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The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 5

On Maurice's Theological Essays

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On Maurice's Theological Essays,

I Propose to myself the task of giving you some idea of the contents of this book, and of their bearing upon questions which are most deeply interesting to men individually, and to society—questions involving the present power and ultimate issues of the Gospel of Christ. This is my single and exclusive object. I do not pretend to have mastered the other writings of this author; and I shall probably make little use even of such knowledge of them as I happen to possess. Neither do I venture to discuss the influences and tendencies which this book may be regarded as representing or advancing. I make no attempt towards a bird's-eye view of the literature and theology of the age. I intend to deal with this one work. And I am inclined to think, that if I shall succeed in dealing with it as I would wish to do, I may render more service to the cause of truth, than if I were to inquire and speculate and form a theory to account for its appearance, or to anticipate its effects. Doubtless, its appearance is a phenomenon which may turn out to be a great fact, significant of many antecedents, pregnant with many consequences. But I do not enter upon any vague and wide inquiry regarding its probable origin and possible result I take the product as I find it. And I mean to try if English minds, so far as I have access to them, cannot estimate page 4 its practical value, apart from all personal regard for its author;—and apart also from all abstract and mystical philosophising about its relation to the present conditions of human knowledge, or to the progressive development of human thought and feeling.

To give some unity to my remarks, which must necessarily be miscellaneous if they are to touch the varied topics of the book, I may he allowed to indicate, at the outset, what seems to me the real matter at issue, the vital and essential question raised. It is this,—Does God deal judicially with his intelligent creatures? Does he try and judge, to the effect of acquitting or condemning, the persons of men—you, my brother, personally, and me? I may, perhaps, best raise the question, if I advert to a letter from Mr. Maurice to a private friend, published at Mr. Maurice's request by Dr. Jelf, in his pamphlet stating the grounds for his procedure against Mr. Maurice before the Council of King's College, London. I had not my attention called to that letter until 1 had completed my analysis of the Essays. But it seems to me to furnish a key to the Essays, which, on many accounts, is to be regarded as important. The letter was written in November 1849, several years before the Essays were published; but the theory developed in the Essays is contained in the Letter, and the process of thought and feeling through which the theory was constructed, is in a very interesting manner laid open. Let it be observed, that the Letter is written in reply to a question regarding the duration of future punishment. The Essays are written with a view to persuade Unitarians, and especially those of the recent and more spiritual school, that, instead of repudiating, they ought to welcome the Anglican Creed and Articles, as the real expression of that life which they are panting for, and their best defence against counterfeits and exaggerations. It is evident, indeed, that the Letter is the page 5 germ of the Essays. The author deems it a point of honour to produce it in that character, in so far as the doctrine of a future state is concerned. No injustice, therefore, is done by making a notice of the Letter an introduction to the consideration of the Essays. This is the rather desirable, because in she Letter, as has been said, he means "to tell his correspondent something of the processes of thought through which he had himself passed while endeavouring to arrive at the truth" (p. 3).

1. "I was brought up," he tells his correspondent, "in the belief of universal restitution. I was taught that the idea of eternal punishment could not consist with the goodness and mercy of God" (p. 3). But he explains how, when "he came to think and feel for himself, the views he had learned respecting sin "did not seem to "accord with his experience of it, or with the facts which he saw in the world." He shrunk also from what shocked his intellect and conscience, as being "a feeble notion of the divine perfections, one which represented good-nature of the highest of Them." And he disliked the "distortions of the text of Scripture" frequently in use, such as making "eternal" signify different things when applied to punishment and to life respectively.

Thus three strong cords drew him out of the pit of old vulgar Universalism: a sense of sin; an apprehension of the divine perfections; reverence of the Scripture. Sin, in himself and in the world around him, was not to be made light of; the perfections of God were not to be resolved into mere good-nature; Scripture was not to be set aside, or twisted so as to mean anything or nothing. These were not, he acknowledges, "very deep, vital convictions." But "they were honest opinions as far as they went." And they made hint "despise the Universalist and Unitarian theories as weak." "I do not know," he adds, "that I found any- page 6 thing at all better "(p. 4). He passes at once, accordingly, to the reconstruction of his own belief, de novo; which was, it would seem, a work or process altogether personal to himself: "I can say, I did not receive this of man, neither was I taught it" (p. 5). Of course, no one is necessarily the worse for having to elaborate his own views and impressions of divine truth for himself, under the guidance of the v Spirit of God, out of the materials furnished by the Word of God, and by his own consciousness and experience. And if, upon his emancipation from the lowest depths of Universalist latitudinarianism, the inquirer had gone on in earnest to follow out the three lines of thought which had been the means of his rescue,—sin, within and without,—the perfections of God,—the authority of Scripture;—keeping all the three distinct and parallel;—he would have been in the right way. There might have been as "great confusion and darkness" as that through which, he says, he got "every glimpse" of what has ultimately satisfied and settled his mind; perhaps more, a great deal more. But the subject,—man, the sinner; the object,—God, the all-perfect; the medium,—a real and actual communication from God to man, precisely such as one man makes to another;—these three primary facts;—the sin of man, the perfection of God, the word of God to man;—accepted as first principles, and drawn forth in humble, loving reverence of soul to their proper issues;—must have led to a theology, with far more in it of the element of a real transaction between us and our Maker than the author is prepared to admit.

2. The origin of his positive faith, following upon the destruction of the coldly negative belief in which he was brought up, is described by him thus:—"When I began in earnest to seek God for myself, the feeling that I needed a deliverer from an overwhelming weight of selfishness was the predominant one in my mind. Then I found it more page 7 and more impossible to trust in any being who did not hate selfishness, and who did not desire to raise his creatures out of it. Such a Being was altogether different from the mere image of good-nature I had seen among Universalists. He was also very different from the mere Sovereign whom I heard of amongst Calvinists, and who it seemed to me was worshipped by a great portion of the religious world But I thought he was just that Being who was exhibited in the cross of Jesus Christ. If I might believe his words, 'He that hath seen me hath seen the Father;' if in his death the whole wisdom and power of God did shine forth, there was one to whom I might fly from the demon of self, there was one who could break bonds asunder. This was and is the ground of my faith" (p. 4).

It will be observed, that in the author's transition state, the only two ideas of the Supreme Being present to his mind were,—that of the Universalists, who bow before a mere image of good-nature—and that of the Calvinists, and a great portion of the religious world, who, as he represents the matter, worship a mere Sovereign. Further, it will be observed that the predominant feeling in his mind respecting himself was, that he needed to be delivered from an overwhelming weight of selfishness. And, finally, since he cannot trust in any being who does not hate selfishness and desire to raise his creatures out of it, he welcomes the Being who is exhibited in the cross of Jesus Christ—especially believing his words, "He that hath seen me bath seen the Father." as one to whom he may fly from the demon of self, who can break his bonds asunder. There is truth in all these experiences. An earnest man cannot reverence either a mere image of good-nature, or a mere sovereign. He is crushed under the weight of selfishness, bound by the demon of self. But, in the first place, is there no conception of God, but either Infinite Good-nature or page 8 Infinite Sovereignty, that haunts an awakened conscience? Is there no sense of a holy eye reading me through and through,—of the righteous arm of a Lawgiver and Judge holding me fast? Then, secondly, when my broken heart smites me for my selfishness,—my miserable selfishness, that will not spare Bathsheba in its lust, nor Uriah in its meanness,—my deplorable selfishness, that makes my very worship of God and my kindness to my fellows nothing else than disguised self-seeking,—I cannot feel that I have got to the root of the evil, until I hear the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and calling me out of my hiding-place among the trees of the garden. When,—feeling that he is reckoning with me for my disobedience, and feeling also instinctively that it is not in mere wrath,—I have the effrontery to say, She, thy gift, led me to sin; and when,—not smitten down for my monstrous ingratitude and heart-lessness, I see him still waiting to be gracious;—that makes me know my selfishness. And now, thirdly, the Being whom I must have to deliver me—whom I cannot do without—is that same Being,—holy, righteous, wailing to be gracious,—who must reckon with me for my sin.—whom I would have to reckon with me for my sin,—whom T could not love or trust if he did not reckon with me, in most rigorous justice, for my sin;—who, pointing to the Son of his love, tells me that he beareth my sin in his own body on the cross, and slays the enmity thereby.

I have thought it fair to take the author's own account of the origin and rise of his theology as he gives it in this Letter, instead of forming a theory on the subject out of the Essays; although I may say that the theory which I was inclined to form, to account for the Essays, before I carefully read the Letter, was very much the same as the explanation which I have been considering. And before passing on, I desire, to fix one thought in your minds.

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It is always important to know the starting-point of one who proposes for our acceptance a theology, or a view of divine truth, avowedly—and if not exclusively, at least most intimately, based upon and hound up with his own experience. This is necessary if we would do justice, either to him or to ourselves. It is not, of course, so necessary when a man professes simply to illustrate an old and well-defined system, to place its relative parts in fresh and original lights, and bring out its harmony with the facts of his own life and consciousness, or of man's life and consciousness generally. Even in such a case it may be useful and interesting. But when one comes to us with a new system, and still more, when he comes to us with a systematic repudiation of system,—to give us his own reading of divinity and humanity, as if he were surveying a hitherto unmapped continent,—then it becomes a matter of the highest importance to ascertain, if possible, his point of view from the outset; that we may fairly estimate the probable effect of his speculations on himself, as well as the influence which they ought to exert over us. For instance, take Sleiermacher in Germany. Those who know-his history and writings better than I do, tell us that to the last his Moravian training and deep Moravian piety continued to steep his whole nature in an intensely spiritual warmth, and leaven his compositions with an energetic, spiritual life. Hence it might happen that opinions and tendencies might be comparatively harmless in his mind,—nay, might be so blended with his old Moravianism as to be not only neutralised, but, as if by some chemical affinity, absorbed,—which, nevertheless, when transferred to minds otherwise constituted and otherwise trained, might become the germs of the coldest Rationalism. Or take our own Coleridge. He began at the very opposite extreme from the German thinker; and was led on in a path which, probably, none page 10 else ever trod,—through almost unparalleled conflicts and exercises of soul,—to such a profound insight into the guilt and misery of sin, and the glorious mystery of the divine government and nature, as must have been eminently blessed to himself, and must ever furnish materials of most interesting study to all inquiring students, whether of man's nature or of God's. But the height which a man may reach as he toils his perilous way from the lowest depth up the steep and rough ascent, though most profitable for himself, may be unsafe for one whose position, given to him, is higher still. I may thus be tempted,—with neither heart so ardent to aspire nor foot so firm to persevere,—to meet the adventurous pilgrim where he is—not resting, but cut off in the very heart of his struggling upward. And 1 may make it a matter of silly boasting that 1 can stand at ease where such a one as Coleridge, still pressing on, fell. Equally unsafe may it be for me,—alas! with but little of Moravian devotion, and, it may be, too little also of Moravian discipline,—to think that I occupy ground high enough, when I am on the level of that subtle idealistic philosophy, which one wont to soar aloft on eagle's wings into the atmosphere around the throne, and bound by cords of love inseparable to Him who sits upon the throne, might, if not without peril, yet almost with impunity, make his scientific, because it was not his spiritual, standing-point. These remarks apply in some measure to Mr. Maurice; with one qualification, however, which is noted here, not invidiously, but as a necessary caution: that whereas he begins at a level far nearer that at which Coleridge began than that at which Slciermacher began,—the level of low Universalim, not high Moravianism,—he does not appear to have pushed his inquiries so far as Coleridge did, into man's sinful nature and the Almighty's moral government. In particular, in his very first statement of the experience which originated his theology, as well as page 11 throughout the whole of his subsequent exposition of his theology, there is an entire omission of the fact of guilt, as a real fact in our history, and a fact with which a righteous God must deal.

I may return again to the Letter. But it may be proper, before proceeding further, to submit an outline of what these Essays teach. Tins 1 scruple not to do in my own words, briefly but boldly, being prepared to verify what J say in full detail.

1. Love, absolute and unconditional, is the whole nature of God. This love is not mere facile and Imbecile goodwill. It is compatible with indignation, anger, wrath: it implies wrath. "Wrath against that which is unlovely," is an essential attribute of it. The will of God, strong against the unlovely, seeks to subdue and assimilate all other wills to his own nature, which is love. Thus God is love.

2. Sin is something different and distinct from crime to be checked by outward penalties, or habit to be extirpated by moral influences. The first of these is the legislative idea of sin; the second, the ethical. Both are set aside; and instead of them there is substituted what may be called the exclusively personal idea of sin. An unloving, an unlovely creature, finds himself, at some awful moment, alone with the great Being whose very nature is love—whose name is Father. An intense feeling of his being in a wrong state, himself the doer of wrong, himself the thinker of wrong, himself displeasing to his Father, and not right with his Father, seizes him. It is not a sense of his having transgressed a law and being justly liable to punishment. It is not a sense of his being under the power of an evil habit, needing to be eradicated. It is the discovery that he is not what he now sees that his Father is, and what he now is intimately conscious that his Father would have him to be.

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Thus the case is stated: the question is raised. We have the nature and will of God on the one hand, and the sin of man, in a certain view of it, on the other. How the case is to be met, how the question is to be solved, is next to be considered. For this end.—

3. The actual position of man is brought out in two lights, He finds himself in the presence,—not merely of external circumstances fitted to exert evil influences, with, perhaps, an inward susceptibility of receiving these influences,—but of an Evil Spirit, He has to contend with a personal enemy—the Spirit of selfishness. And self being the plague of man, the Spirit of selfishness tyrannises over him, and must be overcome. But, on the other hand, man—and here Job is taken as the type—conscious of a righteousness deeper than his sin, and more entirely his own, although sin seems almost as if it were himself;—claiming also a sort of indefeasible right to be delivered from evil;—has the explanation of this contradictory experience in the presence of a living Redeemer, who is with him, in him, the root of his being. This is Christ in every man.

4. The person and work of Christ are the subjects next in order; his person as the Incarnate Son; his work in the Atonement. On the subject of Christ's person, there are two Essays. In the first Essay, his divinity as the Son of God is asserted. It is asserted, however, chiefly to the effect of explaining, by means of it, the entire process of man's emancipation and deliverance. The Redeemer, who is with man and in man, as the root of his being, is discovered to be a Son, an actual Son of God, a strong Son of God. Owning him in that character as his Lord, man is free. The Incarnation, accordingly, of which the second of the two Essays treats, is not a step towards the effecting of man's deliverance. It is such a manifestation of the divine perfection and the divine will, in human nature, as mankind page 13 have ever been desiderating; and such a combination and representation of all manhood's various properties as makes all men one. The value of it is, that it reveals God, and unites men. It is not, however, so far as I can judge, essential to man's redemption. It is rather the full and complete exhibition of it. Men are still exhorted to recognise and own the Christ within,—the Redeemer in them—the root of their being—the strong Son of God. For anything I can see, the Redemption is really independent of the Incarnation. But, in fact, there is really no Redemption at all, in any fair sense of that term (Essays, p. 117, &c.).

This appears plainly when the work of Christ is discussed; especially in the Essay on the Atonement. There Christ is represented as giving up self-will—that self-will which is the root of all evil in man. He is also said to suffer the wrath of God. But how? Dwelling among men, he was content to endure all the effects and manifestations of that wrath against the unlovely, which is the essential attribute of love; and would not have that wrath quenched till it had effected its full loving purpose. His sacrifice is the giving up of self-will. His endurance of punishment is his perfect willingness that the loving God's wrath against the unlovely should continue to work on among men, until all unloveliness disappears; and that he, becoming one of them, should not be specially exempt. The idea of his expiating guilt by making himself a true and proper sacrifice of atonement, is in not very temperate language denounced; and, in fact, neither the obedience which he renders, nor the cross which he bears, is, in any sense whatever, the procuring cause of man's redemption (Essays, p. 141, &c.).

Heve I might almost close my summary. The essence of what this book teaches is in the statements which I have laid before you. The remainder of the book, though the larger portion of it, is little more than the drawing out of page 14 legitimate and necessary consequences. I must trace these, however, as vapidly as I can. And while I do so, I ask you to bear in mind two conclusions as to the author's teaching, which I think you will agree with me are fully established. The one respects the condition of man. The other respects the mind and will of God, as his manner of dealing with men is affected by the Incarnation and Atonement of Christ.

1. The condition of man is not the condition of a fallen being. T am not guilty and under condemnation. I am not depraved, having a nature radically corrupt—a heart alienated from God. I am apt to be selfish; I am selfish; self is my plague. And being thus unlovely, i cannot but be miserable in the presence of the God of love. 1 have an oppressor, also—a tyrant; the Evil Spirit of selfishness, whose yoke I ought to shake off, but cannot. I have, however, with me, in me, waiting only to be owned, a Redeemer, a Redeemer living: a strong Son of God—one with that God of love who is my Father, as he is intimately one with me, the very root of my being. I see him becoming a man, the same as I am, and as all men are. As a num, he sacrifices self-will, and consents to endure what I and all men have to endure—the punishment which the wrath of the God of love against the unlovely inflicts on the children of men, until its full loving purpose is effected. I find in him a representative man, as well as a strong Son of God. But alas! I find in him no substitute—no vicarious Lamb of God.

2. The will of God is not only not changed by the Atonement—which of course is an impossibility—but it does not find in the Atonement any reason for a different mode of dealing with man from that which, irrespectively of the Atonement, might have been adopted as right and fitting. The wrath of God is not turned away from any: it is not quenched. But, what! some one says: would you really page 15 have it quenched? That wrath against the unlovely, which is the essential attribute of all love worthy of the name,—would you have it quenched in the bosom of Him who is love, so long as anything unlovely anywhere or in any one remains? No. But the object against which the wrath burns is not merely an abstraction; it is a living person—myself, for example. And that wrath is not merely indignant or sorrowful dislike of what is unlovely in me on the part of a Father whose nature is love;—but holy displeasure and righteous disapprobation on the part of One who, however he may be disposed to feel and act towards me as a Father, is at all events my Ruler and my Judge;—whose law I have broken and by whom I am condemned. There is room here 'for his arranging that, through the gracious interposition of his own Son, meeting on my behalf the inviolable claims of justice, his wrath should be turned away from me;—and if from me, from others also, willing to acquiesce in the arrangement. If a moral government according to law is conceivable, such a procedure is conceivable under it.

Of course, even after such a procedure in our favour, He whose love we thus experience will have more cause than ever to be angry with us for whatever in us is unlovely. And he may deal with us in various ways for the removal of it. But still the Atonement will have effected a real and decided change in our position,—in our relation to God. There is, in consequence of the Atonement, and our acceptor anee of it, an actual removal from us of the wrath and the condemnation under which we personally were before. But take the doctrine of this book, and there neither is, nor can be, any change whatever effected in the position of any man by virtue of the Atonement. All that Christ's endurance of the wrath of God, in the author's sense of that doctrine, can possibly do, is to bring out more vividly than ever the intensity of the dislike which the God of love has of the un- page 16 lovely. This it does quite generally;—giving to all men an affecting proof that punishment must continue to be administered—that the wrath of the loving God cannot be quenched—till it has effected its loving purpose. This is all that it does. As to everything else, it leaves men where they would have been without it.

A momentous consequence follows. There is absolutely no security for any of the human race being ever beyond the reach of punishment; there is no security for the wrath of God ever being quenched in the case of any. Let me hold by the opinion, that the Atonement effects a real change in the position of those who submit to it; that it brings them out of the position of condemned criminals into the position of acquitted free-men, of adopted children—I can understand how, by a renovating process, and by a fatherly discipline continued here for a time, they are prepared for passing, ere long, into a world whence all that is unlovely is for ever excluded. But if I take up the author's view, I see nothing before any of us, even those of us who have owned a Son of God as freeing us from the yoke of the Evil Spirit,—those of us who have that knowledge of the Son which is eternal life,—except an indefinite prolongation of our present experience. For when, or how, are we over finally to get rid of that ugly plague of self, with which the unselfish and loving God cannot but be angry? I confess when this result, not of the author's representation of the Atonement merely, but of his whole teaching in these Essays, began to flash upon my mind, I read almost with a shudder one of the fifteen conclusions relative to a future state to which he comes, and which he recites as final, in the Letter already quoted. He says "he feels it his duty," among other things, "not to deny God a right, of using punishments at any time or anywhere for the reformation of his creatures" (p. 8). It was not the apparent questioning of God's right to punish for other ends page 17 that startled me. But is it really meant, I asked myself, that there is never to be a time when,—that there is nowhere a place where,—the creatures of God are to be beyond the teach of punishment; so reinstated in the favour of their Father, and so restored to his likeness, that there shall be no occasion any more in their case for that which indicates his wrath against the unlovely,—nor indeed any possibility of it? And calling to mind the complete system of these most systematic Essays,—for so they are, whatever the author may profess,—I could not but perceive that the very same views which hold out the prospect of ultimate deliverance from evil to all, absolutely preclude the certainty of complete deliverance for any.

This may be more intelligible to you if I ask you to follow me while I hastily sketch the substance of the remaining Essays.

It is not necessary to dwell on what the author says concerning the death and burial of Christ, his descent into hell, his resurrection and ascension, considered as parts of his mediatorial work,—his meritorious service and its reward. There is not much importance attached to them in that view. In fact, the chief anxiety of the author is to take all these events out of the category of what might be regarded as special and peculiar to Christ, and to make them part and parcel of our common human experience. The value of them to us is, that the Ruler and Lord of our spirits, the deepest root of our being—a Son of God, a Son of man—has tasted the death which we are to die, lain in the grave where our remains are to lie, visited whatever abyss of hideous vacancy might haunt the uneasy soul, proved the uninterrupted life of the entire man, and become invisible that he may he always, and especially in the Eucharist, really present with us. In such a discussion of these topics, much interesting sentiment could not but be expressed by page 18 such a writer. It must be observed, however, that there is not only no mention made of any offices to be executed by Christ in connexion with our redemption after his death, but everything of the sort is virtually excluded. There is nothing like a sacerdotal ministry carried on in heaven—nothing at all analogous to the ministry of the high priest within the veil, the presenting of the offered sacrifice, and the making of intercession in connexion with it. There is no exaltation to rule and authority for the following out of the ends of his sacrifice. His ascension from Mount Olivet would really seem to mean nothing more than his disappearance out of the sight of the disciples at Emmaus. One-would suppose him to be personally, in the body, as really on the earth, going in and out among us, as he was during the forty days that elapsed between his rising from the grave and his going up in the clouds to heaven. The use which is made of this idea for reconciling conflicting views of the Real Presence in the Eucharist is not a little ingenious;—although it may be doubted whether the Romanist will part with his actual eating of the body and blood of Christ in the wafer,—or the Protestant with his feeding on Christ by faith, in the Spirit and through the word,—for the notion of the Beloved of his soul being at his very side, while yet he may not sec his face, or hear his voice, or touch even the hem of his garment.

But the more practical point for consideration at present, is the view given of these events in our Lord's history, as bearing upon the condition and prospects of men. It may be convenient here to depart a little from what might be the natural order; and, indeed, this is rendered necessary by the circumstance, that what the author says of the Resurrection in the eighth Essay, is closely connected with his more formal exposition of the Judgment-day in the twelfth.

The first thing, therefore, to be observed is, that there is page 19 no general resurrection, and no final judgment. I do not argue these great topics here, nor do T go into the details of the author's reasoning. Of course he retains the words Resurrection and Judgment. But then he holds that every man's death is his resurrection. Death, according to him, is not the separation of soul and body; it is the entire man, soul and body together, rising out of the clay-cold form which we consign to the earth, not to be the seed and germ of a glorious body, but to be no more heard of for ever. Judgment, again, is not a trial,—a judicial process,—with a view to the pronouncing of final sentence, and the separating of men into two classes. It is merely an unveiling or uncovering, such as may be expected on our passing into a clearer light, disclosing and revealing to us, more and more, both God and ourselves.

Now see how this fits into what I pointed out as an inevitable conclusion from the author's doctrine of the Atonement. To all practical intents and purposes, the future state is to all alike absolutely nothing more than a continuation of the present. There is no day fixed,—nay, there is no prospect of a day,—when the most faithful followers of Christ shall be rewarded by their present chequered experience coming to an end; and a new era coining in, to introduce a new condition of life, with no more sorrow in ii, and no more sin. Death is not such an era, nor the Resurrection, nor the Judgment. Nay, for anything I can see, when I come to undergo, and that for countless ages, the searching and relentless illumination of all above, around, within me, which awaits me as I shuflle off this mortal coil, never to be mine again,—I may have before me even an intenser, and still ever intenser, struggle, with that unlovely selfishness which besets me now,—and a keener, far keener, sense of the wrath of my God against it! All me! is it page 20 really come to this? Is my probation never to be ended? Am I never to enter into the joy of my Lord?

Perhaps the author might taunt me, as apparently he taunts Dr. Jelf, with "wanting that kind of security for the bliss of heaven which we want for our earthly possessions;" adding the quiet irony, "No saint in heaven has that bliss in fee; he never wishes so to have it; he holds it by continual dependence on a righteous and loving Being." True. But, nevertheless, I long to hold it by the same kind of security by which my Saviour holds it: and what is more, my Saviour tells me that I shall.

And now, with the Incarnation and Atonement in the past, on the one hand;—and the Judgment on the other hand, in the future;—the intermediate position of man may be ascertained. Two topics occur here, Justification and Regeneration.

As to Justification, it is scarcely necessary to say, after the sketch already submitted, that it has nothing in it of the nature of a forensic or judicial act. If there be nothing judicial in the Atonement, and nothing judicial in the Judgment, manifestly there can be nothing judicial in Justification. If God, in the Atonement, reckons as a Judge with his Son, as standing in the room and stead of guilty criminals—if, in the Judgment, he reckons as a Judge with all men, calling them to account and passing sentence according to their works,—then there may be keeping and consistency in our teaching, that when God justifies, he summons the offender before him, and looking upon him as one by faith with his own righteous Son, acquits and accepts him accordingly. Such a view, however, though in strict accordance with the Lutheran and Pauline doctrine, is repugnant to the whole spirit of the theology of this book. According to that theology, Justification cannot denote the entrance,—the intro- page 21 duction,—of a man into a new state, or a new relationship to the Supreme Being. It can be nothing more than the vindication or recognition of a state or relationship previously existing. And so it is. The resurrection of Christ is the justification of himself as the Son of God. And it is also the justification of all men, as thereby declared and proved to be sons. It is so. ipso facto, apart from any assent or consent on our part at all. Now it is true that Luther, following his great master, Paul, does connect the resurrection of Christ very closely with the justification of all who believe in him. The resurrection of Christ is his justification. In raising him from the dead the Father justifies him,—acknowledges him, not only as his Son, but as his righteous servant, who by the knowledge of himself is to justify many. His resurrection is the evidence of his meritorious obedience and vicarious sacrifico being accepted on behalf of the guilty. He was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification. Still our justification, on the footing of his resurrection—and, as it were, in terms of it—is a new act. The pardoning mercy,—the free, justifying grace,—is here. But, personally and individually, every man for himself, we must come in, or be brought in. And as we stand before the righteous Judge—the loving Father,—ourselves guilty, but united by the Spirit through faith to Christ,—united to him as raised from the dead for his righteousness' sake,—we have acceptance in the Beloved.

With Justification, Regeneration is intimately associated. Upon any system this is true. The view taken of Justification must always materially affect the idea formed of Regeneration. In the Essays there is an exact correspondence of the one to the other. Justification manifests a previously existing relationship; Regeneration apprehends, or realises it. The notion of a change of nature is not admitted. It affords scope for what, upon another subject, might be relished as page 22 pleasant raillery, about a new nature being superadded 10 the old, and the like grotesque fancies. But the new birth, as implying a renovation of man's moral nature.—and especially as implying that there is implanted in the heart a new seed, or principle, of godliness,—is unequivocally disowned. The name is retained, and the conversation with Nicodemus in the third chapter of the Gospel by John is expounded. Hut how r The second part of the conversation,—which speaks of the love of God to the world, as manifested in the sending of his only-begotten Son,—is taken, not as the necessary supplement or complement of the first part, which speaks of the nature and necessity of the new birth,—but as the full expression of what it teaches. Doubtless the second portion of this discourse forms the supplement or complement of the first part. The mistake lies in confounding or mixing up the two. The closing revelation made by our Lord to Nicodemus may be a key,—it is the key,—to his preliminary expostulation. But, they must not be mixed up with one another. And the one must not be made the substitute for the other.

Keep the two parts distinct, and they wonderfully fit into one another. There is a work of the Spirit within me, giving my faculties of thought, feeling, conscience, and, above all, my will, an entirely new direction,—Godward, to use a good old word, and heavenward. There is presented to me by the same Spirit.—in Christ, in the Son of man lifted up,—a manifestation of the love of God, far beyond mere goodnature—far beyond mere absolute love, with its attribute of wrath against the unlovely,—the manifestation of a love meeting—the crisis of my guilt by the sacrifice of an only-begotten Son. They are separate; these two acts, or works. But they are simultaneous. Like the two gases under the electric spark, they meet. There is a flash of light:—and then a calm, pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, page 23 proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.—and making glad the city of God.

But if yon confound them,—or if you put the one for the oilier,—you really make void both of them. There is no real change in my nature within me, if there is no real change in my relation without me. If the Gospel is to tell me, not that I must and that I may become what I am not;—but only that I ought to know what I already am;—there can be no occasion for any radical renovation or revolution in my moral being. All that is needed is that I shall be informed and persuaded: not that I must be converted, created anew. It is the call to accept a privilege never possessed, never possible, before;—a privilege which, however precious in itself, brings me too near to God, and places me too deeply under obligation to God to be agreeable to my suspicious and jealous soul;—it is this, and this alone, which makes palpable the necessity of my being made "willing in the day of the Lord's power."

Hitherto, following the Essays, I have spoken of Theology, or the Gospel of Christ, in its bearing upon men generally, simply as men to be redeemed, justified, regenerated; or as being actually redeemed, justified, regenerated. But any one, even ordinarily acquainted with theological method, knows that there is another view to be taken of the Gospel. It is to be viewed as not merely meeting the wants of men, whether in the mass or individually, but as forming a society, based upon certain principles, and placed under certain rules. T refer, of course, to the doctrine of the Church, a topic far too wide for full consideration now; on which, however, I must at least indicate what 1 take to be the teaching of this book. There are three Essays bearing on this subject: those on Inspiration, on the Personality and Teaching of the Holy Spirit, and on the Unity of the Church. The connexion of the three appears to be this:—The Church page 24 is informed by the teaching of Inspiration; it is quickened by the indwelling of the Spirit; and so, it is one.

1. Inspiration falls to be discussed in this connexion, as God's method of informing the Church—his manner of imparting knowledge. In this view, the Essay on Inspiration ought to have had for its title not Inspiration, but Revelation. That is the real question raised in it; the question, I mean,—"Is there, or is there not, given to the Church, an authoritative Revelation of the mind and will of God?" That is the question to be settled.

Very much of what the author says about the inspiration of deep, earnest thinkers,—as well as also what he says about the inspiration of creative genius in poetry and art,—may be, admitted as true. Rapt sages, seers, singers, of every age and clime, have doubtless experienced, more or less consciously, the impulse and guidance of a power not their own; a power which we need not hesitate to identify, as Milton did, with the fire that kindled Isaiah's bosom and opened his burning lips. In the pencil that could make the canvas glow with nature's brightest radiance, or sink far back into nature's remotest shade, or start into nature's busiest and wildest life, or calmly rest in the peace of nature's beautiful and awful death;—in the chisel that could evoke out of cold marble, in living power and chastest purity, the ideals of nature's best and loveliest forms, till the dull matter all but speaks; need we scruple to recognise the traces of the same Spirit of God, the same wisdom of heart, with which the Lord filled the men who were to cut the stones and carve the work of the Tabernacle? By all means, let these and all other methods by which God may design to train his-creatures to the love of the pure, the beautiful, the sublime, the holy, be appreciated and improved. Very possibly there is ground for charging the religious world, and religious men, with timidity and inconsistency in their attitude towards page 25 Greek and Roman lore,—towards Greek and Roman poetry and art;—whether original, or revived and reproduced in modern efforts. There may have been too much vacillation between undue sensitiveness and scrupulosity on the one hand, and a tame acquiescence in usage on the other, under shelter of an unheeded protest. Certainly in these days the relation of Christianity to the products of science, taste, and genius, is a topic which cannot be evaded. And who so competent to deal with it as this author?—If only he would approach it with somewhat less of contempt for the not unnatural apprehensions and difficulties of serious minds:—and I must add also, with somewhat more of a knowledge of real human nature, among the average of the women of England, I dare to say, as well as of its boys and men (Essays, p. 278).

Still the question remains, Have we,—altogether distinct from these means by which God may partly train and teach those who make a wise use from them,—Have we, distinct from them in kind, a Revelation? Is the Bible an authoritative standard and rule of faith? Does God in the Bible make a communication to us,—exactly as one of us might make a communication to another,—by messengers sent at sundry times, and commissioned to speak in divers manners?

Nor are we here called to inquire into the nature of the inspiration granted to one who has to convey a direct message from God, as distinct from the divine help which a man may have in the use of the common materials of thought and speculation. We are not even called to inquire whether the inspiration of the Bible is plenary and verbal, or not. Let it be first settled that we have, in the Bible, a collection of actual messages and communications from God to us; and we may then consider upon what principles they are to be interpreted. But the Bible is not, in these Essays, accepted as a revelation, in the true and proper meaning of that word. page 26 It is indeed exalted to a high place, as being pre-eminently, and par excellence, the Book by means of which God discovers himself to us. It stands alone in that respect, and admits of no rival near its throne. Still the manner in which God discovers himself to us in the Bible, through the writings of prophets and apostles, is really not essentially different from the manner in which he discovers himself through the writings of other gifted men. The difference is a difference of measure or degree.

I may take the liberty of warning you whom I now address, against the attempt too often made to confound together these two questions of the Inspiration of Scripture, and its Divine authority. It is very easy to involve an inquirer in inextricable doubts as to the nature of the impulse or influence under which the authors of the Bible wrote; and as to the extent to which it has secured the infallible accuracy of their thoughts, statements, and words. By a kind of sleight of hand, he is thus made to believe that it is the fact or doctrine of the Bible being an authoritative Revelation of God's will which is thus embarrassed. No two things can be more distinct. Satisfy yourself upon the point of the Bible being a communication from God; given by him with authority. Then, and then only, are you prepared to ascertain, from the Bible itself, what its inspiration really is.

And I may warn you also to beware of another controversial artifice,—a discreditable artifice.—which this author ought to have disdained. It is a precious old Puritan and Evangelical doctrine, that the same Spirit who superintended the composition of the Bible, is given to the humble reader of the Bible, that he may understand, believe, and profit by it. Can it be a mere mistake and stupid blunder, which makes the author represent these two offices as inconsistent? Are they not manifestly conspiring, not conflicting works? An; they not most beautifully coincident?

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The author laments the cruelty to which the younger members of evangelical families are subjected (Essays, 340, 341). They are told that they cannot apprehend the truth and meaning of the Bible without a special inspiration of the Spirit in themselves, which as yet they have not. And then they are sent to satisfy themselves, by the study of a cumbrous external evidence, as to a complicated and incredible theory about the Bible being, down to its minutest jot and tittle, the handwriting of God, as directly and immediately as were the Ten Commandments on the tables of stone.

What amount of injudicious training there may be in evangelical, as in other families, I cannot tell. But how stands the fact, as to the doctrine actually held by our fathers;—as well as by us, who seek to teach it to our children? There, we say;—there is the Bible. The Holy Ghost was in the writing of it all through; he moved the holy men who spake in it; and he has left his own impress on every book, on every page of it. True, you cannot understand it without his teaching, He must himself give you understanding to understand the Scriptures, and open your hearts to receive them. The Father promises to give the Holy¡Spirit to you if you ask him. Search, then, the Scriptures, as writings which the Holy Spirit has prepared for you. Pray for the gift of the Holy Spirit to be with you, and in you. Search and pray in faith. You will not have long to wait. The bright glory of God shining forth everywhere, as the pervading characteristic of all the Bible, in all its parts; and your hearts in you being made willing unreservedly to accept and to do the will of God;—this glory of God in the Bible, and this owning of the will of God in your hearts,—these two meeting together:—you will know of a truth that the Bible is the Word of God, better and more surely than whole libraries of external evidences could teach you.

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I ask your pardon for what may look too much like preaching. It seemed the shortest way of meeting a misrepresentation, and giving an idea of the doctrine of the divine self-evidencing power of the Gospel, as bound up with the doctrine of the necessity of divine teaching to apprehend it. For further study of both, I send you to John Owen. It will be a sad day for our country's theology, if the massive thinking of the old Puritan Chancellor of Oxford shall ever be displaced by more modern methods of grappling with the errors of Socinianism and Infidelity!

2. To constitute the society which the Gospel is designed to form, not only is information by the teaching of Inspiration provided,—but quickening or life also, by the indwelling of the Spirit. And the issue is the one universal Church. Here let it suffice to say that, practically, as between Evangelical divines and these Essays, the issue lies within small compass. Is the Church a society, whether visible or not, or partly visible and partly not,—is it a society distinct from the world,—distinct from the general mass of mankind? Is the work of the Holy Spirit in foraning the Church a work of personal dealing with individual persons, one by one—with a view to separate them, by a process of conviction and conversion, from the world,—to change them from what they naturally are,—to make them a peculiar people? The separation may not be outward: there may be no leaving of old societies—no joining of any new one. But it may be not the less real on that account. The doctrine of the Essays would seem to be, that under the influence of a universal presence of the Holy Spirit, convincing the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment, juster views of moral evil of moral good, and of God's discrimination between the two, pervade society wherever Christianity prevails. Through the influence of that presence men are brought to know and feel, not what they need to be and may be, but page 29 what they already are—sons, justified, regenerate. And as this process, not of conversion, but, as it were, of self-recognition, goes on, the Church is in course of being formed. In short, the Church is the world acknowledging its position in Christ; it is mankind become alive to the apprehension and realisation of the actual and universal redemption of humanity.

You perceive how completely and symmetrically the different parts of the author's theology in this book hang together. Throughout, there is a careful and consistent disavowal of anything being really done by God. The whole resolves itself into mere discovery on the part of God; outward or inward discovery as regards us; or both; but still discovery alone.

This comes out very strikingly in what was the last Essay in the first edition of the book—the Essay on the Trinity in Unity. That great mystery the author rightly holds to be the crowning and culminating point in theology; the resting-place of the inquirer; the home, as it were, of spiritual sacrifice and prayer. In one view, indeed, the doctrine of the Trinity may fitly be the beginning as well as the end of a right theological method. It will naturally be so, if there are separate acts or offices to be ascribed to the several Persons of the Godhead, and if these are to be considered as laying the foundation of spiritual experience. In that case, we can scarcely dispense with a dogmatic and formal statement of this truth, at the commencement of any summary we mean to give of God's ways of dealing with men. Even then, however, it will always be interesting to rise again, at the conclusion, into the high contemplation of the essential nature of God; and the wondrous manner of his subsistence as Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. For thus the ultimate and united glory of whatever is accomplished by the Persons of the Trinity, considered apart from one page 30 another, may be ascribed to the one undivided Godhead, in whose infinite wisdom and love the whole plan had its origin and rise.

The theology of these Essays admits easily of the postponement of this doctrine of the Trinity to the close. In truth, according to that theology, the doctrine is really the result or product of a process of induction; opening up, one after another, the glorious Three in One. First, God is apprehended as being to us a Father. Next, it is felt that there must be one to be our champion—our deliverer from the Evil Spirit,—and that he must be the Son of that Father,—his Eternal Son. And then, there must be a Spirit, in whom the Father and the Son are one,—and who, proceeding from the Father and the Son, quickens men. As the Spirit of the Father, he quickens them to the confession that they are sons of God; and as the Spirit of the Son, to the confession that they are brethren. I shall not offer any remarks here on this exposition of the baptismal formula. I merely observe, in the first place, that the distinction of the Persons in the Trinity is chiefly viewed as a distinction of relationship; our belief in it being grounded on the original filial relationship in which we are supposed to stand, simply-as creatures, to God as our Father; a relationship for which., unless it be in some very vague and figurative sense, I find no warrant, either in reason, or in conscience, or in Scripture; and, secondly, that while no distinct offices or works are ascribed to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost-while there is no distribution among them of the parts of any real and actual transaction—it may in the long run be found not a little difficult to guard any such representation of the Trinity,—based upon an almost exclusively subjective foundation,—from lapsing into Sabellianism;—and so becoming a mere threefold exhibition or manifestation of the one Person, the Father.

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I come now to the concluding Essay, in which one would almost think that the author manifests some little irritation. He is like a man who has travelled a long road, with infinite pains, all the day; and who, as weary night closes, and he catches a glimpse of the hospitable mansion of rest, finds a heavy gate flung unceremoniously in his face, or a strong bar suddenly let fall across his path. But really he need not be so impatient. He might have foreseen this result, all the time. And, in fact, he has had an eye to it. His previous Essays have thoroughly demolished the ground on which,—I say not the doctrine of unending retribution,—but any doctrine of retribution at all, can stand.

Hence, I really am not very careful to join issue with him on the subject of this last Essay. My issue with him would be, or rather has already been, on a higher and wider theme; the nature and character of the moral government of God. I stand for the authority of God as Judge, in the plain English meaning of the word judge. I stand for the authority of his law, and its sanctions; apart from which I see no hope for earth, no security against heaven itself becoming as hell. A theology without law,—law in the condemnation,—law in the atonement,—law in the justification,—law in the judgment,—is to me like the universal return of chaos and old Night. But a few brief remarks may be allowed upon the Essay in question.

As to the word "eternal," of which the author makes so much in his correspondence with Dr. Jelf—as well as in the concluding Essay in the second edition of his book, manifestly arising out of that correspondence,—I confess myself to have been not a little puzzled at first to make out what the exact bearing of his somewhat subtle criticism was meant to be. I am inclined to think, however, that it is, after all, a mare's nest he has found. He will not hear of "eternal" signifying endless duration. Eternity is not page 32 endless time. It is something positive. I believe he is substantially right. But I suspect that when any person or thing comes to have associated with him, or with it, the attribute of eternity, it will be extremely difficult to make out that endless duration is not necessarily implied. I will try to explain my meaning in one or two brief propositions.

I. The words "eternal" and "eternity" do not denote merely negative ideas: they are not negations of time, but assertions or affirmations of what is independent of time. Infinity or immensity, in spite of the negative form of the word, is not a negation of limited extension, but the assertion or affirmation of what is independent of limited extension, as eternity is of limited duration. Time, or limited duration, is in eternity as limited extension is in immensity. But no multiplication of limited durations—no prolonging of time either way, will make eternity: as, in like manner, no multiplication of limited extensions will make immensity. Call them laws of thought or real existences, as you please; or say that by necessary laws of thought—by the unalterable constitution of our mental nature, they imply eternal and infinite being. At all events they are positive, absolute realities—not notions reached by merely adding together an indefinite number of limited durations and limited extensions, or by imagining the removal of the limits on either side.

II. Whatever the word eternal qualifies, it removes altogether out of the category or region of time. Whatever is thus qualified, although it exists in time, is not any longer subject to the conditions, or within the measures, of time. It does not grow, by progression or prolongation, from time on to eternity. It leaps, or is carried at a bound, clear out of time into eternity. When it is said, "He that believeth in the Son of God hath eternal life," the life which he has is still in time, for he who has it is in time. But the eternity page 33 of it is not merely a lengthening out of the time It may be called a quality, or it may be said to denote the quality of the life spoken of. More properly speaking, it indicates what we may venture to call the region sphere, or essential nature of that life, as belonging to the category of the absolute, the fixed;—and not to the category of the relative, the mutable. The eternal life, therefore, which man, believing in the Son of God, receives, or has, is a life as fixed and absolute, as remote from the vicissitudes and as much beyond the measures of time, as is the life of God.

III. This life is in the Son, and he is the eternal Son, eternally begotten. In his correspondence with Dr. Jelf, the author more than once refers to the use which he has been accustomed to make, in his public teaching, of idea of eternity, on which "his suggestions respecting punishment depend," as a conclusive argument against Arianism "In speaking of the doctrine of Arius, I have again and again explained to my pupils, that his errors arose from his mixing-time with relations which had nothing to do with time." (Grounds, &c. by Dr. Jelf, p. 19.) Again, speaking of Athanasius, he says: "He felt that Arius, in attributing notions derived from time to the only-begotten Son, was, in fact, bringing back the old divided Pagan worship." Athanasius "asserted the eternal generation of the Son, not as a dry dogma, but as a living principle, in which every child and peasant was interested—certainly not understanding eternal to mean endless." (Letter to Dr. Jelf, p. 9). The meaning would seem to be that, by calling the generation of the Son eternal, the relation implied in it was lifted above all notions derived from time;—and all inquiry as to the date of it consequently silenced.

IV. But whatever is the force and value of the word "eternal" when it qualifies the generation of the Son, as an argument against the Arians,—exactly the same is its force page 34 and value, when it qualifies the life which a man believing in the Son receives, as an argument against the very idea of a date, or an end, or a change. Let the author be consistent with himself. He meets Arms, who assigns a beginning to the existence of the Son, by means of the word "eternal." Of course I know he does not mean that the word "eternal," as applied to the Son, denotes, merely—without beginning. It does not meet the Arian heresy directly. But what I ask is, Does it meet that heresy really and bonâ fide? If so, it must be because when eternity is predicated of the Son, or of the generation of the Son,—whatever else is to be understood, or whatever more,—it must, at all events, by implication deny that there was or could be any commencement of the Sonship. And so, when eternal life is given, it is life possessed of a quality or character to which the limits and laws of time do not apply. But, nevertheless, or rather on that very account, the possibility of change or end is excluded.

V. Now, I challenge the same principle of interpretation precisely for the opposite expressions—eternal death, eternal punishment, eternal fire. Eternity has a Son for the Father. Eternity has a life for those to whom the Son gives life in the knowledge of himself. Eternity has a death, a punishment, a fire, for those whom the Judge shall condemn. And whatever that punishment or fire may be,—whatever stripes, whatever horror of destruction from the presence of the Lord,—there must attach to whatever of evil has the character or stamp of eternity affixed to it, in connexion with whatever persons may have it as their portion, the very same independence of the accidents of time—the very same exclusion of the possibility of change or end—which belongs to the Son as eternally begotten of the Father; and to the life which consists in the knowledge of the Son, and is, therefore, like the Son, eternal.

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The plain truth is this: it is the author himself who should be the object of his own metaphysical scorn It is the author himself who is for introducing the idea of time, with its changes, into the unbroken oneness of eternity. Grant that eternity is the very being of God. Then I hold, that whatever He marks out in his word as eternal, has in it the same quality of endurance with the being of God. And it will be very difficult to make Scripture say anything else than that the exercise of penal severity—the infliction of righteous retribution—has upon it this mark of God's own eternity.

But metaphysical subtleties, as well as minute and critical word-catching, may well be dispensed with, when so awful a theme is before us. They are especially out of place when they can serve no other purpose than that of clouding and obscuring what the author must know is the real point at issue.

On several accounts, I may be allowed to express my regret on account of the treatment which this book and its author have received. I have no right to sit in judgment on the proceedings of ecclesiastical or academic authorities in England, but I may form and express an opinion; and I have no hesitation in saying that I regard the summary ejection of Mr. Maurice from his offices in King's College as a calamity. Mr. Maurice, in one of his letters to Dr. Jelf, refers to some "Scotch Calvinists, heavily bowed with the yoke of the Westminster Confession," who "are turning to our forms, as witnesses of a Gospel to mankind which they are hindered from preaching" (p. 16). It is just possible that a recent case in Brighton may have been in his eye. I would only say, whether that be so or not, that if any process for censure, or deprivation of office, against Mr. Maurice had been conducted as that process was conducted,—and as we are accustomed to see such processes conducted page 36 in Scotland;—with some delay, yet with full publicity; with all the regular formality of a carefully-drawn indictment, an examination of witnesses, and the fullest hearing of parties;—considering the man, the church, the cause concerned;—unspeakably good might have been effected; a most valuable testimony for truth might have been borne; and an exposure made, not of one isolated error, but of a systematic form of false doctrine,—such as England might have been the better for ages hence. For I must, with all deference to Principals, venture to make another remark. How any theologian could bring himself to discuss and condemn—or even to discuss—what Mr. Maurice says on the subject of future punishment, at the very close of his book, and almost by way of a mere appendix,* otherwise than in connexion with his whole previous teaching throughout all the Essays, passes my comprehension. I have not done so. I do not intend to do so. I recall your minds in a sentence or two to the actual state of the question, and leave you with a single observation thereafter.

What is our position here and now? on this earth, and for the space of some threescore and ten years which we have to spend on the earth? Are we unfallen creatures,—not guilty, depraved, condemned;—tormented, no doubt, with a plague of self within, and sadly vexed and oppressed by an Evil Spirit of selfishness tyrannising over us;—but still having near us and in us as the root of our being, a Righteousness, a Redeemer, a strong Son of God, who has sounded the depths of all our experiences;—and also a Spirit coming forth from the Father and the Son, to show us that we are all sons of God, and are all brethren? Is this our present page 37 state? And have we in prospect before us indefinite time, beyond death, in which, under a clearer light of discovery and revelation, the awful problem of God's will prevailing over ours, or our will resisting God's, may work out some-how its solution,—the loving Father's wrath against the unlovely burning on, in respect of all of us, and not quenched till its loving purpose is fulfilled? Or are we a race of respited criminals, over whom the righteous sentence of the holy and righteous God is suspended, that a dispensation of mercy may run its appointed and limited course? If this last view of our present state is the true one (and Scripture must be read backwards or written over again,—nay, the universal conscience of mankind must be annilated,—if it is not), then how sad a thing is it to let any vague and general reasonings of ours, about what we think should be the ultimate issues of things, interfere with the urgent work of persuading the guilty criminals, whose respect is so precarious, rather to embrace the offered mercy than remain under the old condemnation, aggravated as it must be by the fresh guilt of the rejected amnesty and mercy! Show me one hint in all the Bible of any offer of grace, or any opportunity of salvation, beyond the limits of this present life, and I will try to calculate chances for myself and my fellow-sinners. But if you cannot, stand aside, and I also will stand aside. Let us be still. And let God, himself proclaim on Sinai the threatenings of law, and fill the air round Bethlehem with the soft song of peace. Above all, let him, in the cross of his own Son, reveal the inevitable certainty of retribution—the unsearchable riches of grace.

My closing observation is a practical one. I had intended to trace slightly the author's views, as developed in this book, to some of the sources whence they might, have been, if they have not been, derived. There is little page 38 or nothing that is really new in them. Mr. Maurice cannot be called an original writer as to matter, though his manner and style are fresh. He is not, probably, much acquainted with the literature of Protestant theology. If he is, it is the worse for his candour; for in that case his misrepresentations are inexcusable. He writes as if the field had never been gone over before, and as if he was making discoveries; never indicating any knowledge of the fact, that all his reasonings against the current orthodox and evangelical doctrines have been anticipated and answered over and over again. I might show the coincidence of his views as to the inward light with those of Barclay and the Friends; the extent of his obligation to Edward Irving and Thomas Erskine for his ideas of the Incarnation and Atonement; and the agreement of his opinions, on all the leading points of Christian doctrine, with those of ordinary Unitarians: with these two exceptions: that, under whatever limitations, they admit a resurrection, a judgment, and a future state of rewards and punishments; whilst, on the other hand, with whatever explanations, he asserts strongly the doctrine of the Trinity. But to return to my concluding remark;—

The heavy weight upon every thinking man's mind in connexion with this whole subject, is the sad and seemingly hopeless state of the vast multitudes, not in heathen lands only, but at our very doors, to whom there seems actually to be no opportunity given for escaping the wrath to come. How that weight should lie less oppressively on my mind if I embrace the author's view, than if I hold by the common belief of Christendom, I cannot understand;—unless I have a far clearer revelation than he can give me, of a more favourable condition of things, when life's fitful fever is over. Nor can I see any reason why men seeking to persuade their fellows to embrace an offered means of escape from coming page 39 judgment, should be more violent or more ecstatic than those who have to tell them that they are in a wrong state, and that state, while it lasts, is hell. But this I say,—If any man accepts the Gospel as a message of mercy for him self, and rejoices in his escape from liability to condemnation, and his present possession of eternal life in the knowledge of the Son of God,—he lies under an obligation not to be measured, to go everywhere among his fellows, that knowing the terror of the Lord, he may persuade men. I say, more over, that it will be would guilt in him if he is not the foremost in every good work for rescuing society from ignorance, poverty, and crime. And I say, finally, that he has a weapon of power which none else can wield, when he has to tell of an all-sufficient Atonement, a free Justification, a full Salvation. I call upon the Evangelical Churches everytwhere to arise and to do their duty in these perilous times. God expects it at their hands. "Awake, awake; put on thy strength, O Zion; put on thy beautiful garments, O Jerusalem. Shake thyself from the dust; arise and sit down, O Jerusalem; loose the bands of thy neck, O captive daughter of Zion!"

* This remark applies particularly to the first edition of the Essays, which alone Dr. Jelf had before him, and in which the subject of the future state is not considered in a separate essay at all, but occupies merely a few pages at the end of the Essay on the Trinity.