f<67.^bd^H
Walsh
Philosophy
Collection
PRESENTED /oM^
LIBRARIES of the
UNIVERSITY 0/ TORONTO
%
Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive
in 2007 witii funding from
IVIicrosoft Corporation
littp://www.arcliive.org/details/cliristianityposiOOmccouoft
Christianity and Positivism
A SERIES OF
LECTURES TO THE TIMES
NATURAL THEOLOGY AND APOLOGETICS.
Delivered in New York, Jan. i6 to March 20, 1871, on the " Ely
Foundation " of the Union Theological Seminary.
JAMES McCOSH, D.D., LL.D.,
PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY, PRINCETON.
NEW YORK:
ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,
530 Broadway.
187I.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by
ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,
In the Office of tlie Librarian of Congress at Washington.
CAMBRIDGE:
PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON.
PREFACE.
This course of Lectures on Christianity and Posi-
tivism was delivered, by appointment, as the second
course on the foundation established in the Union
Theological Seminary by Mr. Zebulon Stiles
Ely, of New York, in the following terms: —
"The undersigned gives the sum of ten thousand
dollars to the Union Theological Seminary of the
city of New York, to found a Lectureship in the
same, the tide of which shall be 'The Elias P. Ely
Lectures on the Evidences of Christianity.'
" The course of Lectures given on this foundation
is to comprise any topics that serve to establish the
proposition that Christianity is a religion from God,
or that it is the perfect and final form of religion for
man.
"Among the subjects discussed may be, —
" The Nature and Need of a Revelation ;
" The Character and Influence of Christ and his
Apostles ;
" The^ Authenticity and Credibility of the Scrip-
tures, Miracles and Prophecy ;
" The Diffusion and Benefits of Christianity ; and
"The Philosophy of Religion in its Reladon to
the Christian System.
IV PREFACE.
" Upon one or more of such subjects a course ot
ten public Lectures shall be given at least once in
two or three years. The appointment of the Lect-
urer is to be by the concurrent action of the
directors and faculty of said Seminary and the un-
dersigned ; and it shall ordinarily be made two
years in advance.
" The interest of the fund is to be devoted to the
payment of the Lecturers, and the publication of
the Lectures within a 3^ear after the delivery of the
same. The copyright of the volumes thus published
is to be vested in the Seminary.
"In case it should seem more advisable, the di-
rectors have it at their discretion at times to use the
proceeds of this fund in providing special courses
of lectures or instruction, in place of the aforesaid
public lectures, for the students of the Seminary on
the above-named subjects.
" Should there at any time be a surplus of the
fund, the directors are authorized to employ it in
the way of prizes for dissertations by students of
the Seminary upon any of the above topics, or of
prizes for essays thereon, open to public com-
petition.
"Zebulon Stiles Ely.
" New York, May 8th, 1S65."
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Preface iii
Jtrst Series.
CHRISTIANITY AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE.
Lecture Page
I. The Argument from Design as affected by
Modern Discoveries in Science. — Conser-
vation of Force. — Star Dust. — Proto-
plasm.— Origin of Life i
II. Natural Selection. — Origin of Man. — His-
torical Development. — Christ and the
Moral Power 35
III. Limits to the Law of Natural Selection. —
This World a Scene of Struggle. — Ap-
pearance OF Spiritual Life. — Final Cause,
— New Life. — Unity and Growth in the
World. — Higher Products coming forth.
— Signs of Progress 6;}
CHRISTIANITY AND MENTAL SCIENCE.
IV. Proof of the Existence of Mind and of its
possessing the capacity of knowledge. —
Doctrines of Nescience and Relativity . 97
VI CONTENTS.
Lecture Page
V. Mental Principles involved in the Theistic
Argument. — Our Ideas lead us to believe
in God, and clothe him with Power, Per-
sonality, Goodness, AND Infinity. — God so
far Known. — Criticism of Mr. Herbert
Spencer. — God so far Unknown .... 124
VI. Progress of Free Thought in America. — ^ Ra-
tionalism. — Boston Theology. — Positivism 151
VII. Materialism. — Circumstances favoring it.
— Parts of the Body most intimately
connected with Mental Action. — Gross-
er and more Refined Forms of Mate-
rialism. — Buchner, Maudesley, Bain,
Huxley, Tyndal, Spencer. — Objections
to Materialism. — Mind not one of the
Correlated Physical Forces 179
JJfjfrlJ Series.
CHRISTIANITY AND HISTORICAL INVESTI-
GATION.
VIII. Our Lord's Life a Reality and not a Ro-
mance. — Criticism of Renan's Life of
Jesus 206
IX. Unity of our Lord's Life, — In the Ac-
counts given of Him, — In His Method of
Teaching, — In His Person, — And in His
Work 255
CONTENTS. vii
Lecture Page
X. The Planting of the Christian Church. —
Legendary and Mythic Theories. — Ac-
cordance OF the Book of Acts with
Geography and History. — Coincidences
BETWEEN Acts and Paul's Epistles. — Pres-
ent Position of Christianity 297
Article
I. Gaps in the Theory of Development . . . 343
II. Darwin's Descent of Man 346
III. Principles of Herbert Spencer's Philosophy 362
LECTURES TO THE TIMES
ON
NATURAL THEOLOGY AND APOLOGETICS.
I.
The Argument from Design as affected by Modern
Discoveries in Science. — Conservation of Force.
— Star Dust. — Protoplasm. — Origin of Life.
~]\ /TR. J. S. MILL recommends those who would
establish the existence of God to stick to the
argument from design. As it is lawful to learn
wisdom from an opponent, I take his counsel ; and
I stand by the evidence furnished by the order and
adaptation in the universe. The a -prioi'i proof, so
proudly advanced by the rationalists of the age now
passing away, is not likely to meet with much ac-
ceptance in the time now present, when rationalism
is being devoured by sensationalism, and the tran-
scendental philosophy, with its much admired crys-
tals, is melting away, — to give us, may I hope,
something better, as much so as the buds and
blossoms of spring are superior to the frost-work
of winter. The argument from design is that there
are evidences everywhere, in heaven and earth, in
plant and animal, of natural agents being so fitted
to each other, and so combining to produce a be-
neficent end, as to show that intelligence must have
been employed in co-ordinating and arranging
2 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
them. When unfolded, it comprises a body of
facts, and it involves a principle. The principle is
that an effect implies a cause. The special con-
sideration and defence of this law may be adjourned
to a future lecture, when it will come up in more
favorable circumstances to admit of a full discus-
sion. In the first series of lectures in this course,
we are invited to contemplate the phenomena and
laws of the physical world, so far as they bear
marks of being- adapted to each other by a design-
ing mind contemplating a good end.
The arg-ument is one which commends itself to
all minds, though it is put into shape onl}^ by the
logician and the expounder of natural theology.
The child finds the impression stealing in upon him,
as he inspects the curious objects around iiim, —
the fir cone, the flower, the berry, the structure of
his favorite animal, or those lights kindled nightly
in the heavens, or as he is taught to connect these
daily gifts with God the giver. The peasant, the
savage, feels it, as he sees the grass and trees
springing and growing and bearing seed, as he is
led to observe the self-preserving instincts of the
brute creatures, as he takes a passing survey of the
wondrous provisions for maintaining life in his own
frame, or finds himself furnished with food and
clothing by very complicated arrangements of Prov-
idence. Flowing spontaneously into the minds
of all, the conviction will force itself into the inner-
most heart of the speculative unbeliever. "No
one," said David Hume, as he walked home one
ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN. 3
beautiful evening with a friend, "can look up to
that sky without feeling that it must have been put
in order by an intelligent being." "But who made
all these things ? " was the curt reply of Napoleon
Bonaparte, who had been obliged to listen to the
wretched sophistries of a set of French atheists,
bred in the bloody revolutionary period, — " but
who made all these things? " pointing to the heavens.
The argument is one and the same in all ages.
" He that formed the eye, shall He not see?" is the
way in which the Psalmist expresses it. Socrates
is represented, in the "Memorabilia" of Xenophon,
as pointing to the traces of purpose in the eye, the
ear, and the teeth, and to the care taken of every
individual man in the Divine providence. Though
the argument is identical, yet it takes different
forms in different ages ; one reason of which is to
be found in the circumstance that the physical facts
require to be differently stated as science opens to
us new views of the nature of the universe. Balbus
the Stoic, the representative of theism in Cicero's
treatise " De Natura Deorum," drew a solid enough
argument from the order of the heavenly bodies,
though he assumed that the sun moved round the
earth. Those living since the acceptance of the
theory of Copernicus expound the facts in a more
scientific manner, but not more conclusively, as
bearing on the relation of God to his works. The
Scriptures tell us that man cannot number the stars,
but it has been found that he can count the stars
seen by the naked eye ; but the science which
4 , NATURAL THEOLOGY.
enables him to do this has disclosed other stars, so
that it is still true that the stars cannot be reckoned
for multitude. It is much the same with the argu-
ment for the Divine existence : modern investigatiorr
modifies old views only to open new and grander
ones. The peasant, who notices a watch going and
pointing to the hour, is as sure that there is design
in it as the mechanic who can trace the relation of
all the parts, — the mainspring, the wheels, and
the hands. And the same peasant is as sure that
there is purpose in the hand as Sir Charles Bell
was, when he pointed out the wonderful adaptations
of the various bones and joints and muscles and
nerves. A theistic writer living in the middle of
the seventeenth centur}^, — say Milton in writing
" Paradise Lost," or Charnock in delivering his
" Discourses on the Attributes," — could not ex-
pound the revolutions of the heavenly bodies in
the same satisfactory manner as one living in the
following century, when Newton had established
the law of universal gravitation ; but the one might
have as reasonable a conviction as the other that
"the heavens declare the glory of God."
It is a humiliating but instructive fact that man\'
new discoveries in physical science have, in the
first instance, been denounced as atheistic, because
they were not conformable to the opinions which
religious men had been led to entertain, not of God,
but of the phenomena of the world. Even the
illustrious Leibnitz charged the system of Newton
with having an irreligious tendency, and (as I once
WHAT SCIENCE HAS TO DO. 5
heard Humboldt denouncing, in an interview which
I had w^th him a few months before his death)
sought to poison the mind of the famous Princess
Sophie of Prussia, against him. It is a curious
circumstance that the law of gravitation had to be
defended on the side of religion, at the beginning
of last century, by Maclaurin, in his " Account of
the Discoveries of Sir Isaac Newton." In the last
age, numbers trained in a narrow theological geol-
ogy (not found in Scripture, but drawn out of it by
wrong inference) opposed the discoveries as to the
successive strata and races of animated beings on
the earth's surface, and could scarcely be reconciled
to them when such men as Buckland and Chalmers,
Hitchcock and Hugh Miller, showed that these facts
widened indefinitely the horizon of our vision, —
added a new province to the universe of God, by
disclosing a past history before unknown, — and
opened new and grander views of the prescience
and preordination of God. And, in our times, there
are persons who cannot take in these new doctrines
of natural history and comparative language, not
because they run counter to any doctrine or precept
of religion, but because they conflict with certain
historical or scientific preconceptions which have
become bound up with their devout beliefs.
All this shows that religious men qua religious
men are not to be allowed to decide for us the truths
of science. Conceive an Ecumenical Council at
Rome, or an Assembly of Divines at Westminster,
or an Episcopal Convocation at Lambeth, or a Con-
6 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
gregational Council at Plymouth, or a Methodist
Conference in Connecticut, taking upon it to decide
for or against the discoveries of Sir Isaac Newton,
or the grand doctrine established in our day of the
Conservation of Force and Correlation of all the
Physical Forces, on the ground of their being favor-
able or unfavorable to religion ! I have heard fer-
vent preachers denouncing the nebular hypothesis of
the heavens and the theories of the origin of organic
species in a manner and spirit which was only fitted
to damage the religion which they meant to recom-
mend, in the view of every man of science who
heard them ; and which drew from others of us the
wish that they had kept by what they were fit for,
proclaiming the gospel to perishing sinners, and illus-
trating t)ie graces of the Christian character, and
left science to men of science. On the other hand,
our scientific men are not, as scientific men, qualified
to find out and to estimate the theological bearings
of the laws which they have discovered. For if
there be a religious, there may also be an irrelig-
ious bias. There may be some as anxious in their
hatred to expel God from his works as there are
others resolute in their love to bring him in at times
or in wa}s in which he does not choose to appear.
The laws of the physical world are to be determined
b}' scientific men, proceeding in the way of a care-
ful induction of facts ; and, so far as they follow their
method, I have the most implicit faith in them, and
I have the most perfect confidence that the truth
which they discover will not run counter to any
PRINCIPLE ASSUMED. *J
Other truth. But when they pass beyond their own
magic circle, they become weak as other men. I
do not commit to them — I reserve to myself — the
right of interpretino- the religious bearings of those
laws which they disclose to our wondering eyes.
We proceed to consider the religious aspect of
some of the recent discoveries, real or supposed,
of physical investigation ; which it is all the more
necessary to do, because there is a certain school
studiously seeking to leave the impression that the
argument from design has been set aside by an
advanced science. We shall show that, while the
proofs drawn by such writers as Paley from the
wondrous leverage and curiously formed joints of
the animal trame are untouched by recent researches
and remain as strong and conclusive as ever, these
new views opened of the history of the w^orld dis-
close evidence which could not have been discov-
ered in earlier a<res.
I assume only the one principle already an-
nounced, that every effect is caused. Not that
every thing has a cause, — for this would make us
look for a cause of the uncaused, which is God, —
but that every thing which begins to be has a cause.
In employing this law, I do not care for the present
whether it be regarded as a -priori or a posteriori,
as discovered by reason or by experience. It is
acknowledged to be presupposed and involved in
all scientitic research, to be the most universal law
of the operations of physical nature, a law with
no known exceptions. In our extensive journey
8 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
through the ages of time we shall discover many
things which begin to appear ; and we feel justified
in arguing that they must have a cause, a cause
adequate to produce them.
In conducting our argument, it may be proper to
premise two points to avert misapprehension. First,
we are not to be precluded from seeking and dis-
covering a final cause, because we have found an
efficient cause. Using, as being as good as any
other, the illustration which has become associated
with the name of Paley, — on seeing a watch, we
argue that it has a final cause, a purpose to serve, a
contemplated end : this we infer from the fitting of
pin, wheel, axle, cylinder, and hands, in order to
intimate the time to us who need "to number our
days." Yet this little machine has been fashioned,
and it continues to go, solely by mechanical power.
It is the same with the traces of design we discover
in nature : they all spring from the powers and
properties of material agencies ; but the proof of
purpose is derived from the collocation of things,
from the disposition of the parts, from the adapta-
tion of property to property, from their being jointed
on one to another, from their being dovetailed into
each other, from their combining and concurring
towards a given end in which order and benev-
olence are manifested. Our inference is, that these
forces, blind and unintelligent in themselves, must
be directed by an intelligence which sees and fore-
sees. The rays of light come from the sun ninety-
rive millions of miles away : they come in vibrations
EFFICIENT AND FINAL CAUSE. 9
according to mechanical laws. The eye is made
up of coats, humors, lenses, nerves, all formed
according- to chemical and p]i3-siological laws. The
rays of light emitted from the sun are reflected from
objects on the earth, and alighting on the eye are
refracted and combined so as to form on the retina
an image of the objects from which they have come,
and which we see in consequence. The adaptations
necessary to accomplish this are manj^ and varied,
and some of them of a very delicate and recondite
character. To mention only two instances. There
is the adjustment of the eyeball to objects at varying
distances so as to allow the rays of light to form the
image on the retina, and thus furnish distinct vision.
Helmholtz has shown that this is done without any
will or effort on our part. It is done by the ciliary
muscle, which contracts for near objects and relaxes
for distant ones. Again, Newton thought that there
could not be a refracting telescope of any great
power, because of the aberration of the rays of
light as they are drawn to a focus. Dollond, in a
later age, ingeniously avoided this difficulty by an
achromatic apparatus in which the object glass was
composed of crown glass and flint glass, and the
dispersive power of the one was counteracted by
that of the other. But there has been all along, if
not an identical, yet an analogous provision in the
e3e, so that in the healthy organism the image is
perfect, having neither penumbra nor prismatic
colors. Now the rays of light coming from the
sun have not formed the eye, nor has the eye formed
lO NATURAL THEOLOGY.
the rays of light. The question arises, Whence the
correspondence between the two? Proceeding on
the principles on which science proceeds, it is as
certain as any truth in science that the conformity
must have risen from a preordained disposition of
the two, brought about by a series of causes evidently
contemplated from the beginning. "And he that
formed the eye, shall he not see? " When Napoleon
asked Laplace why God was not mentioned in his
"Mechanique Celeste," he replied, "I have no need
of this hypothesis." But, following the principles
of reason, there is need of such an hypothesis to
account, if not for the agencies, yet for the harmo-
nious combination of agencies in the fitting of every
one thing to every other, which we see alike in the
stars in their courses, and the structure and move-
ments of the eye, and indeed, if only we carefully
inspect it, in every object in the earth and in the
heavens.
It is necessary to make such simple and obvious
statements as these, because not a few ph3-sicists are
themselves laboring under the impression, and are
conveying it to others, that as soon as we have dis-
covered the physical cause of an occurrence it is
no longer necessary to call in a tinal cause ; and, as
Laplace expressed it, fmal causes in "the eyes of
philosophers are nothing more than the expression
of the ignorance in which we are of the real causes,"
and "are being pushed away to the bounds of knowl-
edge." But the correct account is, that final cause
may best be seen in the concurrence of physical
IGNORANCE OF POWERS OF NATURE. ll
agents to produce a given end ; and the advance of
knowledge, so far from driving back final cause,
only enables us to give a more definite account of
its nature, and to specify the powers which are made
to combine, to effect the obviously contemplated
result. Darwin has shown that certain plants are
fertilized by insects, such as bees carrying the pollen
from the male to the female ; and thus he accounts
for the prevalence of certain forms and colors in
flowers. Be it so, we are only enabled the better
to see in these insects the means of accomplishing
a designed end. There is a like error lurking in a
favorite principle of Hegel : "That which they call
the final cause of a thing is nothing but its inward
nature." Now it is doubtless the inward nature of
a physical cause to produce its effect ; but the pur-
pose or design expressed by the phrase "final cause "
is seen in the coincidence and co-operation of inde-
pendent physical causes, so as to secure an end which
no one of them could accomplish by its own inward
nature. It is from the collocation of canine teeth,
strung claws and muscles, and a flesh-digesting
stomach, in carnivorous animals, that we see there
has been an end contemplated by the harmony,
which could not have been effected by the inward
nature of any of the parts.
To correct prevailing misapprehension, it is nec-
essar}^ to announce a second preliminary point : that
our argument does not require us to know what are
the ultimate powers of nature. These are certainly
not known at present, and they may never be
12 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
known by the science of man. If they be many,
there is need of mutual accommodation and recip-
rocal action, to suit tliem one to the other, and make
them accomplish a good end. If they be few, there
is equal need of a nice adjustment, to make them
fulfil the infinitely varied purposes which they serve.
If the number of elementary bodies in nature be
sixty, as chemical science says, provisionally, that
they are; and if the number of properties possessed
by them — mechanical, chemical, electric, magnetic,
vital — be also numerous, there is surely need of a
marshalling of these hosts, to keep them from clash-
ing, and working confusion and destruction. Or,
if scientific research can succeed in showing that
all these may be reduced to a dozen, or half a
dozen, an amazing skill must be required to make
them produce those infinitely diversified bodies and
those wonderfully constructed frames which we see
in nature. I have heard Paganini draw exquisite
music from one string, wrought upon in all sorts
of directions and with all kinds of flexures ; and I
have listened to strains produced by hundreds of
instruments, each with a complexity of strings : but
in the one case, as in the other, combination and
skill of the highest order were required to create
and sustain the melody and the harmony.
Carrying with us these two principles, so obvious,
and yet so frequently overlooked, let us now take a
glance at some of the recent speculations as to the
construction of the universe. We find in the physi-
cal world at least two ultimate existences, — Matter
CONSERVATION OF FORCE. 13
and Force. I believe that we know both of these
l)y intuition, and by no process can we get rid of
the one or the other. As to Force, it will be
expedient to look for a moment at the grandest sci-
entific truth established in our da}', — a doctrine
worthy of being placed alongside that of universal
gravitation, — I mean that of the Conservation of
Physical Force ; according to which, the sum of
Force, actual and potential, in the knowable uni-
verse is always one and the same : it cannot be
increased, and it cannot be diminished. It has
long been known that no human, no terrestrial
power can add to or destroy the sum of Matter in
the cosmos. You commit a piece of paper to the
flames, and it disappears ; but it is not lost : one
part goes up in smoke, and another goes down in
ashes ; and it is conceivable that at some future
time the two may unite, and once more form paper.
" Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of
Alexander, till we lind it stopping a bung-holer"
"As thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,
Alexander returneth to dust ; the dust is earth ;
of earth we make loam : and why of that loam,
whereto he was converted, might they not stop a
beer-barrel?
" Imperial Caesar, dead, and turned to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away :
O, that the earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw! "
As man cannot create or annihilate matter, so he
cannot create or annihilate force. This doctrine
H
NATURAL THEOLOGY.
has been scientilically established in our day by
men like Mayer, Joule, Henry, and others. We
now regard it as one and the same force, but under
a vast variet}' of modifications, which warms our
houses and our bodily frames, which raises the
steam and impels the engine, which effects the dif-
ferent chemical combinations, which flashes in the
lightning and lives in the plant.* Man may direct
the force, and make it go tliis way or that way ; but
he can do so only by means of force under a differ-
ent form, — by force brought into his frame by his
food, obtained directly, or indirectly through the
animal, from the plant, which has drawn it from
the sun ; and as he uses or abuses it, he cannot
lessen or augment it. I move my hand ; and, in
doing so, I move the air, which raises insensibly
the temperature of the room, and may lead to
chemical changes, and excite electric and magnetic
currents, and take the circuit of the universe with-
out being lost or lessened. Now the bearing of this
doctrine on religion seems to be twofold. First, it
furnishes a more striking manifestation than anything
known before of the One God, with his infinitely
varied perfections, — of his power, his knowledge,
his wasdom, his love, his mercy; and we should see
that one Power blowing in the breeze, smiling in
the sunshine, sparkling in the stars, quickening us
* I was prepared, from its first announcement, to receive this
truth; for it follows directly from a doctrine laid down by me
twenty-cne years ago, in my work on "The Method of the Divine
Government" (Book ii.), that all bodies possess fixed properties,
which cannot be increased nor lessened.
CORRELATION OF THE FORCES. 1 5
as we bound along in the felt enjoyment of health,
efflorescing in every form and hue of beauty, and
showering down daily gifts upon us. The pro-
foundest minds in our day, and in every day, have
been fond of regarding this force, not as something
independent of God, but as the very power of God
acting in all action; so that "in him we live, and
move, and have our being." But, secondly, it
shows us that in God's works, as in God himselt,
there is a diversity with the unity ; so that force
manifests itself now in gravity, now in molecular
attraction and motion, now in chemical affinities
among bodies, now in magnetic and diamagnedc
properties, now in vital assimilation. And we see
that all these forces are correlated : so that the doc-
trine of the Correlation of all the varied Physical
Forces stands alongside of the Conservation of the
one Physical Force; and by the action of the whole,
and of every part made to combine and harmonize,
there arise beauteous forms and harmonious colors ;
the geometry of crystals ; the types of the plant and
of every organ of the plant, the branches, the roots,
the leaves, the petals, the pisdls, the stamens ; and
the types of the animal, so that every creature is
fashioned after its kind, and every limb takes its
predetermined form, while there is an adaptation
of every one part to every other, of joint to column,
and joint to joint, of limb to limb, and of limb to
body, of the ear to the vibrating medium, and the
nostrils to odors, and the eye to the varied undula-
tions of licjht.
1 6 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
So much for Force, with its Correhitions. But
with the Forces we have the Matter of the universe,
in which, I beheve, the Forces reside. It is main-
tained that the worlds have been formed out of Star
Dust. Now, I have to remark as to this star dust,
first of all, that it is at best an hypothesis. No
human eye, unassisted, has ever seen it, as it gazed,
on the clearest night, into the depths of space. It
is doubtful whether the telescope has ever alighted
upon it, in its widest sweeps. Lord Rosse's tele-
scope, in its first look into the heavens, resolved
what had before been reckoned as star dust into
distinctly formed stars. But I am inclined to admit
the existence of star dust as an hypothesis. I
believe it explains phenomena which require to be
explained, and which cannot otherwise be accounted
for. I allow it freely, that there is evidence that
the planets and moons and sun must have been
fashioned out of some such substance, at first incan-
descent, and then gradually cooling. But, then,
it behoves us to look a little more narrowly into
the nature of this star dust. Was it ever a mass
of unformed matter, without individuality, without
properties? Did it contain within itself these sixty
elementary substances, with their capacities, their
affinities, their attractions, their repulsions? When
a meteor comes, as a stranger, within our terrestrial
sphere, either out of this original star dust or out
of planets which have been reduced to the state
of original star dust, it is found to have the same
components as bodies on our earth, and these with
STAR DUST. 17
the same properties and affinities. The spectro-
scope, which promises to reveal more wonders than
the telescope or microscope, shows the same ele-
ments — such as hydrogen and sodium — in the
sun and stars as in the bodies on the earth's surface.
The star dust, then, has already in it these sixty
elementary bodies, with all their endowments,
— gravitating, mechanical, chemical, magnetic.
Whence these elements? Whence their correla-
tions, their attractions, their affinities, their fittings
into each other, their joint action? It is by no
means the strongest point in my cumulative argu-
ment; but it does look as if, even at this stage,
there had been a harmonizing power at work, and
displaying foresight and intelligence.
As to this material, we must hold one or other of
two opinions. One is, that it had from the begin-
ning all the capacities which afterwards appear in
the worlds formed out of it. It has not only the
mechanical, but the chemical, the electric powers
of dead matter ; the vital properties of plants and
animals, such as assimilation, absorption, contrac-
tility ; and the attributes of the conscious mind, as
of perception b}^ the senses, of memory, imagina-
tion, comparison, of the appreciation of beauty, of
sorrow, of joy, of hope, of fear, of reason, of con-
science, of will. These capabilities may not yet be
developed : but they are there in a latent, a dormant
state in the incandescent matter; and are ready, on
the necessary conditions being supplied, to rise to
the instincts of animals, — to the love of a mother
l8 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
for her otTspring, — to the sagacity of the dog, the
horse, or the elephant, — to the genius of a Moses,
a Homer, a Socrates, a Plato, an Aristotle, a Paul,
a John, a Shakespeare, a Milton, a Newton, a
Leibnitz, or an Edwards. Were all this capacity
in the star dust, I would be constrained to seek for
a cause of it in a Power possessed of knowledge,
wisdom, and beneficence, planting seeds in that
soil to come forth in due season. But there is
another supposition : that these qualities w^ere not in
the original matter, but w^ere added from age to
age, — it ma}^ be, according to law; and if so, they
must have come from a Power out of and beyond
the star dust, from a Power possessed of reason and
affection. I know not that science can determine
absolutely which of these alternatives it should take.
But take either; and, on the principle of effect
impl3ang cause, the mind must rise to the contem-
plation of a Being who must himself be possessed
of intelligence, in order to impart intelligence.
This star dust has a greater heaviness or thick-
ness of parts in certain places than at others : and,
by the attraction of its particles, masses of it begin
to rotate, and one planet is set off after another;
and the planets cast off satellites, or rings; and the
sun settles in the centre, with bodies circulatinjj
round him. All this has taken place according to
natural law^ : but we infer that there has been a
guardian Intelligence guiding and w^atching the
process; otherwise, the heavy parts causing the
rotation might have been in the wrong places in
PR O TO PL A SM. 1 9
reference to each other, and the circHng bodies at
the wrong distances ; and, as the result, a scene of
never-ceasing confusion, in which the elements and
powers would have been warring with each other,
and rendering it impossible that there should ap-
pear any of the higher products of life, intelligence,
and love.
The earth is now formed, an oblate spheroid,
spinning round its own axis, and round the sun.
By the action and counteraction of the inner heat
and outer cold, there comes to be a solid land, with
a corrucrated surface of hill and dale, ocean and
atmosphere. There follow rocks, deposited by
water or thrown out by fire ; and, as these are
found to come forth, by aqueous or igneous process,
in a state of order and adaptation, and are made to
serve a beneficent end towards the living creatures,
we argue that they are constructed on a plan.
But as yet there has been no life, vegetable or
animal. But the protoplasm now appears. We
shall let Professor Huxley describe that now famous
substance, which he has taken under his special
protection, and by which he works such wonders.
It is the material out of which all living forms are
made, as potter}' is from the clay ; it is the elemen-
tar}^ life-stuff of all plants and all animals. You
may see it as well as anywhere else in the hairs to
which the nettle owes its stinging power. ''The
whole hair consists of a very delicate outer case of
w^ood, closely applied to the inner surface of which is
a layer of semi-fluid matter full of innumerable gran-
20 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
ules of extreme minuteness. This semi-fluid lining
is protoplasm, which thus constitutes a kind of bag
full of limpid liquid." The protoplasmic layer of
the nettle hair is seen to be in a condition of unceas-
ing activity. Local contractions of the whole thick-
ness of its substance pass slowly and gradually from
point to point, and give rise to the appearance of
progressive waves, just as the bending of the suc-
cessive stalks of corn by a breeze produces the
apparent billows of a cornfield. In addition to these
movements, and independent!}' of them, the gran-
ules are driven in relatively rapid streams, and there
is a general stream up one side and down another.
This protoplasm, according to Professor Huxley,* is
"the formal basis of all life. It is the clay of the
potter ; which, bake and paint it as he will, remains
clay, separated by artifice, and not by nature, from
the commonest brick or sun-dried clod. Thus it
becomes clear that living powers are cognate, and
that all living forms are fundamentally of one char-
acter." He says that " all vital action is the result
of the molecular forces of the protoplasm which
displays it. And if so, it must be true, in the same
sense and to the same extent, that the thoughts to
which I am now giving utterance, and your thoughts
regarding them, are the expression of molecular
chancres in that matter of life which is the source
of our other vital phenomena,"
Now, upon this account of protoplasm I have to
remark that the great body of naturalists do not
* Physical Basis of Life.
PR O TO PL A SM. 2 1
allow that it is correct. One of the most erudite
men of our day, Dr. Stirling,* in a paper read be-
fore the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh,
has shown that the researches of the eminent Ger-
man physiologists are against him. They do not
admit that one and the same protoplasm is the mat-
ter of all organisms. It is certain that all proto-
plasm is not chemically identical. The protoplasm
differs in different tissues, is different in the bone
from what it is in the muscle, and different in the
nerves and brain from what it is in any other part
of the frame. Again, it is affirmed that the proto-
plasm differs in different plants and animals, each
of which has its own kind, which is not interchange-
able with that of the rest.
But we may let Mr. Huxley's account of it pass.
From his description of it, it is evident that this
elementary life-stuff" is a very complex body, with
very peculiar endowments, — quite as likely to work
evil as to work good, and requiring to be directed
in order to operate beneficently. It is composed
chemically of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitro-
gen; in one word, of protein. But then protein is
not protoplasm : no power known to us can turn
protein into protoplasm. Science, at its present ad-
vanced stage, cannot change dead matter into living
matter. No chemist can do it in his laborator}-.
The most prying inquiry, by microscope or other-
wise, into the laboratory of nature, has not detected
her producing living matter in the form of proto-
* As Regards Protoplasm.
22 NATURAL TIIEOLOGT.
plasm, or any other, except by matter already living.
No known plant can live upon the uncompounded
elements of protoplasm. "A plant," says Mr. Hux-
ley himself, "supplied with pure carbon, hydrogen,
oxygen, and nitrogen, phosphorus, sulphur, and
the like, would as infallibly die as the animal in
his bath of smelling salts, though it would be sur-
rounded by all the constituents of protoplasm."
Professor Huxley, indeed, tells us that ''when
carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen are brought
together under certain conditions, they give rise to
the still more complex body, protoplasm ; and this
protoplasm exhibits the phenomena of life." Under
co'tain conditions : we must not let these words slip
in so quietly, as Mr. Huxley would have it. These
conditions, be they what they may, constitute the
difference between dead protein and living proto-
plasm. And here I may remark that Mr. Mill has
been showing (I think successfully, and I have
been aiding him in my own way) that what are
usually called conditions are truly parts of the cause,
which is the sum of the conditions, — the cause, as
I have labored to prove, being dual, plural, com-
plex, always implying more than one agent; and
it is only when all are present that the effect is
produced. We say the organ produces music on
the condition of one playing on it ; but surely the
man playing is as essential a part of the cause as
the organ itself.* By no skill can the chemist turn
* " It is v'erj common to single out one only of tlic antece-
dents under the denomination of Cause, calling the others
coynirioNS parts of causes. 23
protein into protoplasm. Professor Huxley thinks
it can be done on conditions to him unknown. When
he knows what the conditions are, and makes them
known to me, I am sure I will be able to discover
adaptation and design in them. Herbert Spencer
tells us that chemists have shown that many sup-
merelj Conditions." " The real cause is tlie whole of these ante-
cedents ; and we have, philosophically speaking, no right to give
the name of cause to one of them, exclusive of the others." —
MilVs Logic, B. iii. c v. § 3. I have shown that in material nature
there is always need of the action of two or more agents, in
order to an effect. — Method of Di-oine Gov^irnment, B. 11. c. i. § i.
Ati Examination of Mr. J. S. Mill's Philosophy, c. xiii. : ''If a
ball moves in consequence of another striking it, there is need of
the one ball as well as the other; and the cause, properly speak-
ing, consists of the two in a relation to each other. But not only
is there a duality or plurality in the cause : there is the same
(Mr. Mill has not noticed it) in the effect. The effect consists not
merely of the one ball, the ball struck and set in motion, but
also of the other ball which struck it, and which has now lost
part of its momentum. By carrying out this doctrine, we can
determine what is meant by '^condition' and ' occasion,' when the
phrases are applied to the operation of causation. When we
speak of an agent requiring a ' condition,' an ' occasion,' or 'cir-
cumstances,' in order to its action, we refer to the other agent
or agents required, that it may produce a particular effect. Thus,
that fire may burn, it is necessary to have fuel or a combustible
material. In order that my will may move my arm, it is needful
to have the concurrence of a healthy motor nerve. So much
for the dual or plural agency in the cause. But there is a similar
complexity in the effect," &c. To apply this general principle to
the case before us : protein, it is said, may become protoplasm
under certain conditions. These conditions, whatever they be.
constitute the difference between the two; and Mr. H. has thrown
no light on the production of protoplasm, till he has shown us
what are these conditions, which ought to be represented as
forming an essential part of the cause.
24 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
posed organic substances are inorganic. Be it so,
that men may have made a mistake in the past
which they are seeking to rectify in the present.
And then, in the usual dogmatic way of a man who
may see clearly much truth, but does not see other
truths by which it is modified, he assures us that no
chemist doubts but he will be able to turn inor-
ganic into organic matter. All I have to say on
this is, that when the chemist has done it, and
shown the way by which he has done it, I am con-
fident I will be able to point out a curious adaptation
in these conditions previously unknown, but now
known, by which he has accomplished the feat. If
the things composing the conditions were in the star
dust, they were there as seeds ready to burst forth
in due time. If they have come from without, they
have come in so appropriately as to show that they
have come of purpose, — whether by natural law or
not, we may not be able to tell till the man of
science has made them known to us.
■ And then "protoplasm," says Stirling, "can only
be produced by protoplasm, and each of all the
innumerable varieties of protoplasm only by its own
kind. For the protoplasm of the worm we must go
to the worm, and for that of the toadstool to the
toadstool. In fact, if all living beings came from
protoplasm, it is quite as certain that but for living
beings protoplasm would disappear." Where then
did we get the first protoplasm and the various kinds
of protoplasm, is still the question.
And then it is to be remembered that naturalists
NEED OF SEED OR EGG. 25
do not admit that protoplasm is all that is necessary
to produce the living organism. It has long been
known that organized matter, vegetable and animal,
is made up of cells. "All the great German his-
tologists still hold by the cell, and can hardly open
their mouths without mention of it." "They speak
still of cells as self-complete organisms that move
and grow, that nourish and reproduce themselves,
and that perform specific functions. Omnis celhila
e celliila is the rubric they w^ork under as much now
as ever." Not only so, but it seems that "brain
cells only generate brain cells, and bone cells bone
cells." If a cell can only be produced from a cell,
the question when and whence and how do we get
the first cell is still pressed upon us, and requires us
to call in a new set of conditions, which I hold must
imply a fitting and a purpose.
Nor is this all. Not only do all cells proceed from
cells ; but all organisms, all plants and animals,
proceed from a seed or ^gg- It is still true as ever,
omne vivuni ab ovo. Not even protoplasm can give
us an organized being, even the lowest, wdthout a
germ. An attempt w^as made a few years ago by
M. Pouchet to get organized beings, not from unor-
ganized, which he did not try, but from stagnant
water containing organized matter without germs.
But M. Pasteur, the distinguished naturaHst of
Paris, came after him and showed that there must
have been germs in the water which was employed.
He showed first that, if you allowed him to destroy
all germs in the matter experimented on by expos-
2
26 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
ing it to a sufficiently high temperature, no living
creatures would appear. He showed farther — by
experiments conducted in low, marshy places, then
on the Jura range, and finally on the high Alps —
that living beings did or did not appear just accord-
ing as there were seeds in the organized matter ;
that is, that they came forth in greatest numbers in
the low, marshy places, in smaller numbers in the
higher region of Jura, and that very few appeared
in the cold region of the Upper Alps. And in re-
gard to the general question, he has demonstrated
that when air is passed through cotton wool, which,
acting as a strainer, arrests the germs, no life can
be made to appear. And to prove that this was not
effected by any occult change produced in the air
by cotton wool, he did the same by a bent tube,
which allows free passage to the air, but does not
allow the germs to pass, as in doing so they would
have to mount upward. These experiments were
reckoned as decisive at the time, and are referred
to by the great body of naturalists in Great Britain
and on the Continent as decisive still. Mr. Huxley
refers to them in his recent address to the British
Association for the Advancement of Science, and
says: "They appear to me now, as they did seven
years ago, to be models of accurate experimentation
and logical reasoning." It is thus shown that not
only is there no proof of such a thing as spontaneous
generation, — that is, the production of organized
out of unorganized matter, — but that there cannot
be organisms formed out of organic matter till a seed
SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 2*J
has been deposited. The question again comes up,
Where, when, and whence did we get the first seed
or hving creature producing seed after its kind?
When they show us this, I engage, if they do it
while I am alive, to point out some nice adapta-
tions in the production of this before unknow'n
phenomenon.
I am aware that Dr. Bastian has, within the last
year, laid before the Royal Society of London a
set of experiments, which seem to yield a different
result, and to prove that living beings may and do
arise, as he expresses it, dc novo* Hitherto it has
been believed that ioo° Centigrade would destroy all
organic germs. But he says he " has found organ-
isms in organic fluids, either acid or alkaline, which,
whilst enclosed within hermetically sealed and air-
less flasks, had been submitted not only to such a
temperature, but even to one varying 146° C. and
153° C. for four hours." I find that Professor Huxley
has no faith in the accuracy of these experiments.
" I believe that the organisms which he has got out
of his tubes are exactly those which he has put into
them. I believe that he has used impure materials,
and that what he imagines to have been the gradual
development of life and organization in his solutions
is the very simple result of the settling together of
the solid impurities, which he was not sufficiently
careful to see, in their scattered condition, when the
solutions were made." But supposing these experi-
ments to have been performed with unimpeachable
* See Nature, July, 1S70.
28 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
accuracy, what has he established by them? Not
that animated beings can be produced without seeds,
but merely that certain seeds can bear exposure to a
higher temperature than they have hitherto been sup-
posed to be capable of standing. Professor Huxley
says that "even if the results of the experiments are
trustworthy, it by no means follows that there has
been life without a germ. The resistance of living
matter to heat is known to vary within considerable
limits, and to depend to some extent upon the chem-
ical and physical qualities of the surrounding me-
dium. But if, in the present state of science, the
alternative is offered us, either germs can stand a
greater heat than has been supposed, or the mole-
cules of dead matter, for no valid or intelligible
reason that is assigned, are liable to rearrange them-
selves into living bodies, exactly such as can be
demonstrated to be frequently produced in another
way, I cannot understand how choice can be, even
for a moment, doubtful." He sums up : "The evi-
dence direct and indirect in favor of Biogenesis
[that all life comes from life] must, I think, be
admitted to be of great weight." After making this
statement so frankly, he thinks he may indulge in a
speculation for which he admits he has no proof,
and the reasoning involved in which is as illogical
as Dr. Bastian's experiments are unscientific : " I
tliink it would be the height of presumption for any
man to say that the conditions, under which matter
assumes the properties we call Wital,' may not some
day be artificially brought together. All that I feel
PLANTS. 29
justified in affirming is, that I see no reason for
believing that the feat has been performed yet."
But then, "If it were jjiven me to look bevond the
abyss of geologically recorded time to the still more
remote period when the earth W'as passing through
physical and chemical conditions, which it can no
more see again than a man may recall his infancy,
I should expect to be a witness of the evolution
of living protoplasm from not living matter," he
adds, "under forms of great simplicity." I suspect
that he has an idea that his favorite protoplasm may
be there, and gendering life there. "But I beg you
to recollect that I have no right to call my opinion
any thing but an act of philosophic faith." May it
not be true of this faith, what Mr. Huxley would
allow to be true of some religious faiths, that the
wish is father to the thought, and that we are in-
clined to believe what we wish to be true? It may
be that in some way, at present inexplicable, lower
life did then appear ; but over against this faith I
set the one which I cherish, on the ground of the
whole analogy of nature, that if that way could be
explicated we should certainly find there, as we find
everywhere, traces of a purpose. But I stand on
firmer ground when I maintain that, when known
facts are against us, it is utterly unscientific to appeal
to what is and must ever be unknown.
We have now protoplasm as the food, and cells to
feed upon them, and a germ cell : but we have not,
after all, the organized plant or animal ; we have not
the rose, or the lily, or the oak; we have not even
30 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
the lichen or the zoophyte. We have merely the
stone and mortar necessary to the erection of the
structure. In addition, there must needs be some
music, like that which brought together the stones
of ancient Thebes, to co-ordinate the materials of
which the universe is composed ; or, as more reason-
able, there must be a builder, who is also an archi-
tect, so to arrange them that they may be turned
into the form of the pine, the oak, the eagle, or the
lion, or that goodly house in which we dwell, and
which is "so fearfully and wonderfully made."
Let us suppose that, by constant accretion of
powers, we have now the plant : the question is
started. How has this risen to the animal? "Not-
withstanding," says Professor Huxley, " all the
fundamental resemblances which exist between the
powers of the protoplasm in plants and animals,
they present a striking difference in the fact that
plants can manufacture fresh protoplasm out of
mineral compounds, whereas animals are obliged
to procure it ready made, and hence in the long
run depend on plants. Upon what conditions [that
convenient word conies in once more] this difference
in the powers of the two great divisions of the world
of lite depends, nothing is at present known."
Whether he knows it or not, there must be some
cause, or, if he prefers, "condition," of the plant
being turned into the animal.
And animals — except, it ma}^ be, a few transi-
tional forms at the base of the scale — have Sensa-
tion. Whence this sensation, so different from the
SENSATION. 31
properties of matter, — this sensation not found in
unorganized matter, not even in the plant, and not
manifested till the animal appears? Was it in the
original matter, — in the incandescent matter out
of which our earth was formed? One trembles at
the very thought ; as, in such scorching heat, the
animal must have been in a state of excruciating
and intolerable anguish, — we can conceive, seek-
ing extinction, and incapable of finding it. And if
the sensation came in at a later date, I ask. Whence?
There is surely no power in nature capable of gen-
erating sensation out of particles of matter not them-
selves capable of sensation?
Since the immediately preceding thoughts were
written, I find Professor Tyndall following some-
what the same train, in a paper read at the late
meeting of the British Association, but avoiding the
legitimate conclusion in a very illegitimate way.
" The gist of our present inquiry regarding the
introduction of life is this : Does it belong to what
we call matter? or is it an independent principle
inserted into matter at some suitable epoch, — say,
when the physical conditions became such as to
permit of the development of life?" "There are
the strongest grounds for believing that, during a
certain period of its history, the earth was not, nor
was it fit to be, the theatre of life. Whether this
was ever a nebulous period, or merely a molten
period, does not much matter ; and if we resort to
the nebulous condition, it is because the probabilities
are really on its side. Our question is this : Did
32 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
creative energy pause until the nebulous matter had
condensed? until the earth had been detached?
until the solar fire had so far withdrawn from the
earth's vicinity as to permit a crust to gather round
the planet? Did it wait until the air was isolated?
until the seas were formed? until evaporation, con-
densation, and the descent of rain had begun? until
the sun's rays had become so tempered by distance
and by waste as to be chemically fit for the decom-
positions necessary to vegetable life? Having
w^aited through those aeons until the proper condi-
tions had set in, did it send the fiat forth, ' Let life
be'? These questions define a hypothesis, not
without its difficulties, but the dignity of which was
demonstrated by the nobleness of the men whom it
sustained. However the convictions of individuals
here and there may be influenced, the process must
be slow which commends the hypothesis of natural
evolution to the public mind. For what are the
core and essence of this hypothesis? Strip it naked,
and you stand face to face with the notion that not
alone the more ignoble forms of animalcular or
animal life, not alone the nobler forms of the
horse and lion, not alone the exquisite and wonder-
ful mechanism of the human body, but that the
human mind itself — emotion, intellect, will, and all
these phenomena — were once latent in a fiery cloud.
Surely the mere statement of such a notion is more
than a refutation." "I do not think that any holder
of the evolution hypothesis would say that I over-
state or overstrain it in any way. I merely strip it
WAS LIFE IN THE STAR DUST. 33
of all vagueness, and bring it before you, unclothed
and unvarnished, the notions by which it must
stand or fall. Surely these notions represent an
absurdity too monstrous to be entertained by any
sane mind." The difficulty in the way of carrying
out the hypothesis, that all things — mind and body
and all their properties — are derived by develop-
ment from star dust is powerfully put, and should
lay an arrest on those who speak so dogmatically
of the possibility of accounting for all things by
na^ral law. After having made this strong and
apparently satisfactory statement, he tries to lessen
the effect of it, by hinting that the difficulties may
be lessened, if not removed, by falling back upon a
philosophic law, — that of Relativity, which has
been adopted by the school to which he belongs ;
and by hinting that the perplexities may arise from
erroneous traditional views about mind and matter.*
It will be necessary thoroughly to examine that
* " Why are these notions absurd? and why should sanity
reject them? The law of relativity, which plays so important a
part in modern philosophy, may find its application here. These
evolution notions are absurd, monstrous, and fit only for the
intellectual gibbet, in relation to the ideas concerning matter
which were drilled into us when young. Spirit and matter have
ever been presented to us in the rudest contrast; the one as all
noble, the other as all vile. But is this correct?" Speaking of
certain supposed enlightened minds, with which he evidently
concurs : " They have as little fellowship with the atheist who
savs there is no God, as with the theist who professes to know
the mind of God." This language points to some seemingly
very profound truth, which it will be necessary to examine,
when it will be found to look so large because of the mist in
which we see it.
2*
34
NATURAL THEOLOGY.
general doctrine, and the application of it to mind
and body, which are alleged to be one and the
same; so that, in certain conditions, mind might
come out of matter. This will be undertaken in
the second series of these Lectures. But, before
doing this, we must take up this whole subject of
Development, and the Origin of Species, and the
Law of Natural Selection, in their relation to the
lower animals, to man, and to human history. I
am satisfied if in this Lecture I have succeeded in
showing that the argument from design is not
undermined by modern discoveries ; and that,
through the process by which the universe has
reached its present condition, there runs an evi-
dence of pre-arrangement, skill, and purpose, —
quite as much so as in the formation of threads into
a web in the loom ; as in the types taking their
proper places so as to print a volume ; as in the
dispositions of the soldiers in the campaigns of Han-
nibal, of Washington, or of Moltke.
II.
Natural Selection. — Origin of Man. — Historical
Development. — Christ and the Moral Power.
TN these Lectures, I am considering the argument
-■- from design in its application to the subjects dis-
cussed in modern science. In the last lecture, I have
shown that we have numerous examples of adapta-
tion and purpose in the production of plants and
animals. We have seen that no known natural
power can produce organized out of unorganized
matter, can produce protoplasm out of protein, can
generate a cell without a parent cell, or a plant or
an animal without a seed or germ, or a sentient
animal from insentient matter. But the question
has often occurred to me. Is religion essentially-
bound up with the settlement, one way or other, of
these scientific questions?
Suppose it proven that there is such a thing as
spontaneous generation : would religion thereby be
overthrown, either in its evidences, its doctrines,
or its precepts? I have doubts if it would. The
great body of thinkers in ancient times — even those
most inclined to theism — seem to have believed
that lower creatures sprang out of the dust of the
36 NATURAL T1IEOLOG2'.
earth, without the need of a previous germ. Some
of the profoundest theologians and ablest defend-
ers of religion in the earl}^ church were believers
in the doctrine of spontaneous generation, — which
may be consistently held in modern times by believers
in natural and revealed religion. The establishment
of the need of a germ, in order to the production of
life, does not carry us back three centuries. There
is really no ground for the fears of the timid, on the
one hand, nor, on the other hand, for the arrogant
expectation of the atheist, that he will thereby be
able to drive God from his works. Spontaneous
generation is not to be understood as a generation
out of nothing, an event without a cause, an affair
of caprice or chance. It is a production out of pre-
existing materials by means of powers in the mate-
rials,— powers very much unknown, working only
in certain circumstances, and requiring, in order to
their operation, favorable conditions, assorted (so all
religious people think) by Divine wisdom. Spon-
taneous generation, supposing it to exist, cannot be
a simple, it must be a very complex process ; in-
volving properties possessed by matter, and a con-
course of circumstances working to the production
of an intended end.
Plants and animals (let me suppose) are now
formed out of germs, or, if you can show it to be
so, out of wisely endowed and carefully prepared
matter. But, How are they propagated? is the next
question. B}' special acts of creation? or by devel-
opment? I do not know that religion, natural or
DE VEL OPMEN T. 3 7
revealed, has any interest in holding by any partic-
ular view on this subject, any more than it has in
maintaining any special theory as to the formation
of strata of stone on the earth's surface. It is now
admitted that Christians may hold, in perfect con-
sistency with religion and Genesis, that certain
layers of rock were formed, not at once by a fiat
of God, but mediately by water and fire as the
agents of God. And are they not at liberty to hold,
always if evidence be produced, that higher plants
have been developed from lower, and higher brutes
from lower, according to certain laws of descent,
known or unknown, working in favorable circum-
stances? There is nothing irreligious in the idea
of development, properly understood. We have
constant experience of development, — of the de-
velopment of individual plants and animals from
parent plants and animals. And why, if proof be
produced, should we not be allowed to believe in
the development of a new species from the crossing
of two species in favorable circumstances?
Development, if we only carefully inquire into its
nature, wdll not be seen to be so simple an opera-
tion as some imagine. The development of an in-
dividual plant or animal from its parentage is a very
complex process, implying an immense body of
agencies, mechanical, chemical, probably electric
and magnetic: some would say that it requires, in
addition, an independent vital power. But, put the
supposition that no distinct vital power is required,
— that a certain coincidence of chemical and me-
38 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
chanical and electric agencies will accomplish the
whole, — the question would only be started, Whence
this combination and co-agency of these diverse
forces to accomplish a specific end? What is true
of the development of individuals would also hold
good of the development of species, if there be such
a thing in nature. If man could constriict, out of
simple mechanical powers, not only a watch telling
the hour, but a watch which should produce other
watches telling the hour through all time, our ad-
miration of the skill of the artist would not be
diminished. In such an instrument, were it possible
or conceivable, the maker would require to secure
a double end, — not only that the watch would an-
nounce the time, but that there should be a second
watch and a third watch, on indefinitely, all accom-
plishing the same purpose. Our wonder would be
increased, if the watches thus produced not only
produced other watches, but, as they consorted
in favorable circumstances, better and yet better
watches. So, in vegetable and animal develop-
ment, there must be adaptation upon adaptation :
adaptation of the individual to its mate ; adaptation
in the growth of the young when yet connected
with the parent ; adaptation of the birth to external
circumstances in the air, food, and clothing supplied
for it; adaptation in the instincts of animals, — for
example, in the love of offspring, and in the capacity
of the creature to grow and strengthen, and, it may
be, to produce a progeny better than itself.
The question as to whether there is or is not a
VITAL PRINCIPLE. 39
separate vital principle, and whether there may not
be a new species developed out of the old, is a
question for science to settle. And, whichever way
it is settled, there is room for irreligion — I am sorry
to say ; but there is room also for religion. The
assertion that there is a vital principle, capable of
originating, unfolding, and perfecting all that is in
the organism, may be quite as irreligious as the
denial of a separate vital potency. Proceeding on
the existence of a vital force, which they suppose,
pantheistically or atheistically, to inhere in nature,
there are some who imagine that they have thereby
explained every thing connected with the develop-
ment and growth of vegetable and animal organ-
isms. Mr. Huxley can work such wonders by
protoplasm, only by imparting to it a life-power
such as is ascribed to nature generally by pan-
theists. I am inclined, on the evidence of science,
to believe in a vital power, as different from the
chemical as the chemical is from the mechanical ;
but I do not believe in an independent power called
the vegetable or animal life, capable of producing
all the beautiful forms and adaptations which we
admire in the living creatures. It can be shown,
whether we do or do not call in a vital principle,
that there is need of a whole series of nice arrange-
ments of part and power before the organism can
fulfil its functions, and yield seed after its kind or
better than its kind. It is a question to be decided
by naturalists, and not by theologians ; who, so
far as I see, have no authority from the Word of
40 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
God to say that every species of tiny moths has
been created independent of all species of moths
which have gone before. The natural tendency of
tlieologians will be conservative. I go a step farther,
and say that it ought to be conservative. It is not for
them to run eagerly after every new theory which
may be propounded, and live its ephemeral day ;
and to make religion to lean upon it, only to suffer
a fall and a humiliation when it breaks down.
" He that believeth will not make haste.*' Religion
can afford to wait till the point is established or dis-
established. When a law has been established so
as to stand the tests of scientific induction, then
theologians may reverently use it, in expounding
the traces of design discoverable in the universe.
It is for naturalists to determine the points which
have been started by Mr. Darwin. The law with
which his name is identified is that of Natural
Selection. He has copiously illustrated that law,
but has not defined it very clearly. The name.
Natural Selection, might lead us to imagine that,
somehow or other, the plant or animal has a choice
in the matter, or at least some power to improve
itself or its position. A plant is liable to be eaten
by cattle, and might be the better of spines ; and
as it needs them, so the need provides them, and
they go down to posterity. An animal would be
profited by claws to seize its prey ; and the wish
calls forth rudimentary claws, which go down with
improvements from generation to generation. But
no such idea is meant to be conveyed by Darwin.
NATURAL SELECTION. 4 1
The law is simply, that, where a plant happens to
get a thorn, or a beast a claw, it is more likely to
live while others perish, and that it transmits its
endowment to posterity. It means that, in the
struggle for existence, the stronger, or the better
adapted to its position, will prevail. Even this pre-
supposes that there are capacities in nature, — the
capacity of producing spines and claws in certain
circumstances. But there is more than this implied :
it is implied that strength, or any useful peculiarity,
once acquired, will become hereditar}^ This last
is a very complex law, or rather process, the pre-
cise elements of which have not been unfolded.
Mr. Darwin says that science has hitherto thrown
no light on the nature of heredity. "The laws
governing inheritance are quite unknown : no one
can say wh}^ the same peculiarity in different indi-
viduals of the same species, and in individuals of
different species, is sometimes inherited and some-
times not so ; why it often reverts, in certain char-
acters, to its grandfather or grandmother, or other
much more remote ancestor ; why a peculiarity is
often transmitted from one sex to both sexes, or to
one sex alone, more commonly, but not exclusively,
to the like sex." * Depend upon it, when the pro-
cess is explored, there will be found an immense
number and variety of adaptations to secure that the
peculiarity of the individual, found to be useful, will
not perish with the individual, but go down to future
ages.
* Origin of Species, chap. i.
42 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
As long as such men as Agassiz in this country,
and Milne Edwards and his school in France,
oppose the theory of Darwin, not only by their
authority, but by their facts and arguments, Dar-
winism cannot be regarded as settled. Sir William
Thomson, in a set of papers in the " North British
Review " and elsewhere, — papers of which I do
not say that they will never be answered, but of
which I affirm that they have not hitherto been
answered, — shows that the derivation of all ani-
mated beings from one original germ cannot be
reconciled with astronomy ; which declares that the
earth was formed at a comparatively late date,
whereas the formation of all living creatures by
natural selection requires indefinite ages. My
opinion on such a subject is of no scientific value ;
but I am inclined to think that the theor}^ contains a
large body of important truths, which we see illus-
trated in every department of organic nature ; but
that it does not contain the whole truth, and that it
overlooks more than it perceives. Whence this
power which raises the plant, which raises the ani-
mal, from age to age? Whence, for example, the
sensation in animals, their liability to pleasure and
pain? Whence the instincts of animals? — of the
spider, the bee, the horse, the dog, the elephant?
Natural selection might modify them, supposing
them to exist ; but the question is. How came they
to exist? Were they, at least as germs, in the origi-
nal star dust? Or have they been added? Or, if
added, by natural law? or how? To these questions
GENESIS AND GEOLOGY. 43
science can give no answer, and should not pretend to
be able to give an answer. When it talks, with such
seeming profundity and wisdom, of "conditions," let
it not imagine that it is giving an explanation, when
the conditions are unknown, — the conditions, for
example, of the production of the affection of the
mother bird or beast for its offspring. But, on this
subject, religion can say as little, except that it
should trace all things up to God ; not being able,
however, to determine whether he has been acting
by an immediate fiat, or, as he usually does, by
secondary causes.
On one point, however, religion has a title to
speak out. I do not know that she has any special
charge given her of the lower animals, except to
see that they are protected and kindly treated. But
religion is addressed to man, and she has to see
that man's nature is not degraded and reduced to
the same level as that of the brutes. There has
been a special revelation made as to the origin
and destiny of man ; and this we must uphold and
defend.
There is, account for it as we may, a general
correspondence between the record in the Bible and
the record in stone. My friend Hugh Miller ma}'"
not have been able to point out an identity in every
minute particular ; but he has certainly established
a general congruity. There is an order and there is
a progression very much the same in both. In both
there is light before the sun appears. In Genesis,
the fiat goes forth, "Let there be light, and there
44 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
was light" the first day, and the sun comes forth
only the fourth, — in accordance with science, which
tells us that the earth was thrown oflT ages before
the sun had become condensed into the centre of
the planetary system. In both, the inanimate comes
before the animate ; in both, the grass and herb
and tree, before the animal; in both, fishes and
fowls, before creeping things and cattle. In both,
we have, as the last of the train, man standing up-
right, and facing the sky ; made of the dust of the
ground, and yet filled with the inspiration of God.
As both agree in the history of the past, so both
agree as to the future of the world. The Scrip-
tures point, not obscurely, to a day of dissolution.
2 Pet. iii. 5 : " This they willingly are ignorant of,
that by the word of God the heavens were of old, and
the earth standing out of the water and in the water :
whereby the world that then was, being overflowed
with water, perished. But the heavens and the earth
which are now, by the same word are kept in store,
reserved unto fire against the day of judgment."
All men of science are agreed that, according to
the laws now in operation, there is in our S3'stem a
wasting of energy in the shape of heat, which must,
in an indefinite time, bring our cosmos to a state of
chillness and death ; to be followed, some think, by
an accumulation of heat and a conflagration, which
will reduce all things to star dust ; out of which, by
the agglomeration of matter, new worlds will arise.
It may be rash in any one to imagine that he sees
so far into the future, in which new powers may
ORIGIN OF MAN.
45
appear, as they have certainly done in the past ;
but this, it can be demonstrated, is and must be the
issue, according to the powers now working. Such
is the correspondence between science and Scrip-
ture. You will tind no such correspondence be-
tween modern discovery and any work of heathen
mythology, eastern or western. Prima facie, there
must be a great truth in that opening chapter of
Genesis, which has anticipated geology by three
thousand years.
Mr. Darwin has not given to the world his views
as to the origin of man.* Mr. Wallace, who, con-
temporaneously with Darwin, discovered the law
of Natural Selection (the publication of a paper b}^
him called forth Darwin's book), has declared, in a
work recently published, f that there are insuperable
difficulties in applying that law to the derivation of
the human race. He declares boldly, "I do not
consider that all nature can be explained on the
principles of which I am so ardent an advocate ; "
and he discovers evidence of an "unknown higher
law, beyond and independent of all those laws of
which we have any knowledge." He conducts an
argument to show "the insufficiency of Natural
Selection to account for the development of man."
There are gaps between the brute and man which
* This was true when this Lecture was delivered. When it is
going through the press, '• The Descent of Man," Vol. I., has
appeared in America. If Vol. II. appears before this volume is
issued, I may notice the whole work in the Appendix.
t Wallace on Natural Selection. X.
46 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
cannot be filled up. " The brain of the lowest
savages, and, as far as we yet know, of the pre-
historic races, is little inferior in size to that of the
highest types of man, and immensely superior to
that of the higher animals." "The collections of Dr.
J. B. Davis and Dr. Morton give the following as the
average internal capacity of the cranium in the chief
races : Teutonic familj^, ninety-four cubic inches ;
Esquimaux, ninety-one cubic inches; Negroes,
eighty-five cubic inches ; Australians and Tas-
manians, eighty-two cubic inches; Bushmen,
seventy-seven cubic inches. These last numbers,
however, are deduced from comparatively few
specimens, and may be below the average ; just as
a small number of Finns and Cossacks give ninety-
eight cubic inches, or considerably more than that of
the German races. It is evident, therefore, that the
absolute bulk of the brain is not necessarily much
less in savage than in civilized man ; for Esquimaux
skulls are known with a capacity of one hundred
and thirteen inches, or hardly less than the largest
among Europeans. But, what is still more extra-
ordinar}^, the few remains yet known of prehistoric
man do not indicate any material diminution in the
size of the brain case. A Swiss skull of the stone
age, found in the lake dwelling of Meilen, corre-
sponded exactly to that of a Swiss youth of the
present day. The celebrated Neanderthal skull
had a larger circumference than the average ; and
its capacity, indicating actual mass of brain, is
estimated to have been not less than seventy-five
ORIGIN OF MAN. 47
cubic inches, or nearly the average of existing
Austrahan crania. The Engis skull, perhaps the
oldest known, and which, according to Sir John
Lubbock, ' there seems no doubt was really con-
temporary with the mammoth and the cave bear,'
is yet, according to Professor Huxley, 'a fair
average skull, w'hich might have belonged to a
philosopher, or might have contained the thought-
less brains of a savage.'" Let us turn now to the
brain of animals. "The adult male orang-utan is
quite as bulky as a small-sized man. while the gorilla
is considei^ably above the average size of man, as
estimated by bulk and weight : yet the former has a
brain of only twenty-eight cubic inches ; the latter,
one of thirty, or, in the largest specimen yet known,
of thirty-four and a half cubic inches. We have
seen that the average cranial capacity of the lowest
savages is probably not less than tive-sixths of that
of the highest civilized races, while the brain of the
anthropoid apes scarcely amounts to one-third of
that of man, in both cases taking the average ; or
the proportions may be more clearly represented by
the following figures : anthropoid apes, ten ; savages,
twent}' -six ; civilized man, thirty-two." There is no
evidence, then, of a gradual rise, by natural law,
from the brute to the lowest form of man. Mr.
Wallace emphatically urges that savages have a
brain capacity not required by their wants, and
which could not have been produced by their wants
in the strufrcrle of life.
He dwells on some other capacities, which he says
^8 NATURAL TIIEOLOGT.
cannot be accounted for by the theory. "The soft,
naked, sensitive skin of man, entirely free from that
hairy covering which is so universal among other
mammalia, cannot be explained on the theory of
natural selection. The habits of savages show that
they feel the want of this covering, which is most
completely absent in man exactly where it is thick-
est on other animals. We have no reason whatever
to believe that it could have been hurtful, or even
useless, to primitive man ; and, under these circum-
stances, its complete abolition, shown by its never
reverting in mixed breeds, is a demonstration of the
agency of some other power than the law of the
survival of the fittest, in the development of man
from the lower animals. Other characters show
difficulties of a similar kind, though not perhaps in
an equal degree. The structure of the human foot
and hand seem unnecessarily perfect for the needs
of savage man, in whom they are as completely and
as humanly developed as in the highest races. The
structure of the human larynx, giving the power of
speech and of producing musical sounds, and espe-
cially its extreme development in the female sex,
are shown to be beyond the needs of savages, and
from their known habits impossible to have been
acquired either by sexual selection or by survival
of the fittest." These are difficulties which present
themselves to Mr. Wallace as a naturalist. He sees
also those which arise from his possession of men-
tal faculties which have no relation to his fellow-
men or to his material progress, to his possession of
ORIGIN OF MAN. 49
consciousness, his power of conceiving eternit}' and
infinity, and the sense of right and wrong which
he finds in unciviHzed tribes. After quoting Mr.
Huxley, who says that " our thoughts are the expres-
sion of molecular changes in that matter of life
which is the source of our other vital phenomena,"
Mr. Wallace remarks that he has not been able to
find the clew by which Mr. Huxley " passes from
those vital phenomena which consist only, in their
last analysis, of movements of particles of matter,
to those other phenomena which we term thought,
sensation, or consciousness."
Science, it is acknowledged, can produce no direct
evidence of man beingr derived from the brute. The
argument against the doctrine must be drawn mainly
from his possession of qualities not found in the
lower animals. As, most obvious of all, we have
organs of speech, and, as more important, the power
of using them intelligently.* We have the faculty
of reaching abstract and general truth, a faculty
which the brute creatures do not possess ; when
they seem to have it, it arises, as can be shown,
merely from the association of ideas. Then there
is the capacity of distinguishing between good and
evil, and that of free will to choose the good and
* " Although it has been at various times stated that certain
savage tribes are entirely without language, none of those
accounts appear to be well authenticated, and they are a priori
extremely improbable. At any rate, even the lowest races of
which we have any satisfactory account possess a language,
imperfect though it may be, and eked out to a great extent by
signs." — Lubbock, Origin of Civilization ; VIII.
50 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
avoid the evil. Crowning them all, is man's power
to rise to a knowledge of God, to the contem-
plation of his perfections, and to acts of worship.
These higher attributes of humanity wdll fall under
our consideration, w^hen we come to look at the
mind. Science can say nothing as to how all these
qualities came to be superinduced. Were they in
the star dust when it was incandescent? or did they
appear when it began to cool? If so, in what state?
If not so, when and where and how did they come
in? Science, physiological or paleontological, can
throw no light on this subject, and should not decide
or dogmatize when it has no data to proceed on.
The Book of Genesis, which has so anticipated
geology in the account which it has given of the
successive appearance of plants and animals, has
here gone beyond science, and given an account
against which science has and can have nothing to
advance.
That account is brief, simple, general, avoiding
minute and circumstantial details: Gen. ii. 7, "And
the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground,
and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life ; " a
statement implying first the connection of man with
the earth, — with its dust, its flesh, or animal nature,
— and at the same time connecting him with heaven
by an inspiration, or breath of the Almighty. Such
is the very summary account of the physical crea-
tion, of the formation of the dust, the flesh, the
bodily frame. Does it say how it was done, by
natural or supernatural law, by means or without
TRACES OF PROGRESSION. 51
means? Scripture enlarges and dwells only on the
higlier endowment, the truly human, as distinguished
from the animal endowment; as Gen. i. 26, "And
God said, Let us make man in our image, after our
likeness : and let him have dominion over th;"; fish
of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over
the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every
creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. So
God created man in his own image, in the image of
God created he him." All this is in accordance with
clearly established fact. Man has affinities with the
lower animals : this should not be denied. Like
them he is formed out of dust and returns to dust.
But at the same time he has qualities which assimi-
late him to God, — a power of looking back into the
past and anticipating the future, of tracing effects to
causes and anticipating effects from causes, of appre-
ciating the fair and the good, and a free choice to
act on his conviction. And is there not need of
Divine breath to produce all this, to make this dust
a living soul ? Is there not need of a Divine decree
to make his soul like unto God in knowledg-e, riirht-
eousness, and true holiness? In doing all this, God
is onl}- carrying out and completing the plan shad-
owed forth in the geological ages. These two lect-
ures are only an exposition of what the Apostle says :
I Cor. XV. 46, " Howbeit, that was not first which
is spiritual (^Ttveviiatixbi') , but that which is natural
(^wvxr/.or) ; and afterward that which is spiritual."
And so there appear farther evidences of pro-
gression, and of a progressive progression. The
52 NATURAL TIIEOLOGT.
powers of nature are made by a power above them,
to bring forth higher products characterized by wis-
dom, by skill, and by taste. Your believer in mere
Natural Law and Natural Selection has seen only
half the truth, or rather he has not seen half the
truth. Like one of those insects which he may
have been microscopically examining, he has seen
only the smallest objects. Mole-like, he has been
burro win fj a dark and confined tunnel throuirh the
underground clay, instead of walking upright like
a man, and looking around him on the extended
earth, and up into the expanse of heaven. He has
used the microscope and seen the infinitely little ;
but he refuses to look through the telescope, which
shows him how the littles are formed into structures
of infinite greatness and grandeur. All, no doubt,
proceeds from natural laws ; but these are made to
work out typical forms, geometrically correct and
aesthetically beautiful. The cold winter gives us
frost-work, and the warm summer yields us flowers ;
and contemporaneously there appear intellect and
taste to measure and appreciate it. The blind forces
are made by One who has eyes to evolve ideas,
patterns, exemplars, which perceiving minds are
constructed to behold and admire. Finally, above
the physical, above the intellectual even, there rises
the moral, like stars out of the star dust, or rather
like stars rising out of these other stars, only brighter,
purer, and more enduring. At the point to which
we have come, a new progression is opening to us
in an endless vista.
THE MORAL POWER. 53
Darwin has caught an important fact, when he
says that there is a principle of Natural Selection in
nature : the strong live and multiply and increase ;
while the weak die, give way, and disappear. This
is certainly a law of the plants and of the lower
animals. It looks in the earlier periods of human
history as if this law were still the ruling one, as
if bodily strength and brute force were to subdue
the weak and hold them in subjecdon. The first
empires — the Egyptian, the Assyrian, the Baby-
lonian, the Persian — were very much founded on
this principle. And is this to go On for ever, the
powerful tyrannizing over the feeble, men making
women do all the menial work, and the great body
of the people, even in such civilized countries as
Greece and Rome, slaves to the few? In the
progression of events, there appear clear proofs
that the old law is to give w^ay before a higher
to which it is subordinated. There are indicadons
that intelligence is to prevail over unreasoning
force. Nations of the highest mental power and
cultivation, such as the Greeks and Romans, begin
to take the lead, and rule by forethought, by coun-
sel, by firm government.
As we advance, we see a new, a still more impor-
tant law emerging, and urging its claim not only to
a place, but a supreme place, declaring that right is
above might, that moral good is higher even than
intellectual strength. A people with high intelli-
gence may become pleasure-loving, sensual, as the
Greeks did in their great commercial cities; may
54 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
become selfish, cruel, dissolute, as the Romans did
in the decline of their empire, — and a hardier and a
more moral race comes in like a fresh, cool breeze
to fill up the heated and relaxing atmosphere. Not
that the law of the prevalence of strength is abso-
lutely set aside, but it -is subordinated to a higher
law, or rather higher laws, which limit and restrain
it, and may be made to direct and to elevate it. The
intellectual rises above the physical, and asserts its
right to govern it, even as the soul claims to rule
over the body. But there is more : the moral rises
above the intellectual, and claims that the under-
standing should be obedient to it, even as the
conscience, which is the law in the heart, declares
that it should rule over the head, and over the
whole man. Na}', the very moral ideas and senti-
ments make progress by purification and refine-
ment : an earthly morality like that of Jacob is made
to flame into the love of John ; and the rigid prohi-
bitions of the commandments, written on stone, be-
come the blessings of the discourses of Jesus, meant
to be written on the fleshly tables of the heart.
The Law of Natural Selection — that, in the exu-
berance of seeds and organisms and species, in early
nature the stronger should prevail — is in itself a
beneficent one. " All changes of form or structure,
all increase in the size of an organ or its complex-
ity, all greater specialization or physiological divis-
ion of labor, can only be brought about, inasmuch
as it is for the ijood of the beinj:^ so modified." * It
* Wallace on Natural Selection.
THE MORAL POWER. 55
allows the weak, after enjoying their brief time of
existence, to die and disappear; while the vigorous
leave behind a still stronger progeny to rise to a
fuller development and intenser enjoyments. But
there are stringent limits set to this law. It is, after
all, the law of the period of the unconscious plant
and irrational brute. It comes to be subordinated
to a higher, and this to a still higher. Intellect
comes later; but, like the more recent geological
formations, it mounts the highest, and overlies and
overlooks all the rest. Thought gains, and it retains,
the highest positions ; the giants disappear, and the
civilized peoples take their place ; the Canaanites,
with their chariots of iron, are conquered by men
who carry with them a higher mission ; the walls
of Jericho fall down before the blowing of trumpets
sounding truth to all people. The forests are cut
down to let the fields yield corn and wheat, and
barley and vines, and figs and olives; and trees
are left only for shelter and for lawn ornaments.
The creatures with stings and claws and fangs — the
foxes, the wolves, the leopards — give way before
sheep and horses and kine. There is still a struggle
for existence, but the skill which devises means and
invents instruments prevails over brute force and
fierceness. And this power of understanding is
destined to be sublimed into something nobler and
more ethereal. Above the dead earth and agitated
sea there is to rise an atmosphere in which the
living are to breathe and move and fly. The intel-
lectual era seems to culminate in Greece in the days
56 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
of Pericles, when free thought and art and literature
have reached their zenith. But in that very age, a
new and a vastly greater power comes into view.
Socrates is defeated, and yet Socrates conquers.
He drinks the hemlock, and dies ; but it is in the
hope of an immortality. His body is burned; but
the flame by which this was effected, a new corre-
lated force, is never to be extinguished. His perse-
cutors are forgotten, or remembered only to be
execrated ; but the moral power of Socrates still
walks our earth. A new struggle for existence
has begun. It was exhibited and symbolized at
Thermopylge, where the power of numbers was
met and defeated by the heroism of a devoted few.
It was an anticipation of what was to come.
But there were better prefigurations of it among
a people specially called and set apart for the pur-
pose ; in an enslaved race, trained to become the
depositaries of the truth, and in due time the mis-
sionaries of the world ; in the law delivered first,
as if to suit the ages of giant strength, amid thunders
and lightnings and tempest, and the voice of the
trumpet waxing louder and louder, and then com-
ing forth from the gentle lips of Jesus ; first in the
strong wind, the earthquake, and the fire, fol-
lowed by the still, small voice, which is specially
the voice of God as heard in the later prophets,
and still more sweetly in the discourses of Him
who spake as never man spake. In due time the
t\pes, the bloody sacrifices, the whole burnt-
offerings, culminate in an archetype, in which we
PLACE OF CF^RIST. 57
see the highest strength coming out of the lowest
weakness.
This new struggle, it is so destined, had its grand
battle-field on Mount Calvary. You may see it all
acted on the cross which is raised high there, that it
may draw all e3'es towards it. You have there the
writhings, the faintings, the cup of gall, the sponge
filled with vinegar, the agony closing in death ; and
you perceive, at the same time, the confidence put
in him by suffering and loving hearts, — "Remem-
ber me when thou comest into thy kingdom." Yes,
that weakest, most forsaken of men is acknowl-
edged as a king and as having a kingdom ; and his
answer is, To-day thou shalt be with me in this king-
dom of paradise. This most defenceless of men,
who uses no carnal weapons, who refuses to bring
down fire from heaven to destroy his enemies,
becomes the greatest conqueror which this world
has seen, — greater than the Egyptian, the Baby-
lonian, the Greek, or the Roman, — and subdues
under him, not the mere bodies of men, but the
loftiest intellects which have adorned our world, and
hearts purified and burning with love. He rises
out of the grave, to become a victor whose triumphs
know no end. Crucified as a slave by a Roman
deputy, he conquers the Roman power ; and the
emperor who fought so long and fiercely against
him has to exclaim with his dying breath, "Thou
hast conquered me, O Galilean ! " By suffering, he
has accomplished ends which he could never have
gained by prosperity and success. He has become
3*
58 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
perfect through suffering, and has secured the
means of gaining the heart of the sufferer and of
elevating the fallen : the fallen man who clings to
him ; the fallen woman who bathes his feet with
her tears, and pours forth the feelings of her heart
more precious than the ointment from the alabaster
box; the fallen nations, as seen in the once savacre
tribes of Germany and Britain, who have been
raised by Christianity ; and of exalting the fallen
race of mankind, who have thereby risen from
condemnation to justification, from alienation to
reconciliation with God. This is a cause for the
promotion of which, this is a lesson for the teachino-
of which, it was worthy of God to become flesh and
tabernacle on the earth, and sufler and die. He
has thereby shown that there is something greater
in him than his almightiness. I have sometimes
felt as if God could scarcely be regarded by us as
thoroughly perfect, unless he w^ere capable of sub-
mitting to suffering. I have felt at times that, if this
w^ere denied him, his creatures might reach a per-
fection which he has not, which he cannot have. I
believe that the Word becoming flesh and taber-
nacling on the earth is an essential part of the plan
which we see developing before our eyes ; and it
seems as if the transaction were placed in the verv
middle of the ages, as the keystone of the bridge
which connects the two compartments of God's
works, — the ph3-sical, with its force and its struggle
for existence, with the moral, with its sufferings and
its triumphs. In earthly affairs, there may be a
THE PRESENT STRUGGLE. 59
greater glory in suffering and sorrow than in pros-
perity and dazzling splendor : there may, for ex-
ample, be a greater glory in the soldier's death than
in his life ; there was a greater glory in Samson's
death than in all the achievements of his life. But
speak not of the glory of the soldier bleeding in
defence of a nation's rights ; speak not of the glory
of the patriot toiling and suffering and dying for
his country's freedom ; speak not of the glory ot
the martyr calm and rejoicing while tied to the
burning stake : these have no glory because of the
glory that excelleth, — the glory of Christ's conde-
scension and patience and love, in submitting to
shame, to sorrow, and to death.
Now this is the era in which our lot is cast. This
is the struggle in which we are required to take our
part. It commenced at an early date : " I will put
enmity between thee and the woman, and between
thy seed and her seed : it shall bruise thy head,
and thou shalt bruise his heel." The serpent is
seen bruising the heel of the seed of the woman.
The good have still to suffer, but in their suffering
they show their goodness. We are in a dispensa-
tion in which the plant must be bruised before it
yields its odors, in which the rose must wither be-
fore it yields its undying perfume. A good cause
must have its martyrs before it triumphs. John
Brown has to be put to death before the manacles
are struck from the slave. Your Abraham Lin-
coln is shot in the midst of the shouts of victory.
"Verily, verily, I say unto you. Except a corn of
6o NATURAL THEOLOGY.
wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth
alone : but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.
He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that
hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life
eternal."
Let us realize that our lot is cast in such a dis-
pensation. Thei^e are strong men, and seemingly
wise men, in our day who do not see it. I have set
myself all my life against the doctrine taught in the
works of Thomas Carlyle (or rather the impres-
sion left by them), and the writings of others who
ape him, without his strength, and which would lead
us to worship heroes and deify force. I repudiate
the principle which underlies and runs through the
whole of Buckle's " History of Civilization," that
intellect has been, is, and ought to be the grand
moving power in the world. True, intellect must
always, in the end, be the main agent or instrument
in helping forward the advancement of the race ;
but it is only in the sense in which steam is the
agent in moving the railway cars. In contemplat-
inpf the steam-en fjine, we rise bevond the steam to
consider the mind which has constructed and is
guiding the whole ; so, in weighing the causes
which have imparted progress to humanity, we
must look beyond the intellectual force to the deeper
moral power which has awakened it. Has not intel-
ligence in many countries — as in Switzerland, in
Prussia, in Holland, in Scotland, in New Eng-
land, and in other States of the Union — been called
forth by the Reformation, by the Covenanting and
DUTY TO SUPPORT THE WEAK. 6t
Puritan faith? and nations which lose that faitli
may find that they have cut down the tree on
which the fruit grew, on which fruit they can feed
no longer.
Of all acts of cowardice, the meanest is that
which leads us to abandon a good cause because it
is weak, and join a bad cause because it is strong.
The smitten deer is said to be avoided by the herd, —
it is the instinct of the brute ; but in the higher law
which reio-ns in the breast of mankind and woman-
kind, you never saw the smitten son abandoned by
the mother, who may be seen, instead, standing
by him at the foot of the cross on which he is sus-
pended, undeservedly or deservedly. I do fear that,
in my past life, I have often been tempted to pay
obeisance to false gods ; but I thank the great God
that I have always been kept from that prevalent
form of idolatry — found not only in Persia and in
the East, but in this Western world — which wor-
ships the rising sun. I confess that I might have
been enticed to adore him in his setting splendors ;
that is, in some of those old grandeurs which have
had their day, and are now disappearing in a
soft radiance which they did not possess in their
zenith. I am sure that there is nothing in my past
life of which I am entitled to be proud ; but if I
could take credit for any thing, it would be for
the fact, that, — descended from Covenanting fore-
fathers, who, not contented with suffering as the
Puritans did, went on to resist oppression on their
heather hills, which always look to me as if they had
62 NATURAL TIIEOLOGT.
been d3'ed with their blood, — I have in the great
questions of the day, educational and religious, in
Scotland and in Ireland, cast in my lot with the
minority, which in due season became the majority ;
and when I left any cause, it was because it had
waxed strong, and did not need my poor aid. We
have to see to it that, in the struggle of life, we
stand by right, and not by might, being sure that
in the end the right shall have the might. Should
we act otherwise, we shall certainly fall under that
law of degradation, which requires that evil, once
committed, goes down to the third and fourth gen-
eration of them that hate him, when God gives
men up to the consequences of their own iniquity,
and the curse alights on them : " Curse ye Meroz,
curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof; because
they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help
of the Lord against the mighty."
TIT.
Limits to the Law of Natural Selection. — This World
A Scene of Struggle. — Appearance of Spiritual
Life. — Final Cause. — New Life. — Unity and
Growth in the World. — Higher Products coming
forth. — Signs of Progress.
"^r^HERE are clear indications, in the geological
ages, of a progression from the inanimate up
to the animate, and from the lower animate to the
higher. The mind, ever impelled to seek for
causes, asks how all this is produced. The answer,
if answer can be had, is to be given by science, and
not by religion ; which simply insists that we trace
all things up to God, whether acting by immediate
or by mediate agency. Mr. Darwin would refer it
all to the somewhat vaguely enunciated principle
of Natural Selection, or the preservation of the
creatures best suited to their circumstances, and the
success of the strong; in the struijirle of life. That
this principle is exhibited in nature, and working
to the advancement of the plants and animals from
age to age, I have no doubt. We see it operating
before our eyes every spring, when we find the
weak plant killed by the frosts of winter, and the
64 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
Strong surviving and producing a progeny strong
as itself. But it has not been proven that there is
no other principle at work. I am not satisfied that
this principle has produced life out of dead matter,
that it has produced sentient beings out of insentient,
that it has wrought the conscious mind from the
unconscious body, that it has generated man from
the brute. There is no positive proof that it has so
much as produced a new species of animals out of
old ones. In regard to this latter point, it seems to
account for some of the phenomena, but leaves
others unexplained. In particular, there are gaps
in the geological ages between the species of one
age and those of another age, with no" intermediate
species to fill it, as being the descendants of the
one and the progenitors of the other. There must
be other powers and principles at work in nature as
well as Natural Selection.
The law of the weak being made to give way
before the strong is very apt to be abused, and will
certainly be perverted by those who do not take
into account the other and higher laws which limit
it, and are expected to subordinate it. If they look
to it alone, they will understand it as meaning that
the poor and the iielpless need not be protected or
defended, but maybe allowed to perish : thus bring-
ino; us down to the condition of the South Sea
Islanders, who kill their infants ; of the Hindoos
and Africans, who expose their aged parents, as
having become useless. If this doctrine prevails,
it will make the shadovv on the dial of time go back
LIMITS TO NATURAL SELECTION. 65
for ages, and bring us to the age of monster ani-
mals, or monster men, like Samson or like Her-
cules. Persons would look upon it as meaning
that the uncivilized races may be allowed to disap-
pear, without an effort being made to raise them ;
a principle which, in old times, would have required
that our German or British or Celtic ancestors, in
the days of Julius Caesar, and as described by him,
should have been allowed to die out and to vanish.
Nature itself, if only we condescend to discover the
final cause in her operations, rebels against this
cowardice, and shows us the mother loving with an
especial tenderness, not the strong son who can do
for himself, but that weak boy who has been the
object of her care from his infancy ; and she will
cherish him, in the hope that he may display softer
and finer traits of character to which the healthy
youth is a stranger. If the tenet which I am de-
nouncing come to be the prevailing belief in this
country, it will issue in the weak races on this con-
tinent, the Indian and the Negro, being consigned
to a slow but certain dissolution ; and ridicule will
be poured on the attempts which philanthropic
men are at present making to elevate them by
schools and colleges, by justice and b}^ kindness.
A doctrine this, worse than slave-holding in its
worst features, and quite as likely to be entertained
by the self-sufiicient North as by the conquered
South, suffering at present for its sins, but certain to
rise in the future, if only it can be induced to aim
at raising and improving that race which ot late
66 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
years has, all unknowingly to itself, had so impor-
tant a place in the providential dealings of God
towards this country; and which, as it remains
among us, must be tor our weal or our woe, accord-
ing as we hasten to educate them, or allow them to
fall into deeper degradation. I admit the tendency
of mankind to degenerate ; but I believe in a power
to restrain and reverse it. It was the power which
brought our Lord on that morning from the tomb,
and whose function it is to enlighten the ignorant,
to strengthen the weak, and raise the fallen ; and,
as it does so, to put what it attains under the benefi-
cent law of hereditary descent, so that it may go
down from father to son, and from one generation
to another, through all coming ages.
At this present time, the two theories of man's
origin, the earth-born and the heaven-born, are
striving tor the mastery. According to the earth-
born theory, there are essendally inferior races,
which are doomed to give way "in the struggle for
existence ; " and the defenders of it look on the pros-
pect with complacency, provided a few favored races
are enabled to advance on '' the principle of natural
selection." I believe that this tenet is exercising,
directly or indirectly, a very injurious influence on
public sentiment in this country and in others. This
spirit is setting itself determinedly against mission-
ary effort, is scoffing at all alleged good done to the
degraded, and undermining that faith among our
students which would prompt them to labor for the
good of the heathen or the outcast. In the last
DUTY OF ELEVATING THE FALLEN. 67
age the cry was, First civilize, and then Chris-
tianize ; and it was uttered by men who took no
pains either to civiHze or to Christianize. The
leeHng now is, that it is of no use attempting to
elevate the inferior races, and that they may be
allowed to disappear, provided the higher races
(such as the Aryan, and speciall}^ the Anglo-Saxon)
are made to take their place. It is a fit creed and
sentiment for those who wish to make the heathen,
or the sunken among whom the}'^ dwell, the ministers
of their grasping selfishness or of their lusts, with-
out being troubled with any reproaches of con-
science. How different in its practical bearing is
the faith of the Christian, who holds that God has
" made of one blood all nations ; " and that all human
beings are alike in that they possess souls capable
of improvement and destined to live for ever !
Catching the spirit of Him who stood by the weak
against the strong, w^ho came to seek and save
that which was lost, who permitted the woman who
was a sinner to approach him, and ever sought to
raise the fallen, the disciple of Christ recognizes as
brothers and sisters the lowest specimens of hu-
manity, whether found in pagan lands or in the
lowest sinks of our cities ; and, having experienced
the power of truth and grace upon his own heart,
he goes forth in the efficacy of the blood of Christ,
and in the regenerating power of the Spirit, to ele-
vate them for this world and the next. Need I ask
which of these is the genuine philanthropy, most
worthy of heaven, and suited to earth and to man's
6S NATURAL THEOLOGY.
nature? I for one would not like to see all the
varieties of mankind disappear, and the whole
reduced to one race, though that should be the
Anglo-Saxon, an}^ more than I would like to see
all the trees of the forest reduced to one species,
though that should be the oak. I rejoice in the
diversity which I see in all nature, — in sea and
land, in hill and vale, in plant and animal; and I
should like to see each race of mankind retaininfr
its peculiarities, while all are elevated ; so that the
song of praise coming from regenerated humanity
to the great Creator may not be a mere melody, but
a harmony rising from " a great multitude, which
no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds,
and peoples, and tongues."
We have seen that there are insuperable diffi-
culties, even in a Natural History point of view, in
the theory that man is sprung from the brutes.
And man appears in a state of things suited to him,
and evidently prepared for him, in plants and ani-
mals ready to affi^rd him food and clothing and
shelter and defence, and also to gratify and to edu-
cate his sense of beauty. Often have I heard my
lamented friend Hufjh Miller fondlv dilatincf on this
last subject. "They tell that man's world, with all
its griefs and troubles, is more emphatically a world
of flowers than any of the creations that preceded
it; and that as one great family, the Grasses, were
called into existence, in order apparently that he
might enter, in favoring circumstances, upon his
two earliest avocations, and be in good hope a
APPEARANCE OF MAN. 69
keeper of herds and a tiller of the ground ; and as
another family of plants, the Rosace^e, was created,
in order that the gardens, which it would be also
one of his vocations to keep and to dress, should
have their trees ' good for food and pleasant to the
taste : ' so flowers in general were properly produced
just ere he appeared, to minister to the sense of
beauty which distinguishes him from all other creat-
ures, and to which he owes not a few of his most
exquisite enjoyments." It does not appear as if the
surrounding circumstances could have produced
man, or that man could have produced the surround-
ing circumstances ; and in their contemporaneous
appearance and mutual adaptation — man loving
flowers, and flowers being cared for by him and
improved — we may discover traces of design.
When human beings come on the field, a new
era commences, even in Natural History. Man
modifies Natural Selection, by bringing things to-
gether w'hich are separated in physical geography.
The commission to him was: "Be fruitful, and
multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it :
and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and
over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing
that moveth upon the earth." Henceforth he acts
on natural agents to modify and improve them ;
causing the earth to w^ave with grain and with fruits,
and substituting sheep and kine and horses for wild
and destructive animals.
And as ages roll on, there is doubtless a progres-
sion in human nature. The intellectual comes to
70 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
rule tlie physical, and the moral claims to sub-
ordinate both. It is no longer strength of body-
that prevails, but strength of mind ; while the law
of God proclaims itself superior to both. There
is still a Law of Natural Selection : but, under the
new dispensation, the strong has met with a still
stronger ; and right, which is the strongest, would
regulate both the strong body and the stronger
mind. It may still be that the strongest, the fittest,
are to prevail ; but it is becoming evident that the
strongest and the fittest are not physical, or even
intellectual strength, but the moral forces supported
by the righteous God. But all this is to be accom-
plished and manifested by a struggle, in which we see
that "God hath chosen the foolish things of the world
to confound the wise ; and God hath chosen the weak
things of the world to confound the things which are
mighty; and base things of the world, and things
which are despised, hath God chosen ; yea, and things
which are not, to bring to nought things that are."'
The champions of Natural Religion, in defending
the great doctrines of the Existence and Goodness
of God, have often drawn far too fair a picture of
the state of our world. Keeping sin and misery
entirely out of sight, they argue as if there were
nothing but beneficence to be seen. But this world
is not now, and, so far as science throws light on the
subject, it never has been, in the state in which the
sentimental believer in theism represents it, or would
wish it to be. Whatever we might expect or desire,
our world is not now, and has never been, a scene of
STRUGGLE IN THE HUMAN PERIOD. 71
perpetual calm and never-ending sunshine, of peace
and unmixed happiness, or of unbroken love on the
part of every creature to every other. On the con-
trary, there have been in it, from the beginning,
warring elements and raging storms and creatures
devouring each other. It is a world in which there
are now, and ever have been since life began, pain
and suffering, and the struggle of individuals and
races for existence and for mastery. Yet, in the
midst of these scenes, w-e see clear proofs of con-
trivance and wisdom and kindness in the fittings
of things into each other, and the evidently benefi-
cent end of every organ of the animal frame, and in
good being brought out of evil. The ocean is in
many respects an emblem of this world of ours, —
often so calm as to reflect heaven upon its bosom,
but at times stirred into turbulence and revealing
awful depths. There was a struggle in the pre-
Adamite ages. There is a struggle in the human
ages. The earth yields thorns and thistles, and
man has to eat bread in the sweat of his face.
Some of us were cherishing the idea that, in
consequence of advancing intelligence, wars would
very much cease. But this cannot be — perhaps we
might go farther, and say it ought not to be — as long
as such evils exist in our world ; certain it is, it will
not be till moral sentiment reaches a higher growth
and exercises greater power. In our day, we have
had, first in the western continent, and now in the
eastern, the two most desolating wars of which the
earth has been the theatre; both, it may be, crush-
72 NATURAL THEOLOGT:
ing much evil, but both attended with awful suffer-
ing, bodily and mental. The world, in its whole
structure and administration, shows the goodness of
God ; but it manifests other qualities, so that as we
look at it we "behold the goodness and severity of
God." It looks as if, from the beginning until now,
our world were meant to be a probation, a battle-field.
And is not this the very view the Scriptures give of
it, — a contest between the good and the evil, a tri-
umph and then true peace ? " The whole creation
groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now."
Our academic theists were refusing to look at our
world under this aspect. Even some of our senti-
mental Christians were turnintj awav from it. It is
a curious circumstance that it is science that has
recalled our attention to it. The fool, as he looks at
these things, will say in his heart that there is no
God ; and the proud man will say, " Who is the
Lord that we should obey him ? " But he who is
open to receive the truth, and the whole truth, will
discover and acknowledge that we live in a scene
in which there is the good, but in which there is also
the evil, and in which it is evidently appointed by
God that the good is to gain the victory, and " the
earnest expectation of the creature waiteth " for it,
and " the creature itself also shall be delivered from
the bondage of corruption."
But in order to this a new power appears on the
earth. And it appears in the person of One who is
identified with man, being born of a woman, and
bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh, and who
APPEARANCE OF CHRIST. 73
yet descends from a higher sphere. The first man,
notwithstanding his fall, was a great advance on all
that had gone before ; but the second man was
immeasurably more so. " And so it is written.
The first man Adam was made a living soul,
the last Adam was made a quickening spirit."
He is the representative, as he is the administrator,
in fact the life, of this new moral power which
came down from heaven. He fits in with all that
has gone before. There were predictions of him
in nature as well as in the Word, — predictions of
him already fulfilled, and many more remaining to
be accomplished. " Lo, I come (in the volume of
the book it is w^ritten of me)." He comes in the
fulness of time into a world which was prepared
for him, not in the sense of being ready to receive
him, but in the sense of needing him. In con-
formity with the very nature of our world, with all
that had gone before he comes to engage in a strug-
gle ; he has to fight a battle with evil, and to gain a
victory. He has, in accordance with the whole
purpose of God in our world, to show his powder by
contending with the evil, and thereby conquering
and subduing it. " Who is this that cometh from
Edom, with dyed garments from Bozrah? this that
is glorious in his apparel, travelling in the great-
ness of his strength? I that speak in righteousness,
mighty to save. Wherefore art thou red in thine
apparel, and thy garments like liim that treadcth in
wine-fat? I have trodden the wine-press alone, and
of the people there was none with me." This, in
4
74 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
accordance with the whole past of our world, — a
world in which there had ever been the shedding
of blood, a world in which there had been sin since
man appeared; and here is One, "without father,
without mother, without descent," who has come to
bear down all opposition and to remove every evil.
" Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most mighty,
with thy glory and thy majesty. And in thy majesty
ride prosperously, because of truth and meekness
and righteousness ; and thy right hand shall teach
thee terrible things. Thine arrows are sharp in the
heart of the king's enemies ; w^hereby the people
fall under thee."
Closely connected with the work of Christ is
another w^ork ; the one developing out of the other,
as in all the operations of God. It was expedient
that Jesus should finish his work, and go away, in
order that another Agent might appear, and intro-
duce a new life into our world. That life proceeded
from Christ's grave, but is sent down by Christ
from heaven. The Spirit takes of the things that
are Christ's, and shows them unto us. A new life
now manifests itself to us ; not sprung from the
earth, but descending from a higher region. It
comes in silently and imperceptibly ; so has life
always done, — the life of the plant, the life of the
animal. "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and
thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell
whence it cometh, and whither it goeth : so is every
one that is born of the Spirit." It is a realit}^ as
every Christian can testify : " One thing I know,
MINISTIiATION OF THE SPIRIT. 75
that whereas I was bhnd, now I see." This is an
assuring fact to the man himself, and others might
do well to ponder it. " But by what he now seeth
we know not." We can tell as little of the manner
of it, as we can of the natural life within us, which
we feel in every organ of our body ; as little of its
mode of introduction, as the man of science can of the
introduction of life, or sensation, or consciousness.
But the appearance of this new life is in analogy
with all that has gone before, — analogous to the
appearance of plant life and animal life and human
life ; analogous, also, to what has preceded, inas-
much as, while it is something superinduced, it is
not independent of what has gone before. The
plant contains something higher than dead matter,
but gathers up into itself all the properties of inani-
mate matter ; the animal has sensation not in the
vegetable, but retains and uses all the qualities of
the plant ; and man has more than the brute, but
retains all the animal endowments. "So is every
one that is born of the Spirit." Man has within his
compound nature dead matter and living matter and
sentient matter, and all his powers of intellect and
feeling just as he had before ; but he has something
higher, controlling, enlivening, and guiding them.
It is a new power, yet not separated from the old
powers: but grafted upon the old, as the chemical
is upon the mechanical, as the vital is upon the
chemical, and the mental on the vital. There is no
proof that, in historical times, an}' new species of
animal has appeared ; but here, in the human period^
76 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
is a new power, suited to the new era. There were
intimations of it in the Old Testament. But it was
full}' revealed when our Lord " spake of the Spirit
which they that believe on Him should receive."
We thus see, more clearly than we could before
these recent paleontological investigations, that there
has been a unity in God's mode of administra-
tion on our earth, in all ages. We have new life
appearing in the geological ages, and new life in
the historical ages. No doubt it all follows laws ;
that is, order and progression. There was doubt-
less law in the appearance of species in the geologic
ages. There seem to be laws in the operations of
the Spirit. It is " like the wand Avhich bloweth
where it listeth ; " but the wind has laws : so it is
with the work of the Spirit in the soul and in the
world. But in the case of the appearance of each
of these modes of life, we see too little of the arc
to be able to describe the whole circle.
We now see clearly the nature of the dispensation
under which we live, — the dispensation of the
Spirit. There is, as there has been, in our earth, a
struggle. But the contest is not between element
and element, between the brutes and the elements,
or between animal and animal. It is first a contest
between man and nature, but it has also become a
contest between the spiritual and the natural. It is
specially a contest between sin and holiness. We
see it in the heart of every man in the contest be-
tween the passions raging like the sea and the
conscience that would restrain them. We see it in
THE GOOD PREVAILS. 77
the heart of every believer, in which " the flesh
lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the
flesh ; and these are contrary the one to the other."
We see it in the world, which is a great battle-field,
in which the combatants are truth and error, pol-
lution and purity. There are clear indications as to
which side is to gain the victory. True, we "see
not yet all things put under Him : " and the reason
is that we are in the heart of the battle, and have a
work to do ; and not at the close, to survey calmly
what has been done. But there are powers operat-
ing, — powers of God which are sure to prevail.
" Magna est Veritas, et prevalebit." The conscience
in the heart claiming supremacy is only a symbol
of the good asserting its right to reign, and subdue
all things to itself. The believer dies like Samson,
midst the jjlories of his strength, and slavs in his
death the last of his spiritual enemies. The light
has as yet been only partially shed on our earth,
but the sun has arisen which is to go round our
globe. The work of the Spirit is at present only
partial ; but we have the assurance that the time is
at hand, "when the Spirit of the Lord shall be
poured on all flesh."
We have been obliged, in this rapid run through
the ages, to step as with seven-leagued boots from
mountain-top to mountain-top, witliout being able
to descend into the connections to be found in the
interesting valleys lying between. And what have
we gathered?
78 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
(i.) We have discovered everywhere traces of
Ends, or Final Cause. The whole school with which
I am arguing are ever seeking to set aside or dispar-
age final cause. Some of them clothe their pride in
the garb of humilit}-, and declare that it would be
presumptuous in them to discover the purposes of
Deity. They are fond of claiming Francis Bacon
as countenancing them. It may be of some mo-
ment to inquire what was the precise teaching of
that far-sighted and sagacious man on this subject
He adopts Aristotle's fourfold division of causes :
the Material, or the mat':er out of which a thinir is
formed ; the Efficient, by which it is formed ; the
Formal, the form which it takes ; and the Final,
being the end which it is made to serve.* It could
be shown, did my subject require or admit, that
there is a deeper foundation for this division than
later philosophers are disposed to allow. If we
want to account for a thing, our inquiry will be,
Out of what is it made ; by what has it been made ;
what is the form or nature which it has been made
to take; and what purposes is it meant to serve?
Bacon sanctions and uses this distinction ; and
in his division of the sciences he proceeds upon it,
and allots Material and Efficient Causes to Physics,
and Formal and Final to Metaphysics, which he
places above Physics. He condemns-those who in
Physics would mix up the inquiry into Final with
that into Efficient Cause ; as if one, who would
determine the nature of the clouds, should satisfy
* Aristotle, Metaphysics, B. iii. c. i.
BACON AND FINAL CAUSE. 79
himself with saying that they are placed in the sky
to water the earth with showers. His lan£jua<re on
this subject is not so guarded as it ought to be. In
physiology, which inquires into the relations of
structure in the plant and animal, we look to ends :
it was in the very age in which Bacon lived, that
Harvey, finding that the valves in the veins opened
one way as if to let a liquid pass, but did not open
on the other, argued, on the principle of final cause,
that the blood must circulate in the franie. Still,
Bacon is so far right that it is not expedient to mix
the inquir}' into physical cause with the inquiry into
final. But Bacon takes Final Cause from Physics,
simply to carry it up to a higher region and allot it
to Metaphysics, which lift us to Theology, to God
and Providence, by Formal and Final Causes. In
his own graphic way he likens final causes to the ves-
tal virgins, barren of fruit, but consecrated to God.*
Just as there is, and should be, an inquiry into
Etlicient Cause, so there may be, so should there
be, an inquiry into Final Cause. The Final Cause
is often more obvious tlian the Efficient. The end
of the eye and of the ear, which is to enable us to
see and to hear, presses itself more on our notice
than the physical agencies which have produced
these complicated organs.
We see now the importance and the application
of the two preliminary points laid down in my first
lecture. We see that because we have discovered
a physical cause, we are not precluded from an
* De Augmentis Scientiaruin, iii. 4.
8o NATURAL THEOLOGT.
inquiry into final cause. When we discover that a
telescope works by the laws of mechanism and of
light, we are not to be kept from noticing the design
of the instrument, which is to aid the eye in giving
us a view of remote objects. Mr. Darwin has
thrown out the idea that the eye, as found in the
higher animals (such as the eagle), may have been
formed on the principle of natural selection, in the
course of millions of ages, from the simple appara-
tus — found in lower creatures — of an optic nerve
coated with pigment. Such a theory appears to
many to be far-fetched and wire-drawn. He
acknowledges that in such a case he cannot point
out the transitional grades. But suppose that he
could establish his hypothesis, we should still see
the necessity of calling in a number of adaptations
to account for the wonderful and complicated result.
We should first have to presuppose a nerve sen-
sitive to lio-ht. On this, all that he has to remark
is, " How a nerve comes to be sensitive to light
hardly concerns us more than how life itself first
originated." * And all I have to remark is, that
Mr. Darwin, in accounting for so many phenomena
by natural law, does not so much as attempt to
account for the origin of life, or of nerve force.
And then, secondly, we must see the adaptations
which have secured that substances should attach
themselves to the nerve till it becomes the beautiful
mechanism of the eye of the higher animals and
of man. And finally we have not to overlook the
* Origin of Species, chap. vi.
PHYSICAL AND FINAL CAUSE. 8 1
most wonderful fact of all, that this structure enables
the animal to see. In like manner, when we have
traced the formation of the animal frame to cer-
tain powers, mechanical, chemical, and vital, — or
because we suppose we have resolved the vital
power into the chemical, and the chemical into
the mechanical, — this should not prevent us from
looking at the obvious purpose served by the eye,
the ear, and every organ of the body. So, should
it be found that the elevation of species proceeds
from the laws of heredity — it may be from the law
of selection — this would not even tend to lessen the
force of the argument from design. We see, too,
the importance of the other preliminar}' point, that
because we are unacquainted with the precise nature
of the forces in operation we are not tliereby to be
precluded from discovering a purpose. The work-
man may be very imperfectly acquainted with the
agencies employed in his factory, but he is sure
that there are method and design in the machine
which turns out such products. I believe that the
most profound physiologist has penetrated but a very
little wa\' into the secret machinery of the life of
the individual plant and animal, and still less into
the agencies which produce one plant or animal
from another ; and less still into the powers, what-
ever they be, which made organisms progress from
one geologic age to another. But he has only to
open his eyes, and allow his intellect to follow its
spontaneous course, to discover that in every organ
of the animated being, and in the development of
4*
82 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
the organic being, there is an end to accompHsh,
and a means to accompHsh it.
But it will be necessary, at this place, to answer
some of the objections brought by this school against
the doctrine of discoverable ends in nature. These
objections have no novelty in them. They have
been answered, at least in substance, a hundred
times ; but they require to be answered once more,
since they continue to be urged.
There are physiologists who would blunt the
edge of the argument, by saying that the organ,
which suits the exigencies of the animal so nicely,
is only the " condition of the existence " of the
animal. I do not object to this language ; which is
said to have been introduced by Cuvier, so fond of
discoverinjj final cause. Our ar";ument is draw^n
from the very circumstance that so many and such
complicated conditions should meet to supply the
w^ants, and promote the comfort, and, it may be,
the beauty and utility, of the living creature.
It is asserted that in many cases we cannot see the
end contemplated. The reply is not far to seek. In
order to discover design in a structure, it is not neces-
sary that we should be able to declare the meaning
of every part of it. The soldier may see enough to
convince him that there is plan in bringing so many
men together to form that powerful army, and skill
in conducting that successful campaign, though he
be not able to fathom all the intentions of tlie com-
mander, or discover why this regiment is required
to move in this rather than in that direction. We
OBJECTIONS TO FINAL CAUSE. S3
ma}' be able reverently to discover purposes in
God's works, without pretending to be able to find
out what God doeth from the beginning to the end.
"To the hypothesis of special creations," says
Mr. Herbert Spencer,* " a difficulty is presented by
the absence of high forms of life during those
innumerable epochs of the earth's existence which
geology records. But to the hypothesis of evolution
this absence is no such obstacle. Suppose evolu-
tion, and this question is necessarily excluded.
Suppose special creations, and this question (un-
avoidably raised) can have no satisfactory answer."
I am not at present standing up either for or against
special creations ; but surely the facts referred to
have no bearing, real or apparent, in opposition
to the doctrine of final cause. Whether it has been
by special creation or by evolution, there are plan
and purpose visible in the number and variety of
animated beings ; in all God's creatures, even the
lowest, enjoying life ; and in the lower creatures
rising to the higher.
Mr. Lewes urges that the circumstance that so
many of the seeds floating in the air and water never
germinate into plants and animals, is an evidence
of failure, and is inconsistent with final cause. f
But may it not be the very purpose of God, by
the superabundance of germs, to secure that there
should be living beings everywhere (in every hole
and crann}) enjoying life or nourishing lite? We
know, too, that many of these superfluous (as they
* Prill, of Biol. P. iii. c 3. f Fraser's Magazine. Oct. 1867.
84 NATURAL THEOLOGr.
may seem) seeds are the provided nutriment for liv-
ing creatures. We also know that, in this world of
ours, no power is lost ; and the seeds which do not
rise into animated beings go back into the great
ocean of life, out of which other creatures may rise.
All analogy leads us to believe that there is not an
atom or germ in our world but serves some purpose,
whether we are able to discover it or not.
Mr. Wallace maintains that, if the doctrine of
final cause holds good, " there ought to be no natural
objects which are disagreeable or ungraceful in our
eyes. And it is undoubtedly the fact that there are
man}^ such. Just as surely as the horse and deer
are beautiful and graceful, the elephant, rhinoce-
ros, hippopotamus and camel are the reverse."*
To this I reply, in the first place, that, according
to the principle of final cause, God is not bound to
make every creature beautiful. He has scattered
beauty all around us, in eai'th and sky, in plant and
animal, in man and woman ; but it is not necessary
for our happiness and comfort that he should impart
to every object qualities which are fitted to raise
excited £esthetic feeling. For, secondly, it is not
reckoned the highest taste to have every part of a
scene characterized by sublimity or beauty. In
historical painting, the grand figures are made to
stand out from plain neutral colors. And, once
more, God contemplates, in all his works, higher
ends than the gratification of assthetic taste ; and
we are not to expect him to sacrifice utility to grace
* Natural Selection, viii.
OBJECTIONS TO FINAL CAUSE. 85
or ornament. To apply these principles to only-
one of his examples : No one would say that the
camel is as beautiful as the horse or the deer ; yet
no one who has true taste will say that it is ugly.
The camel is an object of interest to every thinking
mind, and has even a sort of beauty, as it is seen
performing its beneficent ends in its native clime.
It has been shown that what may seem to be de-
formities enable it the better to fulfil the good ends
of its existence. The enlarg-ement of its leet, with
their convex soles, allows it to tread easily on the
loose yielding sand of the desert ; and the callosi-
ties, or pads, upon its legs allow it to lie down and
repose on scorching surfaces. And these humps
are supplies of superabundant nourishment provided
for their long journeys : so that, when deprived of
other food, their frames feed on this nutriment;
and it has been observed that, at the close of a long
journey, their humps have been much diminished
in size. Every organ has thus a purpose, though
that may not be the production of beauty.
Mr. Spencer appeals to a profounder series of
facts, which seem to show that there are provisions
in nature which seem to produce evil, instead of
good. " Still more marked is this contrast between
the two hypotheses, in presence of that vast amount
of suffering entailed on all orders of sentient beings
by their imperfect adaptations to their conditions
of life, and the further vast amount of suffering
entailed on them by enemies and by parasites. We
saw that, if the organisms were severally designed
86 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
for their respective places in nature, the inevita-
ble conclusion is, that these thousands of kinds
ot inferior organisms, which prey upon superior
organisms, were intended to inflict all the pain
and mortality which results. But the hypothesis
of evolution involves us in no such dilemma.
Slowly, but surely, evolution brings about an in-
creasing amount of happiness, all evils being
incidental." * I acknowledge that Mr. Spencer has
here come in sight of a mystery, which our mere
academic theists are unwilling to look at, — the
profound mystery of the existence of pain and evil
in our world. It brings us back to that old contest
which, we have seen, has characterized our world
from the beginning. Religion cannot dispel that
cloud, but it so far irradiates it. These groan-
ings and travailings of the old world seem but an
anticipation of the grand battle between ignorance
and light, between sin and salvation, in the pres-
ent era of our earth's history. f We who have risen
to a belief in the existence and in the benevolence
of God can cherish the reasonable conviction that
" what we know not now we shall know hereafter ; "
* Principles of Biologj, P. iii. 3.
t In answering a like objection brought by Mr. Lewes, I find
tlie thoughtful comparative anatomist of the age, Professor
Owen, remarking: "True it is, this is a world of pain as well as
of pleasure, wherein I may ask Positivism leave to say, ' God
works by means.' Patience, endurance, faith in the end designed,
a nature purified as by fire, accepting the trial with thanks-
giving, — these be facts visible amongst the higher recognizable
phenomena oflered to our pondering here below." — Fraser's
Magazine, Oct. 1S67.
OByECTIONS TO FINAL CAUSE. 87
that there has been all along goodness in what
has occurred ; and that the good shall at last utterly
destroy the evil. But what can they make of it
who believe in no God, and who can see no trace
of his goodness in nature? What can they make
of those convulsions of nature which have swept
away so many animated creatures, so man}- human
beings apparently in the midst of torture, — though,
in the case of the lower animals, with less pain
than we suppose? What are they to make of pain
and sorrows and bereavements when they come upon
themselves? Not only can they see no meaning,
they have no ground for believing that there is a
meaning. They come they know not whence ; they
tend they know not whither. There is no Father's
love in them for the present, and where they may
end they cannot tell. Mr. Spencer refers us,
as if to comfort us, to the hypothesis of evolution :
"Slowl}-, but surely, evolution brings about an
increasing amount of happiness, all evils being
incidental." Would this give comfort to the widow
grieving over the separation from a husband, to
the father deprived of an only son, to the tender
woman racked for years with pain? Would it
compose their grief to tell them that, fifty millions
of years hence, things by rubbing would be so
adapted to each other that there might be no more
pain or sorrow ; being obliged to add, if they told
the whole truth, that in fil\v millions more the whole
race of animated creatures would be, slowly but
surely, burnt up in fire? Would they not, as we
88 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
urged this consolation, say in reply : "Miserable
comforters are ye all ! — Ye are all physicians of no
value"? I do believe that the evolution which we
actuallv see in the world is so beneticentlv arranii^ed
that all the evils are incidental, and that there is an
•ever-increasing amount of happiness ; but it is
because it has been arranged by a good God.
Without this, evolution might work an ever-
increasing amount of misery, and direst evils be
the direct consequence. Mr. Spencer is ever
telling us, in his usual dogmatic manner and his
customary generalizing flights, that the operation
of evolution and physical law must be beneficial.
But I see no necessity for this : I can find no
security for it. If the powers at work be blind
forces, they may as readily produce destruction as
beneficent construction, and would probably pro-
duce now the one and now the other. True, if
they be modes of God's action, the issue must be
beneficent ; for there is intelligence in them and
benevolence in them.
It thus appears, as the result of our lengthened
induction, that in the midst of the potencies of
nature there is a Divine power controlling and guid-
ing them to ends ; and bringing order, I do not say
out of confusion, for there is no proof that there
ever was confusion in God's universe, — chaos is a
creation of heathenism, and was never seen in the
actual w^orld, — but producing order w here there
might have been confusion, and making a Cosmos
where there miijht have been a chaos.
APPEARANCE OF NEW AGENCIES. 89
(2.) There is the appearance ever and anon of
New Agencies. We may allow that there were me-
chanical, gravitating, and it may be chemical prop-
erties in the original star dust. But, superinduced
on these, there are new powers. Life appears ; plants
appear ; animals appear ; new species of plants and
animals appear ; and man appears with his high
capacities. It is easy for flippant minds to talk of
all this being effected by natural forces ; but the
forces which could accomplish this have not yet
been exposed to our view. It may seem profound
wisdom to represent all this as produced by develop-
ment, but development of itself implies a complex
process of which we do not know the elements. The
chemist cannot produce one of these agents in his
laboratory, except out of agents already possessing
them ; and the widest observation in space and time
has not detected nature accomplishing any such
feat. The truly scientific man will not dogmatize as
to how these agents were introduced, for he has no
light from observation to guide him. The religious
man, as he has no revelation to instruct him, has no
right to say they are the result of a special fiat or
of the arrangement of old materials, except indeed
in the case of man, whose soul was breathed into
him by the inspiration of the Almighty. That there
has been law — that is, order — in the appearance
of these new agents is very evident ; but what were
the means, if means there were, is unknown to us.
Let us not assert where we have no evidence. But
let us declare, for we have evidence, that God is
90 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
to be seen in these new appearances, whether we
trace them to an immediate creation or a preordained
arrangement.
(3.) There is proof of Plan in the Organic Unity
and Growth of the World. As there is evidence of
purpose, not only in every organ of the plant, but
in the whole plant ; not only in every limb of the
animal, but in the whole animal frame, and in the
growth of both plant and animal from month to
month and year to year : so there are proofs of
design, not merely in the individual plant and indi-
vidual animal, but in the whole structure of the
Cosmos and in the manner in which it makes prog-
ress from age to age. Every reflecting mind, in
tracing the development of the plant or animal, will
see a design and a unity of design in it, in the
unconscious elements being all made to conspire to
a given end, in the frame of the animated being
taking a predetermined form ; so every one trained
in the great truths of advanced science should see
a contemplated purpose in the way in which the
materials and forces and life of the universe are
made to conspire, to secure a progress through inde-
terminate ages. The persistence of force may be
one of the elements conspiring to this end ; the law
of Natural Selection may be another, or it may
only be a modification of the same : all and each
work in the midst of a struggle for existence, in
which the strong prevail and the weak disappear.
But in all this there is a starting point and a ter-
minus, and rails along which the powers run, and
UNITY OF THE WORLD. 9I
an intelligence planning and guiding the whole,
and bringing it to its destination freighted with
blessings.
The accomplishment of all this implies arrange-
ment and co-agency. There are order and pro-
gression, we have seen, in the physical works of
God : this is said, in modern nomenclature, to be a
law. A law of what? Is it a law in the Divine
mind? Yes : it is a law there before it appears as a
law in nature. It is a rule of the Divine procedure.
But is it not also a law of nature ? It certainly is
so in the loose acceptation of the word lazv now
adopted. But in what sense? Certainly not in the
sense of a simple, self-acting property, but in a
widely different sense, — in the senseof a generalized
fact or co-ordination of facts.* But all such laws
are complex : they result from the co-ordination and
* Dr. Chalmers drew the distinction between the Laws of
Matter and the Collocations of Matter, and drew the argument
from design chiefly from the Collocations of Matter. I have
shown that in General Laws collocations, or mutual adaptations,
are always implied. " So far from general laws being able, as
superficial thinkers imagine, to produce the beautiful adaptations
which are so numerous in nature, the}' are themselves the results
of nicely balanced and skilful adjustments. So far from being
simple, they are the product of many arrangements; just as the
hum which comes froin a city, and which may seem a simple
soimd, is the joint effect of manj' blended voices; just as the
musical note is the effect of numerous vibrations; as the curi-
ous circular atoU-reefs met with in the South Seas are the
product of millions of insects. So far from being independ-
ent principles, they are dependent on many other principles.
They are not agencies, but ends contemplated by Him who
adjusted the physical agencies which produced them. As such,
92 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
adaptation of an immense body of agencies, just as
the keeping of time by the chronometer results from
an assortment of divers instruments, such as the
mainspring and attached machinery. The revolu-
tion, for instance, of the earth round the sun is not
a property either of the earth or of the sun, but of
a combination of a centripetal and centrifugal force,
and of the relation of the two bodies to each other.
The law followed by the plant when it springs from
the seed, grows and bears seed, is still more com-
plex, employing a greater number of powers and
adaptations of particles one to another, and of grav-
itating, chemical, electric, and vital agents. But
the law of the progression of all plants and of all
animals is a still more complex one, implying
adjustment upon adjustment of all the elements and
all the powers of nature towards the accomplish-
ment of an evidently contemplated end, in which are
displayed the highest wisdom and the most consid-
erate goodness.
(4.) We see Higher and Higher Products appear-
ing, and manifesting higher perfections of God.
The blind Forces are made to work out Ideas
in the Platonic Sense. The Mundus Sensibilis
becomes a Mundus Intelligibilis, taking forms with
geometric proportions and of aesthetic beauty, and
clothed with melodious and harmonious colors.
they become the rules of God's house, the laws of his king-
dom; and wherever we see such laws, there we see the certain
traces of a law-giver." — Method of Divine Government^ B. 11.
c. i.§3-
HIGHER PRODUCTS APPEARING.
93
Sensation and feeling now appear ; and there is a
wondertul structure and adaptation ot" limb and
joint and nerve to turnish means of activity and of
enjoyment, which in the whole animal creation
become great beyond calculation. We now see
that this intelligent is also a benevolent power.
Crowning all, we have Mind and the Law written
in the heart, and declaring that right is above
might ; and we have the good advancing in the
midst of opposition, and in the face of opposition,
asserting that it will at last subdue all to itself, and
rule in the name of God. And we now see what
God reckons the highest of all, — higher than order,
higher than intelligence, higher than sensation ;
and this is holiness, — a holiness not independent
of intelligence, but a holy intelligence ; not inde-
pendent of love, but a holy love. God is the same
in all time ; but, as the ages roll on, they unfold
higher and ever higher perfections. These three —
the Power, the Intelligence, the Benevolence — are
seen combining to form the pure white light of
holy love. " God is a Spirit," " God is Light," and
" God is Love." These are the stars which have
emerged from the star dust to form One Grand
Central Sun of pure and dazzling brightness, which
we cannot open our eyes without seeing, but which,
as we would gaze upon it, causes them to close in
awe and adoration.
(5.) The journey we have taken, and the height
we have reached, open glimpses of the Future His-
tory of our World. We see everywhere signs of
94 NATURAL THEOLOG2'.
progress. There is progress in agriculture, there
is progress in the arts, there is progress in all the
sciences ; man's dominion over nature is rapidly
increasing, and the earth, every succeeding year,
is made to yield a greater produce. The fruit of
the discoveries of one age contains the germ of the
discoveries of the generation following ; and the
new plant springs alongside of the old one to scat-
ter seed like its progenitor all around. No valuable
invention of human genius is ever lost; and most
of them become the means of multiplying them-
selves by a greater than compound proportion,
and thus render each generation richer than the
one that went before. The wealth of all preced-
ing generations is thus to be poured into the lap
of the generations that are to live in the coming
ages of our world's history. The struggle for
existence still goes on ; but there is evidence
that the intellectual is to show itself stronjier than
the physical and the moral, always under the
government of God, stronger than either. For
the present, we see the serpent biting the heel
of the seed of the woman : but the age of serpents,
with their crushing force and their cunning, is to
pass away ; and we see proof that the woman's
heaven-born seed is to crush the head of the ser-
pent ; and, as Plato forecast it, the good shall be
the uppermost, and the evil the undermost, for
evermore.
I do not knov/ whether any of my hearers have
ever gone up from Riffelberg to Corner Grat, in the
FUTURE OF THE WORLD. 95
High Alps, to behold the sun rise. Every moun-
tain catches the light according to the height which
the upheaving forces that God set in motion have
given it. First the point of Monte Rosa is kissed
by the morning beams, blushes for a moment, and
forthwith stands clear in the light. Then the
Breithorn and the dome of Muschabel and the Mat-
terhorn, and twenty other grand mountains, embrac-
ing the distant Jung Frau, receive each in its
turn the gladdening rays, bask each for a briet
space, and then remain bathed in sunlight. Mean-
while, tlie valleys between lie down dark and dis-
mal as death. But the light which has risen is the
light of the morning ; and these shadows are even
now lessening, and we are sure they will soon
altogether vanish. Such is the hopeful view I
take of our world. "Darkness covered the earth,
and gross darkness the people ; " but God's light
hath broken forth as the morning, and to them who
sat in darkness a great light has arisen. Already
I see favored spots illuminated by it : Great Britain
and her spreading colonies ; and Prussia, extend-
ing her influence ; and the United States, with her
broad ten'itory and her rapidly increasing popula-
tion,— stand in the light ; and I see, not twenty, but
a hundred points of light, striking up in our scat-
tered mission stations, — in old continents and
secluded isles and barren deserts, according as
God's grace and man's heaven-kindled love have
favored them. And much as I was enraptured
with that grand Alpine scene, and shouted irrepres-
g6 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
sibly as I surveyed it, I am still more elevated, and
I feel as if I could cry aloud for joy, when I hear
of the light advancing from point to point, and
penetrating deeper and deeper into the darkness
which, we are sure, is at last to be dispelled, to
allow our earth to stand clear in the light of the
Sun of Righteousness.
IV.
Proof of the Existence of Mind and of its possessing
THE Capacity of Knowledge. — Doctrines of Nes-
cience and Relativity.
THROUGHOUT the previous discussions I
have been constantly obliged to employ or to
refer to philosophic principles. In the full exposi-
tion of the argument, it will be necessary to con-
sider these, as well as the physical facts, that the
defence may be complete throughout. But this
implies that we take a look at the soul of man.
Not that we are to examine the mind in its entirety ;
not that we are to dissect it metaphysically : we
are to view it simply in its relation to God and to
reli<'-ion. Some of the discussions on which I am
to enter may seem a little too recondite ; but all of
them bear upon the prevailing errors of the day.
I profess to keep a sharp outlook on the current of
opinion all over the world, especially among young
men. I am ever asking the watchman, "What of
the night?" and, in these Lectures, I take up the
topics of the day ; but it would be better not to dis-
cuss them at all than not discuss them thoroughly.
In coming Lectures, I will start from the posidons
S
pS NATURAL THEOLOGY.
reached in this to examine Positivism and Material-
ism, — the doctrines hkely to flourish for a season
among the young men who catch the spirit of the
age in its latest fashion.
Those whom I am opposing constitute a school
with a diversity of teachers. Though, as a whole,
they are men of narrow sympathies and an exclusive
temper, and can discern only a small segment of
the wide and profound meaning of the universe, —
are, in fact, not catholic nor cosmopolitan, but in-
tensely sectarian in their spirit, — yet they cultivate
with zeal and ability a number of branches of
knowledge. Their physiology is associated with a
psychology and a philosophy, and, I may add, a
method of history. They have men of eminence
in each of these departments ; and each in his way
joins with others in their way in furthering a com-
mon cause and fostering a common belief, or rather
unbelief. They have some of the literary and
scientific institutions of Great Britain very much in
their own hands, and are seeking to find a place in
others. They are laboring to lay hold of young
men connected with the press, and have been
specially successful with two classes : with those
who would like to be thought philosophers, but who
have no time nor taste for the study of a deeper
philosophy ; and with those who, in a feeling of
disappointment, liavc been obliged to turn aside
from their intended professions in life — most com-
monly the church — to engage in literary pursuits.
They have a body of adherents eager to propagate
AIM OF THE POSITIVE SCHOOL. 99
their system, and ever ready to make an assault on
all who would inculcate a philosophy of a higher
and more spiritual character.
There is a unity in their system and in their ends.
They aim at accounting for the Vv'hole of nature
by development out of they know not what. They
derive man from the brutes, and make him merely
an upper brute. They do not deny the existence
of the soul ; but they identify it with the body. All
the higher ideas of man they manufacture, by
means of association of ideas, out of impressions got
by the senses and an inward sentient experience,
and by development from the lower races of hu-
manity and the ancestral animals through millions
of ages. History is a mere evolution of natural
causes, working without any discoverable meaning
or end. The lower animals and the plants come
out of the protoplasm, and the protoplasm out of
the star dust, and the star dust out of they know
not what, — out of what never can be known, and
about which, therefore, it is unphilosophical to
inquire. They all agree that of the nature and
reality of things we know nothing, and can know
nothing. All that we know is represented as
Relative; that is, we can know any one thing
merely in relation to some other one thing, itself
unknown. They are determinedly agreed that we
can discover no indications of first or final causes ;
that the supernatural, if there be a supernatural,
must lie in a region beyond human ken ; and that
reliirion has no title to excite a fear or kindle a
lOO NATURAL THEOLOGi:
hope. A young friend of mine, who had to sit
from day to day, through a college session, under
a distinguished professor belonging to this school,
told me that, at the close of every lecture, he had
to debate with himself the question : " Have or have
I not a soul? " " Am I a reality? " or, '" Is there any
reality?" As having to withstand the assaults of
these men who profess to go down so deep, we
must see that our foundations are well laid.
I. And so the question is started, What
PROOF HAVE WE OF THE EXISTENCE OF MiND?
It is necessary to take up such an elementary ques-
tion as this in our day, to meet the advancing
materialism which is springing out of the decay
(as they suppose) of all old creeds, philosophical
and theological. A materialism, refined, iesthetical,
but sensualistic, has been the reigning philosophy
(if philosophy it can be called) in France, under
_that repression of free thought, ever bursting out
in secret license, which characterized the regime
of Louis Napoleon. It has considerable power
among phN'sicists in Germany ; being the hollow,
in this age, on the back of the height which think-
ers occupied in the last age (it is, in fact, the bog
into which the will-a-wisp Hegelianism has con-
ducted not a few of those who followed it) , — my
hope is that it will be so far counteracted by the
glorious outburst of patriotism which the present
war has called forth, and which has been fond of
recognizing a providence. It is the issue — whether
they see it or no, whether they mean it or no — to
WE KNOW SELF IMMEDIATELY'. lOI
which iMill's association theory, and Bain's identifi-
cation of all our thoughts and feelings with the
body, and Mr. Herbert Spencer's development of
all things out of an unknowable nothing, and Hux-
ley's physical basis of life and mind in molecular
action, are severally and conjointly conducting the
young thinkers of Great Britain. The sun rises
some hours later iu America than in Europe ; and
doctrines which have sprung up in Deutschland,
and come across to Enrjland, like a foff from the
German Ocean, take some little time to cross the
Atlantic ; but already we see proof that we are on
the eve of a conflict with a physico-philosophy,
which would account for all mental action and ideas
by molecular motion, or some form of material
agency. To meet it, we lay down a few simple
positions.
I. Man has means of knozving the existence of
mind as iuiniediate as the means of knowing the
existence of matter. — It is necessary to make this
remark, because it is often said that man can know
directly only his own bodily frame and the objects
falling under his senses, - and can arrive at the
knowledge of mind — if, indeed, there be a mind,
and if he can come to be certain of its existence —
only by a circuitous process. It is supposed that he
comes first to know the existence of his material
organism ; and that, proceeding upon this, he con-
cludes that there is or may be a spiritual principle,
as it were lying deeper in than the visible and
tangible frame. According to tiiis view, our knowl-
I02 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
edfre of the existence of mind is reached bv a
process of inference, and there are persons who
dispute its legitimacy. They tell us that, as physi-
ology is advancing in its researches, mind is retiring
farther and farther back ; and not a few are cherish-
ing the expectation that, in the course of time, they
may be delivered from it altogether ; and that they
ma}'^ account for every exercise of thought and feel-
ing by mechanical and chemical processes, by elec-
tric and nervous agency. Now, I meet all these
objections by denying that it is by any such length-
ened or circuitous process that we come to discover
the existence of mind. I affirm that we know mind,
just as we know matter, directly and immediate!}'.
We can, in a sense, experiment upon the mind,
in order to discover its working. We set out from
our dwelling into the heart of a pleasant scene of
hills and vales, and trees and streams. It is not
by a perplexing process of reasoning that we believe
this oak and that rock to exist : we have an intui-
tive and immediate knowledge of them by the
senses. While we look at these objects, we are
conscious that we do so ; w^e are conscious, intui-
tively and immediately conscious, of a self different
from the scene w^e are contemplating. While we
behold the objects, we are led to form certain judg-
ments resfardiniT them : this hill is hiijher than this
other hill ; this tree is a pine and this other a maple ;
this stream is pure and flowing rapidly. While we
thus judge and reason about these objects, we are
conscious of a self tliat is doing so. While we are
COA'SC/OC/SiVBSS OF SELF. luj
enjoying the scene, we see a company of children
phiying on the bank of the river, and they seem so
happy that we rejoice in their joy, and are as con-
scious of our joy as we are of their existence. But,
unexpectedly, two of the boys begin to quarrel ; and
the stronger knocks the other into the water, and
the stream is bearing him along, apparently, to
destruction. We are forthwith tilled with horror
and indignation at the deed ; we feel ourselves
reprobating the conduct of the violent youth ; and,
feeling pity for the boy who is sinking in the waters,
we rush into the stream in the hope of rescuing
him. We are as certain that there is a something
perceiving the scene, as that there is a scene per-
ceived ; that there is a mind comparing the hills,
trees, and streams, as that there are hills, trees,
and streams to be compared ; that there is a soul
reprobating the passionate bo}^ as that there is a
bo}' to be reprobated ; that we have not more con-
vincing evidence that there is a boy drowning in
the river, than we have of the other fact that we are
cherishing compassion towards him ; and we are
not more assured that the child is in danger, than
we are that we have resolved to rescue him. And
let us observe, carefully, how much is implied in
what we have thus felt as passing through our minds :
we are conscious of a self performing a great num-
ber and variety of acts, as perceiving, judging,
reasoning, distinguishing between good and evil,
as under the influence of deep emotion, as willing
and fulfining our determinations. It follows: —
I04 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
2. That we have a ■positive though limited
knowledge of mind^ even as we have a positive
though limited knozulcdge of body. There are
eminent metaphysicians, among whom we may
reckon Kant, who maintain that we can know
nothing of matter, except that it exists : matter is
described as the unknown something producing the
impressions which we feel in our minds. Now,
with all deference to the distinguished men who
have held this dogma, I believe it to be utterly
inconsistent with the intuitive declarations of con-
sciousness. Man is possessed of a power or attri-
bute, by which he knows, I believe, immediately,
the objects by which he is surrounded. He knows
matter as extended in length, breadth, and depth,
and as exercising certain active properties, as mov-
ing or striking other objects, or as being repelled.
In all this, it is true, he is far from knowing all
about matter : matter may have properties which
are latent, — latent, inasmuch as we have never
seen them exercised ; or latent, inasmuch as we
may never be able to discover them ; but still he
has a knowledge, limited, no doubt, but positive
and trustworthy so far as it goes. I have referred
to this error at the one extreme, only that I may be
able the better to expose an error at the other
extreme. A living writer says that the only method
by which mind can be defined as a substance is,
" by taking the realities of which we have expe-
rience, and abstracting one property after another,
until we have an entity without extension, with-
WB HAVE A KNOWLEDGE OF MIND. 105
out resistance, without parts, without divisibihty,"
&c. Now, it appears to me, we might with as much
propriety declare that we could not define matter
except as an entity, without consciousness, without
thought, without will. Just as we define matter
by positives as extended, as possessed of attrac-
tion and other properties ; so we may define mind
by positive qualities, all of them known to us,
because we have constant experience of them.
We may define it as possessing consciousness,
intelligence, conscience, emotion, will. The fact
is, that, being immediately conscious of mind and
its varied actings from hour to hour, and minute
to minute, we know more of mind than we know
of matter. True, we do not possess a perfect knowl-
edge of man's mental, any more than of his corpo-
real, nature. We do not know and cannot be
expected to know it, as the God who made it
knows it: still we have in consciousness a means,
and this an immediate means, of knowing so much
of its nature and properties, as thinking, feeling,
desiring, willing.
3. As matter cannot be resolved into mind on the
one hand, so mind cannot be resolved into matter
on the other. There have been attempts made by
ingenious metaphysicians, as by Bishop Berkeley
and by Fichte, so to refine matter as to leave little
but the name : it is represented either as an idea
created by the Divine Mind, to be viewed by the
created mind, or as a projection of the human
mind itself. There is also a school of physical
Io6 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
speculators in the present day, who are seeking to
spiritualize matter by stripping it of some of its dis-
tinguishing properties, such as its extension or its
occupation of space. With them matter is merely
a name for certain powers, mechanical, chemical,
or electric, which are supposed to produce all the
phenomena falling under the senses. This refined
view of body, though supported by names of repute,
seems to be inconsistent with that immediate and
intuitive knowledge which we possess of it, as not
only exercising dynamical powers, but as extended
and solid. But while opposing all attempts to resolve
matter into mind, I would also set myself against
the attempt to resolve mind into matter. By our
primitive cognitions, we know matter as extended,
solid, divisible, and exercising such qualities as
attraction and repulsion ; but we also know self as
perceiving, judging, reasoning, devising, hating,
fearing, loving.
To those who would aver that mind may be merely
a modification of matter, I reply, Ji^'st, that the two
are made known to us by different organs : we know
the one, matter, by the senses ; we know the other,
mind, by self-consciousness. No man ever saw a
thought, touched an emotion, or heard a volition.
Nor are we conscious, within the thinking mind, of
space occupied, or hardness, or color. We reply,
secondly^ and more particularly, that we know them
as possessed of essentially different properties : we
know the one as occupying space and exercising cer-
tain attractive powers ; whereas we know the other
MIND AND BOD 2' DIFFERENT. 107
as capable of judgment, purpose, and aflection. If
any one will maintain that, notwithstanding these
differences, the two can be reduced to one, the bur-
den of proof lies upon him. And I have never
found the materialist advancing any evidence which
can stand a sifting scrutiny. He has not demon-
strated, and I believe it is impossible for him to
demonstrate, that any modification of mere matter —
be it electric, nervous, or whatever else — can yield
those peculiar phenomena of which we are con-
scious in the thinking and feeling mind ; can give
intelligence and choice, and the perception of the
distinction between good and evil ; or those lofty
affections and heroic resolutions which constitute the
noblest characteristics of humanity.
I have never found those materialists who profess
to explain mental action by material forces so much
as having a clear idea of the thing to be explained.
The physiologist may, by the study of the nerves
and brain, come to know what the nerves and brain
are, and has shown that they are soft, pulp}^ sub-
stances, with a certain chemical composition. He
has tried to show that electricity will explain all the
properties of the nerves, and in this he has hitherto
been unsuccessful ; for while electricity travels along
a tied nerve, the nervous fluid does not. But though
he should be successful, he would not thereby en-
lighten us on the subject of intellect or volition :
he might show under what phj'siological conditions
they arise, but would not tiiereby throw liglit on the
intellect and volition themselves. Let us suppose
Io8 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
that an electric force runs along a pulpy substance,
the nerve, till it reaches another pulpy substance, the
brain, still we have not thereby explained that essen-
tially different phenomenon which we call thought.,
or that other phenomenon which we call zvill. An
electric force is one thing, and the ingenious thought
of Faraday in speculating on that force is an entirely
different thing. An affection of the pulpy substance,
the brain, is one thing ; and the determination of the
mind to resist temptation, the determination of Jo-
seph, for example, when he said, "Can I do this great
wickedness and sin against God?" is an entirely
different thing. To confound them is to confound
things which, so far from being the same, have not
even a common point of resemblance. The ph^'siol-
ogist can explain, in a curious manner at times, how
certain thoughts and feelings arise ; but after all he
has left the essential point untouched : he has not
explained, nay, he has not so much as attempted to
explain, thought itself, or volition, or emotion.
In a later Lecture we must subject Materialism to
a thorough examination. Meanwhile, I am estab-
lishing principles as a preparation for reviewing the
prevalent systems of the day. All that I have said
has been allowed clearly and unequivocally by
Professor Tyndall.* "The passage from the phys-
ics of the brain to the corresponding facts of con-
sciousness is unthinkable. Granted that a definite
thought and a definite molecular action in the brain
occur simultaneously, we do not possess the intel-
* Address before British Association, Aug. iS68.
TTNDALUS TESTIMON2'. 109
lectual organ, nor apparently any rudiment of the
organ, which would enable us to pass by a process
of reasoning from the one phenomenon to the other.
They appear together, but we do not know why.
Were our minds and senses so expanded, strength-
ened, and illuminated as to enable us to see and feel
the very molecules of the brain ; were we capable
of following all their motions, all their groupings,
all their electric discharges, if such there be, and
were we intimately connected with the correspond-
ing states of thought and feeling, — we should prob-
ably be as far as ever from the solution of the
problem, How are these physical processes con-
nected with the facts of consciousness? The chasm
between the two classes of phenomena would still
remain intellectually impassable. Let the conscious-
ness of love, lor example, be associated with a right-
handed spiral motion of the molecules of the brain,
and the consciousness of hate with a left-handed
spiral motion : we should then know when we love,
that the motion is in one direction, and when we hate,
the motion is in another direction ; but the Why
would still remain unanswered." I am not prepared
to accept all the phraseology employed in this pas-
sage about the phenomena being " associated " and
" appearing together," and about the " how " and
the " why." We shall show that mind obeys laws
of its own very different from those of matter. As
to the " how " and the " why," they are in the end
referred by this whole school to the region of the
unknowable, and they may assert that, though we
no NATURAL THEOLOGY.
cannot discover the "how" and the "why," after all
thinking may be material. But it is admitted that
we are conscious of thought and feeling, of love
and hate, and this is enough for my present purpose.
The consideration ^of the more subtle materialism
that might be consistent with Mr. Tyndall's state-
ment must be reserved to a future Lecture.
II. The next question is, What does the
Mind reveal to us? And, here, in order to set-
tle what realities we have, we must first be rid of
certain counterfeits. For we are met at this point
by ghosts, which have been walking abroad in the
darkness. I have been seeking for years past to
scare them awa}^ but have not succeeded, for there
are still persons believing in them and frightening
us with them ; and it is the law of the life of errors,
as it is the law of the life of ghosts, that, as long as
men believe in them, they will apnear : the demand
brings the supply ; the eye that is looking for them
will certainly see them.
I hold, very strenuously, that man is so consti-
tuted that he can attain knovv'ledge, that he can
know things. I maintain that man's intelligent
acts begin with his knowing things. By the
senses he knows tilings : his own bodily frame as
affected by all the senses ; a solid body by the
muscular sense, and a colored surface by the eye.
We also know things by self-consciousness, or
the inward sense : we know self as thinking, feel-
ing or willing — as at this moment pleased or not
pleased with this Lecture. I have studiously chosen
AMBIGUITY OF 'THING IN ITSELF." Ill
my words. In using them, I do not mean that we
know simply thinking, feeling, or willing : these
have no separate or independent existence, — have
no existence apart from self thinking, feeling, or
willing, — are in fact mere abstractions. What
we know is self thinking, feeling, willing ; not self
apart from these operations, but self in these opera-
tions. This may seem too nice a distinction ; but
it is the only expression which unfolds the full
truth. A man is not conscious of thinking apart
from self, any more than he is conscious of self
apart from thinking, or some other exercise. It
appears, then, that, both by the outward and the
inward sense, we begin with knowledge, with the
knowledge of things.
But I hear some one asking in astonishment,
Do you really mean to say that you know the
thing, — the thing in itself ? It is said of Scotchmen,
whether justly or not I will not take it upon myself
to say — for I am not altogether impartial in speak-
ing of Scotchmen — but, truly or falsely, it is
alleged of Scotchmen that, when asked a sharp
question, they are apt to put a sharp question in
return. I am inclined to use the Scotchman's privi-
lege on this occasion, and inquire, What do you
mean by a thing in itself f The phrase is a
German one, the translation of Ding an sich, so
frequently used by Kant, and with which so many
have been conjuring of late years. What a thing
means, I know ; and I hold that, in every exercise
of the senses, we know the thing, this body or that
112 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
body ; and that in every exercise of self-conscious-
ness we know the thing itself, that is, ourselves
in a particular state. But what is meant by the
thing in itself I do not know ; and, think it proper
not to affect to know. Does it mean that, besides
the thing we know, there is something else, — a
thing flus itself? This itself in addition to the
thing, I confess I do not know ; and, as knowing
nothing of it, I have no faith in its existence, and
I do not see any purpose to be served by it. If it
mean that the thing is within the thing, I have
about as clear a notion of what is signified as I
have of the whale that swallowed itself, or of the
Kilkenny cats which ate one another all but the
tails. Maintaining that we know the thing, I give
up the in itself to metaphysicians as a ghost to
be believed in, or not believed in, just as they
please.
But then it is declared, gravely and pompously,
by men who look as if they were possessed of all
wisdom, that we do not know things, but fhe-
itomena; that is, appearances. And if, by this, they
mean that we can know things only so far as they
manifest themselves to us, I admit it: it is a truth;
it is a truism. We know things only so far as they
appear unto us. A man without eyes cannot see ;
without hearing, cannot hear. But then it is the
things which manifest themselves unto us that we
know. An appearance without a thing appearing
is inconceivable, is an impossibility. Even a cloud
appearing has something, is something : it is moist-
MATTER AND MIND ARE SUBSTANCES. II3
lire in a vaporous state ; and, were we to enter it, it
would leave some of its sprinklings upon us. A
shadow, even, is a something : it implies a dense
body obstructing light, and keeping it from falling
on a defined surface. An image in a mirror is
something : it requires glass and quicksilver, and
ra3^s of light and an eye. In one of Longfellow's
works, there is a dispute as to whether the narcissus,
or its shadow reflected in the water, is the reality.
The dispute can be setUed. Both have a reality :
the one in a solid plant, the other in rays of light
coming from the plant and thence reflected. I admit
that we know phenomena, and only phenomena,
but this in the sense of things appearing.
But then it is said, Surely, you do not pretend
that you know matter and mind as sicbstances ?
Before replying, I have once more to insist that it
be explained what is meant by the phrase. Accord-
ing to Locke, and English metaphysicians, it means
something lying under, underneath, or behind the
thing known. Locke says, Hamilton says, that
this something is unknown and unknowable. Now,
I am prepared to give up this substance beneath
the thing, even as I gave up the in itself^ which
some place within the thing. This addition is sup-
posed to be a substratum or support. But I am
not sure that the thing, say mind or body, needs
any such support. I cannot see that this shadowy
thing, unknow^n and unknowable, cloud or abyss,
or pit or darkness, is fitted as a substratum to bear
up mind and body, which may require nothing else
114 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
to uphold them as a substratum, beyond the powers
with which God has endowed them.
But w hile I am ready to dispense with this under-
support, as an intermeddler which would separate
us from things, I maintain very resolutely that mind
and body are entitled, not by the aid of any thing
else, but of themselves, to be regarded as sub-
stances. And if some one pay me back in my own
coin, and ask me what I mean by substance, I am
prepared to answer. There are three things in-
volved in substance : First, it has being ; or, to speak
more plainly, the thing exists. Secondly, it has
potency ; that is, power to act. Thirdly, it has a
permanence, or a certain continuance and endur-
ance, — such an abiding nature that it is not created
by our looking at it ; nor does it cease to exist
because we have ceased to contemplate it. What-
ever possesses these three qualities, I call a sub-
stance. Both mind and matter are known as
possessing them. Mind, that is self, is known,
first, as having existence or being. We thus know
it in every act of self-consciousness. True, we
can say little about bare being or existence ; but
this not because we do not know it, but because it
is so simple. About complicated objects we can
say a great deal — for instance, about the Roman
empire, and modern civilization, and the constitu-
tion of the United States — because of their many
elements and relations. But we can say little of
such things as pain and pleasure and self, not be-
cause we do not know them, but because every one
CHARACTERISTICS OF SUBSTANCE. 115
knows them, and they cannot be made clearer by a
description : they involve no composition, and are
not made up of ingredients.
" Who thinks of asking if the sun is light,
Observing that it lightens?"
Those who attempt any thing more, and to peer
into the object, will find that the light (like that of
the sun) darkens as they gaze upon it. " When I
burned in desire to question them farther, they
made themselves — air, into which they vanished."
Again, we know mind as having potency or power ;
as influencing other things, and being influenced
by other things ; as exercising power over its own
thoughts and over the bodily frame. Once more :
I know it as so far permanent and independent that
it is not a mere momentary or ephemeral impres-
sion or idea ; it is not created by my looking at it ;
it existed prior to my observing it, and it was because
it did so, that I was able to observe it; and it does
not cease to exist because I have ceased to view
it. The mind (like the body) having these three
attributes, — being, potency, and permanence, — is
to be regarded as a substance.
It is necessary to establish these points ; for, ever
since the days of David Hume, and especially in
these davs of revived scepticism, the subtlest form
of infidelit}' proceeds on the denial of them. The
denial is defended by metaphysicists, and is eagerly
seized by physicists, who are no philosophers, but
who are anxious to have a philosophy to serve their
Il6 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
purpose. The whole school which I am opposing
are defenders of the
DOCTRINE OF NESCIENCE.
It is called Nescience, in so far as it holds that
man knows nothing, and can know nothing of the
nature of things ; and Nihilism, inasmuch as it
is averred that there can be nothing known. It is
acknowledged that we are cognizant of appear-
ances ; but then we do not and never can know
whether these correspond to realities. This doc-
trine is commonly attributed to M. Comte ; but the
true author of it is my countryman, David Hume.
Hume is commonly called the sceptic, and he did
not repudiate the name ; but the epithet scarcely
characterizes him. He did not profess to deny the
existence of God, or any thing else. He was evi-
dently painfully affected, when the French Ency-
clopedists claimed him as an atheist. When the
pert Mrs. Mallet came to him, and said : " We
deists ought to know one another," he replied
sternly (so differently from his usual good-nature) :
"Who told you that I was a deist?" His professed
aim was to show that man can never know any
thing of the nature of things, — can never reach
philosophic truth, certainly never theological truth.
Huxley very properly sets aside Comte as the
founder of this school of philosophy. "So far as I
am concerned, the most reverend prelate might
dialectically hew M. Comte in pieces as a modern
Agag, and I would not attempt to stay his hand.
DOCTRINE OF NESCIENCE. II7
In SO far as my study of what specially character-
izes the Positive Philosophy has led me, I find
therein little or nothing of any scientific value, and
a great deal which is thoroughly antagonistic to
the very essence of science as any thing in Ultra-
montane Catholicism." The secret truth is, that
the British followers of Comte do not like him ;
because, feeling that he himself and mankind gen-
erally need to have a faith and a worship, he busied
himself, in his later days, in constructing a religion
of his own, which is certainl}' sufficiently ludicrous,
but is after all a reproach on those who have no
religion. Mr. Huxley claims to install Hume as
the founder and head of the philosophy which he
adopts, and which I am inclined to call Humism.
Hume says : "All the perceptions of the human
mind resolve themselves into two distinct kinds of
impressions and ideas." * He begins with impres-
sions and ideas, — momentary impressions and
ideas, — and not with things, and he declares, very
properly, that out of these he can draw no realities.
I meet this by showing that the mind commences,
not with mere impressions and ideas, but with the
knowledge of things ; and on this primary knowl-
* "The difterence betwixt these consists in the degree of
force and liveliness with which they strike upon the mind, and
make their way into our thought or consciousness. Those per-
ceptions which enter with most force and violence we may name
impressions; and under this name I comprehend all our sensa-
tions, passions, and emotions, as they make their first appear
ance in the soul. By ideas, I mean the faint images of these in
tliinking and reasoning." — Opening of Treatise of Human
Nature.
Il8 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
edge it builds other and higher. And if I am
asked for the proof, I answer that I have the same
evidence of it as I have of the existence of impres-
sions and ideas. I never do know an impression,
except as an impression of self, the thing impressed ;
and, in doing so, I know both the impression and
the thing impressed. I am never conscious of an
idea except as an idea entertained by me. The
two ever go together ; and if I allow the existence
of the one, I must allow the existence of the other :
the one is as certain as the other ; the one has the
same self-evidence as the other. He who builds
on any other foundation is building, not on the
rock, not even on the sand, but on a surface of
waters, or in the fleeting clouds. He who adopts
the fundamental principle, that the mind does not
start with the knowledge of things, must take all
the rest. He must go through with it, even though
it should carry and leave him where it left Hume ;
that is, in inextricable thickets and sinking swamps,
in which he must wander on for ever, without com-
ing to a termination : taking now this road, and now
that road, to find them all "passages which lead
to nothing ; " beginning nowhere, and ending no-
where, crossing and recrossing, as the children of
Israel did in their wanderings, but with no Canaan
remaining for him as a place of rest.
DOCTRINE OF RELATIVITY.
Closely allied to this doctrine of Nescience,
springing out of it or leading to it, is that of
DOC TRINE OF R EL A TIVIT T. 119
the Relativity of Knowledge ; that is, that the mind
does not perceive things, but the relations of things,
of things utterly unknown. Grote thinks that this
w^as the doctrine of Protagoras, the old Greek
sophist, when he maintained that " man is the
measure of all things." Now, I do not reject
this doctrine because it was held by the sophists :
I reject it because it is sophistic in the expression
and defence of it. I reject it as so far untrue. I
am not bound to accept it because it has been held
by men whom I profoundly revere : such as Sir
William Hamilton, of Edinburgh ; Dr. Ulrici, of
Halle ; and Dr. Mansel, of Oxford. On Hamilton's
publishing the doctrine in his " Discussions on Phi-
losophy," I examined it in the Appendix to a new
edition of my work on the " Divine Government ; "
and Hamilton meant to reply, but was prevented by
infirmities terminating in his death. I labored to
show that it was not agreeable to consciousness,
and that it would certainly lead to fatal conse-
quences. I was one of the first to protest, which
I did in an article in the " North British Review "
(Feb. 1859), against Dr. Mansel's application of
the doctrine, in his famous Bampton Lectures on
the " Limits of Religious Thought," to the defence
of Religion, Natural and Revealed. Dr. Mansel
thought to employ it to undermine Rationalism ; but,
in doing so, he undermined as well the ground on
which religion stands — some one describes him as
going out with a scythe to cut off the legs of others,
and succeediniT in cuttine: otY his own legs. Mr.
I20 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
Mill, as we might expect, has accepted the doc-
trine, only complaining that Hamilton does not
carry it out consistently and consecutively. But
people did not see the consequences till Herbert
Spencer laid his whole system upon it as upon a
bottomless abyss. It is a principle adopted by the
whole school, and employed by them to undermine
all higher truth, philosophic and theological. We
have seen that Tyndall, when sore pressed with a
difficulty about life and mind coming out of the
incandescent star dust, seeks to extricate himself
by appealing to "the law of relativity, which plays
so important a part in modern philosophy."
The doctrine so designated takes as many shapes
as Proteus ; and when we would seize it in one form
it takes another, and so eludes our grasp. It has,
however, a true shape ; and, when it takes this, we
have only to commend it. There is a sense, or
rather there are senses, in which man's knowledge
is relative. First, he can know only so far as he
has a capacity of knowing. In this sense, man's
knowledge is all relative to himself. A man who
has no eyes cannot know color ; who has no ears
cannot know sounds. There is the farther truth
that man has the capacity of discovering relations
between himself and other things, and between one
thine: and another. There is a third doctrine which
is also true, that man's knowledge is finite : he can-
not know all things ; he cannot know all about any
one thing. Tliis, however, is not a doctrine of
relativity : it is the old doctrine of man's knowledge
DOCTRINE OF RELATIVITY. 1 21
being finite and not infinite, so earnestly inculcated
by the Fathers of the Church, and by the profbund-
est divines and philosophers of modern times. So
far we have truths, and truths of some importance,
though the phrase Relativity is scarcely the word
by which to express them.
But this solid truth is employed as a means of
gathering round it other and tenebrous matter, — as
the cuttle-fish, when we would catch it, surrounds
itself with inky darkness. The doctrine, as inter-
preted by its defenders, means that w^e know rela-
tions and not things; and, in the case of some, that
it is the mind that creates the relations, and that it
adds the relation out of its own stores. When it
can be made to take and to keep this shape, I seize
it at once. This doctrine must issue logically in
Nescience. Relations between things unknown can
never yield knowledge. But I condemn it, not for
its consequences, but because it is untrue, because
it is inconsistent with consciousness.
It is inconceivable that we should know^ relations
between things unknown. A relation is the aspect
of things towards each other : the Greeks desig-
nated it by TtQoq xu If the things were to cease, there
would be no relation ; and if the things were
unknown, there would be no relations know^n.
Gravitation is a relation of one body to another, say
between the sun and the earth ; but if there were
no sun and no earth, there would be no such rela-
tion, and if the sun and earth were unknown to
me, I could never know a relation between them.
6
122 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
A relation is a relation of things known, — so far
known, — known qtui that relation. We know that
we are related to our fellow-men, because we know
what we are, and what our fellow-men are. We
know in what relation we stand to God, because
we so far know God and know ourselves.
The settlement of these points wall be found to
have a more direct bearing than might at first appear
upon our argument. If man's soul be material, we
have really no ground on which to proceed in infer-
ring that there is a spiritual God. The subtlest form
of infidelity in our day proceeds on the principle
that man knows nothing of the nature or reality of
things, or that he can know nothing except rela-
tions between things unknown. It no longer takes
the form of rationalism, pretending to discover truth
which in fact revelation has made known, and in
the end settinij itself above revelation : it makes
human reason proclaim that it cannot discover any
truth beyond and above the phenomena of sentient
experience. It does not just deny that there is a
God, — this, it says, would be unphilosophical, —
but it declares that God, if there be a God, is and
must be unknown. It does not say that man has
not a soul ; but it identifies that soul with the body,
and thus leaves no evidence that the soul may live
after the body dies. It is of course unreasonable
to seek after this unknowable God if haply we may
find him, or to imagine that we are bound to pay
him worship, or that we have any duties to discharge
towards him ; and as to the other world, if there be
DOCTRINE OF RELATIVITY. 123
another world, we may not draw from it any fears
of punishment or hopes of blessedness. In meet-
ing this fundamental scepticism, we need to stand
up for the veracity of the human faculties, and to
show tliat the same powers which guide correctly
in the business of life and in the pui'suits of science
are legitimately fitted to conduct to a reasonable
belief in One presiding over the works of nature
and providentially guiding our lot. This baldest of
all the philosophies, which have sprung up in our
world, is requiring reason to abnegate one of its
indefeasible rights, is cutting the root which sup-
ports man's most aspiring hopes, is denying to the
soul its highest exercises, is shearing it of its chief
glories. It is unlawfully circumscribing that noble
view which reason opens, and laboring to keep man
gazing for ever on the ground like the beast, when
his destiny is to look out on that distant horizon and
upward to the glories of heaven.
V.
Mental Principles involved in the Theistic Argument.
— Our Ideas lead us to believe in God and clothe
him with Power, Personality, Goodness, and Infin-
ity. — God so far Known. — Criticism of Mr. Herbert
Spencer. — God so far Unknown.
TN these Lectures I have been looking first at the
physical world as it is regarded by modern
science. But the physical facts do not show that
there is a God, unless we take along with them cer-
tain general principles. This induced me in my last
Lecture to turn to Mental Science, when I showed,
first, that the mind exists ; and, secondly, that it has
the capacity of acquiring knowledge. I am now to
show that, in the exercise of this its capacity, it can
rise to the knowledge of God and clothe him with
infinite perfections.*
Let us understand what I maintain in regard to
man's capacity of knowledge. I hold that he has a
power of intuition ; that is, of looking directly on
things without him and things within. But I cer-
* In this Lecture I liave used the principles established in my
work on the "Intuitions of the Mind," to which I refer those
who may wish to see the foundation on which I build more fully
discussed.
MAiY KNOWS THINGS. 1 25
tainly do not stand sponsor for such innate ideas as
Locke exposed till they perished with no one to
protect them. Nor do I defend those a ^rioi-i forms
which the mind, according to Kant, imposes on
things, giving to things what is not in the things, or
announcincr beforehand what thincjs are, or what
the}' should be. Out of these a -priori forms, cate-
gories, and ideas, able men in Germany constructed
in the last age a solemn and ambitious speculative
philosophy, which has had its brief season in Britain
and America, and may still be seen lingering among
us, like venerable gray locks on the heads of men
above fifty. But, like the foliage in the fall, it has
faded into the "sere and yellow leaf;" and, though
still shining in gorgeous colors, its destiny is to
die; when, as it contains some elements of truth, it
may help, I hope, to form a fruitful soil, — so differ-
ent from a barren sensationalism, — out of which
something better may spring. What I stand up for
is a much less proud and pretentious thing : it is not
a form to be imposed or superinduced on things, but
a power of looking at things. This knowledge is,
at first, only of individual things, — of things in the
concrete, as they present themselves. But out of
this it can draw great abstract and general truths,
rising out of great depths and mounting to great
heights, constituting a body of philosophy based on
the earth, but towering to heaven. It is because
we have this original knowledge that we can add
to it derived knowledge. Having this acquaintance
with individual things, we can rise to general laws
126 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
about thinjjs. Havino- beoun with realities, not with
mere impressions, ideas, and phenomena, all that
we reach by the abstracting, generalizing process
is also real ; and this not only a reality in thought,
but, thought being rightly conducted, a reality in
thinsfs.
And, among other things which we thus perceive
directly and intuitively, I hold that there is Power;
n'ot Power in the abstract, but things exercising
Power. This gives the principle of Cause and
Effect. I know that I have come to a keenly
agitated question. It is acknowledged on all hands
that the law of universal causation is sanctioned by
an enlarged experience. It is confessed to be the
widest law which the mind of man has reached.
No exceptions have been found to it, in any part at
least of the physical universe, near or far. But
some of us maintain that it is more ; that it is a con-
viction of our mental nature, not a conviction above
objective things, but a conviction in regard to things.
I hold, our consciousness witnessing thereto, that we
perceive things, both within and without us, not
merely as having existence, but as having potency.
We cannot know directly any object without us,
except as having power upon us. When we act,
we are exercising power. Potency, or propert}- of
some kind, is an essential element of things as known
to us. When a thing is known to me, I know it,
not as an impression, an idea, a bare phenomenon :
I know it as exercising power on me or some other
thing. Thus knowing power intuitively, we are
PRINCIPLE OF CAUSE AND EFFCT. 1 27
constrained to connect an effect, a thing effected,
with a thing having power to produce it.
But how does all this bear, it may be asked, on the
religious question? I answer, Much in every way.
Our knowledge of mind is needed, in addition to
our knowledge of matter, as a complement to make
up our knowledge of God. In particular, the prin-
ciple of cause and effect supplies the nexus which
connects God wdth his works. We have seen in
previous Lectures, that everywhere, all throughout
the Cosmos and throughout the ^ons, there is an
adaptation of one thing to another, of every part to
every other, of the part to the whole, and of the
whole to every part. This shows that there has
been a disposition and an arrangement, — in short, a
thing effected ; and this entitles us, on the principle
of cause and effect, to argue that there must have
been a cause. It has the guarantee of the observa-
tion of external nature, which goes as far as obser-
vation can go in establishing a universal law. But
it has a higher certitude — the guarantee of a men-
tal principle looking to the ver}^ nature of things, and
entitling us to argue, not merely within our expe-
rience, but beyond it, as to things in general and
everywhere, that an effect must have a cause ; not
only that this watch has had a watch-maker, but
that this orderly constructed world has had a world-
maker.
If we had not a Spiritual Nature ourselves, we
could not rise to the contemplation of God, who is
a Spirit. Were we incapacitated for knowledge, we
128 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
could not mount to the knowledge and contempla-
tion of God. Did we not know ourselves as sub-
stances, we never could ascend to the knowledge
of God as a substance. But, from the nature of the
effects of which we are conscious within ourselves,
we ascend to the recognition of a cause adequate to
produce them. Having ourselves a spiritual nature,
we conceive of God as a spirit. As having a sense,
or rather cognition, of power in ourselves, we are
led to clothe with power the Being from whom we
have sprung. If we believe that the God who made
the eye does himself see, we must also believe that
he who gave us our knowing powers must himself
know.
It is in the same way that we rise to a belief in
the Personality of God. Some of those who have
been fixed in the grasping vice of the metaphysics
of Kant have been sorely troubled with this ques-
tion ; and others, who picture God as unknowable,
have taken advantage of their perplexities. We
may be "persons," they say; but then it is because
we are finite. Personality, they urge, implies lim-
itation. It is not difficult, I think, to solve this
puzzle. We have an intuitive knowledge each one
of himself as a person distinct from every other
person and from the world. Kant, without mean-
ing it, led the whole of German philosophy into a
wide waste of pantheism by not allotting to person-
ality a place among the original cognitions of the
mind, — as he unfortunately called them " forms of
the mind." Having a knowledge of ourselves as
PERSONALITY AND GOODNESS OF GOD. I29
persons, we can rise to the contemplation of God as
a person, of God as different from his works. It is
true that we are limited in our personality as in
every thing else : it does not follow that God is lim-
ited in his personality or any thing else. True, if
we insist on saying that "God is all, and that all is
God," we cannot give him personality; but then
this is pantheism. And this consciousness which
we have of our personality is the truth which under-
mines pantheism. I am conscious of self as a per-
son different from the universe, different from God ;
so that God cannot be all, nor can all be God. But
God, while he is a person different from his works,
may be possessed of power, wisdom, goodness, to
which no limits can be set.
But man has higher perceptions than these ; and
they enable him to clothe the Divine Being with
still higher perfections. In looking at the voluntary
acts of intelligent beings, he perceives that they
may be good or that they may be evil : he sees that
gratitude is good, and that cruelty is evil. Let us
evolve what is involved in this idea. The good per-
ceived implies that we are under obligation to attend
to it ; and the evil, that we are under obligation to
avoid it. And being under obligation does seem to
imply that we are under obligation to a Power, or
rather a Being who will call us to account. This
seems to point to God as the Moral Governor, and at
last to be the Judge of the Universe. This is the
only argument for the Divine existence which seemed
conclusive to Kant, the great German metap]i3si-
6*
130 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
cian. It is the argument that seemed the strong
est to the eloquent Scottish Theologian Chalmers.
I am not sure that, taken by itself, it is sufficient to
prove the existence of a living Being above the
world, its Maker and Preserver. But there is no
need of taking it by itself. Combining it with the
argument from design, it proves that the God who
lives and rules in this world is possessed of moral
excellence. We are sure that he who planted the
moral sense within us must approve of the good
which it would lead us to approve of, and condemn
the evil which it would lead us to condemn.
I am quite aware of the process by which persons
endeavor to avoid the point of this argument. They
would account for these moral feelings of ours by
tlie association of ideas, which exercises some sort
of chemical power upon our ideas, and transmutes
ideas got from sense into ideas of moral good.
Now, in opposition to this, I hold that the laws of
association are the mere laws of the succession of
our ideas and attached feelings, and can generate
no new idea without a special inlet from without or
capacity within. Association cannot give a man
born blind the least idea of color, and as little can
it produce any other idea. By mixing the colors
of yellow and blue, the hand could produce green :
but give a person the idea of yellow and the idea
of blue, and from the two he could not manufacture
the idea of green ; still less could he, from these
sensations or any others, form such ideas as those
of moral good and evil. Take the perception of
IDEAS NOT GOT BY ASSOCIATION. 131
conscience, that deceit is a sin. Take the convic-
tion, that we are not at liberty to tell a lie, when we
might be tempted to do so. Take the judgment,
that the person who has committed the act is guilty,
condemnable, punishable. Take the feeling of re-
morse which rises when we contemplate ourselves
as having told a falsehood. Take the ver\^ peculiar
and profound ideas denoted by the phrases " obliga-
tion," " ought," "blameworthy." We have here a
series of mental phenomena quite as real, and quite
as w^orthy of being looked at, as our very sensations
or ideas of pleasure and pain.
Give us mere sensations, say of sounds or colors
or forms, or of pleasure and pain, and they will
never be any thing else, in the reproduction of
them, than the ideas of sounds, colors, forms, pleas-
ures, or pains ; unless, indeed, there be some new
power introduced, and this new element, in itself or
in conjunction with the sensations, be fitted to pro-
duce a new idea, and that very idea. The process
by which some affect to generate our moral beliefs
is like that of the old alchemists, who, when they
put earth into the retort, never could get any thing
but earth, and who could get gold only by surrepti-
tiously introducing some substance containing gold.
The philosopher's stone of this psychology is of
the same character as that employed in mediieval
physics. If they put in sensations only, as some
do, they never have any thing but sensations ; and
a " dirt philosophy," as it has been called, is the
product. If gold is got, it can onl}' be because it
132 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
has been quietly introduced by the person who
exhibits it. Provided we had the ideas, the laws
of association might show how they could be brought
up again ; and how, in the reproduction, certain
parts might sink into shadow and neglect, while
others came forth into light and prominence ; and
how the whole feeling, by the confluence of differ-
ent ideas, might be wrought into a glow of inten-
sity : but the difficulty of generating the ideas, such
ideas, ideas so full of meaning, is not thereby sur-
mounted. The idea I have of pain is one thing,
and the idea I have of deceit — that it is morally evil,
condemnable, deserving of pain — is an entirely dif-
ferent thing, our consciousness being witness. On
the supposition that there is a chemical power, as
is alleged, in association to create such ideas as
those of duty and merit, sin and demerit, this chem-
ical power would be a native moral power ; not the
product of sensations, but a power above them, and
fitted to transmute them from the baser into the
golden substance, and would entitle us to clothe
that Being, who had given us such power, w^ith the
moral qualities with which he has endowed us.
But then it is urged that all that you have said
does not prove that this Being, whom you have thus
clothed with power and goodness, is the Infinite
God. I admit this at once. No one ever said that
it does. The physical works of God in the earth
and heavens can never furnish proof of any thing
more than the large, the immense, the indefinite,
— not the infinite. To ar<i;ue otherwise would be
INFINITE' OF GOD. 133
placing in the conclusion what is not in the prem-
ises. If we would clothe God with infinity, we
must look within to our perceptions and belief as
to infinit}'-.
I feel that I am approaching a profound subject.
It is not easy to sound its depths. It was long
before I was able to attain any thing like clear
ideas on the subject. I have pondered for many
successive hours on it, only to find it shrouding
itself in deeper mystery. On the one hand, I found
the more profound philosophers of the continent of
Europe giving this idea of the Infinite a high place,
indeed the highest place, in their systems. In
coming back from flights in company with the
German metaphysicians, to inquire of British phi-
losophers what they make of this idea, I found their
views meagre and unsatisfactory ; for the idea of the
infinite, according to them, is a mere negation, a
mere impotency. But if we can entertain no such
idea, how do all men speak of it ? If it be a mere
impotency, how do we come to clothe the Divine
Being with Infinity?
Feelin"- as if I needed somewhere to find it, I
proceed in the truly British or Baconian method
to inquire. How does such an idea or belief in the
infinite, as the mind actually has, rise within us, and
what is its precise nature? The imagination can
add and add: so far, we have the immense, the in-
definite. Thus, in respect of time, it can add mill-
ions of years or ages to millions of years and ages.
In respect of extension, it can add millions and bill-
134 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
ions and trillions of leagfues to millions and bill-
ions and trillions of leagues, and then multiply the
results by each other, millions of billions of trillions
of times. But when it has finished this process, it
has not infinity : it has merely immensity. If, when
we had gone thus far, time and space ceased, we
.vhould still have the finite, — a very wide finite, no
doubt, but not the infinite. But it is a law of the
mind that, when we have gone thus far, we are
necessitated to believe that existence does not stop
there, — nay, to believe that, to whatever other point
we might go, there must be a something beyond.
Suppose we were carried to such a point, would
we not stretch out our hand, confidently believing
that there is a space beyond, or that, if our hand be
stayed, it must be by body occupying space? We
are necessitated to believe that, after we have gone
thus far, we are not at the outer edge of the uni-
verse of being, — nay, though we were to multiply
this distance by itself, and this by itself ten thou-
sand millions of times, till the imagination felt itself
dizzy, still, after we have reached this point, we
are constrair.ed to believe that there must be some-
thing beyond. This seems to me to be the very
law of the mind in reference to infinity : not only
can it not set limits to existence, it is constrained to
believe that there are no limits. " If the mind,"
says John Foster, " were to arrive at the solemn
ridge of mountains which we may fancy to bound
creation, it would eagerly ask. Why no farther ?
what is beyond ? "
PERFECTION OF GOD. 1 35
But this is onl}' one side of this idea and con-
viction : the mind has anotlier and a more impor-
tant. We apprehend, and are constrained tobeheve,
in regard to objects which we look upon as infinite,
that they are incapable of increase or diminution.
We represent to ourselves the Divine Being with
certain attributes, — say, as wise or good, — and
our belief as to Him and these attributes is, that
he cannot be wiser or better. This aspect may
be appropriately designated as the Perfect. This is
the conviction of the Perfect of which so many pro-
found philosophers make so much ; but not more,
as I think, than they are entitled to do. We think
of God as having all his attributes such that no
addition could be made, and we call such attributes
his perfections. In regard to the moral attributes
of Deity, it is this significant woi'd Perfect, rather
than infinite, which expresses the conviction we
are led to entertain in regard, for example, to the
wisdom, or benevolence, or righteousness of God.
Join these two aspects, and we have such an
idea as the finite mind of man can form of the
infinite. The first of these views tends to humble
us, as showing how far our creature impotency is
below Creator Power. The other has rather a
tendency to elevate us by showing a perfect exem-
plar. The Perfect shines above us like the sun
in the heavens, distant and unapproachable, daz-
zling and blinding us as we would gaze upon it ;
but still our eye ever tends to turn up towards it,
and we feel tliat it is a blessed tliinu" that there is
136 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
such a light, and that we are permitted to walk in
it and rejoice in it.
This seems to be a necessai-y perception : we
cannot be made to believe, to think otherwise. Not
only so : it is in a sense a universal belief. No
doubt the widest image formed by many human
beings, as by children and savages, must be very
narrow ; but, whether narrow or wide, they always
believe that. there must be something beyond, and
that this is incapable of augmentation. Pursue
any line sufficiently far, and we shall find it going
out into infinity. So true is it that
The feeling of the boundless bounds
All feeling as the welkin doth the world.
But the infinite in which the mind is led intuitively
to believe is not an abstract infinite. It is a belief
in something infinite. When the visible things of
God declare that there is an intelligent Being, the
Author of all the order and adaptation in the uni-
verse, we are impelled to believe that this Being
is and must be infinite ; and we clothe him with
eternal power and godhead. The intuition is
gratified to the full in the contemplation of a
God Eternal, Omnipresent, All Mighty, and All
Perfect.
Thus it is that I construct the argument for the
existence of God ; and the same considerations
which prove that he is, prove that he has certain
perfections. I do not stand up for a God-conscious-
ness as a simple and single instinct gazing directly
THE CONVICTION SPONTANEOUS. 1 37
on God. I maintain that there are a number and
variet}^ of native principles, each of which, being
favored by external circumstances, would lead us
up to God. Every deeper principle w^hich guides
us in the practical affairs of life, and in the pursuit
of science, and in our obligations towards our fel-
low-men, prompts us to look upward to a Being
to whom w^e stand in the closest relationship. The
law of cause and effect, the law of moral good,
the striving after the idea of the infinite, these with
the circumstances in which we are placed, with the
traces of purpose and providence and retribution,
with a generated sense of dependence, all, each in
its own way, and all together would draw or drive
our thoughts above nature to a supernatural power.
All the living streams in our world, if we ascend
them, conduct to the fountain. All the scattered
rays show us the luminary. I find the materials of
the argument in every work of God, and the strings
that bind them in the laws or principles of knowl-
edge, belief, and judgment. It gets its nutriment
from objects, and it has its roots in the mind itself.
The conviction springs up spontaneously in all
minds. At the same time it may be repressed or it
maybe perverted, — by ignorance, by sintul stupid-
ity, by lusts, by worldly engrossments; by pride,
indisposing us to submit to restraints ; by our shrink-
ing instinctively from condemnation. We can thus
account for two things conjoined in the whole re-
ligious history of mankind. We have in all ages,
in all countries and states of society, a tendency to
138 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
believe in some sort of supernatural or divine power.
There is no nation, in fact no individual, without
some rudiment of religion. Some, indeed, have
declared that they have found not only persons, but
tribes, without religion. And this is true when by
religion they mean a belief that would be accepted
by civilized men, and involving a conception of a
spiritual God. But more careful observers, able to
search the depths of the heart, have always found
some vague apprehension of a being or a power sup-
posed to be different from the natural elements, and
fitted to raise up fear or hope.* But along with
* In that curious conglomerate, Sir John Lubbock's book,
'■On the Origin of Civilization and Primitive Condition of
Man," there is a heterogeneous collection of statements by travel-
lers, historians, and missionaries, as to the religion and moral-
ity of savage nations. Some of the authors quoted are not fitted
to penetrate the depths of the human heart; yet there is a general
concurrence as to some sort of religious faith or fear being found
among the lowest tribes. The Australians " possess certain vague
ideas as to the existence of evil spirits and a general dread of
witchcraft." The Backapins, a Kaffir tribe, have no outward wor-
ship, but '"they believe in sorcery and the efficacy of amulets."
The Indians of California had " certain sorcerers whom they be-
lieved to possess power over diseases, to bring small-pox, famine,
&c., and of whom, therefore, they were in much fear." The Hot-
tentots have very vague ideas about a good spirit, but " have
much clearer notions about an evil spirit, whom they fear, believ-
ing him to be the occasion of sickness, death, thunder, and every
calamity that befalls them." On Williams placing a Fijian before
a mirror, he stood delighted, and said softly, '• Now I can see into
a world of spirits." Sir John says that "certain phenomena, as,
for instance, sleep and dreams, pain, disease, and death, have
naturally created in the savage mind a belief in the existence
of mysterious and invisible Beings." This general tendency, I
add, must have a common cause in the nature of man.
PERVERTED VIEWS OF GOD. 1 39
this there is about as universal a disposition to per-
vert and degrade the divine nature and character.
Some, from ignorance and narrowness of view and
heart, see God in only a small part of his work-
manship ; some only in certain of his gifts, as in
i-ain and harvest; some, with a secret conscious-
ness of sin, only in his judgments. The miscon-
ception of his character varies with the mind,
disposition, and sympathies of the individual or of
the nation. The light is shining all around, and
each soul has so far a capacity to receive it : but each
receives only so much, and rejects the rest; hence
the meagre, the ridiculous, the caricatured shapes
and colors in which God is made to appear. Per-
sons low in the scale of intelligence make him a
mere Fetich, probably identifying him with certain
objects or powers which we know to lie within the
domain of nature. Communities, with a low moral
standard, will love to have a God who patronizes
thieving or robbery or murder. We see the same
disposition working even in civilized countries.
The lover of fine sentiment clothes him in robes of
beauty, but takes no cognizance of his justice ; and
the academic moralist, declining to recognize the
existence of sin in our world, paints him as a being
of pure benevolence ; while the conscience-stricken
array him in colors of blood. The course of
religious history in our world, under the influence
of these two opposite forces, is thus a devious and
inconsistent one, — an inclination to believe in God
and an inclination to misrepresent him ; a tendency
140 JSTATVRAL THEOLOGY.
to turn towards him, and a tendency to turn away
from him ; a disposition to receive him, but a dispo-
sition to receive only so much as may suit or gratify.
In these Lectures I have traversed two worlds,
that of mind and that of matter, — in too rapid a
manner I acknowledge. My object is gained, if I
have in any measure succeeded in showing that
every part of creation in the past and in the present,
without us and within us, speaks in its own way,
in loud or in low accents, in behalf of its great
Creator. The argument is cumulative, derived partly
from without, and partly from within, — partly from
the external world, and partly from the. princi-
ples of the mind. The evidence is not so much
a melody as a harmony produced by the union of
many melodies. The voice is like the voice of
many waters ; some soft as the sighing of the gentle
stream, others loud as the roar of ocean sent forth
by ten thousand waves. It is like the song which
ascends in heaven from a people gathered out of
every tongue and nation, each chanting in his own
strain, but all uniting in one melodious and harmo-
nious song. In particular we are constrained to
believe that the true, the lovely, and the holy, all
meet as in a focus of surpassing brilliancy in the
character of God. Wherever these are to be found
in his creatures, they are emanations from him.
Thus our discussions, beginning with the creature,
have ended with the Creator : beginning with the
finite have ended with the Infinite : beginning with
REVIEW OF H. SPENCER. 141
the imperfect have ended with the Perfect, — and
lead us to Him in whom all excellence meets and
centres.
Having thus built up the structure, it will be neces-
sary to meet those who assail it. You see that I set
myself entirely against that prevailing style of talk
in our day which represents God as unknown and
unknowable. It was introduced, unfortunately, by
Sir William Hamilton, who would make the Apostle
Paul favor it bec.iuse he starts in his argument from
an altar which he had seen dedicated to the un-
known God. But Paul said expressly to the men
of Athens, to whom he was speaking, "Whom
therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I
(xKTrtj'j'flca) unto you." And in writing to the Ro-
mans, he says, "The invisible things of God from
the creation of the world are clearly seen" — not seen
by the eye, but by the mind; "being understood"
(^voov^eva, comprehended by the higher mind) " from
the things that are made." Herbert Spencer has
turned Hamilton's rash expression to a purpose
never intended. Mr. Spencer observes, very justly
and sensibly, that " it is rigorously impossible to con-
ceive that our knowledge is a knowledge of appear-
ances only, without at the same time conceiving a
reality of which they are appearances ; for appear-
ance without reality is unthinkable." * This is a
* "First Principles," 2d ed., p. 88. In the Appendix to this
volume will be found A Critical Note on Mr. Herbert Spencer's
Speculations.
142 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
very important admission, of which I mean to take
advantage. But then he maintains that this reahty
beyond the appearances must ever remain unknown
to man. It is at this point I meet him. He reckons
it the province of science to master the known
appearances ; and he allots to religion, the sphere
of unknown realities, that unascertained something
which phenomena and their relations imply. This
is the " fundamental verity " common to all relig-
ions, the ultimate religious truth of the highest
possible certainty, " that the powder which the
universe manifests to us is utterly unscrutable." *
I do not know what religious profit Mr. Spencer
may derive from meditating on this Unknown,
whether he feels that he should pay it (we cannot
say Him) any worship, or render it any service, or
feel under any obligation of duty to it ; or whether
it tends to draw him to what is good or drive him
from what is evil. But of this I am sure, that if peo-
ple generally should be led to embrace his creed,
it would come to mean that men need not trouble
themselves about religion, in the darkness, of wiiich
no object can be seen to revere or to love. I am
sure that if we banish religion to this Siberia, it
will be to make it perish in the cold. To consign
it thus is to bury it in the grave from which it will
not send forth even a ghost to trouble any one.
I meet Mr. Spencer on his own ground. I pro-
ceed on his own admission. He comes down to a
"fundamental verity." He does so on the ground
* First Principles, p. 46.
CRITICISM OF II. SPENCER. 143
of his being necessitated to assume it. He is con-
strained to believe that there is something beyond
the visible appearances, and that this is a reality ;
for he says that " appearance without reality is
unthinkable." Now I, too, rest on a "fundamental
verity." I, too, believe that there is a something
beyond what falls under the senses ; and that this
somethinfy is real. But on the same ijround on
which Mr. Spencer proceeds, in arguing a reality
beyond our sensible experience, I proceed in main-
taining that we know that reality, so far know it.
If the one is a fundamental verity, so also is the
other. If we are necessitated to believe the one,
we are equally necessitated to believe the other.
Or, rather, the "fundamental verity" is, that we are
constrained to believe, not in an unknown reality,
but in a known reality. The truth is, we know this
something to exist, because we so far know it.
I have my doubts whether this " fundamental
verity," as Mr. Spencer puts it, can stand a sifting
examination. It embraces three clauses: (i) that
there is a something beyond, (2) that it is a reality,
and (3) that it is unknown and unknowable. He
is powerful in dogmatic assertion, and there are
dependent minds that will at once bend under his
authority ; but there are persons as independent as
he, who will ask themselves, and ask him, whether
he is entitled, on his principles, to assume that,
beyond what appears, there is a something which
is a reality. Might not the belief have sprung up
without a cause ? Or, if Mr. Spencer admit the
144 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
principle that every effect has a cause, he must
seek for other causes, which, as they are brought
in, may destroy the whole symmetr}^ of his system,
and turn this unknown into a known cause. Or,
might not this belief have been produced by heredi-
tar}' descent from some instinct of our ancestors
among the lower animals ? And what proof is
there, or can there be, that this unknown something
is a reality, — is any thing more than a belief ? Of
this I am sure, that Mr. Spencer's followers will
care nothing for this something beyond, for this un-
known something. They will say that, if we know
and can know nothing of its nature, it is a matter of
no moment whether it exists or not ; that the admis
sion can carry with it no practical consequences for
instruction, for comfort, or for admonition. If this
be so, then this region which Mr. Spencer has so
kindly allotted to religion, and in which all relig-
ions may meet — in the dark — vanishes; and man-
kind will not miss it, there being extremely little
difference to us between absolute nothing, and
the absolutely unknowable. But Mr. Spencer is
completely mistaken, consciousness being wit-
ness, as to the nature and character of this fun-
damental verity, which, when properly interpreted,
is, that we know things appearing ; and on princi-
ples which can be specified and defended, as, for
instance, on the principle of causation, we argue
that these things appearing, being real, imply
other things also real, though not appearing to
the senses.
WB CAN- COME TO KNOW GOB. 1 45
The school ajrainst which I am arfjuinjj do not
profess to deny the existence of God: this, they
say, would be unphilosophical ; it would be as
unphilosophical to deny as to affirm any thing as
to a terra incognita. What they hold is, that if he
exist, he must be unknown. But, towards an abso-
lutely unknown being w^e can cherish no affection ;
and we do not feel as if he could have any claim
upon us for service or obedience. To look on this
object is merely to gaze upon the darkness without
a point of light to cheer us. It can supply no high
ideal after which to mould our character. From
such a God, if he deserve the name, we can draw
no sympathy in our sorrows, no help in our w'eak-
ness. From him we can derive no hopes to cheer,
though I can conceive that he might raise some
fears of evil, to come we know not when or how.
Now, I meet all this by showing that we are
capable of knowing, and that what we know is a
reality. From what w^e know directly, we can rise
to the knowledije of other thinji^s. We cannot look
immediately into the souls of our neighbors ; but
we infer that they exist, and can learn much of
their character from what we see them do. We
may not have been in India or China ourselves ; but
we know much about these countries, from the
reports brought us by travellers. I allow that we
are not directly conscious of God, any more than
we are of our fellow-men ; but we legitimately infer
his cliaracter from the works of creation and provi-
dence, and the revelation he has made of himself
7
146 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
in his Word. We cannot know the world to come
by visiting it ; but we know what it must be from
the character of God, and the moral laws by which
he governs the universe.
A thing, I hold, can be known by its effects.
Most of the things we know are known to us
simply by what they do. We know the sun and
stars ; we know that distant house and hill ; not
directly, but as reflecting rays of light which reach
our eyes. There is a man we have never seen :
but we know him to be eloquent from his speeches
which we have read ; to be benevolent, from his
deeds of charity ; to be truthful, from his continuing
in the path of integrity when he might have been
tempted to swerve from it. In like manner, we
can come to know God from his works : know him
to be powerful, from the traces of power every-
where visible ; to be good, from the provision made
for the happiness of his creatures ; and to be just,
from his mode of government. The real effects in
nature carry us up to a real cause above nature.
We recognize him, not as the unknown cause, but
as the known cause of known eff'ects. We clothe
him with varied attributes, so as to make him capa-
ble of producing the varied effects we discover.
The evidences of design argue an adequate cause
in an intelligent designer ; the traces of beneficent
contrivance show that he is animated by love ; and
the nature of the moral power in man, and of the
moral government of the world, is a proof of the
existence of a Moral Governor.
jvjE know god bt his works. 147
We know all created things better, from the very
circumstance that we know God as their author.
Aristotle uttered a profound truth when he said we
know things in their causes.* The truth is, we can
scarcely be said to have a full knowledge of a thing
till we know its causes. I hold that we have a very
imperfect knowledge of the works of nature till we
view them as works of God, — not only as works
of mechanism, but works of intelligence; not only
as under laws, but under a law-giver, wise and
good.
True, we do not know all about God. We know,
after all, only a part; but, "we know in part,"
and what we know is truth, so far as it goes.
" Clouds and darkness are round about him ; right-
eousness and judgment are the habitation of his
throne." The truth is, there is no object with which
we have such ample means of becoming acquainted.
We cannot open our eyes without discovering his
workmanship. We cannot inspect any part of
nature without contemplating in the very act his
ways of procedure. We are ever, whether we
acknowledge it or not, recipients of his bounty.
There is no being, excepting ourselves, with whom
we come into more immediate and frequent contact.
We know only in part, because of his infinity and
our finity ; but to know a very little of him is to
know much. As Paul told the men of Athens,
" He giveth to all life and breath, and all things,"
* Tore yup eifievai (^afiiv eKaarov, orav Tfjv npurjjv airiav olu/icda ^rcj/Ji-
^eiv. — Metaphysics, B. I. c. iii.
148 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
and he is " not far from every one of us : for in him
we live, and move, and have our being, as certain
also of your own poets have said, For we are c.lso his
offspring." We know enough to gain our faith ; to
inspire our confidence ; to kindle our love ; to awe
us in the time of prosperity when we might be
tempted to become vain, proud, and presumptuous ;
and to sustain us in all the critical positions of life
and the dark dispensations of providence.
It requires to be added that as most errors con-
tain some truth, as all prevalent errors contain a
sufficient amount of truth to make them plausible, so
we may discover some truth even in the meagre
fundamental principle of Spencer. I must ever
hold that we can come to know God : still he is to
a great extent unknown. " Canst thou by search-
ing find out God? canst thou find out the Almighty
unto perfection? It is as high as heaven ; what canst
thou do? deeper than hell ; what canst thou know? "
We can so far apprehend him ; but, to use an old
distinction, we cannot comprehend him. We know
him as we know the ocean when we stand upon its
shores : what w^e see is the ocean, but not the whole
ocean, which stretches beyond our ken. This arises
mainly from our limited capacity; but partly, also,
it may be, because of our pollution, as not capable
of reflecting the full brightness of God. It is clear
that God has attributes like ours ; for, by the powers
with which he has endowed us, we can produce
effects like those we see produced by him in
nature. We have been formed in his likeness, and
GOD so FAR UNKNOWN. 1 49
can thus understand those qualities in Him which
are like those he hath been pleased to commu-
nicate to us. But, even as to these, the attributes
which are limited in us are infinite in him, and can-
not be grasped by us who are finite. But there is
more than this involved in our ignorance. There
is another and deeper sense in which God is un-
known. We discover effects in nature which we
must refer to a sovereign power that must ever
remain a mystery to us in this world. God seems
to possess perfections differing not only in degree
but in kind from any thing possessed by man. The
blind man cannot form the most distant idea of
colors, nor the deaf man of music ; so there may
be attributes of God of which we cannot form the
dimmest conception, differing as much from any
thing we have experienced, as colors do from
sounds, as mind does from body. It is in this high
region that we place the mysteries of the decrees
of God, of the origin of evil, and such doctrines as
that of the Trinity. Is not this the very view that
is given in Scripture where he is described as known
and yet unknown ? " The invisible things are clearly
seen, being understood from the things that are
made." "Yet verily thou art a God that hidest thy-
self." All this is suited to our nature, to its strength
and to its weakness. If God were all darkness, we
could look upon him only with an ignorant terror :
if he w^ere all light, he might dazzle us by excess of
brightness. As it is, we are led at once to revere
and to love him. We instinctively avoid the open,
150 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
uninteresting plain, with the long, straight road
leading through it, from which we see at once all
we ever can see ; and we prefer the country with
hill and dale, with open lawn and forest, with light
and shade, where we ever get glimpses of new
objects and see them in distant perspective. It is
from a like principle that we delight to lose our-
selves in the contemplation of the mysteries of the
divine nature, in which there is the brightest light,
and yet enough of darkness to awe us into rever-
ence, and subdue us into a sense of dependence.
God may truly be described as the Being of whom
we know the most, inasmuch as we cannot open
our e3'es without looking on the operations of his
hands, and we see more of his works and ways
than of the works and ways of any other ; and yet
He is the Being of whom we know the least, as
we know comparatively less of his whole nature than
we do of ourselves, or of our fellow-men, or of any
object falling under our notice in this world. They
wdio know most of him in earth or heaven know
that they know little after all ; but they know that
they may know more and more of him throughout
eternal aces.
VI.
Progress of Free Thought in America. — Rationalism.
— Boston Theology. — Positivism.
T KEEP it before me throughout these Lectures,
-^ that I am addressing young men who have been
thrown into the current of the times ; who must
swim with it, or resist it, or, better still, seek to
guide it. I presume that you look, from time to
time, into the literary organs of the day, and that
)'ou have heard of, and may have to take your part
— by act, vote, or speech — in, the questions dis-
cussed. You wdsh to be able to form a sound judg-
ment, each for himself, and then take your position,
and act your part intelligently, charitably, wisely,
courageously, in the eventful and critical era in
which your lot has been cast.
In the Lectures already delivered, I have laid
down what I believe to be the right positions, and
defended them to the best of my ability, and as
fully as my limited space allowed. I feel that I
must now apply them, in the good old way of Pui-i-
tan preaching, to the circumstances in which the
students in this Seminary are placed. I cannot
forget what are your surroundings, as you are pur-
152 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
suing your education in this country in an age in
which old thought is being thorough!}- sifted. I have
now to survey the history and the state of opinion
in America : this I would do in no harsh or narrow
manner, but in order to estimate with candor the
influences under which you may have to form your
opinions and decide on your line of conduct.
In doing so, it will be necessary to take a look
at the nature and progress of the new opinions
which have been opposing or seeking to undermine
the old. But, in order to this, you must take an
excursion with me into New England, and pay a
visit to Boston, which has exercised such an influ-
ence on the literature and theology of America, —
on literature altogether for good ; and on theology,
whether for good or for evil, we must now seek
to determine. We must, in particular, follow the
progress of what has been called the Boston Theol-
ogy ; for there is a Boston Theology, just as there
has been a Genevan Theology, a Wesleyan Theol-
ogy, and an Oxford Theology.
I feel as if I were familiar with the Boston Theol-
ogy. It is known not only here, but has a name
in Europe. There were anticipations of it in Old
England, and all over New England ; but it was
Dr. Channing who first brought it under the notice
of the world. Of the illustrious man now named,
no one should allow himself to speak except with
profound reverence. His style — with a little too
much of glitter and of rhetoric at times — is worthy
of being compared with that of Macaulay. His essay
CHANNING. 153
on the character of Napoleon has a higher tone
than any thing Macaulay ever wrote, and is one of
the noblest specimens of moral criticism which we
have in the English language. His firm and con-
sistent opposition to slavery is a continued rebuke of
the conduct of many chicken-hearted or time-serv-
ing Evangelicals, who are loud enough now in their
denunciations, but could keep wonderfully quiet an
age ago, and ever said hush, when the troublesome
subject was started. To his credit, so I reckon it,
he stuck by the inspiration of Scripture, as I under-
stand it, and has left us defences of the Word of
God as true as they are eloquent. But everybody
sees that he has failed to prove that Socinianism or
Unitarianism is in the Bible, in the letter or in the
spirit of it. Whatever may be found in the Word
of God, it is clear that rationalism is not there.
Paul is certainly no rationalist, when he proclaims
that Jesus held it no robbery to be equal with God ;
that a man is justified by faith ; and that Jesus
died for sinners, — the just for the unjust. John is
certainly no rationalist when he declares that the
Logos, which was with God and was God, became
flesh, and shows us a way by which we may rise
through him to fellowship with God; and, "truly,
our fellowsliip is with the Father, and with his Son
Jesus Christ." And, surely, Jesus is no rationalist,
when he, the meekest and the most truly humble of
all men that have appeared on earth, could say so
calmly, " I and my Father are one," and when the
Jews were proclaiming, " No one can forgive sin but
7*
154 NATURAL THEOLOGt.
God only," could command, "Thy sins be forgiven
Ihee." The Old Testament shadow going before
the substance, and telling of its approach dimly and
yet qlearly, is certainly not rationalism. So opin-
ion could not stay at the place to which Channing
conducted it. Those who in these times keep his
position are made to feel that they are left high and
dr}^ upon a srindy beach, to which he had floated
them, but from which they are not likely to be deliv-
ered by any subsequent wave rising to their relief.
So a bolder and more out-spoken thinker ap-
peared : a man somewhat too self-dependent and
self-conscious, but courageous and ever ready to
defend the weak against the strong, and to run to the
rescue of suffering humanity. He does not affect to
derive what doctrine he held from the Bible ; and all
men felt that he was right there. His creed is not
to be found in tlie Old Testament with its sacrificial
types : or in the New Testament with a bloody cross
on its title-page ; in the unworldly discourses of Jesus
recommending meekness, self-denial, the casting
away of our own righteousness, and trust in God;
or the elaborate exposition of an atonement in the
epistles of Paul. His mother, living in the declining
age of Puritanism, — when its life had withered and
only its bare stalks were left, like stubble after the
grain had been cut down, — recommended : " In my
earliest boyhood I was taught to respect the instinc-
tive promptings of conscience, regarding it as the
voice of God in the soul of man, which must always
be obeyed ; to speak the truth without evasion or
THEODORE PARKER. 155
concealment ; to love justice and conform to it ;
to reverence merit in all men, and that regardless
of their rank or reputation ; and, above all things, I
was tauo-ht to love and trust the dear God." All
good, we sa}^ only this conscience needs to be
quickened, enlightened by the revealed word of
God, and strengthened in its contest with sin in the
heart by the God who planted it there. This ardent
man was not satisfied with the creed of his party, so
like a winter day, cold, colorless, so soon setting
in freezing night. " Their cry was ever ' duty, duty,
work, work ;' but they failed to address with equal
power the soul, and did not also shout 'joy, joy I
delight, delight ! ' " " Their wat^r was all laboriously
pumped up from deep wells. It did not gush out
leaping from the great spring. That is indeed on
the surface of the sloping ground, feeding the little
streams that run among the hills, and both quench-
ing the wild asses' thirst, and watering also the
meadows, newly mown, but which yet comes from
the Rock of Ages, and is pressed out by the cloud-
compelling mountains that rest thereon : yes, by the
gravitation of the earth itself; yes, by the gravi-
tadon of the earth itself." " I thought they lacked
the deep internal feeling of piety which alone could
make feeling lasting. Certainly they had not that
most joyous of all delights. This fact seemed clear in
their sermons, their prayers, and even in the hymns
the}^ made, borrowed, or adopted." " It is a dismal
fault in a religious party this lack of piety, and
dismally have the Unitarians answered it ! " "Their
156 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
creed was only a denial always trembling before the
Orthodox." This did not suit the strong, impulsive
nature of the man ; and so he must construct a re-
ligion for himself. It was what he called an Abso-
lute Religion, which belongs to man's nature. He
rejected the sensationalism, so earthh^, of the old
Unitarian school, and betook himself to intuitions,
which seem to carry him up to the heavens, and
actually took him up to the clouds. He drew his
system (i) from the instinctive intuition of the
Divine, the consciousness that there is a God; (2)
The instinctive intuition of the just and right,
a consciousness that there is a moral law, inde-
pendent of our will, which we ought to keep ;
(3) The instinctive intuition of the immortal, a
consciousness that the essential element of man,
the principle of individuality, never dies. He got
the inspiration which led to all this from the works
of Carlyle and Coleridge, reprinted in America,
and reviews and translations of Cousin, and longed
earnestly to get aid from the destructive Biblical
criticism and the constructive a ^j'iori philosophy
of Germany, which aid he never got ; for the
Germans thought his religion very irreligious, and
his rationalism very irrational. But when they
heard these utterances, the young men of Boston —
that is, men who were young thirty or forty years
ago — shouted, and flung up their hats in the air,
and said, Channing is setting as the sun on a win-
ter da}', but Theodore Parker is rising like the sun
on a spring morning.
INTUITIONALISM. 1 5 7
The icy, the frigid, and rigid rationalism of the
winter now came to be dissolved in the heat of a
warmer season, and your fathers had a time of wad-
ing deep in melting matter. It is now acknowledged
that the logical processes of definition and reason-
inij can do little in religion : and those who in the
previous age would have appealed to these now called
in something livelier, — Feeling, Belief, Inspiration ;
in one word. Intuition. In the age then passing
away, "excelsior" youths were like to be starved
in cold ; in the age which succeeded, they are in
greater danger of having the seeds of wasting
disease fostered by lukewarm damps and gilded
vapors. The appeal was to faith, feeling, intuition.
But what were men to believe in ? Did any two
men agree in their feelings? Are we quite certain
when we have intuition and when we have not intu-
ition? The arbiter was too vague in its utterances
to teach certainty, to secure assurance, or even to
gain general consent. A dreamer appeared as the
representative of this period, getting the material
of his dreams from Goethe and Thomas Carlyle,
but ever colored with the hues of his own peculiar
genius. He is thus introduced by Theodore Parker :
"The brilliant (renius of Emerson rose in the winter
night and hung over Boston, drawing the eyes of
ingenuous young people to look to that great new
star, and a beauty and a mystery which charmed
for the moment, while it gave also perennial instruc-
tion, as it led them forward along new paths and
towards new hopes. America has seen no such
158 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
sight before." "A beauty and a m3^stery," I admit,
"which charms for the moment." If I were inclined
to believe in dreams of any kind, I would as readily
believe in Emerson's as in any others. The visions
seen by De Quincey, the opium-eater, are not more
beautiful. Coming from such a soul they must con-
tain truth, some of it welling up frorii the deepest
intuitions of the mind as from a fresh, clear foun-
tain. Some are the unconscious reflection of the
light shining from the Word of God in a Christian
land. Others are to be read, like dreams, by con-
traries. The oracles which he utters are often capa-
ble of a double meaning ; and men will interpret
them to suit their purpose. And what, after all, am
I to think and believe about God and the soul and
the world to come, and of the way of rising to com-
munion with God and the enjoyments of heaven?
is the question which is often put to me by young
men, after reading Emerson's papers ; and I have to
tell them that Mr. Emerson must answer them, for
I cannot.
About thirty years ago, when men now fifty years
of age were boys at college, they believed that
something' great and good and stable was to come
out of a showy Intuitionalism, as I call it, which
drew all truth out of the depths of the soul. Men
like Goethe and Coleridge and Carlyle, and their
admirers in Great Britain and America, looked so
profound and threw out such mysterious utterances
of their being able — if only they chose — to divulge
something very profound, that earnest and confiding
GOETHE AND CARLYLE. 1 59
3'ouths believed in them. But somehow or other
they never chose : some of us think, because they
had nothing to utter. Though often pressed to
expound their secret, they have always shunned
doing so ; and people begin to suspect that there
is nothing in it. There was an expectation, long
entertained by man}-, that something better than the
old Christianity of the Bible, literally inteipreted,
might come out of the great German philosophic
svstems of Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and
Schleiermacher ; but these hopes have been doomed
to acknowledged disappointment. Coleridgt has
played out his tune, sweet and irregular as the harp
of -ii^olus ; and all men perceive that he never had
any thing to meet the deeper wants of humanity,
except what he drew from the songs of Zion. It
has long been clear in regard to Goethe, and is now
being seen in regard to Carlyle, that neither of
them ever had any thing positive to furnish in
religion, and that all they had to utter was blankly
negative ; and I rather think that the last hope of
deriving an}^ thing soul-satisfying from such quar-
ters has vanished from the minds of those who
have been impressed with their genius.
The spirit is still lingering in certain circles of
America, and it clothes itself at times in such beau-
tiful forms that I am inclined to admire it, as I do
the clouds in the evening sky, convinced though T
be, all the while, that they are mere vapors, and
soon to fade into dulness and gloom. As to the
intuitionalism, which rose out of rationalism as
l6o NATURAL THEOLOGT.
fogs rise out of the melted ice, it is acknowledged
that it is not i-ational. No man can draw Parker's
creed — a creed noble in so many respects — out of
human reason, any more than he could derive Chan-,
ning's creed out of the Scriptures. One-half of
all that is noble was drawn through a noble mother
out of the Bible, is in fact the reflection of the light
which is diffused all throughout the atmosphere in
a Christian country while the sun is shining, but
without persons being conscious of the source from
which it comes. The other half has come from a
heart with noble instincts, but cannot stand the sift-
injx examination of the reason. There is no arbiter
provided to decide what we should accept, and what
we should reject. In constructing a rational theol-
ogy, these men, to use an expression of Lessing's,
have constructed an irrational philosophy. The
stratum which promised to be so auriferous is becom-
ing thin, and is ready to crop out to the surface,
and terminate its existence, or at least the hopes
which men entertained recjardinfj it.
To what is the appeal to lie? The old and cold
reason of the antiquated Unitarians? None so ready
as the men of the new school to denounce the heart-
less natural theology of the old rational school.
Every one sees how flickering a light the reason,
in the sense of the logical understanding and the
reasoning process, can throw on the grand problems
of religion, which the heart insists upon having
solved. " Sufficient," as Bacon says, " to convince
of atheism, but not to inform religion."
IS THE APPEAL TO SCIENCE? l6l
To what then is the appeal to be? To science,
say some. To what science? To physical science?
Physical science has its own grand domain, wide
as the telescope or spectroscope can penetrate ; but
among all its atoms, earths, and stars, it discovers
nothing to throw light on the great questions started
as to the relation in which man stands to God, and
the existence of the soul after death. All our wiser
expounders of science confess this. And the scien-
tific school, which is specially guiding these men,
is ever taking pains to show that science should
avoid such questions, as having no light to shed
upon them. A Lecturer in Boston allows that, at
present, science cannot answer the question as to
the immortality of the soul, but " from the future,
not the past, must the light come ; " and he seems to
indicate that it must be " untold years " before it can
come to this. Verily, it is poor consolation to the
mother, mourning over her boy removed by death,
to assure her that, some millions of years hence,
science will settle the question as to whether she
may ever expect to meet her son in another world ;
and science will have to add that all things are
approaching nearer to that cold in which all
life is to perish, to be followed by a conflict and
conflagration in which all things are to be ab-
sorbed.
But the same lecturer hints, and another lecturer
states plainly, that what physical science cannot
establish, what the alleged resurrection of Jesus
cannot prove, may be founded on certain moral
1 62 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
ideas, on a sense of virtue and moral obligadon,
by the faculties which distinguish between right and
wrong. But, meanwhile, they are aware that tiie
school which can generate life, and plants, and
animals, and man, out of star dust, can develop
these ideas, by natural law, out of sensations and
impressions. I believe that we are entitled to appeal
to these ideas in constructing a reasonable religious
conviction. I am sure that the arguments employed
by Mr. Mill and Mr. Bain to undermine these ideas
can be answered, just as the arguments against
final cause can be answered. Along with the traces
of design in the universe, and other first or funda-
mental truths, such as that of cause and effect, these
ideas do conduct us to a belief in God. I am truly
glad to find the most advanced of the Boston school
still cleaving to these grand moral principles.
Finding in these ideas ground on which they feel
that the}' can stand and stay, they may be allured
to look back and retrace their steps. I do hope
this of some of them who are evidently dissatisfied
with their position, and afraid of the termination of
the path on w^hich they have entered. But when
these moral ideas are adopted, they must be consist-
ently followed out. And when they are carried out
logically, when the intimations of conscience and
the sense of sin are carefully looked at and weighed,
they give a very difierent view of God from that
which is taken in the new theology, and tend to
bring them back, and settle them upon the old
foundations.
THE APPEAL TO FAITH. 163
But in the mean time the appeal of these men is to
the faith, to the feelings. But if there be no truth
set before the faith, it may become the weakest
credulity ; and as to the feelings, they may change
quicker than the phases of the fickle moon which
lovers worship, quicker than the winds which are
an emblem of human wishes and passions. If I
dream one way and you dream another, which of
them is a third party to follow? Some are inclined
to believe their own dreams, but few are disposed
to believe the dreams of their neighbors. And so,
in the end, every one will be found to take the way
which his impulse or his fancy or his self-interest
may lead him.
And, as the result of the whole, the party is, at
present, in a state of unrest, discontented with their
position, and quarrelling with one another. An age
ago the old rationalistic party were very self-suffi-
cient, feeling that if they had not the Bible, they
had natural religion to fall back upon. Now they
are m^ade to realize that they cannot be so sure of
their foundation. Men of a devout spirit in the
party of progress, corresponding to the (odne^- aeihfit'foi
mentioned so often in the Book of Acts, are becom-
ing alarmed. The piety which Theodore Parker
did not find in the old Unitarian body has not
appeared in the new body. There are fathers shud-
dering at the thought of bringing up their sons to
such a creed, or, rather, negation of creed : they
have fears that its gossamer threads will not restrain
the youth when flesh and blood are strong and
164 NATURAL THEOLOG7'.
temptations are in the way. Mothers are not sure
that the faith expounded will stay and support their
daughters, and keep them from rushing into and
running round the giddy whirls of pleasure, in which
they are certain to become dizzy and fall. For many
such I have strong hopes that they will be prepared
to move back to the old foundations. And whether
they come up to the full faith which I cherish or no,
my whole soul will be with them in their struggle,
and my pra3er is that they may gain the victory.
But meanwhile the part}^ of Free Thought is
moving on. They are sliding down a steep slope,
catching at times at lumps of yielding earth or brittle
branches, only to find, as they give way, that their
fall is hastened. It writes beautiful papers with
noble thoughts and elevated sentiments, which I
much admire, in the pages of some of our maga-
zines, but with no settled doctrine or logical consist-
ency. It has a literature, and it has lectures, and
men go to hear them who have no ftiith, and who
do not wish to have any, and who would relieve the
dulness of a Sabbath in a city in which Puritanism
has still its influence by listening to fine sentiment
and ingenious speculation, which are more pleasing
to them than preaching about these weary subjects,
sin and salvation. But with all its literary ability,
it has not been able to secure a church organization
or church fellowship : it has not even a rope of
sand ; it has onl}' a ribbon of cloud to bind its mem-
bers. It has discourses, but no united prayers. It
has certainly no God who can or will hear prayer.
PRESENT FEELING OF THE PARTY. 165
I am speaking what I know ; for there are men
and women, young men and maidens, who have so
far opened their hearts to me. And God forbid that
I should look on them with a sulky enmity or a
supercilious pride, as if I had a title to say to them,
"Stand by, for I am holier than thou." Some of
them are feeling as if the foundations are giving
way ; they are too proud to go back, too timid to go
forward, and yet are conscious that they have no
ground to stand on. Most of them know not what
to give up and what to hold, or what they have left.
To my knowledge, there are young hearts WTung
with anguish, till feelings, more bitter than tears,
have been pressed from them without bringing any
relief. With some their voice is a cry like that of
the child coming into the world ; like that of Goethe,
when he left the world, demanding " more light."
With some it is a wail of disappointment, like that
which came from the Hebrews when they looked
into the Ark of the Covenant and saw it empty, the
tables of the law, the pot of manna, and the bud-
ding rod all gone. With some it is a bitterness
against what has deceived the w^orld and deceived
themselves; and it would vent itself in a curse, if
they knew of a God or a devil, against wliom to
direct it. With some it is a feeling of wanton levity,
as if they rejoiced at being delivered from all their
fears, and were able to say, "I have got rid of thee,
O mine enemy ! "
Fortunately or unfortunately, it is the last of its
race ; and, like certain doomed Indian tribes, it feels
l66 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
itself to be so. It is "the last rose of summer left
blooming alone ; " but it must go, for the winter is
coming. Its doom is to be eaten up by a spectral
figure which you may see approaching wdth tirm
and steady step, but with lean and haggard form,
spreading like death a shivering feeling wherever
it goes. I am sorry to be obliged to show^ to these
fair forms w^hich move so gaily what is the doom
awaiting after they have danced a little time longer.
An immense solitary spectre waits :
It has no shape, it has no sound ; it has
No place, it has no time; it is, and was,
And will be; it is never more nor less,
Nor glad nor sad. Its name is Nothingness.
Power walketh high; and misery doth crawl;
And the clepsj'dron drips; and the sands fall
Down in the hour-glass ; and the shadows sweep
Around the dial; and men wake and sleep.
Live, strive, regret, forget, and love, and hate,
And know it. This spectre saith, I wait.
And at the last it beckons and they pass ;
And still the red sands fall within the glass,
And still the shades around the dial sweep;
And still the water-clock doth drip and weep.
And this is all.
This is Positivism. I suppose Diodorus, sur-
named Chronos, the Slow, must have written about
it in ancient times ; for it is recorded of him that he
wrote a treatise on the Awful Nothing and died in
despair. As his work has not come down to us,
I will be obliged to describe it, even though I
should expose m3'self to the sarcasm of the Scytiiian
traveller, Vae ^lantnin Nihili.
PRESENT ERROR. 1 67
POSITIVISM.
I take as representatives of it, M. Comte, Mr.
Mill, and Mr. Herbert Spencer. They have auxil-
iaries in Mr. Grote, Mr. Lewes, Mr. Buckle, Pro-
fessor Bain, Professor Huxley, and others powerful
in particular departments ; but these three may be
held as the ablest defenders of their peculiar prin-
ciples. All agree in this, that man can know noth-
ing of the nature of things ; that he can know
merely phenomena, or relations of things unknown ;
and that all he can do with these is to generalize
them into laws. All agree farther, that it is impos-
sible for us to rise to the knowledge of first or final
causes, and they exert their whole energy in de-
nouncing the attempt to find what they call occult
causes. So far they agree. On other and not
unimportant points they differ. Comte says that all
our knowledge comes through the senses, and that
the study of the mind must be a study of the brain.
Mill says we have other ideas, or rather he would
call them feelings, besides those got through the
senses ; and both he and Herbert Spencer argue
that we can study the mind through self-conscious-
ness. Mill generates all our ideas from sensation,
and feelings springing up in an unknown way by
means of association of ideas, which is capable of
turning them into the varied shapes which they
take. Spencer gets them by development through
long ages, first in the brutes and then in the human
1 68 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
races. Comte, who was largely an impetuous intel-
lectual steam-engine, — he would have said brain-
engine, — takes little or no notice of our ideas of
beauty and morality. Mill derives them from asso-
ciation, giving to association an indefinitely large
power. Spencer ascribes them to development, but
not unfolding what are the powers involved in the
development. Comte is an open and rabid atheist.
Mr. Mill evidently feels that he has no argument
left, on his system, to prove the existence of God,
utters no profession of his faith, and believes that
an atheist may be a man of high piety. Herbert
Spencer argues that beyond known phenomena
there is, and must be, a great unknown ; and he
allots this region to religion, where there ma}^ or
there may not be, an unknown God. Comte is the
most original thinker ; but is, throughout, narrow,
one-sided, dogmatic, moving on in one line like the
blindered horse, or the steam locomotive, seeing
nothing on either side of him. Mill has the wddest
sympathies, and is the most appreciative of the
views of others, though often he is narrow and ex-
clusive, and is not able to follow out his views
consistently. Spencer is the most vigorous specu-
lator of them all; and, like the giants of old, he
would heap Pelion and Pindus, and presumptuously
reach the greatest heights without passing through
the intermediate steps.
M. Comte provided a religion and a worship
for his followers. He had no God, but he had a
" Grand Etre," in Collective Humanity, or "the con-
1
COMTKS SYSTEM OF RELIGION. 169
tinuous resultant of all the forces capable of volun-
tarily concurring in the universal perfectioning of
the world," being in fact a deification of his sys-
tem of science and sociology. In the worship he
enjoined, he has nine sacraments, and a priest-
hood, and public honors to be paid to the Collective
Humanity ; with no public liberty of conscience or
of education in sacred, or, indeed, in any subjects.
The religious observances were to occupy two hours
every day. Mr. Mill tells us, "Private adoration is
to be addressed to Collective Humanity in the per-
sons of worthy individual representatives, who may
be either living or dead, but must in all cases be
women; for women, being the sexe aitnant, rep-
resent the best attribute of humanity, that which
ought to regulate all human life, nor can humanity
possibly be symbolized in any form but that of a
woman. The objects of private adoration are the
mother, the wife, and the daughter, representing
severally the past, the present, and the future, and
calling into active exercise the three social senti-
ments,— veneration, attachment, and kindness. We
are to regard them, whether dead or alive, as our
guardian angels, ' les vrais anges gardiens.' If
the last two have never existed ; or if, in the particu-
lar case, any of the three types is too faulty for the
office assigned it, — their place may be supplied by
some other type of womanly excellence, even by
one merely historical." * The Christian religion
surely does not suffer by being placed alongside of
* Comte and Positivism, p. 150.
S
lyo NATURAL THEOLOGY.
this system, which is one of the two new rehgions
which this century has produced, the other being
Mormonism. The author clunfj more and more
fondly to this faith and ceremonial as he advanced in
years. His English followers are ashamed of it, and
ascribe it to his lunacy ; as if he had not been tinged
with madness (as his poor wife knew) all his life,
and as if his whole system were not the product of a
powerful, but of a constitutionally diseased, intellect.
He denounces his English followers because they
did not adopt his moral and social system ; he char-
acterizes the conversion of those who have adopted
his positivity and rejected his religion as an abor-
tion ; and declares that it must proceed from impo-
tence of intellect, or insufficiency of heart, commonly
from both ! * There is a basis of wisdom in this
complaint. All history shows that man is a relig-
ious, quite as certainly as he is a feeling and a
rational, being. But what has the British school
provided to meet man's religious wants? As 3'et
they have furnished nothing. But Mr. Mill, who
always weighs his words, and who is too skilful a
dialectician to say more than he means, evidently
points to something which is being hatched, and
may some day burst forth. While he has the strong-
est objection to the s^'stem of politics and morals set
forth in the " Politique Positive," he thinks "it has
superabundantly shown the possibility of giving to
the service of humanity, even without the belief in
a Providence, both the psychological power and the
* Politique Positive, Tome I. Pref. p. xv., III. p. 34.
HINTS OF MR. MILL.
171
social efRcac}^ of a religion ; making it take hold
of human life, and color all thought, feeling, and
action in a manner of which the greatest ascendancy
ever exercised by any religion may be but a type
and foretaste."* More specifically in a late work
Mr. Mill sa3^s, that "though conscious of being an
extremely small minority," — a circumstance w4iich
is sure to catch those " individualists " who are bent
on appearing original, — " we venture to think that a
religion may exist without belief in a God, and that
a religion without a God may be, even to Christians,
an instructive and profitable object of contempla-
tion." f He tells us that, in order to constitute a
religion, there must be "a creed or conviction," "a
belief or set of beliefs," "a sentiment connected
with this creed," and a ''culttts." I confess I should
like excessively to see this new religion with its
creed and its cultus fully developed. It would match
the theologies, with their ceremonial observances,
projected by doctrinaires in the heat of the first
French Revolution. There is no risk of the Brit-
ish school setting up a religion and a worship so
superbly ridiculous as that of M. Comte ; but I
venture to predict that when it comes, it will be so
scientifically cold, and so emotionally blank, as to
be incapable of gathering any interest around it, of
accomplishing any good, or, I may add, inflicting
any evil.
The world wall soon be in a position fairly to
estimate M. Comte, who has often been under-
* Utilitarianism, j). 48. f Conitc and Positivism, p. 133.
172 NATURAL TIIEOLOGT.
estimated, and as often over-estimated. At first lit-
tle appreciated by the mass, even of thinkers, he
secured at an early stage the admiration of a select
few, who discerned the vigor of his intellect and
saw the partial truth which his system contained,
or who were subdued by his dogmatic spirit and
power of assertion : these men spoke of him in
exaggerated terms, and compared him to Bacon
and to Leibnitz. His direct influence has all along
been very small, being confined to those who had
the courage to read through his ponderous volumes,
in which most had to confess with Mr. Huxley : "I
found the veins of ore few and far between, and the
rock so apt to run to mud, that one incurred the
risk of being intellectually smothered in the work-
ing." But his indirect influence, through eminent
men who followed his method and caught his spirit,
has been very great. However, the time of reac-
tion against him and his exclusive pretensions seems
to have come. Sir John Herschel showed, twenty
years ago, that he was guilty of mathematical blun-
ders which would have disgraced any student seek-
ing for honors in Cambridge. And now his friends
are turning out to be his bitterest foes. Mr. Mill
cannot express in too strong language his abhor-
rence of his system of social organization, which
admits of no liberty of action, or even of thought and
conscience. Mr. Spencer has criticised severely
his much lauded generalization of the progress of
knowledge, which is said to be first theological, then
metaphysical, then positive, showing that it is full
ESTIMATE OF COMTE. 173
of error and confusion. And now Professor Huxley
tells us : '■ That part of M. Comte's writings which
deals with the philosophy of physical science ap-
peared to me to possess singularly little value, and
to show that he had but the most superficial, and
merely second-hand, knowledge of most branches
of what is usually understood by science. I do not
mean by this merely that Comte was behind our
present knowledge, or that he was unacquainted
with the details of the science of his own day. No
one could justly make such defects cause of com-
plaint in a philosophical writer of the past genera-
tion. What struck me was his want of apprehension
of the great features of science, his strange mistakes
as to the merits of his scientific contemporaries, and
his ludicrously erroneous notions about the part
which some of the scientific doctrines, current in his
time, were destined to play in the future."* Every
man, after being buffeted about — it may be — in
this world, will at last find his level. These men are
placing M. Comte somewhat lower than I do. But
it is a question for them to settle. These criticisms
show that the day of M. Comte is fast declining.
* "Laj Sermons," p. 164. Mr. Huxley thinks that there is
some value in "the chapters on speculative and practical sociol-
ogy." But this is not just the department in which Mr. Huxley
is an authority. I am reminded of a story told by Hugh Miller
of a company of savans who were discussing the merits of the
"Vestiges of Creation," then newly published. The naturalist
was sure that it was full of bad natural history, but believed
that the astronomy was good; while the natural philosopher
had heard that the geology was good, but knew that the astron-
omy was incorrect, &c.
174 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
But \\\\\ the other members of the school have a
longer day, or even so long? So far as they have
advanced any branch of natural science, of history,
or of political economy, their nam.es will live, and
go down with their discoveries to future generations.
But it is the mistake of these men, that because they
are eminent in some one or two branches of science,
say natural history or geolog}', they are therefore
fitted to speculate on all the sciences, on the whole
history and destiny of mankind, and to settle or un-
settle for ever all the questions bearing on the rela-
tions of the universe to its Maker. For this work,
some of them seem to me to have no aptitude and no
calling. I am sure that, in the wide fields of theol-
ogy and philosophy, they are as ignorant as Comte
was in the domains of mathematics and experimental
science. Their generalizations here have a rash-
ness which would not be tolerated for one instant in
the special fields of science in which they have
made discoveries. The time is not far oft' when
they, too, will come to their level, which will be con-
siderably lower than their present eminence.
In my early Lectures in this series, I met their
fundamental principles. It is possible that some
have felt that in these I dwelt too much on certain
abstract points about knowledge and existence.
But I did it of design. I had powerful antagonists
to meet, and I had to prepare my weapons with
care. I labored to show that the mind begins its
intelligent acts with knowledge, a knowledge of
things. I have no objection to call it a knowledge
li'Ai' TO MEET POSITIVISM. 175
of phenomena; but, by phenomena in that case, I
mean not phenomena apart from things, which is a
mere abstraction, but things as appearing. The
mind knows relations, but not relations between
things unknown, which is impossible, but relations
between things known so far known. Beginning
with knowledge, what it reaches by generalization
is also knowledge, and a knowledge of realities.
Beginning with intuitive knowledge, it adds to it by
logical processes ; and what it gains is also knowl-
edge. Its intuitive power is confined within very
stringent limits. In particular, it has no a -priori
forms to impose on things. It does not override
experience. It simply gives us a certain knowledge
of things. Its main office is to enable us to gain
experience, and to assure us that the knowledge we
thus gain is of real things. Mr. Mill, proceeding
on a different theor}', declares — and his theory
requires him to do so — that there may be worlds
in which two and two make five, in which parallel
lines meet, in which a straight line may return upon
itself and enclose a space, and in which there may be
effects without a cause. In all this he is consistent :
it is the logical consequence of his theory. And
you can meet him only by undermining his theory.
This is what I endeavored to do in previous Lect-
ures. On his principles, you cannot prove the
existence of God, just as you cannot prove that two
and two make four in the planet Jupiter, or that a
straight line may not enclose a space in the constel-
ladon Orion. For aught that this theory can say to
176 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
the contrary, it may be an accepted axiom in the
universities of the Dog Star that parallel lines may
and must meet if prolonged sufficiently far, and not
coming in the way of a little planet called Earth —
seen by a telescope of monster power — where a
small mortal called man says, in his ignorance, that
parallel lines cannot meet. I admit that if we cannot
prove that two and two make four everywhere, we
may also be unable to prove that every effect has a
cause, or that this world has had a cause. But if,
as Aristotle says, a man's mind is organized to dis-
cover truth, and truth be not beyond his reach, then
I hold that we are entitled to say that in all times
and in every place two and two make four, and a
thing effected implies a power effecting it, and that
the existence of benevolent affections in man implies
benevolence in Him who planted them there, and
that the Moral Law in the heart implies a Moral
Governor. The spectroscope directed to that star,
which takes a hundred thousand years to send its
light to the earth, tells us that these effects could
not be produced on the instrument, unless there
were hydrogen and sodium in that star ; and I am
constrained to believe, on the principle of cause and
effect, that it speaks the truth. And when I discover
that beautiful adjustment in the eye which enables
it to receive light from that distant star, I am as
sure that there has been a designing mind construct-
ing it, as I am that there has been an intelligence
planning and making that spectroscope. These
same principles that entitle us to argue that there
CONSEQUENCES OF POSITIVISM. 177
is a God authorize us to say that we so far know that
God, — the adequate cause of the effects we per-
ceive, the source of that power we feel in ourselves
and see exhibited on the earth, the fountain of that
benevolence from which our affections flow as petty
rills, the authority from which the moral power in
us derives its authority.
Having examined the theory, I believe fairly and
logically, we may now- look for a moment at its con-
sequences, speculative, moral, and practical. What
have WQ left according to this new^ philosophy?
We have a series of feelings aware of itself and
permanent, or rather prolonged ; and we have an
association of sensations, and perceived resem-
blances and possibilities of sensations. Truth can be
nothing more than an accordance of our ideas wdth
sensations and laws of the association of sensations ;
which sensations come we know not w^hence, and
are associated by resemblances existing we know
not how^ ; or more frequently by contiguity, with no
relation of reason, with no connection in the nature
of things, and being very possibly altogether fortui-
tous or absolutely fatalistic. The sensations and
associations of sensation generate ideas and beliefs
which do not, however, either in themselves or their
mode of formation, generate any reality. This is
the consequence on Mr. Mill's theory ; and on Mr.
Spencer's it is development out of a tiling unknown,
according to an absolute fatalism. And is this the
sum of what has been gained by the highest science
of the nineteenth century? Can this satisfy the
178 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
wants of the soul seeking" truth, yearning for reality,
seeking for light as plants do in the dark cellar, and
striving towards it, being sure that it exists and is
to be found? Does it not undermine every belief
in goodness, in affection, in beauty, and in truth, to
which men have ever clung? Does it not leave the
soul as the moon is supposed to be left, and as
some think the earth will be ultimately left, with
its rocks, its extinct volcanoes, but without atmos-
phere, without water, without life? Diodorus the
Slow, after writing his profound treatise on the
Awful Nothing, died in despair ; and, deprived of
all their deepest instincts and highest hopes, I feel
as if there was nothing left for those who accept
this theory of nescience but to do the same.
This, then, is the gulf to which we have come.
It is as well that young men entering on the path
should know what is the swamp in which it termi-
nates. Some who have gone so far will draw back.
But they will not fall back upon the icy crystals
constructed by Channing, or the melted snow of
Parker and Emerson. Yet they cannot stand where
they now do. If they do not draw back, they must
go forward ; and they will find that, beneath this
deep, there is a lower deep still. This deep is
Materialism, which I mean to examine in my next
Lecture.
VII.
Materialism. — Circumstances favoring it. — Parts of
THE Body most intimately connected avith Mental
Action. — Grosser and more Refined Forms of Ma-
terialism. — BiJCHNER, Maudesley, Bain, Huxley,
Tyndall, Spencer. — Objections to Materialism. —
Mind not one of the Correlated Physical Forces.
TN my last Lecture I gave a sketch of the progress
of Free Thought in this country, and showed
that it is tending to sink towards Positivism, But
this negative philosophy cannot last any great length
of time. Persons cannot live long, for they cannot
breathe, in a vacuum. A terrible wind will rush in
to fill up the void when it begins to be felt. If men's
heads do not discover the fallacy, their hearts will
turn away trom the emptiness. But, meanwhile,
the movement has its course to run ; and, as it does
so, it will freeze, by its coldness, much blood at the
heart, which would otherwise be felt vitally in every
member of the frame and go forth in practical
activity ; nay, as it is dragged along, it may crush
much life under its Juggernaut wheels. Betore it
closes its course it must assume another form : it
will become a prevailing Materialism.
A number of concurring circumstances favor this
tendency. Thus our young thinkers have come
l8o NATURAL THEOLOGY.
to see the utter futility of the whole a priori philos-
ophy of the age now passing away, and are pre-
pared for a reaction, in which the ebb will be as
strong as the previous tide. It has ever been the
great error and sin of the speculative rational phi-
losophy that it has been expending its strength in
building up in one age ingenious theories which
the next age proceeds to take down. This has
produced the sentiment first expressed by Less-
ing, and so extensively adopted in the present day :
" It is not truth which makes man worthy, but the
striving after truth. If God in his right hand held
every truth, and in his left hand the one inward
impulse after truth, although with the condition that
I should err for ever, and bade me choose, I would
humbly incline to his left, saying, O Father, give
me that : pure Faith is for thee alone." There is
a wide-spread idea, favored very much by the way
in which the department has been taught, that phi-
losophy is at best a mere gymnastic, exercising the
faculties, but not capable of revealing truth ; and
people say that whatever may have been the need
and the use of such Indian clubs and parallel bars
in the Middle Ages, we do not require them now,
when we have such pleasant open-air exercise in
the natural sciences, which do reveal truth. Will
men continue to search after truth when it has been
discovered, and is allowed, that truth cannot be
found? The father, in the fable, got his sons to dig
in the field in the hope of finding a treasure : but
they would not have done this, had they thought
EXCLUSIVE STUDY OE PHYSICS. i8l
there was no treasure ; and I am sure they would not
have been led by like motives to dig a second field.
Such dialectic activity wastes the energy, without in-
creasing the strength. He who thus fights is like one
beating the air ; and his exertion ends not in bracing
and exhilaration, but in weariness and restlessness.
The bird which has been bulletin g- the wind on the
wild waste of the ocean will alight on the first bare
rock or mast-top it falls in with. Persons who have
been cheated by those who promised to give them
every thing, but really gave them nothing, will be
ready to trust the first man who bestows on them
ever so small a boon. So there are youths in our
day, who, feeling as if metaphysics could give them
nothing, are occupying themselves exclusively with
the baldest ph3^sics.
Then, there is the exclusive study of the material
sciences in so many of our educational institutions.
I say exclusive, not extensive ; for I rejoice in the
extensive study of natural science, and believe that
every settled branch of knowledge should have a
place in every academic institution. But if we w'ould
not produce a one-sided — that is, a malformed — set
of minds, we must have other studies mingled with
them. In this country, a Bachelor's Degree, which
used to mean that the youth was a scholar with
varied accomplishments in literature, and in mental
as well as natural science, can now be had with
little or no knowledge of mind or its laws. I rejoice
in the establishment of medical schools, and the
multiplication of scientific schools ; but steps should
l82 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
be taken to secure that in these there also be
instruction in branches fitted to cultivate and refine
the taste, and that our young men be reminded
that they have souls, which they are very apt to
forget when their attention is engrossed with the
motions of stars or the motions of molecules, with
the flesh, the bones, the brain. The cry of the
times is for what they call practical studies to pre-
pare young men for life ; but fathers may find that
their sons, after all, are not just prepared for life
with its temptations, when they have no instruction in
the duties they owe to their own souls- and to God.
The result of all this is the creation of a certain
spirit. For there is such a thing as the spirit of the
age, — such a thing as the spirit of a college, more
powerful than the influence of all teachers. There
are susceptible youths who catch the spirit of the
times, as lake waters take the hue of the sky above,
or as worms take the dye of the herbage they feed
on. Just as there was a great run two ages ago
towards rationalism, and an age ago towards intui-
tionalism, so there is a corresponding set of youths
in our day w^ho will become Comtists, or Millites,
or Spencerites, or even Huxley ites : the demand
will create the supply ; and they will find able men
to lead them on over the dreary plain strewn with
the skeletons of those who have there wandered
and perished.
Any observant man may see the tide sweeping
along. Materialism was a prevailing creed in
France during the whole period of the repression
MATERIALISM IN EUROPE. 1 83
of thought under the regime of Louis Napoleon, and
was veiy agreeable to the doni-inonde which ruled
the manners and morals of Paris, and prepared the
way for the present humiliation of that country.
" Vive la Materialisme " has been shouted from a
number of their schools of medicine at their open-
ings and public exhibitions. In Germany, theology
is becoming orthodox in the theological Faculties,
and a high philosophy has still a place in some of
the universities ; but, for a number of years, mate-
rialism has had a considerable acceptance among a
set of able physiologists, among medical men and
schoolmasters. In England, there are a thousand
influences opposing it in the religion of the country,
in the moral tone long sustained among the people,
and become hereditary : but there is an active
school of philosophy exercising a power over the
young men, soon to become the influential men of
the country ; and this is strongly set in current
towards sensationalism and positivism, which are
certain to end in materialism. There are like
agencies resisting the entrance and the progress
of the materialistic school in this country, and the
higher Unitarians heartily unite at this point with
the Evangelicals ; but still there are underground
rumblings, which show that an earthquake is at
hand, in the predilections of some of our physical
inquirers and medical schools, sure to be favored by
and to find acceptance with the votaries of pleasure,
increasing among us with our wealth, and more
rapidly than our wealth.
184 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
This materialism will require to be met. In
meeting it, it will be proper to begin with admitting
that there is a close and intimate connection in this
present state of things between mind and body.
This has been all along seen and allowed by the
most determined spiritualists. Man does not con-
sist of mind alone : he consists of soul and body.
This is all that modern physiology has established,
throwing a little, and only a little, light upon it ; no,
not on the connection between soul and body, but
on the bodily organs most intimately connected
with mental action.
It is shown that in the animal body there is an
Automatic System, consisting of ganglia with re-
ticulated nerves, some fibres of which conduct tow-
ards the centre, others outwards from the ganglia to
muscles : an impression made upon the former, the
afferent fibres, conducted inward to the centre, is
followed by an action outward through afferent
nerves, resulting in motion. Thus, on pricking the
leg of a frog, there is an action from the periphery
to the centre of the ganglion, and again an action
outwards, and the leg is drawn in. These ganglia
serve most important purposes in the lower animals,
as in bees and articulated animals generally, where
they carry on the motions of the creature. But they
are found also in man. They run along the spinal
cord, and there is no scientific proof — though some
allege that there is — that their action is accompa-
nied with sensation or with will. It has always
appeared to me that we may justifiabl}" discover final
SENSORI-MOTOR STSTEM. 185
cause in this complicated arrangement for enabling
the lower creatures, and even human beings, to per-
form certain needful motions, without the effort and
the labor of the reason and the will. All this is
evidently a mere organic apparatus, and we do not
discover in it any manifestation of mental action.
It is shown that there is a Sensori-Motor appa-
ratus. Here we have no will, but we have sensation.
Thus, in sneezing and coughing, the act is not vol-
untary ; but we feel it. We have examples of the
same kind in the quick withdrawal of the hand
when it is touched with a hot iron ; in the cry which
excessive pain calls forth ; in the distortion of the
face on account of an offensive taste or smell ; in
the closing of the eyes when a strong light falls on
them ; and in the start produced by a loud sound.
Under the same head may be placed the marvellous
adjustment of the human eye to the distance of
objects, effected by a change in the convexity of the
lens or cornea, together with an alteration in the
direction of the axes of the eyes. This, too, is a
beautiful provision for the convenience and comfort
of the creature, whereb}^ many necessary acts are
performed without any labor of the will. Except
in regard to the sensation felt, — in the thalanii
o^iici, as some think, — there is no special mental
action or affection.
But in the higher animals there is a farther pro-
vision. Above the automatic process in the spinal
cord, above the sensorv centre, at the base of the
brain are the two Cerebral Hemispheres. These
1 86 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
brain hemispheres have no sensation : they can be
pared oft' without any pain being felt. They can-
not produce motion directly : they can do so only by
acting directly, or indirectly, through the motor
nerves upon the muscular system. We are now in
the close proximity of proper mental action. We
have come to the seat of memory, of intellect, and
of will. The brain is composed of a gray matter
and a white matter. Of these the gra}' substance
is most intimately connected with mental action.
That gray matter may be seen upon the surface of
the two hemispheres of the brain, and exists in the
shape of minute cells. It may be allowed that
the operations of the intellect are intimately con-
nected with the minute cells of the cortical layers.
Without the concurrence of those cells, or rather
perhaps of the forces operating in them, and which
they direct, there can be no healthy intellectual
action. They supply something which, as a con-
cause, is necessary to mental action. When they
are deranged, the operations of the mind are apt to
be deranged. It may be farther allowed that there
is a general, though by no means an invariable,
correspondence between the size of the hemispheres,
and still more the convolution of the hemispheres,
and the intellectual strength. So far physiology
can carry us. This is the form which the old ex-
pression of the connection between mind and body
should take in our day, — a dependence of intellect
and will on the cortical layers and contained cells
and forces of the brain hemispheres. But physi-
CONNECTION OF BODY AND MIND. 187
ology can go no farther. " So exquisitely delicate,
however," says Dr. Maudesley, "are the organic
processes of mental development which take place
in the minute cells of the cortical layers, that they
are certainly, so far as our present means of inves-
tigation reach, quite impenetrable to the senses :
the mysteries of their secret operations cannot be
unravelled." *
So the question remains where it was before.
All this amounts to nothing more than the old state-
ment that in the present order of things mind is so
far dependent on the bodily organism. Professor
Tyndall is candidly confessing the truth, when he
savs, "The problem of the connection of soul and
body is as insoluble in its modern form as it was in
the pre-scientific ages." It may be maintained, with
great show of reason, that the brain-case is the
mere instrument of the mind to enable it to perform
its function, even as the automatic system is an
apparatus to enable the animal to move, and the
sensori-motor system is a process to warn it of
danger. From all this it does not follow that the
cell, or cell-power, constitutes thought. It does not
tend to show that the physical power which circu-
lates in the cell becomes in the cell an idea, or
recollection, or feeling, or moral approbation, or
will. It may be, after all, the mere organ by which
the mind communicates with the body, and through
the body with the external world. No one is enti-
tled to say that the brain, or the forces in it, generate
* Phvs. & Path, of Mind, p. 124.
l88 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
mind. It might be nearer the truth to affirm that
mental action forms the gray substance, and forms
it to suit its purposes. Certain it is, that intellec-
tual exercise enlarges the brain and makes it more
convoluted, and gives it greater capacity and apti-
tude.
I must endeavor to furnish a sketch of the forms
which Materialism has assumed of late years. First,
I must refer to its grosser shapes. They are
scarcely worthy of being noticed before such an
audience as this, for their enormous fallacies will at
once be seen. Still, it is necessary to state them,
and so far expose them ; for these are, after all, the
forms in which the doctrine is held by the great
body of materialists. It is thus that it is presented
to our young men, to medical students, and others.
And this is the common sewer into which the finer
forms, which may amuse refined minds for a time,
must ultimately flow. They are expressed in the
brief sentence of Cabanis, that " the brain secretes
thought as the liver secretes bile." Coming to our
day, we find Vogt adopting this statement :
" Thoup-ht stands in the same relation to the brain
as bile to the liver." Moleschott says that " thought
is a motion of matter." We may take, as represent-
ative of this school, Biichner, whose work, "Force
and Matter," has been translated into English, and
circulated widely in Great Britain and America.
No doubt his work is very superficial, but it is
relished all the more by multitudes who do not wish
to be troubled with deep philosophical discussions.
BUCHNER. 189
And then he is clear and outspoken and dogmatic,
uttering his dicta as if they could not be disputed.
^ The soul is the product of a peculiar combination
of matter." — "In the same manner as the steam en-
gine produces motion, so does the organic compli-
cation of force-endowed materials produce, in the
animal body, a sum of effects so interwoven as to
become a unit, and is then by us called spirit." —
"As there is no bile without liver, so there is no
thought without brain." But he thinks that this
comparison gives a greater permanence to mind
than it is entitled to. "The secretion of the liver
and kidneys proceeds imperceptibly, and produces a
tangible substance." It is different with thought as
the product of the brain. "Mental activity is a
function of the cerebral substance." — "It is emitted
by the brain as sounds are by the mouth, as music is
by the organ," and so has no such perm.anence as
the bile has. It is a breath which exists as long
as the lungs act, but which vanishes when they
cease to play. Of this doctrine it may be said that
it does not require any stretch of mind to understand
it. The organ plays and produces music, the music
of Mozart and Beethoven ; the brain plays and pro-
duces the thought, the thoughts of Shakspeare and
Newton. This settles every thing, and avoids all
troublesome questions. And, as the brain does not
play after death, so there is no proof that there is
any mind existing after the dissolution of the body.
"To sleep! perchance to dream; — ay, there's the rub."
ipo NATURAL THEOLOGY.
But "this " rub " is polished off, for when the brain
is dissolved in dust the power of dreaming is gone ;
and the most wicked, the most fleshl}^ materialist,
who has seduced one fair virgin after another, need
not be troubled with any fear as to the second death,
or the worm that never dies, for there is no worm
but the worm that feeds on the body, and it dies
when it has fed on the body and reduced it to cor-
ruption. Blichner quotes, with a feeling of protbund
admiration, the saying of the dissolute Mirabeau :
" Death is an eternal sleep."
I defer to a later part of my Lecture the argu-
ments against Materialism in every form. But I
cannot avoid the exposure of this weak theory when
it is before us. We can comprehend how the liver
produces bile out of itself and the matter with
which it comes in contact : the bile is the result of
the liver and the matter brought to the liver, and,
no doubt, partakes of the nature of both, — is, in
fact, the old agents in a new form. The liver has
acted on the matter, and bile is the result. But when
the soft, pulpy substance, the brain, is supposed to
produce thought, there is surely a process of a dif-
ferent kind. There is something in the effect
which is not in the cause, nor in any of the constit-
uents of the brain, nor in all the constituents put
together. " Without phosphorus, no thought," is
one of the axioms of tiie school. Later and more
careful inquiry seems to show that phosphorus is not
so intimately connected with thought as physiolo-
gists have been accustomed to say ; but if phospho-
MA UDESLE T. 1 9I
rus could produce thought, — say the rapt visions
of Isaiah or Milton, — it would be a cause producing
an etTect not in itself, altogether unlike itself.
The other illustration, that from the organ pro-
ducing music, is more plausible for Biichner's pur-
pose, as it might seem as if the music were so unlike
the instrument from which it comes. But we have
only to determine precisely what it is that the organ
produces, to find the loose analogy entirely to fail.
What the organ produces is simply an orderly mo-
tion. The vibrations in the tubes, excited by the
performer, produce a certain motion in the air which
comes to our ear. This is really all that is done by
the organ : it is a vibration in the instrument, pro-
ducing a vibration in the external air. As to what
follows — the pleasant sensation in the ear, and the
swelling emotions in the mind, of sympathy, sor-
row, joy, or admiration, — these are the product,
not of the organ, but of a highly organized ear, and
a finely strung mind. The motion in the organ,
producing motion in the air, is certainly no evi-
dence that the brain can o-enerate thought.
I now turn to a much more refined writer. Dr.
Maudesley has evidently considerable literar}^ abil-
ity : he has read and he appreciates Goethe and
poets generally, specially those of the more sen-
suous school. He has been resident physician of
the Manchester Royal Lunatic Hospital, and has
studied the causes of insanity. He believes that
mental insanity arises from pathological disturb-
ances,— in short, from bodilv causes; and he has
192 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
evidently searched these with care, and has brought
under our notice, in his " Physiology and Pathology
of Mind," a curious set of phenomena, illustrating
the influence of a diseased brain upon the operations
of the mind. But he has been guilty of the inex-
cusable blunder of supposing that when he has
stated these things, commonly without offering any
explanation of them, he has explained the whole
phenomena of the mind. He is like one who would
speculate on the whole constitution of Great Britain
or the United States, after having made himself
acquainted with the cases that come before a police
court. In his " Body and Mind," being Lectures
delivered before the Royal College of Physicians,
he studiously leaves on the minds of his medical
hearers the impression that because he can explain
certain morbid affections of the mind by bodily
causes, especially at the critical periods of life,
therefore he can account, by physiological proc-
esses, for the production of all our ideas, senti-
ments, beliefs, and judgments.
He is for ever denouncing the old metaphysics,
and all who would study the mind by self-conscious-
ness, or internal observation. "Psychology cannot,
in fact, be truly inductive, unless it is studied objec-
tively ; " that is, physiologically, in the brain and
nervous system. He acknowledges, "No one pre-
tends that physiology can, for many years to come,
furnish the complete data of a positive mental
science : all that it can at present do is to over-
throw the data of a false psychology." I agree
CHARGE AGAINST CONSCIOUSNESS. 193
with him that physiology has not been able to con-
struct a mental science ; and I believe it will never
be able to do so, — though it may, and I believe
will, greatly aid those who examine the mind by
self-consciousness. But he thinks it has undermined
the views entertained by those attached to the old
psychology. In particular, he thinks that he can
show that self-consciousness deceives. This is a bold
attempt, and has seldom been made by any phi-
losopher. David Hume himself was too shrewd
to try to cast doubts on the veracity of conscious-
ness. Dr. Maudesley's charges of falsity against
self-consciousness proceed on an entire misappre-
hension of the nature of the testimony which it
gives. He makes the witness lie, only by pervert-
ing his declarations and making him say what he
never said. "Consciousness can never be a valid
and unprejudiced witness ; for although it testifies
to the existence of a particular mental modification,
yet, when that modification has any thing of a mor-
bid character, consciousness is affected by the taint
and is morbid also. Accordingly, the lunatic ap-
peals to the evidence of his own consciousness for
the truth of his hallucination or delusion, and insists
that he has as sure evidence of its reality as he has
of the argument of any one who may try to con-
vince him of his error ; and is he not right from a
subjective stand-point? To one who has vertigo
the world turns round." — " Is it not supremely ridic-
ulous that, while we cannot trust consciousness, as
to whether we are hot or cold, we should be content
9
194 NATURAL theologt:
to rely entirely on its evidence in the complex phe-
nomena of our hifrhest mental activity?"* This
whole statement proceeds on so entire a misappre-
hension of the testimony given by self-conscious-
ness, that the student of philosophy who would fall
into it in any of our American colleges would
infallibly be rejected at an examination. Self-con-
sciousness does not profess to reveal what is passing
without us, but what is passing within ; it tells us
when we feel cold that we do feel cold ; but cer-
tainly does not say at what point the thermometer
stands. It testifies, and this truly, that the lunatic
imagines that he sees a figure, but does not say
whether this figure is a realit}^ or a spectre. In
trying to prove that consciousness deceives, Dr.
Maudesley has onl}^ shown that he has been deceived
himself, and is seeking to deceive us, by an entire
misapprehension of what consciousness says.
He has thus failed, utterly and palpably, in show-
ing that consciousness is a liar. The greatest scep-
tics have allowed that we must trust consciousness.
And so we will trust it, notwithstanding Dr. Maudes-
ley's allegations against it. And there is one point
on which consciousness speaks, and speaks authori-
tatively, and will allow no man to think or believe
otherwise. It declares clearly and unequivocall}^
that man is a pc?'son, a distinct person, — distinct
from all other persons and all other objects, — dis-
tinct from the nerves and cells of the brain. It
declares, too, — with the aid of memory, — that there
* Physiology and Pathology of Mind, p. 25.
UNITY OF THE SOUL.
195
is a unity and identity of person, that I am the
same to-day as I was yesterday, — the same now as
I was as far back as memory can go. It asserts of
itself, amid all shiftiness of surrounding circum-
stances, amid all changes in the body or in the
brain, that it is one and the same. Whatever else
is true, this is and must be true ; and we cannot be
made to believe or think otherwise.
Dr. Maudesley sets himself determinedly against
the doctrine of the unity of the soul. It is a unity
only as a house is one, as a tree is one. A house is
one onl}' by the collocation of its several parts, —
timbers, nails, and slates : a tree is one only by the
co-operation of its component elements and mem-
bers. So the soul is one only by the combination
and co-operation of the brain-cells, and is in fact
composed of essentially difierent elements, or parts,
which shift from year to year, — in fact, from moment
to moment ; and its whole unity may be dissolved
by the dissolution of the brain-cells, which are its
constituents. It is vain to expect an immortality
for such a soul when the parts are separated by the
death of the body ; in fact, any unity which it has
in this life is altogether fictitious and delusive.
Now, in all this, Dr. Maudesley is opposing an
intuitive conviction of the mind as to the unity and
personality of self, which is far more certain than
any truth he has been able to establish by ph3^sio-
logical investigation. This conviction at once sets
aside — I do not say any physiological fact — but
the perversely wrong inferences which he has
196 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
drawn from his facts, by refusing to combine the
evidence of self-consciousness with the evidence
got from the senses.
Dr. Maudesle}^ identifies the brain-cells, and the
forces operating in them, with mental operations.
Somehow or other (he is at no pains to tell us how)
the action produced in the body by external ob-
jects — say by a rose or lily before us — goes up into
the brain-case with its cells, and there becomes
thoughts, fancies, feelings. Then he has a theory
about these ideas and feelings leaving behind them
certain 7'csidtia, which become organized in the
nervous centres. These residua play, with him, a
very important part ; in fact, come to constitute the
Ego, to constitute what is permanent in mind. The
whole process of manufacturing ideas in this brain
work-shop becomes, with him, a very simple one.
See how easily they appear, — as easily as sheets
from a paper mill : "As in reflex action of the spinal
cord, the residual force, which was over and above
what passed directly outwards in the reaction, trav-
elled upwards to the scnsormin coinnmne and excited
sensation ; and as in sensori-motor action the resid-
ual force, which was over and above what passed
outwards in the reaction, travelled up to the cortical
cells, and gave rise to an idea : so in ideational
action [that is, the formation of ideas] the force
which does not pass, or the residual force which
may be over and above what does pass immediately
outwards in the reaction, abides in action in the cor-
tical centres, and passes therein from cell to cell."
BRAIN-CELLS AND THOUGHT. 197
Thus he makes " the formation of an idea an organic
process." It is strange that so accomplished a man
does not see what unfilled-up gaps there are in this
theoretical process. A man has before him the
grave of Washington. There is a mound of earth
with grass upon it : rays of light come from it, and
form an image on the retina of the eye, which raises
an action in the optic nerve. This is all the length
that the physiologist can trace it. But Dr. Maudes-
ley can carry it up to the brain-cells, and turn it
into an idea of the mound of earth and grass ; can
make it declare that this is a grave, and Washing-
ton's grave ; and then become a thought of his calm,
unerring judgment, and his disinterested patriotism,
— all by a current which, while it travels on, finds
that it is stajed, and, as it is stayed, finds that what
"does not pass, or the residual force which may be
over and above," becomes an idea of Washington's
grave, and Washington himself, and his military
and administrative skill, with an admiration of his
unselfish character and high aims. When sheets
of paper come out of the paper-mill, we have only
what was potentially in the rags, with the water and
the other matters employed to purify them ; but here
we have rays of light, that is, vibrations of air reach-
ing the eye, and these come out the approbation of
duty and of goodness. Verily, this beats the most
astonishing trick ever performed by necromancer,
when he turns a rod into a serpent ; or by juggler,
when he puts in a piece of cloth into a bag and it
becomes an ^^,^,1 or puts in an ^^^^^ and brings out a
1 98 NATURAL THEOLOGl'.
fowl. People trained in a rigid, inductive logic will
insist tliat there must be steps in this process which
he has kept out of sight ; that there is a wide interval
between a residual physical force left in cells, and
the idea of consistency of character, and singleness
of purpose, and beneficence of intention. Yet this
is the cool way in which he forms our ideas, even
the highest : " The cells of the central ganglia do in
reality idealize [that is, form ideas out of] the sen-
sory perceptions, grasping what is essential in them,
and suppressing or rejecting the unessential : they
mould them by their plastic faculty into the organic
unity of an idea, in accordance with fundamental
law^s." I w^ould like to know how brain-cells should
know what is " essential " in Washington's charac-
ter, and reject the " unessential." It all takes place
"in accordance with fundamental laws;" but these
laws are of a very different kind from those of gan-
glia and cells : they are, in fact, mental and not
material laws. He might do well to attend to the
more scientific statement of Professor T3-ndall : " I
do not think that the materialist is entitled to say
that his molecular grouping and his molecular mo-
tions explain every thing. In reality, they explain
nothing. The utmost he can aflirm is the associa-
tion of the two classes of phenomena, of whose real
bond of union he is in absolute ignorance. The
problem of the connection of soul and body is as
insoluf.le in its modern form as it was in the pre-
scientific ages."
We now turn to a higher school of materialists,
ACTIVITY OF MATTER. 1 99
who will not, for various reasons, let themselves be
called materialists, not only from the unhappy asso-
ciations of the name, but from profounder reasons.
Some of them will not allow themselves to be so
denominated because they do not take the gross
views of matter which are generally entertained.
We have found Professor Tyndall referring to this
when he finds a difficulty in getting mind out of star
dust. JNIatter, say the whole of the school I am now
referring to, is something vastly higher in itself than
what it is supposed to be in the popular apprehen-
sions gendered by religious prejudices, which repre-
sent the body and matter as altogether inert and
vile and despicable. Matter, they show, has high
qualities : it has immense, indeed immeasurable,
acdvit}^ and loft}^ powers of attraction and repul-
sion and assimiladon ; and they hint, if they do not
assert, that it may have the power of fashioning
ideas and pronouncing judgments, moral and intel-
lectual. Now I admit freely that matter is not that
inert substance which it has often been represented
as beinef. Matter has essential activities : its atoms
and its worlds are in a state of continu-al motion.
The earth, sun, and moon, and stars are all flying
through space with incredible velocity ; and within
every piece of earth, stone, and wood, there is as
constant a motion of the particles as there is of the
planets in their orbits, or of bees in the hive. Every
change of heat in the temperature of a room makes
a change in the internal structure of every object in
it. I give up the idea of matter being passive. And
20O NATURAL THEOLOGY.
I repudiate the idea that our bodies are only the
sources of evil, and to be despised. This notion came
from certain Eastern theosophists, and was adopted
by certain Christian mystics, and sanctioned by the
Church in the ages when monasticism prevailed ;
but is not countenanced in Scripture, which repre-
sents the body as one of the constituents of man,
which gives Christ a body, and unites soul and
body at the resurrection, in order to enjoy full frui-
tion. I do not seek to lower or disparage the capac-
ities of body. I believe it has properties many and
various. But there is no proof that thinking is one
of these properties. We have seen in Lecture IV.,
first, that we know body and mind by different
organs : we know body by the senses ; we know
mind by self-consciousness. We cannot perceive
mind, or thought, or moral sentiment, by the eye,
the ear, the touch, or any of the senses. And then,
secondly, we know them as possessing different
properties. We know body as extended in three
dimensions, and resisting our energy and the en-
trance of another body into the same space. But
we do not know mind as having length, breadth,
and thickness, and as either penetrable or impene-
trable. Again, we know mind as perceiving,
judging, reasoning, desiring, willing, and we do
not know matter as exercising these qualities. As
knowing them thus by different organs, and as dif-
ferent in themselves, if there are any who hold them
to be the same, the burden of proof must lie on
them. And they cannot prove this by so spiritual-
SPIRITUALIZING OF BOD 2'. 20I
izing matter as to make it discharge the functions
of mind. However ethereahzed, matter is still mat-
ter, still occupies space, still resists our energy, has
bulk and shape, can be weighed and measured ;
and there is no proof that it can form ideas, — say
the ideas of the true, the beautiful, and the good.
In fact, those who profess thus to spiritualize mat-
ter so as to make it capable of performing mental
operations, so as to make it capable of constructing
the poetry of Homer and Dante, and the sciences
of astronomy and mathematics, are found in the
end to confine its powers within the very narrowest
limits ; in fact, making it possess merely the power
of molecular motion under forces which are, after
all, merely the sum of the motion, real or potential.
"All vital action," says Professor Huxley, "is the
result of the molecular forces of the protoplasm
w^hich displays it." He adds, "And, if so, it must
be true, in the same sense and to the same extent,
that the thoughts to which I am giving utterance,
and your thoughts regarding them, are the expression
of molecular changes in that matter of life, which
is the source of our other vital phenomena ; " and
he says that "even those manifestations of intellect,
of feeling, and of will, which we rightly name the
higher faculties," are known, "to every one but the
subject of them," only as " transitory changes in
the relative positions of the part of the body."
Upon this I say that the subject of them knows
them to be different; and, as knowing them to be
dilferent in himself, he knows them to be something
9*
202 NATURAL THEOLOGT.
higher in others than " mere changes in the relative
positions of the body." But I quote the language
to show what is to be the end scientifically of all
this pretended spiritualizing of the body : it ends in
making thought molecular change, and mind — like
heat — a mode of motion. This is the issue scien-
tifically ; and the end practically will be to make
man to see and argue, that he has no evidence of
the immortality of the soul ; and believing that, he
is a mere throb in the pulse of life, a mere bubble on
the ever-moving stream of time : he will feel as if all
he had to do was to dance along as gayly as possi-
ble, and get as many of the enjoyments of this
world as he can, using as his motto and practical
maxim, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we
die."
But Professor Huxley says he is no materialist.*
"I, individually, am no materialist: but, on the con-
trary, believe materialism to involve grave philo-
sophic error." This brings me to the second ground
on which these men decline to be called materialists :
it is because they believe neither in mind nor matter
as substances. " For, after all, what do we know of
this terrible 'matter,' except as a name for the un-
known and hypothetical cause of states of our own
consciousness ? And what do we know of that ' spirit '
over whose threatened extinction by matter a great
lamentation is arising, like that which was heard at
the death of Pan, — except that it is also a name for
an unknown and hypothetical cause or condition of
* Physical Basis of Life.
HUXLEY A HUMIST. 203
the states of consciousness ? " You will see now more
fully the object I had in view in discussing the sub-
ject of Nescience in Lecture IV. of this course,
and the importance of showing that we know both
mind and matter as having real existence and power
and permanence. Mr. Huxley, in a Lecture on
Descartes, of whose profound philosophy he has a
very superficial appreciation, tells us : " Nor is our
knowledge of any thing we know or feel more or
less than a knowledge of states of consciousness."
"Stricth- speaking the existence of a 'self and of
a 'not self are hypotheses by which we account for
the facts of consciousness." I have labored to show,
by an appeal to consciousness, that we have quite
as direct and immediate and certain knowledge of
" self" as we have of the " states of self." We never
do know a state of consciousness, except as a state
of self. On the ground on which we deny the one,
we may deny the other. If we affirm the one, we
ought also to affirm the other. Some persons have
been put into a state of high ecstasy because Mr.
Huxley has so decidedly declared that he is no mate-
rialist- But he is no materialist simply in this sense :
that, as he frankly acknowledges, he is a Humist,
believing neither in matter nor spirit, except as
" hypothetical assumptions of the highest practical
value." But then, unlike Hume, he uses, as he
confesses, a "materialistic terminology," which will
be understood, as it has in fact been understood,
by his readers in a materialistic sense, which will
leave its practical impression. He is no materialist,
204 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
he proclaims ; but let all men observe that he falls
back on a "physical basis" of life and of mind. I
do not see that, logically and consistentl}-, he has
a right to call in any sort of basis. But men's
instincts are stronger than their speculative opin-
ions ; and he has fallen back on a basis, and makes
this basis not spiritual, as spiritualists do, but phys-
ical. What he has done scientificall3s the mob of
sensual men will do practically, and will believe In
nothing but what has a physical basis, but what
can be seen and felt. The office of the positive
philosophy will turn out in the eiid to be to sanction,
in the name of a philosophy, what is not a philos-
ophy, but wishes to call itself a philosophy. This
materialism, whether it calls itself materialism or
not, will be more or less refined according to the
character of the minds that adopt it, — more artistic
and dilettante among the refined, coarse and licen-
tious among the vulgar.
The materialists of the higher sort all admit that
there is such a thing as thought, or mind, and that
the properties of mind are different from those of
ordinary matter. But, in one way or other, they
identify thought with material agency. The conclu-
sion to which Professor Bain comes, at'ter a historical
survey of opinions, is : " The arguments for the two
substances have, we believe, now entirely lost their
force : they are no longer compatible with ascer-
tained science and clear thinking. The one sub-
stance, with two sets of properties, two sides, — the
physical side and the mental side, a double-faced
PROFESSOR BAIN. 205
unity, — would appear to comply with all the exi-
gencies of the case." * "Two sides" is, at best, a
metaphorical phrase, and is altogether material-
istic. It is not easy to see how benevolence, or the
idea of goodness, can be one side of a substance,
while the other side may be heat or figure. Mr.
Bain is fond of introducing anatomical descriptions
in the midst of psychological investigations, and
in doing so leaves the impression that he has
accounted for intellectual or emotional operations
by organic affections. But there is ever a wide and
an unfilled-up gap between the bones, muscles, and
nerves, which he describes from books of anatomy,
and the comparisons, emotions, and resolutions of
the mind. Even when he is successful in showinsf
that a sensation originates in an organic affection,
he fails to mark the difference between the organic
action and sensation, and he utterly fails in show-
ing how our ideas — how our higher ideas, such as
those of duty and charity — can arise out of, or be
identified with, cell-force, or brain-force. His divis-
ion of the Faculties of the Mind is into the Senses
and the Intellect, the Emotions and the Will. His
division is, in my opinion, a defective one. It
allots no separate place to the Moral Faculty, and
it embraces under Feeling two such diverse phe-
nomena as sensations of pleasure and pain, and the
mental emotions of fear, hope, and love. But such
as it is, it is a division formed by contemplation of
the workings of the conscious mind, and not by the
* Fortnightly Review, May, 1866.
2o6 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
observation of the nerves, the cells, or brain, which
can tell of no such distinctions. No one acquainted
with later physiology will maintain that he has
discovered one part of the brain, or one set of
agencies in the brain, devoted to tlie Intellect,
another to Feeling, a third to Will. He narrows
very much the functions of the Intellect: he admits
that the mind has the power of perceiving resem-
blances and differences ; but he has not shown that
such comparison, — the comparison, for instance,
which groups nature into a grand system, — is the
product, or even the concomitant, of a group of
cells, or of co-ordinated nerve currents.
I am unwilling to look upon Professor Tyndall as
a materialist, especially after his defence of the exist-
ence — he does not say the separate existence — of
mind. His language is guarded : he speaks of the
phenomena of mind being ever " associated " with
those of matter, and of their " appearing together."
" In affirming that the growth of the body is me-
chanical, and that thought, as exercised by us, has
its correlative in the physics of the brain, I think
the position of the materialist is stated as far as that
position is a tenable one. I think the materialist
will be able finally to maintain this position against
all attacks.'" And he argues, in behalf of " the
extreme probability of the hypothesis, that for every
fact of consciousness, whether in the domain of
sense, of thought, or of emotion, a certain definite
molecular condition is set up in the brain ; that this
relation of phjsics to consciousness is invariable,
PROFESSOR TTNDALL. 207
SO that, given the state of the brain, the correspond-
ing thought or feeling might be inferred, or, given
the thought or feeling, the corresponding state of
the brain might be inferred." * Some of these state-
ments seem to me to go beyond what has been
determined either by physiology or psychology.
When the poor man refuses the bribe prof-
fered him in his hour of need ; when the patriot
resolves to die for his countr}^, which he is thus able
to save ; when the Christian cherishes the hope of
heaven in the most trying circumstances, — I have no
proof that any one could discover all this by simply
looking at the state of the brain. In the interests
of science, as well as of philosophy and religion,
the rash statements of these men must be corrected.
All attempts to localize the different faculties in
different parts of the brain, or connect them with
special nerves, cells, or currents, have utterly failed.
Some have held that the anterior lobes of the brain
are the seat of the higher faculties, and the upper
and posterior lobes the seat of the emotions ; but
no scientific man in our day will venture to say that
this has been scientifically established ; and even if
it were established, it would merely prove that in-
tellect is more intimately connected with one part
of the brain, and emotion with another. Of late
years, M. Broca has endeavored to show "that the
third frontal convolution of the lefl: hemisphere of
the brain is the seat of language ; " but others dis-
pute this, and urge facts which appear to be incon-
* Address before British Association.
2o8 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
sistent with it. " On the whole," says Dr. Maudesley,
" it must be confessed that, so far, we have not any
certain and definite knovvledge of the functions of
the different parts of the cerebral convolutions. The
anatomists cannot even agree on any convolution as
peculiar to man : all that they can surely say is,
that his convolutions are more complex and less
symmetrical than those of the monkey."*
After this cridcal survey, I am prepared to lay
down a few posidons fitted to meet Materialism,
whether of the grosser or more refined form.
(i) There is the consciousness of the Person-
ality and the Unity of the Mind. I have no such
conviction in regard to any material object. I can-
not open my eyes without seeing the objects before
me, — that hill and that tree ; and I know them to
exist, but I do not regard them as having a specific
personality. I can easily believe that the particles
that compose them may be constantly changing,
and that they may be broken up and become other
things, mud or mould. But I believe, and must
ever believe, myself to have an individuality different
not only from that hill and that tree, but from that
changing bod}^ of mine, from those nerves and cells
and brain currents. I can believe, on evidence be-
ing produced, that these parts of the body are inti-
mately connected with mental action ; I can believe
that every particle of my body may be changed in
seven years; but meanwhile I am as assured as
ever that I who think am different from that organ
* Physiology and Pathology of Mind, p. 125.
LA JVS OF MIND. 209
which I think about, and that I have a personahty
such as is not possessed by the cells or vesicles of
the brain.
(2) The mind follows laws of its own, which are
not law^s of matter. The laws of body are such as
these : that matter attracts other matter ; that the
elements combine in certain definite proportions ;
that organized bodies exercise such functions as
assimilation and absorption. But there are laws of
mind quite as clearly and certainly established as
those of matter. In the very act of knowing matter,
mind is exercising a property very different from
any property of the matter observed by it. In the
exercise of the senses, the perception of the figure
of a body is very different from the figure. Then
the soul in all its actings has a consciousness of an
abiding self which it can never get rid of. In
memory, it looks back upon the past, and recog-
nizes objects and events not now before it. In
imagination, it can picture new and fairer scenes
than any reality, and rise in the contemplation tow-
ards the good and the perfect. Even in association
of ideas, there is more than bodily laws ; as, for
instance, when like suggests like, when a scene
before us suggests a far distant one. In every
judgment there is comparison, — a comparison of
two things, one of W'hich may not be present,
neither of which may be present ; and in our higher
judgments we may connect things by very refined
analocries. The nature of reasoning has been
known since the time of Aristotle ; and, with a few
2IO NATURAL THEOLOGY.
slight differences, there is a wonderful agreement
among logicians as to the law which regulates it.
The principle underlying the whole is, that what-
ever may be predicated of a class may be predi-
cated of all that is contained in that class. Or take
the laws of the moral faculties : as when the soul
contemplates an immoral act, — say the murder of
a father, — and condemns it, and proclaims that
right is supreme, and that every thing should give
way before it. The laws of the emotions are as well
established as those of the material universe ; as,
for instance, the law that feeling depends on a
previous idea or conception of good or evil. The
consciousness of free-will, the feeling of obligation
and of responsibility, these may be dependent, in
an inferior sense, on a concurrent organism, but
the}^ rise to an infinitely higher region. These are
laws as certainly and definitely established as the
law of gravitation or of chemical affinity or vital
assimilation. But these are not laws of body, of
motion, or of molecules, or electricity, or magnet-
ism, or vital absorption, but differ from them as
widely as we can conceive one thing to differ from
another.
(3) Mind cannot be shown to be one of the cor-
related physical forces. I have already noticed the
grand truth established in our day, that the sum of
physical force in the universe is always one and the
same ; and that all the varied forces, mechanical,
chemical, and electric, and probably the vital, are
modifications of that one force. This can be shown
THOUGHT NOT MEASURABLE. 211
as to each of the forces by weighing it. Mr. Joule,
of Manchester, showed that 772 pounds faUing
through one foot produces sufficient heat to raise
one pound of water 1° F. ; and they speak of the
mechanical equivalent of heat as being 772 foot
pounds. Now some have insinuated, and some have
asserted, that mind is merely one of the correlated
physical forces. But -prima facie there is one
grand difficulty in the way of establishing this doc-
trine, in the fact that, even if it were true, we have
no means of proving it, — certainly no such means as
we have of proving that heat is one of the correlated
forces. Scientific men can measure heat and the
other ph3^sical forces — we can measure the degrees
of heat produced by the fall of a pound so many feet ;
but we cannot weigh or measure thought or feeling
or will. This is a fact which shows at once the
essential difference between the two, between body
and mind. The barometer has not yet been con-
structed which will measure the weight of a thought,
— say the thought of Sir Isaac Newton when he
got the first glimpse of the law of gravitation. We
have yet to find a thermometer which will measure
tlie intensity of love on the part of a mother for
her boy when he is being torn from her to go to a
distant land, or expiring before her eyes; or the
love of a Christian, — say the x\postle John — for
his Saviour.
Mr. Herbert Spencer tells us,* "That no idea or
feeling arises, save as a result of some physical
* First Principles, p. 217.
212 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
force expended in producing it, is fast becoming
a common-place of science ; and whoever only
weighs the evidence will see, that nothing but an
overwhelming bias in favor of a pre-conceived
theory can explain its non-acceptance." This is
by no means a correct expression of the facts. Let
us carefully observe what actually takes place. A
mother receives a letter intimating the death of a
son. The paper with the black strokes on it is all
that falls under the senses ; but the mind at once
apprehends the meaning, and the idea of the loss
so affects the mother that, after violent outbursts
of grief, she is left thoroughly exhausted. Now
there is no evidence that all this anxious thought
and sorrowful feeling is the " result of some phys-
ical force expended." What follows the simple per-
ception by the senses is a mental operation, an idea
of the loss of a beloved son arising according to
psychical and not physical laws. This is seen
more clearly when the affection is produced solely
by internal contemplation, without any external
occasion ; as when on reflecting on our past con-
duct we feel that we have done wrong, and expe-
rience the qualms of conscience. True, these
mental states exercise an influence on the brain,
whereby brain force is expended and physical
prostration is the result. But the grief of the
mother, the condemnation of the conscience, is not
the result of a physical force expended. The
expenditure of the physical force laid up in the
brain is rather the result of the strong mental
PROFESSOR BARKER. 213
affection which has risen up according to the laws
of mind.
An American chemist has made an attempt to
prove that mental force is one of the correlated
forces.* The facts on which he proceeds are said
to be these : There are states of mental torpor in
which the galvanic needle applied to the brain may
remain stationary for hours. "But let a person
knock on the door outside the room, or speak a sin-
gle word, even though the experimenter remained
absolutely passive, and the reception of the intelli-
gence caused the needle to swing through twenty
deo-rees." Dr. Barker has not seen what is involved
in this fact. The person was passive in respect of
bodily action ; but, upon the knock or the word
reaching: him, the mind was startled into action.
Now here we have, first, a thought produced by the
knock, or, rather, by the apprehension in the mind
of the knock. This thought was not the product
of physical laws, but of mental laws, — an idea
awakened by an intimation of the senses, coming
suddenly and unexpectedly. The idea, or thought,
was not the conversion of a physical force ; but
the idea in the mind probably increased the circu-
lation of the brain, and with this its animal heat,
and hence the needle moved. Dr. Barker is en-
tirely wrong in his interpretation of the fact, when
he says, "The heat evolved during the reception
of an idea is energy which has escaped conversion
* '-The Correlation of Vital and Physical Forces," by Pro-
fessor Geo. F. Barker, M.D., Yale College.
214 NATURAL THEOLOG7'.
into thought." In the actual process, there has been
a thought in the mind, produced by mental laws,
prior to the evolution of heat, which in fact follows
in consequence of the action of thinking and emo-
tion on the brain. Dr. Barker tells us, farther,
that " experiments have shown that ideas which
affect the emotions produce most heat in their re-
ception ; " "a few minutes' recitation to one's self
of emotional poetry producing more effect than sev-
eral hours of deep thought." This is what we
might anticipate, according to mental laws, that
emotional thoughts, such as poetical images, would
excite the mind more than calm thoughts, and
thereby use and expend more physical force.
Surely Dr. Barker does not mean that the ph3'sical
forces, that the heat of the brain, could distinguish
between emotional poetr}^ and deep thought ? AH
this does not go to prove that poetical images, such
as those of Shakspeare, are the conversion of phys-
ical energy. The correct statement is, that the
emotions produced by mental action use and waste
the brain energy. Again, we are told that " Dr.
Lombard's experiments have shown that the amount
of heat developed by the recitation to one's self of
emotional poetry was, in every case, less when that
recitation wais oral." I can readily believe this ;
for when the recitation was oral, the force which
would have affected the needle was used in con-
nection with the muscular contraction necessary to
articulation. Thus, too, w^e can explain the well-
known fact that, when emotion is allowed its natural
MIND NOT A CORRELATED FORCE. 215
outlet and expression in bodily action, it is moder-
ated. Not that the emotion is converted into mus-
cular energ3s but that the physical energy in the
brain becoming less, the emotion is restrained, and
lassitude follows. I do not require, then, to dispute
any of Dr. Barker's statements as to facts. I sim-
ply dispute his interpretation of the facts, especially
his rash inference in the assertion that thoughts
and emotions are merely the conversion of physical
energy ; of which there is not a particle of evi-
dence. The change in the state of the brain does
not produce the thought, — say the thought of duty
or the thought of danger, — but follows it. The
ideas — whether the being starded by a sound, or
the calm meditation of a philosopher or mathemati-
cian, or the emotional image of the poet, or the same
thoughts recited alone or to others — all arise ac-
cording to mental law's, which can be very definitely
expressed ; and the liberated heat and electricity are
the accompaniment of the action of thought upon
the brain.
When physical force disappears in one form, we
can find it in another. When it vanishes as heat,
we may detect it in the mechanical power of the
steam-engine. We know, too, where the powder in
plants and animals goes. When they die, it de-
scends into the earth to increase the organic sub-
stance in the soil. But, surely, in mind we must
have, if it be a physical force, a higher concentra-
tion of power than in any of these. But where has
mind-force irone on the dissolution of the body ?
2l6 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
Can the man of science detect it in air or earth ?
Can he weigh it or turn it to any use, as he can
turn mechanical power or decaying vegetable and
animal matter ? It is said that there is as much
electricity in a rain-drop as might produce, when
emitted, a thunder charge. How much larger
must have been the force in the brain of Shak-
speare ! But, when Shakspeare died, was there
any evidence of the conversion of that force into
any correlated force, chemical, mechanical, or
vital ?
Altogether, the special operations of the mind, —
the recognition of an event as past by the memory,
the remembrance of a mother long since ascended
into glory, the tracing of an effect through a long
process to a remote cause, the discovery of a new
planet by mathematical ratiocination before the
telescope had alighted upon it, the brilliant fancies
and wide imaginings of the poet, the fondness of a
mother for her son, the refusal to tell a lie when
strongly tempted, the resolution of the sailor to cast
himself into the sea to preserve the life of a fellow-
creature at the risk of his own, the abhorrence of
sin on the part of a sanctified mind, the idea of God
and of holiness, the constant aim to reach the purity
of heaven, — these, considered simply as phenomena,
belong to an entirely different order from heat, or
mechanical power, or an electric current, or chem-
ical affinity : we feel that there is an incongruity in
the very proposal to weigh or measure them, and
there is no proof that they can be converted into
RELATION OF MIND AND BODY. 217
a physical force, or that a physical force can be
converted into them.
The following is a hypothesis which seems to
combine a number of the facts established by recent
science. Mind does not seem to me to be connected
with rude matter, with the molecules of matter ; but
with the forces in matter, with the correlated forces.
There is need of a concurrence of force in the brain
in order to mental action. This is supplied by the
alimentary and digestive organs, which may send it
to the brain in the form of blood. They get it in
the shape of food from vegetables or animals, which
again get it, as ever}^ man of science know^s, from
the sun. The power which radiates from the sun
enters the plant, which is eaten by the ox, which is
eaten by us ; and the organs of the body send it on
to the brain, where it is laid up like water in a
reservoir. One main function of the brain, espe-
cially of the gray matter, is to receive and distrib-
ute it. The brain is provided for this purpose ; is
partly formed, I believe, by this very force accu-
mulating there from day to day and year to year.
Here, then, we have force of some kind, and a
brain to hold it, to direct it, and enable the mind
to use it. But all this is not thinking, is not know-
ing or feeling or willing ; in all this there is no
discernment, no hope or fear or desire, or appre-
ciation of the beautiful, or of good and evil. A
current of nerve force runninir throutrh the cortical
cells of the brain is one thing, the thought of
IMayer in arguing out the doctrine of the corre-
10
2l8 NATURAL THEOLOGY.
lation of the physical forces is an entirely different
thing.
I am inclined to admit that God has so consti-
tuted our present compound nature, that, without
physical force distributed in the brain, the mind
will not work, — just as a water-mill will not work
if it has no water. And when the mind works, it
uses and changes this power, which takes a new
form. It is not thereby either increased or dimin-
ished : it merely gets a new distribution ; runs down,
in fact, to the lower parts of the frame, and goes
out in dregs, and is no longer available to the mind,
which will act healthily only so far as it has a sup-
ply of this physical force. When this force is ex-
hausted, the mind feels helpless for the time — the
mill stops. If, by a disturbance in the brain, the
force is improperly directed, there may be that most
melancholy of all sights, a derangement in the
mental oper^ations. On the needful force being sup-
plied, the mind is ready to work, and in doing so
obeys its own laws — the mill obeys the laws of its
own machinery : the mind thinks according to logi-
cal laws, feels according to the laws of feeling, ap-
preciates beauty according to the laws of aesthetics.
If the force is supplied in proper measure, and in
the proper channels, the mind acts freely and
healthily. If not supplied in due order, the mind
is arrested, disturbed, agitated, and its proper action
interfered with ; and gloomy thoughts and perverted
feelings may arise. But all this, while the physical
force is one thing, and mental action is another
MIND IS IMPERISHABLE.
219
thing, — just as the mill machinery is one thing,
and the water which it needs another thino-. And
though the one were to cease, it does not follow that
the other must also cease. The v/ater would flow
on whether there be a mill or no. The mill might
go by seme other power, — say steam, — supplying
the needful conditions. As man is at present consti-
tuted, the mind needs the physical force and the
brain-case to hold that force and direct it ; but this
does not show that in another state of things the
mind might not without the body, — and on other
conditions being supplied, — think and feel and act
as it did before. When a blacksmith's stroke is
stayed by striking on the anvil, we know where the
power has gone : it has gone into the molecular
motion or heat of the body struck. When the body
of the animal dies, w'e know where the power has
gone : it has gone into the soil to enrich it. When
Newton died, where did the intellectual force go? I
know where : it went not down into the earth wdth the
body, but up to God in heaven. When the Chris-
tian dies, where has his love gone? Not into the
grave for worms to feed on it, but up to the bosom
of the Saviour from which it has flowed. Yes : it is
a universal law of nature and of grace that nothinsr
dies, though every thing changes. "The dust shall
return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall
return unto God who gave it."
VIII.
Our Lord's Life a Reality and not a Romance. —
Criticism of Renan's Life of Jesus.
■' I ^HE points which I have been discussing in the
-*• previous lectures have a bearing both upon
Natural and Revealed Religion. If we cannot
know any thing except what passes under our sen-
tient experience, we have no evidence of those
great verities to which faith looks ; and if the soul
of man be material, it is not easy to see how we
can rise to the conception of an immaterial God, or
be justified in holding by the immortality of the soul.
And it is to be borne in mind, that the Scriptures
do not set about proving that there is a God : they
assume that he exists, and claim to be a revelation
of his will. There have been persons who sought
to undermine our belief in natural religion, in order
to shut us up into revealed religion, — a very peril-
ous undertaking, inasmuch as in pulling down the
platform on which their opponents are placed, they
pull down that on which they themselves stand. I
can join heartily with all those who would establish
in a logical manner the great truths of Natural
Theology ; and I confidently expect help at this
REVEALED RELIGION. 221
point from the best Unitarians and Rationalists of
America. It must now be clear to them that, if
these foundations are destroyed by the rising Posi-
tive or Materialist schools, they have no religion
left : and I am cherishing the hope that they will
employ the literary and philosophical abilities which
God has given them, in defending the great truths
of the existence of God, the immortality of the soul,
and the indelible distinction between good and evil ;
and in doing so, my hope is that they may be led
into a higher religious position than that which they
at present occupy. Standing on these fundamental
truths, they will feel that what they know impels
them to desire to know more. For the question will
press itself upon them. How do I stand in relation
to that God in whose existence I believe? to that
holy God who hates sin? to that God to whom I
must give an account? That law in the heart con-
demns the possessor of it : how am I to be recon-
ciled to the Lawgiver? These questions carry us
beyond natural to revealed religion.
With a special object before me in these Lec-
tures,— that is, to meet the wants of the times, — I
am not to enter on the whole wide subject of the
Evidences of Christianity. It is now felt on all hands
that the question turns round the Life, the Charac-
ter, and the Works of Jesus. This is the strong-
hold which has often been assailed and never been
taken. With it secured, we can defend the whole
territory, — Old Testament and NewTestament, doc-
trine, history, and morality. An ingenious attempt
222 APOLOGETICS.
has been made in our day to seize this citadel ;
and this I seek to meet.
There are two, and only two, wa}s in which an
attack can be made on the reality of our Lord's life.
It may be urged, first, that the gospel history is a
fable, in which it is vain to seek for any truth ; or
that it is such a mixture of fact and fable, that it
is impossible to distinguish the one from the other.
It is after this manner that Grote proceeds in deal-
ing with the siege of Troy. He says, we have
no account of the siege except in books of poetry,
which do not profess to be history, and which were
composed ages after the alleged occurrence ; and
so we cannot be quite sure that there ever was such
an event : or, on the supposition that there may have
been a basis of fact, we cannot separate the actual
from the traditional and legendary. There have
been assailants who took this ground in seeking to
undermine our confidence in the gospel history. It
is now acknowledged that the attempt was a com-
plete and a miserable failure. Our Lord lived not
in fabulous, but in historical, times, in which Grecian
culture and literature were widely diffiised, and in
which the Roman government had introduced set-
tled law and means of communication. And these
four Gospels are, on the very face of them, not
poems or legends or myths, but historical narra-
tives, professedly by eye-witnesses, or persons who
received their information from eye-witnesses. In
their structure and spirit they are simple and art-
less, life-like and truth-like. Satisfactory evidence
M. RENAN'S ADMISSIONS. 223
can be produced that they existed very much as we
now have them in the age immediately succeeding
the crucifixion of Jesus, — three of them in less than
forty, and the other in about sixty, years from that
event. If we maintain that the life of our Lord is
not an historical event, we are landed in hopeless
difficulties : in consistency, we shall have to give up
all ancient history, deny that there ever was such a
person as Alexander of Macedon, or that there was
such an event as the assassination of Julius Ceesar.
M. Renan has seen this, and has followed another
method. He allows that the four Gospels arc in
substance historical books, and that Jesus spoke
and acted very much as he is represented as doing
in these narratives ; but then he claims to take so
much, and rejects the rest. He has thus avoided
some of the difficulties in which infidels have in-
volved themselves, but he is caught in others quite
as formidable. He has drawn out from these four
Gospels a superficially connected and plausible biog-
raphy which he chooses to call a fifth Gospel ; but
in doing so he has violated all the laws of historical
investigation, proceeded on caprice and prejudice,
drawn a character inconsistent with itself, and given
us a history utterly incongruous and incredible.
It is one of the disadvantages under which we
labor in contending with the sceptic, that he objects
to every weapon which -we may bring with us. It
is fortunately possible in the argument with this
critic of our Lord's life, that we can fight him with
his own weapons. M. Renan receives a large per-
224 APOLOGETICS.
tion of the gospel histor}^, but he will not accept
the whole. Now I meet him by showing that he
is acting capriciousl}' in taking so large a part and
rejecting the remainder, and that the same histori-
cal reasons w^hich lead him to adopt so much should
in consistenc}' constrain him to go farther and hold
by the rest. Suppose some one were to affirm that
Shakspeare had written all those pla3^s which deal
with war and stirring incident, but that he could
not have conceived or depicted the reflective and
morahzing Hamlet ; or to maintain that while Milton
had composed the dignified and magnificent "Para-
dise Lost " he had not written the livelier " Comus,"
or the duller "Paradise Regained," which, it is
alleged, must have been produced b}'- an imitator of
inferior genius : how would you meet such a pre-
posterous hypothesis? You would prove that we
have as good historical proof of the one work, as of
the other, proceeding from the authors whose names
they bear ; and you might show, farther, that the
works themselves bear traces in style and manner,
in thought and sentiment, of proceeding from the
same writers. It is in this way that I am to pro-
ceed in reviewing the French critic. I am to show
that when he has gone so far, he cannot in consist-
ency stop where he does, but must advance con-
siderably farther.
I am to assume nothing which he does not allow
in his candor or in his ingenuity. What, then, does
he admit? He allows that Matthew wrote a Gospel ;
that Matthew was an eye-witness and an ear-witness
MATTHEW AND MARK- S GOSPELS. 225
of what he records, or had very direct means of
knowing the truth of it. He cmcedes all this on
the internal credibility of the narrative, and on the
authority of Papias, who wrote early in the second
century, and of a chain of succeeding writers, who
quote or refer to the Gospel. He is specially fond
of insisting that Matthew preserved the Discourses
of our Lord, — " he deserves, evidently, a confidence
without limit for the discourses;"* and, in particu-
lar, he grants that the parables, as being one narra-
tive, could not be altered, and that we have them as
our Lord delivered them. He allows farther that
there was a Gospel by Mark ; that Mark was a dis-
ciple and an eye-witness, and to be trusted as to the
facts which he relates ; that he was a relative of
Peter, who may be supposed to have given his sanc-
tion to Mark's Gospel ; and that Peter was originally
an illiterate fisherman, and the impulsive, impetuous,
open, and honest man which he is described as being
in the Gospels. He admits that Matthew and Mark
were not men of genius or invention ; that neither
was capable of writing the discourses put into the
mouth of our Lord, of imagining the wonders which
he is represented as performing, or of conceiving
the finer and loftier features of his character. He
grants farther that these two Gospels must have been
written about the time of the siege of Jerusalem ;
that is, between thirty and forty years after our
Lord's crucifixion.
So far all seems satisfactory to the Christian.
* Introd. p. xxxvii (in 13th ed. p. Ixxxi.).
10*
226 APOLOGETICS.
But, to enable our critic to dispense with any pas-
sages that displease him, he alleges that the two
Gospels underwent a change. He thinks that when
a person happened to have either of the Gospels, in
order to have a complete text, he would write on
the margin passages from the other Gospel. It was
in this way, he supposes, that the two Gospels were
fashioned into the shape in which we now have
them. The theory may seem an ingenious one ; but
it is a crazy fabric, which, as it tumbles down, only
injures the man who built it. For, by such a proc-
ess, we should have had, not two Gospels, but a
hundred or a thoiisand. The disciple at Jerusalem
with a copy of Matthew would make additions in
one way ; and the Christian at Antioch with a copy
of Mark would supplement in a different way ;
while readers at Alexandria, at Ephesus, at Corinth,
and at Rome would amend in still different ways :
and thus we should have had innumerable variations
and discrepancies ever multiplying and becoming
more exaggerated; whereas, as is admitted by all,
we have, from a very old date, certainly from the
beginning of the second century — I believe earlier
— these two Gospels in their present form, and soon
after we have them fixed for ever, by their being
translated into other tongues.
M. Renan does not look with so favorable an eye
on Luke's Gospel. He evidently does not like the
account given in the first two chapters of our Lord's
supernatural descent. But he makes important ad-
missions as to this Gospel. It is allowed that it was
LUKES GOSPEL. 227
written by Luke, and that Luke also wrote the Book
of Acts ; that Luke was a disciple of our Lord, and
had means of knowing about his sayings and acts ;
that, as he claims, he " had perfect understanding
of all things from the first," and got information
" from them that were eye-witnesses and ministers
of the Word ; " that he was the companion of Paul,
and must have had the countenance of that Apostle
to his Gospel. He will not allow that Luke pub-
lished his Gospel before the destruction of Jerusalem ;
for this would imply that our Lord gave a most
minute prediction of that event (chap, xxi.) : but he
is sure it must have been given to the world soon
after ; that is, within forty years of our Lord's death.
He qualifies all this by alleging that Luke admitted
legends and adopted traditions. Here- again our
critic involves himself in perplexities from which
there is no honest outlet. For in these forty years
there was not time for the gathering of traditions or
the formation of myths. We have unfounded tradi-
tions and legends of occurrences which happened
centuries ago, but not of the lives of John Quincy
Adams, Henry Clay, and General Jackson. At
the time when Luke wrote, a large body of eye-
witnesses and of actors in the scenes, Galilean and
Jewish, such as apostles, disciples, priests, scribes,
and rulers, — friendly and unfriendly, — must have
been alive, and many of them ready to expose any
erroneous statement put forth by the friend of so
well known an apostle as Paul. If it be alleged tliat
additions may have been made by others to this
228 APOLOGETICS.
Gospel, we are involved in the same difficulties as
we have shown Renan is in regard to the first two
Gospels; that is, instead of one settled Gospel, we
should have a hundred Gospels according to Luke,
each differing from the others according to the kind
of legends adopted.
M. Renan does not know very well what to make
of John's Gospel. He is sure it must have been the
same person who wrote the Gospel and the three
epistles that bear the name of John : the style is
sufficient to prove this. He reckons it quite estab-
lished by historical evidence that this Gospel was
published before the end of the century ; that is,
less than seventy years after our Lord's ascen-
sion. He is certain that the author must have been
John, or an immediate disciple of John, and thinks
it highly probable that it must have been written by
John : in fact, he thinks, we may consider John as
the author. He allows that John was an apostle
very intimate with our Lord, and constantly with
him, and that he wrote later than the other evan-
gelists, and with the view of furnishing a connected
chronological account of our Lord's life, and of
reporting discourses and detailing incidents which
had not appeared in the other Gospels. He con-
cedes that this John was originally an illiterate
fisherman, son of Zebedee the fisherman, on the
lake of Galilee ; and that he could not have con-
ceived or written certain of the discourses in the
Gospel, such as that sublime prayer which Jesus is
represented (chap, xvii.) as putting up in behalf
yO/IN'S GOSPEL. 229
of his disciples. But to counteract these conces-
sions, he would have it that parts of chap. xxi. are
an addition made by one who was nearly a contem-
porary. He insinuates that good faith was not always
John's rule in writing his Gospel.* But observe
into what a mess of difficulties our author has
plunged himself by these admissions and denials.
Chap. xxi. has all the peculiarities of style which
have convinced Renan that the other parts of the
Gospel and the Epistles are b}^ the same writer.
That writer opens his First Epistle : " That which
was from the beginning, which we have heard,
which we have seen with our eyes, which we have
looked upon and our hands have handled of the
Word of Life ; for the Life was manifested, and we
have seen it and bear witness." M. Renan is evi-
dently right when he finds the same author saying
in the same style (John xix. 35), "And he that saw
it bare record, and his record is true, and he know-
eth that he saith true that ye might believe." But
surely it must be the same who says in the rejected
chapter xxi. 24, "This is the disciple which tes-
tifieth of these things, and wrote these things, and
we know that his testimony is true." I believe the
testimony thus solemnly given. To refuse this is
to make a liar and a hypocrite of the beloved dis-
ciple of our Lord, the apostle who has recorded the
most heavenly and loving of his discourses, and
who, according to history, lived a long and consist-
ent life, bearing persecution and exile, because of
* Page 159.
230 APOLOGETICS.
his belief in what he has attested, and ever with the
words of purity and truth upon his Hps.
Such was the view taken of John's Gospel in the
first twelve editions of his work. In the thirteenth
he modifies his previous opinions. He is now
inclined to think that the Apostle John is not the
author of the fourth Gospel. But he argues still
that it has a real connection with the Apostle John,
and that it was written towards the end of the first
century. He insists that this Gospel possesses at
bottom a value parallel to that of the S3moptics,
and in fact superior to them at times.* But by
these changes he has_not improved his position.
He acknowledires that the author of the fourth
Gospel wishes to pass for the Apostle John. f He
farther allows that it contains some references
{renseigmnents) infinitely superior to those of the
Synoptics. I He appreciates the beauty and pro-
priety of the discourses of our Lord closing with
the sublime prayer, recorded from chap, xiii.-
xvii. ; and insists that there must be truth in these
circumstantial and characteristic narratives of the
transactions towards the close of our Lord's life.
What then are we to make of these ? Were the
discourses and the prayer uttered b}' Jesus ? Then
they carry with them the whole incidents of which
they formed a part, and out of which they arose.
* Pref. de la Tieiz. Ed., p. xii. In Lecture IX. will be found
some remarks on the apparent discrepancies between John and
the Synoptics; and in Lecture X. on John's Gospel.
t Introd., p. Ixv. % App., p. 514.
yO//N'S GOSPEL. 231
Renan acknowledges that the parables in the
Synoptics could not have been composed by the
disciples who scarcely understood them, who were
not capable of inventing them, and could not have
altered them without entirely destroying their unity.
And it wall at once be admitted that they were quite
as incapable of fashioning the discourses and the
prayer of our Lord on the night he was betrayed.
Nor can it be reasonably maintained that, wdth a
basis of fact, the}' may have had additions made to
them by legendary traditions, for in that case they
would have lost all consistency. And so M. Renan
alleges that the fourth Gospel w^as written by some
member of the schools of Asia which attached them-
selves to John. But to this I reply, first, that no
mystic of Asia Minor, or of any other country, ever
produced any thing worthy of being compared with
these chapters. And, secondly, this is to suppose
that there were two persons in that century, one
of w^hom could deliver the Sermon on the Mount,
and the other the addresses and the petition for the
church — so radiant with heavenly light — recorded
in the close of John's Gospel. It is to suppose,
farther, that these breathings of the heart w^ere
composed by one guilty all the while of the deceit
implied in wishing to pass himself off as the Apostle
John. M. Renan evidently felt himself in diffi-
culties in his old position, but in shifting his ground
he has only got into new perplexities.
It is out of these four Gospels that the critic com-
poses what he calls a Fifth Gospel. I have occu-
232 APOLOGETICS.
pied myself many laborious hours in ascertaining
how much of the four Gospels is acknowledged in
the fifth. I have marked by pencil in a copy of the
New Testament the passages employed in the con-
struction of the " Life of Jesus," and which are
sanctioned by quotation or by reference at the foot
of the page, and have thus made out the Gospel
history acknowledged by this unbeliever. The
portion of my Testament occupied by the Gospels
is quite black with the strokes I have drawn.
There is not a single chapter of the four evan-
gelists in which we have not more or less acknowl-
edged. The author has accepted whole chapters
as written by Matthew or Mark or Luke or John,
and as containing the real discourses of Jesus, or
narrating the deeds performed by him. I find that
there are about 971 verses in Matthew's Gospel,
and Renan refers to no fewer than 791 of these as
giving an accurate account of the sayings or doings
of our Lord ; and he quotes other 73 as being in
the Gospel by Matthew, but not allowed by him 10
state the facts correctly. In Mark's Gospel there
are about 678 verses ; and our author uses 384 to
draw up his own account of our Lord's life ; and
ascribes other 82 to Mark, who, however, in these
does not please the critic. Of the 1151 verses in
Luke, 606 are employed for his own history by
Renan, and 136 more are attributed to Luke with-
out the statements being sanctioned. I have not
summed up John's Gospel so carefully because
he speaks so indecisively about it ; but a like
ADMISSIONS AS TO OUR LORD'S LIFE. 233
calculation would give us very much the same
result.
And here it is of the utmost moment to have it
settled what the critic admits to be true in our
Lord's life. He allows that Jesus was the son
of Mary, who was married to Joseph the carpenter ;
that he had brothers and sisters, and was the oldest
of the family ; that he was brought up at Nazareth ;
that he went up to Jerusalem at the age of twelve
and conversed with the doctors ; that he could read,
but did not know any foreign literature ; that he
preached at Nazareth, and was in danger of being
thrown over the brow of a hill (which M. Renan
can point out) , and was driven out of Nazareth ;
that he had transactions in Cana of Galilee, and
went to Capernaum on the lake ; that he was
much in the houses of Zebedee and Peter ; that he
gathered round him a body of disciples, and that
the twelve named in the Gospels were his apostles ;
that he visited in his labors of love the cities and
villages lying round the north-west of the lake ;
that he was believed to cure diseases and work
miracles, and allowed the people to think that he
did so ; that he delivered discourses from a ship on
the lake and from a mountain in the neighborhood ;
that these discourses, and especially his Sermon on
the Mount and his parables, have been handed
down to us as he delivered them ; that he was a
relative of John the Baptist, and had intercourse
with him, and was much influenced by him,
receiving messages from him and sending me.-sages
234 APOLOGETICS.
to him, and that John was a genuine though a
stern man ; tliat he took occasional excursions into
other regions, such as tlie coasts of Tyre and
Sidon, and to Cesarea Phihppi and the Peraga,
and Jericho and Ephraim ; and that he went up
regularly to Jerusalem at the religious feasts, and
there delivered discourses and purified the Temple,
and was supposed to do wonderful works, — all this
as detailed in the four Gospels. In particular
Renan gives a full account of our Lord's last visit
to Jerusalem and of his death. He tells us that
Jesus was intimate with Martha and Mar}^ and the
family at Bethany, that he often spent the night
there, that he brought Lazarus out of the tomb
there, and that ointment was poured on his body
there in anticipation of his burial ; that he went
into Jerusalem during the day, and M. Renan can
point out his favorite resorts and places of prome-
nade ; that at the passover he ate the last supper
witii his disciples ; that the priests and rulers
plotted against him, and that Judas betrayed him;
that he often went into the garden of Gethsemane,
and that the ofilcers seized him there ; that he
was brought before Caiaphas the high priest, and
Annas, who (it is acknowledged by Renan in
striking consonance with the Gospel narrative)
ruled the high priest; that his trial, as reported by
the evangelists, is in remarkable accordance both
with the Roman law and with the Jewish customs
as given in the Jewish Talmud ; that the disciples
fled, that Peter stood afar off and denied him, and
ADMISSIONS AS TO OUR LORDS LIFE. 235
that John and the women went to the foot of the
ciTJSS ; that Pilate was unwilHng to condemn him
and proposed to let him go, but yielded to the
clamors of the Jews, who insisted that Barabbas
should be released instead ; that he was scourged
and buffeted, and led to crucifixion through the
streets of Jerusalem; that, being exhausted, they
laid liis cross on a young man from the country ;
that he was crucified between two thieves, and that,
after being some hours upon the cross, there was a
bursting of a vessel of the heart ; that his side was
pierced, and that a fluid substance came out of it;
that Joseph of Arimathea begged the body, and
was joined by Nicodemus in preparing it for the
sepulture ; that Pilate, after exacting precautions
from the centurion, allowed this ; that he was buried
in the tomb, and a great stone rolled upon it, and a
guard set to watch it. Here Renan closed his Life,
and promised to take up the resurrection in a future
volume. It is a suitable close. The Fifth Gospel
gives us a death, but gives no resurrection. In
the Christian Church, as at the creation of the
world, the evening and the morning constitute the
day : in this new religion, which is to supersede
the Christian, the night cometh, but there is no
morning.
We do wonder, when all this is allowed, that the
other parts of the gosi^icl narrative should be denied.
But Renan cannot admit that our Lord possessed
supernatural power : and so he is obliged to devise
a theory to account for our Lord's character, influ-
236 APOLOGETICS.
ence, and alleged wonderful deeds, without allowing
him to be a divine messenger or teacher. He finds
three periods in our Lord's life. In the first period,
he sets out as a moralist and gentle reformer : he
begins to preach and gather round him a company
of disciples, and to travel from village to village in
Galilee. In the second period, he comes into closer
communion with the stern and gloomy Baptist : he
imagines himself, or allows himself to be thought,
the son of David and the Messiah of the prophets ;
and seeks to establish a kingdom of a romantic or
ideal character, in which civil government and
private property were to cease, and in which the
rich were to be degraded and the poor exalted.
Failing in this, there comes a third period, in which
he becomes disappointed and embittered ; nay, is
tempted to use artifice, and is hurried on to death in
a troubled manner and spirit, expecting some unde-
fined world-revolution to come. This is the new
theory of the life of Jesus, stript of some of the
paint with which the artist has daubed it. It is one
of the most baseless historical theories ever formed
by perverted ingenuity. In order to confute it, I
am to use no other materials than those which
the author of it has sanctioned. The passages
which I quote (except when notice is given) are
all employed by the critic in constructing his theory,
and may therefore be legitimately employed in over-
turning it.
First Period. At this stage Jesus is placed
before us in what is meant to be a very engaging
FIRST PERIOD. 237
light. There never was so lovely a person as he.
Of a ravishing form, of a genial and loving spirit,
he drew towards him the hearts of all the men, but
especially of all the women, with whom he came
in contact. Somehow — our author cannot tell us
how — the youth had risen to a high morality, far
above that of degraded Galilee or bigoted Judtea.
He had come to feel that God was his Father, and
the Father of all mankind. This was all his the-
ology ; he knew no more : but this idea penetrated
and filled his soul. With no sense of individuality,
he could not distinguish himself from God. In a
happy hour, — so our author expresses it, — he be-
gins to be a reformer and the preacher of a new
morality. Drawn by his charming person, and the
evidences of his love, a number of men and women
gather round him. Putting himself at their head,
he rides about the country. " He thus traverses
Galilee in the midst of a perpetual fete. He rode
upon a mule, an animal in the East well adapted
for riding, sure-footed, and with a dark eye
shadowed with long lashes and full of mildness.
His disciples sometimes gave vent to their en-
thusiasm by attempting a sort of rustic triumph.
Their garments took the place of drapery : they
cast them upon the mule that bore him ; they
spread them upon the ground where he had to
tread. Wherever he dismounted, his arrival was
held to be a joy and a blessing to that house. He
stayed chiefly in the villages and at the large farms,
where he met with an ea^rer welcome " ! ! The
23S APOLOGETICS.
picture is a veiy pretty one, and resembles the pil-
grimages which I have seen in Austria of men
and women to favorite shrines. Our author at this
place gives a very enchanting picture of the scenery
of Galilee, of its lake and mountains, its trees and
shrubs, its grass and lilies, which he supposes the
carpenter's son and his attendant fishermen to ad-
mire, in much the same way as the boy poets
of this century, who have caught the spirit of
Rousseau, Scott, and Chateaubriand, rave about
natural scenery. Full of ideal dreams and pastoral
visions, our Lord is represented as delivering his
Sermon on the Mount, acknowledged to be perfect,
and also the most beautiful and instructive of his
parables.
This is Renan's picture of the First Period. As
to some points in this description, it is clear that
they are pure romance. It is instructive to find
that no evangelist, no early Christian, says a word
about the beauty of Christ's person. I rather think
that Renan here draws from the Roman Catholic
painters. As to his riding on a mule, we read of
his once riding into Jerusalem on an ass, as a sym-
bol of his being a king, but a lowly king ; but at
all other times he walked it on weary foot over
burning plain and rugged mountain. As to his
admiration of natural scenery, it is obvious that he
did love and appreciate his Father's workmanship,
that grass and these lilies, and the fowls of the
air, but it wiis with a far loftier feeling than the
Frenchman gives him credit for ; and there is really
OUR LORDS MORALITY. 239
no reason to believe that Peter and Andrew, Philip
and Thomas, did ever break tbrth into ecstasies
about flowers, like boarding-school girls of the
nineteenth century, or were any thing more than
plain, earnest fishermen, striving to earn an honest
livelihood on their lake, and seeking withal to
know what is true about God and right in duty.
And then that sermon, acknowledged to be so per-
fect that none but Jesus could have uttered it, how
did it come that a Galilean peasant could utter it?
Whence that moralit}^, pure, it is acknowledged, be-
yond all displayed to us before or since? I believe
that he who expounded it must have been taught of
God.
That morality is not only pure and ethereal, as
Renan allows : it is profound, penetrating, and soul-
searching, in a way which our smart critic cannot
estimate. It is certainly very different from the
light, airy sentiment which is painted and recom-
mended in our modern romances, French and Brit-
ish. It is different in its whole spirit from the
narrow, self-righteous ceremonial of the Pharisees,
who busied themselves with laying down regu-
lations as to the tithing of mint, anise, and cum-
min, and as to the washing of pots and vessels. It
is equally removed by its spirit of love and self-
sacrifice above that of the proud old pagan philos-
ophers of Greece or Rome, or that of the modern,
self-sufficient rationalist. It presupposes that man
is a sinner ; it sets before him a high ideal of purity
and love, and points out a way of reaching it by
240 APOLOGETICS.
grace ; and it recommends the graces of faith in
God, repentance, humihty, and charity.
It can be farther shown, that, while he was from
the beginning a moralist, he was from the first more
than a moralist. It was not in the progress of
events that the idea occurred to him of setting up a
kingdom : he intended all along to do so. It was
not as he met with keen opposition at Jerusalem
that he contemplated persecution : he foresaw it
from the commencement of his public ministry.
All this can be established by passages sanctioned
by Renan as belonging to the earliest part of our
Lord's ministry.
In proving this, I will not insist on the intimation
of Jesus, contemplating a great work, at the age of
twelve, " I must be about my Father's business "
(Luke ii. 49) ; for the critic, while he quotes the
passage, is not sure about our Lord's younger years.
Neither will I dwell on his being consecrated to his
work by baptism, as our author is not very willing to
give his adhesion to all that is said about John bap-
tizing Jesus ; for he sees it implies the supernatural,
— the heavens opened, the dove descending, and the
Father approving. But I ask. What meaneth the
temptation which preceded our Lord's preaching and
ministry ? Recorded by the first three evangelists ;
reported by Mark, who is said to be so accurate as
to facts, — Renan acknowledges that there must be
reality in it. And mark that it comes in, not at the
close of his ministry, when his spirit was supposed
to be chafed by opposition ; but at the commence-
OUR LORD'S EARLY PREACHING. 24I
ment, showing that there was ah-eady a cloud over
his spirit, and denoting that thunders would speedily
burst. Then, let us listen to our Lord's first sermon.
It is not of that light, romantic character which \^•e
might expect from Renan's theory. The subject of
it is given, Mat. iv. 17, "Repent: for the kingdom
of heaven is at hand," in which two great truths are
brought out : one, that there was a kingdom at hand ;
and the other, that men were to enter it by repent-
ance. The account is fuller in Mark i. 14, 15 :
"Jesus came into Galilee preaching the gospel of
the kingdom of God, and saying the time is fulfilled,
and the kingdom of God is at hand ; repent ye and
believe the gospel ;" where it should be marked that
our Lord connects the kingdom he \vas to set up with
the predictions of the prophets, the fulfilment of
which is said to be at hand ; that the coming king-
dom is twice mentioned ; that the gospel is said to
be about that kingdom ; and that repentance is the
proper preparation for it.
Let us turn now to the Sermon on the Mount so
much lauded. The first beatitude is one suited to
sinners (Mat. v. 3): "Blessed are the poor in spirit."
The second implies that men are sinners, v. 4 :
"Blessed are they that mourn." There is a distinct
apprehension of persecution coming, and an admoni-
tion to prepare for it, v. 11, 12: "Blessed are ye,
w^hen men shall revile you and persecute you, and
shall say all manner of evil against you falsely.
Rejoice, and be exceeding glad ; for great is your
reward in heaven : for so persecuted they the proph-
242 APOLOGETICS.
ets that were before you." A kingdom is everywhere
kept before our view, and the disciples were taught
to pray, "Thy kingdom come." Those who use the
Lord's prayer are assumed to be sinners, to be weak
and liable to temptation, and exposed to the assaults
of the Evil One, vi. 12 : "And forgive us our debts,
as we forgive our debtors ; and lead us not into temp-
tation, but deliver us from the Evil One." The diffi-
culties of the Christian course are clearly announced,
vii. 14 : " Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way,
which leadeth to life, and few there be that find it."
I quote these utterances (and others to the same
effect might be added), because it is acknowledged
that they were delivered in the First Period, when
it is supposed that he w^as so light and hopeful, and
his whole prospect gladdened with sunshine. It
should be frankly admitted that Jesus developed his
plans gradually, as they had been ordained in the
counsels of heaven, and according as men were able
to bear them. But he had in him all along- what he
afterwards became, just as the tree is in the seed,
as the oak is in the acorn. His course was one
from first to last, along one road to one goal ; begin-
ning with his baptism and temptation, and ending
with his crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension.
Second Period. In this period, Jesus comes into
closer connection with John, is seized with a revolu-
tionary ardor, and purposes to set up a kingdom.
Though not descended from David, he allows it to
be thought that he is. He never goes so far as to
make himself equal with God ; but he identifies him-
SECOND PERIOD.
243
self with God, and reckons himself the Messiah.
The kingdom which he contemplates is not to be a
political one established by a rebellion against the
Roman government. It is an ideal, that is a vision-
ary, one, with no magistrate and no private property,
and is to appear immediately. In order to bring it
in, he ordains apostles and sends them out to preach
and proclaim the new reign. Meanwhile he allows
his ardent followers and the superstitious multitude
to imagine that he heals diseases by a miraculous
power, which he does not possess. Such was his
aim and his work during the middle portion of his
ministry, in which, according to our author, we have
his enthusiasm kindled into a nobler flame, and his
contemplated end enlarged ; but in which also we
have the commencement of deflections from the pure
morality of his early career, and of that accommo-
dation to circumstances which led to positive artifice
in the Third Period. If Jesus had died before this
stage of his existence, he would not have been heard
of beyond a small district of Galilee or after his
own age ; but he would have been purer and more
faultless.
It is easy, from the materials which the critic
allows, to scatter this vision. We have seen that
from the very first our Lord meant to set up a king-
dom. As his public ministry advances, the plan
is developed moie fully ; but it is, in the end, men ly
the filling in of what had been described in outline
from the beginning. The kingdom is obviously a
spiritual one. But there was never a purpose to set
244 APOLOGETICS.
aside the temporal power. He refused to interfere
in matters of civil government, saying, when he was
called to decide in a legal dispute (Luke xii. 14),
"Who made me a judge or a divider over you?"'
He wrought a miracle, in order to pay tribute, and
laid down the important principle (Mat. xxii. 21),
'' Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's,
and unto God the things that are God's." Here we
have a clear and admirable enunciation of his doc-
trine, both as to the kingdoms of this world and his
own kingdom, subsisting together and alongside,
each having a place and a sphere : namely, that in
temporal things tribute, honor, and obeisance arc to
be rendered to Caesar, the civil governor ; while in
spiritual things the heart, conscience, and worship
are to be reserved for God. Our Lord clearly
announces that his kingdom is to be a spiritual
one. And here I will not insist on John iii. 3,
where he says, we must be born again, in order to
enter the kingdom ; for Renan is not sure about this
passage, though it is consonant with the whole teach-
ing of our Lord. The critic acknowledges that
Matthew may be implicitly trusted as to our Lord's
discourses. Let us turn, then, to Mat. xiii., where
we find a full account, by Jesus, of the nature of
his kingdom. We see how the kingdom is to be
established and men brought into it, v. 3, by the
scattering of the seed of the Word ; and we should
observe how it is declared that a large body of man-
kind are not prepared to receive that seed, because
their hearts are impenetrable as the beaten wayside,
OUR LORD'S KINGDOM. 245
or thin as gravelly places, or choked up as with
thorns. Again, this kingdom is to be the result of
a long process and of growth, and is to be so far a
mixed kingdom ; for, v. 24, it is likened to a man
sowing good seed, while the enemy sows tares, and
both grow together till the harvest. In v. 47, it is
represented as a net which gathers all kinds of
fishes, which shows that our Lord saw that in the
visible church the evil w-as to come in with the good,
and that his views and expectations were never of
that ideal, Utopian character which the Frenchman
supposes them to have been. The same lesson is
taught by the comparison of the kingdom, v. 31, to
a grain of mustard-seed and, v. 33, to leaven. For-
tunately our author acknow^ledges the parables to be
genuine : the disciples had not genius to fashion
them, and they are too consistent to be made up of
legends. The whole of Luke xv. is sanctioned by
our sceptic, and we see from it who were to be
members of Christ's kingdom: v. 5, the lost sheep
brought back on the shoulders of the shepherd ;
V. 8, the lost piece of money saved from the dust ;
V. II, the lost son brought back by the remembrance
of a father's love to the father's house. The king-
dom was to be a reign of God in men's hearts (Luke
xvii. 21) : "Neither shall they say, lo here! or, lo
there ! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within
you." The whole object of our Lord's mission is
described (Luke xix. 10.) : "The son of man is come
to seek and save that which was lost." Renan
quotes twice Mat. xviii. 3, where the necessity of a
246 APOLOGETICS.
spiritual change is clearly pointed out: "Verily, I
say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become
as little children, ye shall not enter into the king-
dom of heaven."
Third Period. We approach the view given of
this period with aversion : it so grates upon our feel-
ings. We would shrink from the examination of it
if we could ; but there is no help for it : the charges
have been brought, and we must face them. Jesus
has been filled with an idea which makes him
dizzy.* His idea he finds is not to be realized;
and so bitterness and reproach affect his heart more
and more every day,f and he gives way to feelings
of disappointment and sourness, and in the end he
hurries on to his death as a sacrifice which he cannot
avoid. In order to set up his kingdom, he must
leave Galilee and go up to Jerusalem. But there
the scenery is so sterile and horrid in Judaea, when
compared with the smiling northern province, that
his spirits become oppressed ! The Jewish doctors
cannot appreciate his fine morality or his lofty
visions, and the people are too indifferent to take
any notice of him. He must do something to make
himself known. What is this to be? He must
either renounce his mission, or become a worker
of miracles.! And here we have excuses offered
for the conduct of Jesus which grate upon our
moral sense, and to which we indignantly refuse to
listen. Jesus has now to use less pure means : § he
has to yield to opinion and satisty the ideas of the
time :|1 at first the artifice (oh ! we shrink from the
* p. 318. t p- 324- % P- 257- § P- 92- II PP- 160. 360.
THIRD PERIOD. 247
word as applied to Jesus) is innocent;* he allows
himself to be thought a worker of miracles against
his will-t There lives on the back of the Mount
of Olives, where it begins to slope from the sum-
mit, a reputable and loving family, the members of
which have become attached to Jesus. They are
anxious to further his views and promote his cause.
We shrink from the thought of giving tlie account
which follows, as we would from repeating a scan-
dal against a brother or sister, a father or mother.
But the calumny has been uttered, and we must
repel it. Martha and Mary devise a plan of putting
their brother Lazarus, while yet living, into the
tomb, and Jesus consents to come to the grave and
call him forth. When we read this, we feel that we
must reject with scorn all the compliments which
Renan has been paying to our Lord throughout the
volume, when he lauds him as so great and pure, as
"the individual who has approached nearest the
Divine," and as "the creator of the eternal religion
of morality."
But let us pursue the development of the romance,
which has now become so unnatural. The miracle
does call the attention of many : but it only irritates
the Jewish rulers, and they conspire to put Jesus to
death. He has seen, for a considerable time, that
he cannot establish his kingdom. He becomes bitter
in his expressions and fierce in his denunciations.
He feels that he must prepare for leaving this world.
He might have avoided death ; but love carries him
on,:}: and he makes the sacrifice, expecting some
* p. 162. t p- 26S. X p. 370-
248 APOLOGETICS.
speedy renovation of the world to be brought about
he knows not how.
Need I enter upon any elaborate statement to
show how false the picture, if there be any consist-
ency in character, any reality in the gospel narra-
tives? It can be established, in the first place, that
our Lord did not begin to work miracles at this
time, that he habitually performed them from the
commencement of his public ministr}^ : we have as
good evidence of this as of any other incident in
his history, as we have of his reputed miracle at
Bethany. The same John tells us (chap, ii.) that
he began his miracles three years before at Cana
of Galilee ; and Matthew gives detailed accounts of
many miraculous cures, such as of the centurion's
servant (viii. 5-13), and of the man with the palsy
(ix. 2-6) . Mark, so commended for the accuracy of
his narrative of facts, tells us (iii. 15) that W'hen he
ordained the Twelve, he gave them power to " heal
sicknesses."
And as to Jesus being engaged in the alleged
transaction at Bethany, our better nature sensitively
recoils from it. He has here felt himself in diffi-
culties. If he entirely omit the incident, his whole
version of our Lord's life loses its credibility ; for
we have an account of the transaction — minute,
circumstantial, and consistent — by John, a pro-
fessed spectator. And so our author gives the
event ; and, as he cannot admit it to be miraculous,
he makes it a deception. But in making it an
artifice, he has made it an inconsistency, an improb-
ability ; indeed, a moral impossibility. Renan's
THE RAISING OF LAZARUS. 249
version of it is before us, and we have to examine
it. If Jesus was what the author describes him,
the purest, loftiest, and most truthful of men, he
could not have done the deed. If he did the deed,
he could not have had that lofty consciousness and
tliose high moral aims which he is represented as
setting continually before him. This critic is here
in a dilemma; and we leave him exposed, on the
horn he may prefer, to the scorn of all truth-
seeking historical investigators. The cunning
artist has here outwitted himself, and has been
led to do so by his false theory. He makes
one, represented by him as entitled to be called
" divine," act as if he were a vulgar juggler or a
wandering professor of mesmerism. If such an
incongruity were exhibited on the stage, it would
be hissed oft' it ; as it is, we must hiss it oft' the
stage of history. That one who, it is acknowl-
edged, did such deeds of holiness, endured such
self-sacrificing sufferings, and delivered such lofty
discourses, should have descended to so low a
deception, is monstrous, is utterly incredible. I
would as soon believe that there was not a single
honorable merchant or trustworthy tradesman in
our country, or a single honest man or virtuous
woman in our world ; I would sooner believe that
my father never cared tor me, that my mother never
loved me, as that one so truthful and sincere and
loving should have done so hypocritical an act.
So far I wrote at the time when the work was
published.* I think it proper that what I then said
* Good Words, 1864.
250 APOLOGETICS.
should appear in these Lectures, directed against
the errors of our day. For the charge brought
by M. Renan is allowed to remain in the editions
issued at present in the book-stores of America, and
in the English translation, even in the impressions
bearing the date of 1870. But it requires to be
stated that, after allowing the allegation to run
through twelve editions, he withdrew it in the thir-
teenth edition, published in 1867. He was driven
from his first position by the remonstrances of schol-
ars and the indignation of the public, who feel that
his insinuations are unjust. For his first theory he
has substituted a second, which is as weak as the
other is unworthy. He still continues to insist that
there were transactions in which Jesus consented to
play a part ; and, with pointed reference to the event
at Bethan}^ that " there never was a great religious
creation which did not imply a little of that which
people call fraud." * But he softens his language,
and represents the supposed miracle as proceeding
from a misunderstanding. The friends of Jesus
thought it needful that some wonder should be per-
formed to impress the minds of the hostile inhabi-
tants of Jerusalem. In particular, the pious sisters
were sure that it would melt the hearts of the im-
penitent, were one to rise from the dead. "No,"
said Jesus, " they will not believe, though one should
rise from the dead." Then the}^ recalled to him a
history with which he was familiar, that of the poor
good Lazarus covered over with sores, who died
and was carried into Abraham's bosom ; but he as-
* Treiz. Ed., App., p. 510.
THE liAlSIXG OF LAZARUS. 25 1
sured them that, "if Lazarus should return, they
would not believe on him." In time misunderstand-
ings collected around this subject. "The hj-pothesis
was changed into a fact.* They spoke of Lazarus
as resuscitated, and of the unpardonable obstinacy
which could resist such testimony." It was impos-
sible that a report of this should not reach Jerusalem,
where it only exasperated the enmity of the rulers
and brought disastrous consequences to Jesus.
This is certainly a very slender basis on which to
rear such a structure. M. Renan argues that there
is need of some such foundation. He refuses to
take refuge in the allegorical or mythical theory of
Strauss and the rational theologians, which he is
sure is not applicable to the characteristic incidents
and accurate details, as to our Lord's life, found in
the account of his latter days in John's gospel, f
And I admit to him that popular legends may collect
in nebulous matter round a very small nucleus.
But not such a history and moral traits as are indis-
solubly intertwined with the resurrection of Lazarus.
In the earlier editions, he fixed on a foundation
utterly inconsistent with the acknowledged char-
acter of our Lord. In later editions, he has nothing
left on which to rear such tender incidents as the
sympathy of Jesus, the conduct of the sisters, and the
grand truth evolved : " I am the resurrection and
the life : he that believeth in me, though he were
dead, yet shall he live ; and whosoever liveth and be-
lieveth in me shall never die." M. Renan declares
that the narrative of the resurrection of Lazarus is
* PP- 37^. 373- t App., p. 508.
252 APOLOGETICS.
bound up with the last transactions in the life of Jesus
by such strict ties, that if we reject it as imaginary
the whole edifice, so solid, of the last weeks of the
life of Jesus, is crushed by the same blow.
It can be show^n that, in this third period, Jesus
is unfolding as pure a moralitj^ as in the first. Mat-
thew, who reports the discourses so faithfully, repre-
sents him as at this time summing up the law in
love, in love to God and love to man (chap. xxii.
37-40). It is clear that he is developing the plan
of his work which had been all along before his
mind. He is still contemplating the establishment
of a kingdom, and the very same kingdom. This
is brought out in the parable reported by Matthew
(xxv. 14-30) , in which the master distributes talents
among his servants, and departs with the assurance
that he will return. The new kingdom is to be
established in consequence of the death of the Son
(Mat. xxi. 33; Mark xii. 1-12). He had been
announcing his death for a considerable time (Mark
ix. 31), "For he taught his disciples and said unto
them, The Son of Man is delivered into the hands
of men, and they shall kill him, and after that he is
killed, he shall rise the third day." He brings out
clearly that it is through his death that life is to be
imparted to the church (John xii. 24) : "Verily,
verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat
fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone ; but
if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." The death
is an atonement for sin, for when he takes the cup
he says (Mat. xxvi. 28) : "For this is my blood of
the New Testament, which is shed for many for the
OUR LORD'S LATTER DATS. 253
remission of sins." He gives instructions as to the
discipline, communion, and prayer to be instituted
and kept up in the church when he should have
departed (Mat. xviii. 20): "For where two or
three are gathered together in my name, there am
I in the midst of them." It is clear that it is the
same kingdom which was to be entered by repent-
ance and regeneration that is to be continued by
worship and holy fellowship.
It may be allowed that Jesus becomes more faith-
ful in his warnings, first to the Galileans, and then
to the Jews at Jerusalem, as he draws near the
close of his pilgrimage. But there is no trace of
bitterness or disappointment. The darkness, no
doubt, is becoming denser ; but the eclipse had
begun at the commencement of his atoning work :
we see it in the temptation immediately following
the baptism. And he continues as loving, as ten-
der, as full of sympathy, as he ever was. Nay,
have we not all felt as if the prospect of his death
and of his parting with his disciples imparted an
additional pathos to these heart utterances of our
Lord? That sun looks larger, and glows upon
us with a greater splendor as he sets. The plant
sends forth a greater richness of odor by being
crushed. The fragrance is poured forth in richer
effusion from the alabaster box when it is broken.
Certain it is, that some of the tenderest incidents in
our Lord's life occur towards its close. It was at
the period when he is supposed to have been soured ;
it was when he had left Galilee for the last time,
and was setting his face steadfastly towards Jeru-
254 APOLOGETICS.
salem, — that he rebuked the disciples, when they
were for calling down fire from heaven (Luke ix.
55). It was at this time that he took little children
in his arms, when the disciples would have driven
them away, saying, " Of such is the kingdom of
heaven" (Mat. xix. 14). It was in one of his last
visits to Jerusalem that he looked so complacently
upon the poor widow casting her mite into the treas-
ury (Mark xii; 42). It was as he hung upon the
cross that, turning to Mary, he said, "Woman,
behold thy son ; " and, turning to John, he said,
" Behold thy mother." I know that our critic has
cast doubts on this incident, but very fruitlessl}^ A
great living historian has argued that certain letters
must be genuine ; for, on the supposition that they
are fictitious, they must have been written by a
Shakspeare. The argument is not altogether con-
clusive, for they might have been written by one
with a genius like that of our great poet. Now we
here argue in the same way : but our argument is
conclusive, for none but the highest poet could have
conceived such an incident ; and the evangelists,
however highly elevated spiritually, had not the
skill of our unmatched dramatist. The same may
be said of the comfortable assurances given by our
Lord to the thief on the cross, "To-day thou shalt
be with me in Paradise ; " and of his dying prayer,
" Father, forgive them ; for they know not what they
do." This petition, and the confiding expression,
" Into thy hands I commend my spirit," were the
fitting close of a life devoted to the redemption of
man and the manifestation of the Divine glory.
IX.
Unity of our Lord's Life, — In the Accounts given of
Him, — In His Method of Teaching, — In His Person,
— And in His Work.
TN this Lecture I am to show that the Hfe, the
-^ character, and mission of our Lord are one in
idea, in purpose, in accompHshment, and result.
In doinfT this I have two ends in view. One is to
furnish evidence of the genuineness of the whole.
M. Renan argues that we have the Sermon on the
Mount and the Parables very much as Jesus
delivered them ; for the evangelists were incapable
of conceiving them, and if they had attempted to
add or to alter they would have spoiled them. It is
the same with our Lord's life. It is a conception
which no Galilean, Jew, Greek, Oriental, or Roman
could have formed, and which could not have grown
into such beauty and consistency out of popular tradi-
tion. Another purpose may also be accomplished ;
and that is, to show that in accepting Ciirist's life we
must accept it entire, — doctrine, miracles, and pre-
cepts. Our Lord's life is woven throughout and
without seam, and cannot be divided : we must either
take all or get none.
(i) IVc have four Gospels, and yet tJie account
256 APOLOGETICS.
which they give is one. Tliere is a beautiful unity
and consistency in the character and acts of our
Lord as exhibited by the whole four.
But then it is said that there are discrepancies and
contradictions in their narratives when compared
one with another. And there certainly is not in
these biographies that labored consistency which
we always find in a trumped-up story, and which
so prejudices all who are in the way of shrewdly
estimating testimony. The writers are artless in
every thing; but they are specially so in this, that,
conscious of speaking the truth, they are not careful
to reconcile what they say in one place with what
they or others may say in another place. I admit
that we have such differences as are always to be
found in the reports of independent witnesses ; but
I deny that there are contradictions. Commentators
may differ, and are at liberty to do so, as to the
explanations which they offer of the apparent dis-
crepancies. All meanwhile may agree in declar-
ing that the difficulties arise solely from our not
knowing more than the evangelists have told us,
and that they would vanish if we knew all the cir-
cumstances. To illustrate what I mean in a very
familiar way : One day, when passing along the
streets of the city in which I lived at the time, I saw
that there was a house on fire about half a mile off;
and as I happened to have an official interest in a
dwelling in that quarter, used for a philanthropic
purpose, I proceeded towards the spot. Meeting a
person who seemed to be coming from the fire, I
APPARENT DISCREPANCIES. 257
asked him where it was, and he told me it was in a
certain street. Passing on towards that street, I
asked another person where the fire was, and he
gave me the name of a different street. I asked a
third witness about the fire : he told me he had
been there, and it was nearly extinguished. I met
a fourth individual a little way farther on, and he
informed me that it was blazing with greater fury
than ever. Had I stopped here, I might have been
tempted to say. What a bundle of contradictions ! —
one says the fire is in one street, and another that it
is in a different street : one says that the flames are
nearly extinguished and another says they are
increasing ; and had I stopped it might have been
impossible for me to reconcile the inconsistencies.
But I had reason to be concerned about that fire,
and so I went on, and found that all the witnesses
had spoken the truth. The house was a corner
one, between the two streets which had been named :
the flames had been kept down for a time, but after-
wards burst forth with greater fury than ever.
Nowhere in these Gospels do we meet with such
violent discrepancies as I had in the statements
of these four men. But I have a deep interest
in the depositions of the evangelical biographers.
For there is a fire burning in the earth, a fire
burning in my bosom, and I am supremely con-
cerned to know how it may be extinguished, as I
hope it may be by Him of whom these witnesses
testify ; and I go on to combine their declarations,
and to inquire whether, after all, there be any real
258 APOLOGETICS.
contradictions. I take up those passages dwelt
upon by the infidel.
Luke tells us, ii. i: "And it came to pass in
those days, that there went out a decree from Cesar
Augustus, that all the world should be taxed ; "
dnoytjucftafiui Ttdoav T/)r or/.ovfit'np' : that the whole Ro-
man world should be enrolled. " (And this taxing
[or census] was first made when Cyrenius was
governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed [or
enrolled], every one into his own city. And Joseph
also went." Now it so happens that Josephus,
usually a correct historian as to his own times, tells
us that C3a-enius, or Quirinius, took charge of a
taxation in Judea, but at a considerably later date.
Proceeding on this, the infidel tells us that Luke
must be wrong here ; and Ren an argues that the
whole account of our Lord's being born in Beth-
lehem must be a later legend, inserted to make our
Lord's birth correspond to the prophecy of Micah,
I remember that when I was a student of theology
we were greatly perplexed with this ; for the key
to unlock the mystery had not then been found.
But later German scholarship has very much
cleared up this subject. It is shown first that the
two Roman historians, Tacitus and Suetonius,
represent Augustus as issuing about this time an
edict, that throughout the empire and the allied
States there should be accounts taken of the
number of the inhabitants, of the property, and
its liability to taxation, — this, years before the tax-
ation mentioned by Josephus. Then, secondly, a
RECONCILIATION OF DIFFERENCES. 259
German scholar, Zumpt, has shown that in the roll
of the successive Syrian proconsuls there occurs a
blank at that time, and reasons can be given for
filling up the blank with the name of Quirinius,
who appears to have been governor of Syria from
about A. u. c. 750 to 753. Thus It turns out that
both Luke and Josephus are right : there was first
a census in the time of Augustus, and then a taxing
at a later date ; and Quirinius had to do with both.
And it is a circumstance worthy of being mentioned,
that Luke, wiser than his critics, seems to have
known of both ; and as he mentions the one in his
Gospel, so he refers to the other in his second
work, Acts V. 37, where he speaks of Judas
of Galilee rising up in the days of the taxing.
This discovery helps us to clear up another diffi-
culty. Roman law, says M. Renan, did not require
Joseph and Mary to leave Nazareth, the place
where they dwelt, and go up to Bethlehem, in order
to have their names enrolled. All true, as regards
Roman law. But when Jesus was born (two years
after it would have been different), Herod, an ally
of Augustus, was king of Judea, which was gov-
erned by Jewish and not by Roman law ; and,
according to Jewish law, the place to which they
had to go in order to be enrolled was Bethlehem, as
they were both of the house and lineage of David,
and had legal claims there, according to the Jew-
ish law of inheritance. Thus the objection turns
against him who urges it, and siiows a beautiful
correspondence, of the nature of an undesigned coin-
26o APOLOGETICS.
cidence, between the Jewish law and customs and
the narrative of the evangelist. Luke, by simply
speaking the truth, has avoided a blunder into
which his critic, with all his learning, would have
fallen, had he constructed, as he has endeavored to
construct, a gospel. We see how men who simply
speak what they know will always be justified in
the end, while those who would construct artificial
narratives will be exposed, sooner or later.
As to the apparent discrepancies between the
evangelists, there is often room for difference of
opinion as to the proper reconciliation ; and a candid
man may often find it proper to say, I believe both
accounts, and I am sui-e they could be reconciled
if we knew the whole facts. Sometimes the diffi-
culty is to be removed by supposing that the two
evangelists are not recording the same events, but
diflerent incidents so far alike. It is clear that our
Lord proceeded on a system or method in the deeds
he performed, and was in the way of performing
very much the same sort of deeds at different times
and places. Thus we have him multiplying loaves
and fishes on two several occasions. Matthew tells
us (xv. 32-39 ; see also Mark viii. 1-9) that Jesus
fed four thousand, but he had previously told us
that he had fed five thousand ; and if he had not
done so, the infidel might have urged that Matthew
(xv. 32-39) was contradicted by John (vi. 5-16),
where we are told that five thousand were fed. It
is clear that there were two such transactions ; that
Mark records the one and John the other, while
GENEALOGIES OF OUR LORD. 261
Matthew details both. It appears then that we may
remove some of the seeming inconsistencies by help
of the principle, that our Lord having certain spe-
cific ends in view, to be accomplished by certain
kinds of works, does often repeat himself, even as
God the Creator repeats himself by like organs and
members and plants and animals and earths and
moons and suns running through all creation.
More frequently we are to account for the seeming
discrepancy by the very simple and intelligible fact,
that one witness gives one feature, and another sup-
plies a difterent feature, and that we are to combine
the two, if we would have the whole figure before
us. As an example of the first, I may refer to the
heahng of the nobleman's son (John iv. 46-54),
when our Lord was at a distance, which is not the
same as the healing of the centurion's servant (Matt,
viii. 5-13) : for though the two incidents resemble
each other, both being after the type of our Lord's
miracles, yet they are not the same ; for, in the one
case, the person cured was a son, in the other he
was a servant. As an example of the second, — that
is, of the two recorded incidents being the same, —
I quote Matt. viii. 5-13, where the occurrence is the
same as that of the centurion's servant (Luke vii.
i-io), though the two narrators give different details
of one and the same transaction.
There is a palpable discrepancy between the
genealogy of our Lord as given by Matthew and
by Luke. In saying so, I do not refer merely to
the circumstance that the one goes back only to
262 APOLOGETICS.
Abraham, whereas the other ascends to Adam ;
but to real differences in the account. The number
of ancestors in the two rolls is not the same, nor
are the individual names identical. Matthew's divi-
sion into three fourteens gives forty-two ancestors
from Jesus to Abraham, whereas Luke reckons
fiftj'-six. Matthew (i. 6) makes the descent from
David through Solomon ; whereas Luke (iii. 31)
makes it from David through Nathan, "which was
the son of Nathan, which was the son of David."
Some have tried to explain this by supposing that
Matthew gives the genealogy through the Virgin
Mary (i. 16) : "Joseph the husband of Mary, of
whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ ; "
whereas Luke's is confessedly the genealogy
through Joseph (iii. 23), "being, as was supposed,
the son of Joseph, which was the son of Heli."
Now there is no doubt that Joseph and Mary were
both of the tribe of Judah, and the family of David :
it is probable that Mary, the mother of Jesus, was
the daughter of Jacob, and first cousin to Joseph,
her husband. But this very circumstance renders
it impossible for us to reconcile the differences, for it
would make the lineage one backward from the
grandfather of Joseph and Mary, whereas they are
different throughout. The subject has been taken
up and discussed with great care and a large amount
of success, by Lord Arthur Hervey, in an elaborate
volume.* Matthew's genealogy, he argues, is
meant to show that Jesus was legal successor to the
* Geiicalotries of our Lord.
GENEALOGIES OF MATTHEW AND LUKE. 263
throne of David ; and therefore his descent is traced
through the Hne of kings, — through Solomon, Reho-
boam, Abia, and Asa, and Jehosaphat, andjehoram,
and so forth. Luke, on the other hand, gives his
private, his natural, his family genealogy, which
he traces back to David thri)ugh Nathan. Matthew
shows that he was legally the heir of the throne of
David, through the monarchs of Judah and their
legal descendants. Luke brings out the real pro-
genitors, who were not kings, though descended
from David. You may understand what I mean, if
you consider that a man might be the legal heir of
a propert}- which was not possessed by his father
or grandfather, or actual progenitors for generations
immediately past. In such a case he might have
two genealogies, one through the persons possess-
ing the property, the other of his proper, natural
progenitors. By this simple principle the author
brings the two accounts into harmony. To give
only one example : The two genealogies coincide
in the name of Matthan, or Matthat, (Matt. i. 15,
and Luke iii. 24), ''to whom two different sons, Jacob
and Heli, are assigned but one and the same grand-
son and heir, Joseph the husband of Mary." The
simple and obvious explanation is, " that Joseph was
descended from Joseph, a younger son of Abiud (the
Juda of Luke iii. 26), and that, on the failure of the
line of Abiud's eldest son in Eleazar, Joseph's grand-
father Matthan became the heir ; that Matthan had
two sons, Jacob and Ileli ; that Jacob had no son,
and consequently that Joseph, the son of his younger
264 APOLOGETICS.
brother Heli, became heir to his uncle and to the
throne of David. Thus, the simple principle that
one evangelist exhibits that genealogy which con-
tained the successive heirs to David and Solomon's
throne, while the other exhibits the paternal stem
of him who was the heir, explains all the anomalies
of the two pedigrees, — their agreements as well as
their discrepancies, and the circumstance of their
being two at all."
As to how it comes that there should be such a
resemblance between the first three Gospels and
yet such diversities, there is room for difference of
opinion among those who may speculate on the
subject. The following seems to me the most prob-
able theory, — it is sanctioned by some profound
German scholars : The particular incidents of Gos-
pel history had been so repeatedly narrated by the
apostles in their interviews one with another, and
in their addresses to the church, that a certain type
of narrative had formed itself. "The particular
points, especially in sayings of Christ, were always
reproduced : unusual expressions were the more
firmly retained, since, when they were uttered, they
had more strongly attracted the attention of the
disciples. Sermons and sa3^ings were naturally
retained with more care, and reported with more
uniformity, than incidents ; although even in the
latter, in the same degree that the incident was sur-
prising and peculiar, a fixed type of narration had
involuntarily formed itself." It is thus we have
found the members of a family, who have often had
THE S7'NOPTICS AND JOHN'S GOSPEL. 265
occasion to talk to one another and to others of the
virtues of a deceased parent, coming to repeat the
same incidents in much the same language. In some
such way as this we are to account for the curious
sameness of event and phrase in the account given.
As to the differences, they are easily explained by
each writer so far following an independent course,
as a witness and narrator, and having a special end
in view. Matthew^ wrote specially to the Hebrews ;
and, as he declares (i. i), he sets before us Jesus
as the son of David and the son of Abraham, the
Messiah promised by the prophets. Mark ex-
hibits Jesus (see i. i) as the Son of God, and dwells
forcibly on his deeds of power. Luke, the com-
panion of Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles, shows,
as he professes (iii. 38), how Jesus " was the son of
Adam, which was the son of God."
As to the obvious circumstance that John's Gospel
differs so much from the others, not only in the nar-
rative, but in the sort of discourses put into our
Lord's mouth, I have never thought that it raises
any very formidable difficulty. John tells us at the
close of his Gospel, "And there are also many other
things which Jesus did, the which, if they should
be written every one, I suppose that even the world
itself could not contain the books that should be
written." Of the things which he did, of the words
which he spake, we have only a few recorded.
The first three evangelists give us so much : they
give us what had been inscribed most deeply on the
hearts and memories of the apostles at Jerusalem,
266 APOLOGETICS.
each, however, writing independently of the others.
John wrote his Gospel at a later date, and he stu-
diously brings out other incidents of our Lord's life,
and new features of his character. I believe that
each writer presents our Lord under the aspect
which most impressed him. Every scholar knows
that we have something very much parallel in Gre-
cian histor}'. We have two separate and independent
accounts of the great Greek teacher, who, of all
heathens, most resembles our Lord in his life,
in his teaching, and in his death, though in all
respects falling infinitely beneath the perfect model.
One of these is by Xenophon, a soldier, a man of
the world, and trained in the business of life : he
has given us a plain narrative of the acts and com-
mon conversation of Socrates, bringing out fully
to view his earnestness, his shrewdness, his high
moral aims, and his exalted views of the providence
of God. The other is by Plato, the lofty speculator,
the skilful dialectician, and the writer of such prose
as only a poet of the highest order could compose.
In the Socrates, of the Platonic dialogues, we have
the subtle analyst, the acute cross-questioner, the
exposer of pretension, the master of the most deli-
cate irony, and the profound lover of wisdom, who
can penetrate into the greatest depths to bring forth
gold, and mount like Franklin's kite into the heavens
to draw down lightning. Whence the difference of
the two representations? Some have at once and
peremptorily declared that, while the one is a true
picture, the other is an ideal figure drawn in the
S0CA\17ES OF XENOPIION AND PLATO. 267
rich colors of Plato's own mind. I have pondered
much on this subject ; and I am convinced that both
are correct portraits, and of the same individual,
but in different attitudes and when in different
humors. I allow freely that Plato does at times use
Socrates merely as a vehicle for expressing his own
ideal speculations, and puts his own sentiments and
language into the mouth of his master. But I am
firmly convinced that Plato, after all, gives a true
picture of one side of Socrates's character, and brings
out lofty characteristics which Xenophon was not
capable of comprehending, or at least of appre-
ciating. I argue this from the circumstance that in
the plainer narrative of Xenophon we have thoughts
here and there ascribed to Socrates which carry us
up towards that empyrean in which Plato makes
him habitually dwell ;* while Plato, ever and anon,
* Thus, in Xenophon's Memorabilia, B. iv. c. iv., we have a
dialogue with Hippias of Elis concerning Justice, very much in
the spirit of the dialogues of Plato. '■'■ Hippias. I think that I
have certainly something to say now which neither you nor any
other person can refute. Socrates. By Juno, it is a great good
you say you have discovered; since the judges will now cease
from giving contradictory sentences, the citizens will cease from
disputing about what is just, from going to law and from quar-
relling, and communities will cease from contending about their
rights and going to war; and I know not howl can part with
you till I have learned so important a benefit from its discoverer.
Hippias. You shall not hear it, by Jupiter, until you yourself
declare what you think justice to be; for it is enough that you
laugh at others, questioning and confuting everybody, while you
yourself are unwilling to give a reason to anybody, or to declare
your opinion on any subject. Socrates. What, then, have you
not perceived that I never cease declaring my opinions as to what
I conceive to be just," &c. — Watson's Translation.
268 APOLOGETICS.
brings him down to the earth and makes him utter
practical maxims quite in the spirit of the conversa-
tions detailed by the other biographer.
It is much the same with the two accounts w^hich
we have of the life of our Lord, that in the Synop-
tical Gospels on the one hand, and that in John's
Gospel on the other. Both are true, and both are
delineations of the same lofty character standing
on the earth, but with his head in the sunshine of
heaven. I argue so from the fact that in Matthew,
Mark, and Luke, we have here and there sayings
of our Lord quite in the spirit of those recorded by
John; and that in John there are plain familiar
statements quite in the manner of the first three
evangelists. Thus the address of Jesus, in Matt,
xi. 25, reads as if it were recorded by John: "At
that time Jesus answered and said, I -thank thee,
O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou
hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and
hast revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father,
for so it seemed good in thy sight. All things are
delivered unto me of my Father ; and no man
knoweth the Son, but the Father; neither knoweth
any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whom-
soever the Son will reveal him." On the other hand,
certain narratives in John read as if they had been
written by Matthew or Luke, as (v. 8) : "And a
certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty
and eight years." "Jesus saith unto him, Rise, take
up thy bed, and walk. And immediately the man
was made whole, and took up his bed, and walked :
y^ESUS UNDER DIFFERENT VIEWS. 269
and on the same day was the Sabbath," &c. It is
the same person ; but the two portraits, though both
correct hkenesses, ai'e different, in that one brings
one set of attitudes or expressions into prominence,
and another a different set. In the one we have
certain quahties which all the disciples compre-
hended and relished, and we have specially his
human side brought fully into view^ ; whereas the
apostle who leaned on his bosom, and evidently
looked into that bosom, and w^as warmed by it, has
brought out perfections of our Lord founded in the
depths of his divine nature. From that day to this
the o-reat bodv of Christians have always turned first
to the Synoptic Gospels ; while there have always
been a select few who have felt that the disciple of
love carries them closer to the inner nature, to the
heart of Jesus. We should thank God for providing
both, that all and each may find something to attract
the eye and gain the confidence of the heart.
The light which comes from the sun is one and
the same ; but how- different are the colors as re-
flected from different objects ! The same rays fall
on every part of that plant, but from the leaves are
reflected the soft and lively green, and from the
flow^ers the deeper purple or the brighter red or
yellow. So it is wath Him who is expressively
called the sun of righteousness and the light of the
world : he shone on all the evangelists alike, but
each reflects the hue that most impressed him. I
am tempted once more to use a familiar illustration
from my own history. My father died when I was
270 APOLOGETICS.
a boy, and I have a dimmer recollection of him
than I could wish. In order to get a clearer idea
of him, I have applied to different persons. I have
applied to neighbors ; I have applied to elder
sisters; I have applied to a nearer still, to his
widow and my mother. The accounts given by
them were substantially one ; but they differed in
some points, and the most endearing of all was
by the dearest friend. I believe that the disciple
whom Jesus loved was able to enter into and recip-
rocate some of the deepest and yet the most
delicate of the characteristics of our Lord. As
being himself struck with them, he has recorded the
incidents and preserved the discourses in which
they were exhibited. It is in John's Gospel that it
is so pressed upon us (chap, iii.) that there must
be a spiritual change before we can enter the king-
dom of God; and (in chap, vi.) that we must feed
by faith on the body and blood of Jesus if we
would have life in us. It is in this same Gospel
that we have so tender a view of the sympathy
of Jesus as he wept over the grave of Lazarus
(chap, xi.) ; such gracious promises of the out-
pouring of the Spirit (xiv. and xvi.) ; and of the
intimate relation between the Father and the Son
(x. 30) , — "I and my Father are one ; " and of the
followship between the Father and the Son (in
chap, xvii.), — " O righteous Father, the world hath
not known thee : but I have known thee, and these
have known that thou hast sent me. And I have
declared unto them thy name, and wdll declare it :
JOHN'S PICTURE OF CHRIST. 27 1
that the love wherewith thou hast loved me may be
in them, and I in them."
May I not go a step farther? May we not with-
out presumption believe that Jesus unfolded his
doctrine as his listeners were able to bear it ? If I
address Sabbath-school children, I speak in one
wav ; if I preach to a congregation on the Sabbath,
I have to speak in a different manner; if I lecture
to a class in college, I have to speak in yet a third
way. I am ashamed to refer to myself in such a
connection. But if man with imperfect knowledge
and small resources has to do this, may we not
suppose that He in w'hom dwelt all wisdom w-as
read}' to pour it out in the measure which his
hearers could receive it? I am inclined to think
that, while all received much, John took in most,
and so has been able to give out most, of the pro-
fundity of our Lord's doctrine and the tenderness
of his sentiment. However we may account for it,
there is certainly a glow rich and pure and yet
somewhat mystic, as if it required to be dulled be-
fore we could gaze upon it, round our Lord's person,
as we gaze upon him in the light in which he is
presented in the pages of the beloved apostle.
And as to the apostle's own style in his Gospel
and in his three Epistles being so like that of our
Lord, we are to account for it as we explain the same-
ness of style in prose, poetry, and painting, on the
part of pupils and the masters whom they admire.
I believe it is to be traced to the circumstance that
John, as he leant upon the bosom of his Master, had
272 APOLOGETICS.
drunk into his spirit, and moulded himself in style
as in character upon the great Exemplar.
(2) There is a unity in our Lords method of
teaching. Every one sees and feels at once that
there is something peculiar in his manner of im-
parting instruction. It originates with himself: it
is fresh and novel. It differed equally from the two
modes employed by the eminent teachers of his
time, from the Rabbinical method of the Jewish
doctors and the Dialectic method of the Greek and
Roman philosophers.
It differed from the Rabbinical method, which
appeared soon after the Babylonish captivity,
which became permanently embodied in the
Mishna and Talmud, written some ages after the
time of our Lord, and has been continued by
the Jewish doctors to this day. Those who look
into the Jewish works see a considerable amount
of acuteness and ingenuity running to waste, and
may find precious grains of wheat here and there
in bushels of chaff. The Rabbinical teachers pro-
fessed to be expounders of the Old Testament
Law, but they paid no regard to its spirit and its
moral lessons. The passage was studied with the
view of drawing from it formal restrictions and
ingenious conceits. Passing by the obvious mean-
ing, they discovered a deep signification in certain
words and phrases, and drew inferences from
particles and the position of particles. In doing
this they indulged in ingenious fancies, and labo-
riously employed themselves in constructing silly
THE RABBINICAL METHOD. 273
legends, dealing, as Paul says (i Tim. i. 4), in
fables and genealogies. These were handed down
from father to son, and in the course of ages so
accumulated that they overloaded the simple truth,
and buried it in dust as effectively as the ashes from
Vesuvius buried Pompeii and Herculaneum. All
the commandments were interpreted in a narrow
spirit, and minute regulations laid down as to the
outward conduct and smaller duties, — the tithing
of mint, anise, and cummin, — while the weightier
matters of the law were neglected. Not only so,
but by the additions which they made, they often
perverted the whole meaning and spirit of the law.
Thus in regard to the fifth commandment : "Ye say,
Whosoever shall say to his father or his mother it is
a gift, by whatsoever thou mightest be profited by
me, and honor not his father or his mother, he shall
be free. Thus have ye made the commandment
of God of none effect by your traditions." It was
thus, too, that they perverted the seventh command-
ment, by giving, under one pretext or other, unre-
stricted liberty of divorce. In such interpretations
they differed as widely from each other as they did
from Scripture ; and this gave rise to numerous
schools, which contended with each other, and all
in the same spirit, thus gendering, asPaul expresses
it (i Tim. vi. 4), " questions and strifes of words."
Our Lord must have been familiar with this mode
of instruction ; and the people knew what it was, as
they listened to the teaching in the synagogue from
Sabbath to Sabbath. Jesus proceeds in an entirely
274 APOLOGETICS.
different manner, and the people at once discover
it. It is said of him, after dehvering the Sermon
on the Mount : " It came to pass when Jesus had
ended these sayings, the people were astonished at
his doctrine. For he taught them as one having
authorit}', and not as the Scribes." Going beneath
the outward conduct, he seeks to reach and to sway
the motives, and requires and enforces a change of
heart, saying, "Except ye.be converted, and become
as little children, ye shall not enter into the king-
dom of heaven." "Out of the heart proceed evil
thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts,
false witness, blasphemies : these are the things that
defile a man : but to eat with unwashen hands deti-
leth not a man." Our Lord takes great pains in his
Sermon on the Mount to correct these perversions
of the Jewish doctors, to remove the rubbish of
traditions, and to bring back his hearers to the true
interpretation of the spirit of the law, — showing
how the sixth commandment, in forbidding murder,
condemns all the malignant passions which lead to
it; how the seventh, in forbidding adultery, con-
demns all the thoughts and lusts which might end
in the outward act. In dealing with mankind, he
seeks first to gain their faith and confidence ; he en-
courages them by forgiving their sins and curing
their maladies, if they have an}^, and then brings
them under the law of love. " Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God wdth all thy heart, and with all thy
soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and
great commandment. And the second is like unto
THE DIALECTIC METHOD. 275
it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." His
hearers felt that they were listening to a very dif-
ferent teacher from any they had ever heard be-
fore : " who taught them as one having authority,
and not as the Scribes." But his method ditTered
as essentially from the other employed in his day ;
from —
The Dialectic Method, or the method of the
heathen philosophers. The Apostle Paul knew
both. Bred at the feet of Gamaliel, one of the most
famous of the Jewish doctors, he knew the Rab-
binical Method, and would evidently have been
inclined to follow it, had he not been taught by a
higher Master, who cast down his pride on the
road to Damascus, and made him receive instruction
as a little child, and drink in a new spirit. And he
also knew the other method from his acquaintance
with the schools of Greek Philosophy, acquired
at Tarsus, a city of no mean reputation for Greek
learning. He refers to it once and again, calling
it ''the wisdom of words," "the wisdom of this
world." "The Jews,", he says, "require a sign:
the Greeks seek after wisdom." I call it the Dia-
lectic Method. The phrase was applied first to
the Eleatic School, which indulged in subtle dis-
tinctions as to the nature of being ; and the method
was used more or less by all the Greek and Roman
speculative thinkers, and in many cases degenerated
into mere quibbling, into sophistic or eristic. Do
not understand me as speaking against the study
of the ancient philosophy, so much superior to that
276 APOLOGETICS.
to which some of our colleges would turn the mind
of our youth in the present day, — the wa-etched
and debasing systems of positivism or materialism.
The "Memorabilia" of Xenophon, with its lessons
of Socrates ; the " Dialogues of Plato ; " the logical
and metaphysical works of Aristotle ; and the moral
maxims of the Stoics, particularly the " Meditations "
of Marcus Aurelius, — are about the highest products
of human intellect in ancient times, and are worthy of
the eager study of any educated man. But how
different from the discourses of Jesus, both in their
subjects, and manner of treating them ! First, the
Greek philosophies treat chiefly of speculative ques-
tions, of the nature of substance, the origin of
worlds, the elements out of which all things are
produced ; and they do not investigate them in the
Method of Induction introduced by Bacon, — that
is, by the careful collation of facts, — but by subtle
analysis, by discussion, by arguments on the one
side or other ; and some of them, such as Plato and
the Academic sect, scarcely profess to reach any
settled or satisfactory results. None of them pro-
fesses to speak with authority ; and most of them
leave the great religious and moral questions, — as,
for instance, in regard to the nature of God and the
immortality of the soul, — in a state of doubt and
uncertainty. Where mankind have no other light,
when there is no light shining upon them from
heaven, men may usefully resort to such tapers to
help them to grope their way in the darkness. But
Christ can speak, and does speak, in a very differ-
OUR LORD'S TEACHING. 277
ent manner. He resorts to no sophistic distinctions,
or lengthened ratiocinations difficult to follow, liable
to be disputed, and in which subtle error may lurk ;
but he speaks as one having authority. He claims
such authority, — authority to speak the truth con-
cerning God and the world to come ; authority to
lay down and explain the law, and to point out the
way by which man may rise to eternal fellows liip
with God. And as he speaks, we feel that he has
authority to do so. He tells us much which we
could never have discovered of ourselves ; but when
he announces it, there is something in us which
responds to it. All history shows that mankind are
not able of themselves to discover the unity of God
and his holy and spiritual nature ; but when Christ
proclaims it in the Word, we see that it is, that it
must be, true. Unaided reason has never arisen to
a pure conception of tlie moral law ; but when it is
proclaimed in the Sermon on the Mount, there
is found to be a law in the heart which approves
of it. Jesus speaks as having authority, and there is
a conscience in us which declares that we ought to
bow before it. We might not yield to the Scribes :
there is nothing in their formal rules and endless
restrictions to gain our better nature. We may
refuse to give in to the acute arguments of the
Greeks : we might rather be tempted to square arms
and fight them, and to raise objections and start
theories of our own. But when Christ speaks, and
tells us of " God who is a Spirit," and of the temper
which we ought to cherish, and the duties devolving
278 APOLOGETICS.
on US, we feel that we cannot, that we should not,
resist, that we ought at once to bow before him in
implicit faith and willing obedience.
We recall many able reasoners, many eloquent
orators, in ancient and modern times, in ancient
Greece and Rome, in modern Europe and America ;
but here is 'one who is different from them all, and
who speaks as never man spake. The truth is so
perspicuous and so profound, that we are sure it is
uttered from the clear depths of heaven ; and yet, as
it comes to us and penetrates us, we feel that it has
come through one who is on the earth, who knows
what is in man, who knoweth our frame and re-
membereth that we are dust ; we feel that it is
addressed to us by a fellow-man, by a brother, — it
so touches and melts and moves our hearts. The
discourses of men pf profound thought have com-
monly tended to drive away little children ; but the
words of Jesus, as it were, say, " Suffer the little chil-
dren to come unto me, and forbid them not." Plato
and the Greek philosophers spoke and wrote only
for the educated, and never thought of addressing
the great mass of the people, who were in fact
despised by them. But the prediction regarding
Christ was, not only that he would open the eyes of
the blind, but that by him the poor were to have the
gospel preached to thern ; and it was found in fact
that " the common people heard him gladly." This
constituted a new era in the history of the world, as
it was the means of raising the great mass of the
people. While a child, a savage, can understand and
UNITY OF PERSON. 279
appreciate our Lord's discourses, the profoundest
thinkers are made to feel that there are depths here,
deeper than hell, which they cannot fathom ; heights
higher than heaven which they cannot gauge. We
feel as we do when we gaze into the expanse of
heaven on a clear night, and see every star shining so
distinctly, and yet are made to realize that there are
depths there far beyond our vision. When officers
were sent out by the Jewish council to apprehend
Jesus, they were induced to listen ; and, as they did
so, they were awed, and felt themselves incapable
of fulfilling their purpose, and returned to say so to
those who commissioned them. And not a few who
have begun to read his words, with the view of find-
ing fault and getting matter to condemn him, have
been obliged to say, "Never man spake like this
man."
(3) There is a itnity in the account given of the
Person of our Lord. Everywhere Christ is spoken
of and acts as man, fully and altogether man. Thus
is he foretold in the prophecies, thus he appears on
the earth. Of the race of Adam, the seed of the
woman, the seed of Abraham, the son of David,
born of the Virgin Mary, — he has all the sinless
characteristics, bodily and mental, of our nature,
liable to weakness, acquainted with grief, full of the
milk of human kindness and of compassion. The
biographers speak of him as born ; as growing in
wisdom and stature; as wearied, athirst, hungry : as
rejoicing, sorrowing, in pain ; bleeding, dying, and
being buried. The language of John is as express
28o APOLOGETICS.
on this subject as that of the other three evangelists.
For he tells us that the Word became flesh and
dwelt among us ; and some of the most human inci-
dents of his life are recorded by this evangelist,
such as his close intimacy with the two sisters,
Martha and Mary, and their brother Lazarus.
When speaking of himself, he takes the name of the
Son of Man, — the representative man, the model
man. He shows us what man would have been had
he not sinned ; and yet shows what man had never
been had he not sinned, and produced suffering to
call forth sympathy. He shows us what man puri-
fied is to become in heaven ; and yet what man will
not be in heaven, for in heaven there will be no
sin nor suffering to call forth forgiveness and pity
such as Christ exhibited on earth. Thus is he man,
but unique as man, flowing pure as a river through
the midst of pollution, which calls forth the deepest
commiseration, and which he would sweep away
without himself being stained by it.
But while he is man, very man, it is clear that he
IS something more. This appears everywhere on
the surface: and as we dig down, we see how deep
it goes, and we find that it is ever casting up. It
has often been noticed that the inspired writers
seldom take the trouble of asserting that God exists :
they no more think it needful to do so than to assert
their own existence. They assume that God exists,
and they presume that men believe in his existence,
and proceed to give a revelation of his will. In like
manner they are not in the way of asserting that
WORSHIP PAID TO JESUS. 28 1
Christ is a divine person, but they proceed upon the
doctrine as allowed by the Church. The doctrine
is very prominent in John's Gospel, where Jesus is
represented as the Word who was "in the beginning,"
''who w^as with God," — an expression which shows
that he was somehow different from the Father, and
yet " was God " and the Maker of all things. But
the same truth is constantly implied in the other
Gospels, and is expressly stated ever and anon. If
there is any doctrine more forcibly taught than
another in Scripture, it is that there is only one
God, and that he will not allow w'orship to be paid
to any other. When Peter went into the house of
Cornelius, the centurion w'ould have fallen down and
worshipped him ; but the apostle hastened to raise
him up, saying, "Stand up: I myself also am a
man." When Paul and Barnabas performed a nota-
ble miracle at Lystra, the ignorant heathens mistook
them for the gods come down to earth, and would
have done sacrifice wdth the people ; but Paul and
Barnabas were shocked at the proposal, and ran in
among them and cried, "Why do ye these things?
We also are men of like passions with you." But
once and again divine honors are paid to Jesus, and
he accepts them: Matt. viii. 2, a leper came and
worshipped him ; ix. 18, a ruler worshipped him ;
xiv. 33, they tiiat were in the ship worshipped him;
XV. 25, the woman of Canaan came and worshipped
him, — ^and he receives the homage, not as if he were
vain of it, but as if it were his due. It is in the close
of Matthew, \\ritten specially to the Hebrews, who
282 APOLOGETICS.
Stood up so resolutely for the unity of God, that our
Lord is represented as requiring all his followers to
be baptized in the name of three persons : Matt.
xxviii. 19, "Go and teach all nations, baptizing
them in the name of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Ghost."
But, with two such natures, he is, after all, one, —
quite as much so as the plant composed of animate
and inanimate matter is one ; quite as much so as the
animal composed of a bodily and a sentient part is
one ; quite as much so as man composed of body
and mind is one. How there should be such a
union we are unable to say, just as we are not able
to tell how our soul and body are united, and work
so harmoniously. To separate the divine and hu-
man natures in Christ, we feel to be like separating
soul and body in man, — the destruction and death
of the whole,
A living English writer has tried to give us one
of these aspects of our Lord wathout the other. I
refer to Professor Seeley, of London University Col-
lege, who, in "Ecce Homo," has exhibited some
very interesting and attractive views of our Lord's
character. I have known some young men, whose
faith was being undermined, being profited by the
study of the work ; and the pictures which he pre-
sents are so pure and lovely that I have known none
who have been injured by it. Those who go heart-
ily with him, and as far as he goes, will feel that
they cannot sta}' there ; that in consistency they
must go farthe-, and take a profounder view of One
UNITY OF WORK AND END. 283
represented as so enlightened and spiritual, but who,
to do what he is represented as doing, must have
been more than man, who as he claimed to be God
must really be divine. The features vviiich he has
portrayed so gracefull}^ are those which we may
conceive to have struck a young Church of England
man, of cultured taste, who has been trained in the
criticism of the age, and at a university where the
highest retinement is imparted, and where all old
religious opinions are being unsettled, but who feels
that, whatever he may give up, he cannot give up
Christ. He shows clearly that Christ from the be-
ginning proposed to set up a kingdom of a spiritual
character, and with high social aims, such as Eng-
lish churchmen delighted to picture and expected
to realize when established churches vvere in no
danger. But he has not seen, after all, the true na-
ture of Christ's kingdom, which is to be entered by
the strait gate of conversion, and to be composed
of men born again of the Spirit. " Marvel not
that I said unto you that ye must be born again."
Marvel not : it cannot be otherwise. Our nature
requires it ; and the kingdom is such that it requires
a radical change before men can enter it.
(4) There is a unity in his Work and in the
End which he seeks to accomplish. His mission
was one throughout, — that of one sent from the
Father, sent into the world for mercy and not for
judgment ; travelling ever with a heavy load upon
him, having for the fulfilling of his purposes to
suffer and to die. The load of responsibility is
284 APOLOGETICS.
seen to be lying upon him at the age of twelve.
" I must be about my Father's business ; " showing
that, while he was subject to Joseph and Mary, he
had another Father, and a work to do of which they
had no idea. He keeps the same aim before him
through all his pilgrimage, in all his discourses,
and in all his deeds.
Fortunately I am no*^ called in these Lectures to
enter on the wide subject of miracles, which I
have discussed elsewhere.* The school which I
am opposing, admitting no a priori XxwSh, cannot in
consistency urge any a -priori objections against
surpernatural occurrences. Mr. Mill in particular
has argued that it is possible to prove a miracle. |
I am in these Lectures to show that there is evidence
that Jesus performed deeds beyond the capacity of
man and the laws of nature.
We cannot take the discourses of our Lord and
reject his deeds. We cannot accept his words and
repel his. miracles. His discourses are among the
greatest of his miracles. They would have been a
miracle coming from any man, from a Greek in
the farthest advanced stag^e of his nation's culture :
they are, a fortiori, a miracle, as uttered by a work-
man from Galilee. We have evidence, it is con-
ceded, to prove that his natural life must have been
such as is detailed in the four Gospels ; and that he
delivered his discourses very much as they have
been reported. But it is impossible to separate be-
* The Supernatural in relation to the Natural,
t Logic, B. III. c. XXV.
MIRACLES AND SAVINGS. 285
tween his ordinary acts and discourses on the one
hand, and his miracles on the other : they are
woven through and throu<jh each other as weft and
wool". Tliey could be separated only by tearing
the garment to pieces. Let us notice that super-
natural acts are mixed up with every part of our
Lord's life ; in particular how they mingle with his
discourses, so that some of his profoundest say-
ings arose out of his miracles. We have a detailed
account in the Gospels of between thirt}^ and forty
miracles, besides such general references as, "Now
when the sun was setting, all they that had any
sick with divers diseases brought them unto him :
and he laid his hands on every one of them, and
healed them (Luke iv. 40, cf. Matt. viii. 16, Mark
i. 32) ; and again in his message to the Baptist
(Matt. xi. 5), "The blind receive their sight, and
the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deat
hear, the dead are raised up."
Let us look at some of these miracles, that we
may see how they are mixed up indissolubly with
some of the first and most peculiar features of his
character, and with some of the deepest of his say-
ings. His miracle of turning w^ater into wine is
associated with his sanctioning of marriage and the
marriage feast, and his delicate way of promoting
the social joys of the poor (John ii. i-ii). At his
first public appearance at Jerusalem, after the com-
mencement of his ministry, he performs such mir-
acles that Nicodemus comes to him and says, "No
man can do these miracles that thou doest, except
286 APOLOGETICS.
God be with him ; " and at the interview our Lord
tells him that a man enters the kingdom of God
by a spiritual change. The miraculous draught of
fishes (Luke v. i-ii) is associated with the charac-
teristic trait of Peter falling down at Jesus' knees,
saying, "Depart from me ; for I am a sinful man, O
Lord ; " and our Lord's giving so special a mission
to his disciples, " Fear not : from henceforth thou
shalt catch men." The fear of the apostles when
the storm arose to such a pitch on the Sea of Gali-
lee, our Lord's being asleep, and then rising and
rebuking the winds and the sea, is felt to be beauti-
fully symbolic and prophetic of his whole mission
(Matt. viii. 23-27 ; Mark iv. 35-41 ; Luke viii.
22-25). The raising of Jairus' daughter, and of
the widow's son at a later date, both illustrate his
sympathy with parents grieving over the death of
beloved children. The healing of the woman with
the issue of blood brings out some very interesting
features of the suppliant : she was unwilling to be
seen, and had such faith that she was sure that if
she " but touched the hem of his garment she would
be made whole ; " and when she was brought forth,
she came trembling, and he said, " Go in peace, and
be whole of thy plague." The healing of the para-
lytic (Matt. ix. 1-8) leads him to assume the power
of forgiving sins, and to connect his healing with
his forgiving power : "But that ye may know that
the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins
'then saith he to the sick of the palsy). Arise, take
up thy bed." The cleansing of the leper brings out
MIRACLES AND SAVINGS. 287
very beautifully the nature of faith, and the way in
which Jesus responds: "Lord, if thou wilt, thou
canst make me clean," to which the answer is, " I
will ; be thou clean " (Matt. viii. 2, 3). The healing
of the heathen centurion's servant (Matt. viii. 5-13 ;
and Luke vii. i-io) gives us glimpses of the in-
gathering of the Gentiles into the kingdom of God :
" I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no,
not in Israel." — "Many shall come from the east
and from the west, and shall sit down with Abraham
and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven."
The healing of the impotent man at the pool of
Bethesda, followed by our Lord's bidding him take
up his bed, and walk, on the Sabbath, leads him to
the condemnation of the Pharisaic view of the Sab-
bath, and the profound saying, " My Father worketh
hitherto, and I work" (John v. 17). The feeding
of the five thousand gives rise to that discourse
so full of spiritual meaning, in which our Lord
expounds his doctrine as to his body being meat
indeed, and his blood being drink indeed (John vi.
27 to end). His walking on the sea, and inviting
Peter to come to him, led to the declaration, "Be
of good cheer ; it is I ; be not afraid " (Matt. xiv.
22-23). The opening of the eyes of one born blind
originates all those deeply interesting and instructive
discourses in John ix., and to the man being cast out
of the synagogue. The restoring of the man with
the w^ithered hand leads to his gracious declaration,
"But if ye had known what this meaneth, I will
have mercy, and not sacrifice, ye would not have
288 APOLOGETICS.
condemned the guiltless," and to the true doctrine
of the Sabbath (Matt. xii. 7-13). The cleansing of
the ten lepers brings out the instructive incident so
characteristic of human nature, that only nine re-
turned to give thanks (Luke xvii. 11-19). The
healing of the daughter of the Syrophenician woman
unfolds the importunateness of faith and the cer-
tainty of its bringing a blessing. It is the finding
of the coin in the fish's mouth which leads him to
enforce the duty of paying tribute. The raising of
Lazarus discloses to our view nearly every tender
feature in our Lord's character : "Jesus wept." — " I
am the resurrection, and the life ; he that believeth
in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live : and
whosoever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never
die." The healing of Malchus' ear (Luke xxii.
49-51), besides being a proof of our Lord's ten-
derness in very trying circumstances, taught the
disciples the nature of the instruments by which
they were to propagate the truth ; that is, not by the
sword, but by spiritual weapons. The resurrection
of our Lord is the very keystone of the believer's
hopes. And what a rich fragrance gathers round
the incidents of our Lord's life after his resurrection,
from his rising from the grave to his ascending into
heaven I M. Renan allows that Jesus himself did
not distinguish between the natural and the super-
natural. I am sure that our Lord did not deceive
himself here. The supernatural was to him as easy
as the natural ; the supernatural was as it were
natural to him ; and the two so mingle in every
HIS MIRACLES AND MISSION. 289
part of his public life that it is vain to seek to sepa-
rate them, and to take the one without also taking
the other.
Our Lord's miracles are a piece with his dis-
courses, with his whole life, mission, and kingdom.
It has been asserted or insinuated that, though Jesus
may be supposed to have lived and to have spoken
very much as he is described, his miracles may
have been inserted by a later hand. But it is
utterly inconceivable that miracles thus added
should have so fitted into all the rest, — in design,
spirit, and moral and spiritual lessons. Who added
these miracles entirely in consonance with the
whole purport of our Lord's life ? Certainly not
Matthew or Mark, acknowledged to be men of no
genius or invention. If it be said that they rose up
as popular stories, the answer is at hand : They
would in this case have been incongruous, blunder-
ing, inconsistent, as all legends are. We know
what was the character of some of the legends
which sprang up about this time, — as, for example,
the miracles ascribed to Simon Magus by his
followers. He is represented as flying through the
air, as transforming himself into a serpent or goat,
as putting on two faces, as rolling himself unhurt
upon burning coals, as making statues to talk, and
dogs of brass or stone to bark.* Depend upon it,
this w^ould have been the sort of miracles ascribed
to our Lord, had they sprung from the wonder-
loving spirit of the times. I know a famous hall
* Trench's Notes on the Miracles, c. ii.
13
290
APOLOGETICS.
in a European city, left all but complete by the
architect when he died : he left only the stair and
one or two minor parts unfinished, but no living
man could carry out his grand conception ; and all
the portions added by others are acknowledged to
be failures. I hold that if Jesus had left any part
of his work unfinished, no man could have added
to it without the addition being seen to be an incon-
sistency and an encumbrance.
Our Lord's miracles were all essential parts of his
one consistent life. They were wrought as evi-
dences not only of his power, but of his mercy.
They were throughout moral in their character,
and spiritual in the ends contemplated by them.
They were in fact embodiments of his whole
character, exemplars of his whole teaching, em-
blems of his whole mission. They consisted almost
exclusively in the remedying of evils, in renova-
tions and regenerations. There were some ex-
ceptions no doubt, but these too were moral. There
w^ere, in particular, two miracles of judgment to
exhibit the justice of God ; but it is remarkable that
one of these was wrought on an unconscious fig-
tree, and the other on the lower animals, as if He
who came to save men's lives were unwilling to
smite them. Both were directed against hypocrisy
and inconsistency : in the one he smote the fig-tree,
which should in these regions have brought forth
first fruit and then leaves, but had produced leaves
and no fruit, — like too many professors of religion ;
by the other he punished the Gadarenes, who kept
MIRACLES OF HEALING.
291
swine contrary to the law of Moses, which they
professed to reverence. But, with these instructive
exceptions, all his other miracles were miracles
of restoring, of reviving, of saving ; and so were
symbols of the works of Him w^ho came to seek and
to save that which was lost. The parables of the
lost sheep brought back, of the lost money found,
of the lost son in his father's embrace, have all their
counterparts in the diseased being made w'hole, in
the lame walking, and the dead restored to life.
His grand redeeming and saving mission is seen
quite as clearly in his miracles as in his dis-
courses.
Every one must have observed that a large
number of the miracles of our Lord consist in the
healing of diseases. There was evidently a moral
meaning, a spiritual lesson, in this. Disease is to
the body what sin is to the soul : the one, like the
other, is a disorder, a derangement. The cure
of the one is a type of the healing of the other.
He w^ho removed the one showed that it was his
mission to remove the other likewise. He who
cured the paralytic showed that he had power on
earth to forgive sins : " But that ye may know that
the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive
sins (then saith he to the sick of the palsy), Arise,
take up thy bed, and walk. And he arose, and
departed to his house " (Matt. ix. 6). These two go
together : " Who forgiveth all thine iniquities ; who
healeth all thy diseases" (Ps. ciii. 3). Disease of
the body is an expressive and awful representation
292 APOLOGETICS.
of the evil of sin. And I have often thought that
particular diseases may be taken as furnishing af-
fecting pictures of particular sins, — in their power,
or their secrecy and subtlety, or their rapidity, or
their weakening and prostrating effect, or their
loathsomeness, or fatal issue. I believe that He
who when on earth healed all manner of disease
demonstrated thereb}^ that he can cure all kinds
of soul maladies. He who opened the eyes of the
blind meant thereby to show that he is able to open
the eyes of our understandings to discern the
beauty of spiritual things. He who unstopped the
ears of the deaf does still open the ear of faith, so
that it attends to the intimation of God's will, given
in his Word and by his Spirit. He who allayed
the burning fever does still assuage the fierce burn-
ings of wrath and malice. He who stopped the
issue of blood is powerful to stanch the outbursts
of lust and temper. He who restored to soundness
the encrusted and loathsome leper can make the
selfish man generous, and the licentious man pure.
He who made the lame to walk can rouse the dis-
abled and impotent from their lethargy, and make
them walk and run in the way of God's command-
ments. He who restored the withered hand does
still impart life to our palsied faculties. He who
calmed the demoniac, that could not be bound by
cords or chains, can bring down and subdue the
man of raging passion, and make him " sit at his
feet clothed, and in his right mind." Other miracles
teach the same lessons, all in unison with his dis-
CHRIST'S SUFFERINGS. 293
courses. He who walked on the sea and calmed
the agitated waters, is above all the powers of na-
ture, and can still the troubles that rage around
us, so that there is a great calm. He who fed
the multitudes gives to his people "bread to eat
of which the world knoweth not." He who raised
the dead does still quicken the spiritually dead, and
-restore them to newness of life.
As he draws near the close of his earthly pil-
grimage, he explains more fully the nature of his
mission, and the way in which he was- to accomplish
it, by suffering and dying. "The Son of man came
to seek and to save that which was lost." He refers
in mysterious language to the terrible conflict by
w^hich this was to be effected : "I have a baptism to
be baptized with ; and how am I straitened till it be
accomplished." He shows his disciples (Matt. xvi.
21), "that he must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer
many things of the elders, and chief priests, and
Scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third
day." John xii. 27: "Now is my soul troubled;
and what shall I say? Father, save me from this
hour." In instituting the m.ost significant and
solemn rite of our religion, he points to his death
as a sacrifice and an atonement for sin : "This cup
is the New Testament in my blood, shed for many
for the remission of sins." In the garden he is "in
agony," and in the struggle prays that the cup may
pass from him, adding, "Nevertheless, not my will,
but thine, be done." On the cross he had to say :
"My God, ni}^ God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
294 APOLOGETICS.
When this question is put, no answer is given.
To that forsaken son the Father deigns no reply.
Let us come to the foot of the cross, and answer,
" He was wounded for our transgressions, he was
bruised for our iniquities."
Science seems to be joining with our felt experi-
ence to show that our world has within deranging
as well as arranging powers. Later research has
taught no lesson so specially and effectively as this,
that there has been a contest in our world from the
beginning, a war of elements, a struggle of races.
It is seen in the geological ages, as an anticipation
of the deeper struggle in the historic ages, when
human beings appear on the scene ; and it becomes
a contest between man and man, between sin and
holiness. And is this to go on for ever, deepening,
widening, as higher forces appear on the field, and
weapons of a more terrible power come to be em-
ployed in the fight? With a God looking down
from above, we are sure that this is not to be so.
But what is there in our world to stop this contest,
and insure the victory on the right side? There is
no sufficiency in the physical agencies to do it.
The power which knowledge gives may only place
new^ weapons in the hands of evil. Nor is thare
any security that mental agencies will certainly
accomplish it. For in this field passion excites
passion, fire kindles fire, war breeds war, — as wave
meets wave the gurgitation is increased. Yet we
are sure that, under the government of a good God,
the evil will at las.t be put under. And in Him wdio
RECONCJLlAriON EFFECTED. 295
was sent forth in the fulness of thne we see how all
this is to be accomplished. It is done by reaching
the root of the evil. It is done, first, by the Son
glorifying God. It is done in the work of the
appointed Reconciler, by whom the law was mag-
nified and made honorable, and divine justice sat-
isfied, while room was opened up for the fullest
manifestation of mercy. It is done in the name and
nature of those who had so dishonored God ; so that
as by man God has been dishonored, so by man
God is now glorified. All this is done in the very
scene in which the wickedness of man had been so
great ; so that as on the earth God had been so dis-
honored, on earth God is now glorified. This is ac-
complished, secondly, by making provision through
pardon and reconciliation to gain the heart of the
sinner, and by his spirit to subdue the love and
dominion of sin, and set men forth on a course of
new obedience. And in accomplishing all this he
stirs up intelligence, which lessens the physical
evils in our world, diminishes the virulence of
disease, and lengthens the average life of mankind.
The inspired writers had foretold all this, probably
without seeing the full meaning of the language
they employed. For from the beginning they spoke
of seed of the woman who was to crush the head of
the Evil One ; of a seed of Abraham, in whom all
the nations of the earth were to be blessed. And
Paul opens to us glimpses of a yet wider reconcilia-
tion, in which all the warring elements are to be
embraced : " And having made peace through the
296 APOLOGETICS.
blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things to
himself; by him, I say, whether they be things in
earth, or things in heaven."
The old question is still pertinent : " Whence hath
this man this wisdom and these mighty works? Is
not this the carpenter's son? Is not his mother
called Mary? And his brethren James, and Joses,
and Simon, and Judas? And his sisters, are they
not all with us? Whence, then, hath this man all
these things ? " There can be but one satisfactory
answer : He brought them with him from heaven.
X.
The Planting of the Christian Church. — Legendary
AND Mythic Theories. — Accordance of the Book of
Acts with Geography and History. — Coincidences
between Acts and Paul's Epistles. — Present Posi-
tion of Christianity.
" I ^HERE is, let me suppose, an intelligent, well
educated youth, — say a Hindoo of the Brah
minical caste, — with no prepossession for or against
Christianity, but anxious to know whether it has tlie
sanction of God. He knows what it is now as
exhibited in the Books of the Bible, and the beliefs
and lives of Christians ; but he wishes to ascertain
what is its origin, — from earth or from heaven ? For
this purpose he goes back to a point when there is
no dispute about its being in existence, about its
being firmly rooted and having become a power in
the world. He takes his stand at the beginning of
the second century, or about seventy, or between that
and one hundred years after the death of Christ. He
searches the history of the times, and finds a number
of points estabHshed by evidence, which can be set
aside only on principles tliat would undermine all
history. First, he finds that Christianity was then
widely spread, had numerous adherents in the prin-
cipal Greek cities, in Rome, and in nearly every
13*
298 APOLOGETICS.
province of the Roman Empire ; and that the mem-
bers exhibited certain marked characters, in par-
ticular holding firmly by their convictions, and
submitting in consequence to the bitterest persecu-
tions. He will find, too, that they claimed Jesus as
the founder of their faith, and that it was allowed by
all that this Jesus was crucified at Jerusalem when
Tiberius was Emperor of Rome and Pontius Pilate
was governor of Judea. Tacitus writing about seventy
years after the crucifixion, and speaking of the fire
which consumed a large portion of the city of Rome
in the reign of Nero, — that is, a little more than thirty
years after our Lord's death, — tells us that, in order
to do away with the imputation under which he lay
of ordering the city to be set on fire, he threw the
blame on the Christians. " To put an end to the
report, he laid the guilt, and inflicted the most cruel
punishments, upon a set of people who were abhorred
for their crimes, and called Christians by the people -
The founder of that name was Christ, who suffered
death in the reign of Tiberius, under his procurator,
Pontius Pilate. This hurtful superstition, thus
checked for a time, broke out again, and spread
not only over Judea, where the evil originated, but
through Rome also, to which every thing bad finds
its way, and in which it is practised. Some who
confessed that they belonged to the sect were first
seized; and afterwards, on their information, a vast
multitude were apprehended and convicted, not so
much of the crime of burning Rome as of hatred to
mankind. Their sufferings at their execution were
EARLY SPREAD OF THE GOSPEL. 299
aggravated b}- insult and mockery ; for some were
disguised in the skins of wild beasts and worried to
death by dogs, some were crucified, others were
wrapt in pitch and set on fire when the day closed,
that they might serve to illumine the night. Nero
lent his gardens for these exhibitions, and exhibited
at the same time a mock Circensian entertainment,
and was a spectator of the whole in the dress of a
charioteer, sometimes mirglincj with the crowd on
foot, and sometimes viewing the spectacle from his
car. This conduct made the sufferers pitied ; and
though they were criminals, and deserving the
severest punishment, yet they were regarded as
sacrificed, not for the public good, but to gratify the
cruelty of one man." Suetonius, who lived at the
same time with Tacitus, refers to them in the same
way : "The Christians, a set of men of a new and
evil superstition, were punished." But the most
remarkable testimony in their behalf is given by
Pliny the Younger, a very thoughtful and elegant
writer, in what may be regarded as an official letter
to Trajan, his master, the emperor. In the year
A.D. 112 he is governor of Pontus and Bithynia, and
he thus writes of the Christians, that they were
" many of every age, and of both sexes. Nor has the
contagion prevailed among cities only, but among
villages and country districts." He tells us that
" accusations, trials, examinations, were and had
been going on against them in the provinces over
which he presided ; that schedules were delivered
by anonymous informers, containing the names of
300 APOLOGE TICS.
persons who were suspected of holding or favoring
the religion ; that in consequence of these informa-
tions many had been apprehended, of whom some
boldly avowed their profession and died in the
cause." About the same time contemptuous allu-
sions were made to their suffering's and their forti-
tude or obstinate attachment to their belief by the
popular satirists, Juvenal and Martial, and at a
somewhat later date by the philosophic Marcus
Aurelius.*
These aretestimoniesby heathen writers, who lived
altogether out of the circle of the new religion, who
did not profess to understand it, and who despised it
in their ignorance, but whose declarations prove that
it arose at a particular time and in a particular way,
and was extensively known by the end of the first
century. It can be proven by indubitable evidence,
and is admitted on all hands, that by that time the
gospel, coming from Judea only sixty or seventy
years before, had been preached for a witness in
nearly every country of the wide Roman Empire,
and in some regions beyond. It was known in the
palace of the Ceesars, and had been proclaimed to
Greeks and barbarians, bond and free. It had at-
tained a firm footing in the great cities, the centres of
power and enlightenment, — in Rome, in Corinth, in
Ephesus, in Antioch, in Alexandria. It had planted
stations in various parts of North Africa between
Jigypt and Carthage. In the West it had a hold in
Spain, in Gaul, and perhaps as far as Britain. In
* Tacitus, Ann: xv. 44. Suetonius, Nero c. 16. Juvenal,
iat. I. 155.
EARLY WRITINGS. 301
the East it was known in Arabia, in Parthia, some
think as far as India. It had defied the edicts of
emperors, stood firm amidst the tumults of the
people, and come forth purified by the fires of per-
secution. Everywhere it had exerted a moral influ-
ence, so that a learned apologist, writing a little
later, could say : " We, who formerly delighted in
vicious excesses, are now temperate and chaste ; we,
who once practised magical arts, have consecrated
ourselves to the good and unbegotten ; we, who once
prized gain above all things, give even what we
have to the common use, and share it with such as
are in need ; we, who once hated and murdered one
another, who, on account of diflerence of customs,
could have no common hearth with strangers, now,
since the appearance of Christ, live together with
them. We pray for our enemies; we seek to per-
suade those who hate us without cause to live con-
formably to the goodly precepts of Christ, that they
may become partakers with us of the joyful hope of
blessings from God, the Lord of all."*
But in addition to this we have a whole series of
writings. We have, very much as we now have
them, the Four Gospels, with the connected history
of the life of Jesus, of his parables and other dis-
courses, and of his wonderful acts of love. It is
admitted on all hands that between a.d. 150 and
A.D. 200, the present Four Gospels were univer-
sally acknowledged by the church as written by the
authors whose names they bear, and as of divine
* Justin Martyr. See Killen's "Ancient Church," p. 276.
302 APOLOGETICS.
authority ; and that they were translated into Latin
and Syriac. But their general acceptance at that
time over all the scattered churches implies a long
previous existence. The First Gospel has been uni-
versally regarded as written by Matthew, and ad-
dressed specially to the Hebrews. Papias, who w^as
Bishop of Hierapolis, in Phrygia, the beginning of
the second century, is quoted by Eusebius (Hist.
Eccl. iii. ■^^^ as referring to the Gospel by Matthew ;
and from that date downward there is a chain of
witnesses in its behalf. We have like evidence in
favor of Mark's Gospel. Eusebius (iii. 39) quotes
from Papias the testimony of John the Presbyter,
that Mark, as the interpreter of Peter, gave an
account of the deeds of Jesus. It is admitted on all
hands that it was the same author w^ho wrote the
Third Gospel and the Book of Acts ; and both
must have been published long before the end of
the first century. Attempts have been made to
throw the composition of John's Gospel down to
the middle of the second century ; but these have
utterly failed. Irenaeus, who w^as the scholar of
Polycarp, the disciple of John himself, ascribes the
Gospel to John. "John, the disciple of our Lord,
w'ho leaned upon his bosom, did himself publish a
Gospel while dwelling at Ephesus, in Asia " (Contra
Haar. iii. i). All this has been confirmed in our
day by the recovery of the long-lost Philosophou-
menon of Hippolytus, who w^as Bishop of Pontus in
the first half of the third century. In this work
Hippolytus quotes Basihdes, who lived in the reign
PAUL'S EPISTLES. 303
of Adrian, a.d. 111-138, and makes use of St. John
and St. Luke. He quotes John i. 9 : " That was
the true Light, which lighteth every man that com-
eth into the world;" and John ii. 4, "Mine hour is
not yet come."
Then we have the Epistles of Paul. I believe
that by this time we have the whole of them known
more or less throughout the church. It is acknowl-
edged on all hands that we have some of them,
and these for doctrinal and historical purposes the
most important of any, at least thirty years before
the close of the century. These have stood un-
shaken all the destructive assaults of modern
German criticism. Baur allows that the Epistle
to the Romans, the two Epistles to the Corinth-
ians, the Epistle to the Galatians, are genuine,
and were written by Paul not long after the middle
of the first century. M. Renan argues that the
two Epistles to the Thessalonians and the Epistle to
the Philippians are the works of the apostle, and
that it is probable that he also wrote the Epistle to
the Colossians, and the characteristic letter to Phil-
emon.* I believe that the very same arguments,
— the sameness in doctrine, in style of writing, and
in the personal characteristics of the apostle, —
would prove that the Epistle to the Ephesians and
the Epistles to Timothy were written by Paul.
There are the same deep truths underlying them all,
the same doctrines of predestination, election, re-
demption by blood, salvation by grace, the necessity
* Saint Paul. Introd.
304
APOLOGETICS.
of regeneration, faith, and holiness, and the same
ardor of spirit, and the same impetuosity and abrupt-
ness of style. But it is not needful for my purpose
to defend the whole of this ground. It is enough
for me that the letter to the metropolis of the world,
with its salutations to Christians there ; that two
letters to the chief commercial city of Greece ; that
letters to another Grecian city, to a Macedonian
city, and to a scattered Celtic people in the province
of Galatia, are allowed to have been written by Paul
within less than an age of the death of Christ, —
within a shorter time after the death of Christ than
has elapsed since most of those now before me began
to interest themselves in public events. In these
Epistles we have all the essential truths of Christian-
ity set forth, — the doctrines of the sinfulness of man,
of justification by faith, of the divinity of our Lord,
of purification by the Spirit ; we have glimpses of the
mode of worship followed by the early Christians, of
their churches "in the house," of their prayers, and
the observance of the Lord's Supper ; of the diffi-
culties which the Gentiles experienced in eating
things offered to idols, and which the Jews felt 'n
reconciling their reverence for the law with their
devotion to the gospel ; we have notices of the dis-
putes that were springing up, of the predictions of
a coming apostasy ; while we have everywhere
moral precepts, pure as the atmosphere of heaven,
and suited to the life we have to lead on earth : as
Rom. xii. i : " I beseech you therefore, brethren, by
the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a
BOOK OF ACTS. 305
living sacrifice, lioly, acceptable unto God, which is
your reasonable service. And be not conformed to
this world ; but be ye transformed by the renewing
of your mind;" and i Cor. xiii. 4: "Charity sufter-
eth long, and is kind ; charity envieth not ; charity
vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave
itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily
provoked, thinkethno evil ; rejoiceth not in iniquity,
but rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things, belie v-
eth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things."
Besides these, we have a very important history,
professedly by the same who wrote the Third Gos-
pel, by one who travelled with the apostle, who
introduces himself to us simply by changing /le 01
t/iey into zve, when he is with Paul, as Acts xvi.
10: "And after /le had seen the vision, immediately
■we endeavored to go into Macedonia, assuredly
gathering, that the Lord had called us for to preach
the gospel unto them. Therefore loosing from Troas,
ive came with a straight course to Samothracia,"
&c. ; and it has been remarked that when he uses
the we, the narrative is always fuller and more
minute. This Book of Acts, M. Renan shows,
must have been published at least by the year 80
of our Lord.* I believe it was written earlier, as, if
it had not been written before that time, it would not
have left Paul in his own hired house in Rome ;
but would have contained an account of the tragic
scenes connected with Paul's death. I\L Renan
is sure this book was written by Luke, the phy-
* Les Ap6tres, p. xxii.
3o6 APOLOGETICS.
sician, and contains a substantially correct account
of the life and travels of Paul, written in the true
manner of history, in a, calm, a charitable, and
truly catholic spirit, and in accordance with the
history of the times.
Such is the historic phenomenon that presents
itself at the opening of the second century : a wide-
spread faith in Jesus, influencing the inner life and
outward conduct, and, as is admitted by their ene-
mies, a pure morality on the part of Christians ;
with certain books, — four histories of the most
remarkable man (to say the least) that ever lived ;
a number of Epistles addressed to Christians, ex-
pounding their doctrine and revealing the inner
springs of their life ; and we have what seems prima
facie a clear, accurate, and consistent account of
the way in which all this was produced. Here
there is a phenomenon to be accounted for, what
will be acknowledged to be a very wonderful phe-
nomenon, and a very complex phenomenon, — a new
life appearing simultaneously in very different coun-
tries, among Jews and Gentiles, in Rome and all its
diverse provinces, among urban and rural popula-
tions, among Greeks and barbarians ; in and along
with this a series of works, biographies, histories,
expositions of doctrine and precept, all tending to
one point. How, then, are we to account for this?
There is one way of accounting for it ; and that
is the simple, the obvious one, that the books speak
the truth about Jesus, about Paul and the propaga-
tion of the gospel. Adopt this hypothesis, and we
INFIDEL HYPOTHESES. 307
can understand the whole, — understand how the
new life sprang up, how the faith was propagated,
how the doctrine arose, how the precepts came to
be so pure. In scientific investigation men form an
hypothesis, and then inquire whether facts corre-
spond. Newton supposed that all matter attracted
other matter inversely according to the square of
the distance ; and the h3^pothesis was found to ac-
count for the whole movements of the heavenly
bodies, which all became verifications of what New-
ton supposed to be the law of the solar system.
Adopt the hypothesis that Jesus was what he is
represented, and the whole of the books and the
history becomes a verification.
Any other theory that may be propounded can
be shown to be utterly insufficient to explain the
phenomenon, to be inconsistent with the body of
facts taken as a whole. Let us look at some of
these suppositions.
First, the whole is a contrivance, an organized
deceit, a cunningly devised fable of designing men.
Strange as it may sound, this is the conclusion to
which some of the later German infidels have been
obliged to come, as finding that all other supposi-
tions, the legendary and the mythic, cannot stand a
sifting examination. Some persons known, — say
Peter and John, followed by Paul. — or some persons
unknown because kept out of sight, deliberately
planned a false system and palmed it upon the
world. This will be the conclusion to whicli men
will have to come in the end in regard to Mor-
3o8 APOLOGETICS.
monism ; and this is in fact the last resort to which
infidels have been obliged to betake themselves in
regard to Christianity, because every other supposi-
tion has failed. Even Strauss, though leaning mainly
on a vague mythical hypothesis, is obliged to say : *
" The narratives of the Fourth Gospel, especially,
are for the most part so methodically framed, so
carried out into detail, that, if they are not histor-
ical, they can apparently only be considered as
conscious and intentional fictions." And yet how
monstrous the supposition ! Scheming men, I
admit, have studiously started plans of deceit to
gratify their pride or lust or ambition, and have
obstinately stood by them when opposed. But what
motives could any man have to invent a religion
like that of Jesus, wdiich requires us to take up
our cross, if we would follow him? But I stand
on yet firmer ground, when I maintain that it
could not have entered into the heart of any man
to conceive a life and a morality like that of
Jesus; to picture one of so pure an aim, and to
put into his mouth the Sermon on the Mount or the
parable of the prodigal son. The great body of
sceptics have resorted to more ingenious and plausi-
ble suppositions.
It was at one time maintained that the whole
phenomenon originated in Legends. There was a
foundation of fact it was allowed : there was one
named Jesus who exercised a mighty power, first
in the obscure province of Galilee, and next in
* New Life of Jesus, p. 208.
j^KGENDART IITPOTHESIS. 309
Judea ; and then there gathered around him a host
of stories, which increased as they spread, till now
no critic is able to determine what nucleus of truth
there may have been in the comet to lead on the neb-
ulous accompanying matter. Now I at once admit
that such legends are found in all countries, and that
they might have appeared in the Christian Church ;
in fact they did rise to a most injurious excess in
the Middle Ages, and have been incorporated into
its faith by the Romish Church. But then such
legends have certain marks, and can easily be
detected. They are commonly wavering and
uncertain, and assume different forms in different
districts of country and in different ages. The
popular legends of all nations have been full of
glaring inconsistencies, — inconsistencies in respect
of time, locality, and incident, and of the represen-
tation of character, and the embodiment of ethical
precept or religious dogma. Who shall be so bold
as to attempt to bring any thing like unity out of
the legends of the Indians in this country ; or of
King Arthur in ancient Britain ; or of the Argo-
nautic expedition, the hunting of the boar of Caly-
don, the siege of Thebes, or the siege of Troy, in
ancient Greece? If we have these fables relate^d
by only one writer, there may be something like a
connected narrative ; but when they are given us
by various narrators, the contradictions become
glaring beyond the possibility of even an attempted
reconciliation. Now the New Testament bears on
the very face of it that it is the work of a number
3IO APOLOGETICS.
of writers placed in different circumstances, and
with different natural tastes, temperaments, and
styles of composition : and yet in their writings we
have a most wonderful unity, and this in the sub-
jects about which the popular mind is most apt to
be confused, — a unity in the ethical system, in the
graces of the Christian character, for example^ ; a
unit}' in the grand religious doctrines, as in the view
given of the Word becoming flesh, and of sin and
salvation ; and, above all, a unity in the character of
Jesus, who is placed in a great variety of positions,
and yet is everywhere one and the same. The wisest
opponents of Christianity have come to see this, and
have abandoned the Legendary hypothesis as one
utterly inapplicable to such connected discourses as
the parables of our Lord, and such well-reasoned
compositions as those of the Apostle Paul.
But another theory has been devised and elabo-
rated with imposing skill and learning, and has
deceived not a few scholars ignorant of the world,
though it is not likely to tell with men of good sense,
who have had much acquaintance with the motives
which sway mankind. It is what is called the
Mythic Theory. It is shown that most nations which
have risen above barbarism have been in the way of
fashioning myths. These differ in many respects
from legends. The legend has always a foundation
in fact, to which, however, additions have been made
in the shape of new, commonly lively incidents
likely to strike the popular fancy, and, as being easily
remembered, to go down by tradition to future ages.
MYTHIC HYPOTHESIS. 3II
Myths may, or quite as likely may not, have a
foundation of fact. They originate in some popular
idea or belief, which has somehow or other come to
be very generally entertained ; and they are devised
to account for it, to justify it, — in one word, to sat-
isfy it. A tribe has grown up with certain predi-
lections, perhaps with a strong vanity in a certain
direction, possibly with a very determined ambition
to secure certain coveted possessions. To justify all
this, a story is devised as to some incident sup-
posed to have occurred at the formation of the
tribe • or as to the father of their race, and some
fe?^ which he performed, or some promise or bless-
ing or inheritance which he left them. The story
at once seizes the popular mind : it so fits into
the prevalent prepossession and belief, that it is
generally accepted. It needs no evidence : it
recommends itselt", and passes current from mouth
:o mouth, and at last may become embodied in
verse. German scholars have busily employed
themselves in showing how these myths arise ; in
tracing them in their earliest shape, and following
them down to their latest forms : have shown how
they have been handed down from one generation
to another, and under what modifications they have
migrated from country to country, and gone out
from the mother country with a colon}' to a distant
region. As might have been expected, there has
been an attempt made to appl}^ this Mythic Theory
to explain the rise of the gospel faith and the books
of the New Testament. But the attempt, while it has
312 APOLOGETICS.
taken with some who have spent most of their time
in their hbraries, is now seen by all men of common
sense, who know mankind, to be quite as great a
failure as that founded on the Legendary Theory.
Give us an idea of any kind widely entertained, and
it will ver}' likely generate a myth to vindicate it.
Let a people believe that they have a right to a cer-
tain stream, temple, or country, or pre-eminence
among the nations, and there will be a story to
justify it all. With a deep conviction in the truth
of Christianity, the medisevals invented and cher-
ished many silly, but also some beautiful tales of the
saints. If we could conceive of the rise of Christian
faith in the first century by natural means, we could
conceive that there might be myths in the second cen-
tur}^ According to the Mythical Theory, a religious
consciousness of a peculiar character appeared in
the first century, beginning at Judea ; and b}^ the
opening of the second century it had reached every
province of the Roman world. This gave rise to
myths ; and these myths committed to writing are
the Four Gospels, the Book of Acts, and some say
the Epistles of Paul.
Now, upon this I would remark, in the first place,
that the most difficult part of the complicated phe-
nomenon is not explained by this hypothesis ; on
the contrary, it is assumed. Whence this religious
consciousness, this new life so different from any
thing that had appeared before, or that has appeared
since, — except, indeed, what has been produced
indirectly by Christianity? Whence this morality so
THE RELIGIOUS CONSCIOUSNESS. 313
self-sacrificing, so pure, so tender? Whence this
conception of Jesus, — evidently the foundation of
the whole, — of his work, his character, his aims?
The Jewish mind, so narrow and so sectarian, was
utterly incapable of such enlargement ; the subtle
and sensuous Greek was not susceptible of such
simplicity, of such spirituality; and the dreamy
Orientalist could not have imparted such definiteness
and practical adaptedness to the doctrines and
the precepts. The first thing to be explained is
this consciousness, not, be it remarked, of one
mind, but of multitudes embracing Christianity, in
countries widely separated from each other, and
gathered out of all grades of society. But, suppos-
ing the feeling to have been gendered, the second
difficulty is to show how it could produce not myths,
but such myths, — the sayings of our Lord, his dis-
courses, his parables, his acts in entire conformity
with them ; the history of tlip travels of Paul, and
the Epistles attributed to him. There is nothing
parallel to this in the history of the world. They
tell us that the founder of Buddhism was a sincere
man, impressed with the grossness of the Brahmin-
ical system, and that he earnestly labored to effect
a reformation, and raised up a body of followers
who submitted to sufferings as great as the early
Christians. Be it so, that the man was seized with
a desire to remove evil, and that his comparatively
pure but inane system kindled an enthusiasm in
himself and his followers, we want entirely the
other elements which we have in the early church :
14
314
APOLOGETICS.
we have no books like the Gospels, no narrative
geographically and historically correct like the Book
of Acts, no ratiocinations and spiritual appeals like
those of Paul.
The Mythic Theory is thus seen to be utterly in-
adequate to explain the phenomenon. That theory
is that an idea gave rise to a story. But the first
difficulty is to get such an idea without the story.
And the second is to get such a story, so connected,
so consistent, out of a floating idea. And the advo-
cates of the theory are not to be allowed to perpe-
trate the palpable " reasoning in a circle,'' involved
in first creating the idea in order to get the stor}^
and then using the story to get the idea. I am now
to call attention to a series of facts and considera-
tions utterly inconsistent both with the Legendary
and Mythic theories.
(i) There is a confoniiity hetivccn these early
books and the geography of the countries. This
is a very satisfactory point. Legends and myths
pay little or no regard to topographical accuracy.
There may be a general reference to some well-
known mountain, or river, or fountain, or town, to
give verisimilitude to the narrative, but this was
reckoned enouo-h in a<;es when there was no criti-
cs o
cism to dispute the popular belief; and as to details,
the inventors were not at the trouble to make their
stor}' correspond to the actual state of things..
Scholars have given us geographies according to
Homer, geographies according to the tale of the
Argonautic expedition ; but they do not attempt to
GEOGRAPHICAL ACCORDANCE. 315
make these agree with the position of sea and kind.
Some have been at great pains to discover the places
mentioned in the legends of King Arthur, but have
found the work hopeless : there are half a dozen
places from the south of England on to the middle of
Scotland which claim to be the burial-place of Ar-
thur's queen. He would be a bold man who should
attempt to sketch the geography of the travels of
Hiawatha. But every place visited by our Lord in
his tours can be pointed out. Some years ago the
little town of Ephraim was discovered by Robinson,
and settled a number of difficult points ; and now it
is thought that we can fix on the precise spot where
Capernaum stood, which is identified by certain fish
still found in a well, and mentioned as being there
by Josephus.
Then we have all seen maps of the travels of St.
Paul in strict accordance with the geography of the
countries, and also with the narrative of Luke, and
the occasional allusions in St. Paul's Epistles. Let
us use as a guide-book that able and most accurate
work, Con3beare and Howson's St. Paul, and it
will enable us to follow the apostle from city to
city, from country to country, over land and sea,
from the time he enters on his first missionary tour
at Antioch in a.d. 48, till he arrives as a prisoner in
Rome, in a.d. 61. The unchanging state of tilings
in the East, the sameness of the roads and routes
irom the earliest date down to the present time, the
existence of the old cities, — it maybe in a decaying
state, or in ruins, — enable us under such a guide to
3l6 APOLOGETICS.
follow Paul, with the fullest assurance that we are
treading in his footsteps ; and we see that every
thing confirms the history of Luke and the allusions
in the Epistles. Curious coincidences are ever
casting up to verify the whole narrative. At Perga
in Pamphylia, John Mark left Paul and Barna-
bas, not being willing to engage in the work ; and
no v.'onder, for Paul and Barnabas as we learn, not
from the Acts but otherwise, were about to enter on
a very difficult and dangerous journey through a
wild mountain country with bold precipices and deep
ravines, and infested by robbers and wild marauders,
who kept the peaceful inhabitants in a state of terror
and often prevented powerful armies from passing
through the region. At Lystra the people proposed
to offer sacrifice to Barnabas and Paul, supposing
them to have been Jupiter and Mercury ; and we
know from other quarters that this region was
inhabited by an ignorant and superstitious people,
who had a tradition among them that these two
gods had appeared to their forefathers in human
form.
We can easily conceive that a legend or a myth
might have arisen about Paul journeying to Rome
and suffering shipwreck. The persons who invented
or propagated it would, however, be at no pains to
seek after a minute accuracy. But the whole ac-
count given in Acts is minutely accordant with the
mode of travelling at that time, with the routes
usually pursued, and with the direction of the winds
at the season. The centurion takes a passage in a
I
PAUL'S SHIPWRECK. 317
merchant vessel bound for Adramyttum, and this
vessel touches at Myra, a seaport in Lycia. There
the centurion found a ship which suited his purpose :
it was a ship of Alexandria, bound for Italy, being
evidently a corn ship carrying provisions to the
crowded population in the centre of the Roman
Empire. Some years ago Mr. Smith of Jordan
Hill, a gentleman well acquainted with nautical
affairs, set out in a vessel of his own to verify the
account given by Luke ; and he found it to corre-
spond in every particular with the prevailing winds
and currents, and with the geography of the Isle of
Malta. Referring to Mr. Smith's book as giving
particular details, I must confine myself to the ac-
count which he gives of the wreck thus summarized
by Dr. Howson : In the first place, we are told that
they became aware of land by the presence of
breakers, and yet without striking ; and at this point
it is certain from the structure of the strand that
there must have been violent breakers that night,
with a north-easterly wind. At this day the sound-
ings as taken by Mr. Smith were found to be twenty
fathoms, and a little farther on fifteen fathoms. It
may be said that this in itself is nothing remarkable.
But if we add that the fifteen fathoms' depth is the
direction of the vessel's drift W. b}' N. from the
twenty fathoms' depth, the coincidence is startling.
Again, the character of the coast on the farther side
of the bay is such that, though the greater part of it
is fronted with rocky precipices, there are one or
two indentations which exhibit the appearance of a
3l8 APOLOGETICS.
creek, \vith a shore described as a sandy or pebbly
shore. This spot as seen from the vessel would
appear like a place between two seas, and into it
the}' ran. Finally, referring to the fact of the
anchors holding during that terrible night, we find
in the English Official Sailing Directions that the
ground in St. Paul's Bay is so good that, while the
cables hold, there is no danger, as the anchors will
never start. All these facts seem to prove that this
Melita must be the modern Malta, and that the nar-
rative of Luke is in every respect and circumstan-
tially correct.
(2) There is an accordance between the state
of society and the history of the fcriod on the one
hand, and the Book of Acts and the Efistlcs
of Paul upon the other. There is no historical
work of ancient times which gives us so clear and
faithful a picture of the condition of the world at
the time as the Book of Acts ; and it is all in
congruity with the accounts given otherwise. First,
the Jews are brought under our view : both those
who were settled in Jerusalem, living on their past
glory, and expecting a future earthly grandeur,
w^iich was never to be realized by them ; and then
those who were scattered throughout the Greek
cities, carrying on various branches of industry
with tenacity and perseverance, but utterly sepa-
rated, socially and religiousl}', from the people
among whom they sojourned — as they thought only
temporarily, and cherishing the idea of returning
to their land to share in its coming glories. All
GREEK-SPEAKING PEOPLE. 319
of them are discontented with the condition in
which they find themselves, and are looking for a
Messiah to bring in a better state of things, but
with very different ideas and expectations as to
what the character of this Deliverer should be, —
some, indeed, expecting such a one as the prophets
described to work a moral reformation, but the
great body of them longing for a mere temporal
prince, or more commonly expecting the Messiah
to coniirm and consolidate their hard, formal,
and self-righteous s3-stem of religious beliefs and
services. And so we see a number of them
expecting Jesus, and waiting anxiously for him ;
while the people as a whole crucified Christ, and
persecuted his followers in the vain thought that
they would crush the new evangelical faith on the
instant and for ever.
Then we have a picture of the Greek-speaking
population in the great cities, as in Antioch,
in Paphos, in Ephesus, Athens, and Corinth.
In these we see what the Greek civilization,
spread by the conquests of Alexander the Great,
could accomplish. The great body of the people
are degraded, with no attempt made by philoso-
phers or scholars to elevate them : philosophers
are spending their intellectual power in sophistic
subtleties ; the upper classes have a sensuous, and
some of them a literary, refinement, but as a whole
they give themselves up to pleasures, to games
and theatres, and worse indulgences, — paiderastia
and association with hetairai being practised with-
320 APOLOGETICS.
out shame and without remorse. Such a people
were not fit to resist the advancing power of the
Romans, in fact fell under their dominion more
easily than the Carthaginians, the Germans, the
Gauls, or the Britons did. This Greek people,
living in barbarous countries, had no public or
patriotic purpose to live for : they felt that it was
of no use resisting the Roman dominion, and in
fact had no inclination to make the effort. Their
old religion had very much lost its hold upon them,
and they knew of no better ; and having no high aim
before them, either for this life or the life to come,
they thought that there was nothing for them but to
seek and obtain as many of the enjoyments of this
world as possible. " Let us eat and drink, for
to-morrow we die." A people so situated and so
acting must, like the leaves of autumn, so ditTerent
from the leaves supported by fresh sap in spring,
fade and rot and disappear, as in fact all their
once famous cities did ; so that it is difficult, as to
some of them, to find the places where they once
were.
Then we have the Romans establishing a strong
government, allowing no one to speak or act
against the authority of Caesar or the Roman
people, insisting everywhere on obedience and
order, arresting lawlessness wherever it appeared,
and furnishing facilities for travelling, and thus
allowing commerce and knowledge to spread with
their civilizing influences ; but, we have to add,
seeking in no way to improve or to encourage free-
THE ROMANS. 32 1
dom and independence, or the morals or religion
of the people. The upper classes in Rome were
losing the stern virtues of their fathers, and acquir-
ing- the levities of the Greeks without their refine-
ment. In the Herods, — grandfather, fathers, and
children, — and in Pontius Pilate, and Festus, and
Felix, we have a pictuie of the sort of men sent
out by the emperors to rule the provinces ; and
there was nothing in the character of the soldiery
in a garrison city to improve the morals or refine
the manners of the citizens. We perceive the
upper classes, both Greeks and Romans, losing
their faith in the old superstitions of their nations ;
and, in their anxiety to have something deeper and
better to rest on, betaking themselves to soothsayers
and astrologers, who deceived them by pretending
to convey supernatural communications, and by
the lying wonders which they wrought.
Then we have a picture of the great mass of the
people, rude and ignorant, with no s\'stematic at-
tempts to educate or to elevate them, dividing their
time between servile work and debasing pleas-
ures, believing in their gross hereditary supersti-
tions, and irritated at all who would disturb them
in their beliefs or in their practices ; but some
of them maintaining an earnestness of belief, an
honest industry, and love of independence, such
as had very much disappeared among the upper
classes.
Now in this book, as well as in general history,
we find all these elements, Eastern and Western,
14*
322 APOLOGETICS.
meeting, mingling, seething, fermenting. We see,
too, a new chemical power thrown into this cal-
dron, meeting with opposition from all, but con-
tending with all, and in a sense conquering them
by making them take new forms and dispositions,
the result of which is the formation of a soil consti-
tuting modern society. For has not the modern
European and American world been produced by
these four or five causes : first, the Greeks giving
refinement; second, the Romans contributing gov-
ernment and order ; third, the Hebrew\s spreading
a pure religion ; with a popular element derived
from those energetic nations which emigrated from
Asia, bringing with them their superstitions, but also
their love of independence ; and finally Christianity
working in the midst of them, and seeking to subor-
dinate and sanctify them all, as yet with only partial
success, but with such a measure of success as to
insure a final triumph? We are here at the point,
or rather the time, where the Eastern and Western
worlds meet, where the ancient world has reached
its limit, and the modern world begins. It is surely
interesting, and may be instructive, to stand at such
a place, which we are enabled to do by the simple,
truth-like narrative of Luke, to discover all these
agencies at work, to see the old leaves fallen o'-
falling and putrefying, but dropping in the midst of
them a set of undying seeds to germinate into a
new and better life.
The instances of correspondence between the
Book of Acts and general history might be multi-
SPECIAL COINCIDENCES. 323
plied indefinitely. Thus, it is in Athens that Paul
is met by the Stoics and Epicureans, who strenu-
ously oppose him, as we might expect from the
self-righteous character of the one sect, and the
pleasure-loving character of the other. It is in
Corinth, known as a licentious, commercial city, that
impurity breaks forth in the church ; and it is in
writing to the Christians in that place, so famous
for its architecture, that he draws his imagery from
the art of building. It is among the Galatians, a
Celtic people with all the impulses of their race,
that we find so rapid a change in public sentiment,
so that, while at first the}^ would have plucked out
their own eyes for the good of the apostle (who
seems to have been troubled with a weakness of
sight), afterwards they turned away from the sim-
plicity of the gospel. The Roman magistrates are
represented now as shielding the apostle, and again
as subjecting him to penalties, according as they
believe that the cause of order will thereby be sus-
tained. The persons who handed down legends or
invented myths never troubled themselves to secure
such consistencies. But, besides these general cor-
respondences, there are minute coincidences of a
still more remarkable character. We can refer
only to two.
In his first missionary tour, Paul comes to the
town of Paphos, in the Isle of Cyprus. The title
given to the Governor by Luke agrees most thor-
oughly with what we learn from heathen authority.
The Romans sent two kinds of governors to th^iir
324
APOLOGETICS.
provinces. One set of provinces was under the
senate and people, and the governor of these was
appointed by lot : he carried with him the lictor and
fasces, and he is styled proconsul, in Greek avdvitdrog ;
he had no military power, and he had to resign at
the end of the year. Another set of provinces was
under tlie emperor, and the governor was called
propraetor or (briorrxat^yog, or legatus, nQeopevri-g : he
goes with the authority of the emperor, he has full
military power, and he remains during the pleasure
of the emperor. Now Luke mentions both these
kinds of officers, uses the names of both, and he
always applies them right ; that is, gives to a prov-
ince the very officer which we find that it had from
heathen authority. In our version, he is called sim-
ply a deputy ; in the original it is avdvndrog. Now
Dio Cassius informs us in one passage that the
emperor retained Cyprus as a province of his own,
in which case the title of the governor should not
have been proconsul, but propraetor. But the same
historian adds that Augustus restored Cyprus to the
senate, thus making the governor proconsul. This
is confirmed by a coin found in Curium, in Cyprus,
of the date a.d. 52, a few years after the visit of
Paul, containing an allusion to Claudius Csesar as
emperor, and representing the governor of the Isle
of Cyprus as a proconsul. So minutely accurate
is the statement of Luke as shown by these inci-
dental notices which learned research has brought
to light.
In his second missionary tour Paul comes to Phil-
SPECIAL COINCIDENCES. 325
ippi, "a city of Macedonia and a colony." Augus-
tus, the representative of the highest grandeur of
the Roman empire, had bestowed on this city the
privileges of a colonia. A Roman colony planted
in a city was a copy and a sort of representative of
Rome itself. The original members of it went out
from Rome, and were often veteran soldiers who
were thus rewarded for their services. They set-
tled in the city wath the pride and all the feelings
of Romans. I believe that in the course of years
others, not Italians, became amalgamated with them,
and sharers in their privileges. But the laws and
customs of Rome were there rigidly carried out :
they had in their city the Roman insignia, and in
the market-place the laws of the XII. Tables were
inscribed. The language of the men of office, and
indeed of the great body of the people, was Latin.
The colony was regulated by its own magistrates
named Duumviri, but delighting to call themselves
Pr^tors, in Greek orniai^yoi. They kept up a direct
dependence on Rome, and were not under the
governor of the province. The citizens had all the
privileges of Roman citizens, such as freedom from
arrest, and a right of appeal to the emperor. Such
was the city, partly Greek in its people, but event-
ually Roman in its government, in which Paul now
found himself. The treatment which Paul receives
in this city is altogether in accordance. He and
Silas were dragged into the dyoQar, or Forum, ar-
raigned before the city authorities, ao/ona^. The case
came officially before the onjar/jni^ the usual trans-
326 APOLOGETICS.
lation of the Roman preetors. The charge was
plausibly put : '' These men, being Jews, do exceed-
ingly trouble our city, and teach customs which are
not lawful for us to receive, neither to observe,
being Romans." It was the ancient law and custom
of the Romans to admit no foreign religion. The
praetors gave the Roman order: "Go, lictors, strip
off their garments : let them be scourged." The
horrid sentence being executed, they thrust them
into the inner prison. But in their passion and hurry
they had been guilty of an informality. Paul was
a Roman citizen, and they had condemned him
without a trial. Afraid of being punished them-
selves, they gave orders on the following morning
for the liberation of the prisoners.
(3) There are a great many undesigned coinci-
dences bctzveen the Book of Acts on the one hand,
and the E-pistlcs of Paul on the other. By observ-
ing these, we get a most satisfactory evidence of the
authenticity and truthfulness of both, and indeed
of the truth of Christianity. This is the point which
has been taken up by Paley, in the most original
of his works, the " Horse Paulinse." He puts the
supposition that the two, the fourteen letters and the
histor}^ were found for the first time in the Escurial,
or some other library, without any collateral evi-
dence in their favor ; and he shows that, from a
comparison of the two, we could reach the convic-
tion that the letters are authentic, the narrative in
the main true, and the persons and transactions real.
As a specimen, we ma}^ notice the correspondence
SPECIAL COINCIDENCES. 327
between Acts xvii. and xviii. on the one hand, and
the two Epistles to the Thessalonians on the other.
The history tells us that Paul, before coming to
Thessalonica, had been at Philippi, where he was
scourged and put in prison (Acts xvi.). In writ-
ing to the Thessalonians, Paul says (i Thess. ii. 2),
" After that we had suffered before, and were shame-
fully entreated, as ye know, at Philippi." The his-
tory tells us that when Paul came to Thessalonica
(Acts xvii. 5), "the Jews, which believed not, took
unto them certain lewd fellows of the baser sort, and
gathered a company, and set all the city in an up-
roar." Paul says (i Thess. ii. 2) : "We were bold
in our God to speak unto you the gospel of God
with much contention;" and (iii. 7) he speaks of
"our affliction and distress." The history says that
when Paul left Berea, he left behind him Silas and
Timotheus ; and that, when he came to Athens,
he sent back a message (Acts xvii. 15) that they
should " come to him with all speed ; " and that, as
he was waiting for them, his spirit was stirred
within him, when he saw the city given to the
worship of idols. Paul (i Thess. iii. i) speaks
aftectingly of his being left in Athens alone, without
his usual associates in labor, and with no one to
support him. The history implies that, on Paul
coming to Corinth, Silas and Timotheus were not
with him ; and that, seeking for congenial fellowship,
he joined himself to Aquila and Priscilla ; and lie
tells us that after a time Silas and Timotheus came
to him (Acts xviii. 5) : "And when Silas and Timo-
328 APOLOGETICS.
theus were come from Macedonia." Paul refers
(i Thess. iii. 5) to his being so anxious before
Timothy arrived to learn the state of the Thessalo-
nians : "For this cause, when I could no longer for-
bear, I sent to know your faith, lest by some means
the tempter have tempted you, and our labor be in
vain. But now, when Timotheus came from you
unto us, and brought us good tidings of your faith
and charity, and that ye have good remembrance of
us always, desiring greatly to see us, as we also to
see you." We find Timoth}- and Silvanus, who have
now arrived in Corinth, joining with Paul in writing
the Epistle (i Thess. i.). The history tells us that,
so far as Greece was concerned, Paul was most suc-
cessful in Macedonia and Achaia, and details the
cities in which his work was in these countries.
The letter-writer says (i Thess. i. 7, 8), "Ye were
ensamples to all that believe in Macedonia and
Achaia. For from you sounded out the word of
the Lord, not only in Macedonia and Achaia," &c.
But it may be urged that all this might have been
done by a forger : that the history might have been
written by one who had seen the Epistles, or the
Epistles by one who had seen the Book of Acts.
To this there is a twofold reply. One is, that the
coincidences come out incidentally, and not stu-
diously. A forger would have made the corre-
spondences prominent, certain to be seen by all ;
whereas, it is clear that neither the historian nor
letter-writer is seeking to establish his veracity ; and
we discover that the one fits into the other, only by
SPECIAL COINCIDENCES. 329
collating passages scattered in various places, which
passages are all natural in the places in which they
are found. Secondly, while we have samenesses,
we have also differences between the two, — differ-
ences on the surface, and which would never have
been allowed to remain by a forger. Thus Paul
tells us how he w^as sustained w^hen he was in
Thessalonica (i Thess. ii. 9), "For ye remember,
brethren, our labor and travail : for laboring night
and day, because we would not be chargeable unto
any of you." And in another Epistle (Phil. iv. 16)
he tells us that he got a gift from the Philippians,
which, no doubt, helped him in his first residence at
Thessalonica. "For even in Thessalonica ye sent
once and again unto my necessity." No mention
is made of this in the history ; and yet this is the
very thing which a forger would most likely have
fixed to show a forced correspondence. And even
at this point there is a general agreement, for
the historian tells us (Acts xviii. 3) that Paul did
thus labor with his hands at Corinth. And there is
a more important difference, amounting at first sight
to a discrepancy, but turning out in the end to be a
corroboration. Looking to the First Epistle to the
Thessalonians, it might seem as if Timothy had
joined Paul at Athens (i Thess. iii, i) : "Where-
fore, when we could no longer forbear, we thought
it good to be left at Athens alone ; and sent Timo-
theus, our brother, and minister of God, and our
fellow-laborer in the gospel of Christ, to establish
you, and to comfort 3'ou concerning your faith."
SS^ APOLOGETICS.
From this it seems pretty clear that, while Paul was
at Athens, Timothy had left Berea, and come to
him ; and that, anxious about the Thessalonians, he
had sent him back to Thessalonica, with a message
of comfort to the persecuted and distracted Chris-
tians there. It was after fulfilling this mission that
he and Silas joined Paul at Corinth. There is no
notice of this in the Book of Acts, which there would
certainly have been, if a forger had drawn the his-
tory out of the Epistles, with the view of exhibiting
an ostentatious consistency. Still the statement in
the Epistles does not contradict the history. For
the history makes Paul urgently press Timothy to
come to Athens ; and Paul, who does not seem to
have been driven from Athens, remains there till
Timothy arrives, and then sends him to Thessa-
lonica, with instructions, no doubt, to join him at
Corinth, and bring him a true account of the state
of the church at Thessalonica. The two accounts
are thus perfectly consistent ; but it is not a labored
consistency, but a congruity arising from both being
genuine and truthful. We might multiply such
cases, but it is unnecessary when they are found
in so accessible a book as the " Horag Paulinge."
Let us view Christianity in its place in the world.
The intelligent Hindoo may very reasonably put the
question, Has it accomplished what it professes, has
it fulfilled its mission? It may be allowed that
some of the early Christians expected Jesus and his
religion to make an easy conquest of the world.
CHRISTIANITY AT PRESENT. 33 1
But the actual history of the church is in entire
accordance with the picture presented b}^ our Lord
by his inspired apostles. Luke xii. 49 : "I am come
to send tire on the earth." — ''Suppose ye that I am
come to give peace on earth? I tell you, Nay ; but
rather division. From henceforth there shall be
five in one house divided, three against two, and two
against three." The same lesson is taught in several
of the most striking of our Lord's parables, Matt. xiii.
24-30 : " The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a
man which sowed good seed in his field : but while
men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among
the wheat, and went his way. But when the blade
was sprung up, and brought forth fruit, then appeared
the tares also." It is a picture of what is felt in the
heart of the Christian, it is a picture of what is found
in the professing church of God. When the Thessa-
lonians misinterpreted the language of Paul's First
Epistle, and concluded that Christ was to come in
triumph immediately, the apostle hastens to inform
them (2 Thess. ii. 3) "that day shall not come,
except there come a falling away first, and that
man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition." Peter
points to scoffers, who shall appear in the latter
days, advancing the very objection w^iich we find
urged in the present day, from the constancy of
nature (2 Pet. iii. 3-5): ''Since the fathers fell
asleep, all things continue as they w^ere from the
beginning of the creation." The last spared of the
apostles speaks of it as being well known that Anti-
christ was to come (i John ii. iS) : "And as ye have
332 APOLOGETICS.
heard that Antichrist shall come, even now there are
many Antichrists." And in the Book of Revelation
there is a prediction of an antichristian power which
shall have extensive sway for twelve hundred and
sixty days, a day for a year. Every Christian feels
how truly our Lord pictures the grace of God in the
heart, when he says (Matt. xiii. '^z^., "The kingdom
of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took,
and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole
was leavened." Neander shows, in his " History of
the Church," that this is also a picture of the church
at large. He thus opens his great work : '^'The his-
tor}^ wall show how a little leaven cast into the mass
of humanity has been gradually penetrating it.
Looking back on the period of eighteen centuries, we
would survey a process of development, in which we
ourselves are included, — a process moving steadily
onward, though not in a direct line, but through
various windings, yet in the end furthered by what-
ever has attempted to arrest its course ; a process
having its issue in eternity, but constantly following
the same laws, so that in the past, as it unfolds itself
to our view, we may see the germ of the future
which is coming to meet us." We are ever inclined
to say, "Why is he so long in coming? Why tarry
the wheels of his chariot?" We are made to see
that God is not slack concerning his purpose, but
at the same time that " with the Lord one day is as
a thousand years, and a thousand years as one
day." This is a motto which might be placed at
the head of every chapter of the history of the geo-
CHRISTIAN MISSIONS. 333
logical epochs : it is a truth which we must take
along with us, if we would comprehend the solemn
and steady march of prophecy. The whole of
palaeontology is a history of the struggle of life
upward from lower to higher forms, the weaker
dying out, and the stronger surviving, and prevail-
ing, and propagating its kind. The biography of
the individual Christian exhibits a like contest
between the mind and the members, with the mind
finally gaining the victory. The history of the
church in the world is in like manner a record of
a struggle between light and darkness, between love
and selfishness, between purity and pollution ; in
which, notwithstanding many reverses, the higher
principle is certain to reign in the end. Let us,
before closing, take a passing glance at the present
missionary work of the church.
For long ages did the Protestant Church decline,
like Jonah, the rebellious prophet, to engage in the
evangelistic work allotted to it. It is only some
seventy years since Protestants — it has to be said,
to their disgrace — awoke to the sense and duty
of missionary exertion. Some wonder that so little
fruit has been gathered, are astonished that the
whole world has not been already converted by
the efforts made ; but the proper wonder is that the
churches were so long insensible to their responsi-
bility, and that even yet so little has been done.
Of late years our religion has shown that it is as
vigorous and fresh for contest as when it first went
forth to subdue the world, and as much has been
334 APOLOGETICS.
accomplished as in the same period in the early
church. Seventy years after the death and resur-
rection of our Lord, and the outpouring of the
Spirit on the day of Pentecost, bring us to the
death of the Apostle John and the close of the first
century. In the early part of this Lecture we had
our attention called to what was done during that
period : let us now compare with it what has been
done in this century. At home an idea has been
created, and a public sentiment been generated and
propagated, and organizations have been formed
for effective operation. Every congregation has
felt the impulse to a greater or less extent, every
Sunday school has its missionary box, and contri-
butions come in regularly as the seasons ; and from
every part of our land young men and women
willingly offer themselves as missionaries or
teachers, and are ready to go to the forlorn hopes
of the warfare, to labor in the most remote islands,
and among the most degraded tribes ; while prayers
rise continually from millions of people and tens
of thousands of congregations, who give themselves
no rest, and give God no rest, till the promise is
fulfilled, and the knowledge of the Lord shall
cover the earth as the waters do the channel of the
deep. A footing and a settlement have been
gained in countries of which the apostles never
heard. Rude tongues, without form and void of all
elevated and elevating ideas, have been licked into
shape, and rendered capable of conveying spiritual
truth. A literature of a \\vA\ and wholesome
CHRISTIAN MISSIONS. 335
"character has been created in nations which pre-
viously had none. The Bible, in whole or in part,
has been translated into more than one hundred
and fifty languages ; millions of tracts, and hun-
dreds of thousands of books, have been distributed.
An extensive apparatus for work has been set up in
mission-houses, and boarding-houses, and schools,
and printing-presses, all radiating a healthy influ-
ence around them. We see streaks of light on the
mountain-tops in countries on which it cannot be
said that the sun has yet risen. The prejudices
of ignorance have been removed among many in
whom the prejudices of the heart have not given
wa\^ Superstitions are being undermined in lands
in which they have not yet fallen. In not a few
places the prepossessions or the fears of the people
are in favor of the missionai-ies and of the message
which they carry. When the children of Israel
entered the land, after forty years' sojourn in the
adjoining wilderness, there was a fear of them
everywhere, w'hich so far helped them in their con-
quest. When the aposdes w^ent forth to proclaim
the gospel, there was a feeling abroad among the
nations that the old superstitions were about to
vanish, and that a new and conquering faith was
to come out of these regions ; and this prepared
men for listening to their message. When the
Reformers made their attack on the Romish super-
stitions, there was an impression that the cor-
ruptions had become intolerable ; and this removed
obstacles out of the way as they advanced. And,
336 APOLOGETICS.
at this present lime, there is in various countries a
widely diffused presentiment that the gods cannot
help themselves, and that their reign is drawing
to a close.
And we can refer not only to this ploughing
and sowing, we can point to precious and sub-
stantial fruit gathered in. The gospel has shown
itself to be not dead or effete, as some would
wish it, but possessed of a living power, quite
as much as it had when it rose with Jesus from
the tomb, or when it went forth from the upper
chamber at Jerusalem to be baptized of the
Spirit. In a number of lands, cannibalism and
infanticide and human sacrifices have been sup-
pressed for ever. In India, suttee has been
abolished, the supporters of caste have been
troubled, and the rights of woman asserted, and
a beginning made in the way of elevating her.
Idols have been thrown down as Dagon was before
the Ark of the Covenant ; and they preserve as
trophies, in missionary museums, idols which no
man will now worship. The gods of the land, the
gods of the sea, the gods of the woods, the rain
gods and the storm gods and disease gods, have
been made to give way before the one living and
true God, who is now seen to rule so beneficently
over the sea and the dry land, and over all the
powers and agencies of nature. At hundreds of
mission stations there are Christians, many or few,
scattered like living seeds among the people, and
ready to propagate around them a wholesome in-
CHRISTIAN MISSIONS. 337
fluence. These converts may not be perfect, but
neither were those of the early church, — for ex-
ample, those at Corinth ; but they make a credible
profession, and in honesty and purity and kindness
and generosity set as good an example as the
members of our churches at home. In parts
o'f India and of Burmah there are communities
of Christians numbering tens of thousands. In
India there are at least one hundred thousand boys
taught in the vernacular schools, and many others
studying English in addition to their own tongue ;
while thirty thousand girls are receiving a Christian
education. The planting of Christianity in Mada-
gascar has thrilling incidents, not surpassed for
the display of courage or devotedness by any
recorded in the early church ; and there is a
reasonable prospect of the whole inhabitants
of that large island professing their faith in
Christianity. Mark what is reported of the South
Sea Islands : " Sixty-five 3^ears ago there was not a
solitary native Christian in Polynesia : now it would
be difficult to find a professed idolater in those
islands of Eastern or Central Polynesia where
Christian missionaries have been established. The
hideous rites of their forefathers have ceased to be
practised. Their heathen legends and war songs
are forgotten. Their cruel and desolating tribal
wars, which were rapidly destroying the popula-
tion, appear to be at an end. They are gathered
together in peaceful village communities. They
live under recognized codes of laws. They are
338 APOLOGETICS.
constructing roads, cultivating their fertile lands,
and engaging in commerce. On the return of the
Sabbath a very large proportion of the population
attend the worship of God, and in some instances
more than half the adult population are recognized
members of Christian Churches. They educate
their children, preparing them for usefulness in
after life,"
In summing up, let us inquire first what account
the plain, thoughtful man would give of this world,
after having passed through its experience. Per-
haps he will be disposed to say, with Robert Burns,
that " man was made to mourn ; " he will certainly
be ready to avow that the dark lines of sorrow run
through and through the web of life. Of the four
great verities held by Buddhism, which has had such
extensive sway, the first two and the fundamental
are that the world is full of dissatisfaction and sor-
row, and that this arises from sin. Our earth is
not what any of us would wish it to be, is not what
good men would expect it to be. It is not a scene
of confusion, for law is everywhere visible. It is
not the product of chance, nor of an unknown
power, which may be good, or which may be evil ;
for we see traces everywhere of wise and benefi-
cent intention. But, on the other hand, it is not such
a place as we believe heaven to be. It is a state
out of which men may be taken to heaven, but it is
not in itself a scene of unbroken beatitude and
unstained purity.
WHAT SCIENCE SA2'6. 339
Let us now ask of science, of history, and travel,
what they make of it. Thfey tell us that they dis-
cover in all past ages, and in all countries, traces
of a contest. When we look up to the heavenly
bodies moving so orderly, shining so beneficently,
it might seem as if our world were basking in the
light of God, as if it were a scene of beauty and
purity like the star-lit sky when not a cloud is resting
on it. But when we penetrate deeper, we discover
that our Cosmos has been formed in ages past out of
warring elements ; and we seem to see at this pres-
ent time broken-up w^orlds, the debris of dread cat-
astrophes. There is evidence that suffering and
death have been in our earth since sentient life
appeared, and reigning over those "who had not
sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgres-
sion." The struggle in the pre-Adamite ages is
an anticipation, perhaps a prefiguration, of the
more terrible struggle in the post-Adamite period.
In the time now present, history and travel dis-
close ignorance and misery spread over the earth,
with destructive wars breaking forth ever and anon
even in the most enlightened nations. And if 3'ou
ask science what it can do to remove the evils,
it tells you that there are powerful elements for
good in our world, in law, and progressive knowl-
edge and life, and that new and higher agencies
have been introduced to contend with and conquer
the baser powers ; but, if candid, it will add that,
while it may so far restrain, it cannot subdue the
disease which lies deep down in the depths of tlie
human heart.
340 APOLOGETICS.
Let us come now to Scripture, and ask what it has
to say. It announces that, as the works came suc-
cessively from God's hand, he could proclaim them
to be all very good. But it declares at the same
time that a disturbing element has been introduced.
And have not sincere men felt that in all this Scrip-
ture speaks truly, and that a false and flattering
picture has been given by rationalism and sentimen-
talism? In the midst of the struggle, Christianity,
under the ministration of the Spirit, appears as the
latest power introduced into our world ; and we see it
repelling the evil, and gathering round it all the
better elements — as the magnet attracts the metals.
When it is received, it stimulates the faculties, and
calls forth new ideas, new motives, and new senti-
ments. It has been the mother of all modern educa-
tion. John Knox was the first to introduce the
universal education of the people in the eastern
hemisphere, and the Puritans established it in the
western world. The founders of all the older col-
leges in Europe and America were men of piety.
Our religion has fostered all that is pure and enno-
bling in the fine arts, in architecture, painting, and
sculpture, and has frowned upon the debasing forms
which appeared in pagan countries. But, in fulfill-
ing its mission, it meets with opposition, and has to
engage in a terrible conflict with the powers of evil.
We see the battle raging all around us in this city
and in every city, in every dwelling and in every
heart. Christianity thus appears in our world in
analogy and in accordance with all that has gone
WHAT THE BIBLE SATS. 34 1
before — a new power to contend with the evil, and
overcome it. The history of our world is thus a
unity from the commencement to the present time.
The representation given in the Bible is of a piece
with the view given by the latest researches of sci-
ence and of history.
1
APPENDIX.
Art. I. Gaps in the Theory of Development.
There is a floating idea among many, and often embodied in a
very dogmatic assertion, that, given only bare matter, every thing
may be formed out of it by a process of development accord-
ino- to natural law. It may be of importance to show what are
the unfilled-up hiatuses in this process. In doing so, I feel that
I must bear in mind myself, and ask my opponents to do the
same, that it is not easy, or rather it is impossible, for us to
determine what are the properties to be found in all matter. It
may be assumed that it has mechanical power, the power of
motion in accordance with the three laws of Kepler. Has it
also essentially a gravitating power inversely according to the
square of the distance ? This is a point which cannot be settled,
for it is not yet determined whether gravitation is a simple power
or the result of other powers and collocations. Has it in its
very nature the chemical properties ? This also is undecided ;
for we know not whether chemical affinities are original or
derivative, — say, derived from other powers and dispositions of
matter. As little can it be determined whether the powers of
electricity, magnetism, and galvanism, or of emitting light and
heat, belong essentially to all matter. The doubts and uncer-
tainties on these points should lay an arrest on those who would
dogmatize on the subject of development out of matter. Mean-
while it is certain that, at the present stage of science, there are
processes which no man of science can perform, and which we
do not see performed in the laboratory of nature, either in the
geoloEjical or historical ages.
344
APPENDIX.
1. Chemical action cannot be produced by mechanical power.
2. Life, even in the lowest forms, cannot be produced from
unorganized matter. Since Lecture I. {supra, pp. 27, 28) was de-
livered, Dr. Frank-land has published the results of experiments
on solutions sealed up in vacuous tubes and exposed to a tem-
perature from 155° to 160° C, great care being taken to exclude
organic seeds from the tubes. The liquid in the tubes became
more or less turbid ; but " there was not the slightest evidence
of life in any of the particles." See " Nature," Jan. 19, 1871.
3. Protoplasm can be produced only by living matter.
4. Organized matter is made up of cells, and can be produced
only by cells. Whence the first cell ?
5. A living being can be produced only from a seed or germ.
Whence the first vegetable seed ?
6. An animal cannot be produced from a plant. Whence the
first animal ?
7. Sensation cannot be produced in insentient matter.
8. The genesis of a new species of plant or animal has never
come under the cognizance of man, either in pre-human or post-
human ages, either in pre-scientific or scientific time. Darwin
acknowledges this, and says that, should a new species suddenly
arise, we have no means of knowing that it is such. (As to the
Darwinian Theory, see Lect. II. and infra, Art. II.)
9. Consciousness — that is, a knowledge of self and its opera-
tions— cannot be produced out of mere matter or sensation.
ID. We have no knowledge of man being generated out of
the lower animals. (See infra. Art. II.)
II. All human beings, even savages {supra, pp. 48, 138 ; ittfra.
Art. II.), are capable of forming certain high ideas, such as
those of God and duty. The brute creatures cannot be made
to entertain these, by any training.
With such tremendous gaps in the process, the theory which
would derive all things out of matter by development is seen to
be a very precarious one. I may add that development is in all
cases a very complex process, implying a vast variety of agen-
cies, — mechanical, chemical, probably vital, — adjusted to one
another and the surrounding medium. The evolution-school
ridicule those who would explain the operations of water by
1
GArS IN DEVELOPMENT THE OR 7'. 345
"aquosity," comparing it to Martinus Scriblerus' method of ac-
counting for the operation, of the meat-jack by its inherent
"meat-roasting quality." But this is the very error into which
they themselves fall when they account for development by the
"development capacity." The present business of physiolo-
gists is not to rest satisfied w^ith the power of development, or
the law of hereditary descent, but to seek to determine what
are the separate powers and collocations involved in the process.
In such investigations they need to attend, as Bacon recom-
mended, to the "necessary rejections and exclusions," or, as
Whewell expresses it, " to the decomposition of facts."
Some, I find, are now calling in a power of Pangenesis com-
mon to all matter. I do not deny, a priori, the existence of
such a power: some very profound minds, penetrated with
religion, such as Leibnitz, have been inchned to believe in it.
I am ready to accept it as soon as it can be scientifically shown
to exist, and something has been determined as to its nature.
Of this I am pretty sure, that, if there be such an endowment,
it must be a very complicated one, implying a correlation of
properties.
I am inclined to believe that all the phenomena referred to
in this article — such as development, production of life —
have appeared according to law, in the loose sense of the term ;
that is, according to an order of some kind. I hold this in
analogy with the whole method of Divine procedure in nature.
It is very probable that, in many of the operations, there may
have been secondary agencies acting as physical causes. But
these secondary agencies are, at the present stage of science,
unknown : even the agencies which produce development and
heredity are very much unknown. In arguing, in these Lectures,
for prevailing final cause, my appeal is not to the unknown, but
the known, the traces of adaptation in every part of nature ; and
I cannot allow those who oppose me to appeal to the unknown,
when the known is all in my favor. Science may be able to
fill up some of the gaps ; but when it has done so, I am sure,
according to the whole analogy of nature, that, in the process,
we will be able to discover final cause, or an adaptation of means
to accomplish an end.
15*
346 APPENDIX.
Art. II. Darwin's Descent of Man.
When Mr. Darwin published his "Origin of Species," he at
once gained as adherents to his theory a large number of young
naturalists. His extensive and accurate acquaintance with all
departments of Natural History, the pains taken by him in the
collection of facts, and the simple and ingenious way in which
he stated them, prepared men to listen to him ; and, as they did
so, they found he was able by Natural Selection to account for a
number of phenomena which could not otherwise be explained.
But of late there has ajapeared a disposition, even among those
who were at first taken with the theory, carefully to review it.
All candid minds admit that it explains much, that it explains
modifications which plants and animals undergo from age to
age ; but many doubt whether it accounts for every thing,
whether indeed there is not a profounder set of facts which it
does not reach.
Mr. Darwin is candid enough to admit that he cannot account
for every thing connected with the appearance of vegetable and
animal life. In his fifth edition (1869), he speaks "of life, with
its several powers, having been originally breathed by the Cre-
ator into a few forms or into one." We have seen (supra., p. 80)
that he allows : " How a nerve comes to be sensitive to light
hardly concerns us more than how life itself first originated."
But if Natural Selection cannot explain the origin of hfe, the
origin of nerve-force or sensation, it is clear that there is a
power above and beyond it, which operated when life appeared,
and when sensation appeared, and which may have operated on
other occasions in producing higher and ever higher forms of
living beings.
It has been known, since at least the time of Aristotle, that
there is a striking analogy between man and the lower animals,
between all the tril^es of animals, and between animals and
plants ; and Mr. Darwin has, by an accumulation of facts, first
in the " Origin of Si^ecies," and now in the " Descent of Man,"
illustrated this point more fully than was ever done before. But
it does not therefore follow that the animal is evolved from the
DARWIN'S DESCENT OF MAN. 347
plant, and man from the lower animals. The paintings of Titian
have all a certain character, which shows that they are the prod-
ucts of the same great artist. So the correspondences in nat-
ure, inanimate and animate, show that the whole proceeds from
one grand Designing Mind. We know how the great painter
accomplished his aim, by brush and colors and canvas. We
see some of the means by which God effects his infinitely grander
ends. We see that one of these is the beneficent law of Natural
Selection, whereby the weak, after enjoying their brief existence,
expire without leaving seed, whereas the strong survive and
leave a strong progeny. But the latest science cannot tell how
Life arises, or Sensation, or Consciousness, or InteUigence, or
Moral Discernment. Even with Mr, Darwin's accumulation of
facts bearing on the modification of species, we are made to feel
that there are residual phenomena left, which his theory does
not explain, and which he does not profess or affect to explain, —
in the appearance, for example, of the first plant or the first sen-
tient creature. In the edition of the " Origin of Species "
issued in 1869, though he still stands up for Natural Selection
as the most important means of producing modification, he
allows that it is not the only one. And in his " Animals and
Plants under Domestication " (vol. ii. p. 403), he calls in a new
theory, that of Pangenesis, according to which every living creat-
ure possesses innumerable minute atoms named " gemmules,"
which are generated in every part of the body, are constantly
moving, and have the power of reproduction, and in particular
are collected in the generative organs, coming thither from every
part of the body. " These almost infinitely numerous and minute
gemmules must be included in each bud, ovule, spermatozoon,
and pollen grain" (p. 366). It has been generally felt, even by
those inclined to follow Mr. Darwin, that tliis hypothesis is
exceedingly vague and confused and comphcated. It has cer-
tainly no direct evidence in its favor, as these gemmules have
never come under the eye of science. The circumstance that
Mr. Darwin has been obliged to resort to such hypothesis is a
proof that he feels that there is a residuum which his favorite
principle of Natural Selection cannot reach.
Whence, then, this element, which we ever come to wlien we
348 APPENDIX.
go far enough back, when we dig sufficiently far down ? The
older naturalists called it the "vital principle," not thereby
meaning to explain it, but to show merely that they had come to
an ultimate fact, for which they had to provide a name. Our
younger naturalists do not know well what to make of it. Some
of the more superficial of them would deny its existence, and
explain all by molecular motion. But the profounder investiga-
tors feel that they are ever coming to it, and call it by the name
of Pangenesis, or (with Herbert Spencer) "physiological units,"
each with an innate power to build up and reproduce the orc^an-
ism. I do believe that this vital power, whatever it be, has its
laws ; and science is engaged in its proper work when it is seek-
ing to discover them, and may sooner or later be rewarded with
success. And of this we may be assured, that when the dis-
covery is made the wonder of intelligent minds will not be
diminished.
Whence this element is still the question 1 It is at least pos-
sible and conceivable that it may have been introduced by an
immediate fiat of the Great First Cause, continuing to act as a
cause, and producing, as the aeons roll on, new germs ready to
rise to living beings, or living beings ready to bring forth germs ;
and we may be sure that what God thus places in our world will
fit into all that has gone before, and become intertwined with it,
and act in unison with it. But it is quite as possible that all
this may be effected by some secondary agency, at present un-
known, and which may or may not become known. The whole
analogy of the Divine procedure, and the beautiful correspond-
ence between the old and the new, seem to point to some com-
mon causation producing the first life and all succeeding life.
This agency, which like development is only a mode of the
Divine agency, may have produced the first life, the first species,
every subsequent species, all according to a Divine plan. It is
not the development theory : it goes farther back, and shows
that behind the development there is a power which produced
the life developed, and is involved in the development, — the
powers working in which, naturalists do not profess to be able
to explain.
The development theory is largely an appeal to the unknown.
I
nA/mJ.V'S DESCENT OF MAN. 349
No one supposes that evolution is an evolution from nothing.
\\. is a law of intuitive intelligence, confirmed by all experience,
that every production has a cause, and that there must be power
in the agents acting as the cause to produce the effect. That
which is evolved always implies a potency in that in which it is
involved. A plant or animal with the power of development is
always a product of previous causes, and is a cause of coming
effects. But no one professes to be able to specify what are the
powers involved in development. These powers, if we could
discover and separate them, might be found, at least one or more
of them, to be intimately connected with, and indeed to proceed
from, the power, whatever it is, which originates life, — to be a
prolongation in fact of that life ; the prolongation being implied
in the evolution, so that, if there were not a continuance and a
transmission of it, there would be no development. There is
certainly an element somewhere which gives constant notice of
its existence, but has hitherto afforded little insight into its
nature, or the laws which it obeys.
It is doubted whether the law of Natural Selection, as unfolded
by Darwin, can explain the modifications of plants and animals.
Mr. St. George Mivart, in his work on the "Genesis of Species,"
has endeavored to show : (i) that Natural Selection is incom-
petent to account for the incipient stages of useful structures ;
(2) that it does not harmonize with the co-existence of closely
similar structures of diverse origin ; (3) that there are grounds
for thinking that specific differences may be developed suddenly
instead of gradually ; (4) that the opinion that species have
definite though very different limits to their variabihty is still
tenable ; (5) that certain fossil transitional forms are absent,
which might have been expected to be present ; (6) that some
facts of geographical distribution supplement other difficulties ;
(7) that the objection drawn from the physiological difference
between species and races still exists unrefuted ; (8) that there
are many remarkable phenomena in organic forms upon which
Natural Selection throws no light whatever, but the explanations
of which, if they could be obtained, might throw light upon
specific origination. I am far from saying that some of these
formidable objections, supported as they are by an array of facts
350 APPENDIX.
by an accomplished naturalist, may not be answered. But this
is certain, that for years, perhaps for ages to come, it will be an
unsettled question whether Natural Selection can account for
all the ordinary phenomena of the modification of organisms.
In his latest work Mr. Darwin has employed his theory to
account for the origin of man. In order to be able to judge of
the success of the attempt, it may be proper to state briefly
the conclusions which he reaches. Man is descended from the
Simiadee : " This family is divided, by almost all naturahsts, into
the Catarhine, or Old World monkeys, all of which are charac-
terized (as their name expresses) by the pecuHar structure of
their nostrils, and by having four premolars in each jaw ; and
into Platyrhine group, or New World monkeys (including two
very distinct sub-groups), all of which are characterized by dif-
ferently constructed nostrils, and by having six premolars in each
jaw. Some other small diiferences might be mentioned. Now
man unquestionably belongs in his dentition, in the structure of
his nostrils, and some other respects, to the Catarhine, or Old
World division ; nor does he resemble the Platyrhines more
closely than the Catarhines in any characters, excepting in a few
of not much importance, and apparently of an adaptive charac-
ter. Therefore it would be against all probability to suppose
that some ancient New World species had varied, and had thus
produced a man-like creature, with all the distinctive characters
proper to the Old World division, losing at the same time all its
own distinctive characters. There can consequently hardly be
a doubt that man is an off-shoot from the Old World Simian
stem ; and that, under a genealogical point of view, he must be
classed with the Catarhine division " (Descent of Man, Part I.
c. vi., British edition, 1871). As man agrees with anthropomor-
phous apes, " not only in those characters which he possesses
in common with the whole Catarhine group, but in other peculiar
cliaracters, such as the absence of a tail, and of callosities, and
in general appearance, we may infer that some ancient member
of the anthropomorphous sub-group gave birth to man." "It
is probable that Africa was formerly inhabited by extinct apes
closely allied to the gorilla and chimpanzee ; and as these two
species are now man's nearest allies, it is somewhat more prob-
DARWIN'S DESCENT OF MAN. 35 1
able that our early progenitors lived on the African continent
than elsewhere." " We do not know whether man is descended
from some comparatively small species like the chimpanzee, or
from one as powerful as the gorilla." He can tell us that " the
ape-like progenitors of man probably lived in society ; " that
" the early progenitors of man were no doubt inferior in intel-
lect, and probably in social disposition, to the lowest existing
savages ; " that " the early progenitors of man were no
doubt once covered with hair, both sexes having beards ; " that
" their ears were pointed and capable of movement ; " and that
" their bodies were provided with a tail, having the proper
muscles."
Mr. Darwin can carry our genealogy still farther back : " Man
is descended from a hairy quadruped, furnished with a tail and
pointed ears, probably arboreal in its habits, and an inhabitant
of the Old World. This creature, if its whole structure had
been examined by a naturalist, would have been classed amongst
the Ouadrumana, as surely as would the common, and still more
ancient, progenitor of the Old and New World monkeys. The
Ouadrumana and all the higher mammals are probably derived
from an ancient marsupial animal ; and this, through a long line
of diversified forms, either from some reptile-like or some
amphibian-like creature, and this again from some fish-like
animal. In the dim obscurity of the past we can see that the
early progenitor of all the vertebrata must have been an aquatic
animal, provided with branchiae, with the two sexes united in the
same individual, and with the most important organs of the body
(such as the brain and heart) imperfectly developed. This
animal seems to have been more like the larva; of our existing
marine Ascidians than any other form known. " (Part II. c. xxi.)
I have allowed Mr. Darwin to draw the picture. I confess I
shrink from it. I am inclined to urge that the very circumstance
that man has a consciousness of a something within, which
separates him from the brutes, that he claims to have a higher
origin, is a consideration of some value in determining the
question. Man's very feeling is a presumption in favor of his
having a noble lineage. But it will be necessary to e.xamine the
logical connections of the theory.
352
APPENDIX.
Mr. Darwin's theory as to man's origin leans very much on
his general theory as to the origin of species. Those who doubt
of the success of his attempt to explain the origin of animal spe-
cies will have greater doubts of his being able to account for the
origin of man. There are persons favorably disposed towards
the theory, as applied to the lower animals, who are not pre-
pared to allow that it can explain the production of a being with
a responsible and immortal soul. It is acknowledged on all
hands that Natural Selection cannot account for the origin of
life ; and the power beyond, which produced life, may have found
a fitting and worthy occasion for a farther operation in producing
man. The difficulty which there is in applying it to man's intel-
lectual and moral nature is making some doubt of the whole
theory, as capable of explaining all the phenomena even of
vegetable and animal modifications.
Again, there are acknowledged to be wide gaps in the trans-
mission, to be many breaks in the genealogy. Thus Mr. Darwin
acknowledges that he cannot account for the appearance of the
mental powers in animals. " In what manner the mental powers
were first developed in the lowest organisms is as hopeless an
inquiry as how life first originated. These are problems for the
distant future, if they are ever to be solved by man." (Part I.
c. ii.) Some of us wish that he had used the same guarded
language as to the origin of man's mental powers as he has
used in regard to that of the lower organisms. It is clear that
Natural Selection cannot explain every thing, and the production
of man may be one of the things which are beyond its reach.
We are ever coming in sight of a higher power ; we need it to
produce life, we need it to produce the instincts of animals, and
a fortiori we need it to account for the rational and moral en-
dowments. All analogy constrains me to cling to the idea that
the same power of God, whether acting directly or by secondary
agency, which produced life at first and endowed the lower
creatures with psychical properties, has also been employed in
creating man and furnishing him with his lofty attributes.
He acknowledges that there are breaks, which he cannot fill
up, "between man and the higher apes " (vol. i. p. 187) ; and he
speaks more expressly (p. 200) of " the great break in the organic
DARWIN'S DESCENT OF MAN. 353
chain between man and his nearest allies, which cannot be bridged
over by any extinct or living species." This means that the ani-
mal, which could have given birth to man, has not been found
in the geological ages, and has not been seen in historical times,
and is not now — so far as is known — on the face of the earth,
This is surely a great want in a science which professes to be
built on facts. In the lack of facts, he falls back on "the gen-
eral principle of evolution " (p. 200). I admit the existence of
evolution ; but I oppose the theory that would account for every
production by evolution, and, in the absence of facts, I cannot
allow him to appeal to a principle which, in its exclusiveness,
cannot be estabhshed without the facts. But he tells us that " we
have every reason to believe that breaks in the series are simply
the results of so many forms having become extinct" (p. 187).
But surely it would only be becoming to be less sure and dog-
matic, till these forms cast up, or till we can find a monkey on
the earth capable by domestication, or otherwise, of producing
a man.
Farther, if we have evidence otherwise of man coming into
existence by a special act of God, there is not sufficient scientific
strength in the Darwinian theory to overturn it. Now many
beheve that the Scriptures, while they say little or nothing as to
the origin of animal species, settle the question of man's origin.
We have seen {supra. Lecture II.) that the book of Genesis has
anticipated geology by three thousand years, in telling of the
successive stages of the production of matter and animated
beings ; and it may well be attended to in speaking of the origin
of man. Mr. Darwin is obliged to speak of it as being probable
that God at first breathed life into two or three forms : there is
surely, then, nothing inconceivable or improbable in the Almighty
breathing into man the breath of hfe and making him a living
soul. These Scriptures are supported by a body of 3vidence,
external and internal, which those who have weighed it believe
to be far stronger tlian the proof that can be adduced in favor
of the hypothesis of man being produced by Natural Selection.
Those who have looked most carefully into their own nature will
be ready to acknowledge that the Scripture account, which repre-
sents man as formed out of the dust, but with a soul formed in
354
APPENDIX.
the image of God, is far more accordant with our experience
than that which would derive both body and soul from the lower
animals. To oppose this, we have only a hypothesis which ex-
plains a number of facts, but is acknowledged not to explain all
the facts, and to fail to explain the facts relating to the appear-
ance of new powers. Every reader of Mr. Darwin's latest book
has observed how often he is obliged in his candor to use the
epithet "probably," and to say, "it is probable." It is ac-
knowledged that there is no decisive fact to support the theory,
nothing of the nature of an experimentum crucis. In these cir-
cumstances, most men will prefer abiding by the simple Script-
ure statement, rather than commit themselves to a theory which
has so many breaks that cannot be filled up.
The impression left, on reading the account of the creation of
man in the book of Genesis, is that while man's higher nature,
his vovq, which contemplates eternal truth and the infinite God,
was produced at once by the breath of the Great Spirit, his
lower nature, and especially his body, may have been formed
out of existing materials, it may be by secondary causes. And
there is nothing unreasonable in the supposition that these sec-
ondary agencies may be the same as effect the growth of the
young in the womb. " I will praise thee ; for I am fearfully and
wonderfully made : marvellous are thy works ; and that my soul
knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when
I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts
of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being un-
perfect ; and in thy book all my members were written, which
in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of
them" (Ps. cxxxix. 14-16). The whole school are fond of
appealing to the grand generahzation of Von Baer, that the
growth of the animal in the womb, that the various stages which
it reaches, correspond very much to the progress of the animal
races in the geological ages. But I have not been able to dis-
cover that they have succeeded in detecting the precise agen-
cies which produce each of the effects, and the correspondences
between them. There is a mystery here which they have not
cleared up, indeed have not attempted to clear up. The analogy
seems to me to point to a set of powers above both the processes,
DARWIN'S DESCENT OF MAN. 355
and regulating both. And may there not have been a third
process analogous to the other two, — the process by which
man's body was created, diverse from the animal body and yet
in affinity with it ? There may be an agency or set of agencies
above natural selection, above even hceditary transmission —
which may, in fact, be ruled by it — producing, first, each species
of animal, and the progressive advance of animals ; secondly,
the growth of animals in the womb ; and finally, the animal
part of man. In some such way as this, by the work "made in
secret," and " curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the
earth," may we get a glimpse of the general causes which pro-
duced the organs in living beings, and in certain living beings
the rudiments of organs, — such as the mammas in the male sex,
— which have not been developed into utilized organs.
But, coming more closely to Mr. Darwin's arguments, we find
them to amount to two : one derived from the resemblances be-
tween man and the lower animals, and the other from Sexual
Selection.
There is a resemblance in the bodily structure of man and the
lower animated creation. Mr. Huxley comes to the conclusion
that " man in all parts of his organization differs less from the
higher apes than these do from the lower members of the same
group." Mr. Darwin declares that, " although man has no just
right to form a separate Order for his own reception, he may
perhaps claim a distinct Sub-order, or Family "(Part I. c. vi.).
The place which man's body — represented in Scripture as
formed out of the dust — should hold, is a question for compara-
tive anatomists to settle. If it is determined that man's bodily
frame is of a higher order than that of the highest animal, then
they will have to account for the superiority. If they prove that
it should be placed alongside that of the apes, then they will
have to account for his great intellectual pre-eminence, which
cannot arise in this case from the body, but must come from
some other quarter.
Coming to the soul of man and brute, we find Mr. Darwin on
one occasion, when hard pressed with a difficulty, bursting out
into the declaration, " We really know little about the mind of
the lower animals" (Part II. c. xxi.). We are reminded of the
356 APPENDIX.
famous saying of the Swiss philosopher, that we will never
be able to know what brute instinct is till we are in the dog's
head without being the dog. Mr. Darwin candidly acknowledges
that he cannot trace the mental faculties from the lower creatures
up to man. " Undoubtedly it would have been very interesting
to have traced the development of each separate faculty from the
state in which it exists in the lower animals to that in which it
exists in man ; but neither my ability nor knowledge permit the
attempt" (Part I. c. v.). Till the attempt is made, and success-
fully completed, we have no right to assert that man's higher
powers are developed out of animal powers ; nor, as Mr. Dar-
win maintains, that " the mental faculties of man and the lower
animals do not differ in kind, though immensely in degree."
I agree with Mr. Darwin in thinking that we cannot very well
distinguish between what is vaguely called " Instinct," and what
with equal vagueness is called " Reason." The fact is, Instinct
is merely a loose but convenient name for a set of operations, the
nature of which is confessedly very much unknown ; and Reason
has been used to denote so many different intellectual exercises,
that we cannot very well determine what we should understand
by it. One thing, however, seems very clear to me : that Instinct
is a complex operation, always implying a number of agencies
and a concurrence of agencies, and that each of them has its
laws or properties, which we will never be able to discover till
we can separate the threads that make up the web. It may be
farther allowed that Instinct has always more or less of intelli-
gence in it ; that is, intelligence is involved as one of the agencies.
But it has to be added that intelligence, or Reason, has always
more or less of Instinct involved ; that is, it knows, beheves, and
judges, without having or being able to give a mediate reason.
Mr. Darwin has successfully shown that there is a resem-
blance between the intelligence and instincts of man on the
one hand, and those of the lower animals on the other. But
in man those operations which we call Instinct become fewer,
and occupy a less important position, while inteUigence takes a
higher place ; and human intelligence is found to have an ele-
ment not exercised by the ant, the horse, the dog, the elephant,
the ape, or the most advanced of the brute creation.
DARWIN'S DESCENT OF MAN. 357
I am convinced that in many cases the intellectual powers of
man and the lower animals are not identical, but simply analo-
gous ; that is, they serve the same end, but do not follow the same
laws, or rather do not proceed from precisely the same agencies
or properties. What I mean will be understood when I refer to
the circumstance, familiar to every naturalist, that the wings of
a butterfly and the wings of a bird are represented not as the same
organs, but as analogous to each other ; that is, both serve the
same purposes of flight, but have not the same structure. In like
manner there is reason to believe that the same ends are accom-
plished in man and brute by different mental faculties ; or rather
there is a discerning or rational power in the operation as per-
formed by man, which is not in the act as performed by the inferior
creatures. A rat is not apt to be caught a second time in the same
trap. The horse in the carriage is ready to start when the door
is audibly closed; and Mr. Darwin refers to a case in which it
did so when no whipping would make it start. This may seem
reasoning, but 't is not : it arises merely from the association of
ideas, a very inferior intellectual operation to reasoning. I
have remarked elsewhere (Laws of Discursive Thought, iii. §
IJ), " It is ever to be understood that the train of ideas raised
by association, while it aids reasoning, and is the means of
enabling us to carry on reasoning so rapidly, is not in itself
reasoning. Logicians have shown that, in all proper reasoning,
the mind has before it three terms, and perceives the relations
between them. I believe that much of what is called reasoning
in brutes, and even among children, proceeds from mere associa-
tion. When the burnt child, and, we may add, the burnt dog,
dreads the fire, it is from the mere law of co-existence. All their
lives men are more or less under the influence of mere associa-
tion, when we imagine them to be reasoning. They are led not
by a concatenated train of discovered relations, but by mere im-
pulse, as is said ; that is, by the suggestion which comes up.
Hence the mistakes into which they are ever falling, — mistakes
not to be referred to the reasoning power. In all judgment, and
in reasoning as implying judgment, there is a perception of the
relations of the notions to each other ; and it is only thus we
can reach a sound and safe conclusion." This is an example of
3S8 APPENDIX.
what I believe to be very common, — of a higher mental power
being involved in an operation performed by man, which, to the
superficial observer, may seem the same as an unreasoning act
performed by one of the lower animals.
I have doubts whether the lower animals can abstract, whether
they can generalize. That they can perceive resemblances and
differences, and remember them, and that they associate things
by these, I have no doubt ; but that they can form general
notions, and abstract notions, such as men entertain, — such as
all men, even savages, are capable of entertaining, — there is no
reason to believe. For what is involved in a general notion, —
say in the general notion, man ? Not merely that all the beings
put into the class resemble each other, but that the beings pos-
sess common properties, and that the notion must embrace all
the objects possessing the common properties. In an abstract
notion it is involved not merely that we image a part after
having perceived a whole, but that we regard the part as a
part ; that we regard rationality as an attribute of man. Such
general and abstract notions are intellectual exercises of a high
order, and there is no reason to believe that the lower animals
are capable of them. Abstraction as every one knows, is in-
volved in arithmetic. Men low in the scale of intelligence can
proceed only a very little way in the employment of numbers.
Still, with the use of their digits, they can rise to the number five
or ten. But there is no reason to believe that the lower animals
can make any enumeration. They miss a person usually asso-
ciated with others now before them ; but there is no proof that
they can perform, or be taught to perform, as even savages
can, sucli simple operations as addition and subtraction. The
school that I am opposing are accustomed to ascribe man's
superiority very much to the power of speech. But many of
the lower animals have the power of uttering articulate sounds.
" Parrots," says Locke, " will be taught to make articulate
sounds enough, which yet are by no means capable of language.
Besides articulate sounds, therefore, it was further necessary
that man should be able to use these sounds as signs of internal
conceptions, and to make them stand as marks of the ideas
within his mind." This is the defect of the lower animals,
nAR]\'IN'S DESCENT OF MAN. 359
lying not in their vocal organs, but in the mental incapacity to
form the " internal conceptions " implied in the intelligent use
of speech.
Of this I am sure, that the lower animals cannot form those
lofty ideas which constitute the peculiarities, the characteristics,
of man : the ideas of necessary truth, of moral good and in-
finity, culminating in the idea of God. I allow that the ideas of
this high kind entertained by savages are of a very vague and
meagre character. But they are there (see Lecture V.) in their
rudiments, and capable of being brought forth and cultivated,
and made to go down by the laws of hereditary descent. Here,
then, we have an essential distinction between man and the
lower animals. There are ideas which all men, and no brutes,
are capable of forming.
It has often been remarked that the lower animals, dogs and
horses, act as if they had a conscience. But this arises simply
from their having the accompaniments of conscience, the feelings
which are associated with conscientious convictions in man.
Much of what seems conscience originates in the mere associ-
ated hope of reward and fear of penalty. There is no ground
for beheving that any of the lower animals have a sense of good
as good, and of binding obligation, or a sense of evil as evil, and
as deserving of disapproval.
Mr. Darwin's theory of the origin of our moral ideas is one
of the loosest and most unsatisfactory, — altogether one of the
weakest ever propounded. It is clear that he is not at home in
philosophical and ethical subjects, as he is in questions of nat-
ural history. The following is his summary of his ethical
theory : " A moral being is one who is capable of comparing
his past and future actions and motives, — of approving of some
and disapproving of others ; and the fact that man is the one
being, who, with certainty, can be thus designated, makes the
greatest of all chstinctions between him and the lower animals.
But in our third chapter I have endeavored to show that the
moral sense follows, firstly, from the enduring and always pres-
ent nature of the social instincts, in which respect man agrees
with the lower animals ; and, secondly, from his mental fac-
ulties being highly active, and his impressions of past events
360 APPENDIX.
extremely vivid, in which respects he differs from the lower
animals. Owing to this condition of mind, man cannot avoid
looking backwards and comparing the impressions of past events
and actions. He also continually looks forward. Hence, after
some temporary desire or passion has mastered his social in-
stincts, he will reflect and compare the now weakened impres-
sion of such past impulses with the ever present social instinct ;
and he will then feel that sense of dissatisfaction which all un-
satisfied instincts leave behind them. Consequently he resolves
to act differently for the future. And this is conscience. Any
instinct which is permanently stronger or more enduring than
another gives rise to a feeling which we express by saying that
it ought to be obeyed. A pointer dog, if able to reflect on his
past conduct, would say to himself, I ought (as, indeed, we say
of him) to have pointed at that hare, and not have yielded to
the passing temptation of hunting it." (Part II. c. xxi.)
There is an immense number of unfiUed-up breaks in this
process, far more so than even in his genealogy of man. That
the lower animals are social beings, and that this arises from
social instincts, is admitted. But social feelings are one thing,
and a sense of right and wrong another thing, — quite as differ-
ent as color is from shape or sound. It is the sense of right
and wrong that constitutes man a moral and (taken along with
free will and intelligence) a responsible being. It is when man
has his social and instinctive qualities under subjection to the
moral law revealed by conscience that he becomes a virtuous
being. But these higher qualities present in man are wanting
in the lower animals, which are, in consequence, not moral or
accountable beings. It may even be allowed that our moral
nature is intimately connected with our social feelings. Most
of our moral perceptions rise on the contemplation of social
relations, — our relations to our fellow-men and to God. But
they spring up in breasts susceptible of them : they would not
come forth in a stock or a stone ; there is no evidence that they
come forth in the souls of animals. There is no doubt that man
is more inclined to look back on the past, and reflect upon it,
than the lower creatures, which, I suspect, are not much given
to musing or moralizing. But it is one thing to look back on
DARWIN'S DESCENT OF MAN. 361
the past, and another to regard it as morally good or evil. Man
is led to declare that there is a moral law which "ought to be
obeyed," that there are instincts which ought to be restrained ;
but there is no evidence of such a moral decision being come
to by the pointer dog, or any other animal. The reference to
the pointer is a clear evidence that Mr. Darwin has not so much
as weighed what is involved in our moral perceptions, judgments,
and sentiments, how much is involved in the idea of right and
wrong, of ought, obligation, merit and demerit.
As the general result of this survey, we see that man has
ideas involving principles different from any to be found in the
lower creatures. The possession of these puts man in an en-
tirely different order from the brutes that perish : they make
him a responsible being, and point to and guarantee an immor-
tality. I believe that man so endowed must have come from
the Power which created matter at first, and added life as the
ages rolled on, and gave the brutes their instincts or incipient
intelligence, and crowned his works by creating a moral and
responsible being.
More than one half of the " Descent of Man " is occupied with
an investigation of Sexual Selection. The discussion of this
question must be left to those who have given attention, as Mr.
Darwin has done, to the courtship, the propagation, and do-
mestication of animals. Most of what he says has no bearing
on the subjects discussed in these Lectures. The views which
he presents are always ingenious, but they seem to me to be
wire-drawn and overstretched. When animals have a tame,
dull hue, it is because they are thereby less exposed to danger
than if they had conspicuous colors. If a male has bright colors,
it is to attract the female. He adds, however: "We ought to
♦ be cautious in concluding that colors which appear to us dull
are not attractive to the females of certain species. We should
bear in mind such cases as those of the common house-sparrow,
in which the male differs much from the female, but does not
exhibit any bright tints." Female birds have commonly a duller
color, as bright hues would expose them to beasts of prey in
hatching. Some males are white, as thereby they are rendered
attractive to the females. But in other cases black seems the
10
362 APPENDIX.
favorite color. "It seems at first sight a monstrous supposi-
tion that the jet blackness of the negro has been gained through
sexual selection ; but this view is supported by various an-
alogies, and we know that negroes admire their own black-
ness" (Part II. c. XX.) A law so flexible may be drawn round
a great many phenomena, and seem to bind them. I am sure
that in the vegetable kingdom (which I have studied more care-
fully) there is a beauty of flower which cannot have been pro-
duced by selection on the part of man, for I have seen it in
remote isles of Scotland, and virgin forests of America never
trodden by human footsteps ; and this in plants which cannot
have been aided by beauty-loving insects carrying the pollen.
And if there be beauty in the vegetable kingdom independent
of creature-selection, there may surely be the same in the animal
kingdom. Here, as in so many other cases, his law explains so
much, but not the whole. In all these speculations, — for Mr.
Darwin acknowledges that his work is highly speculative, —
there are laws and operations implied, of which he can give no
account on his theory of Natural Selection. Whence the
strong impulses of the males, and the coyness of the females,
all implied in the laws which he illustrates, that the male needs
gay colors and showy forms to attract the female, who does not
require these ? Whence the love of the beautiful in the female,
the love of certain colors and certain forms, an anticipation of
the higher aesthetics among cultivated minds ? Whence that love
of music appearing in birds, and becoming so cultivated and
elevating a taste in advanced hvmianity 1 In the way in which
all these things have appeared, and in the forms which they
have taken, and in the mutual adaptations of all things to one
another, and to seasons and circumstances, I delight to trace a
presiding Intelligence, foreseeing all things from the beginning,
and fruidins: them towards a grand and beneficent end.
Art. III. On Mr. Herbert Spencer's Philosophy.
Mr. Spencer is acknowledged, on all hands, to be a powerful
speculative thinker. Give him a set of facts, and he at once
MR. SPENCER'S PHILOSOPHY. 363
proceeds to generalize them, and devise a theory to account for
them. He evidently regards it as his function to unify the meta-
physics of the day and the grand discoveries lately made in phys-
ical science. He is fond of declaring that a number of the great
laws announced in our day as the result of a long course oi
inductive investigation, such as that of the Conservation ol
Physical Force, can be discovered by a priori cogitation. His
strength is his weakness. Instead of proceeding, as Bacon rec-
ommends, gradatim from lower to higher axioms, and only in
the end to the highest of all, he mounts at once to the very lof-
tiest generalizations. My friend Hugh Millet said of an author,
that in his argument there was an immense number oi fa'en
steeks (fallen stitches) : the language might be applied to Mr.
Spencer's philosophy. It may be safely said of some of his
high speculations, that they will not be either proven or dis-
proven for ages.
1. He proceeds on the philosophy of Sir William Hamilton
and Dr. Mansel, maintaining that all our knowledge is Relative ;
turning the doctrine to a very different purpose from that contem-
l^lated by the Edinburgh and Oxford metapliysicians. Hamilton
thought that the doctrine of Relativity, with the consequent
ignorance of the nature of things, might be applied to humble
the pride of the intellect ; Mansel used it to undermine religious
rationalism ; and Spencer employs it, perhaps more logically
than either, to show that God, if there be a God, is unknowable.
I have been laboring in these Lectures (see IV., V.), and in
my works generally (Meth. of Div. Gov., App. VI. ; Intuitions,
Part III. B. I. c. iii. § 6), to show that the doctrine, as advocated
by these metaphysicians, is not a true one ; and I am thus pre-
pared to reject that structure which Mr. Spencer would rear
upon it. We know self directly in the state in which it is at the
time, and not merely in relation to something else declared to be
unknown.
2. It follows that there is nothing inconceivable or contradic-
tory, as the school maintains that there is, in such ideas as Self-
Existence and First Cause. We know ourselves as existing,
and can thence conceive of others, of God, as existing. We
certainly do not know ourselves as self-existing, because we dis-
3^4
APPENDIX.
cover that we are caused ; but we can conceive — I mean, think
and beheve — that God, while he exists, is uncaused. I believe
that all causation carries us to a substance with powers. The
substances we see on earth are evidently derived ; but, as we
mount up, we come to an underived substance, — and this with-
out falling even into an apparent contradiction. The whole of
these alleged contradictions, so much dwelt on by Hamilton in
his " Discussions," and Mansel in his " Bampton Lectures,"
and Spencer in the opening of his " First Principles," are con-
tradictions simply in the propositions of the metaphysicians, and
not at all in the actual laws or beliefs of the human mind.
3. It may be doubted whether he is entitled to say that there
is an unknown reality beyond the known phenomena. I have
referred to this in Lecture VL I must leave the farther discus-
sion of it to his school, some of whom will deny that he can or
his principles know so certainly that there is an unknown.
4. I have shown; in the same Lecture, that the fundamental
verities in the mind, properly interpreted, lead us to a God so
far known. He talks of our knowing certain things, and says
(First Prin. p. 143), "All things known to us are manifestations
of the unknowable ; " and (p. 170) that force is " a certain con-
ditioned eflfect of unconditioned cause ; " and (p. 165) " our con-
ception of space is produced by some mode of the unknowable ; "
and he speaks (p. 168) of " the unknown cause which produces in
us the effects called Matter, Space, Time, and Motion." I hold
that a cause thus known is so far known.
5. He utterly fails to account on his principles, though he
seems to be doing so, for some of the most certain of known
phenomena, such as Sensation, Nervous Action, Life, and Con-
sciousness.
Sensation. — Among all the laws mentioned by him, such as
the Persistence of Force, Instabihty of the Homogeneous, no
one is in the least degree fitted to produce this common phenom-
enon, experienced by all of us, in the shape of pleasure and
pain. This is one of the most patent of the gaps in his system.
Nervotts Action. — He tells us (First Prin. p. 476) that,
through the " continuous sorting and grouping together of
changes or motions which constitutes nervous function, there is
MR. SPENCER- S PHILOSOPHT. 365
gradually wrought that sorting and grouping together of matter
which constitutes nervous structure." Here, as in so many-
other cases, he misses the differentia of what he would explain.
There are everywhere instances of " continuous sorting and
grouping together of changes or motions," — we have it, I
believe, in the molecular motion of every body, — without those
peculiar operations found in the nerves, sensor or motor, affer-
ent or efferent.
Life. — He tells us (Biology, vol. i. pp. 1-3) that organic bod-
ies are composed mainly of ultimate units, having extreme
mobility. Three of the elements, oxygen, hydrogen, and nitro-
gen, are known only in the aeriform state, and defy all efforts to
liquefy them. Three of them again, hydrogen, carbon, and nitro-
gen, have affinities that are narrow in their range and low in their
intensity ; while oxygen displays a very high chemical energy.
Thus these two extreme contrasts — the one between physical
mobilities, the other between chemical activities — fulfil, in the
highest degree, a certain farther condition of facility of differen-
tiation and integration. He discovers — and I believe he is
right — a significance in this. It is part of the means by which
organisms fulfil their functions, specially the phenomena of
evolution. But while s.uch properties are conditions which ena-
ble life to work, they certainly do not constitute life, — still less are
they fitted to produce the beauteous and bounteous forms of life
which we see around us : they might have been wasted quite as
readily in producing ugly or useless products.
Many attempts have been made to define '' Life," to show
what it consists in. Most of these have been unsuccessful ; but
the most unsuccessful of them all is Mr. Spencer's. I quote his
own account of his efforts, given in his " Psychology," Part III.
c. i. : " In Part I. c. iv. of the ' Principles of Biology,' the prox-
imate idea we arrived at was, that Life is 'the definite combina-
tion of heterogeneous changes, both simultaneous and successive.'
In the next chapter, it was shown that, to develop this proxi-
mate idea into a complete idea, it is needful to recognize the
connection between these actions going on within an organism,
and the actions going on without it. We saw that life is ade-
quately conceived only when we think of it as ' the definite
:^66 APPENDIX.
combination of heterogeneous changes, both simultaneous and
successive, in correspondences with external co-existences and
sequences.' Afterwards, this definition was found to be reduci-
ble to the briefer definition, ' The continuous adjustment of
internal relations to external relations ; ' and though, by leaving
out the characteristic of heterogeneity, this definition is rendered
somewhat too wide, so that it includes a few non-vital phenomena
which stimulate vitality, yet practically no error is likely to result
from its use." The definition would apply to the appearance
of meteors within our atmosphere in autumn, to the simultaneous
springing of buds, or the arrival of migrating birds, in spring, to
the issuing of bees from the hive when it swarms, or even to the
arrival of the elected of the people to the House of Commons in
London, or the House of Representatives in Washington. The
last form of the definition would apply to a man putting on his
clothes and keeping them clean, or the housewife suiting her
dwelling to its surroundings. In all of them the essential ele-
ment of life is omitted ; and, in accounting for the things he has
defined, he has not accounted for life.
Consciousness. — Still less among all his laws, which are, after
all, mere generalized facts of physical nature, has he any means
of producing knowledge, — the knowledge which the mind takes
of things without it, and of itself and its own operations. Be-
cause force persists, it does not follow that we should come to
know force, or power, or goodness. If he attribute these, as I
believe he does, to a cause beyond sensible phenomena, I agree
with him ; but then the power which did this is so far known
to us.
Intelligence. — In " Psychology," Part III. c. ix., he says that
every act of intelligence is "in essence an adjustment of inner
to outer relations." Surely the very " essence " of intelligence
is lost sight of in such a definition. It is still more vague and
unsatisfactory than his definition of Life. It would apply to the
adjustment of a letter to its envelope, of a picture to its frame,
of a jewel to its casket, of a tree to the climate. In Part IV. c. vi.,
he says, " Each act of recollection is the establishment of an
inner relation, answering to some outer relation." When I recol-
lect that at a certain time I was happy, and at another time I
MR. SPENCER'S PHILOSOPII7: 367
yvas unhajjpy, I discover some inner, but I see no outer rela-
tions.
6. He cannot account for our higher ideas, such as those of
Power and Moral Good. He says (First Prin. p. 22) " that the
disciples of Kant and those of Locke have both their views
recognized in the theory that organized experiences produce
forms of thought." Now I admit that experiences may come to
descend in the shape of tendencies. — tendencies to act in a
particular way ; as, for example, in a disposition to hoard or to
spend, to show cunning or courage. But there is no evidence
that they can produce what is meant by a "form of thought ; "
but which might better be denominated a first truth, or first
principle, or a fundamental law of belief First, there is no proof
that the brutes have any of those forms of thought which higher
metaphysicians discover in man, — as the necessary conviction
that every event must have a cause, and the ethical principle that
good is meritorious and rewardable, and that sin is of evil desert
and punishable. The lower animals nowhere appear with these
forms of thought, and man is found everywhere with them. Any
tendencies which man may acquire by organized experiences are
not of the nature of a fundamental law of thought, belief, or judg-
ment. They are rather tastes and predilections, or tribal and
national characteristics, acquired in the first instance by individ-
uals, and going down from one generation to another. They
have no reference to beliefs or truths, but are mere inclinations
seeking gratification and impelling to action. They do not carry
with them self-evidence or necessity of thought. Whereas the
forms of thought, in the philosophic use of the term, carry with
them their own evidence ; are common to all men, are catholic
or universal ; are found working in children as well as among
persons arrived at mature life, among savages as well as civilized
men. It is scarcely necessary to explain that, in adult and civil-
ized life, they have higher apphcations than among children or
barbarians ; but they are ever operating in the one class as in
the other.
7. He places very heterogeneous objects and operations in his
wide generalizations. To mention only a few : He is speaking
CFirst Prin., Part II. c. viii.) of the Transformation and Equiva-
368 APPENDIX.
lence of Forces, meaning Physical Forces ; and he passes on, as
if they were the same, to Mental and Moral and Social Forces,
which are regulated by mental laws and by motives. He tells
us that " a small society, no matter how superior the character
of its members, cannot exhibit the same quantity of social action
as a large one." As if the Jews, the Athenians, the Dutch, the
Scotch, the Puritans, though comparatively small peoples, had
not exerted a very powerful social influence. Then he shows, as
if it were all done by an accumulation of physical force, that,
when there is an unusually abundant harvest, capital seeks
investment, labor is expended, and new channels of commerce
are opened, while there are more marriages and an increase of
23opulation.
In c. ix. he is speaking of the Direction of Motion, and
assures us that "vohtion is itself an incipient discharge along a
line which previous experiences have rendered a line of least
resistance ; and the passing of volition into action is simply a com-
pletion of the discharge ; " and he goes on to explain, in the same
way, a great number of social phenomena, such as " the flow of
capital into business yielding the largest returns." That there
may be no misapprehension, he says : " By some it may be said
that the term force, as here used, is used metaphorically, — that
to speak of men as impelled in certain directions, by certain
desires, is a figure of speech, and not the statement of a physical
fact. The reply is, that the foregoing illustrations are to be
interpreted literally, and that the processes described are phys-
ical ones."
In c. xxi. his subject is Segregation ; and he is showing how,
in physical operation, there is an advance from the indefinite to
the definite, and then accounts on this principle for the separa-
tion of races. " Human motions, like all other motions, being
determined by the distribution of forces, it follows that such
segregations of races as are not produced by incident external
forces are produced by forces which the units of the races exer-
cise on each other."
It is by such loose analogies, represented as identities, that
he is able so easily to account for the production of the universe
by a few wide laws.
MR. SPENCER'S PHILOSOPHY. 369
8. In his construction of the universe, he fails to discover the
need of adjustments, in order that the forces may accomphsh
beneficent ends. He seems to derive every thing from what he
calls the " Persistence of Force," which is the name he adopts
to express what is usually called the Conservation of Force ;
that is, the sum of force in the universe, potential and actual,
is one and the same, and when a force disappears in one form,
it must appear in another. But every one sees that, but for a
regulated channel provided for it, blind force might operate in
destructive quite as readily as beneficent modes. The same
remark holds good of such laws as that a body follows the path
of " Least Resistance," — that is, in which there is least opposing
force; the Instabihty of the Homogeneous, — that is, with the
varied operating forces, bodies are not likely to continue in a
state of rest ; the Rhythm of Motion, — that is, that many bodies
liable to be driven or pulled in a number of ways will proceed in
curves of various kinds. He shows that from the forces oj^erat-
ing there must be such operations, as Segregation, Equilibration,
Dissolution. But all these, but for adjustments, are as capable
of producing wasting as construction and benignity. That they
are made to work as they do, I beheve Mr. Spencer would
ascribe to the action of the unknown reality. But when 1 see
order, harmony, and happiness everywhere in nature, I argue
the reality from which it proceeds must possess wisdom and
beneficence.
Cambridge : Press of John Wilson & Son.
UNION THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY,
New York.
THE ELY LECTURESHIP
Cije OulntienceiS of Cljrtstianiti).
SECOND SERIES.
By JAMES McCOSH, D.D., LL.D.
WORKS BY DR. McCOSH
THE METHOD OF THE DIVINE GOVERN
MENT, Physical and Moral. 8vo. $2.50.
" It is refreshing to read a work so distinguished for originaUty and soundness of
thinking, especially as coming from an author of our own country." — Sir ii'illiam
Hamilton.
" This work is distinguished from other similar ones by its being based upon a
thorough study of physical science, and an accurate knowledge of its present condition,
and by its entering in a deeper and more unfettered manner than its predecessors upon
the discussion of the appropriate psychological, ethical, and theological questions.
The author keeps aloof at once from the a priori idealism and dreaminess of German
speculation since Schelling, and from the one-sidedness and narrowness of the em-
piricism and positivism which have so prevailed in England. In the provinces of
psychology and ethics he follows conscientiously the facts of consciousness, and draws
his conclusions of them commonly with penetration and logical certainty." — Dr.
Ulrici, in Zeitschrijt fur Philosophie.
II.
TYPICAL FORMS AND SPECIAL ENDS IN
CREATION. Bj James McCosh, LL.D., and Dr. Dickie.
8vo. $2.50.
" It is alike comprehensive in its range, accurate and minute in its details, original
in its structure, and devout and spirited in its tone and tendency. It illustrates and
carries out the great principle of analogy in the Divine plans and works, far more
minutely and satisfactorily than it has been done before ; and while it presents the
results of the most profound scientific research, it presents them in their higher and
spiritual relations." — A rgiis.
III.
THE INTUITIONS OF THE MIND. New and
Improved edition. 8vo. $3.00.
" No philosopher, before Dr. McCosh, has clearly brought out the stages by which
an original and individual intuition passes first into an articulate but still individual
judgment, and then into a universal maxim or principle ; and no one has so clearly or
completely classified and enumerated our intuitive convictions, or exhibited in d:tail
their relations to the various sciences which repose on them as their foundations
The amount of summarized information which it contains is very great ; and it is the
only work on the very important subject with which it deals. Never was such a work
so much needed as in the present day. It is the only scientific work adapted to coun-
teract the school of Mill, Bain, and Herbert Spencer, which is so steadily prevailing
among the students of the present generation." — London Quarterly Review, Aj>rU
1S65.
WORKS BY DR. McCOSH.
IV.
A DEFENCE OF FUNDAMENTAL TRUTH.
Being an Examination of Mr. J. S. Mill's Philosophy. Svo.
$3.00.
" The spirit of these discussions is admirable. Fearless and courteous, McCosh
never hesitates to bestow praise when merited, nor to attack a heresy wherever found."
— Cong. Review.
V.
ACADEMIC TEACHING IN EUROPE: Being
Dr. McCosh's Address at his Inauguration as President of
the College of New Jersey. 50 cents.
VI.
LAWS OF DISCURSIVE THOUGHT: Being a
Text-book of Formal Logic. i2mo. $1.50.
" The position from which Dr. McCosh was called to America was the professoi-
ship of Logic and Metaphysics in Queen's College, Belfast ; and this volume of two
hundred pages is the fruit of his study and experience in the department of logic.
It is therefore a condensed but exhaustive exhibition of the principles of the science
which he has more thoroughly mastered than perhaps any other living man. He
has made that careful inductive investigation of the operations of the human mind
which is essential to the constitution of the science, and freely avowing his regard for
the old logic, which no modern improvements have overthrown, he is fully in harmony
with whatever the greatest thinkers of subsequent ages, even of our own times, liave
contributed to the subject. The book is admirably adapted to the use of classes
in schools and colleges, where it will readily and rapidly find its way." — N. Y.
Observer.
VII.
CHRISTIANITY AND POSITIVISM. A Series of
Lectures to the Times on Natural Theology and Apologetics.
i2mo. $1.75.
ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,
New York.
/l//K)//7^4/