Faith, philosophy and reason : a baccalaureate sermon, delivered at Williamstown, MS., August 18, 1850

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PRES. HOPKINS'S SERMON

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FAITH. PHILOSOPHY AND REASON.

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BACCALAUREATE SERMON,

DELIVERED AT

WILLIAMSTOWN, MS

AUGUST 18, 1850.

BY MARK HOPKINS, D. D.

President of JUHtlltams College.

BOS TON:

PRESS OF T. R. MARVIN, 24 CONGRESS STREET.
185 0.

B and opinions have been communicated to me, which have encour-
aged the hope that the publication of the following Discourse may be useful
at the present time. It would have been published sooner, but the nature
■ad limit-* of the occasion on which it was delivered precluded as full a
■ ]h lints, particularly if objections were to be obviated,
Jd In- desirable ; and I have hoped to find time, either to expand, or
■I and publish it in a dim-rent form. Not having been able to do
it WM delivered. That it may add something to
i -xpn-ssion on this subject ; that it
may lend to place Faith, as one of the great natural principles of action,
it belongs ; and especially, that it may strengthen the faith of some
humbl- ;' the desire and prayer of the Author.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850,

bi T. EL hUxrar,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

SERMON.

HEBREWS, xi. 33, 34.

WHO THROUGH FAITH SUBDUED KINGDOMS, WROUGHT RIGHTEOUSNESS, OBTAINED

PROMISES, STOPPED THE MOUTHS OF LIONS, QUENCHED THE VIOLENCE OF FIRE,

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ESCAPED THE EDGE OF THE SWORD, OUT OF WEAKNESS WERE MADE STRONG,

WAXED VALLANT IN FIGHT, TURNED TO FLIGHT THE ARMIES OF THE ALIENS.

The word ' hero,' does not occur in the Bible.
Nothing can be more opposite to its spirit than that
self-sufficiency, and recklessness of human rights
and sufferings, which are commonly associated with
this term. Still, there are no higher examples of a
true heroism than the Bible presents. In the text,
and the chapter from which it is taken, we have an
account of great and heroic exploits, performed in-
deed in ancient times, but such as we should be
glad to see emulated, such as ought to be emulated
in the midst of the light and advantages of our day.
We have a right to expect, as the stream of time
rolls on and pours its accumulated wealth at the feet
of new generations, that there shall not only be an
increase in the knowledge of nature, but that there
shall be, at least, no failure in the breadth and com-
pass of a comprehensive wisdom, or in the might of
a true manhood that is ready to do and to suffer in
the cause of humanity and of God.

lint not <>m!\ ma\ in expect this; it is also inti-
mated bj the Apostle that n i- expected and
watched tor by those who have gone before us.
Ilr represents, in the opening <>f the succeeding
chapter, those worthies and reterans who had hn-
ished their own course, as gathered into a ^im
assembly, forming " a cloud of witnesses," and
watching with intense interest the hearing of those
who follow them. " Seeing then,"' says he, " that
we are compassed about with so great a cloud of
witnesses, let US rim with patience the race that is
set before us."

This race, my friends of the Graduating Class, I
would now invite you to run. You are especially
called upon to emulate the example of the great
and good, — to do deeds that shall not only cause
joy on earth, but shall send a new thrill through the
assembly of those who have jjone before you.

lint if \on air to do the deeds of these ancient
hiroi s sou must he girded with the same armor, be
controlled bj the same principle, must have the
same prize in yoUI eye, and be sustained by the

same power. Fruitful as the nineteenth eenturv
h.is been in inventions, it yet rurnishes none for
making great and good men. The great tree must
grow now from the same earth, ami under the same
sun. ami l>\ the s.uur processes and ministrations of

di w and i.iiu and sjomis. as the great tree of old ;
and SO, DOW, BS of did. must the lite and might of
trm greatness be drawn from the same fountains,
and work themselves out bj essentially the same
processes. Were these deeds performed of old only

by faith ? then only by faith will they be performed
now.

What then is Faith ? Avowed by Christianity as
its peculiar principle of action, ridiculed by the
philosophers, is it indeed some new, or peculiar, or
blind, or fanatical principle ? Or is it one of those
grand and universal principles which underlie human
action, which are necessary to true heroism, to a
right philosophy, to individual and social perfection,
and which must, in the progress of light, come more
and more into distinct recognition and general ac-
knowledgement ?

Whatever faith may be, it must be conceded that
the accounts given of it by its advocates have been
neither uniform nor consistent. It has been said to
be simple belief, founded on evidence, and not dif-
fering from any other belief; to be belief in testi-
mony ; to be belief for reasons not derived from
intrinsic evidence ; to be a belief on the ground of
probable, as distinguished from demonstrative evi-
dence ; to be a belief in things invisible and super-
natural ; to be a trust ; and more recently, and
transcendentally, it has been said to be an organ of
the soul by which it becomes cognizant of the invis-
ible and the supernatural.

To some, this diversity of statement may seem
to indicate that there can be nothing in faith very
definite or important. To me it indicates the re-
verse ; for while men do certainly differ about
things which are indefinite and obscure, yet it is
also found that they come latest, if at all, to the
investigation of those principles which are the most

intimate and i ■■nniinl. and that the) am no where
less liki 1 \ to come to .1 uniform and satisfactory re-
buIl As in matbematicf the truth- that are most
m .11I % intuitive are the last and the meet difficult to
be demonstrated, s«> here tin- principles and pro-

- which are go 1 isantia] th.tt the) seem in-
woven into our being, an the last to be investigated
;ui(l the most difficult to be satisfactorily explained.
Men are no better agreed what reason is, or what
persona] i < 1 « • 1 1 1 it \ consists in, than the) arc what
faith is; and ret, .1- those who think wrongl) on
these subjects may, and do, exercise their reason,
nnil continue the same persons precisely a- the)
would it the) thought rightly, bo those who make
different statements in regard to faith, all exercise
faith, .mil receive the benefits of faith, in precisely
tin* same wa) •

That the term faith ma) not l»e used loosely and
popularly, to designate the ideas just mentioned, and
;iImi others, I would imt sa) ; hut the inquiry now
is, What, genetically, and specifically, is that Faith
upon which the Bible insists as essential to salva-
tion, and l>\ which the great deeds it records were
performed? Can this faith be so defined that our
idea of it shall be distinct, that it shall harmonize
with philosoph) and with reason, and that it shall
he adequate to the great offices assigned to it in the
Bible?

I propose in the following Discourse, first, to
answer these inquiries; and secondly, to speak of
the offices of faith — more particularly, as adapted

to this occasion, of its office as a principle of action
to be adopted by every young man.

The definition of faith which I would propose,
and which seems to me to meet the conditions just
mentioned, is, that it is confidence in a personal
being. Faith lives and moves and has its being
only in the region of personality. Whatever we
may believe respecting things visible or invisible, on
any other ground than our confidence in a personal
being, does not seem to me to be faith. It implies
the recognition of a moral nature, and a conviction
of the trust-worthiness of the being possessed of
such a nature.

This definition of faith implies a division of this
universe into two departments, that of persons, and
that of things ; and, in connection with this division,
will give us a clear distinction between philosophy
and faith. The sphere of faith is the region of per-
sonality, that of philosophy is the region of things.
Each of these spheres addresses our sensibilities and
calls for investigation, but in accordance with its
own nature and laws.

By things, are called forth, in the region of sensi-
bility, the emotions of beauty, of sublimity, and of
admiration ; by persons, in addition to these, confi-
dence, affection, passion.

In her investigations in the department of things,
philosophy is concerned, not with all knowledge,
but chiefly with resemblances in those things that
exist together, and with uniformities in those that
exist in succession. These are the basis of all clas-
sification, of all inductive reasoning — and it is

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through these that \\< get .ill our ideas of physical

order ;iinl law .

Philosophy presupposes a knowledge of things as
they exist separatelj . This being given, she neglects
.ill individual peculiarities, and proceeds i « » group
them according to their resemblances, and to give
them collective names. In doing this she acquires
for man power, and practical guidance, because a
mblance in externa] signs denotes a resemblance
in essential properties. This gives value to the signs
of nature, and shows that in the department of
resemblances she is constituted <>n the basis ol
truth.

But not "nl\ does philosophy notice resemblances
in beings and phenomena that exist together, she
also notices uniformity of succession ; and is thus
enabled to foretell the future, and toact wisehj with
reference to it. She believes in a uniformity of suc-
cession according to the order that is established.
she investigates the laws in accordance with which
ilii> succession moves on. As among things that
exist together, she know s nothing of individual pecu-
liarities, bo in phenomena that exist in succession,
she knows nothing of exceptions, and admits with
great reluctance, or not at all, that such exceptions
re;ill\ exist

Such, except as she may be said to investigate
eauses, is philosophy. She stands in the centre of
things that co-exist, and passes onward and outward
to the farthest star, stepping more or less firmly as
the resemblances, by which alone she proceeds, are
more or less perfect ; she stands at the present point

in things that succeed each other, and binds the
future to the past by what she conceives to be an
inexorable law.

But it may be inquired whether philosophy does not
extend to the domain of mind. Yes, so far as mind
is a thing, and hence under the law of an absolute
uniformity, but no farther. The moment a personal
being is placed under that law of nature by which
that which follows is necessarily the product of that
which precedes, personality ceases, and you have mere
nature — a thing. The very idea of that necessary
uniformity upon which philosophy is based, precludes
that of personality. It also precludes the idea of
faith ; for whatever we may believe without the range
of personality, and on whatever grounds, there is
always wanting that element which enters into faith
by which a person may be said not only to have
confidence, but to be confiding.

The sphere of faith, as opposed to that of philos-
ophy, is, as I have said, the region of personality.
Here we find affections, and a moral nature, and a
free-will. In the sphere of things we deal with
similarities, and uniformities of succession, and laws,
and do not necessarily know anything back of these.
We may indeed refer them all to a personal agent,
but for the grounds of our belief we are not necessi-
tated to go beyond the uniformities and laws them-
selves. We have in these nothing of the great
element of character. But in our dealings with
personal beings, whatever ground we may have for
belief, either of what they say, or of what they
will do, must be found, not in any law, not in any

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unvarying uniformiu conceived of as necessary, but
in the character of the personal beiniz:. This is an
element entirely different from any found in the
spin iv of philosophy, and it is upon this that faith
axes. This is the grand peculiarity of faith; it is
confidence in a persona] being. Like belief, it ad-
mits of degrees. As the highest form of belief is
certainty, bo the highest form of faith is such a con-
fidence in the character of any being as will lead
us to believe whatever he maj sa} because he says
it, and to commit implicitly into his hands every in-
i. n Bt of »>ur being.

And as that without us which calls forth faith, is
so different from that which is the basis of philoso-
phy 90 it ma) be remarked, is that within us which
is brought into action also different. Doubtless the
nature of man is preconformed to the state into
which he is to come, and as he naturalK conforms
himself t<» the uniformities of nature, so does he,
though l>\ .i different principle, naturally confide in
those to whom his being is intrusted. It is not to
be supposed that that feeling of confidence with
which the infant looks up into the eye of its mother,
with which the mw formed angel must look up to
his God, is the s.iiue ,is that l>\ which he is adapted
to the blind and unvarying movements of nature.
It is not to he supposed. ,is these two great spheres
of persons and of things are so distinct, that our na-
ture should not he equallj preconformed to each.

If the spin res of faith and of philosophy be thus
distinct, it will be obvious that they can come into
conflict onl\ at a single point. A personal being
maj maki asa rtions about tacts that lie within the

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domain of philosophy, and these assertions may
seem to conflict, and may conflict, with evidence
respecting those same facts derived from philosophy.
But in such a case man is not left to the alternative
of a blind faith or a presumptuous philosophy. His
reason is to decide. By this he is to ascertain, on
the one side, that a personal being has spoken, what
he has said, what means he had of knowing the
truth, and what confidence is to be placed in his
character. On the other side, he is to inquire
whether he knows all the facts and their relations,
and is sure of his inferences. If, after this, there
shall seem to be a conflict, or a contradiction, reason
must strike the balance, and say whether, under the
circumstances, it is more rational to put confidence
in a personal being, or to believe in facts and deduc-
tions for which we have another species of evidence.
Reason recognizes both these grounds of belief;
and she, and she only, can decide in cases of appar-
ent conflict between them.

Having thus considered the relations of faith and
philosophy, let us now look at those of faith and
reason.

It*is strange with what pertinacity the opponents
of Christianity have insisted that there is, and must
be, a conflict between these ; and how readily many
advocates of Christianity have assented to this view.
So far has this been carried, that a recent and much-
lauded article in the Edinburgh Review is entitled,
" Reason and Faith ; their claims and conflicts."
But such conflict is by no means to be admitted.
There is just as much opposition between reason

,111.1 faith, as tin re is between reason and philoso-
phy. ;iikI DO more

[f ml reason as giving us only intuitive

;iikI necessarj troths, then it will act equally in the
domain of philosophy and of faith, and there can
be do opposition between either of them ; unless,
indeed, a personal being should assert an absurdity.
IJ:n if, as is more common, wc regard reason as
comprising what is rational in man, — those high
attributes by which he is distinguished from the
brutes, and which must enter into, and preside over,
every legitimate act and process of the mind, —
then, the sphere of feith and philosophy being dif-
ferent, there can be DO conflict between reason as
employed in the sphere of philosophy, and as em-
ployed in the sphere of faith. Reason presides over
both spheres, and can therefore be in conflict with
neither. The only possible question is, whether we
ma\. in any case, just as rationally reach conclu-
-iyns and grounds of action by that process which
we call faith, as we can by that which we call phi-
losophy. But on this point there can be no ques-
tion. We act as oecessarily and as legitimately
with reference to pergonal beings by faith, as we do
in reference to things by a belief in the uniformity
of nature. It i-. jn-t as rational for a man to have
confidence in the character and consequently in the
wind of a personal being, as it is for him to believe
in the facts of observation or experience or in those
forms ami systems of knowledge deduced from these
which are called philosophy. It may, perhaps, be
found to be quite as reasonable to believe a fact be-
cause it is asserted by God, as to believe one be-

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cause it is inferred by ourselves, or even as to believe
a fact made known to us by those senses which God
has given us.

Is there not then such a thing as faith that is not
in accordance with reason ? Certainly, just as there
are inferences and philosophies that are not in ac-
cordance with reason, and perhaps it would be diffi-
cult to say whether there has been more folly and
absurdity under the name of faith or of philosophy.
My reason tells me that I may confide in the facts
given me by my senses, that I may classify these,
and build up a system of knowledge which we call
philosophy. Under this impression, men have built
up systems of philosophy which we can now see
were exceedingly irrational and foolish, but this does
not show that there is any conflict between reason
and philosophy ; but only that reason is not infallible
in this department. My reason also, all that is
rational within me, tells me that I may, and ought,
sometimes to confide in personal beings, and that
such confidence is a rational and sufficient ground of
knowledge and of action. We may, indeed, here
repose confidence where we ought not, and receive
irrational dogmas, and submit to useless or ridiculous
rites ; but this would only show that reason is not
infallible in this department.

So far then from separating faith from reason and
bringing them into possible and actual conflict, we
would say that the sphere of faith is one of the two
great spheres over which reason presides, and that
faith itself is one of the great and indispensable meth-
ods in which reason is manifested. It is a libel upon
religion to say that it requires a blind faith, or any

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other than a rational faith, of thai il requires us to
believe ani thing which it is not more rational to
believe than ii would be t" disbelieve it There is
do tendency in faith to a blind belief. It docs not
say, and baa no tendencj to say, 'I believe because
it is impossible.1 That is mere Quixotism and folly.
Faith may, indeed, take hold of the hand of a father,
and be h tiling to step w here it does not Bee; but then
»li<- i> willing thus to Btep, onlj because she has a
rational -round lor believing thai her father will lead
ber right Ckristianitj discards and repudiates alto-
gether, am faith thai can come into conflict with
reason.

This view of faith gives it a definite sphere, it
shows distinctly its relations both to philosophy and
to reason, and removes from it all that mysterious
or mystical appearance which has sometimes been
thrown around religious faith. As an exercise of
the mind it is. generically, no way different from
th.it t.» which we are constantly accustomed. When
a child follows implicitly the directions of its father,
when a client puts bis case into the hands of an ad-
vocate, there is an element in the act that is different
from simple belief, it is an element that puts honor
upon the father and the advocate. This is faith.
Faith, then, genetically, is confidence in a personal
heiiiix. Specifically, religious faith is confidence in
God, in everj aspect and office in which he reveals
himself. As thai love of which God is the object,
is religious love, so that confidence in Him as a Father,
.1 Moral Governor, a Redeemer, a Sanctifier, in all
the modes of his manifestation, by which we believe
whatever he says because he says it, and commit

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ourselves and all our interests cheerfully and entirely
into his hands, is religious faith. Surely there is in
this, nothing irrational, or hard to be understood.

The distinctive element of faith, then, is not be-
lief, but it is that perception and appreciation of
moral character upon which the belief is based. In-
volved in this there must always be a belief of the
trustworthiness of the object of our faith. Hence,
if faith were perfect, it would involve, not merely a
belief in testimony, but an obedience like that of
Abraham. In his case there was simply a com-
mand, and strictly no testimony ; yet the faith was
perfect.

It is this complex nature of faith that has caused
the confusion respecting it. It does imply a move-
ment of both the rational and the emotive nature.
In this, sometimes the one, and sometimes the other
may predominate, but it is never due either to the
intellect simply, or to the feelings simply. When
outward appearances, as in the case of Abraham,
are opposed to the dictates of faith, it will be an af-
fectionate confidence. When there is no such oppo-
sition, it will be a confiding affection in which the
confidence may seem to be entirely absorbed and
transfigured into love. The belief involved in faith,
is based on those very qualities which necessarily
call forth emotion or affection ; and hence, in this
act, the two are fused and inseparably blended.
Hence too the moral element in faith, which is not
necessarilv in mere belief, and hence its power as a
principle of action. Nor is there any thing strange
or anomalous in this. Pity is a complex act, consist-
ing of sympathy for distress and a desire to relieve

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it. These maj exist in different proportions, but it
either be wanting there is do pitj ; and yet no one
finds .in\ difficult} in understanding what pity is.

Having thus considered the nature of faith, we
now proceed t<> its offices.

Of faith in general, the great office is to underlie
all the social intercourse of persona] beings. It is
to this higher and distinct sphere of personal inter-
course, \\ li it a belief in the uniformity of nature is in

our interc >•■ With nature. Without confidence

society is impossible. It is the great element and
condition of social prosperity and happiness. Uni-
\< rsallj it will hr found that all the ends of society
arc reached, in proportion aa there is mutual confi-
dence between husbands and wives, parents and
children, rulers and subjects, buyers and sellers,
friend^ and neighbors. Remove hut the sinjrle ele-
incut of distrust, and who does not see that the
Lire.it cause cf human wretchedness would he taken
away. Let but the one element of a general and
perfect confidence he poured into the now heaving
mass of human society, and its agitations would
BUbside, and it would he at once aggregated and
crystalized into it> most perfect forms. In connec-
tion with this, everj form of human attachment
would strike deep root, even mutual affinity would
have free play, and every capacity of man for happi-
ness from intercourse with his fellow-men would be

filled.

Of the more specific offices of religious faith we
will fust consider that, so much insisted on in the
Scriptures, bj w Inch it accepts a gratuitous salvation.

17

From the nature of faith as now stated, it is easy to
see that its relation to such a salvation is a necessary
and not an arbitrary one. To be accepted, a gift
must first be appreciated, and desired as a gift.
This, in the case of salvation from sin, involves re-
pentance. And then there must be full confidence
in the sincerity of him who offers the gift. This is
faith, and, the gift being desired, there can be a com-
pletion of the confidence only in its acceptance. In
this view of it faith is not that in consequence of
which we receive the salvation, as if the faith exist-
ed first and accepted the salvation afterwards, but
faith is the very act of confidence by which the sal-
vation is accepted. It is a confidence which can
become complete only as it accepts the offer, because
it is only as He makes the offer that the Saviour
offers himself to our confidence. Faith then, in its
relation to salvation, is that confidence by which we
accept it as a free gift from the Saviour, and is the
only possible way in which this gift of God could
be appropriated. How simple ! how rational ! how
strange it should fail to be understood !

A second office of religious faith, as stated in the
Scriptures, is to unite man to God, and in so doing,
to give him power with God. To this, faith, as
now explained, is perfectly adapted. As our rela-
tions to God are so numerous and intimate, and as
confidence in him can be based only on a perception
of those perfect attributes which would call out the
highest affection, it must be an affectionate confi-
dence. But it is only by an affectionate confidence
that such a being as man can be united to God, or.

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indeed, that am one moral being can be united to
another. Let tin- exist and e\ei\ thing in the rela-

tionsof the two beings must be pleasant, the relation

its.li' will he the ground of the highesl satisfaction
which onr nature cm know, and will lie at the foun-
dation of a higher and aobler idea of being and of
order than air. other. What is the idea of myriads
oi orbs circling in harmonj together, compared with
tli.it of myriads of intelligent and moral beings
united to God and to each other in a mutual and
affectionate confidence? Here we find the true end
oi' this universe — an order of which all other order
i> hut the symbol.

And while faith thus unites us to God, it is natural
and rational to suppose that it should ha\e the great

power ascribed to it in the Scriptures* It i.s one of
the strongest impulses and principles of a rightly
constituted nature never to disappoint any confidence
that is jnstl\ reposed in it. This seems to be even
the instinct of a generous nature without reference to
principle* Who is there that would not protect a
dove that should come and nestle in his bosom?
An appeal b\ innocence. h\ helplessness, by distress,
in which the individual abandons himself with entire
confidence to its, is one of the strongest that can be
made to our nature, and will often be met by the
greatest sacrifices, not onl\ by individuals, but by
whole nations. L,t Kossuth escape and come to
this country, and confide himself to our protection,
and let him he pursued by the combined power of
Knssi;i and of Austria, yea by the power of the
world, and the nation would rise as one man, would
form a living wall around him, and he would

19

be taken only as his pursuers should pass over the
dead bodies of those who would stand in his defence.
Shall men do thus, and shall not God defend those
who come to put their trust under the shadow of his
wings ? Shall any innocent creature of God that is
in distress come to him and confide in him, and shall
not the resources of Omnipotence be held ready for
his deliverance ? Shall any guilty creature of God,
however debased and wretched, yea though he were
dyed and steeped in sin, come to him with a confi-
dence authorized by the death of Christ, and cast
himself upon him for pardon and adoption, and shall
he not be received even as the prodigal son ? Shall
any servant of God, in this world of conflict, be
hardly beset, and, feeling that his own strength
is weakness, look up to God with an eye of filial
confidence, and shall he not send him succor? Shall
his servants say, in the very face of the flames,
" Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from
the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us, O
king," and shall he not deliver them ? What are
the laws of nature in a case like this ? They are
but as a technicality compared with a mighty prin-
ciple. One glance of a confiding eye is mightier
than all the laws of nature. Heaven and earth may
pass away, but not a hair of him who puts confi-
dence in God shall " fall to the earth." Sooner, far
sooner, would God sweep this material framework,
with all its laws, into utter annihilation, than he
would disappoint the authorized confidence of the
most inconsiderable of his creatures. How different
is this universe when thus viewed by the light of
faith in its relation to a controlling personal being,

n

a Father, and a Friend: and when viewed in the
light of philosophy, as mere nature — as an unvarying,
tindiscriminating, crashing uniformity !

The third office <>f religious faith is to be a prin-
ciple of action. And if there be any one tiling which
.1 \ . .iiiiii man about i<> enter upon life ought to con-
sider thoroughly, it is his principles of action; Upon
these his own character, and that of his enterprises
u ill depend. ^.8 you, m\ friend-, adopt, from this
time, right principles of action, bo, and so only will
\oii promote rour true usefulness, and permanent
good.

But certain it is, referring to the distinction al-
ready made, that the highest principles of action
cannot he found io the sphere of things. Thestudy
of these maj train the intellect, and make men mere
philosophers; the} m.u awaken the desire to possess
them as property and make men misers; they may
call forth the emotions of beauty and sublimity; and
that is all. Tin re is here no confidence, no affection,
bo sympathy. But bring man. now, into intercourse
with free, personal and moral beings, and every high
faculty of his nature will come into play. The in-
tellect, and the heart, and the moral nature will act
tog ther and strengthen each other. And as the
basis of all such intercourse must be faith, so the
basis of all intercourse with God must be religious
faith.

Ai a principle of action, religious faith is con-
trasted with those adopted by the heroes of this
world, because it tends to form a complete character.
Recognizing an omnipresent and omniscient God, it
acts equally at all times, and bears as well upon the

21

minute, as upon the greater actions of life. Minute
actions and details must make up the whole life of
most men, and the greater part of the life of all
men ; and what we need above all things, is a prin-
ciple of action that shall embrace all acts equally, as
the law of gravitation embraces the atom and the
planet, and that may dignify the smallest act by the
principle from which it proceeds. Such a principle
is religious faith ; and nothing but this can carry the
life-blood of principle into those minuter portions of
human conduct on which our happiness here chietfy
depends. This would attune the chords of domestic
life and make them discourse sweet music ; it would
substitute the freshness of sincerity, and the flush of
benevolence, for the paint and frigidity of a false and
conventional politeness. Carrying out such a prin-
ciple, an individual may be truly great, however
humble his sphere ; and this greatness will bear the
test, and grow as it is examined ; while that which
takes human opinion as its standard and reward,
dwindles and becomes contemptible the more it is
known. This latter cultivates the art of conceal-
ment ; it is great, and generous, and kind, in public,
and mean, and selfish, and unamiable, at home.
Long enough has the world been filled with pre-
tences, and shows, and fair seemings, and whited
sepulchres ; but the remedy for these is to be found,
not in any ridicule or denunciation of hypocrisy, nor
in any splenetic or contemptuous decrial of ' shams,'
but only in the cultivation of a true religious faith.
This will be the more obvious if we notice a
second, and grand peculiarity of religious faith,
which is, that it can work only in harmony with the

22

moral nature. No man can expect to be aided or
sustained l>\ God, when be is doing any thing which
he is conscious is no! well pleasing to him. Confi-
dence in God must implj a constant endeavor to
know his will, and must hence, quicken the con-
science, and. as the Scriptures express it, purify the
hi'. in. I have already spoken of the essential con-
nection between faith and love, and it is bj its inti-
m. ite alii, nice with conscience on the one hand, and
love on the other, that religious faith is capable of
becoming .1 principle of action so ennobling and
bo mighty. It is rational and intelligent as recog-
nizing, sometimes the plans of God, and always the
grounds of trust in Him; it quickens the conscience
as necessarily adopting the law of God lor its rule
of action ; and it gives lull play to the affections, by
drawing its \crv life from the holy and infinitely
ami able character of God. Thus, he who is actu-
ated b\ this principle must have the strength that
comes from the consciousness of acting rationally,
from peace with God, and peace of conscience.
Thus has it everj (lenient that can be needed to sus-
tain great and heroic action. Let a man feel that
he is in sympathy with God in the object of his pur-
suit, that God approves the means he adopts, and let
him have a filial confidence in him, and what deed
of a true heroism is there, whether of action or of
suffering, which lie maj not perform ? Thus moved
and sustained, is it any wonder that they of old
"subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained
promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the
violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out
of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in

23

fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens " ?
And what this principle was of old, it is now. The
same God is above us, and his response to any con-
fidence reposed in Him will not be less full. This
only can support the martyr, the moral hero, the
hero of meekness, and righteousness, and love uncon-
querable. This only can lead men to originate and
sustain those great moral enterprises, on the success
of which the welfare and progress of the world must
ultimately turn. It cannot be that man should set
himself fully against the wickedness of his own
heart, and the wickedness of the world around him,
and resist the allurements of temptation, and defy
the powers of nature wielded by persecution, and
endure to the end, and overcome, except as " seeing
him who is invisible." " This is the victory that
overcometh the world, even our faith." Only this
can enable the true missionary to forsake country
and friends, and devote his life, in a heathen land,
to the good of those whom he knows but as redeemed
by the blood of Christ ; only this can sustain him in
attacking forms of sin that seem as ancient and
firm as the hills ; this alone can enable him to labor
on till death, and die in hope, while yet the dark-
ness of midnight lies upon the mountains. Such
a faith has nothing to do with nature. She comes
down from above into the sphere of nature, she con-
templates objects of which nature knows nothing,
and when she acts rationally with reference to these
objects — to a kingdom and laws that are above na-
ture— nature says she is mad. She is not mad ; — the
might of the universe is with her ; God is with her ;
eternity shall vindicate her. This, not money, not

24

machinery, or confidence in them, but this it is that
the church needs. Let her come directly to God in
the strength of .1 perfect weakness, in the power of
a felt helplessness and a child-like confidence, and

then, either she has no strength, and lias no right to
be, 01 she has a strength thai is infinite. 'Then, and
thus, will she stretch out the rod over the seas of
difficulty that lie before her, and the waters shall di-
\ ill.-, and she Bhall pass through, and sing the song
of deliverance.

From the new of faith now taken, it is easy to
see tliit everj system of negations, and distrust,
,md skepticism, must tend to lower the tone of
human action and enjoyment, and must be uncon-
genial to our nature. Such s\stems may be useful
in pulling down error, hut have no constructive
power. Their effecl must he like that of with-
drawing tlic vital element from the air; and not
in n<- certainly will languor and feebleness creep
over tin' physical sxstein in one ease, than over the
spiritual in the other. There can be no robust and
healthj life, either social or spiritual, without a
strong faith.

Lit mr then fust counsel you, my friends, to
place a generous confidence in your fellow men.
Not that you should he weak, or credulous, but, if
you must en at ill. lei it he on the side of confi-
dence, lor \011r own >akrs repress the first risings
of .1 suspicious and distrustful temper. It will un-
string the nerves of your energy, and corrode your
very heart Far from you be that form of conceit
which attributes to itself shrew dness and wisdom by
always suspecting evil. Far sooner would I make it

25

a part of my philosophy and plan, to be imposed
upon and cheated, up to a certain point. Let not
even intercourse with the world, and the caution of
age, congeal the spring of your confidence and sym-
pathy. So doing, you may find much that you
would wish otherwise, some you may find that will
be as a briar, and sharper than a thorn-hedge, breth-
ren that will supplant, and neighbors that will walk
in slanders ; but you will also find answering confi-
dence, repose for the soul, green spots, and fountains
in the desert.

Let me also warn you especially against all those
pantheistic views, virtually atheistic, which are set-
ting in upon us in these days in connection with cer-
tain forms of a transcendental philosophy. The
great result, if not the object of all such schemes, is
to obscure and exclude the idea of personality in
God ; and hence, of accountability in man. It is
around this banner, more than any other, that the
migratory hordes of infidelity are gathering, and uni-
ting against the religion of the Bible. These
schemes assume the garb of a high philosophy ; they
put on the sheep's clothing of a religious phraseology.
In their outward aspect, they are contemplative,
reverent, and especially philanthropic. Their advo-
cates believe in God — but then all things are God,
and in the working of all things hitherto, nothing
higher than man has been produced. They believe
in inspiration — but then all good books are inspired.
They believe in Jesus Christ — and so they do in
Confucius, and Socrates, and Mohammed, and Lu-
ther, and in all earnest and heroic men. They be-

26

lieve in progress — but in a progress which neither
BpringS from, nor leads t<» mora] order. The\ make
the ideas of guilt and retribution a bugbear, redemp-
tion an absurdity, repentance unnecessary, and faith
impossible. Making Buch pretensions to philosophy,
and giving Buch license to passion, these schemes
have great attractions, and form the chief speculative
quicksands \\ bich the currents of this age have drifted
up, and on which the poung are in danger of being
wrecked. They merge personality into laws, the
operations of a wise agent into necessary uniformi-
ties. The} make the order and stability of God's
works testify, not to his wisdom and immutability,
but to his non-existence. They change the truth
which the creatures tlnis tell, into a lie, and say,
"No God.'" Thusare the heavens disrobed of their
glory, and infinite space becomes a blank, and faith
finds no object, and the tendrils of affection find no
oak, and human life is without a providence, and
conscience is a lie, and death is an eternal sleep.
To all such Bchemes, and their abettors, how appro-
priate and overwhelming are the reproof and the
argument framed expressly for them lon^ ago :
" Understand, ye brutish among the people ; and ye
fools, when will ye be wise .- j|r that planted the
.,11. shall he not hear; He that formed the eye,
shall he not Bee? He that chastiseth the heathen,
shall not he correct : !!«• that teacheth man knowl-
edge, shall not lie know ? "

And now. m\ beloved friends, in bringing to a
close mv relations to you as an Instructor, what can
I wish better for you personally, or for the world in
your relations to it, than that you should take for

27

your actuating and sustaining principle, faith in God.
Without this, you will lack the highest element of
happiness, and the only adequate ground of support ;
life will be without dignity, and death without hope.
Only by faith can you run that race wrhich is set
before you, as before those of old. In this world
your courses may be different ; you will choose dif-
ferent professions, and diverge widely in your lines
of life. To some of you, the race here may be
brief. One whom I addressed the last year, as I do
you to-day, now sleeps in death. But whatever
this may be, and whether longer or shorter, before
you all there is set the same race under the moral
government of God ; to you all is held out the same
prize. Why should you not run this race ? Never
was there a time, in the history of the world, when
moral heroes were more needed. The world waits
for such. The providence of God has commanded
science to labor and prepare the way for such. For
them she is laying her iron tracks, and stretching
her wires, and bridging the oceans. But where are
they ? Who shall breathe into our civil and political
relations the breath of a higher life ? Who shall
couch the eyes of a paganized science, and of a
pantheistic philosophy, that they may see God ?
Who shall consecrate, to the glory of God, the tri-
umphs of science ? Who shall bear the life-boat to
the stranded and perishing nations ? Who should
do these things, if not you — not in your relations to
time only, but to eternity, and to the universe of
God ?

And as seen in the light of faith, what a race !
what an arena ! what a prize !

28

Faith places us under the inspection and care of
the eternal and omnipresent ( iod, and accepts of him
as a Father, a Redeemer, a Sanctiher, and Portion.
She enthrones Him above all laws, and to that
utterance which she hears coming as the voice of
in,iii\ if aters from around the throne, saying, The
Lord God omnipotent reigneth, she says, Amen.
She introduces us to a spiritual family of our own
race, and of superior orders of beings, before whose
Bombers and capacities the imagination falters.
Sin- accepts the suggestions of analogy, that the
moral and spiritual universe is commensurate with
that physical universe which night reveals, the out-
skirt^ of which no telescope can reach ; and for the
unfolding and sweep of a government embracing
such an extent, she has an eternit\. Such is the
scene in the midst <>l which this race is to be run.
What is the prize ? It is likeness to God — sonship
— the inheritance of all things to be enjoyed forever.
That such a prize might he offered, Christ died ;
th.it it may !><• striven tor. as the one thing needful,
the Holy Spirit pleads. Gird yourselves, then, for
this race; run it with patience, "looking unto
Jesus.'3 The world may not notice, or know you;
for it knew Him not. It mu\ persecute you, for it
persecuted Him; but in the Lord Jehovah is ever-
lasting strength. He will be with you; He will
sustain you : — the great cloud of witnesses will en-
compasa you : they will wait to hail you with accla-
mation .is you skill reach the goal, and receive the
prize. That goal max you all reach,— that prize
may you all receive.

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