Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

knowledge. We believe that, of all the events and actions, which take place in the universe of worlds, and the eternal succession of ages, there is not one, not the minutest, which God did not for ever foresee, with all the distinctness of immediate vision. It is a sublime truth. But it is a truth, which, the moment we undertake to analyze and apply, we are confounded in ignorance, and lost in wonder. We believe, but we would take care that we do not presumptuously believe. We believe in election, not in selection. We believe in foreknowledge, not in fate. We believe in the boundless wisdom of God, but not less in the weakness of our own comprehension. We believe that his thoughts are not as our thoughts, and that his ways are not as our ways, and his counsels are not as our counsels, and his decrees are not as our decrees. For as the heavens are high above the earth, so is he above the reach of our frail and finite understanding.

VI. In the sixth place, we believe in a future state of rewards and punishments. We believe that sin must ever produce misery, and that holiness must ever produce happiness. We believe that there is good for the good, and evil for the evil; and that these are to be dispensed exactly in proportion to the degree in which the good or evil qualities prevail.

The language of Scripture, and all the language of Scripture on this solemn subject, we have no hesitation about using, in the sense in which it was originally meant to be understood. But there has been that attempt to give definiteness to the indefinite language of the Bible on this subject, to measure the precise extent of those words which spread the vastness of the unknown futurity before us; and with this system of artificial criticism, the popular ignorance of Oriental figures and metaphors has so combined to fix a specific meaning on the phraseology in question, that it is difficult to use it without constant explanation. "Life everlasting," and "everlasting fire;" the mansions of rest, and the worm that never dieth; are phrases fraught with a just and reasonable, but, at the same time, vast and indefinite import. They are too obviously figurative to permit us to found definite and literal statements upon them. And it is especially true of those figures and phrases that are used to describe future misery, that there is not one which is not also used in the Bible to describe things earthly, limited, and temporary. So confident in their opinions are men made by education and the current belief, that they can scarcely think it possible that the words of Scripture should have any other meaning than that which they assign And they are ready, and actually feel as if they had a right, to ask those who differ from them to give up the Bible altogether. Nay, they go so far sometimes, as to aver, in the honesty and blindness of their prejudices, that their opponents have given up the Bible, and have given up all thoughts of trying the questions at issue by that standard. We have an equal right certainly to return the exhortation and to retort the charge. At any rate, we can accept neither. We believe in the Scriptures, as heartily as any others, and, as we think, more justly. We believe in all that they teach on this subject, and in all they teach on any subject.

We believe, then, in a heaven and a hell. We believe that there is more to be feared hereafter than any man ever feared, and more to be hoped than any man ever hoped. We believe that heaven is more

glorious, and that hell is more dreadful, than any man ever conceived. We believe that the consequences both in this world and another,that the consequences to every man, of any evil habits he forms, whether of feeling or action, run far beyond his most fearful anticipa tions. Are mankind yet so gross in their conceptions, that outward images convey the most transporting ideas they have of happiness, and the most tremendous ideas they have of misery? Is a celestial city all that they understand by heaven? Let them know that there is a heaven of the mind, a heaven of tried and confirmed virtue, a heaven of holy contemplation, so rapturous, that all ideas of place are transcended, are almost forgotten in its ecstasy. Is a world of elemental fires and bodily torments, all that they understand by hell? Let them consider, that a hell of the mind, the hell of an inwardly gnawing and burning conscience, the hell of remorse and mental agony, may be more horrible than fire, and brimstone, and the blackness of darkness for ever! Yes, the crushing mountains, the folding darkness, the consuming fire might be welcomed, if they could bury, or hide, or sear the guilty and agonized passions, which, while they live, must for ever and for ever burn, and blacken, and blast the soul,-which, while they live, must for ever and for ever crush it down to untold and unutterable misery. VII. Once more, and finally; we believe in the supreme and allabsorbing importance of religion.

There is nothing more astonishing to us, than the freedom of language which we sometimes hear used, on this subject; the bold and confident tone with which it is said that there is no religion among us, nothing but flimsy and fine sentiment, passing under the name of religion. We are ready to ask, what is religion in the hearts of men, what are its sources and fountains, when they can so easily deny it to the hearts of others? We are inclined to use no severity of retort, on this affecting theme; else the observation of life might furnish us with some trying questions for the uncharitable to consider. But we will only express the simple astonishment we feel at such treatment. We will only say again, and say it more in wonder than in anger-what must religion be in others, what can be its kindness, and tenderness, and peace, and preciousness, when they are so ready to rise up from its blessed affections, to the denial of its existence in the hearts of their brethren?

We repeat, then, that we believe in the supreme and all-absorbing importance of religion. "What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" is to us the most undeniable of all arguments; "What shall I do to be saved?" the most reasonable and momentous of all questions; "God be merciful to me, a sinner!" the most affecting of all prayers. The soul's concern is the great concern. The interests of experimental, vital, practical religion are the great interests of our being. No language can be too strong, -no language can be strong enough, to give them due expression. No anxiety is too deep, no care too heedful, no effort too earnest, no prayer too impor tunate, to be bestowed upon this almost infinite concern of the soul's purification, piety, virtue, and welfare. No labour of life should be undertaken, no journey pursued, no business transacted, no pleasure enjoyed, no activity employed, no rest indulged in, without ultimate reference to that great end of our being. Without it, life has no sufficient object, and death has no hope, and eternity no promise.

What more shall we say? Look at it,-look at this inward being, and say—what is it? Formed by the Almighty hand, and therefore formed for some purpose; built up in its proportions, fashioned in every part, by infinite skill; an emanation, breathed from the spirit of God,— say, what is it? Its nature, its necessity, its design, its destiny,-what is it? So formed it is, so builded, so fashioned, so exactly balanced, and so exquisitely touched in every part, that sin introduced into it, is the direst misery; that every unholy thought falls upon it as a drop of poison; that every guilty desire, breathing upon every delicate part and fibre of the soul, is the plague-spot of evil, the blight of death. Made, then, is it for virtue, not for sin,-oh! not for sin, for that is death; but made for virtue, for purity, as its end, its rest, its bliss; made thus by God Almighty.

Thou canst not alter it. Go, and bid the mountain walls sink down to the level of the valleys; go and stand upon the sea shore and turn back its swelling waves; or stretch forth thy hand, and hold the stars in their courses; but not more vain shall be thy power to change them, than it is to change one of the laws of thy nature. Then thou must be tirtuous. As true it is, as if the whole universe spoke in one voice, thou must be virtuous. If thou art a sinner, thou "must be born again." If thou art tempted, thou must resist. If thou hast guilty passions, thou must deny them. If thou art a bad man, thou must be a good man. There is the law. It is not our law; it is not our voice that speaks. It is the law of God Almighty; it is the voice of God that speaks,speaks through every nerve and fibre, through every power and element of that moral constitution which he has given. It is the voice, not of an arbitrary will, nor of some stern and impracticable law, that is now abrogated. For the grace of God, that hath appeared to all men, teaches, that, denying all ungodliness and every worldly lust, they must live soberly, and righteously, and godly in this present evil world. So let us live; and then this life, with all its momentous scenes, its moving experiences, and its precious interests, shall be but the beginning of the wonders, and glories, and joys of our existence. So let us live; and let us think this, that to live thus, is the great, urgent, instant, unutterable, all-absorbing concern of our life and of our being.

ON THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF;

WITH INFERENCES CONCERNING DOUBT, DECISION, CONFIDENCE, AND THE TRIAL OF FAITH.

1 Cor. xiii. 12: "Now I know in part."

It is of some importance-I think it is of no little importance-that we should entertain just ideas of the nature of religious belief. To this subject, therefore, and especially with a view to consider some difficulties and to meet some practical questions, I wish, at present, to invite your attention.

In the first place, then, it may be observed in general, that religious belief is essentially of the same nature as moral belief. In form, they differ, but in substance, they are the same. The common distinction between Religion and Morals, as totally different things, is as erroneous in principle as it is injurious in its effects. Both have their root in the same great original sense of rectitude, which God has impressed on our nature; and without which we should not be men. By religion, we mean our duty to God; and by morals, our duty to men: and both are bound upon us by the same essential reason that they are right. Or they are respectively, the love of God and the love of men; and both, in their highest character, are a love of the same goodness. Piety and philanthropy are essentially of the same nature. The Bible appeals to both alike, and it does not sever, but it binds them together; summing up all its commandments in these two-" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbour as thyself:" and saying emphatically," He that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how doth he love God whom he hath not seen!"

Further; as the original grounds of conviction, so the steps by which we arrive at our conclusions in both of these spheres of duty, are essentially the same. The steps are steps of reasoning. The Bible teaches morals and religion alike, and teaches them in the same way; and we arrive at its meaning in both, by the same means-viz. by that process of reasoning, called criticism. There is not one kind of criticism to be applied to those texts which teach the love of God, and another to those which teach the love of man; there is the same process of reasoning in both cases. And so in Natural Theology and Moral Philosophy, alike, we begin with certain original truths in the mind, and proceed to deduce certain duties; and in both cases, the process of reasoning is, in kind, the same.

But now the material question, and that to which I have been endeavouring to bring you, is this: what kind of reasoning is it? And the answer is plain; it is that kind of reasoning which is usually called moral reasoning. It is commonly defined, simply by being distinguished

from mathematical reasoning. That is to say, it is not like a mathematical deduction, infallible; it is not attended with a feeling of certainty, but only of belief.

But still we must distinguish; for is is important to observe that the difference of which we speak relates only to deductions—not at all to principles. The original principles of religion and morals are certain. They are as certain as any other principles; as certain as the principles on which mathematical science is founded. They are not matters of belief at all, but matters of absolute knowledge. Though not in religious belief, accurately speaking, yet in religion, there are absolute certainties. I am as sure that I have a conscience and a religious nature, I am as sure again, that benevolence and other moral qualities are right, and I am as sure that my nature is constituted to approve and love them, wherever they appear-in man or in God-as I am of my own existence and identity, or as I am that my nature is constituted to assent to the truth of any mathematical axioms. It is important to say this, because the distinction commonly made between mathematical and moral reasonings, may be carelessly extended, so as to cover more ground than belongs to it. For the basis of the mathematics is not more certain and irrefragable, than the basis of morals.

But the moment we take one step from that basis, from those first principles, and enter upon deductions, it is agreed by all reasoners, that a marked and essential difference obtains. In the mathematics, every step of the deduction is as certain as the principle from which it started. In moral reasonings, it is not so. The ideas, involved in these reasonings, are not so definite, the terms not so clear, and the result is, by no means, so unerring. The steps of moral deduction, of philological criticism, are not steps of demonstration. But these are the steps that lead to religious belief-that conduct to a creed. A creed is not a certainty, but a belief. Put any certainty into a creed, and the absurdity would at once be felt. No one could gravely stand up and say, "I believe in my own existence; I believe in my identity; I believe that I ought to be a good man." These are matters of certainty; but the propositions of a creed are matters of logical inference. The seal upon it is not absolute consciousness, but religious conviction. The scale on which that conviction is marked, is the scale of probability. I use this term, probability, I ought to say, in the technical sense which moral reasoners assign to it, which is stronger, and more definite than the popular sense. I use it as simply opposed to certainty. On the scale of probability, or of moral reasoning, in other words, belief often rises, no doubt, almost to certainty. But it never, strictly speaking, arrives at that point. It is never absolute certainty; it is never perfect knowledge. For "we know in part," says the Apostle. From these views, I am not aware that any intelligent, moral, or religious reasoners dissent. The distinction is familiar in all the standard writers, and may be considered as the settled judgment of all who are competent to form an opinion on the subject. Moral evidence is not demonstration. Belief is not knowledge. Believing a thing to be true, is not knowing it to be true.

Not to dwell longer, then, upon a point so plain, and so universally conceded, my further purpose is to offer some remarks upon this admitted nature of religious belief.

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »