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ALCE8TI8 IN ENGLAND
A DISCOURSE
DELIVERED AT
SOUTH PLACE CHAPEL,
FINSBURY.
JANUARY 21,
1877.
BY
MONCURE D.
Price 2d.
CONWAY.
��ALCESTIS IN ENGLAND.
Not long ago the Alcestis of Euripides was pro
duced at the Crystal Palace, with- accompaniment of
beautiful music by an English composer, Mr. Henry
Gadsby. The large audience was profoundly interested,
and evinced genuine sympathy with all that was
noble, and abhorrence of what was base, in the
characters and action brought before them. The event
has appeared to me significant. Alcestis is one of
the few ancient Greek melodramas. The majority of
dramas left us by the poets of Greece turn upon
religious themes, and usually they are tragedies. It
is evident that to them the popular religion around
them was itself a tragedy. Their heroes and heroines
—such as Prometheus and Macaria—were generally
victims of the jealousy or caprice of the gods ; and
�though the poets display in their dramas the irresistible
power of the gods, they do so without reverence for
that power, and generally show the human victims
to be more honourable than the gods. But the Alcestis
of Euripides is not a tragedy : it ends happily, and in
the rescue of one of those victims of the gods. It
stands as about the first notice served on the gods
that the human heart had got tired of their high
handed proceedings, and they might prepare to quit
the thrones of the universe unless they could exhibit
more humanity.
The story of Alcestis opens with the decree of
the Fates that a certain man, Admetus, shall die.
But Apollo, who had been befriended by Admetus,
asks the Fates to spare him. The Fates say they
are willing, provided any one can be found to die in
his place ; for the powers below have been promised
their victim and must not be cheated, though it does
not matter whether their victim be Admetus or
somebody else. Upon this, Alcestis, the wife of
Admetus, steps forward and offers to die in his stead.
Admetus accepts this vicarious arrangement, but Apollo
feels that it is a rather mean affair; so when Death
comes to claim Alcestis, Apollo tries to argue the
case with him. But Death plants himself upon the
principle of divine justice. The notion of justice
among the gods is, that either the sentenced culprit
shall die or else some innocent person for him.
�5
Apollo is too well read in heavenly law to dispute this
code, but he is rather ashamed of it, and then follows
something peculiar. Knowing that neither he nor any
other deity can legally resist the decree of another
deity, Apollo is reduced to hope for help from man.
Human justice may save where divine justice sacrifices.
He prophesies to Death that although he may seize
Alcestis, a man will come who will conquer him, and
deliver that woman from the infernal realm. There
is then a pathetic scene in which Alcestis dies, making
her last request to her husband to devote himself to
her children, and reminding him of the happiness she
had left in her father’s palace to share his destiny,
and at last die for him. But, now, when she is dead,
Admetus’ father, Pheres, bitterly reproaches his son
for accepting life on such base terms as the death of
another. The people generally reproach him in the
same way, and at length Admetus feels that he has
acted a disgraceful part, and his life so unworthily
saved becomes worthless and miserable.
Then Hercules comes on the scene. He has been
slaying lion and dragon, and he now resolves to
conquer Death and deliver Alcestis. This he does ;
he descends into Hades, and delivers her from prison.
He brings her to her husband amid the general
joy.
There are several points in the story which present
a significant parallelism to the very letter of the legend,
�6
that arose some centuries later, of Christ’s descent into
Hell. For instance, when the rescued and risen
Alcestis is brought into the presence of Admetus he
cannot recognise her : she has yet too much that is
ghostly about her. Hercules tells Admetus it is not
lawful for her to speak to him “ until she is unbound
from her consecration to the gods beneath, and the
third day come.” So we see whence this idea of
rising on the third day is derived, and what notions
surrounded him who reported Jesus as at first not
recognised by Maiy, and then as saying to her, “ Touch
me not, for I have not yet ascended to my Father.”'
The consecration of Hades was still upon him.
However, it is not to such details as these that I
wish to call your attention. It is more important to
consider that the entire drama turns upon the same
principles as the popular religion of England. It
only requires a change of names to make Alcestis a
Christian Passion-play. We have in it the unappeas
able law of Fate corresponding to the divine decree,
by which Jehovah himself was so fettered that there
could be no remission of sentence without the shed
ding of blood. We have the barbaric notion that
justice is satisfied by the vicarious suffering of anyone
at all, willing to sacrifice himself for the person in
volved punishment by proxy. And then, we have a
being who is a god in power, but man in heart: the
god-man Hercules, whose father was Jupiter, but
�7
whose mother was a woman, Alcmene ; and this in
carnate son of God vanquishes the infernal powers,
where a mere deity was powerless to do so on account
of the heavenly etiquette, and the gods’ peculiar notion
of justice.
The god-man Hercules went through the earth
■destroying earthly evils in twelve great Labours. The
legend was one of the most widespread and impres
sive throughout the Greek and Roman world at the
time of the establishment of Christianity. From the
old pictures of Christ’s triumphal pilgrimage on earth,
parallels to the chief labours of Hercules may be
found. Christ is shown treading on the lion, the asp,
the dragon, and Satan; and all the myths converge
in his conquest of Death and Hell. In the old
pictures of Christ delivering souls from Hades, Eve is
generally shown coming out first in suggestive simi
larity to Eurydice following Orpheus, and Alcestis
Hercules.
Such Greek myths mark an ascent of the human
mind above the idea of their early theology, which had
become a sort of pagan Calvinism. The advanced
minds had plainly grown ashamed of gods who
reigned with such an unjust idea as that of vicarious
.suffering; and Euripides dealt with the notion just as a
Freethinker now deals with the same. The audience
at the Crystal Palace applauded Pheres when he
■denounced his own son for the meanness of accepting
�8
salvation through the suffering of another. What
they applauded was an attack on the Christian scheme
of redemption. Pheres only anticipated James Marti
neau, who once similarly rebuked the baseness of those
who would not rather go to hell than be saved by the
death and suffering of an innocent being. What would
the audience have said to Pheres’ sentiment, if it had
been told them that they themselves were so many
Admetuses, accepting safety at the cost of the innocent
Alcestis of Calvary ? What, if they had been reminded
that the principle represented by Death, that justioe
is satisfied by so much suffering without respect to
who is the sufferer, is precisely the same as that by
which Christianity declares that the divine law required
a victim, but was quite satisfied if the innocent suffer
for the guilty ? The audience would, perhaps, have
regarded such suggestions with horror, and yet they
applauded the principle by which Christianity is now
assailed. We need not complain of this. It is much
to congratulate ourselves upon that in Art, at least,
we may have high and noble principles brought before
the people, and responded to by them. It is much
that a miserable superstition, though it may have
enfeebled the moral sentiment of the people, has not
yet eaten into their heart and instinct so far as to make
them really put darkness for light, and honour disease
as health.
In the ancient Greek religion, Jupiter stood just
�9
where Jehovah stood in the Jewish religion. They
were both stern, jealous, vindictive deities,—personi
fications of thunder and lightning,—with no humanity
about them. Gradually, the Greeks became ashamed
of Jupiter, and they began to worship heroes who had
human hearts,—such as Hercules. In the same way,
in another line of development, men became ashamed
of Jehovah, and had to set up the human-hearted
Christ instead of him. In the early days when the
worship of Christ meant an appeal against deified
despotism, it w’as a healthy and noble worship. But
that was before there was anything in the world called
Christianity. Christianity was the overthrow of Christ.
It was the invention of a priesthood who found that
this novel idea of Christ, that God is Love, sending
sunshine alike on good and evil, would prove fatal to
their power. For their purpose men must be terrified.
So they contrived and intrigued until they unseated
Christ with his Gospel of Love, by tacking on to him
the discredited Jove and Jehovah, and setting their
lightnings to work again. They were but too success
ful. He who came “not to condemn but to save”
was made into an awful Judge of the quick and dead.
They have transmitted to us precisely those ideas of
death and hell, vicarious suffering and remorseless,
divine decrees, which the Heraclean apotheosis in
Greece at one period and Christ-worship at another,
overthrew for a time; and they have compelled us
�IO
to do the whole protestant work over again, and re
cover Christ by a rebellion against Christianity.
To-day, again, we see rising a certain shame of
theologic dogmas. Though the Church declares the
Bible to be the word of God, it excludes much of it
from its Lectionary, as unfit to be read in public. The
preachers are so ashamed of their dogmas that they
are angry at hearing them quoted, and say they are
caricatures even when taken literally from their creeds
and confessions. Lately the honour has been conferred
upon us of having our heresies made the subject of spe
cial treatment by the Christian Evidence Society, over
which the Archbishop of Canterbury presides, assisted
by many other prelates. Some recent controversies
which we have had in Holloway led that Society
to delegate four eminent clergymen to demolish our
principles during the Sundays of Advent. Now, those
sermons have been published; 1 have read them care
fully ; and in not one of them is there any defence of
Christianity at all. Not one of them deals with the
fall of man, human depravity, the atonement, or hell
fire. Not one of them has touched on anything
distinctive in Christianity. They eulogise Christ’s
character, applaud his charity, praise the sermon on
the mount, and discourse of everything but the real
points at issue. No Hindoo, reading those Advent
sermons, could gather from any word in them that
English religion believed in the Devil at all, much less
�II
as the natural Father of the human family; or in
eternal hell-fire, or vicarious atonement to an un
relenting God. And yet these men were especially
appointed to defend Christianity !
Why did they not defend it ? Why, they are scholars,
and scholars are ashamed of such dogmas. They are
ashamed of a God who says he will laugh at the
calamity of men and mock when their fear cometh ;
they blush for a dogma which says there was a bargain
struck between the Divine Sovereign and Christ,—so
much sin ransomed with so much blood; they feel the
scandal of such guilty calumnies on men and God as
human depravity and future tortures : they dare not
defend such things. So they surround themselves with
a cloud of verbal incense to Christ and Christianity,
and hope people will understand that at the heart of
the rhetorical cloud there is sound orthodoxy. But I
have never seen so startling a manifestation of the
irresistible rationalism of this age as that four clergy
men—among them a Professor of History, and a
Bampton Lecturer—delegated by a Society of Bishops
and clergy to defend Christianity, should pass over its
every distinctive dogma to praise virtues common to all
religions of the world.
As Balaam in the legend was sent for by Balak to
curse Israel but proceeded to bless them, these
defenders of the faith have left at the end of their
labours an impressive testimony that their so-called
�12
faith is indefensible, and that the most Superstition
can hope for is a golden bridge for its retreat before
the reason and sentiment of our time.
I say the “ sentiment ” of our time, for the orthodox
theology is not only repudiated by disciplined reasoners,
but the whole population have become so ashamed of
it that it cannot be taught in the public schools. The
religion now taught in the National Schools is nearly
the religion of Dr. Channing. It mainly depends now
upon the advance of a higher order of teachers, such
as is sure to appear, that those schools shall diffuse a
rational religion. Such a phenomenon would be im
possible were it not that the people have become
ashamed of the traditional dogmas. It has become
possible for our daily papers to write of “the un
pardonable sin ” as a curious survival of antiquity, as
if it were not in both Bible and Theology. An inquest
was recently held on a poor lady who died of the belief
that she had committed that Scriptural sin, and a leading
*
newspaper recommends the seaside for such diseases.
It also says such persons should be surrounded by
friendship and love. Exactly so. Like Alcestis they
are under the dark, deadly shadow of some heartless,
though happily imaginary, deity or demon—some
phantom of the terrors in nature,—and like Alcestis
they are to be brought from that region of shadows by
such love as dwells in human hearts.
* See Daily News, January 19th, 1877.
�All this means a new religion subtilely penetrating,
widely transfusing, the whole heart and brain of
Society. Mankind are saved by a divine humanity.
This is what our ancestors tried to express, as they
fled from gods of the storm to deities of love, incarnate
in human hearts,-—-born of human mothers that they
may bear a maternal tenderness to meet the needs of
a humanity born of woman. “ Had men been angels,”
says the Koran, “ we had sent them an angel out of
heaven; but we have sent them a man like themselves.”
All the incarnations believed in—Vishnu, Krishna,
Christ—meant the universal love recognised in human
love, as the sun might sign its course on a dial. Omar
Kheyam said, “ Diversity of Worship has divided the
human race into seventy-two nations ; from among all
their doctrines I have selected one—Divine Love.
And now, seven centuries after him, the civilised
world is making the same selection. It is quietly
hiding out of sight, secretly burying, the dismal
dogmas of divine wrath.
But we must take warning by the fact that this pro
cess has been gone through before our time j it has
been gone through again and again, but in every case
has been followed by relapse. Every bright incarna
tion marks a period when the human heart rebelled
against some heavenly tyrant; but invariably has the
new form been coerced into the vesture of the old, and
the fallen thunderbolts pressed back into his hand-
�I4
And this has always been done by one and the same
power—that of self-interested priesthood. No priest
hood can be strong except through fear. Many ages
have proved that. To cultivate religious fear has
always been their life in the past ; and now, when the
community has outgrown infra-natural fears—at least
in civilised centres—-they must invent some new kind
of terror, or else abdicate. The investment in Chris
tianity is too great for such abdication in this country,
and so the priestly interest is busily conjuring up
phantoms of another—a social—kind. It is declared
that all morality depends upon churches and sects.
There is still enough superstition to influence women
■and children, and this, we are told, must be carefully
retained and fostered, or else men will break all restraints
and carry society to rack and ruin. We are warned
that our institutions are all built up together like an
arch, Christianity among them ; and if one stone gives
way all the rest will tumble.
The only dark feature of our age is the spread of
this guilty notion, that falsehood is essential to the
welfare of human society. It is just that hypocrisy
which really endangers society. If ever the loyalty of
the people to law fails, it will be because the law insists
on maintaining proven error, and on turning the means
of education and happiness to the repression of science
under superstition.
That the social edifice needs pious fraud to support
�it is the last superstition surviving among the educated
and it is that we have mainly to combat.
And neither Hercules or Christ ever had a more
monstrous thing to encounter. To identify the interests
of superstition with those of social morality is not
mere atheism, it is antitheism; it is not mere belief
that there is no God; it is going against God : it is
pitting falsehood against truth—upholding darkness
against light—ascribing to ignorance more potency
than right knowledge : it is to declare a universe whose
every corner-stone is a lie !
The only saving faith of to-day is a faith that right
can never do wrong, that truth can never misguide
those who trust in it. The absence of this faith is the
only scepticism of our time worth a moment’s con
cern. The downfall of Jehovah, or the Trinity, is no
more than the vanishing away of Jupiter and Diana
who preceded them. Our posterity will witness the
performance of “ Paradise Lost ” as calmly as we now
do the same plot in the play of Alcestis These things
will pass away. But human society will not pass away;
the habit of mind—whether it be truthful or untruth
ful ; the human character—-whether it be faithful or
faithless ;—these will not pass away. We are to-day
weaving the destinies of the future, and every false
rotten thread we weave in will tell in the woof. We
are weaving not for our own race alone, but for
Humanity. As the priestly frauds of seventeen centuries
�i6
-ago are fettering millions to-day—among them many
of our own friends, and ourselves more than we know
—so will every lie sustained to-day bequeath a chain
to those who come after us. Is Humanity nothing to
us ? Then may we creep through our little conven
tional life, enjoy its petty rewards; but it will still be
true that he who has not known the love of Humanity,
nor felt its inspiration, has missed and lost the great
gospel of his time.
We must learn to read these ever new, though most
ancient, revelations of the life in nature to be unfolded
through man. Long ago has Alcestis been set to the
still sad music of humanity, for those who can listen
deep. All around us there is a Hades, and many
there be that go in thereat. Even while we claim
the triumphs of reason, and mark the skulking retreat
of dogmatic phantoms waylaid by the morn, the shadow
falls again upon us from the miasma of moral infidelity.
Out of it darts the double-tongue, striking at the heart
of all manly character. This is the Inferno of those
who see the truth, and applaud when it confronts the
wrongs of distant ages, but before the errors of
to-day cringe and crawl, and have one tongue for
the conventional, another for the secret audience.
Even honest ritualism is better than this unfaithful
rationalism.
Each manly heart has an Alcestis to deliver. Each
must combat with Death,—whether it be the skeleton
�!7
-•arms of a dead creed holding the mind in deadly
grip of fear; or be it the moral death which has
cheated our brother of his soul, and left him the
social simulacrum of a man.
It does not require of us the might of Hercules,
nor cost the blood of Christ, to make some rescues
at least from the dark abodes of faithlessness and fear;
but it does require still that we shall be filled with
■divine love, that we shall be animated by that alone,
till in our human hearts there flame a passion for saving
men, women and children from the bondage of fear
and the degradation of falsehood.
��
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Conway Hall Library & Archives
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2018
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Conway Hall Ethical Society
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Alcestis in England : a discourse delivered at South Place Chapel, Finsbury, January 21 1877
Creator
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CONWAY, Moncure Daniel [1832-1907]
Description
An account of the resource
Place of publication: [London]
Collation: 17 p. ; 15 cm.
Notes: Part of Morris Miscellaneous Tracts 1. Includes a bibliographical reference.
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[South Place Chapel]
Date
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[1877]
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G3334
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Free thought
Mythology
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Text
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English
Belief and Doubt
Drama-Greek
Faith and Reason-Christianity
Free Thought
Greek literature
Morris Tracts
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AN INQUIRY INTO THE GROUNDS OF UNBELIEF AND AN APPEAL FOR CANDOUR.
By PHILIP VIVIAN.
Extracts from some (of many) Press Notices :
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PHASES OF FAITH
��PHASES OF FAITH
OR
PASSAGES FROM THE HISTORY OF MY CREED
BY
FRANCIS WILLIAM NEWMAN
[issued for the
rationalist press association, limited]
London:
WATTS & CO.,
17, JOHNSON’S COURT, FLEET STREET, E.C.
1907
��CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAP.
I.
II.
My Youthful Creed -
Strivings After
a
-
-
-
!5
-
More Primitive Christianity
-
25
III.
Calvinism Abandoned
-
-
-40
IV.
The Religion of the Letter Renounced
-
-
55
-
-
70
-
93
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
-
-
Faith at Second Hand Found to
History Discovered to
On
the
be no
Moral Perfection
On Bigotry
and
of
Progress -
be
Part
Jesus
-
Vain
of
Religion
-
-
-
102
-
-
-
118
��PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION
This is perhaps an egotistical book—egotistical certainly in its form, yet not
in its purport and essence.
Personal reasons the writer cannot wholly disown for desiring to explain
himself to more than a few who, on religious grounds, are unjustly alienated
from him. If by any motive of curiosity or lingering remembrances they
may be led to read his straightforward account, he trusts to be able to show
them that he has had no choice but to adopt the intellectual conclusions which
offend them ; that the difference between them and him turns on questions
of Learning, History, Criticism, and Abstract Thought; and that to make
their results (if, indeed, they have ever deeply and honestly investigated the
matter) the tests of his spiritual state is to employ unjust weights and a false
balance, which are an abomination to the Lord. To defraud one’s neighbour
of any tithe of mint and cummin would seem to them a sin ; is it less to
withhold affection, trust, and free intercourse, and build up unpassable barriers
of coldness and alarm, against one whose sole offence is to differ from them
intellectually ?
But the argument before the writer is something immensely greater than
a personal one. So it happens that to vindicate himself is to establish a
mighty truth—a truth which can in no other way so well enter the heart as
when it comes embodied in an individual case. If he can show that to have
shrunk from his successive convictions would have been “ infidelity ” to God
and Truth and Righteousness, but that he has been “faithful”to the highest
and most urgent duty, it will be made clear that Belief is one thing and Faith
another ; that to believe is intellectual—nay, possibly “ earthly, devilish ”;
and that to set up any fixed creed as a test of spiritual character is a most
unjust, oppressive, and mischievous superstition. The historical form has
been deliberately selected as easier and more interesting to the reader ; but
it must not be imagined that the author has given his mental history in
general, much less an autobiography. The progress of his creed is his sole
subject, and other topics are introduced either to illustrate this or as digres
sions suggested by it.
March 22nd, 1850.
��PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION
I HAVE expanded a few passages in the later portions of this book where, by
reason (I suppose) of my too great brevity, I have been greatly misappre
hended. For the same reason I have enlarged a short discussion into an
entire new chapter on the Moral Perfection of Jesus. Disagreeable experience
warns me that hostile reviewers will endeavour, as before, to excite prejudice
against me by picking out my conclusions, and carefully stripping off every
reason which I assign, as also every qualifying and softening addition, pre
paratory to turning on me and charging me with “ inconsistency ” for not
being as one-sided as they have told their readers that I am. I now say, not
only is this careful suppression of my arguments a cowardly trick and a
mark of their conscious weakness, but, as they well know that every word
whispered against the personal perfection of Jesus is intensely offensive, I
charge them (if they have some conscience, as I hope) not to outrage their
readers and pretend it is I who do so. To give my reasons, as well as my
conclusions, may aid to a true and stable result, whether I prove convincing
or unconvincing. To give my conclusions alone, and inadequately, can
proceed from none but a malignant intention.
*
*
*
*
*
*
May, 1833.
��INTRODUCTION TO THE PRESENT REPRINT
The work of which a new edition is now offered to the public first
appeared in 1850. The author, F. W. Newman (1805-1897), younger
brother of the celebrated Tractarian leader, was then nearly forty-five,
and this was not his first contribution to liberal religious thought. In
1844 he had published A Plea for Catholic Union, proposing to build
the Church of the future on a purely ethical basis. It was followed, in
1847, by A History of the Hebrew Monarchy, dealing very freely with
the consecrated traditions of the Old Testament, and by a manual of
constructive Theism, called The Soul, in 1849. These works showed no
doubt that the younger Newman, like his brother, the future Cardinal,
found no satisfactory basis for a working faith in the Evangelical Biblicism
with which both had begun life; only, instead of going back to a religion
of organised authority, he had gone forward to a religion of reason and
personal experience.
So far, however, there had been little of aggressive negation in his
tone; it was not his fault if orthodox critics chose to treat him as
an assailant of their creed. With Phases of Faith the case was widely
different. From beginning to end, it is destructive criticism—an
unflinching exposition of the reasons before which article after article
in the creed of one who began as a believer of the narrowest type had
given way. According to Newman, the Bible, even assuming it to be
infallible, cannot be made to support any of the dogmatic systems—
from Calvinism to Unitarianism—put forward on its authority. And
the Bible is not infallible. Its writers are often mistaken, and sometimes
intentionally misleading. Still more audaciously he declares that modern
civilisation is due not to the Reformation, but to the Renaissance.
It needed no ordinary courage to write these things. Such a
declaration, coming without ambiguity or disguise, under the signature
of an English gentleman and scholar during his lifetime, had never been
known till then. It was, of course, neither unprepared for nor unexpected.
A storm had been gathering for years. Through the ’forties and even
earlier we hear on good contemporary evidence of much floating Scepticism
�12
INTRODUCTION TO THE PRESENT REPRINT
among the higher classes, and the more intelligent artisans were imbibing
Robert Owen s negations along with his constructive social teaching.
Coleridge, the great oracle of the Broad Church, was known to have
entertained the freest views about inspiration; and Hennell’s Inquiry
Concerning the Origin of Christianity inaugurated the modern Unitarian
theory of a Gospel without miracles. In 1840, the elder Newman writes
to Keble that “ Rationalism is the great evil of the day.” But the news
paper Press and the publishers were so dominated by clericalists of all
shades that its systematic literary expression was long prohibited. The
passionate controversies aroused by the Oxford Movement had caused
the dogmas held in common by High and Low Churchmen to be
preached with more uncompromising stubbornness than ever. Keble
and Pusey were as strict Biblical Infallibilists as Henry Rogers and
Isaac Taylor. Dr. Arnold died young. Thirlwall and Hampden were
extinguished by mitres. The Edinburgh Review was captured for
Evangelicalism by Sir James Stephen. A work which for the first time
put forth the arguments for universal evolution in clear and popular
language, the Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation (1844), had to
be published anonymously, or its author would have been ruined.
No doubt the increasing pressure of scientific truth and the natural
development of thought, aided by the growing familiarity of Englishmen
and Englishwomen with Continental research, were bound, sooner or
later, to let in the light. But someone is also bound to be the first to
open the shutters wide; and in this instance that one was Francis
Newman. Phases of Faith came as a charter of freedom. An illustrious
founder of modern Rationalism, W. R. Greg, tells us, in the preface to
his Creed of Christendom, that “no work contributed more to force upon
me the conviction that little progress can be hoped either for religious
science or for charitable feeling till the question of Biblical authority
shall have been placed upon a sounder footing, and viewed in a very
different light.” And so he himself was induced, “after long hesitation,”
to publish a work embodying much the same conclusions as Newman’s,
which had been lying by him finished for two years. It is merely a
conjecture of my own, but I cannot help thinking that Carlyle’s defiant
rejection of the popular theology, first proclaimed to the world in his
of Sterling (1851), was not unconnected with the great example set
a year before.
Science, too, so long the humble servant of theology, felt the
delivering thrill. One of its greatest representatives, Sir Charles Lyell,
�INTRODUCTION TO THE PRESENT REPRINT
i3
who had long suffered in silence from the prevalent obscurantism, hailed
Phases of Faith as a sign of the times. In a private letter, dated 185T,
he tells a friend that professors are publishing the most unorthodox views,
for entertaining or confessing which they would have been sent to Coventry
ten years before. Newman was, in fact, at that time Professor of Latin
at University College, London; but probably there was no other public
institution in the three kingdoms where he would have been suffered to
remain after such a defiance to the prevalent bigotry. Others quickly
followed where he had led, and Rationalism has since been carried
much further; but perhaps no single step taken by a single man has
won for us so much freedom as that. Personal authority, so often
exercised on the side of superstition, told in this instance on the side of
reason. I have said that Professor Newman was a gentleman and a
scholar. It is, as we know, quite possible to reason excellently well
without being either the one or the other; but those qualities give their
possessor the advantage of a respectful hearing. I may add that his
saintly character left no room for the vulgar insinuation against
unbelievers that they find the restraints of religion too galling to be
endured. There remained only the taunt that he was “ peculiar,” which
certainly has been worked for all that it is worth. It must be confessed
that the author of Phases of Faith was a vegetarian, an anti-vaccinationist, a total abstainer, and a supporter of woman’s suffrage. The
candid reader must therefore take the book and its arguments subject to
the drawbacks entailed by these admissions.
It may be noticed, also, that Newman’s very sincere Theism, by
securing him a wider circle of readers, only increased the malignancy
of his Evangelical opponents, who directed all their efforts towards
proving that he had no logical right to believe in God—with results on
which their successors of the present day can hardly be congratulated.
Thanks very largely to his efforts, much for which Newman con
tended is now conceded by the Evangelicals themselves. But there are
other points, by no means as yet generally admitted, that he presses
home with robust good sense, and that we are apt to lose sight of amid
the larger questions opened by recent advances in physical science and
historical criticism. In every instance, I think, it will be found that his
Rationalism has borne the test of later inquiry.
Apart from all controversial or historical interest, it is hoped that
Phases of Faith will appeal, as in the best sense a human document, to
many whom the same passion for truth may now be leading along other
�'I
INTRODUCTION TO THE PRESENT REPRINT
and divergent lines of thought. With much less logical power, Cardinal
Newman’s Apologia has more variety, picturesqueness, and literary charm.
But there are not many examples in autobiographical literature of such
simple-minded sincerity, clothed in such lucid, impressive, unaffected
language as this record of a brave thinker’s inner life.
Alfred W. Benn.
March 17th, 1907.
�PHASES OF FAITH
Chapter I.
MY YOUTHFUL CREED
I first began to read religious books at
school, and especially the Bible, when I
was eleven years old, and almost imme
diately commenced a habit of secret
prayer. But it was not until I was
fourteen that I gained any definite idea
of a “ scheme of doctrine,” or could have
been called a “converted person” by
one of the Evangelical School. My
religion then certainly exerted a great
general influence over my conduct, for I
soon underwent various persecution from
my schoolfellows on account of it. The
worst kind consisted in their deliberate
attempts to corrupt me. An evangelical
clergyman at the school gained my
affections, and from him I imbibed more
and more distinctly the full creed which
distinguishes that body of men—a body
whose bright side I shall ever appreciate,
in spite of my present perception that
they have a dark side also. I well
remember that one day when I said to
this friend of mine that I could not
understand how the doctrine of election
was reconcilable to God’s justice, but
supposed that I should know this in due
time if I waited and believed His word,
he replied, with emphatic commendation,
that this was the spirit which God always
blessed. Such was the beginning and
foundation of my faith—an unhesitating,
unconditional acceptance of whatever
was found in the Bible. While I am far
from saying that my whole moral conduct
was subjugated by my creed, I must
insist that it was no mere fancy resting
in my intellect; it was really operative
on my temper, tastes, pursuits, and
conduct.
When I was sixteen, in 1821, I was
“ confirmed ” by Dr. Howley, then
Bishop of London, and endeavoured to
take on myself, with greater decision and
more conscientious consistency, the whole
yoke of Christ.
Everything in the
service was solemn to me except the
Bishop; he seemed to me a madent-b
man and a mere pageant. I also
remember that when I was examined by
the clergyman for confirmation it troubled
me much that he only put questions
which tested my memory concerning the
Catechism and other formulas, instead of
trying to find out whether I had any
actual faith in that about which I was to
be called to profess faith : I was not
then aware that his sole duty was to try
my knowledge. But I already felt keenly
the chasm that separated the High from
the Low Church, and that it was
impossible for me to sympathise with
those who imagined that forms could
command the spirit.
Yet so entirely was I enslaved to one
form—that of observing the Sunday, or,
as I had learned falsely to call it, the
Sabbath—that I fell into painful and
injurious conflict with a superior kinsman,
by refusing to obey his orders on the
Sunday. He attempted to deal with me
by mere authority, not by instruction,
and to yield my conscience to authority
would have been to yield up all spiritual
life. I erred, but I was faithful to God.
When I was rather more than seventeen
�i6
MY YOUTHFUL CREED
I subscribed the Thirty-nine Articles at
Oxford in order to be admitted to the
University. Subscription was “ no
bondage,” but pleasure, for I well knew
and loved the Articles, and looked on
them as a great bulwark of the truth ;
a bulwark, however, not by being
imposed, but by the spiritual and
classical beauty which to me shone in
them. But it was certain to me before I
went to Oxford, and manifest in my first
acquaintance with it, that very few
academicians could be said to believe
them. Of the young men, not one in
five seemed to have any religious con
victions at all; the elder residents seldom
or never showed sympathy with the
doctrines that pervade that formula. I
felt from my first day there that the
system of compulsory subscription was
hollow, false, and wholly evil.
Oxford is a pleasant place for making
friends—friends of all sorts that young
men wish. One who is above envy and
scorns servility—who can praise and
delight in all the good qualities of his
equals in age, and does not desire to set
himself above them, or to vie with his
superiors in rank—may have more than
enough of friends, for pleasure and for
profit. So certainly had I; yet no one
of my equals gained any ascendency over
me, nor perhaps could I have looked up
to any for advice. In some the intellect,
in others the religious qualities, were as
yet insufficiently developed ; in part also
I wanted discrimination, and did not
well pick out the profounder minds of
my acquaintance. However, on my very
first residence in college, I received a
useful lesson from another freshman—a
grave and thoughtful person, older, I
imagine, than most yquths in their first
term. Some readers may be amused, as
well as surprised, when I name the
delicate question on which I got into
discussion with my fellow freshman. I
had learned from Evangelical books that
there is a twofold imputation to every
saint—not of the “sufferings” only, but
also of the “ righteousness ” of Christ.
They alleged that, while the sufferings of
Jesus are a compensation for the guilt of
the believer and make him innocent, yet
this suffices not to give him a title to
heavenly glory, for which he must over
and above be invested in active righteous
ness, by all Christ’s good works being
made over to him. My new friend con
tested the latter part of the doctrine.
Admitting fully that guilt is atoned for
by the sufferings of the Saviour, he yet
maintained there was no farther imputa
tion of Christ’s active service as if it had
been our service. After a rather sharp
controversy I was sent back to study the
matter for myself, especially in the third
and fourth chapters of the Epistle to the
Romans, and some weeks after freely
avowed to him that I was convinced.
Such was my first effort at independent
thought against the teaching of my
spiritual fathers, and I suppose it had
much value for me. This friend might
probably have been of service to me,
though he was rather cold and lawyer
like j but he was abruptly withdrawn
from Oxford to be employed in active
life.
I first received a temporary discomfort
about the Thirty-nine Articles from an
irreligious young man who had been my
schoolfellow, who one day attacked the
article which asserts that Christ carried
“ his flesh and bones ” with him into
heaven. I was not moved by the physical
absurdity which this youth mercilessly
derided, and I repelled his objections as
an impiety. But I afterwards remembered
the text, “Flesh and blood shall not
inherit the kingdom of God,” and it
seemed to me as if the compilers had
really gone a little too far. If I had
immediately then been called on to
subscribe, I suppose it would have
somewhat discomposed me; but as time
went on I forgot this small point, which
was swallowed up by others more
important. Yet I believe that hence
forth a greater disposition to criticise the
Articles grew upon me
The first novel opinion of any great
importance that I actually embraced, so
as to give roughness to my course, was
�MY YOUTHFUL CREED
that which many then called the Oriel
heresy about Sunday., Oriel College at
this time contained many active and
several original minds ; and it was
rumoured that one of the Fellows
rejoiced in seeing his parishioners play
at cricket on Sunday : I do not know
whether that was true, but so it was said.
Another of them preached an excellent
sermon before the University, clearly
showing that Sunday had nothing to do
with the Sabbath, nor the Sabbath with
us, and inculcating on its own ground a
wise and devout use of the Sunday
hours. The evidently pious and sincere
tone of this discourse impressed me,
and I felt that I had no right to reject
as profane and undeserving of examina
tion the doctrine which it enforced.
Accordingly I entered into a thorough
searching of the Scripture without bias,
and was amazed to find how baseless was
the tenet for which in fact I had endured
a sort of martyrdom. This, I believe,
had a great effect in showing me how
little right we have at any time to count
on our opinions as final truth, however
necessary they may just then be felt to
our spiritual life. I was also scandalised
to find how little candour or discernment
some Evangelical friends with whom I
communicated displayed in discussing
the subject.
In fact, this opened to me a large
sphere of new thought. In the investiga
tion I had learned, more distinctly than
before, that the preceptive code of the
Law was an essentially imperfect and
temporary system, given “ for the hard
ness of men’s hearts.” I was thus
prepared to enter into the lectures on
prophecy by another Oriel Fellow—
Mr. Davison—in which he traces the
successive improvements and develop
ments of religious doctrine, from the
patriarchal system onward. I in conse
quence enjoyed with new zest the
epistles of St. Paul, which I read as with
fresh eyes, and now understood some
what better his whole doctrine of “the
Spirit,” the coming of which had brought
the Church out of her childish into a
i7
mature condition, and by establishing a
higher law had abolished that of the
letter. Into this view I entered with so
eager an interest that I felt no bondage
of the letter in Paul’s own words; his
wisdom was too much above me to allow
free criticism of his wreak points. At
the same time, the systematic use of the
Old Testament by the Puritans, as if it
were “ the rule of life ” to Christians,
I saw to be a glaring mistake, intensely
opposed to the Pauline doctrine. This
discovery, moreover, soon became
important to me, as furnishing a ready
evasion of objections against the meagre
or puerile views of the Pentateuch; for,
without very minute inquiry how far I
must go to make the defence adequate,
I gave a general reply, that the New
Testament confessed the imperfections
of the older dispensation. I still pre
sumed the Old to have been perfect for
its own objects and in its own place ;
and had not defined to myself how far it
was correct or absurd to imagine
morality to change with time and
circumstances.
Before long, ground was broken in my
mind on a still more critical question by
another Fellow of a college, who main
tained that nothing but unbelief could
arise out of the attempt to under
stand in what way and by what moral
right the blood of Christ atoned for sins.
He said that he bowed before the
doctrine as one of “revelation,” and
accepted it reverentially by an act of
faith, but that he certainly felt unable to
understand why the sacrifice of Christ,
any more than the Mosaic sacrifices,
should compensate for the punishment
of our sins. Could carnal reason discern
that human or divine blood, any more
than that of beasts, had efficacy to make
the sinner, as it were, sinless ? It
appeared to him a necessarily inscrutable
mystery, into which we ought not to
look. The matter being thus forced on
my attention, I certainly saw that to
establish the abstract moral right and
justice of vicarious punishment was not
easy, and that to make out the fact of
�i8
MY YOUTHFUL CREED
any “compensation” (/.<?., that Jesus and if he failed, then who was likely to
really endured on the cross a true succeed? The arguments from Scrip
equivalent for the eternal sufferings due ture had never recommended them
to the whole human race) was harder selves to me. Even allowing that they
still. Nevertheless, I had difficulty in might confirm, they certainly could not
adopting the conclusions of this gentle suggest and establish, the practice. It
man—first, because, in a passage of the now appeared that there was no basis at
Epistle to the Hebrews, the sacred writer, all; indeed, several of the arguments
in arguing “Tw- it is impossible that the struck me as cutting the other way.
blood of bulls and goats can take “ Suffer little children to come unto me ”
away sins,” etc., etc., seems to expect was urged as decisive; but it occurred
his readers to see an inherent impro to me that the disciples would not have
priety in the sacrifices of the Law, and scolded the little children away if they
an inherent moral fitness in the sacrifice had ever been accustomed to baptise
of Christ; secondly, I had always been them. Wall also, if I remember aright,
accustomed to hear that it was by seeing declares that the children of proselytes
the moral fitness of the doctrine of the were baptised by the Jews, and deduces
Atonement that converts to Christianity that, unless the contrary were stated, we
were chiefly made—so said the Mora must assume that also Christ’s disciples
vians among the Greenlanders, so baptised children; but I reflected that
Brainerd among the North American the baptism of fohn was one of “repen
Indians, so English missionaries among tance,” and therefore could not have
the negroes at Sierra Leone—and I been administered to infants ; which (if
could not at all renounce this idea. precedent is to guide us) afforded the
Indeed, I seemed to myself to see this truer presumption concerning Christian
fitness most emphatically; and as for baptism. Prepossessions being thus
the forensic difficulties, I passed them overthrown, when I read the Apostolic
over with a certain conscious reverence. epistles with a view to this special
I was not as yet ripe for deeper inquiry; question, the proof so multiplied against
yet I, about this time, decidedly modified the Church doctrine that I did not see
my boyish creed on the subject, on what was left to be said for it. I talked
which more will be said below.
much and freely of this, as of most other
Of more immediate practical impor topics, with equals in age who took
tance to me was the controversy con interest in religious questions; but the
cerning infant baptism. For several more the matters were discussed, the
years together I had been more or less more decidedly impossible it seemed to
conversant with the arguments adduced maintain that the popular Church views
for the practice; and at this time I read were Apostolic.
Wall’s defence of it, which was the book
Here also, as before, the Evangelical
specially recommended at Oxford. The clergy whom I consulted were found by
perusal brought to a head the doubts me a broken reed. The clerical friend
which had at an earlier period flitted whom I had known at school wrote
over my mind. Wall’s historical attempt kindly to me, but quite declined
to trace infant baptism up to the attempting to solve my doubts ; and in
Apostles seemed to me a clear failure / other quarters I soon saw that no fresh
light was to be got. One person there
1 It was not until many years later that I was at Oxford who might have seemed
became aware that unbiassed ecclesiastical my natural adviser ; his name, character,
historians, as Neander and others, while approv and religious peculiarities have been
ing of the practice of infant baptism, freely
concede that it is not Apostolic. Let this fact
be my defence against critics who snarl at me
for having dared, at that age, to come to any
conclusion on such a subject. But, in fact, the
subscriptions compel young men to it.
�MY YOUTHFUL CREED
so made public property that I need not
shrink to name him—I mean my eider
brother, the Rev. John Henry Newman.
As a warm-hearted and generous brother,
who exercised towards me paternal cares,
I esteemed him and felt a deep grati
tude ; as a man of various culture and
peculiar genius, I admired and was
proud of him ; but my doctrinal religion
impeded my loving him as much as he
deserved, and even justified my feeling
some distrust of him. He never showed
any strong attraction towards those whom
I regarded as spiritual persons ; on the
contrary, I thought him stiff and cold
towards them. Moreover, soon after his
ordination he had startled and distressed
me by adopting the doctrine of bap
tismal regeneration, and in rapid succes
sion worked out views which I regarded
as full-blown “ Popery.” I speak of the
years 1823-26; it is strange to think that
twenty years more had to pass before he
learnt the place to which his doctrines
belonged.
In the earliest period of my Oxford
residence- I fell into uneasy collision
with him concerning episcopal powers.
I had on one occasion dropped some
thing disrespectful against bishops or a
bishop—something which, if it had been
said about a clergyman, would have
passed unnoticed; but my brother
checked and reproved me—as I thought,
very uninstructively—for “wanting rever
ence towards bishops.” I knew not
then, and I know not now, why bishops,
as szich, should be more reverenced than
common clergymen; or clergymen, as
such, more than common men. In the
world I expected pomp and vain show
and formality and counterfeits ; but of
the Church, as Christ’s own kingdom, I
demanded reality, and could not digest
legal fictions. I saw round me what
sort of young men were preparing to be
clergymen; I knew the attractions of
family “ livings ” and fellowships, and of
a respectable position and undefinable
hopes of preferment. I farther knew
that, when youths had become clergymen
through a great variety of mixed motives,
i9
bishops were selected out of these clergy
on avowedly political grounds ; it there
fore amazed me how a man of good
sense should be able to set up a duty of
religious veneration towards bishops. I
was willing to honour a lord bishop as a
peer of Parliament, but his office was to
me no guarantee of spiritual eminence.
To find my brother thus stop my mouth
was a puzzle, and impeded all free
speech towards him. In fact, I very
soon left off the attempt at intimate
religious intercourse with him, or asking
counsel as of one who could sympathise.
We talked, indeed, a great deal on the
surface of religious matters, and on
some questions I was overpowered, and
received a temporary bias from his
superior knowledge ; but as time went
on, and my own intellect ripened, I
distinctly felt that his arguments were
too fine-drawn and subtle, often
elaborately missing the moral points and
the main points, to rest on some eccle
siastical fiction; and his conclusions were
to me so marvellous and painful that I
constantly thought I had mistaken him.
In short, he was my senior by a very few
years; nor was there any elder resident
at Oxford accessible to me who united
all the qualities which I wanted in an
adviser. Nothing was left for me but
to cast myself on Him who is named
the Father of Lights, and resolve to
follow the light which He might give,
however opposed to my own prejudices,
and however I might be condemned by
men. This solemn engagement I made
in early youth, and neither the frowns
nor the grief of my brethren can make
me ashamed of it in my manhood.
Among the religious authors whom I
read familiarly was the Rev. T. Scott, of
Aston Sandford, a rather dull, very
unoriginal, half-educated, but honest,
worthy, sensible, strong-minded man,
whose works were then much in vogue
among the Evangelicals. One day my
attention was arrested by a sentence in
his defence of the doctrine of the
Trinity. He complained that Anti
Trinitarians unjustly charged Trinitarians
�20
MY YOUTHFUL CREED
with self-contradiction. “ If, indeed, we
said ” (argued he) “ that God is three in
the same sense as that in which He is
one, that would be self-refuting; but we
hold Him to be three in one sense, and
one in another." It crossed my mind
very forcibly that, if that was all, the
Athanasian Creed had gratuitously in
vented an enigma. I exchanged thoughts
on this with an undergraduate friend,
and got no fresh light; in fact, I feared
to be profane if I attempted to under
stand the subject. Yet it came dis
tinctly home to me that, whatever the
depth of the mystery, if we lay down
anything about it at all, we ought to
understand our own words; and I pre
sently augured that Tillotson had been
right in “ wishing our Church well rid ”
of the Athanasian Creed, which seemed
a mere offensive blurting out of intel
lectual difficulties. I had, however, no
doubts, even of a passing kind, for years
to come concerning the substantial
truth and certainty of the ecclesiastical
Trinity.
When the period arrived for taking
my Bachelor’s degree, it was requisite
again to sign the Thirty-nine Articles,
and I now found myself embarrassed by
the question of infant baptism. One of
the Articles contains the following words:
“ The baptism of young children is in
any wise to be retained, as most agree
able to the institution of Christ.” I was
unable to conceal from myself that I did
not believe this sentence, and I was on
the point of refusing to take my degree.
I overcame my scruples by considering
(i) that concerning this doctrine I had
no active ffA-belief on which I would
take any practical step, as I felt myself
too young to make any counter-declara
tion ; (2) that it had no possible practi
cal meaning to me, since I could not be
Called on to baptise, nor to give a child
for baptism. Thus I persuaded myself.
Yet I had not an easy conscience, nor
can I now defend my compromise, for I
believe that my repugnance to infant
baptism was really intense, and my
conviction that it is un-Apostolic as
strong then as now. The topic, of my
“ youth ” was irrelevant, for, if I was not
too young to subscribe, I was not too
young to refuse subscription. The argu
ment, that the Article was “ unpractical ”
to me goes to prove that, if I were
ordered by a despot to qualify myself for
a place in the Church by solemnly
renouncing the first book of Euclid as
false, I might do so without any loss of
moral dignity. Altogether, this humi
liating affair showed me what a trap for
the conscience these subscriptions are;
how comfortably they are passed while
the intellect is torpid or immature, or
where the conscience is callous, but
how they undermine truthfulness in the
active thinker, and torture the sensitive
ness of the tender-minded. As long as
they are maintained, in Church or uni
versity, these institutions exert a positive
influence to deprave or eject those who
ought to be their most useful and
honoured members.
It was already breaking upon me that
I could not fulfil the dreams of my boy
hood as a minister in the Church of
England. For, supposing that with
increased knowledge I might arrive at
the conclusion that infant baptism
was a fore-arranged “development,” not
indeed practised in the first generation,
but expedient, justifiable, and intended
for the second, and probably then
sanctioned by one still living apostle—even so, I foresaw the still greater diffi
culty of baptismal regeneration behind.
For anyone to avow that regeneration
took place in baptism seemed to me
little short of a confession that he had
never himself experienced what regenera
tion is. If I could then have been con
vinced that the Apostles taught no other
regeneration, I almost think that even
their authority would have snapped
under the strain ; but this is idle theory,
for it was as clear as daylight to me that
they held a totally different doctrine,
and that the High Church and Popish
fancy is a superstitious perversion, based
upon carnal inability to understand a
strong spiritual metaphor. On the other
�MY YOUTHFUL CREED
hand, my brother’s arguments that the
Baptismal Service of the Church taught
“ spiritual regeneration ” during the ordi
nance were short, simple, and over
whelming. To imagine a twofold
“spiritual regeneration” was evidently
a hypothesis to serve a turn, nor in
any of the Church formulas was such an
idea broached; nor could I hope for
relief by searching through the Homilies
or by drawing deductions from the
Articles, for, if I there elicited a truer
doctrine, it would never show the
Baptismal Service not to teach the
Popish tenet—it would merely prove
the Church system to contain contra
dictions, and not to deserve that abso
lute declaration of its truth which is
demanded of Church ministers. With
little hope of advantage, I yet felt it a
duty to consult many of the Evangelical
clergymen whom 1 knew, and to ask
how they reconciled the Baptismal
Service to their consciences. I found
(if I remember) three separate theories
among them, all evidently mere shifts
invented to avoid the disagreeable
necessity of resigning their functions.
Not one of these good people seemed to
have the most remote idea that it was
their duty to investigate the meaning
of the formulary with the same unbiassed
simplicity as if it belonged to the
Gallican Church. They did not seek to
know what it was written to mean, nor
what sense it must carry to every simpleminded hearer ; but they solely asked
how they could manage to assign to it a
sense not wholly irreconcilable with their
own doctrines and preaching. This was
too obviously hollow. The last gentle
man whom I consulted was the rector of
a parish, who from week to week
baptised children with the prescribed
formula; but, to my amazement, he told
me that he did not like the service, and
did not approve of infant baptism, to
both of which things he submitted solely
because, as an inferior minister of the
Church, it was his duty to obey estab
lished authority! The case was desperate.
But I may here add that this clergy
21
man, within a few years from that time,
redeemed his freedom and his con
science by the painful ordeal of abandon
ing his position and his flock, against
the remonstrances of his wife, to the
annoyance of his friends, and with a
young family about him.
Let no reader accept the preceding
paragraph as my testimony that the
Evangelical clergy are less simple-minded
and less honourable in their subscriptions
than the High Church. I do not say,
and I do not believe, this. All who
subscribe labour under a common diffi
culty in having to give an absolute assent
to formulas that were made by a com
promise, and are not homogeneous in
character. To the High Churchman, the
Articles are a difficulty; to the Low
Churchman, various parts of the Liturgy.
All have to do violence to some portion
of the system ; and, considering at how
early an age they are entrapped into sub
scription, they all deserve our sincere
sympathy and very ample allowance as
long as they are pleading for the rights
of conscience. Only when they become
overbearing, dictatorial, proud of their
chains, and desirous of ejecting others,
does it seem right to press them with the
topic of inconsistency. There is, besides,
in the ministry of the Established Church
a sprinkling of original minds who cannot
be included in either of the two great
divisions; and from these a priori one
might have hoped much good to the
Church. But such persons no sooner
speak out than the two hostile parties
hush their strife in order the more effec
tually to overwhelm with just and unjust
imputations those who dare to utter truth
that has not yet been consecrated by Act
of Parliament or by Church Councils.
Among those who have subscribed, to
attack others is easy, to defend oneself
most arduous. Recrimination is the
only powerful weapon, and noble minds
are ashamed to use this. No hope,
therefore, shows itself of reform from
within. For myself, I feel that nothing
saved me from the infinite distresses
which I should have encountered had I
�22
MY YOUTHFUL CREED
become a minister of the Episcopal
Church, but the very unusual premature
ness of my religious development.
Besides the great subject of baptismal
regeneration, the entire episcopal theory
and practice offended me. How little
favourably I was impressed when a boy
by the lawn sleeves, wig, artificial voice
and manner of the Bishop of London, I
have already said; but in six years more
reading and observation had intensely
confirmed my first auguries. It was
clear beyond denial that for a century
after the death of Edward VI. the bishops
were the tools of Court bigotry, and often
owed their highest promotions to base
subservience. After the Revolution, the
episcopal order (on a rough and general
view) might be described as a body of
supine persons, known to the public only
as a dead weight against all change that
was distasteful to the Government. In
the last century and a half the nation
was often afflicted with sensual royalty,
bloody wars, venal statesmen, corrupt
constituencies, bribery and violence at
elections, flagitious drunkenness pervad
ing all ranks and insinuating itself into
colleges and rectories. The prisons of
the country had been in a most disgrace
ful state ; the fairs and waits were scenes
of rude debauchery, and the theatres
were—still, in this nineteenth century—
whispered to be haunts of the most
debasing immorality. I could not learn
that any bishop had ever taken the lead
in denouncing these iniquities ; nor that,
when any man or class of men rose to
denounce them, the episcopal order
failed to throw itself into the breach to
defend corruption by at least passive
resistance. Neither Howard, Wesley
and Whitfield, nor yet Clarkson, Wilber
force, or Romilly, could boast of the
episcopal bench as an ally against in
human or immoral practices. Our oppres
sions in India, and our sanction to the
most cruel superstitions of the natives,
led to no outcry from the bishops. Under
their patronage the two old societies of
the Church had gone to sleep until
aroused by the Church Missionary and
Bible Societies, which were opposed by
the bishops. Their policy seemed to be
to do nothing until somebody else was
likely to do it; upon which they at last
joined the movement in order to damp
its energy and get some credit from it.
Now what were bishops for but to be
the originators and energetic organs of
all pious and good works? And what
were they in the House of Lords for if
not to set a higher tone of purity, justice,
and truth ? And if they never did this,
but weighed down those who attempted
it, was not that a condemnation—not,
perhaps, of all possible episcopacy, but
of episcopacy as it exists in England ?
If such a thing as a moral argument for
Christianity was admitted as valid, surely
the above was a moral argument against
English prelacy. It was, moreover,
evident at a glance that this system of
ours neither was, nor could have been,
Apostolic ; for, as long as the civil power
was hostile to the Church, a lord bishop
nominated by the civil ruler was an impos
sibility ; and this it is which determines
the moral and spiritual character of the
English institution, not indeed exclu
sively, but pre-eminently,
I still feel amazement at the only
defence which (as far as I know) the
pretended followers of antiquity make for
the nomination of bishops by the Crown.
In the third and fourth centuries it is
well known that every new bishop was
elected by the universal suffrage of the
laity of the Church, and it is to these
centuries that the High Episcopalians
love to appeal, because they can quote
thence out of Cyprian1 and others in
favour of episcopal authority. When I
alleged the dissimilarity in the mode of
election as fatal to this argument in the
1 I remember reading about that time a
sentence in one of his Epistles, in which this
same Cyprian, the earliest mouthpiece of “ proud
prelacy,” claims for the populace supreme right
of deposing an unworthy bishop. I quote the
words from memory, and do not know the
reference. “ Plebs summam habet potestatem
episcopos seu dignos eligendi seu indignos
detrudendi.”
�MY YOUTHFUL CREED
mouth of an English High Churchman,
I was told that “ the Crown now
represents the laity ” ! Such a fiction
may be satisfactory to a pettifogging
lawyer, but as the basis of a spiritual
system is indeed supremely contemptible.
With these considerations on my mind
—while quite aware that some of the
bishops were good and valuable men—I
could not help feeling that it would be a
perfect misery to me to have to address
one of them taken at random as my
“ Right Reverend Father in God,” which
seemed like a foul hypocrisy ; and when
I remembered who had said, “ Call no
man Father on earth, for one is your
Father, who is in heaven ”—words which,
not merely in the letter, but still more
distinctly in the spirit, forbid the state of
feeling which suggested this episcopal
appellation—it did appear to me as if
“Prelacy” had been rightly coupled by
the Scotch Puritans with “Popery” as
anti-Christian.
Connected inseparably with this was
the form of ordination, which, the more
I thought of it, seemed the more
offensively and outrageously Popish, and
quite opposed to the Article on the same
subject. In the Article I read that we
were to regard such to be legitimate
ministers of the word as had been duly
appointed to this work by those who have
public authority for the same. It was
evident to me that this very wide phrase
was adapted and intended to comprehend
the “ public authorities ” of all the
Reformed Churches, and could never
have been selected by one who wished
to narrow the idea of a legitimate
minister to episcopalian orders ; besides
that we know Lutheran and Calvinistic
ministers to have been actually admitted
in the early times of the Reformed
English Church by the force of that very
Article. To this, the only genuine
Protestant view of a church, I gave my
most cordial adherence; but when I
turned to the Ordination Service I found
the bishop there, by his authoritative
voice, absolutely to bestow on the
candidate for priesthood the power to
23
forgive or retain sins !—“ Receive ye the
Holy Ghost! Whose sins ye forgive,
they are forgiven; whose sins ye retain,
they are retained.” If the bishop really
had this power, he of course had it only
as bishop—that is, by his consecration ;
thus it was formally transmitted. To
allow this, vested in all the Romish
bishops a spiritual power of the highest
order, and denied the legitimate priest
hood in nearly all the Continental
Protestant Churches—a doctrine irrecon
cilable with the article just referred to,
and intrinsically to me incredible. That
an unspiritual—and, it may be, a wicked
—man, who can have no pure insight
into devout and penitent hearts, and no
communion with the source of holy
discernment, could never receive by an
outward form the divine power to forgive
or retain sins, or the power of bestowing
this power, was to me then, as now, as
clear and certain as any possible first
axiom. Yet, if the bishop had not this
power, how profane was the pretension !
Thus again I came into rude collision
with English prelacy.
The year after taking my degree I
made myself fully master of Paley’s
acute and original treatise, the Horce
Paulina, and realised the whole life of
Paul as never before. This book greatly
enlarged my mind as to the resources of
historical criticism. Previously my sole
idea of criticism was that of the direct
discernment of style; but I now began
to understand what powerful argument
rose out of combinations, and the very
complete establishment which this work
gives to the narrative concerning Paul in
the latter half of the Acts appeared
to me to reflect critical honour1 on the
whole New Testament. In the epistles
of this great Apostle, notwithstanding
their argumentative difficulties, I found
1 A critic absurdly complains that I do not
account for this. Account for what? I still
hold the authenticity of nearly all the Pauline
epistles, and that the Pauline Acts are compiled
from some valuable source, from chap. xiii.
onward ; but it was gratuitous to infer that this
could accredit the four gospels.
�24
MY YOUTHFUL CREED
a moral reality and a depth of wisdom
perpetually growing upon me with
acquaintance, in contrast to which I was
conscious that I made no progress in
understanding the four gospels. Their
first impression had been their strongest,
and their difficulties remained as fixed
blocks in my way. Was this possibly
because Paul is a reasoner? I asked—
hence, with the cultivation of my under
standing, I have entered more easily into
the heart of his views—while Christ
enunciates divine truth dogmatically;
consequently insight is needed to under
stand him ? On the contrary, however,
it seemed to me that the doctrinal
difficulties of the gospels depend chiefly
either on obscure metaphor or on
apparent incoherence; and I timidly
asked a friend whether the dislocation of
the discourses of Christ by the narrators
may not be one reason why they are
often obscure; for, on comparing Luke
with Matthew, it appears that we cannot
deny occasional dislocation. If at this
period a German divinity professor had
been lecturing at Oxford, or German
books had been accessible to me, it
might have saved me long peregrinations
of body and mind.
About this time I had also begun to
think that the old writers called Fathers
deserved but a small fraction of the
reverence which is awarded to them. I
had been strongly urged to read
Chrysostom’s work on the Priesthood
by one . who regarded it as a suitable
preparation for holy orders, and I did
read it. But I not only thought it
inflated and without moral depth, but,
what was far worse, I encountered in it
an elaborate defence of falsehood in the
cause of the Church, and generally of
deceit in any good cause.1 I rose from
1 He argues from the Bible that a victory
gained by deceit is more to be esteemed than one
obtained by force; and that, provided the end
aimed at be good, we ought not to call it deceit,
but a sort of admirable management. A learned
friend informs me that in his 45th Homily on
Genesis this Father, in his zeal to vindicate
Scriptural characters at any cost, goes further
still in immorally. My friend adds: “It is
the treatise in disgust, and for the first
time sympathised with Gibbon, and
augured that if he had spoken with
moral indignation, instead of pompous
sarcasm, against the frauds of the ancient
“bathers,” his blows would have fallen
far more heavily on Christianity itself.
I also, with much effort and no profit,
read the Apostolic Fathers. Of these
Clement alone seemed to me respectable,
and even he to write only what I could
myself have written, with Paul and Peter
to serve as a model. But for Barnabas
and Hermas I felt a contempt so
profound that I could hardly believe
them genuine. On the whole, this
reading greatly exalted my sense of the
unapproachable greatness1 of the New
Testament. The moral chasm between
it and the very earliest Christian writers
seemed to me so vast as only to be
accounted for by the doctrine in which
all spiritual men (as I thought) unhesita
tingly agreed—that the New Testament
was dictated by the immediate action of
the Holy Spirit. The infatuation of
those who, after this, rested on the
Councils was to me unintelligible. Thus
the Bible in its simplicity became only
the more all-ruling to my judgment,
because I could find no Articles, no
Church Decrees, and no Apostolic
individual, whose rule over my under
standing or conscience I could bear.
Such may be conveniently regarded as
the first period of my Creed.
really frightful to reflect to what guidance the
moral sentiment of mankind was committed for
many ages : Chrysostom is usually considered
one of the best of the Fathers.”
1 I thought that the latter part of this book
would sufficiently show how and why I now need
to modify this sentiment. I now see the doctrine
of the Atonement, especially as expounded in
the Epistle to the Hebrews, to deserve no
honour. I see false interpretations of the Old
Testament to be dogmatically proposed in the
New. I see the moral teaching concerning
Patriotism, Property, Slavery, Marriage, Science,
and indirectly Fine Art, to be essentially defec
tive, and the threats against unbelief to be a
pernicious immorality. See also p. 64. Why
will critics use my frankly-stated juvenile
opinions as a stone to pelt me with ?
�STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
25
Chapter II.
STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
My second period is characterised partly
by the great ascendency exercised over
me by one powerful mind and still more
powerful will, partly by the vehement
effort which throughout its duration
urged me to long after the establishment
of Christian fellowship in a purely
Biblical Church as the first great want
of Christendom and of the world.
I was already uneasy in the sense that
I could not enter the ministry of the
Church of England, and knew not what
course of life to choose. I longed to
become a missionary for Christ among
the heathen—a notion I had often
fostered while reading the lives of
missionaries ; but again I saw not how
that was to be effected. After taking
my degree I became a Fellow of Balliol
College, and the next year I accepted an
invitation to Ireland, and there became
private tutor for fifteen months in the
house of one now deceased, whose name
I would gladly mention for honour and
affection—but I withhold my pen.
While he repaid me munificently for my
services, he behaved towards me as a
father, or indeed as an elder brother,
and instantly made me feel as a member
of his family. His great talents, high
professional standing, nobleness of heart,
and unfeigned piety would have made
him a most valuable counsellor to me ;
but he was too gentle, too unassuming,
too modest ; he looked to be taught by
his juniors, and sat at the feet of one
whom I proceed to describe.
This was a young relative of his—a
most remarkable man—who rapidly
gained an immense sway over me. I
shall henceforth call him “the Irish
clergyman.” His “ bodily presence ”
was indeed “ weak.” A fallen cheek, a
bloodshot eye, crippled limbs resting on
crutches, a seldom shaven beard, a
shabby suit of clothes, and a generally
neglected person, drew at first pity, with
wonder to see such a figure in a drawing
room. It was currently reported that a
person in Limerick offered him a half
penny, mistaking him for a beggar; and
if not true, the story was yet well
invented. This young man had taken
high honours in Dublin University and
had studied for the bar, where, under
the auspices of his eminent kinsman, he
had excellent prospects; but his con
science would not allow him to take a
brief, lest he should be selling his talents
to defeat justice. With keen logical
powers, he had warm sympathies, solid
judgment of character, thoughtful tender
ness, and total self-abandonment. He
before long took holy orders, and
became an indefatigable curate in the
mountains of Wicklow. Every evening
he sallied forth to teach in the cabins,
and, roving far and wide over mountain
and amid bogs, was seldom home before
midnight. By such exertions his strength
was undermined, and he so suffered in
his limbs that not lameness only, but yet
more serious results, were feared. He
did not fast on purpose, but his long walks
through wild country and among indigent
people inflicted on him much severe
deprivation ; moreover, as he ate whatever
food offered itself—food unpalatable and
often indigestible to him—his whole
frame might have vied in emaciation
with a monk of La Trappe.
Such a phenomenon intensely excited
the poor Romanists, who looked on him
as a genuine “ saint ” of the ancient
breed. The stamp of heaven seemed to
them clear in a frame so wasted by
austerity, so superior to worldly pomp,
and so partaking in all their indigence.
�26
ST/?IVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
That a dozen such men would have done man so resolved that no word of it
more to convert all Ireland to Protestant should be a dead letter to him. I once
ism than the whole apparatus of the said : “ But do you really think that no
Church Establishment was ere long my part of the New Testament may have
conviction, though I was at first offended been temporary in its object ? For
by his apparent affectation of a mean instance, what should we have lost if
exterior. But I soon understood that in St Paul had never written the verse,
no other way could he gain equal access ‘The cloak which I have left at Troas
to the lower and lowest orders, and that bring with thee, and the books, but
he was moved not by asceticism, nor by especially the parchments ’ ? ”
He
ostentation, but by a self-abandonment answered with the greatest promptitude :
fruitful of consequences. He had practi “Ashould certainly have lost something,
cally given up all reading except that of for that is exactly the verse which alone
the Bible, and no small part of his saved me from selling my little library.
movement towards me soon took the No ! every word, depend upon it, is from
form of dissuasion from all other the Spirit, and is for eternal service.”
voluntary study.
A political question was just then
In fact, I had myself more and more exceedingly agitating Ireland, in which
concentrated my religious reading on nearly everybody took a great interest—
this one book; still, I could not help it was the propriety of admitting
feeling the value of a cultivated mind. Romanist members of Parliament.
Against this my new eccentric friend, Those who were favourable to the
himself having enjoyed no mean advan measure generally advocated it by trying
tages of cultivation, directed his keenest to undervalue the chasm that separates
attacks. I remember once saying to him, Romish from Protestant doctrine. By
in defence of worldly station : “ To desire such arguments they exceedingly exas
to be rich is unchristian and absurd, but perated the real Protestants, and, in
if I were the father of children I should common with all around me, I totally
wish to be rich enough to secure them a repudiated that ground of comprehension.
good education.’' He replied : “ If I But I could not understand why a
had children, I would as soon see them broader, more generous, and every way
break stones on the road as do anything safer argument was not dwelt on—viz.,
else, if only I could secure to them the the unearthliness of the claims of Chris
Gospel and the grace of God.” I was tianity. When Paul was preaching the
unable to say Amen, but I admired his kingdom of God in the Roman Empire,
unflinching consistency, for now, as if a malicious enemy had declared to a
always, all he said was based on texts Roman proconsul that the Christians
aptly quoted and logically enforced. were conspiring to eject all Pagans out
He more and more made me ashamed of the senate and out of the public
of political economy and moral administration, who can doubt what
philosophy, and all science; all of Paul would have replied ?—The kingdom
which ought to be “counted dross for of God is not of this world ; it is within
the. excellency of the knowledge of the heart, and consists in righteousness,
Christ Jesus our Lord.” For the first peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.
time in my life I saw a man earnestly These are our “ honours ” from God ; we
turning into reality the principles which ask not the honours of empire and title.
others confessed with their lips only. Our King is in heaven, and will in time
That the words of the New Testament return to bring to an end these earthly
contained the highest truth accessible to kingdoms ; but until then we claim no
man—truth not to be taken from nor superiority over you on earth. As the
added to—all good men, as I thought, riches of this world, so the powers of
confessed ; never before had I seen a this world belong to another king; we
�STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
dare not try to appropriate them in the
name of our heavenly King ; nay, we
should hold it as great a sin to clutch
empire for our churches as to clutch
wealth ; God forbid that we covet either !
—But what then if the enemy had had
foresight to reply, O proconsul, this Paul
talks finely, and perhaps sincerely; but
if so, yet cheat not yourself to think that
his followers will tie themselves to his
mild equity and disinterestedness. Now
indeed they are weak; now they profess
unworldliness and unambition ; they
wish only to be recognised as peaceable
subjects, as citizens and as equals ; but if
once they grow strong enough they will
discover that their spears and swords are
the symbol of their Lord’s return from
heaven; that He now at length com
missions them to eject you, as vile
infidels, from all seats of power—to slay
you with the sword if you dare to offer
sacrifice to the immortal gods—to degrade
you so that you shall not only not
enter the senate, or the privy council of
the prince, or the judgment seat, but not
even the jury-box, or a municipal corpora
tion, or the pettiest edileship of Italy ;
nay, you shall not be lieutenants of
armies, or tribunes, or anything above
the lowest centurion. You shall become
a plebeian class—cheap bodies to be
exposed in battle or to toil in the field,
and pay rent to the lordly Christian.
Such shall be the fate of you, the
worshippers of Quirinus and of Jupiter
Best and Greatest, if you neglect to
crush and extirpate, during the weakness
of its infancy, this ambitious and unscru
pulous portent of a religion.-—Oh, how
would Paul have groaned in spirit at
accusations such as these, hateful to his
soul, aspersing to his churches, but
impossible to refute 1 Either Paul’s
doctrine was a fond dream, felt I, or
it is certain that he would have protested
with all the force of his heart against the
principle that Christians as such have any
claim to earthly power and place; or
that they could, when they gained a
numerical majority, without sin enact
laws to punish, stigmatise, exclude, or
27
otherwise treat with political inferiority
the Pagan remnant. To uphold such
exclusion is to lay the axe to the root of
the spiritual Church, to stultify the
Apostolic preaching, and at this moment
justify Mohammedans in persecuting
Christians. For the Sultan might fairly
say: “ I give Christians the choice of
exile or death ; I will not allow that sect
to grow up here, for it has fully warned
me that it will proscribe my religion in
my own land as soon as it has power.”
On such grounds I looked with amaze
ment and sorrow at spiritual Christians
who desired to exclude the Romanists
from full equality, and I was happy to
enjoy as to this the passive assent of the
Irish clergyman, who, though “ Orange ”
in his connections, and opposed to
all political action, yet only so much
the more deprecated what he called
“ political Protestantism.”
In spite of the strong revulsion which
I felt against some of the peculiarities of
this remarkable man, I for the first time
in my life found myself under the
dominion of a superior. When I
remember how even those bowed down
before him, who had been to him in
the place of parents—accomplished and
experienced minds—I cease to wonder
in the retrospect that he riveted me in
such a bondage. Henceforth I began
to ask, What will he say to this and that ?
In his reply I always expected to find a
higher portion of God’s Spirit than in
any I could frame for myself. In order
to learn divine truth it became to me a
surer process to consult him than to
search for myself and wait upon God ;
and gradually (as I afterwards discerned)
my religious thought had merged into
the mere process of developing fearlessly
into results all his principles, without any
deeper examining of my foundations.
Indeed, but for a few weaknesses which
warned me that he might err, I could
have accepted him as an apostle com
missioned to reveal the mind of God,
In his after-course (which I may not
indicate) this gentleman has everywhere
displayed a wonderful power of bending
�28
STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
other minds to his own, and even
stamping upon them the tones of his
voice and all sorts of slavish imitation.
Over the general results of his action I
have long deeply mourned, as blunting
his natural tenderness and sacrificing his
wisdom to the letter, dwarfing men’s
understandings, contracting their hearts,
crushing their moral sensibilities, and
setting those at variance who ought to
love. Yet oh ! how specious was it in
the beginning ! He only wanted men “ to
submit their understandings to God"—
that is, to the Bible; that is, to his inter
pretation ! From seeing his action and
influence I have learnt that, if it be
dangerous to a young man (as it
assuredly is) to have no superior mind
to which he may look up with confiding
reverence, it may be even more danger
ous to think that he has found such a
mind; for he who is most logically
consistent, though to a one-sided theory,
and most ready to sacrifice self to that
theory, seems to ardent youth the most
assuredly trustworthy guide. Such was
Ignatius Loyola in his day.
My study of the New Testament at
this time had made it impossible for me
to overlook that the Apostles held it to
be a duty of all disciples to expect a near
and sudden destruction of the earth by
fire, and constantly to be expecting the
return of the Lord from heaven. It was
easy to reply that “experience dis
proved ” this expectation; but to this
an answer was ready provided in Peter’s
Second Epistle, which forewarns us that
we shall be taunted by the unbelieving
with this objection, but bids us, neverthe
less, continue to look out for the speedy
fulfilment of this great event. In short,
the case stood thus :—If it was not too
soon 1800 years ago to stand in daily
expectation of it, it is not too soon now;
to say that it is too late is not merely to
impute error to the Apostles on a matter
which they made of first-rate moral
importance, but is to say that those
whom Peter calls “ ungodly scoffers,
walking after their own lusts,” were
right, and he was wrong, on the very
point for which he thus vituperated
them.
The importance of this doctrine is,
that it totally forbids all working for
earthly objects distant in time ; and here
the Irish clergyman threw into the same
scale the entire weight of his character.
For instance, if a youth had a natural
aptitude for mathematics, and he asked,
Ought he to give himself to the study, in
hope that he might diffuse a serviceable
knowledge of it, or possibly even enlarge
the boundaries of the science ? my
friend would have replied that such a
purpose was very proper, if entertained
by a worldly man. Let the dead bury
their dead, and let the world study the
things of the world ; they know no better,
and they are of use to the Church, who
may borrow and use the jewels of the
Egyptians. But such studies cannot be
eagerly followed by the Christian, except
when he yields to unbelief. In fact,
what would it avail even to become a
second La Place after thirty years’ study
if in five and thirty years the Lord
descended from heaven, snatched up all
his saints to meet him, and burned to
ashes all the works of the earth ? Then
all the mathematician’s work would have
perished, and he would grieve over his
unwisdom, in laying up store which
could not stand the fire of the Lord.
Clearly, if we are bound to act as though
the end of all earthly concerns may
come “at cockcrowing or at midday,”
then to work for distant earthly objects
is the part of a fool or of an unbeliever.
I found a wonderful dulness in many
persons on this important subject.
Wholly careless to ask what was the
true Apostolic doctrine, they insisted
that “ Death is to us practically the
coming of the Lord,” and were amazed
at my seeing so much emphasis in the
other view. This comes of the abomin
able selfishness preached as religion. If
I were to labour at some useful work for
ten years—say at clearing forest-land,
laying out a farm, and building a house
—and were then to die, I should leave
my work to my successors, and it would
�STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
not be lost. Some men work for higher,
some for lower, earthly ends (“ in a great
house there are many vessels,” etc.) ; but
all the results are valuable, if there is a
chance of transmitting them to those
who follow us. But if all is to be very
shortly burnt up, it is then folly to exert
ourselves for such objects. To the dead
man, it is said, the cases are but one.
This is to the purpose, if self absorbs all
our heart; away from the purpose, if
we are to work for unselfish ends.
Nothing can be clearer than that the
New Testament is entirely pervaded by
the doctrine—sometimes explicitly stated,
sometimes unceremoniously assumed—
that earthly things are very speedily to
come to an end, and therefore are not
worthy of our high affections and deep
interest. Hence, when thoroughly imbued
with this persuasion, I looked with mourn
ful pity on a great mind wasting its ener
gies on any distant aim of this earth. For
a statesman to talk about providing for
future generations sounded to me as a
melancholy avowal of unbelief. To
devote good talents to write history or
investigate nature was simple waste ; for
at the Lord’s coming history and science
would no longer be learned by these
feeble appliances of ours.
Thus an
inevitable deduction from the doctrine
of the Apostles was, that “we must work
for speedy results only.” Vita summa
brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam. I
then accepted the doctrine, in profound
obedience to the absolutely infallible
system of precepts. I now see that the
falsity and mischief of the doctrine is
one of the very many disproofs of the
assumed, but unverified, infallibility.
However, the hold which the Apostolic
belief then took of me subjected my
conscience to the exhortations of the
Irish clergyman, whenever he inculcated
that the highest Christian must neces
sarily decline the pursuit of science,
knowledge, art, history—except so far as
any of these things might be made use
ful tools for immediate spiritual results.
Under the stimulus to my imagination
given by this gentleman’s character, the
29
desire, which from a boy I had more or
less nourished, of becoming a teacher of
Christianity to the heathen took stronger
and stronger hold of me. I saw that I
was shut out from the ministry of the
Church of England, and knew not how
to seek connection with Dissenters. I
had met one eminent Quaker, but was
offended by the violent and obviously
false interpretations by which he tried to
get rid of the two sacraments; and I
thought there was affectation involved in
the forms which the doctrine of the
Spirit took with him. Besides, I had
not been prepossessed by those Dis
senters whom I had heard speak at the
Bible Society. I remember that one of
them talked in pompous measured tones
of voice, and with much stereotyped
phraseology, about “the Bible only, the
religion of Protestants
altogether, it
did not seem to me that there was at all
so much of nature and simple truth in
them as in Church clergymen. I also
had a vague, but strong, idea that all
Dissenting Churches assumed some
special, narrow, and sectarian basis.
The question indeed arose, “ Was I at
liberty to preach to the heathen without
ordination?” but I, with extreme ease,
answered in the affirmative. To teach a
Church, of course, needs the sanction
of the Church : no man can assume
pastoral rights without assent from other
parties ; but to speak to those without is
obviously a natural right, with which the
Church can have nothing to do. And
herewith all the precedents of the New
Testament so obviously agreed that I
had not a moment’s disquiet on this
head.
At the same time, when asked by one
to whom I communicated my feelings
“whether I felt that I had a call to
preach to the heathen,” I replied I had
not the least consciousness of it, and
knew not what was meant by such lan
guage. All that I knew was that I was
willing and anxious to do anything in my
power either to teach, or to help others
in teaching, if only I could find out the
wray.
That after eighteen hundred
�3°
STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
years no farther progress should have
been made towards the universal spread
of Christianity appeared a scandalous
reproach on Christendom. Is it not,
perhaps, because those who are in
Church office cannot go, and the mass
of the laity think it no business of theirs ?
If a persecution fell on England, and
thousands were driven into exile, and,
like those who were scattered in Stephen’s
persecution, “went everywhere preach
ing the word ”—might not this be the
conversion of the world, as indeed that
began the conversion of the Gentiles ?
But the laity leave all to the clergy, and
the clergy have more than enough to do.
About this time I heard of another
remarkable man, whose name was already
before the public—Mr. Groves—who had
written a tract called Christian Devoted
ness, on the duty of devoting all worldly
property for the cause of Christ, and
utterly renouncing the attempt to amass
money. In pursuance of this he was
going to Persia as a teacher of Chris
tianity.
I read his tract, and was
inflamed with the greatest admiration;
judging immediately that this was the
man whom I should -rejoice to aid or
serve. For a scheme of this nature
alone appeared to combine with the
views which I had been gradually con
solidating concerning the practical rela
tion of a Christian Church to Christian
Evidences. On this very important sub
ject it is requisite to speak in detail.
The Christian Evidences are an essen
tial part of the course of religious study
prescribed at Oxford, and they had
engaged from an early period a large share
of my attention. Each treatise on the
subject, taken by itself, appeared to me to
have great argumentative force; but when
I tried to grasp them all together in a
higher act of thought I was sensible of a
certain confusion and inability to recon
cile their fundamental assumptions. One
either formally stated, or virtually as
sumed, that the deepest basis of all
religious knowledge was the testimony of
sense to some fact which is ascertained
to be miraculous when examined by the
light of physics or physiology; and that
we must, at least in a great degree,
distrust and abandon our moral convic
tions or auguries at the bidding of
sensible miracle. Another treatise as
sumed that men’s moral feelings and
beliefs are, on the whole, the most trust
worthy thing to be found ; and, starting
from them as from a known and ascer
tained foundation, proceeded to glorify
Christianity because of its expanding,
strengthening, and beautifying all that
we know by conscience to be morally
right. That the former argument, if ever
so valid, was still too learned and
scholastic, not for the vulgar only, but
for every man in his times of moral trial,
I felt instinctively persuaded; yet my
intellect could not wholly dispense with
it, and my belief in the depravity of the
moral understanding of men inclined me
to go some way in defending it. To
endeavour to combine the two arguments
by saying that they were adapted to
different states of mind was plausible ;
yet it conceded that neither of the two
went to the bottom of human thought, or
showed what were the real fixed points
of man’s knowledge; without knowing
which we are in perpetual danger of
mere argumentum ad hominem, or, in
fact, arguing in a circle—as to prove
miracles from doctrine, and doctrine from
miracles. I, however, conceived that
the most logical minds among Christians
would contend that there was another
solution, which, in 1827, I committed to
paper in nearly the following words :—
“ May it not be doubted whether
Leland sees the real circumstance that
makes a revelation necessary ?
“No revelation is needed to inform us
of the invisible power and deity of God ;
that we are bound to worship Him ; that
we are capable of sinning against Him
and liable to His just judgment; nay,
that we have sinned, and that we find in
nature marks of His displeasure against
sin; and yet that He is merciful. St.
Paul and our Lord show us that these
�STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
things are knowable by reason. The
ignorance of the heathens is judicial
blindness, to punish their obstinate rejec
tion of the true God.
“But a revelation A needed to convey
a special message, such as this : That
God has provided an Atonement for our
sins, has deputed His own Son to become
Head of the redeemed human family,
and intends to raise those who believe in
Him to a future and eternal life of bliss.
These are external truths (for ‘ who can
believe, unless one be sent to preach
them ?’), and are not knowable by any
reasonings drawn from nature. They
transcend natural analogies and moral or
spiritual experience. To reveal them a
specific communication must be accorded
to us, and on this the necessity for
miracle turns.”
Thus, in my view, at that time, the
materials of the Bible were in theory
divisible into two portions. Concerning
the one (which I called natural religion)
it not only was not presumptuous, but it
was absolutely essential, to form an inde
pendent judgment; for this was the real
basis of all faith. Concerning the other
(which I called revealed religion), our
business was not to criticise the message,
but to examine the credentials1 of the
messenger; and, after the most unbiassed
possible examination of these, then, if
they proved sound, to receive his com
munication reverently and unquestion
ingly.
Such was the theory with which I
came from Oxford to Ireland; but I was
hindered from working out its legitimate
results by the overpowering influence of
the Irish clergyman ; who, while pressing
the authority of every letter of the Scrip1 Very unintelligent criticism of my words
induces me to add that “the credentials of
revelation, ” as distinguished from ‘ ‘ the contents
of revelation,” are here intended. Whether
such a distinction can be preserved is quite
another question. The view here exhibited is
essentially that of Paley, and was in my day the
prevalent one at Oxford. I do not think that
die present Archbishop of Canterbury will disown
it, any more than Lloyd, and Burton, and Hamp
den—bishops and Regius Professors of Divinity. I
31
ture with an unshrinking vehemence
that I never saw surpassed, yet, with a
common inconsistency, showed more
than indifference towards learned his
torical and critical evidence on the side
of Christianity; and, indeed, unmerci
fully exposed erudition to scorn, both by
caustic reasoning and by irrefragable
quotation of texts. I constantly had
occasion to admire the power with which
he laid hold of the moral side of every
controversy, whether he was reasoning
against Romanism, against the High
Church, against learned religion or philo
sophic scepticism; and in this matter
his practical axiom was that the advocate
of truth had to address himself to the
conscience of the other party, and, if
possible, make him feel that there was
a moral and spiritual superiority against
him. Such doctrine, when joined with
an inculcation of man’s natural blindness
and total depravity, was anything but
clearing to my intellectual perceptions ;
in fact, I believe that for some years I
did not recover from the dimness and
confusion which he spread over them.
But in my entire inability to explain
away the texts which spoke with scorn
of worldly wisdom, philosophy, and
learning, on the one hand, and the
obvious certainty, on the other, that no
historical evidence for miracle was pos
sible except by the aid of learning, I
for the time abandoned this side of
Christian Evidence—not as invalid, but
as too unwieldy a weapon for use—and
looked to direct moral evidence alone.
And now rose the question, How could
such moral evidence become appreciable
to heathens and Mohammedans ?
I felt distinctly enough that mere talk
could bring no conviction, and would be
interpreted by the actions and character
of the speaker. While nations called
Christian are only known to heathens
as great conquerors, powerful avengers,
sharp traders—often lax in morals, and
apparently without religion—the fine
theories of a Christian teacher would be
as vain to convert a Mohammedan or
Hindoo to Christianity as the soundness
�32
STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
of Seneca’s moral treatises to convert
me to Roman Paganism. Christendom
has to earn a new reputation before
Christian precepts will be thought to
stand in any essential or close relation
with the mystical doctrines of Chris
tianity. I could see no other way to
this but by an entire Church being
formed of new elements on a heathen
soil—a Church in which by no means
all should be preachers, but all should
be willing to do for all whatever occasion
required. Such a Church had I read of
among the Moravians in Greenland and
in South Africa. I imagined a little
colony, so animated by primitive faith,
love, and disinterestedness that the
collective moral influence of all might
interpret and enforce the words of the
few who preached. Only in this way
did it appear to me that preaching to
the heathen could be attended with
success. In fact, whatever success had
been attained seemed to come only
after many years, when the natives had
gained experience in the characters of
the Christian family around them.
When I had returned to Oxford I
induced the Irish clergyman to visit the
University, and introduced him to many
of my equals in age and juniors. Most
striking was it to see how instantaneously
he assumed the place of universal father
confessor, as if he had been a known
and long-trusted friend. His insight into
character, and the tenderness pervading
his austerity, so opened young men’s
hearts that day after day there was no
end of secret closetings with him. I
began to see^the prospect of so con
siderable a movement of mind as might
lead many in the same direction as
myself; and if it was by a collective
Church that Mohammedans were to be
taught, the only way was for each
separately to be led to the same place
by the same spiritual influence. As
Groves was a magnet to draw me, so
might I draw others. In no other way
could a pure and efficient Church be
formed. If we waited, as with worldly
policy, to make up a complete colony
before leaving England, we should fail
of getting the right men; we should
pack them together by a mechanical
process, instead of leaving them to be
united by vital affinities. Thus actuated,
and other circumstances conducing, in
September, 1830, with some Irish friends,
I set out to join Mr. Groves at Bagdad.
What I might do there I knew not. I
did not go as a minister of religion, and
I everywhere pointedly disowned the
assumption of this character, even down
to the colour of my dress. But I thought
I knew many ways in which I might be
of service, and I was prepared to act
according to circumstances.
Perhaps the strain of practical life
must in any case, before long, have
broken the chain by which the Irish
clergyman unintentionally held me ; but
all possible influence from him was now
cut off by separation. The dear com
panions of my travels no more aimed to
guide my thoughts than I theirs; neither
ambition nor suspicion found place in
our hearts; and my mind was thus able
again without disturbance to develop its
own tendencies.
I had become distinctly aware that
the modern Churches in general by no
means hold the truth as conceived of by
the Apostles. In the matter of the
Sabbath and of the Mosaic Law, of
infant baptism, of episcopacy, of the
doctrine of the Lord’s return, I had
successively found the prevalent Protes
tantism to be un-Apostolic. Hence arose
in me a conscious and continuous effort
to read the New Testament with fresh
eyes and without bias, and so to take up
the real doctrines of the heavenly and
everlasting Gospel.
In studying the narrative of John I
was strongly impressed by the fact that
the glory and greatness of the Son of
God is constantly ascribed to the will
and pleasure of the Father. I had been
accustomed to hear this explained of his
mediatorial greatness only, but this now
looked to me like a makeshift, and to
�STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
4 - ,'
i want the simplicity of truth—an impresI sion which grew deeper with closer
examination. The emphatic declaration
of Christ, “ My Father is greater than I,”
| especially arrested my attention. Could
I really expound this as meaning, “ My
! Father, the Supreme God, is greater than
I am, if you look solely to my human
nature ” ? Such a truism can scarcely
have deserved such emphasis. Did the
i disciples need to be taught that God
was greater than man ? Surely, on the
contrary, the Saviour must have meant
| to say: “Divine as I am, yet my heavenly
I Father is greater than I, even when you
take cognisance of my divine natureI
did not then know that my comment
was exactly that of the most orthodox
Fathers; I rather thought they were
against me, but for them I did not care
much. I reverenced the doctrine of the
Trinity as something vital to the soul,
but felt that to love the Fathers or the
Athanasian Creed more than the Gospel
of John would be a supremely miserable
superstition. However, that Creed states
; that there is no inequality between the
| Three Persons ; in John it became
increasingly clear to me that the divine
Son is unequal to the Father. To say
that “the Son of God” meant “Jesus
as man ” was a preposterous evasion, for
there is no higher title for the Second
Person of the Trinity than this very one
—Son of God. Now, in the fifth chapter,
when the Jews accused Jesus “ of making
himself equal to God,” by calling himself
Son of God, Jesus even hastens to pro
test against the inference as a misrepre
sentation—beginning with, “ The Son
can do nothing of himself ” — and
proceeds elaborately to ascribe all his
.-ul greatness to the Father’s will. In fact,
I the Son is emphatically “he who is
sent,” and the Father is “he who sent
_ ! him ”; and all would feel the deep
qmr impropriety of trying to exchange these
| phrases. The Son who is sent—sent,
not after he was humbled to become
man, but in order to be so humbled—
■| was NOT EQUAL TO, but LESS THAN, the
I] Father who sent him. To this I found
33
the whole Gospel of John to bear
witness, and with this conviction the
truth and honour of the Athanasian
Creed fell to the ground. One of its
main tenets was proved false, and yet it
dared to utter anathemas on all who
rejected it!
. I afterwards remembered my old
thought, that we must surely understand
our own words, when we venture to speak
at all about divine mysteries. Having
gained boldness to gaze steadily on the
topic, I at length saw that the compiler
of the Athanasian Creed did not under
stand his own words. If anyone speaks
of three men, all that he means is, “three
objects of thought, of whom each
separately may be called Man.” So
also, all that could possibly be meant by
three gods is, “ three objects of thought,
of whom each separately may be called
God.” To avow the last statement, as
the Creed does, and yet repudiate Three
Gods, is to object to the phrase, yet
confess to the only meaning which the
phrase can convey. Thus the Creed
really teaches polytheism, but saves
orthodoxy by forbidding anyone to call
it by its true name. Or to put the
matter otherwise : it teaches three Divine
Persons and denies three Gods, and
leaves us to guess what else is a Divine
Person but a God, or a God but a Divine
Person. Who, then, can deny that this
intolerant Creed is a malignant riddle ?
That there is nothing in the Scripture
about Trinity in Unity and Unity in
Trinity I had long observed, and the
total absence of such phraseology had
left on me a general persuasion that the
Church had systematised too much. But
in my study of John I was now arrested
by a text which showed me how exceed
ingly far from a Tri-unity. was the
Trinity of that Gospel—if trinity it be.
Namely, in his last prayer, Jesus
addresses to his Father the words :
“This is life eternal, that they may
know Thee, the only True God, and
Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.” I
became amazed as I considered these
words more and more attentively, and
c
2
�34
STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
without prejudice, and I began to under
stand how prejudice, when embalmed
with reverence, blinds the mind. Why
had I never before seen what is here so
plain, that the One God of Jesus was not
a Trinity, but was the First Person of
the ecclesiastical Trinity ?
But, on a fuller search, I found this to
be Paul’s doctrine also; for in i Cor.
viii., when discussing the subject of poly
theism, he says that, “though there be to
the heathen many that are called gods,
yet to us there is but One God, the
Father, of whom are all things ; and One
Lord, Jesus Christ, by whom are all
things.” Thus he defines monotheism
to consist in holding the person of the
Father to be the One God; although
this, if any, should have been the place
for a “Trinity in Unity.”
But did I proceed to deny the divinity
of the Son ? By no means ; I conceived
of him as in the highest and fullest sense
divine, short of being Father and not
Son. I now believed that by the phrase
“ only begotten Son,” John, and indeed
Christ himself, meant to teach us that
there was an impassable chasm between
him and all creatures, in that he had a
true, though a derived, divine nature ; as,
indeed, the Nicene Creed puts the con
trast, he was “begotten, not made.”
Thus all divine glory dwells in the Son,
but it is because the Father has willed it.
A year or more afterwards, when I had
again the means of access to books, and
consulted that very common Oxford
book, Pearson on the Creed (for which I
had felt so great a distaste that I never
before read it), I found this to" be the
undoubted doctrine of the great Nicene
and post-Nicene Fathers, who laid much
emphasis on two statements, which with
the modern Church are idle and dead—
viz., that “ the Son was begotten of his
Father before all worlds,” and that “the
Holy Spirit proceedeth from the Father
and the Son.” In the view of the old
Church, the Father alone was the Foun
tain of Deity (and therefore fitly called
the One God and the Only True God),
while the Deity of the other two Persons
was real, yet derived and subordinate.
Moreover, I found in Gregory Nazianzen
and others that to confess this derivation
of the Son and Spirit and the underivedness of the Father alone was, in their
view, quite essential to save monotheism;
the One God being the underived Father.
Although, in my own mind, all doubt
as to the doctrine of John and Paul on
the main question seemed to be quite
cleared away from the time that I dwelt
on their explanation of monotheism, this
in no respect agitated me, or even
engaged me in any farther search. There
was nothing to force me into controversy,
or make this one point of truth unduly
preponderant. I concealed none of my
thoughts from my companions ; and con
cerning them I will only say that, whether
they did or did not feel acquiescence,
they behaved towards me with all the
affection and all the equality which I
would have wished myself to maintain
had the case been inverted. I was,
however, sometimes uneasy, when the
thought crossed my mind: “ What if
we, like Henry Martyn, were charged
with polytheism by Mohammedans, and
were forced to defend ourselves by
explaining in detail our doctrine of the
Trinity? Perhaps no two of us would
explain it alike, and this would expose
Christian doctrine to contempt.” Then,
farther it came across me: How very
remarkable it is that the Jews, those
strict monotheists, never seem to have
attacked the Apostles for polytheism '
It would have been so plausible an
imputation, one that the instinct of party
would so readily suggest, if there had
been any external form of doctrine to
countenance it. Surely it is transparent
that the Apostles did not teach as Dr.
Waterland. I had always felt a great
repugnance to the argumentations con
cerning the Personality of the Holy
Spirit; no doubt from an inward sense,
however dimly confessed, that they were
all words without meaning. For the
disputant who maintains this dogma tells
us in the very next breath that Person
has not in this connection its common
�STRIVINGS ARTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
signification; so that he is elaborately
enforcing upon us we know not what.
That the Spirit of God meant in the
New Testament God in the heart had
long been to me a sufficient explanation;
and who, by logic or metaphysics, will
carry us beyond this ?
While we were at Aleppo I one day
got into religious discourse with a Moham
medan carpenter, which left on me a
lasting impression. Among other matters,
I was peculiarly desirous of disabusing
him of the current notion of his people,
that our Gospels are spurious narratives
of late date. I found great difficulty of
expression; but the man listened to
me with much attention, and I was
encouraged to exert myself. He waited
patiently till I had done, and then spoke
to the following effect: “I will tell you,
sir, how the case stands. God has given
to you English a great many good gifts.
You make fine ships, and sharp pen
knives, and good cloth and cottons;
and you have rich nobles and brave
soldiers; and you write and print niany
learned books (dictionaries and gram
mars) : all this is of God. But there is
one thing that God has withheld from
you, and has revealed to us, and that is
the knowledge of the true religion by
which one may be saved.” When he
thus ignored my argument (which was
probably quite unintelligible to him),
and delivered his simple protest, I was
silenced, and at the same time amused.
But the more I thought it over, the
more instruction I saw in the case. His
position towards me was exactly that of a
humble Christian towards an unbelieving
philosopher; nay, that of the early
Apostles or Jewish prophets towards
the proud, cultivated, worldly-wise, and
powerful heathen. This not only showed
the vanity of any argument to him,
except one purely addressed to his
moral and spiritual faculties ; but it also
indicated to me that ignorance has its
spiritual self-sufficiency as well as erudi
tion, and that, if there is a pride of
reason, so is there a pride of unreason.
But, though this rested in my memory,
35
it was long before I worked out all the
results of that thought.
Another matter brought me some
disquiet. An Englishman of rather low
tastes, who came to Aleppo at this time,
called upon us, and, as he was civilly
received, repeated his visit more than
once. Being unencumbered with fas
tidiousness, this person before long made
various rude attacks on the truth and
authority of the Christian religion, and
drew me on to defend it. What I had
heard of the moral life of the speaker
made me feel that his was not the mind
to have insight into divine truth; and I
desired to divert the argument from
external topics, and bring it to a point
in which there might be a chance of
touching his conscience. But I found
this to be impossible. He returned
actively to the assault against Chris
tianity, and I could not bear to hear him
vent historical falsehoods and misrepre
sentations damaging to the Christian
cause without contradicting them. He
was a half-educated man, and I easily
confuted him to my own entire satisfac
tion ; but he was not either abashed or
convinced, and at length withdrew as
one victorious. On reflecting over this,
I felt painfully that, if a Moslem had
been present and had understood all
that had been said, he would have
remained in total uncertainty which of
the two disputants was in the right, for
the controversy had turned on points
wholly remote from the sphere of his
knowledge or thought. Yet to have
declined the battle would have seemed
like conscious weakness on my part.
Thus the historical side of my religion,
though essential to it, and though resting
on valid evidence (as I unhesitatingly
believed), exposed me to attacks in
which I might incur virtual defeat or
disgrace, but in which, from the nature
of the case, I could never win an avail
able victory. This was to me very dis
agreeable, yet I saw not my way out of
the entanglement.
Two years after I left England a hope
was conceived that more friends might
�36
STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
be induced to join us, and I returned
home from Bagdad with the commission
to bring this about, if there were suitable
persons disposed for it. On my return,
and while yet in quarantine on the coast
of England, I received an uncomfortable
letter from a most intimate spiritual
friend, to the effect that painful reports
had been everywhere spread abroad
against my soundness in the faith. The
channel by which they had come was
indicated to me; but my friend expressed
a firm hope that when I had explained
myself it would all prove to be nothing.
Now began a time of deep and critical
trial to me and to my creed—a time
hard to speak of to the public; yet
without a pretty full notice of it the
rest of the account would be quite unin
telligible.
The Tractarian movement was just
commencing in 1833. My brother was
taking a position in which he was bound
to show that he could sacrifice private
love to ecclesiastical dogma, and upon
learning that I had spoken at some
small meetings of religious people
(which he interpreted, I believe, to
be an assuming of the priest’s office)
he separated himself entirely from my
private friendship and acquaintance. To
the public this may have some interest,
as indicating the disturbing excitement
which animated that cause; but my
reason for naming the fact here is solely
to exhibit the practical positions into
which I myself was thrown. In my
brother’s conduct there was not a shade
of unkindness, and I have not a thought
of complaining of it. My distress was
naturally great, until I had fully ascer
tained from him that I had given no
personal offence. But the mischief of
it went deeper. It practically cut me
off from other members of my family,
who were living in his house, and whose
state of feeling towards me, through
separation and my own agitations of
mind, I for some time totally mistook.
I had, however, myself slighted rela
tionship in comparison with Christian
brotherhood — sectarian
brotherhood,
some may call it. I perhaps had none
but myself to blame; but in the far
more painful occurrences which were to
succeed one another for many months
together I was blameless. Each suc
cessive friend who asked explanations of
my alleged heresy was satisfied—or, at
least, left me with that impression—after
hearing me; not one who met me face
to face had a word to reply to the plain
Scriptures which I quoted. Yet, when I
was gone away, one after another was
turned against me by somebody else
whom I had not yet met or did not know;
for in every theological conclave which
deliberates on joint action the most
bigoted seems always to prevail.
I will trust my pen to only one
specimen of details. The Irish clergy
man was not able to meet me. He
wrote a very desultory letter of grave
alarm and inquiry, stating that he had
heard that I was endeavouring to sound
the divine nature by the miserable
plummet of human philosophy, with
much beside that I felt to be mere
commonplace which everybody might
address to everybody who differed from
him. I, however, replied in the frankest,
most cordial and trusting tone, assuring
him that I was infinitely far from
imagining that I could “by searching
understand God ”; on the contrary,
concerning his higher mysteries I felt I
knew absolutely nothing but what he
revealed to me in his word; but in
studying this word I found John and
Paul to declare the Father, and not the
Trinity, to be the One God. Referring
him to John xvii. 3, 1 Cor. viii. 5, 6,
I fondly believed that one so “ subject
to the word,” and so resolutely
renouncing man’s authority in order
that he might serve God, would
immediately see as I saw. But I
assured him, in all the depth of affec
tion, that I felt how much fuller insight
he had than I into all divine truth ; and
not he only, but others to whom I
alluded; and that, if I was in error, I
only desired to be taught more truly,
and either with him, or at his feet, to
�STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
learn of God. He replied, to my amaze
ment and distress, in a letter of much
tenderness, but which was to the effect
that, if I allowed the Spirit of God to be
with him rather than with me, it was
wonderful that I set my single judgment
against the mind of the Spirit and of the
whole Church of God; and that, as for
admitting into Christian communion
one who held my doctrine, it has this
absurdity, that while I was in such a
state of belief it was my duty to
anathematise them as idolaters. Severe as
was the shock given me by this letter, I
wrote again most lovingly, humbly, and
imploringly, for I still adored him, and
could have given him my right hand or
my right eye—anything but my con
science. I showed him that if it was a
matter of action I would submit, for I
unfeignedly believed that he had more
of the Spirit of God than I, but over my
secret convictions I had no power. I
was shut up to obey and believe God
rather than man, and from the nature of
the case, the profoundest respect for my
brother’s judgment could not in itself
alter mine. As to the whole Church
being against me, I did not know what
that meant; I was willing to accept the
Nicene Creed, and this I thought ought
to be a sufficient defensive argument
against the Church. His answer was
decisive—he was exceedingly surprised
at my recurring to mere ecclesiastical
creeds, as though they could have the
slightest weight, and he must insist on
my acknowledging that in the two texts
quoted the word Father meant the
Trinity, if I desired to be in any way
recognised as holding the truth.
The Father meant the Trinity ! ! For
the first time I perceived that so
vehement a champion of the sufficiency
of the Scripture, so staunch an opposer
of Creeds and Churches, was wedded to
an extra-Scriptural creed of his own, by
which he tested the spiritual state of his
brethren. I was in despair, and like a
man thunderstruck. I had nothing more
to say. Two more letters from the same
hand I saw, the latter of which was to
yj
threaten some new acquaintances who
were kind to me (persons wholly
unknown to him) that if they did not
desist from sheltering me and break off
intercourse they should, as far as his
influence went, themselves everywhere
be cut off from Christian communion
and recognition. This will suffice to
indicate the sort of social persecution
through which, after a succession of
struggles, I found myself separated from
persons whom I had trustingly admired,
and on whom I had most counted for
union—with whom I fondly believed
myself bound up for eternity—of whom
some were my previously intimate
friends, while for others, even on slight
acquaintance, I would have performed
menial offices and thought myself
honoured; whom I still looked upon
as the blessed and excellent of the
earth and the special favourites of
heaven; whose company (though often
times they were considerably my
inferiors either in rank or in knowledge
and cultivation) I would have chosen in
preference to that of nobles ; whom I
loved solely because I thought them to
love God, and of whom I asked nothing,
but that they would admit me as the
meanest and most frail of disciples. My
heart was ready to break; I wished for
a woman’s soul that I might weep in
floods. Oh, dogma ! dogma ! how dost
thou trample under foot love, truth, con
science, justice! Was ever a Moloch
worse than thou? Burn me at the
stake; then Christ will receive me, and
saints beyond the grave will love me,
though the saints here know me not.
But now I am alone in the world: I can
trust no one. The new acquaintances who
barely tolerate me, and old friends whom
reports have not reached (if such there
be), may turn against me with animosity
to-morrow, as those have done from
whom I could least have imagined it.
Where is union ? Where is the Church
which was to convert the heathen ?
This was not my only reason, yet it
was soon a sufficient and at last an over
whelming reason, against returning to the
�STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
East. The pertinacity of the attacks
made on me, and on all who dared to
hold by me in a certain connection,
showed that I could no longer be any
thing but a thorn in the side of my
friends abroad; nay, I was unable to
predict how they themselves might
change towards me. The idea of a
Christian Church propagating Chris
tianity while divided against itself was
ridiculous. Never, indeed, had I had
the most remote idea that my dear
friends there had been united to me by
agreement in intellectual propositions;
nor could I yet believe it. I remem
bered a saying of the noble-hearted
Groves: “Talk of loving me while I
agree with them! Give me men that
will love me when I differ from them
and contradict them; those will be the
men to build up a true Church.” I
asked myself, was I then possibly
different from all ? With me, and, as I
had thought, with all my spiritual friends,
intellectual dogma was not the test of
spirituality. A hundred times over had
I heard the Irish clergyman emphatically
enunciate the contrary. Nothing was
clearer in his preaching, talking, and
writing than that salvation was a present,
real, experienced fact; a saving of the
soul from the dominion of baser desires,
and an inward union of it in love and
homage to Christ, who, as the centre of
all perfection, glory, and beauty, was the
, revelation of God to the heart. He
who was thus saved could not help
knowing that he was reconciled, par
doned, beloved; and therefore he re
joiced in God his Saviour ; indeed, to
imagine joy without this personal assur
ance and direct knowledge was quite
preposterous. But, on the other hand,
the soul thus spiritually minded has a
keen sense of like qualities in others. It
cannot but discern when another is
tender in conscience, disinterested, for
bearing, scornful of untruth and base
ness, and esteeming nothing so much as
the fruits of the Spirit; accordingly, John
did not hesitate to say : “ We know that
we have passed from death unto life,
because we love the brethren.” Our doc
trine certainly had been that the Church
was the assembly of the saved, gathered
by the vital attractions of God’s Spirit;
that in it no one was lord or teacher, but
one was our teacher, even Christ; that
as long as we had no earthly bribes to
tempt men to join us there was not much
cause to fear false brethren; for if we
were heavenly minded, and these were
earthly, they would soon dislike and shun
us. Why should we need to sit in judg
ment and excommunicate them except
in the case of publicly scandalous
conduct ?
It is true that I fully believed certain
intellectual convictions to be essential to
genuine spirituality; for instance, if I
had heard that a person unknown to me
did not believe in the Atonement of
Christ, I should have inferred that he
had no spiritual life. But if the person
had come under my direct knowledge,
my theory was on no account to reject
him on a question of creed, but in any
case to receive all those whom Christ
had received, all on whom the Spirit of
God had come down, just as the Church
_at Jerusalem did in regard to admitting
the Gentiles (Acts xi. 18). Nevertheless,
was not this perhaps a theory pleasant to
talk of, but too good for practice? I
could not tell; for it had never been so
severely tried. I remembered, however,
that when I had thought it right to be
baptised as an adult (regarding my
baptism as an infant to have been a
mischievous fraud), the sole confession
of faith which I made, or would endure,
at a time when my “ orthodoxy ” was
unimpeached, was:1 “I believe that
Jesus Christ is the Son of God ”; to deny
which and claim to be acknowledged as
within the pale of the Christian Church
seemed to be an absurdity. On the
whole, therefore, it did not appear to
me that this Church theory had been
hollow-hearted with me nor unscriptural,
nor in any way unpractical; but that
others were still infected with the leaven
1 Borrowed from Acts viii. 37-
�STRIVINGS AFTER A MORE PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY
39
of the love of saints, it is in order that
we may find a truer heaven in God’s
love.
The question about this time much
vexed me, what to do about receiving
the Holy Supper of the Lord, the great
emblem of brotherhood, communion,
and Church connection. At one time I
argued with myself that it became an
unmeaning form when not partaken of
in mutual love; that I could never
again have free intercourse of heart
with anyone—why, then, use the rite of
communion where there is no com
munion? But, on the other hand, I
thought it a mode of confessing Christ,
and that permanently to disuse it was an
unfaithfulness. In the Church of Eng
land I could have been easy as far as the
communion formulary was concerned;
but to the entire system I had contracted
an incurable repugnance, as worldly,
hypocritical, and an evil counterfeit. I
desired, therefore, to creep into some
obscure congregation, and there wait till
my mind had ripened as to the right path
in circumstances so perplexing. I will
only briefly say that I at last settled
among some who had previously been
total strangers to me. To their good
will and simple kindness I feel myself
indebted: peace be to them ! Thus I
gained time and repose of mind, which
I greatly needed.
From the day that I had mentally
decided on total inaction as to all eccle
siastical questions, I count the termina
tion of my Second Period. My ideal of
a spiritual Church had blown up in the
most sudden and heartbreaking way;
overpowering me with shame, when the
violence of sorrow was past. There was
no change whatever in my own judgment,
yet a total change of action was inevit
able ; that I was on the eve of a great
transition of mind I did not at all suspect.
Hitherto my reverence for the authority
of the whole and indivisible Bible was
overruling and complete. I never really
1 Virgil (Asn&id vi.) gives the Stoical side of had dared to criticise it; I did not even
the same thought: Tu ne cede malis, sed contra exact from it self-consistency. If two
audentior ito.
passages appeared to be opposed, and I
of creeds and formal tests, with which
they reproached the old Church.
Were there, then, no other hearts
than mine aching under miserable bigotry
and refreshed only when they tasted in
others the true fruits of the Spirit—
“ love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentle
ness, goodness, fidelity, meekness, self
control”? To imagine this was to suppose
myself a man supematurally favoured,
an angel upon earth. I knew there
must be thousands in this very point
more true-hearted than I; nay, such still
might some be whose names I went over
with myself; but I had no heart for
more experiments. When such a man
as he, the only mortal to whom I had
looked up as to an apostle, had unhesi
tatingly, unrelentingly, and without one
mark that his conscience was not on his
side, flung away all his own precepts, his
own theories, his own magnificent
rebukes of formalism and human autho
rity, and had made ^zw.rez/’the slave and
me the victim of these old and ever
living tyrants, whom henceforth could I
trust ? The resolution then rose in me
to love all good men from a distance, but
never again to count on permanent
friendship with anyone who was not
himself cast out as a heretic.
Nor, in fact, did the storm of distress
which these events inflicted on me sub
side until I willingly received the task of
withstanding it, as God’s trial whether I
was faithful. As soon as I gained
strength to say: “O my Lord, I will
bear not this only, but more also,1 for thy
sake, for conscience, and for truth ”—my
sorrows vanished until the next blow and
the next inevitable pang. At last my
heart had died within me ; the bitterness
of death was past; I was satisfied to be
hated by the saints, and to reckon that
those who had not yet turned against me
would not bear me much longer. Then
I conceived the belief that, if we may not
make a heaven on earth for ourselves out
�4°
CALVINISM ABANDONED
could not evade the difficulty by the
doctrine of development and progress,
I inferred that there was some mode of
conciliation unknown to me; and that
perhaps the depth of truth in divine
things could ill be stated in our imperfect
language. But from the man who dared
to interpose a human comment on the
Scripture I most rigidly demanded a clear,
single, self-consistent sense. If he did
not know what he meant, why did he
not hold his peace? If he did know,
why did he so speak as to puzzle us? It
was for this uniform refusal to allow of
self-contradiction that it was more than
once sadly predicted of me at Oxford
that I should become “ a Socinian yet
I did not apply this logical measure to
any compositions but those which were
avowedly “uninspired” and human.
As to moral criticism, my mind was
practically prostrate before the Bible.
By the end of this period I had per
suaded myself that morality so changes
with the commands of God that we can
scarcely attach any idea of immutability
to it. I am, moreover, ashamed to tell
anyone how I spoke and acted against
my own common sense under this influ
ence, and when I was thought a fool,
prayed that I might think it an honour
to become a fool for Christ’s sake.
Against no doctrine did I dare to bring
moral objections, except that of “Repro
bation.” To Election, to Preventing
Grace, to the Fall and Original Sin of
man, to the Atonement, to Eternal
Punishment. I reverently submitted my
understanding, though, as to the last,
new inquiries had just at this crisis been
opening on me. Reprobation, indeed, I
always repudiated with great vigour, of
which I shall presently speak. That was
the full amount of my original thought,
and in it I preserved entire reverence for
the sacred writers.
As to miracles, scarcely anything
staggered me. I received the strangest
and the meanest prodigies of Scripture
with the same unhesitating faith as if I
had never understood a proposition of
physical philosophy, nor a chapter of
Hume and Gibbon.
Chapter III.
CALVINISM ABANDONED
After the excitement was past I learned
many things from the events which have
been named.
First, I had found that the class of
Christians with whom I had been joined
had exploded the old creeds in favour
of another of their own, which was never
given me upon authority, and yet was
constantly slipping out in the words,
Jesus is Jehovah. It appeared to me
certain that this would have been
denounced as the Sabellian heresy by
Athanasius and his contemporaries. I
did not wish to run down Sabellians,
much less to excommunicate them, if
they would give me equality; but I felt it
intensely unjust, when my adherence to
the Nicene Creed was my real offence,
that I should be treated as setting up
some novel wickedness against all
Christendom, and slandered by vague
imputations which reached far and far
beyond my power of answering or explain
ing. Mysterious aspersions were made
�CALVINISM ABANDONED
even against my moral1 character, and
were alleged to me as additional reasons
for refusing communion with me; and
when I demanded a tribunal, and that
my accuser would meet me face to face,
all inquiry was refused, on the plea that
it was needless and undesirable. I had
much reason to believe that a very small
number of persons had constituted them
selves my judges and used against me all
the airs of the Universal Church, the
many lending themselves easily to swell
the cry of heresy, when they have little
personal acquaintance with the party
attacked. Moreover, when I was being
condemned as in error, I in vain asked
to be told what was the truth. “ I
accept the Scripture : that is not enough.
I accept the Nicene Creed: that is not
enough. Give me then your formula—
where, what is it ? ” But no ' those who
thought it their duty to condemn me
disclaimed the pretensions of “ making a
creed ” when I asked for one. They
reprobated my interpretation of Scripture
as against that of the whole Church, but
would not undertake to expound that of
the Church. I felt convinced that they
could not have agreed themselves as to
what was right; all that they could agree
upon was that I was wrong. Could I
have borne to recriminate, I believed
that I could have forced one of them to
condemn another; but, oh ! was divine
truth sent us for discord and for con
demnation ? I sickened at the idea of a
Church tribunal, where none has any
authority to judge, and yet to my extreme
embarrassment I saw that no Church can
safely dispense with judicial forms and
other worldly apparatus for defending the
reputation of individuals. At least none
of the national and less spiritual institu
tions would have been so very unequitable
towards me.
1 I afterwards learned that some of those
gentlemen esteemed boldness of thought “ a lust
of the mind,” and, as such, an immorality. This
enables them to persuade themselves that they
do not reject a “ heretic ” for a matter of opinion,
but for that which they have a right to call
immoral. What immorality was imputed to me
I was not distinctly informed.
41
This idea enlarged itself into another,
that spirituality is no adequate security
for sound moral discernment. These
alienated friends did not know they were
acting unjustly, cruelly, crookedly, or
they would have hated themselves for
it; they thought they were doing God
service. The fervour of their love
towards him was probably greater than
mine, yet this did not make them
superior to prejudice or sharpen their
logical faculties to see that they were
idolising words to which they attached
no ideas. On several occasions I had
distinctly perceived how serious alarm I
gave by resolutely refusing to admit any
shiftings and shufflings of language. I
felt convinced that if I would but have
contradicted myself two or three times,
and then have added, “ That is the
mystery of it,” I could have passed as
orthodox with many. I had been
charged with a proud and vain deter
mination to pry into divine mysteries,
barely because I would not confess to
propositions the meaning of which was
to me doubtful, or say and unsay in con
secutive breaths. It was too clear that
a doctrine which muddles the under
standing perverts also the power of
moral discernment. If I had committed
some flagrant sin, they would have given
me a fair and honourable trial; but
where they could not give me a public
hearing, nor yet leave me unimpeached
without danger of (what they called) my
infecting the Church, there was nothing
left but to hunt me out unscrupulously.
Unscrupulously! Did not this one
word characterise all religious persecu
tion? And then my mind wandered
back over the whole melancholy tale of
what is called Christian history. When
Archbishop Cranmer overpowered the
reluctance of young Edward VI. to burn
to death the pious and innocent Joan of
Kent, who, moreover, was as mystical
and illogical as heart could wish, was
Cranmer not actuated by deep religious
convictions? None question his piety,
yet it was an awfully wicked deed.
What shall I say of Calvin, who
�42
CALVINISM ABANDONED
burned Servetus ? Why have I been so
slow to learn that religion is an impulse
which animates us to execute our moral
judgments, but an impulse which may be
half blind? These brethren believe that
I may cause the eternal ruin of others;
how hard, then, is it for them to abide
faithfully by the laws of morality and
respect my rights ! My rights ! They
are, of course, trampled down for the
public good, just as a house is blown up
to stop a conflagration. Such is evi
dently the theory of all persecution,
which is essentially founded on hatred.
As Aristotle says, “ He who is angry
desires to punish somebody; but he who
hates desires the hated person not even
to exist.” Hence they cannot endure to
see me face to face. That I may not
infect the rest, they desire my non
existence—by fair means, if fair will
succeed; if not, then by foul. And
whence comes this monstrosity into such
bosoms? Weakness of common sense,
dread of the common understanding, an
insufficient faith in common morality,
are surely the disease; and evidently
nothing so exasperates this disease as
consecrating religious tenets which forbid
the exercise of common sense.
I now began to understand why it was
peculiarly for unintelligible doctrines
like Transubstantiation and the Tri
unity that Christians had committed
such execrable wickednesses. Now,
also, for the first time I understood what
had seemed not frightful only, but
preternatural—the sensualities and
cruelties enacted as a part of religion
in many of the old paganisms. Religion
and fanaticism are in the embryo but
one and the same ; to purify and elevate
them we want a cultivation of the
understanding, without which our moral
code may be indefinitely depraved.
Natural kindness and strong sense are
aids and guides which the most spiritual
man cannot afford to despise.
I became conscious that I had despised
‘‘ mere moral men,” as they were called
in the phraseology of my school. They
were merged, in the vague appellation of
“the world,” with sinners of every class ;
and it was habitually assumed, if not
asserted, that they were necessarily
Pharisaic, because they had not been
born again. For some time after I had
misgivings as to my fairness of judgment
towards them I could not disentangle
myself from great bewilderment con
cerning their state in the sight of God,
for it. was an essential part of my Calvinistic creed that (as one of the Thirtynine Articles states it) the very good
works of the unregenerate “undoubtedly
have the nature of sin,” as, indeed, the
very nature with which they were born
“deserveth God’s wrath and damnation.”
I began to mourn over the unlovely
conduct into which I had been betrayed
by this creed long before I could
thoroughly get rid of the creed that
justified it, and a considerable time had
to elapse ere my new perceptions shaped
themselves distinctly into the proposi
tions : “ Morality is the end, spirituality
is the means ; religion is the handmaid to
morals ; we must be spiritual in order
that we may be in the highest and truest
sense moral.” Then at last I saw that
the deficiency of “mere moral men” is
that their morality is apt to be too
external or merely negative, and there
fore incomplete; that the man who
worships a fiend for a God may be in
some sense spiritual, but his spirituality
will be a devilish fanaticism, having
nothing in it to admire or approve ; that
the moral man deserves approval or love
for all the absolute good that he has
attained, though there be a higher good
to which he aspires not; and that the
truly and rightly spiritual is he who aims
at an indefinitely high moral excellence,
of which God is the embodiment to his
heart and soul. If the absolute excel
lence of morality be denied, there is
nothing for spirituality to aspire after,
and nothing in God to worship. Years
before I saw this as clearly as here
stated, the general train of thought was
very wholesome in giving me increased
kindliness of judgment towards the
common world of men, who do not
�CA L VINISM A BA NDONED
show any religious development. It was
pleasant to me to look on an ordinary
face and see it light up into a smile, and
think with myself: “ There is one heart
that will judge of me by what I am, and
not by a Procrustean dogma.” Nor
only so, but I saw that the saints,
without the world, would make a very
bad world of it, and that as ballast is
wanted to a ship, so the common and
rather low interests, and the homely
principles, rules, and ways of feeling,
keep the Church from foundering by the
intensity of her own gusts.
Some of the above thoughts took a
still more definite shape, as follows. It
is clear that A B and X Y would have
behaved towards me more kindly, more
justly, and more wisely, if they had con
sulted their excellent strong sense and
amiable natures, instead of following
(what they suppose to be) the commands
of the word of God. They have mis
interpreted that word—true ; but this
very thing shows that one may go wrong
by trusting one’s power of interpreting
the book rather than trusting one’s
common sense to judge without the
book. It startled me to find that I had
exactly alighted on the Romish objection
to Protestants, that an infallible book is
useless unless we have an infallible
interpreter. But it was not for some
time, that, after twisting the subject in
all directions to avoid it, I brought out
the conclusion that “ to go against one’s
common sense in obedience to Scripture
is a most hazardous proceeding
for the
“ rule of Scripture ” means to each of us
nothing but his own fallible interpreta
tion, and to sacrifice common sense to
this is to mutilate one side of our mind
at the command of another side. In the
Nicene age the Bible was in people’s
hands, and the Spirit of God surely was
not withheld; yet I had read in one of
the Councils an insane anathema was
passed : “ If anyone call Jesus God-man,
instead of God and man, let him be
accursed.” Surely want of common
sense and dread of natural reason will
be confessed by our highest ortho
43
doxy to have been the distemper of that
day.
In all this I still remained theoretically
convinced that the contents of the Scrip
tures, rightly interpreted, were supreme
and perfect truth; indeed, I had for
several years accustomed myself to speak
and think as if the Bible were our sole
source of all moral knowledge ; never
theless, there were practically limits,
beyond which I did not, and could not,
even attempt to blind my moral senti
ment at the dictation of the Scripture;
and this had peculiarly frightened (as I
afterwards found) the first friend who
welcomed me from abroad. I was
unable to admit the doctrine of “ repro
bation,” as apparently taught in the
9th chapter of Paul’s Epistle to the
Romans—that “ God hardens in wicked
ness whomever he pleases, in order that
he may show his long-suffering ” in
putting off their condemnation to a
future dreadful day; and, especially, that
to all objectors it is a sufficient confuta
tion—“ Nay, but O man, who art thou,
that repliest against God?” I told my
friend that I worshipped in God three
great attributes, all independent—power,
goodness, and wisdom; that in order
to worship him acceptably I must dis
cern these as realities with my inmost
heart, and not merely take them for
granted on authority ; but that the argu
ment which was here pressed upon me
was an effort to supersede the necessity
of my discerning goodness in God ; it
bade me simply to infer goodness from
power—that is to say, establish the
doctrine, “ Might makes right accord
ing to which, I might unawares worship
a devil. Nay, nothing so much dis
tinguished the spiritual truth of Judaism
and Christianity from abominable
heathenism as this very discernment
of God’s purity, justice, mercy, truth,
goodness, while the Pagan worshipped
mere power, and had no discernment of
moral excellence, but laid down the
principle that cruelty, impurity, or caprice
in a god was to be treated reverentially,
�44
CALVINISM ABANDONED
and called by some more decorous
name. Hence, I said, it was under
mining the very foundation of Chris
tianity itself to require belief of the
validity of Rom. ix. 14-24, as my friend
understood it. I acknowledged the
difficulty of the passage, and of the
whole argument. I was not prepared
with an interpretation ; but I revered
St. Paul too much to believe it possible
that he could mean anything so obviously
heathenish as that first-sight meaning.
My friend looked grave and anxious;
but I did not suspect how deeply I had
shocked him until many weeks after.
At this very time, moreover, ground
was broken in my mind on a new subject,
by opening in a gentleman’s library a
presentation-copy of a Unitarian treatise
against the doctrine of eternal punish
ment. It was the first Unitarian book
of which I had even seen the outside,
and I handled it with a timid curiosity,
as if by stealth. I had only time to dip
into it here and there, and I should
have been ashamed to possess the book ;
but I carried off enough to suggest
important inquiry. The writer asserted
that the Greek word atwvios (secular, or
belonging to the ages), which we translate
everlasting and eternal, is distinctly
proved by the Greek translation of the
Old Testament often to mean only
distant time. Thus in Psalm lxxvi. 5,
“ I have considered the years of ancient
times”; Isaiahlxiii. n, “Heremembered
the days of old, Moses and his people”;
in which, and in many similar places,
the LXX. have «wtos. One striking
passage is Exodus xv. 18 (“Jehovah
shall reign for ever and ever ”), where
the Greek has tot atwva Kai or’ aiwa Kai
eri, which would mean “for eternity
and still longer,” if the strict rendering
eternity were enforced. At the same
time a suspicion as to the honesty of
our translation presented itself in Micah
v. 2, a controversial text, often used to
prove the past eternity of the Son of
God, where the translators give us,
“whose goings forth have been from
everlastingthough the Hebrew is the
same as they elsewhere render from days
of old.
After I had at leisure searched through
this new question, I found that it was
impossible to make out any doctrine of a
philosophical eternity in the whole Scrip
tures. The true Greek word for eternal
(dittos) occurs twice only; once in
Rom. i. 20, as applied to the divine
power, and once in Jude 6, of the fire
which has been manifested against Sodom
and Gomorrha. The last instance showed
that allowance must be made for rhetoric;
and that fire is called eternal or unquench
able when it so destroys as to leave no
thing unbumt. But, on the whole, the
very vocabulary of the Greek and Hebrew
denoted that the idea of absolute eternity
was unformed. The hills are called ever
lasting (secular ?) by those who supposed
them to have come into existence two or
three thousand years before. Only in
two passages of the Revelations I could
not get over the belief that the writer’s
energy was misplaced, if absolute eternity
of torment was not intended; yet it
seemed to me unsafe and wrong to found
an important doctrine on a symbolic and
confessedly obscure book of prophecy.
Setting this aside, I found no proof of
any eternal punishment.
As soon as the load of Scriptural
authority was thus taken off from me, I
had a vivid discernment of intolerable
moral difficulties inseparable from the
doctrine. First, that every sin is infinite
in ill-desert and in result, because it is
committed against an infinite Being.
Thus the fretfulness of a child is an
infinite evil! I was aghast that I could
have believed it. Now that it was no
longer laid upon me as a duty to uphold
the infinitude of God’s retaliation on sin, I
saw that it was an immorality to teach that
sin was measured by anything else than
the heart and will of the agent. That a
finite being should deserve infinite punish
ment now was manifestly as incredible as
that he should deserve infinite reward,
which I had never dreamed. Again, I
saw that the current orthodoxy made
Satan eternal conqueror over Christ. In
�CA L VINISM A BA ND ONED
vain does the Son of God come from
heaven and take human flesh and die on
the cross. In spite of him the devil
carries off to hell the vast majority of
mankind, in whom not misery only, but
sin, is triumphant for ever. Thus Christ
not only does not succeed in destroying
the works of the devil, but even aggra
vates them. Again, what sort of gospel
or glad tidings had I been holding ?
Without this revelation no future state at
all, I presumed, could be known. How
much better no futurity for any than that
a few should be eternally in bliss and the
great majority1 kept alive for eternal sin
as well as eternal misery ! My gospel
then was bad tidings—nay, the worst of
tidings I In a farther progress of thought,
I asked, would it not have been better
that the whole race of man had never
come into existence ? Clearly I And
thus God was made out to be unwise in
creating them. No use in the punish
ment was imaginable without setting up
fear, instead of love, as the ruling prin
ciple in the blessed. And what was the
moral tendency of the doctrine ? I had
never borne to dwell upon it; but I
before long suspected that it promoted
malignity and selfishness, and was the
real clue to the cruelties perpetrated
under the name of religion. For he who
does dwell on it must comfort himself
under the prospect of his brethren’s
eternal misery by the selfish expectation
of personal blessedness. When I asked
whether I had been guilty of this selfish
ness, I remembered that I had often
mourned how small a part in my prac
tical religion the future had ever borne.
My heaven and my hell had been in the
present, where my God was near me to
smile or to frown. It had seemed to
me a great weakness in my faith that I
never had any vivid imaginations or
1 I really thought it needless to quote proof
that but few will be saved (Matt. vii. 14). I
know there is a class of Christians who believe
in universal salvation, and there are others who
disbelieve eternal torment. They must not be
angry with me for refuting the doctrine of other
Christians which they hold to be false.
45
strong desires of heavenly glory; yet
now I was glad to observe that it had at
least saved me from getting so much
harm from the wrong side of the doctrine
of a future life.
Before I had worked out the objec
tions so fully as here stated, I freely
disclosed my thoughts to the friend last
named, and to his wife, towards whom
he encouraged me to exercise the fullest
frankness. I confess I said nothing
about the Unitarian book, for something
told me that I had violated Evangelical
decorum in opening it, and that I could
not calculate how it would affect my
friend. Certainly no Romish hierarchy
can so successfully exclude heretical
books, as social enactment excludes
those of Unitarians from our orthodox
circles. The bookseller dares not to
exhibit their books on his counter; all
presume them to be pestilential; no one
knows their contents or dares to inform
himself. But to return. My friend’s
wife entered warmly into my new views ;
I have now no doubt that this exceed
ingly distressed him, and at length
perverted his moral judgment; he him
self examined the texts of the Old
Testament and attempted no answer to
them. After I had left his neighbour
hood I wrote to him three affectionate
letters, and at last got a reply—of
vehement accusation. It can now con
cern no one to know how many and
deep wounds he planted in me. I
forgave, but all was too instructive to
forget.
For some years I rested in the belief
that the epithet “secular punishment”
either solely denoted punishment in a
future age, or else only of long duration.
This evades the horrible idea of eternal
and triumphant sin, and of infinite
retaliation for finite offences. But still
I found my new creed uneasy, now that
I had established a practice (if not a right)
of considering the moral propriety of
punishment. I could not so pare away
the vehement words of the Scripture as
really to enable me to say that I thought
transgressors deserved the fiery infliction,
�46
CA L VINISM A BA NDONED
This had been easy while I measured
their guilt by God’s greatness; but, when
that idea was renounced, how was I to
think that a good-humoured voluptuary
deserved to be raised from the dead in
order to be tormented in fire for a
hundred years ? And what shorter time
could be called secular ? Or if he was
to be destroyed instantaneously, and
“ secular” meant only “in a future age,”
was he worth the effort of a divine
miracle to bring him to life and again
annihilate him? I was not willing to
refuse belief to the Scripture on such
grounds ; yet I felt disquietude that my
moral sentiment and the Scripture were
no longer in full harmony.
In this period I first discerned the
extreme difficulty that there must essen
tially be in applying to the Christian
Evidences a principle which, many years
before, I had abstractedly received as
sound, though it had been a dead letter
with me in practice. The Bible, it
seemed, contained two sorts of truth.
Concerning one sort, man is bound to
judge; the other sort is necessarily
beyond his ken, and is received only by
information from without. The first
part of the statement cannot be denied.
It would be monstrous to say that we
know nothing of geography, history, or
morals, except by learning them from the
Bible. Geography, history, and other
worldly sciences lie beyond question.
As to morals, I had been exceedingly
inconsistent and wavering in my theory
and in its application ; but it now glared
upon me that, if man had no independent
power of judging, it would have been
venial to think Barabbas more virtuous
than Jesus. The hearers of Christ or
Paul could not draw their knowledge of
right and wrong from the New Testa
ment. They had (or needed to have) an
inherent power of discerning that his
conduct was holy and his doctrine good.
To talk about the infirmity or depravity
of the human conscience is here quite
irrelevant. The conscience of Christ’s
hearers may have been dim or twisted,
but it was their best guide and only
guide as to the question whether to
regard him as a holy prophet; so, like
wise, as to ourselves, it is evident that
we have no guide at all whether to
accept or reject the Bible, if we distrust
that inward power of judging (whether
called common sense, conscience, or the
Spirit of God) which is independent of
our belief in the Bible. To disparage
the internally vouchsafed power of
discerning truth without the Bible or
other authoritative system is to endeavour
to set up a universal moral scepticism.
He who may not criticise cannot approve.
Well 1 Let it be admitted that we
discern moral truth by a something
within us, and that then, admiring the
truth so glorious in the Scriptures, we
are farther led to receive them as the
word of God, and therefore to believe
them absolutely in respect to the matters
which are beyond our ken.
But two difficulties could no longer be
dissembled : i. How are we to draw the
line of separation ? For instance, would
the doctrines of reprobation and of last
ing fiery torture, with no benefit to the
sufferers, belong to the moral part, which
we freely criticise; or to the extra moral
part, as to which we passively believe ?
2. What is to be done if in the parts
which indisputably lie open to criticism
we meet with apparent error ?
The
second question soon became a practical
one with me; but for the reader’s con
venience I defer it until my Fourth
Period, to which it more naturally
belongs; for in this Third Period I was
principally exercised with controversies
that do not vitally touch the authority
of the Scripture. Of these the most
important were matters contested be’
tween Unitarians and Calvinists,
When I found how exactly the Nicene
Creed summed up all that I myself
gathered from John and Paul concerning
the divine nature of Christ, I naturally
referred to this Creed, as expressing my
�CA L VINTSM A BA NDONED
convictions, when any unpleasant in
quiry arose. I had recently gained the
acquaintance of the late excellent Dr.
Olinthus Gregory, a man of unimpeached
orthodoxy, who met me by the frank
avowal that the Nicene Creed was “ a
great mistake.” He said that the Arian
and the Athanasian difference was not
very vital, and that the Scriptural truth
lay beyond the Nicene doctrine, which
fell short on the same side as Arianism
had done. On the contrary, I had
learned of an intermediate tenet, called
Semi-Arianism, which appeared to me
more Scriptural than the views of either
Athanasius or Arius. Let me bespeak
my reader’s patience for a little. Arius
was judged by Athanasius (I was
informed) to be erroneous in two points :
(i) in teaching that the Son of God was
a creature—i.e., that “begotten” and
“ made ” were two words for the same
idea; (2) in teaching that he had an
origin of existence in time, so that there
was a distant period at which he was not.
Of these two Arian tenets, the Nicene
Creed condemned the former only—
namely, in the words, “begotten, not
made; being of one substance with the
Father.” But on the latter question the
Creed is silent. Those who accepted
the Creed, and hereby condemned the
great error of Arius that the Son was of
different substance from the Father, but
nevertheless agreed with Arius in thinking
that the Son had a beginning of exist
ence, were called Semi-Arians, and were
received into communion by Athanasius,
in spite of this disagreement. To me it
seemed to be a most unworthy shuffling
with words to say that the Son was
begotten, but was never begotten. The
very form of our past participle is invented
to indicate an event in past time. If the
Athanasians alleged that the phrase does
not allude to “ a coming forth ” com
pleted at a definite time, but indicates a
process at no time begun and at no time
complete, their doctrine could not be
expressed by our past-perfect tense
begotten.
When they compared the
derivation of the Son of God from the
47
Father to the rays of light which ever
flow from the natural sun, and argued
that if that sun had been eternal its
emanations would be co-eternal, they
showed that their true doctrine required
the formula—“always being begotten,
and as instantly perishing, in order to be
rebegotten perpetually.” They showed
a real disbelief in our English statement,
“ begotten, not made.” I overruled the
objection that in the Greek it was not a
participle, but a verbal adjective; for it
was manifest to me that a religion which
could not be proclaimed in English
could not be true ; and the very idea of
a creed announcing that Christ was “ not
begotten, yet begettive,” roused in me an
unspeakable loathing. Yet surely this
would have been Athanasius’s most
legitimate form of denying Semi-Arian
ism. In short, the Scriptural phrase
Son of God conveyed to us either a
literal fact or a metaphor. If literal, the
Semi-Arians were clearly right in saying
that sonship implied a beginning of
existence. If it was a metaphor, the
Athanasians forfeited all right to press
the literal sense in proof that the Son
must be “ of the same substance ” as the
Father. Seeing that the Athanasians, in
zeal to magnify the Son, had so con
founded their good sense, I was cer
tainly startled to find a man of Dr.
Olinthus Gregory’s moral wisdom treat
the Nicenists as in obvious error for not
having magnified Christ enough. On so
many other sides, however, I met with
the new and short creed, “Jesus is
Jehovah,” that I began to discern Sabellianism to be the prevalent view.
A little later I fell in with a book of
an American professor, Moses Stuart
of Andover, on the subject of the
Trinity.
Professor Stuart is a very
learned man, and thinks for himself. It
was a great novelty to me to find him
not only deny the orthodoxy of all the
Fathers (which was little more than Dr.
Olinthus Gregory had done), but avow
that from the change in speculative philo
sophy it was simply impossible for any
modern to hold the views prevalent in the
�4§
CAL VINISM ABANDONED
third and fourth centuries. Nothing (said
he) was clearer than that with us the essen
tial point in Deity is to be unoriginated,
underived; hence, with us, a derived God
is a self-contradiction, and the very sound
of the phrase profane. On the other
hand, it is certain that the doctrine of
Athanasius, equally as of Arius, was that
the Father is the underived or self-exis
tent God, but the Son is the derived,
subordinate God. This (argued Stuart)
turned upon their belief in the doctrine
of emanations ; but, as we hold no such
philosophical doctrine, the religious
theory founded on it is necessarily
inadmissible.
Professor Stuart then
developes his own creed, which appeared
to me simple and undeniable Sabellianism.
That Stuart correctly represented the
Fathers was clear enough to me, but I
nevertheless thought that in this respect
the Fathers had honestly made out the
doctrine of the Scripture, and I did
not at all approve of setting up a
battery of modern speculative philo
sophy against Scriptural doctrine. “How
are we to know that the doctrine
of emanations is false ? (asked I). If it
is legitimately elicited from Scripture, it
is true.” I refused to yield up my creed
at this summons. Nevertheless, he left
a wound upon me, for I now could not
help seeing that we moderns use the
word God in a more limited sense than
any ancient nations did. Hebrews and
Greeks alike said Gods to mean any
superhuman beings ; hence derived God
did not sound to them absurd; but I
could not deny that in good English it
is absurd. This was a very disagreeable
discovery, for now, if anyone were to
ask me whether I believed in the
divinity of Christ, I saw it would be
dishonest to say simply Yes, for the
interrogator means to ask whether I hold
Christ to be the eternal and underived
Source of life; yet if I said No he
would care nothing for my professing to
hold the Nicene Creed.
Might not then, after all, Sabellianism
be the truth ? No; I discerned too
plainly what Gibbon states, that the
Sabellian, if consistent, is only a con
cealed Ebionite, or, as we now say, a
Unitarian, Socinian. As we cannot
admit that the Father was slain on the
Cross, or prayed to himself in the garden,
he who will not allow the Father and
the Son to be separate persons, but only
two names for one person, must divide
the Son of God and Jesus into two
persons, and so fall back on the very
heresy of Socinus which he is struggling
to escape.
On the whole, I saw that, however
people might call themselves Trini
tarians, yet if, like Stuart and all the
Evangelicals in Church and Dissent,
they turn into a dead letter the genera
tion of the Son of God and the proces
sion of the Spirit, nothing is possible but
Sabellianism or Tritheism, or, indeed,
Ditheism, if the Spirit’s separate per
sonality is not held. The modern creed
is alternately the one or the other, as
occasion requires. Sabellians would find
themselves out to be mere Unitarians if
they always remained Sabellians; but, in
fact, they are half their lives Ditheists.
They do not aim at consistency—would
an upholder of the pseudo-Athanasian
Creed desire it ? Why, that Creed
teaches that the height of orthodoxy is
to contradict oneself and protest that
one does not. Now, however, rose on
me the question : Why do I not take
the Irish clergyman at his word, and
attack him and others as idolaters and
worshippers of three Gods ? It was
unseemly and absurd in him to try to
force me into what he must have judged
uncharitableness ; but it was not the less
incumbent on me to find a reply.
I remembered that in past years I had
expressly disowned, as obviously unScriptural and absurd, prayers to the
Holy Spirit, on the ground that the
Spirit is evidently God in the hearts of
the faithful, and nothing else; and it
did not appear to me that any but a few
extreme and rather fanatical persons
could be charged with making the Spirit
a third God or object of distinct worship.
�CA L VINISM A BA ND ONED
On the other hand, I could not deny
that the Son and the Father were thus
distinguished to the mind. So, indeed,
John expressly avowed: “Truly our
fellowship is with the Father, and with
his Son Jesus Christ.” I myself also
had prayed sometimes to God and
sometimes to Christ, alternately and
confusedly. Now, indeed, I was better
taught; now I was more logical and
consistent! I had found a triumphant
answer to the charge of Ditheism, in
that I believed the Son to be derived
from the Father, and not to be the
Unoriginated. No doubt! Yet, after
all, could I seriously think that morally
and spiritually I was either better or
worse for this discovery? I could not
pretend that I was.
This showed me that, if a man of
partially unsound and visionary mind
made the angel Gabriel a fourth person
in the Godhead, it might cause no
difference whatever in the actings of his
spirit. The great question would be
whether he ascribed the same moral
perfection to Gabriel as to the Father.
If so, to worship him would be no
degradation to the soul, even if absolute
omnipotence were not attributed—nay,
nor a past eternal existence. It thus
became clear to me that polytheism, as
such, is not a moral and spiritual, but at
most only an intellectual, error, and that
its practical evil consists in worshipping
beings whom we represent to our imagi
nations as morally imperfect. Conversely,
one who imputes to God sentiments and
conduct which in man he would call
capricious or cruel, such a one, even if
he be as monotheistic as a Mussulman,
admits into his soul the whole virus of
idolatry.
Why, then, did I at all cling to the
doctrine of Christ’s, superior nature, and
not admit it among things indifferent?
In obedience to the Scripture, I did
actually affirm that, as far as creed is
concerned, a man should be admissible
into the Church on the bare confession
that Jesus was the Christ. Still, I
regarded a belief in his superhuman
49
origin as of first-rate importance for
many reasons, and, among others, owing
to its connection with the doctrine of the
Atonement, on which there is much to
be said.
The doctrine which I used to read
as a boy taught that a vast sum of
punishment was due to God for the sins
of men. This vast sum was made up of
all the woes due through eternity to the
whole human race, or, as some said, to
the elect. Christ on the cross bore this
punishment himself, and thereby took it
away; thus God is enabled to forgive
without violating justice. But I early
encountered unanswerable difficulty, on
this theory, as to the question whether
Christ had borne the punishment of all,
or of some only. If of all, is it not
unjust to inflict any of it on any ? If of
the elect only, what Gospel have you to
preach ? for then you cannot tell sinners
that God has provided a Saviour for
them, for you do not know whether
those whom you address are elect.
Finding no way out of this, I abandoned
the fundamental idea of compensation in
quantity as untenable, and rested in the
vaguer notion that God signally showed
his abhorrence of sin by laying tremen
dous misery on the Saviour who was to
bear away sin.
I have already narrated how at Oxford
I was embarrassed as to the forensic
propriety of transferring punishment at
all. This, however, I received as matter
of authority, and rested much on the
wonderful exhibition made of the evil of
sin, when such a being could be sub
jected to preternatural suffering as a
vicarious sin-bearer. To this view a high
sense of the personal dignity of Jesus
was quite essential, and therefore I had
always felt a great repugnance for Mr.
Belsham, Dr. Priestley, and the Uni
tarians of that school, though I had not
read a line of their writings.
A more intimate familiarity with St.
Paul, and an anxious harmonising of my
very words to the Scripture, led me on
into a deviation from the popular creed
�50
CA L VINISM A BA NDONEE)
of the full importance of which I was not
for some time aware. I perceived that
it is not the agonies of mind or body
endured by Christ which in the Scrip
tures are said to take away sin, but his
“ death,” his “ laying down his life,” or
sometimes even his resurrection. I
gradually became convinced that when
his “suffering,” or more especially his
“blood,” is emphatically spoken of,
nothing is meant but his violent death.
In the Epistle to the Hebrews, where
the analogy of sacrifice is so pressed, we
see that the pains which Jesus bore were
in order that he might “ learn obedi
ence
but our redemption is effected
by his dying as a voluntary victim, in
which death by bloodshed, not pain, is
the cardinal point. So, too, the Paschal
lamb (to which, though not properly a
sacrifice, the dying Christ is compared
by Paul) was not roasted alive, or other
wise put to slow torment, but was simply
killed. I therefore saw that the doctrine
of “vicarious agonies” was funda
mentally un-Scriptural.
This being fully discerned, I at last
became bold to criticise the popular
tenet. What should we think of a judge
who, when a boy had deserved a stripe
which would to him have been a sharp
punishment, laid the very same blow on
a strong man, to whom it was a slight
infliction ? Clearly this would evade,
not satisfy, justice. To carry out the
principle, the blow might be laid as well
on a giant, an elephant, or on an inani
mate thing. So, to lay our punishment
on the infinite strength of Christ, who
(they say) bore in six hours what it
would have taken thousands of millions
of men all eternity to bear, would be a
similar evasion. I farther asked, if we
were to fall in with pagans who tortured
their victims to death as an atonement,
what idea of God should we think them
to form, and what should we reply if
they said it gave them a wholesome view
of his hatred of sin ? A second time I
shuddered at the notions which I had
once imbibed as a part of religion, and
then got comfort from the inference how
much better men of this century are than
their creed. Their creed was the product
of ages of cruelty and credulity, and it
sufficiently bears that stamp.
Thus I rested in the Scriptural doc
trine that the death of Christ is our
atonement. To say the same of the
death of Paul was obviously unscriptural.
It was, then, essential to believe the
physical nature of Christ to be different
from that of Paul. If otherwise, death
was due to Jesus as the lot of nature ;
how could such death have anything to
do with our salvation ? On this ground
the Unitarian doctrine was utterly un
tenable. I could see nothing between
my own view and a total renunciation of
the authority of the doctrines promulgated
by Paul and John.
Nevertheless, my own view seemed
more and more unmeaning the more
closely it was interrogated. When I
ascribed death to Christ, what did death
mean? And what or whom did I sup
pose to die ? Was it man that died, or
God ? If man only, how was that
wonderful, or how did it concern us?
Besides, persons die, not natures. A
nature is only a collection of properties.
If Christ was one person, all Christ died.
Did, then, God die, and man remain
alive ? For God to become non-existent
is an unimaginable absurdity. But is
this death a mere change of state, a
renunciation of earthly life ? . Still . it
remains unclear how the parting with
mere human life could be to one who
possesses divine life either an atonement
or a humiliation. Was it not rather an
escape from humiliation, saving only the
mode of death ? So severe was this diffi
culty that at length I unawares dropped
from semi-Arianism into pure Arianism,
by so distinguishing the Son from the
Father as to admit the idea that the Son
of God had actually been non-existent in
the interval between death and resurrec
tion. Nevertheless, I more and more
felt that to he able to define my own
notions on such questions had exceedingly
little to do with my spiritual state. For
me it was important and essential to
�CALVINISM ABANDONED
know that God hated sin, and that God
had forgiven my sin. But to know one
particular manifestation of his hatred of
sin, or the machinery by which he had
enabled himself to forgive, was of very
secondary importance. When he pro
claims to me in his word that he is for
giving to all the penitent, it is not for me
to reply that “ I cannot believe that until
I hear how he manages to reconcile such
conduct with his other attributes.” Yet
I remembered this was Bishop Beve
ridge’s sufficient refutation of Moham
medanism, which teaches no atonement.
At the same time great progress had
been made in my mind towards the
overthrow of the correlative dogma of
the fall of man and his total corruption.
Probably for years I had been unawares
anti-Calvinistic on this topic. Even at
Oxford I had held that human depravity
is a fact which it is absurd to argue
against; a fact attested by Thucydides,
Polybius, Horace, and Tacitus almost as
strongly as by St. Paul. Yet in admit
ting man’s total corruption I interpreted
this of spiritual, not of moral, perver
sion ; for that there were kindly and
amiable qualities even in the unre
generate was quite as clear a fact as any
other. Hence, in result I did not attri
bute to man any great essential depravity
in the popular and moral sense of the
word; and the doctrine amounted only
to this, that “ spiritually man is para
lysed until the grace of God comes
freely upon him.” How to reconcile
this with the condemnation and punish
ment of man for being unspiritual I knew
not. I saw, and did not dissemble, the
difficulty, but received it as a mystery
hereafter to be cleared up.
But it gradually broke upon me that,
when Paul said nothing stronger than
heathen moralists had said about human
wickedness, it was absurd to quote his
words any more than theirs in proof of a
fall—that is, of a permanent degeneracy
induced by the first sin of the first man ;
and when I studied the fifth chapter of
the Romans I found it was death, not
corruption, which Adam was said to have
entailed. In short, I could scarcely find
the modern doctrine of the “ Fall ” any
where in the Bible. I then remembered
that Calvin, in his Institutes, complains
that all the Fathers are heterodox on
this point, the Greek Fathers being
grievously overweening in their estimate
of human power; while of the Latin
Fathers even Augustine is not always up
to Calvin’s mark of orthodoxy. This
confirmed my rising conviction that the
tenet is of rather recent origin. I after
wards heard that both it and the doctrine
of compensatory misery were first syste
matised by Archbishop Anselm in the
reign of our William Rufus; but I never
took the pains to verify this.
For meanwhile I had been forcibly
impressed with the following thought.
Suppose a youth to have been carefully
brought up at home, and every tempta
tion kept out of his way; suppose him
to have been in appearance virtuous,
amiable, religious ; suppose, farther, that
at the age of twenty-one he goes out into
the world and falls into sin by the first
temptation; how will a Calvinistic teacher
moralise over such a youth? Will he
not say : “ Behold a proof of the essen
tial depravity of human nature ! See the
affinity of man for sin ! How fair and
deceptive was this young man’s virtue
while he was sheltered from temptation ;
but oh ! how rotten has it proved itself!”
Undoubtedly, the Calvinist would and
must so moralise. But it struck me that,
if I substituted the name of Adam for
the youth, the argument proved the
primitive corruption of Adam’s nature.
Adam fell by the first temptation; what
greater proof of a fallen nature have I
ever given ? Or what is it possible for
anyone to give ? I thus discerned that
there was a priori impossibility of fixing
on myself the imputation of degeneracy
without fixing the same on Adam. In
short, Adam undeniably proved his
primitive nature to be frail; so do we
all; but as he was nevertheless not
primitively corrupt, why should we call
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CALVINISM ABANDONED
ourselves so?
Frailty, then, is not
corruption, and does not prove degene
racy.
“ Original sin ” (says one of the Thirtynine Articles) “standeth not in the follow
ing of Adam, as the Pelagians do vainly
talk” etc. Alas, then ! was I become a
Pelagian ? Certainly I could no longer
see that Adam’s first sin affected me
more than his second or third, or so
much as the sins of my immediate
parents. A father who, for instance,
indulges in furious passions and exciting
liquors may, I suppose, transmit violent
passions to his son. In this sense I
could not wholly reject the possibility of
transmitted corruption; but it had no
thing to do with the theological doctrine
of the “federal headship” of Adam. Not
that I could wholly give up this last
doctrine, for I still read it in the fifth
chapter of Romans. But it was clear to
me that, whatever that meant, I could not
combine it with the idea of degeneracy ;
nor could I find a proof of it in the fact
of prevalent wickedness. Thus I received
a shadowy doctrine on mere Scriptural
authority; it had no longer any root in
my understanding or heart.
Moreover, it was manifest to me that
the Calvinistic view is based in a vain
attempt to acquit God of having created
a “ sinful ” being, while the broad Scrip
tural fact is that he did create a being as
truly “ liable to sin ” as any of us. If
that needs no exculpation, how more
does our state need it? Does it not
suffice to say that “ every creature,
because he is a creature and not God,
must necessarily be frail”? But Calvin
intensely aggravates whatever there is of
difficulty, for he supposes God to have
created the most precious thing on earth
in unstable equilibrium, so as to tipple
over irrecoverably at the first infinitesimal
touch, and with it wreck for ever the
spiritual hopes of all Adam’s posterity.
Surely all nature proclaims that, if God
planted any spiritual nature at all in man,
it was in stable equilibrium, able to right
itself when deranged.
Lastly, I saw that the Calvinistic doc
trine of human degeneracy teaches that
God disowns my nature (the only nature
I ever had) as not his work, but the
devil’s work. He hereby tells me that
he is not my Creator, and he disclaims
his right over me, as a father who dis
owns a child. To teach this is to teach
that I owe him no obedience, no worship,
no trust; to sever the cords that bind
the creature to the Creator, and to make
all religion gratuitous and vain.
Thus Calvinism was found by me not
only not to be Evangelical, but not to be
logical, in spite of its high logical preten
sions, and to be irreconcilable with
any intelligent theory of religion. Of
“gloomy Calvinism” I had often heard
people speak with an emphasis that
annoyed me as highly unjust; for mine
had not been a gloomy religion—far,
very far, from it. On the side of eternal
punishment its theory, no doubt, had
been gloomy enough ; but human nature
has a notable art of not realising all the
articles of a creed; moreover, this doc
trine is equally held by Arminians. But
I was conscious that in dropping Calvin
ism I had lost nothing Evangelical; on
the contrary, the gospel which I retained
was as spiritual and deep-hearted as
before, only more merciful.
Before this Third Period of my creed
was completed I made my first acquaint
ance with a Unitarian. This gentleman
showed much sweetness of mind, large
ness of charity, and a timid devoutness
which I had not expected in such a
quarter. His mixture of credulity and
incredulity seemed to me capricious and
wholly incoherent. First, as to his in
credulity, or, rather, boldness of thought.
Eternal punishment was a notion which
nothing could make him believe, and for
which it would be useless to quote Scrip
ture to him; for the doctrine, he said,
darkened the moral character of God
and produced malignity in man. That
Christ had any higher nature than we
all have was a tenet essentially inadmis
sible ; first, because • it destroyed all
�CALVINISM ABANDONED
moral benefit from his example and
sympathy, and next because no one has
yet succeeded in even stating the doc
trine of the Incarnation without contra
dicting himself. If Christ was but one
person, one mind, then that one mind
could not be simultaneously finite and
infinite, nor therefore simultaneously
God and man. But when I came to
hear more from this same gentleman, I
found him to avow that no Trinitarian
could have a higher conception than he
of the present power and glory of Christ.
He believed that the man Jesus is at the
head of the whole moral creation of God;
that all power in heaven and earth is
given to him; that he will be Judge of
all men, and is himself raised above all
judgment. This was to me unimaginable
from his point of view. Could he really
think Jesus to be a mere man, and yet
believe him to be sinless ? On what did
that belief rest? Two texts were quoted
in proof, i Pet. ii. 22 and Heb. iv. 15.
Of these, the former did not necessarily
mean anything more than that Jesus was
unjustly- put to death; and the latter
belonged to an Epistle which my new
friend had already rejected as unapostolic
and not of first-rate authority when speak
ing of the Atonement. Indeed, that the
Epistle to the Hebrews is not from the
hand of Paul had very long seemed to
me an obvious certainty—as long as I
had had any delicate feeling of Greek
style.
That a human child, bom with the
nature of other children, and having to
learn wisdom and win virtue through the
same process, should grow up sinless
appeared to me an event so paradoxical
as to need the most amply decisive
proof. Yet what kind of proof was pos
sible? Neither Apollos (if he was the
author of the Epistle to the Hebrews)
nor yet Peter had any power of attesting
the sinlessness of Jesus as a fact known
to themselves personally; they could
only learn it by some preternatural com
munication, to which, nevertheless, the
passages before us implied no preten
sion whatever. To me it appeared an
53
axiom1 that, if Jesus was in physical origin
a mere man, he was, like myself, a sinful
man, and therefore certainly not my
Judge, certainly not an omniscient reader
of all hearts, nor on any account to be
bowed down to as Lord. To exercise
hope, faith, trust in him, seemed then an
impiety. I did not mean to impute
impiety to Unitarians; still, I distinctly
believed that English Unitarianism could
never afford me a half-hour’s restingplace.
Nevertheless, from contact with this
excellent person I learned how much
tenderness of spirit a Unitarian may
have; and it pleasantly enlarged my
charity, although I continued to feel
much repugnance for his doctrine, and
was anxious and constrained in the
presence of Unitarians. From the same
collision with him I gained a fresh
insight into a part of my own mind.
I had always regarded the Gospels (at
least, the first three) to be to the Epistles
nearly as Law to Gospel—that is, the
three Gospels dealt chiefly in precept, the
Epistles in motives which act on the
affections. This did not appear to me
dishonourable to the teaching of Christ;
for I supposed it to be a pre-determined
development. But I now discovered
that there was a deeper distaste in me
for the details of the human life of
Christ than I was previously conscious
of—a distaste which I found out by a
reaction from the minute interest felt in
such details by my new friend. For
several years more I did not fully under
stand how and why this was—viz., that
my religion had always been Pauline.
Christ was to me the ideal of glorified
human nature ; but I needed some dim
ness in the portrait to give play to my
imagination—if drawn too sharply his
torical, it sank into something not
superhuman, and caused a revulsion of
feeling. As all paintings of the miracu
lous used to displease and even disgust
me from a boy by the unbelief which
1 In this (second) edition I have added an
entire chapter expressly on the subject.
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CALVINISM ABANDONED
they inspired, so, if anyone dwelt on the
special proofs of tenderness and love
exhibited in certain words or actions of
Jesus, it was apt to call out in me a
sense that from day to day equal kind
ness might often be met. The imbecility
of preachers who would dwell on such
words as “Weep not,” as if nobody else
ever uttered such, had always annoyed
me. I felt it impossible to obtain a
worthy idea of Christ from studying any
of the details reported concerning him.
If I dwelt too much on these, I got a
finite object, but I yearned for an infinite
one; hence my preference for John’s
mysterious Jesus. Thus my Christ was
not the figure accurately painted in the
narrative, but one kindled in my imagi
nation by the allusions and (as it were)
poetry of the New Testament. I did
not wish for vivid historical realisation;
relics I could never have valued;
pilgrimages to Jerusalem had always
excited in me more of scorn than of
sympathy, and I make no doubt such
was fundamentally Paul’s1 feeling. On
the contrary, it began to appear to me
(and I believe not unjustly) that the
Unitarian mind revelled peculiarly in
“ Christ after the flesh,” whom Paul
resolved not to know. Possibly in this
circumstance will be found to lie the
strong and the weak points of the
Unitarian religious character as con
trasted with that of the Evangelical, far
more truly than in the doctrine of the
Atonement. I can testify that the
Atonement may be dropped out of
Pauline religion without affecting its
quality; so may Christ be spiritualised
into God and identified with the Father.
But I suspect that a Pauline faith could
not, without much violence and convul
sion, be changed into devout admiration
of a clearly drawn historical character,
as though any full and unsurpassable
embodiment of God’s moral perfections
could be exhibited with ink and pen.
A reviewer, who has since made his
name known, has pointed to the
preceding remarks as indicative of my
deficiency in imagination and my
tendency to romance. My dear friend
is undoubtedly right in the former point;
I am destitute of (creative) poetical
imagination ; and as to the latter point,
his insight into character is so great that
I readily believe him to know me better
than I know myself. Nevertheless, I
think he has mistaken the nature of the
preceding argument. I am, on the
contrary, almost disposed to say that
those have a tendency to romance who
can look at a picture with men flying
into the air, or on an angel with a brass
trumpet, and dead men rising out of
their graves with good stout muscles,
and not feel that the picture suggests
unbelief. Nor do I confess to romance,
in my desire of something more than
historical and daily human nature in the
character of Jesus; for all Christendom,
between the dates a.d. iooandA.D. 1850,
with the exception of small eccentric
coteries, has held Jesus to be essentially
superhuman. Paul and John so taught
concerning him.
To believe their
doctrine (I agree with my friend) is, in
some sense, a weakness of understanding,
but it is a weakness to which minds of
1 The same may probably be said of all the
Apostles and their whole generation. If they every class have been for ages liable.
had looked on the life of Jesus with the same
tender and human affection as modern Unitarians
and pious Romanists do, the Church would have
swarmed with holy coats and other relics in the
very first age. The mother of Jesus and her
little establishment would at once have swelled
into importance. This certainly was not the
case, which may make it doubtful whether the
other Apostles dwelt at all more on the hitman
personality of Jesus than Paul did. Strikingly
different as James is from Paul, he is in this
respect perfectly agreed with him.
Such had been the progress of my
mind towards the end of what I will call
my Third Period. In it the authority
of the Scriptures as to some details
(which at length became highly impor
tant) had begun to be questioned, of
which I shall proceed to speak; but
hitherto this was quite secondary to the
�THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
momentous revolution which lay Calvin
ism prostrate in my mind, which opened
my heart to Unitarians, and, I may say,
to unbelievers ; which enlarged all my
sympathies, and soon set me to practise
free moral thought, at least as a necessity,
if not as a duty. Yet I held fast an
unabated reverence for the moral and
spiritual teaching of the New Testament,
and had not the most remote conception
that anything could ever shatter my
belief in its great miracles. In fact,
during this period I many times yearned
to proceed to India, whither my friend
Groves had transferred his labours and
his hopes ; but I was thwarted by several
causes, and was again and again damped
by the fear of bigotry from new quarters.
Otherwise, I thought I could succeed in
55
merging as needless many controversies.
In all the workings of my mind about
Tri-unity, Incarnation, Atonement, the
Fall, Resurrection, Immortality, Eternal
Punishment, how little had any of these
to do with the inward exercises of my
soul towards God! He was still the
same, immutably glorious ; not one
feature of his countenance had altered
to my gaze, or could alter. This surely
was the God whom Christ came to
reveal and bring us into fellowship with ;
this is that about which Christians ought
to have no controversy, but which they
should unitedly, concordantly, themselves
enjoy and exhibit to the heathen. But
oh, Christendom ! what dost thou believe
and teach ? The heathen cry out to
thee—Physician, heal thyself.
Chapter IV.
THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
It has been stated that I had already
begun to discern that it was impossible
with perfect honesty to defend every
tittle contained in the Bible. Most of
the points which give moral offence in
the Book of Genesis I had been used to
explain away by the doctrine of Progress,
yet every now and then it became hard
to deny that God is represented as
giving an actual sanction to that which we
now call sinful. Indeed, up and down
the Scriptures very numerous texts are
scattered which are notorious difficulties
with commentators. These I had habitu
ally overruled one by one ; but again of
late, since I had been forced to act and
talk less and think more, they began to
encompass me. But I was for a while
too full of other inquiries to follow up
coherently any of my doubts or percep
tions, until my mind became at length
nailed down to the definite study of one
well-known passage.
This passage may be judged of ex
tremely secondary importance in itself,
yet, by its remoteness from all properly
spiritual and profound questions, it
seemed to afford to me the safest of
arguments. The genealogy with which
the Gospel of Matthew opens I had long
known to be a stumbling-block to
divines, and I had never been satisfied
with their explanations. On reading it
afresh, after long intermission, and com
paring it for myself with the Old Testa
ment, I was struck with observing that
the corruption of the two names Ahaziah
and Uzziah into the same sound (Oziah)
has been the cause of merging four
generations into one, as the similarity of
Jehoiakim to Jehoiachin also led to
blending them both in the name
Jeconiah. In consequence, there ought
to be eighteen generations where
Matthew has given us only fourteen;
yet we cannot call this an error of a
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THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
transcriber, for it is distinctly remarked
that the genealogy consists of fourteen,
three times repeated. Thus, there were
but fourteen names inserted by Matthew;
yet it ought to have been eighteen, and
he was under manifest mistake. This
surely belongs to a class of knowledge of
which man has cognisance ; it would not
be piety, but grovelling superstition, to
avow before God that I distrust my
powers of counting, and, in obedience to
the written word, I believe that eighteen
is fourteen and fourteen is eighteen.
Thus it is impossible to deny that there
is cognisable error in the first chapter of
Matthew. Consequently, that Gospel is
not all dictated by the Spirit of God,
and (unless we can get rid of the first
chapter as no part of the Bible)
the doctrine of the verbal infallibility
of the whole Bible, or, indeed, of
the New Testament, is demonstrably
false.
After I had turned the matter over
often, and had become accustomed to
the thought, this single instance at
length had great force to give boldness
to my mind within a very narrow range.
I asked whether, if the chapter were now
proved to be spurious, that would save
the infallibility of the Bible. The reply
was, Not of the Bible as it is, but only
of the Bible when cleared of that and of
all other spurious additions. If, by
independent methods, such as an exami
nation of manuscripts, the spuriousness
of the chapter could now be shown, this
would verify the faculty of criticism
which has already objected to its
contents ; thus it would justly urge us
to apply similar criticism to other
passages.
I farther remembered, and now brought
together under a single point of view,
other undeniable mistakes. The genea
logy of the nominal father of Jesus in
Luke is inconsistent with that in Matthew,
in spite of the flagrant dishonesty with
which divines seek to deny this ; and
neither Evangelist gives the genealogy
of Mary, which alone is wanted. In
Acts vii. 16 the land which Jacob bought
of the children of Hamor1 is confounded
with that which Abraham bought of
Ephron the Hittite. In Acts v. 36, 37,
Gamaliel is made to say that Theudas
was earlier in time than Judas of Galilee.
Yet, in fact, Judas of Galilee preceded
Theudas, and the revolt of Theudas had
not yet taken place when Gamaliel
spoke, so the error is not Gamaliel’s, but
Luke’s. Of both the insurgents we have
a clear and unimpeached historical
account in Josephus. The slaughter of
the infants by Herod, if true, must, I
thought, needs have been recorded by
the same historian. So, again, in regard
to the allusion made by Jesus to Zacha
rias son of Barachias, as last of the
martyrs, it was difficult for me to shake
off the suspicion that a gross error had
been committed, and that the person
intended is the “ Zacharias son of
Baruchus,” who, as we know from
Josephus, was martyred within the courts
of the temple during the siege of Jeru
salem by Titus, about forty years after
the crucifixion. The well-known prophet
Zechariah was indeed son of Berechiah,
but he was not last of the martyrs,2 if,
indeed, he was martyred at all. On the
whole, the persuasion stuck to me that
words had been put into the mouth of
Jesus which he could not possibly have
used. The impossibility of settling the
names of the Twelve Apostles struck me
as a notable fact. I farther remembered
the numerous difficulties of harmonising
the four Gospels; how, when a boy at
school, I had tried to incorporate all
four into one history, and the dismay
with which I had found the insoluble
character of the problem, the endless
discrepancies and perpetual uncer
tainties. These now began to seem to
1 See Gen. xxxiii. 19 and xlix. 29-32, xxiii.
2 Some, say that Zachariah, son of Jehoiada,
named in the Chronicles, is meant, that he is
confounded, with the prophet, the son of
Berechiah, and was supposed to be the last of
the martyrs because the Chronicles are placed
last in the Hebrew Bible. This is a plausible
view, but it saves the Scripture only by imputing
error to Jesus.
�THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
57
me inherent in the materials, and not to doctrine of headship and atonement
be ascribable to our want of intelligence. founded on it? If the world was not
I had also discerned in the opening of made in six days, how could we defend
Genesis things which could not be the Fourth Commandment as true,
literally received. The geography of the though said to have been written in
rivers in Paradise is inexplicable, though stone by the very finger of God? If
it assumes the tone of explanation. The Noah’s Deluge was a legend, we should
curse on the serpent, who is to go on at least have to admit that Peter did not
his belly (how else did he go before?) know this ; what, too, would be said of
and eat dust, is a capricious punishment Christ’s allusion to it ? I was unable to
on a race of brutes, one of whom the admit Dr. Arnold’s views ; but to see a
Devil chose to use as his instrument. vigorous mind, deeply imbued with
That the painfulness of childbirth is Christian devoutness, so convinced, both
caused not by Eve’s sin, but by artificial reassured me that I need not fear moral
habits and a weakened nervous system, mischiefs from free inquiry, and, indeed,
seems to be proved by the twofold fact laid that inquiry upon me as a duty.
Here, however, was a new point
that savage women and wild animals
suffer but little, and tame cattle often started. Does the question of the deri
suffer as much as human females. vation of the human race from two
About this time, also, I had perceived parents belong to things cognisable by
(what I afterwards learned the Germans the human intellect, or to things about
to have more fully investigated) that the which we must learn submissively ?
two different accounts of the Creation Plainly to the former. It would be
are distinguished by the appellations monstrous to deny that such inquiries
given to the Divine Creator. I did not legitimately belong to physiology, or to
see how to resist the inference that the proscribe a free study of this science.
book is made up of heterogeneous docu If so, there was an a priori possibility
ments, and was not put forth by the that what is in the strictest sense called
“ religious doctrine ” might come into
direct dictation of the Spirit to Moses.
A new stimulus was, after this, given direct collision not merely with my illto my mind by two short conversations trained conscience, but with legitimate
with the late excellent Dr. Arnold at science, and that this would call on me
Rugby. I had become aware of the to ask : “Which of the two certainties is
difficulties encountered by physiologists stronger—that the religious parts of the
in believing the whole human race to Scripture are infallible, or that the
have proceeded in about 6,000 years science is trustworthy?” And I then
from a single Adam and Eve, and that first saw that, while science had (within
the longevity (not miraculous, but ordi however limited a range of thought)
nary) attributed to the patriarchs was demonstrations or severe verifications, it
another stumbling-block. The geological was impossible to pretend to anything so
difficulties of the Mosaic cosmogony cogent in favour of the infallibility of
were also at that time exciting attention. any or some part of the Scriptures—a
It was a novelty to me that Arnold doctrine which I was accustomed to
treated these questions as matters of believe, and felt to be a legitimate pre
indifference to religion, and did not sumption, yet one of which it grew
hesitate to say that the account of harder and harder to assign any proof
Noah’s Deluge was evidently mythical, the more closely I analysed it. Never
and the history of Joseph “a beautiful theless, I still held it fast, and resolved
poem.” I was staggered at this. If all not to let it go until I was forced.
A fresh strain fell on the Scriptural
were not descended from Adam, what
became of St. Paul’s parallel between infallibility in contemplating the origin
the first and second Adam, and the of death. Geologists assured us that
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THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
death went on in the animal creation
many ages before the existence of man.
The rocks formed of the shells of animals
testify that death is a phenomenon
thousands of thousand years old; to
refer the death of animals to the sin of
Adam and Eve is evidently impossible.
Yet, if not, the analogies of the human
to the brute form make it scarcely
credible that man’s body can ever have
been - intended for immortality. Nay,
when we consider the conditions of birth
and growth to which it is subject, the
wear and tear essential to life, the new
generations intended to succeed and
supplant the old—so soon as the ques
tion is proposed as one of physiology—
the reply is inevitable that death is no
accident introduced by the perverse will
of our first parents, nor any way con
nected with man’s sinfulness, but is
purely a result of the conditions of
animal life. On the contrary, St. Paul
rests most important conclusions on the
fact that one man, Adam, by personal
sin, brought death upon all posterity. If
this was a fundamental error, religious
doctrine also is shaken.
In various attempts at compromise—
such as conceding the Scriptural fallibility
in human science, but maintaining its
spiritual perfection—I always found the
division impracticable. At last it pressed
on me that, if I admitted morals to rest
on an independent basis, it was dishonest
to shut my eyes to any apparent collisions
of morality with the Scriptures. A very
notorious and decisive instance is that of
Jael. Sisera, when beaten in battle, fled
to the tent of his friend Heber, and was
there warmly welcomed by Jael, Heber’s
wife. After she had refreshed him with
food and lulled him to sleep, she killed
him by driving a nail into his temples;
and for this deed, which nowadays would
be called a perfidious murder, the
prophetess Deborah, in an inspired
psalm, pronounces Jael to be “ blessed
above women,” and glorifies her act by
an elaborate description of its atrocity.
As soon as I felt that I was bound to
pass a moral judgment on this I saw
that, as regards the Old Testament, the
battle was already lost. Many other
things, indeed, instantly rose in full
power upon me, especially the command
to Abraham to slay his son. Paul and
James agree in extolling Abraham as the
pattern of faith; James and the author
of the Epistle to the Hebrews specify the
sacrifice of Isaac as a first-rate fruit of
faith; yet, if the voice of morality is
allowed to be heard, Abraham was (in
heart and intention) not less guilty than
those who sacrificed their children to
Molech.
Thus at length it appeared that I must
choose between two courses. I must
either blind my moral sentiment, my
powers of criticism, and my scientific
knowledge (such as they were) in order
to accept the Scripture entire; or I must
encounter the problem, however arduous,
of adjusting the relative claims of human
knowledge and divine revelation. As to
the former method, to name it was to
condemn it, for it would put every
system of Paganism on a par with
Christianity. If one system of religion
may claim that we blind our hearts and
eyes in its favour, so may another ; and
there is precisely the same reason for
becoming a Hindoo in religion as a
Christian. We cannot be both ; therefore
the principle is demonstrably absurd. It
is also, of course, morally horrible, and
opposed to countless passages of the
Scriptures themselves. Nor can the
argument be evaded by talking of
external evidences, for these also are
confessedly moral evidences, to be
judged of by our moral faculties. Nay,
according to all Christian advocates, they
are God’s test of our moral temper. To
allege, therefore, that our moral faculties
are not to judge is to annihilate the
evidences for Christianity. Thus, finally,
I was lodged in three inevitable conclu
sions :—
1. The moral and intellectual powers
of man must be acknowledged as having
a right and duty to criticise the contents
of the Scripture.
2. When so exerted they condemn
�THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
59
times? On the whole, I rather con
cluded that there is in nearly all English
education a positive repressing of a
young person’s truthfulness, for I could
distinctly see that in my own case there
was always need of defying authority and
public opinion—not to speak of more
serious sacrifices-—if I was to follow
truth. All society seemed so to hate
novelties of thought as to prefer the
chances of error in the old. Of course 1
When distinctly conscious, after long Why, how could it be otherwise while
efforts to evade it, that this was and must Test Articles were maintained ?
Yet surely, if God is truth, none
henceforth be my position, I ruminated
on the many auguries which had been sincerely aspire to him who dread to
made concerning me by frightened lose their present opinions in exchange
friends. “ You will become a Socinian,” for others truer. I had not then read a
had been said of me even at Oxford; sentence of Coleridge, which is to this
“You will become an infidel,” has since effect : “If anyone begins by loving
been added. My present results, I was Christianity more than the truth, he will
aware, would seem a sadly triumphant proceed to love his Church more than
confirmation to the clear-sighted instinct Christianity, and will end by loving his
of orthodoxy. But the animus of such own opinions better than either.” A
prophecies had always made me indig dim conception of this was in my mind,
nant, and I could not admit that there and I saw that the genuine love of God
was any merit in such clear-sightedness. was essentially connected with loving
What! (used I to say) will you shrink truth as truth, and not truth as our own
from truth, lest it lead to error? If accustomed thought, truth as our old
following truth must bring us to prejudice; and that the real saint can
Socinianism, let us by all means become never be afraid to let God teach him one
Socinians, or anything else. Surely we lesson more, or unteach him one more
do not love our doctrines more than the error. Then I rejoiced to feel how
truth, but because they are the truth. right and sound had been our principle,
Are we not exhorted to “ prove all that no creed can possibly be used as
things, and hold fast that which is the touchstone of spirituality, for man
good ” ? But, to my discomfort, I morally excels man, as far as creeds are
generally found that this (to me so con concerned, not by assenting to true
vincing) argument for feeling no alarm propositions, but by loving them because
only caused more and more alarm, and they are discerned to be true, and by
gloomier omens concerning me. On possessing a faculty of discernment
considering all this in leisurely retrospect, sharpened by the love of truth. Such
I began painfully to doubt whether, after are God’s true apostles, differing enor
all, there is much love of truth even mously in attainment and elevation, but
among those who have an undeniable all born to ascend. For these to quarrel
strength of religious feeling. I ques between themselves because they do not
tioned with myself whether love of truth agree in opinions is monstrous. Senti
is not a virtue demanding a robust ment, surely, not opinion, is the bond of
mental cultivation, whether mathematical the Spirit; and as the love of God, so
or other abstract studies may not be the love of truth is a high and sacred
practically needed for it. But no ; for sentiment, in comparison to which our
how then could it exist in some feminine creeds are mean.
Well, I had been misjudged, I had
natures ? how in rude and unphilosophical
portions of the Scripture as erroneous
and immoral.
3. The assumed infallibility of the
entire Scripture is a proved falsity, not
merely as to physiology and other
scientific matters, but also as to morals;
and it remains for farther inquiry how to
discriminate the trustworthy from the
untrustworthy within the limits of the
Bible itself.
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THE RELIGION OE THE LETTER RENOUNCED
been absurdly measured by other men’s
creed; but might I not have similarly
misjudged others, since I had from early
youth been under similar influences ?
How many of my seniors at Oxford I
had virtually despised because they were
not evangelical ! Had I had opportunity
of testing their spirituality ? or had I the
faculty of so doing ? Had I not really
condemned them as unspiritual, barely
because of their creed? On trying to
reproduce the past to my imagination, I
could not condemn myself quite as
sweepingly as I wished, but my heart
smote me on account of one. I had a
brother, with whose name all England
was resounding for praise or blame;
from his sympathies, through pure
hatred of Popery, I had long since
turned away. What was this but to
judge him by his creed ? True, his
whole theory was nothing but Romanism
transferred to England ; but what then ?
I had studied with the deepest interest
Mrs. Schimmelpenninck’s account of the
Port-Royalists, and, though I was aware
that she exhibits only the bright side of
her subject, yet the absolute excellences
of her nuns and priests showed that
Romanism, as such, was not fatal to
spirituality. They were persecuted ; this
did them good perhaps, or certainly
exhibited their brightness. So, too, my
brother surely was struggling after truth,
fighting for freedom to his own heart
and mind, against church articles and
stagnancy of thought. For this he
deserved both sympathy and love, but
I, alas ! had not known and seen his
excellence. But now God had taught
me more largeness by bitter sorrow
working the peaceable fruit of righteous
ness ; at last, then, I might admire my
brother. I therefore wrote to him a
letter of contrition. Some change,
either in his mind or in his view of my
position, had taken place, and I was
happy to find him once more able, not
only to feel fraternally, as he had always
done, but to act also fraternally. Never
theless, to this day it is to me a painfully
unsolved mystery how a mind can claim
its freedom in order to establish bond
age.
For the peculiarities of Romanism I
feel nothing, and I can pretend nothing,
but contempt, hatred, disgust, or horror.
But this system of falsehood, fraud,
unscrupulous and unrelenting ambition
will never be destroyed while Protestants
keep up their insane anathemas against
opinion. These are the outworks of the
Romish citadel; until they are razed to
the ground the citadel will defy attack.
If we are to blind our eyes in order to
accept an article of King Edward VI.
or an argument of St. Paul’s, why not
blind them so far as to accept the
Council of Trent ? If we are to
pronounce that a man “ without doubt
shall perish everlastingly ” unless he
believes the self-contradictions of the
pseudo-Athanasian Creed, why should we
shrink from a similar anathema on those
who reject the self-contradictions of Transubstantiation ? If one man is cast out
of God’s favour for eliciting error while
earnestly searching after truth, and
another remains in favour by passively
receiving the word of a Church, of a
Priest, or of an Apostle, then to search
for truth is dangerous ; apathy is safer;
then the soul does not come directly
into contact with God and learn of him,
but has to learn from, and unconvincedly
submit to, some external authority.
This is the germ of Romanism; its
legitimate development makes us Pagans
outright.
______
But in what position was I now towards
the Apostles? Could I admit their
inspiration when I no longer thought
them infallible? Undoubtedly. What
could be clearer, on every hypothesis,
than that they were inspired on and after
the day of Pentecost, and yet remained
ignorant and liable to mistake about the
relation of the Gentiles to the Jews ?
The moderns have introduced into the
idea of inspiration that of infallibility, to
which either omniscience or dictation is
essential. That there was no dictation
(said I) is proved by the variety of style
�THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
in the Scriptural writers ; that they were
not omniscient is manifest. In truth, if
human minds had not been left to them,
how could they have argued persuasively ?
Was not the superior success of their
preaching to that of Christ perhaps due
to their sharing in the prejudices of their
contemporaries ? An orator is most
persuasive when he is lifted above his
hearers on those points only on which he
is to reform their notions. The Apostles
were not omniscient—granted; but it
cannot hence be inferred that they did
not know the message given them by
God. Their knowledge, however perfect,
must yet in a human mind have co-existed
with ignorance ; and nothing (argued I)
but a perpetual miracle could prevent
ignorance from now and then exhibiting
itself in some error. But hence to infer
that they are not inspired, and are not
messengers from God, is quite gratuitous.
Who, indeed, imagines that John or Paul
understood astronomy so well as Sir
William Herschel ? Those who believe
that the Apostles might err in human
science need not the less revere their
moral and spiritual wisdom.
At the same time, it became a matter
of duty to me, if possible, to discriminate
the authoritative from the unauthoritative
in the Scripture, or at any rate avoid to
accept and propagate as true that which
is false, even if it be false only as science
and not as religion. I, unawares—more
perhaps from old habit than from distinct
conviction—started from the assumption
that my fixed point of knowledge was
to be found in the sensible or scientific,
not in the moral. I still retained from
my old Calvinistic doctrine a way *bf
proceeding, as if purely moral judgment
were my weak side, at least in criticising
the Scripture; so that I preferred never
to appeal to direct moral and spiritual
considerations, except in the most
glaringly necessary cases. Thus, while
I could not accept the panegyric on Jael,
and on Abraham’s intended sacrifice of
his son, I did not venture unceremoni
ously to censure the extirpation of the
Canaanites by Joshua, of which I barely
61
| said to myself that it “ certainly needed
very strong proof” of the divine com
mand to justify it. I still went so far in
timidity as to hesitate to reject on
internal evidence the account of heroes
or giants begotten by angels who, enticed
by the love of women, left heaven for
earth. The narrative in Gen. vi. had
long appeared to me undoubtedly to
bear this sense, and to have been so
understood by Jude and Peter (2 Pet.
ii.), as, I believe, it also was by the Jews
and early Fathers. I did at length set it
aside as incredible, not, however, from
moral repugnance to it (for I feared to
trust the soundness of my instinct), but
because I had slid into a new rule of
interpretation—that I must not obtrude
miracles on the Scripture narrative. The
writers tell their story without showing
any consciousness that it involves physio
logical difficulties. To invent a miracle
in order to defend this began to seem to
me unwarrantable.
It had become notorious to the public
that geologists rejected the idea of a
universal deluge as physically impossible.
Whence could the water come to cover
the highest mountains? Two replies
were attempted : 1. The flood of Noah
is not described as universal; 2. The
flood was, indeed, universal, but the
water was added and removed by miracle.
Neither reply, however, seemed to me
valid. First, the language respecting
the universality of the flood is as strong
as any that could be written ; moreover,
it is stated that the tops of the high hills
were all covered, and after the water
subsides the ark settles on the mountains
of Armenia. Now in Armenia, of neces
sity, numerous peaks would be seen,
unless the water covered them, and
especially Ararat. But a flood that
covered Ararat would overspread all the
continents, and leave only a few summits
above. If, then, the account in Genesis
is to be received, the flood was universal.
Secondly, the narrator represents the
surplus water to have come from the
clouds, and perhaps from the sea, and
again to drain back into the sea. Of a
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THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
miraculous creation and destruction of
water he evidently does not dream.
Other impossibilities came forward :
the insufficient dimensions of the ark to
take in all the creatures ; the unsuita
bility of the same climate to arctic and
tropical animals for a full year; the
impossibility of feeding them and avoiding
pestilence; and, especially, the total dis
agreement of the modern facts of the
dispersion of animals, with the idea that
they spread anew from Armenia as their
centre. We have no right to call in a
series of miracles to solve difficulties of
which the writer was unconscious. The
ark itself was expressly devised to
economise miracle by making a fresh
creation of animals needless.
Different in kind was the objection
which I felt to the story, which is told
twice concerning Abraham and once
concerning Isaac, of passing off a wife
as a sister. Allowing that such a thing
was barely not impossible, the improba
bility was so intense as to demand the
strictest and most cogent proof; yet
when we asked, Who testifies it ? no
proof appeared that it was Moses; or,
supposing it to be he, what his sources
of knowledge were. And this led to the
far wider remark that nowhere in the
book of Genesis is there a line to indi
cate who is the writer, or a sentence to
imply that the writer believes himself to
write by special information from God.
Indeed, it is well known that there are
numerous small phrases which denote a
later hand than that of Moses. The
kings of Israel are once alluded to his
torically—Gen. xxxvi. 31.
Why, then, was anything improbable
to be believed on the writer’s word—as,
for instance, the story of Babel and
the confusion of tongues ? One reply
only seemed possible—namely, that we
believe the Old Testament in obedience
to the authority of the New; and this
threw me again to consider the references
to the Old Testament in the Christian
Scriptures.
______
But here the difficulties soon became
manifestly more and more formidable.
In opening Matthew we meet with quota
tions from the Old Testament applied in
the most startling way. First is the
prophecy about the child Immanuel,
which in Isaiah no unbiassed interpreter
would have dreamed could apply to
Jesus. Next, the words of Hosea,
“ Out of Egypt have I called my son,”
which do but record the history cf
Israel, are imagined by Matthew to be
prophetic of the return of Jesus from
Egypt. This instance moved me much,
because I thought that, if the text were
“spiritualised,” so as to make Israel
mean Jesus, Egypt also ought to be
spiritualised and mean the world, not
retain its geographical sense, which
seemed to be carnal and absurd in
such a connection; for Egypt is no
more to Messiah than Syria or Greece.
One of the most decisive testimonies to
the Old Testament which the New
contains is in John x. 35, where I
hardly knew how to allow myself to
characterise the reasoning. The case
stands thus. The 82 nd Psalm rebukes
unjust governors, and at length says to
them: “I have said, Ye are gods, and
all of you are children of the Most
High; but ye shall die like men, and
fall like one of the princes.” In other
words : “ Though we are apt to think of
rulers as if they were superhuman, yet
they shall meet the lot of common men.”
Well, how is this applied in John?
Jesus has been accused of blasphemy
for saying that he and his Father are
one, and in reply he quotes the verse:
“ I have said, Ye are gods,” as his suffi
cient justification for calling himself Son
of God; for “ the Scripture cannot be
broken.” I dreaded to precipitate myself
into shocking unbelief if I followed out
the thoughts that this suggested, and (I
know not how) for a long time yet put
it off.
The quotations from the Old Testa
ment in St. Paul had always been a
mystery to me. The more I now
examined them, the clearer it appeared
that they were based on untenable
�THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
Rabbinical principles. Nor are those
in the Acts and in the Gospels any
better. If we take free leave to canvass
them, it may appear that not one quota
tion in ten is sensible and appropriate.
And shall we then accept the decision of
the New Testament writers as final, con
cerning the value and credibility of the
Old Testament, when it is so manifest
that they most imperfectly understood
that book ?
In fact, the appeal to them proved too
much. For Jude quotes the book of
Enoch as an inspired prophecy; and
yet, since Archbishop Laurence has
translated it from the Ethiopian, we
know that book to be a fable undeserv
ing of regard, and undoubtedly not
written by “Enoch, the seventh from
Adam.” Besides, it does not appear
that any peculiar divine revelation taught
them that the Old Testament is perfect
truth. In point of fact, they only repro
duce the ideas on that subject current in
their age. So far as Paul deviates from
the common Jewish view, it is in the
direction of disparaging the Law as essen
tially imperfect. May it not seem that
his remaining attachment to it was still
exaggerated by old sentiment and
patriotism ?
I farther found that not only do the
Evangelists give us no hint that they
thought themselves divinely inspired, or
that they had any other than human
sources of knowledge, but Luke most
explicitly shows the contrary. He opens
by stating to Theophilus that, since many
persons have committed to writing the
things handed down from eye-witnesses,
it seemed good to him also to do the
same, since he had “ accurately attended
to everything from its sources (avw^ev).”
He could not possibly have written thus
if he had been conscious of superhuman
aids. How absurd, then, of us to pretend
that we know more than Luke knew of
his own inspiration !
In truth, the arguments of theologians
to prove the inspiration (?>., infallibility)
of Matthew, Mark, and Luke are some
times almost ludicrous, My lamented
63
friend John Sterling has thus summed
up Dr. Henderson’s arguments about
Mark: “ Mark was probably inspired
because he was an acquaintance of Peter,
and because Dr. Henderson would be
reviled by other Dissenters if he doubted
it.”
About this time the great phenomenon
of these three gospels—the casting out
of devils—pressed forcibly on my atten
tion. I now dared to look full into the
facts, and saw that the disorders described
were perfectly similar to epilepsy, mania,
catalepsy, and other known maladies.
Nay, the deaf, the dumb, the hunch
backed, are spoken of as devil-ridden. I
farther knew that such diseases are still
ascribed to evil genii in Mussulman
countries; even a vicious horse is
believed by the Arabs to be majnun,
possessed by a jin or genie. Devils
also are cast out in Abyssinia to this
day. Having fallen in with Farmer’s
treatise on the Demoniacs, I carefully
studied it, and found it to prove un
answerably that a belief in demoniacal
possession is a superstition not more
respectable than that of witchcraft. But
Farmer did not at all convince me that
the three Evangelists do not share the
vulgar error. Indeed, the instant we
believe that the imagined possessions
were only various forms of disease, we
are forced to draw conclusions of the
utmost moment most damaging to the
credit of the narrators.1
Clearly they are then convicted of
misstating facts under the influence of
superstitious credulity. They represent
demoniacs as having a supernatural
acquaintance with Jesus, which, it now
becomes manifest, they cannot have had.
1 My Eclectic Reviewer says (p. 276) : “Thus,
because the evangelists held an erroneous
medical theory, Mr. Newman suffered a breach
to be made in the credit of the Bible.” No; but,
as the next sentence states, because they are “ con
victed of misstating facts,” under the influence
of this erroneous medical theory. Even this
reviewer—candid for an orthodox critic, and not
over-orthodox either—cannot help garbling me.
�64
THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
The devils cast out of two demoniacs (or
one) are said to have entered into a herd
of swine. This must have been a credu
lous fiction. Indeed, the casting out of
devils is so very prominent a part of the
miraculous agency ascribed to Jesus as
at first sight to impair our faith in his
miracles altogether.
I, however, took refuge in the con
sideration that when Jesus wrought one
great miracle popular credulity would
inevitably magnify it into ten ; hence the
discovery of foolish exaggerations is no
disproof of a real miraculous agency ;
nay, perhaps the contrary. Are they not
a sort of false halo round a disc of glory
—a halo so congenial to human nature
that the absence of it might be even
wielded as an objection? Moreover,
John tells of no demoniacs; does not
this show his freedom from popular
excitement? Observe the great miracles
narrated by John—the blind man, and
Lazarus—how different in kind from
those on demoniacs ! How incapable of
having been mistaken! How convinc
ing ! His statements cannot be explained
away. Their whole tone, moreover, is
peculiar. On the contrary, the first three
gospels contain much that (after we
see the writers to be credulous) must be
judged legendary.
The two first chapters of Matthew
abound in dreams. Dreams 1 Was,
indeed, the “ immaculate conception ”
merely told to Joseph in a dream ?—a
dream which not he only was to believe,
but we also, when reported to us by a
person wholly unknown, who wrote
seventy or eighty years after the fact,
and gives us no clue to his sources of
information! Shall I reply that he
received his information by miracle ?
But why more than Luke ? And Luke
evidently was conscious only of human
information. Besides, inspiration has
not saved Matthew from error about
demons; and why, then, about Joseph’s
dream and its highly important contents ?
In former days I had never dared to
let my thoughts dwell inquisitively on
the star which the wise men saw in the
East, and which accompanied them, and
pointed out the house where the young
child was. I now thought of it only to
see that it was a legend fit for credulous
ages, and that it must be rejected in
common with Herod’s massacre of the
children—an atrocity unknown to Jose
phus. How difficult it was to reconcile
the flight into Egypt with the narrative
of Luke I had known from early days; I
now saw that it was waste of time to try
to reconcile them.
But, perhaps, I might say : “ That the
writers should make errors about the
infancy of Jesus was natural; they were
distant from the time. But that will
not justly impair the credit of events to
which they may possibly have been
contemporaries, or even eye-witnesses.”
How, then, would this apply to the
Temptation, at which certainly none of
them were present ? Is it accident that
the same three who abound in the
demoniacs tell also the scene of the
Devil and Jesus on a pinnacle of the
temple, while the same John who omits
the demoniacs omits also this singular
story ? It being granted that the writers
are elsewhere mistaken, to criticise the
tale was to reject it.
In near connection with this followed
the discovery that many other miracles
of the Bible are wholly deficient in that
moral dignity which is supposed to place
so great a chasm between them and
ecclesiastical writings. Why should I
look with more respect on the napkins
taken from Paul’s body (Acts xix. 12)
than on pocket-handkerchiefs dipped in
the blood of martyrs ? How could I
believe, on this same writer’s hearsay,
that “ the Spirit of the Lord caught away
Philip” (viii. 39), transporting him
through the air, as oriental genii are
supposed to do ? Or what moral dignity
was there in the curse on the barren fig
tree, about which, moreover, we are so
perplexingly told that it was not the time
for figs ? What was to be said of a cure
wrought by touching the hem of Jesus’s
garment, which drew physical virtue from
him without his will ? And how could I
�THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
distinguish the genius of the miracle of
tribute-money in the fish’s mouth from
those of the apocryphal gospels ? What
was I to say of useless miracles like that
of Peter and Jesus walking on the water,
or that of many saints coming out of
the graves to show themselves, or of a
poetical sympathy of the elements, such
as the earthquake and rending of the
temple-veil when Jesus died ? Alto
gether I began to feel that Christian
advocates commit the flagrant sophism
of treating every objection as an isolated
“cavil,” and overrule each as obviously
insufficient with the same confidence as
I if it were the only one. Yet, in fact, the
objections collectively are very powerful,
i and cannot be set aside by supercilious
1 airs and by calling unbelievers “super
ficial,” any more than by harsh denun
ciations.
Pursuing the same thought to the Old
Testament, I discerned there also no
small sprinkling of grotesque or unmoral
miracles. A dead man is raised to life
> when his body by accident touches the
1 bones of Elisha; as though Elisha had
I been a Romish saint, and his bones a
sacred relic. Uzzah, when the ark is in
danger of falling, puts out his hand to
save it, and is struck dead for his impiety!
Was this the judgment of the Father of
mercies and God of all comfort ? What
was I to make of God’s anger with
. Abimelech (Gen. xx.), whose sole offence
was the having believed Abraham’s lie,
(■ for which a miraculous barrenness was
ti sent on all the females of Abimelech’s
I tribe, and was bought off only by splen
ic did presents to the favoured deceiver?
I Or was it at all credible that the lying
. and fraudulent Jacob should have been
I so specially loved by God more than the
r rude animal Esau ? Or could I any
i longer overlook the gross imagination of
I antiquity which made Abraham and
3 Jehovah dine on the same carnal food,
1 Like Tantalus with the gods; which fed
i Elijah by ravens, and set angels to bake
0 cakes for him ? Such is a specimen of
| the flood of difficulties which poured in
I through the great breach which the |
65
demoniacs had made in the credit of
Biblical marvels.
While I was in this stage of progress I
had a second time the advantage of
meeting Dr. Arnold, and had satisfaction
in finding that he rested the main strength
of Christianity on the Gospel of John.
The great similarity of the other three
seemed to him enough to mark that they
flowed from sources very similar, and
that the first Gospel had no pretensions
to be regarded as the actual writing of
Matthew. This, indeed, had been for
some time clear to me, though I now
cared little about the author’s name
when he was proved to be credulous.
Arnold regarded John’s gospel as
abounding with smaller touches which
marked the eye-witness, and, altogether, to
be the vivid and simple picture of a divine
reality, undeformed by credulous legend.
In this view I was gratified to repose, in
spite of a few partial misgivings, and
returned to investigations concerning the
Old Testament.
For some time back I had paid special
attention to the book of Genesis, and I
had got aid in the analysis of it from a
German volume. That it was based on
at least two different documents, techni
cally called the Elohistic and Jehovistic,
soon became clear to me; and an ortho
dox friend who acknowledged the fact
regarded it as a high recommendation of
the book that it was conscientiously made
out of pre-existing materials, and was not
a fancy that came from the brain of
Moses. My good friend’s argument was
not a happy one; no written record
could exist of things and times which
preceded the invention of writing. After
analysing this book with great minute
ness, I now proceeded to Exodus and
Numbers, and was soon assured that
these had not, any more than Genesis,
come forth from one primitive witness of
the facts. In all these books is found
the striking phenomenon of duplicate or
even triplicate narratives. The creation
of man is three times told. The account
of the Flood is made up out of two
discrepant originals, marked by the
D
�66
THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
names Elohim and Jehovah, of which
one makes Noah take into the ark seven
pairs of clean, and single (or double?)
pairs of unclean, beasts ; while the other
gives him two and two of all kinds, with
out distinguishing the clean. The two
documents may indeed in this narrative
be almost re-discovered by mechanical
separation. The triple statement of
Abraham and Isaac passing off a wife
for a sister was next in interest; and
here also the two which concern Abraham
are contrasted as Jehovistic and Elohistic.
A similar- double account is given of the
origin of circumcision, of the names
Isaac, Israel, Bethel, Beersheba. Still
more was I struck by the positive
declaration in Exodus (vi. 3) that God
was not known to Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob by the name Jehovah; while the
book of Genesis abounds with the con
trary fact. This alone convinced me
beyond all dispute that these books did
not come from one and the same hand,
but are conglomerates formed out of
older materials, unartistically and mechani
cally joined.
Indeed, a fuller examination showed
in Exodus and Numbers a twofold
miracle of the quails, of which the latter
is so told as to indicate entire unac
quaintance with the former. There is a
double description of the manna, a need
less second appointment of elders of the
congregation ; water is twice brought out
of the rock by the rod of Moses, whose
faith is perfect the first time and fails the
second time. The name of Meribah is
twice bestowed.
There is a double
promise of a guardian angel, a double
consecration of Aaron and his sons;
indeed, I seemed to find a double or
even threefold1 copy of the Decalogue.
Comprising Deuteronomy within my
view, I met two utterly incompatible
accounts of Aaron’s death; for Deutero
nomy makes him die bejore reaching
Meribah Kadesh, where, according to
Numbers, he sinned and incurred the
1 I have explained
Monarchy.
this
in
my Hebrew
penalty of death (Num. xx. 24, Deut. x.
6; cf. Num. xxxiii. 31, 38).
That there was error on a great scale
in all this was undeniable ; and I began
to see at least one source of the error.
The celebrated miracle of “ the sun
standing still ” has long been felt as too
violent a derangement of the whole
globe to be used by the Most High as a
means of discomfiting an army ; and I
had acquiesced in the idea that the
miracle was ocular only. But in reading
the passage (Josh. x. 12-14) I f°r the
first time observed that the narrative
rests on the authority of a poetical book
which bears the name of Jasher.1 He
who composed—“ Sun, stand thou still
upon Gibeon; and thou, Moon, in the
valley of Ajalon 1” — like other poets
called on the sun and moon to stand
and look on Joshua’s deeds; but he
could not anticipate that his words would
be hardened into fact by a prosaic inter
preter, and appealed to in proof of a stupen
dous miracle. The commentator could
not tell what the moon had to do with it,
yet he has quoted honestly. This pre
sently led me to observe other marks
that the narrative has been made up, at
least in part, out of old poetry. Of these
the most important are in Exodus xv.
and Num. xxi., in the latter of which
three different poetical fragments are
quoted, and one of them is expressly
said to be from “the book of the wars
of Jehovah,” apparently a poem descrip
tive of the conquest of Canaan by the
Israelites. As for Exodus xv., it appeared
to me (in that stage, and after so abun
dant proof of error) almost certain that
Moses’s song is the primitive authority
out of which the prose narrative of the
passage of the Red Sea has been worked
up. Especially since, after the song, the
writer adds, v. 19: “For the horse of
Pharaoh went in with his chariots and
with his horsemen into the sea, and the
1 This poet celebrated also the deeds of David
(2 Sam. i. 18), according to our translation. If so,
he was many centuries later than Joshua. How
ever, the sense of the Hebrew is a little obscure.
�THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
Lord brought again the waters of the sea
upon them: but the children of Israel
went on dry land in the midst of the sea.”
This comment scarcely could have been
added, if the detailed account of ch. xiv.
had been written previously. The song
of Moses implies no miracle at all; it is
merely high poetry. A later prosaic age
took the hyperbolic phrases of v. 8
literally, and so generated the comment
of v. 19, and a still later time expan
ded this into the elaborate fourteenth
chapter.
Other proofs crowded upon me that
cannot here be enlarged upon. . Grant
ing, then (for argument), that the first
four books of the Pentateuch are a
compilation, made long after the event,
I tried for a while to support the very
arbitrary opinion that Deuteronomy (all
but its last chapter), which seemed to be
a more homogeneous composition, was
alone and really the production of Moses.
This, however, needed some definite
proof; for, if tradition was not sufficient
to guarantee the whole Pentateuch, it
could not guarantee to me Deuteronomy
alone. I proceeded to investigate the
external history of the Pentateuch, and
in so doing came to the story how the
Book of the Law was found in the reign of
the young king Josiah, nearly at the end
of the Jewish monarchy. As I considered
the narrative, my eyes were opened. If
the book had previously been the received
sacred law, it could not possibly have been
so lost that its contents were unknown
and the fact of its loss forgotten. It was
therefore evidently then first compiled, or
at least then first produced and made
authoritative to the nation.1 And with
this the general course of the history best
agrees, and all the phenomena of the
books themselves.
Many of the Scriptural facts were old
to me ; to the importance of the history
of Josiah I had perhaps even become
dim-sighted by familiarity. Why had I
not long ago seen that my conclusions
67
ought to have been different from those
of prevalent orthodoxy ? I found that I
had been cajoled by the primitive
assumptions which, though not clearly
stated, are unceremoniously used. Dean
Graves, for instance, always takes for
granted that, until the contrary shall be
demonstrated, it is to be firmly believed
that the Pentateuch is from the pen of
Moses. He proceeds to set aside one by
one, as not demonstrative, the indications
that it is of later origin, and, when other
means fail, he says that the particular
verses remarked on were added by a later
hand ! I considered that if we were
debating the antiquity of an Irish book,
and in one page of it were found an
allusion to the Parliamentary Union with
England, we should at once regard the
whole book, until the contrary should be
proved, as the work of this century ; and
not endure the reasoner who, in order
to uphold a theory that it is five centuries
old, pronounced that sentence “ evidently
to be from a later hand.” Yet in this
arbitrary way Dean Graves and all his
coadjutors set aside, one by one, the
texts which point at the date of the
Pentateuch. I was possessed with indig
nation. Oh, sham science ! Oh, falsenamed theology !
O mihi tam longm maneat pars ultima vitre,
Spiritus et, quantum sat erit tua diccre facta !
Yet I waited some eight years longer,
lest I should on so grave a subject write
anything premature. Especially I felt
that it was necessary to learn more of
what the erudition of Germany had done
on these subjects. Michaelis On the New
Testament had fallen into my hands
several years before, and I had found
the greatest advantage from his learning
and candour. About this time I also
had begun to get more or less aid from
four or five living German divines, but
none produced any strong impression on
me but De Wette. The two grand
lessons which I learned from him were
the greater recency of Deuteronomy and
the very untrustworthy character of the
1 I have fully discussed this in my Hebrew Book of Chronicles, with which discovery
Monarchy.
the true origin of the Pentateuch becomes
�68
THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
still clearer.1
After this I heard of
Hengstenberg as the most learned writer
on the opposite side, and furnished
myself with his work in defence of the
antiquity of the Pentateuch ; but it only
showed me how hopeless a cause he had
undertaken.
In this period I came to a totally new
view of many parts of the Bible, and, not
to be tedious, it will suffice here to sum
up the results.
The first books which I looked at as
doubtful were the Apocalypse and the
Epistle to the Hebrews.
From the
Greek style I felt assured that the former
was not by John,1 nor the latter by Paul.
2
In Michaelis I first learnt the interesting
fact of Luther having vehemently repu
diated the Apocalypse, so that he not
only declared its spuriousness in the
preface of his Bible, but solemnly
charged his successors not to print his
translation of the Apocalypse without
annexing this avowal—a charge which
they presently disobeyed. Such is the
habitual unfairness of ecclesiastical cor
porations. I was afterwards confirmed
by Neander in the belief that the Apoca
lypse is a false prophecy. The only
chapter of it which is interpreted, the
seventeenth, appears to be a political
speculation suggested by the civil war of
Otho, Vitellius, and Vespasian, and
erroneously opines that the eighth emperor
of Rome is to be the last, and is to be
one of the preceding emperors restored
-—probably Nero, who was believed to
have escaped to the kings of the East.
As for the Epistle to the Hebrews (which
I was disposed to believe Luther had well
guessed to be the production of Apollos),
I now saw quite a different genius in it
1 The English reader may consult Theodore
Parker’s translation of De Wette’s Introduction
to the Canon of Scripture. I have also amply
exhibited the vanity of the Chronicles in my
Hebrew Monarchy. De Wette has a separate
treatise on the Chronicles.
2 If the date of the Apocalypse is twenty years
earlier than that of the fourth Gospel, I now feel
no such difficulty in their being the composition
of the same writer.
from that of Paul, as more artificial and
savouring of rhetorical culture. As to
this, the learned Germans are probably
unanimous.
Next to these the Song of Solomon
fell away. I had been accustomed to
receive this as a sacred representation of
the loves of Christ and the Church; but,
after I_ was experimentally acquainted
with the playful and extravagant genius of
man’s love for woman, I saw the Song of
Solomon with new eyes, and became
entirely convinced that it consists of
fragments of love-songs, some of them
rather voluptuous.
After this, it followed that the so-called
Canon of the Jews could not guarantee
to us the value of the writings. Conse
quently, such books as Ruth and Esther
(the latter, indeed, not containing one
religious sentiment) stood forth at once
in their natural insignificance. Eccle
siastes also seemed to me a meagre and
shallow production. Chronicles I now
learned to be not credulous only, but
unfair, perhaps so far as to be actually
dishonest. Not one of the historical
books of the Old Testament could
approve itself to me as of any high
antiquity or of any spiritual authority,
and in the New Testament I found the
first three books and the Acts to contain
many doubtful and some untrue accounts,
and many incredible miracles.
Many persons, after reading thus much
concerning me, will be apt to say : “Of
course then you gave up Christianity ? ”
Far from it. I gave up all that was
clearly untenable, and clung the firmer
to all that still appeared sound. I had
found out that the Bible was not to be
my religion, nor its perfection any tenet
of mine ; but what then ? Did Paul go
about preaching the Bible ?—nay, but he
preached Christ. The New Testament
did not as yet exist. To the Jews he
necessarily argued from the Old Testa
ment ; but that “faith in the Book ” was
no part of Paul’s Gospel is manifest from
his giving no list of sacred books to his
Gentile converts. Twice, indeed, in his
Epistles to Timothy, he recommends the
�THE RELIGION OF THE LETTER RENOUNCED
Scriptures of the Old Testament, but
even in the more striking passage (on
which such exaggerated stress has been
laid) the spirit of his remark is essentially
apologetic. “Despise not, O Timothy”
(is virtually his exhortation), “ the Scrip
tures that you learned as a child.
Although now you have the Spirit to
teach you, yet that does not make the
older writers useless, for every divinely
inspired writing is also profitable for
instruction,” etc.
In Paul’s religion
respect for the Scriptures was a means,
not an end. The Bible was made for
man, not man for the Bible.
Thus the question with me was : “May
I still receive Christ as a Saviour from
sin, a Teacher and Lord sent from
heaven, and can I find an adequate
account of what he came to do or
teach ? ” And my reply was, Yes. The
Gospel of John alone gave an adequate
account of him; the other three, though
often erroneous, had clear marks of
simplicity, and in so far confirmed the
general belief in the supernatural char
acter and works of Jesus. Then the
conversion of Paul was a powerful
argument. I had Peter’s testimony to
the resurrection and to the transfigura
tion.
Many of the prophecies were
eminently remarkable, and seemed
unaccountable except as miraculous.
The origin of Judaism and spread of
Christianity appeared to be beyond
common experience, and were perhaps
fairly to be called supernatural. Broad
views such as these did not seem to be
affected by the special conclusions at
which I had arrived concerning the books
of the Bible. I conceived myself to be
resting under an Indian figtree, which
is supported by certain grand stems, but
also lets down to the earth many small
branches, which seem to the eye to prop
the tree, but in fact are supported by it.
If they were cut away, the tree would not
be less strong. So neither was the tree
of Christianity weakened by the loss of
its apparent props. I might still enjoy
its shade, and eat of its fruits, and bless
the hand that planted it.
69
In the course of this period I likewise
learnt how inadequate allowance I had
once made for the repulsion produced
by my own dogmatic tendency on the
sympathies of the unevangelical. I now
often met persons of Evangelical opinion,
but could seldom have any interchange
of religious sentiment with them, because
every word they uttered warned me that
I could escape controversy only while I
kept them at a distance ; moreover, if
any little difference of opinion led us
into amicable argument, they uniformly
reasoned by quoting texts. This was
now inadmissible with me, but I could
only have done mischief by going farther
than a dry disclaimer, after which,
indeed, I saw I was generally looked on
as “an infidel.” No doubt the parties
who so came into collision with me
approached me often with an earnest
desire and hope to find some spiritual
good in me, but withdrew disappointed,
finding me either cold and defensive, or
(perhaps they thought) warm and dispu
tatious. Thus, as long as artificial tests
of spirituality are allowed to exist, their
erroneousness is not easily exposed by
the mere wear and tear of life. When
the collision of opinion is very strong
two good men may meet, and only be
confirmed in their prejudices against one
another; for, in order that one may
elicit the spiritual sympathies of the
other, a certain liberality is prerequisite.
Without this each prepares to shield
himself from attack, or even holds out
weapons of offence. Thus “articles of
Communion” are essentially articles of
disunion. On the other hand, if all
tests of opinion in a church were heartily
and truly done away, then the principles
of spiritual affinity and repulsion would
act quite undisturbed. Surely, therefore,
this was the only right method? Never
theless, I saw the necessity of one test,
“Jesus is the Son of God,” and felt
unpleasantly that one article tends
infallibly to draw another after it. But
I had too much just then to think of in
other quarters to care much about
Church systems.
�yo
FAITH A T SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
Chapter V.
FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
I reckon my Fifth Period to begin from
the time when I had totally abandoned
the claims of “the Canon ” of Scripture,
however curtailed, to be received as the
object of faith, as free from error, or as
something raised above moral criticism;
and looked out for some deeper founda
tion for my creed than any sacred letter.
But an entirely new inquiry had begun
to engage me at intervals—viz., the
essential logic of these investigations.
Ought we in any case to receive moral
truth in obedience to an apparent miracle
of sense ? Or, conversely, ought we ever
to believe in sensible miracles because
of their recommending some moral
truth? I perceived that the endless
jangling which goes on in detailed
controversy is inevitable while the
disputants are unawares at variance
with one another, or themselves wavering,
as to these pervading principles of
evidence. I regard my Fifth Period to
come to an end with the decision of this
question. Nevertheless, many other
important lines of inquiry were going
forward simultaneously.
I found in the Bible itself—and even
in the very same book, as in the Gospel
of John—great uncertainty and incon
sistency on this question. In one place
Jesus reproves1 the demand of a miracle,
and blesses those who believe without1
23
miracles; in another, he requires that
they will submit to his doctrine becauses
of his miracles. Now, this is intelligible
if blind external obedience is the end of
religion, and not truth and inward
righteousness.
An ambitious and
unscrupulous Church that desires, by
fair means or foul, to make men bow
down to her may say, “ Only believe,
and all is right. The end being gained
-—obedience to us—we do not care
about your reasons.” But God cannot
speak thus to man, and to a divine
teacher we should peculiarly look for aid
in getting clear views of the grounds of
faith, because it is by a knowledge of
these that we shall both be rooted on
the true basis and saved from the danger
of false beliefs.
It, therefore, peculiarly vexed me to
find so total a deficiency of clear and
sound instruction in the New Testament,
and eminently in the Gospel of John, on
so vital a question. The more I con
sidered it, the more it appeared as if
Jesus were solely anxious to have people
believe in him, without caring on what
grounds they believed, although that is
obviously the main point. When to this
was added the threat of “damnation”
on those who did not believe, the case
became far worse, for I felt that, if such
a threat were allowed to operate, I might
become a Mohammedan or a Roman
Catholic. Could I in any case rationally
assign this as a ground for believing in
Christ—“because I am frightened by
his threats ” ?
Farther thought showed me that a
question of logic, such as I here had
before me, was peculiarly one on which
the propagator of a new religion could
not be allowed to dictate, for, if so, every
false system could establish itself. Let
Hindooism dictate our logic, let us
submit to its tests of a divine revelation
and its mode of applying them, and we
1 Matt. xii. 39, xvi. 4.
may, perhaps, at once find ourselves
2 John xx. 29.
3 John xiv. 11. In x. 37, 38, the same idea necessitated to “ become little children ”
seems to be intended. So xv. 24.
in a Brahminical school. Might not,
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
then, this very thing account for the
Bible not enlightening us on the topic—
namely, since logic, like mathematics,
belongs to the common intellect ?
Possibly so ; but still it cannot recon
cile us to vacillations and contradictions
in the Bible on so critical a point.
Gradually I saw that deeper and
deeper difficulties lay at bottom. If
logic cannot be matter of authoritative
revelation so long as the nature of the
human mind is what it is—if it appears,
as a fact, that in the writings and
speeches of the New Testament the
logic is far from lucid—if we are to
compare logic with mathematics and
other sciences which grew up with
civilisation and long time, we cannot
doubt that the Apostles imbibed the
logic, like the astronomy, of their own
day, with all its defects. Indeed, the
same is otherwise plain. Paul’s reason
ings are those of a Gamaliel, and often
are indefensible by our logical notions.
John, also (as I had been recently
learning), has a wonderful similarity to
Philo. This being the case, it becomes
of deep interest to us to know, if we are
to accept results at second hand from
Paul and John, what was the sort of
evidence which convinced them ? The
moment this question is put we see the
essential defect to which we are exposed
in not being able to cross-examine them.
Paul says that “ Christ appeared to him ” ;
elsewhere, that he has “ received of the
Lord ” certain facts concerning the Holy
Supper, and that his Gospel was “ given
to him by revelation.” If any modern
made such statements to us, and on this
ground demanded our credence, it would
be allowable, and indeed obligatory, to
ask many questions of him. What does
he mean by saying that he has had a
“ revelation ” ? Did he see a sight, or
hear a sound, or was it an inward im
pression ? And how does he distinguish
it as divine P1 Until these questions are
fully answered we have no materials at
71
all before us for deciding to accept his
results ; to believe him merely because
he is earnest and persuaded would be
judged to indicate the weakness of
inexperience. How, then, can it be
pretended that we have, or can possibly
get, the means of assuring ourselves
that the Apostles held correct principles
of evidence and applied them justly,
when we are not able to interrogate
them ?
Farther, it appears that our experience
of delusion forces us to enact a very
severe test of supernatural revelation.
No doubt we can conceive that which is
equivalent to a new sense opening to us;
but then it must have verifications
connecting it with the other senses.
Thus, a particularly vivid sort of dream,
recurring with special marks and com
municating at once heavenly and earthly
knowledge, of which the latter was
otherwise verified, would probably be
admitted as a valid sort of evidence ;
but so intense would be the interest and
duty to have all unravelled and probed
to the bottom that we should think it
impossible to verify the new sense too
anxiously, and we should demand the
fullest particulars of the divine trans
action. On the contrary, it is undeniable
that all such severity of research is
rebuked in the Scriptures as unbelief.
The deeply interesting process of receiving
supernatural revelation—a revelation, not
of moral principles, but of outward facts
and events supposed to be communicated
in a mode wholly peculiar and unknown
to common men: this process, which
ought to be laid open and analysed
under the fullest light, if we are to believe
the results at second hand, is always and
avowedly shrouded in impenetrable
darkness. There surely is something
here which denotes that it is dangerous
to resign ourselves to the conclusions of
revelation. It merely says that some answer is
needed to these questions, and none is given.
We can make out (in my opinion) that dreams
and inward impressions were the form of
1 A reviewer erroneously treats this as suggestion trusted to, but we do not learn what
inculcating a denial of the possibility of inward | precautions were used against foolish credulity.
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FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
the Apostles, when their logical notions
are so different from ours.
I farther inquired what sort of miracle
I could conceive that would alter my
opinion on a moral question. Hosea
was divinely ordered to go and unite
himself to an impure woman; could I
possibly think that God ordered me to
do so if I heard a voice in the air com
manding it? Should I not rather dis
believe my hearing than disown my
moral perceptions ? If not, where am I
to stop ? I may practise all sorts of
heathenism. A man who, in obedience
to a voice in the air, kills his innocent
wife or child will either be called mad,
and shut up for safety, or will be hanged
as a desperate fanatic. Do I dare to
condemn this modern judgment of him ?
Would any conceivable miracle justify
my slaying my wife ? God forbid ! It
must be morally right to believe moral
rather than sensible perceptions. No
outward impressions on the eye or ear
can be so valid an assurance to me of
God’s will as my inward judgment. How
amazing, then, that a Paul or a James
could look on Abraham’s intention to
slay his son as indicating a praiseworthy
faith ! And yet not amazing. It does
but show that Apostles in former days,
like ourselves, scrutinised antiquity with
different eyes from modern events. If
Paul had been ordered by a super
natural voice to slay Peter, he would
have attributed the voice to the devil,
“ the prince of the power of the air,”
and would have despised it. He praises
the faith of Abraham, but he certainly
would never have imitated his conduct.
Just so the modern divines who laud
Joseph’s piety towards Mary would be
very differently affected if events and
persons were transported to the present
day.
But to return. Let it be granted that
no sensible miracle would authorise me
so to violate my moral perceptions as to
slay (that is, to murder) my innocent
wife. May it, nevertheless, authorise me
to invade a neighbour country, slaughter
the people and possess their cities,
although without such a miracle the
deed would be deeply criminal? It is
impossible to say that here, more than
in the former case, miracles1 can turn
aside the common laws of morality.
Neither, therefore, could they justify
Joshua’s war of extermination on the
Canaanites, nor that of Samuel on the
Amalekites, nor the murder of mis
believers by Elijah and by Josiah. If
we are shocked at the idea of God
releasing Mohammed from the vulgar
law of marriage, we must as little endure
relaxation in the great laws of justice
and mercy. Farther, if only a small
immorality is concerned, shall we then
say that a miracle may justify it? Could
it authorise me to plait a whip of small
cords and flog a preferment-hunter out
of the pulpit, or would it justify me in
publicly calling the Queen and her
ministers “abrood of vipers, who cannot
escape the damnation of hell”?2 Such
questions go very deep into the heart of
the Christian claims.
I had been accustomed to overbear
objections of this sort by replying that
to allow of their being heard would
amount to refusing leave to God to give
commands to his creatures. For, it
seems, if he did command, we, instead
of obeying, should discuss whether the
command was right and reasonable, and
if we thought it otherwise, should con
clude that God never gave it. The
extirpation of the Canaanites is com
pared by divines to the execution of a
criminal, and it is insisted that, if the
voice of society may justify the execu
tioner, much more may the voice of
God. But I now saw the analogy to be
1 If miracles were vouchsafed on the scale of
a new sense, it is, of course, conceivable that
they would reveal new masses of fact, tending to
modify our moral judgments of particular actions ;
but nothing of this can be made out in Judaism
or Christianity.
2 A friendly reviewer derides this passage as a
very feeble objection to the doctrine of the
absolute moral perfections of Jesus. It is here
rather feebly stated, because at that period I had
not fully worked out the thought. He seems to
have forgotten that I am narrating.
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
insufficient and unsound. Insufficient,
because no executioner is justified in
slaying those whom his conscience tells
him to be innocent; and it is a barbarous
morality alone which pretends that he
may make himself a passive tool of
slaughter. But next the analogy assumes
(what none of my very dictatorial and
insolent critics make even the faintest
effort to prove to be a fact) that God,
like man, speaks from without; that
what we call reason and conscience is
not his mode of commanding and reveal
ing his will, but that words to strike the
ear, or symbols displayed before the
senses, are emphatically and exclusively
“ revelation.” Besides all this, the com
mand of slaughter to the Jews is not
directed against the seven nations of
Canaan only, as modern theologians
often erroneously assert; it is a universal
permission of avaricious massacre and
subjugation of “the cities which are very
far off from thee, which are not of the
cities of these nations ” (Deut. xx. 15).
The thoughts which here fill but a few
pages occupied me a long while in
working out, because I consciously, with
caution more than with timidity, declined
to follow them rapidly. They came as
dark suspicions or as flashing possi
bilities, and were again laid aside for
reconsideration, lest I should be carried
into antagonism to my old creed. For
it is clear that great error arises in
religion by the undue ardour of converts,
who become bitter against the faith
which they have left, and outrun in zeal
their new associates. So also successive
centuries oscillate too far on the right
and on the left of truth. But so happy
was my position that I needed not to
hurry; no practical duty forced me to
rapid decision, and a suspense of judg
ment was not an unwholesome exercise.
Meanwhile I sometimes thought Chris
tianity to be to me like the great River
Ganges to a Hindoo. Of its value he
has daily experience; he has piously
believed that its sources are in heaven;
but of late the report has come to
him that it only flows from very high
73
mountains of this earth. What is he to
believe ? He knows not exactly; he
cares not much. In any case, the river
is the gift of God to him; its positive
benefits cannot be affected by a theory
concerning its source.
Such a comparison undoubtedly im
plies that he who uses it discerns for
himself a moral excellence in Chris
tianity, and submits to it only so far as
this discernment commands. I had prac
tically reached this point long before I
concluded my theoretical inquiries as to
Christianity itself; but in the course of
this Fifth Period numerous other over
powering considerations crowded upon
me, which I must proceed to state in
outline.
All pious Christians feel, and all the
New Testament proclaims, that faith is a
moral act and a test of the moral and
spiritual that is within us, so that he who
is without faith (faithless, unfaithful,
“infidel ”) is morally wanting, and is cut
off from God. To assent to a religious
proposition solely in obedience to an
outward miracle would be belief, but
would not be faith, any more than is
scientific conviction. Bishop Butler and
all his followers can insist with much
force on this topic when it suits them,
and can quote most aptly from the New
Testament to the same effect. They
deduce that a really overpowering
miraculous proof would have destroyed
the moral character of faith, yet they do
not see that the argument supersedes the
authoritative force of outward miracles
entirely. It had always appeared to me
very strange in these divines to insist on
the stupendous character and convincing
power of the Christian miracles, and
then, in reply to the objection that they
were not quite convincing, to say that
the defect was purposely left “ to try
people’s faith.” Faith in what? Not,
surely, in the confessedly ill-proved
miracle, but in the truth as discernible
by the heart without aid of miracle.
I conceived of two men, Nathaniel
and Demas, encountering a pretender to
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FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
miracles, a Simon Magus of the Scrip
tures. Nathaniel is guileless, sweethearted, and of strong moral sense, but
in worldly matters rather a simpleton.
Demas is a sharp man, who gets on well
in the world, quick of eye and shrewd of
wit, hard-headed, and not to be imposed
upon by his fellows, but destitute of any
high religious aspirations or deep moral
insight. The juggleries of Simon are
readily discerned by Demas, but
thoroughly deceive poor Nathaniel;
what, then, is the latter to do ? To say
that we are to receive true miracles and
reject false ones avails not, unless the
mind is presumed to be capable of dis
criminating the one from the other.
The wonders of Simon are as divine as
the wonders of Jesus to a man who, like
Nathaniel, can account for neither by
natural causes. If we enact the rule
that men are to “ submit their under
standings ” to apparent prodigies, and
that “revelation” is a thing of the
outward senses, we alight on the un
endurable absurdity that Demas has
faculties better fitted than those of
Nathaniel for discriminating religious
truth and error, and that Nathaniel, in
obedience to eye and ear, which he
knows to be very deceivable organs, is to
abandon his moral perceptions.
Nor is the case altered if, instead of
Simon in person, a huge thing called a
Church is presented as a claimant of
authority to Nathaniel. Suppose him to
be a poor Spaniard, surrounded by false
miracles, false erudition, and all the
apparatus of reigning and unopposed
Romanism. He cannot cope with the
priests in cleverness, detect their
juggleries, refute their historical false
hoods, disentangle their web of sophistry;
but, if he is true-hearted, he' may say :
“ You bid me not to keep faith with
heretics; you defend murder, exile,
imprisonment, fines, on men who will
not submit their consciences to your
authority. This I see to be wicked,
though you ever so much pretend that
God has taught it you.” So, also, if he
be accosted by learned clergymen who
undertake to prove that Jesus wrought
stupendous miracles, or by learned
Moolahs who - allege the same of
Mohammed or of Menu ; he is quite
unable to deal with them on the grounds
of physiology, physics, or history. In
short, nothing can be plainer than that
the moral and spiritual sense is the only
religious faculty of the poor man, and that,
as Christianity in its origin was preached
to the poor, so it was to the inward
senses that its first preachers appealed,
as the supreme arbiters in the whole
religious question. Is it not, then,
absurd to say that’ in the act of conver
sion the convert is to trust his moral
perception, and is ever afterwards to dis
trust it?
An incident had some years before
come to my knowledge which now
seemed instructive. An educated, highly
acute, and thoughtful person of very
mature age had become a convert to
the Irving miracles, from an inability to
distinguish them from those of the
Pauline Epistles, or to discern anything
of falsity which would justify his rejecting
them. But after several years he totally
renounced them as a miserable delusion,
because he found that a system of false
doctrine was growing up and was propped
by them. Here was a clear case of a
man with all the advantages of modern
education and science, who yet found
the direct judgment of a professed
miracle, that was acted before his senses,
too arduous for him ! He was led astray
while he trusted his power to judge of
miracle ; he was brought right by trusting
to his moral perceptions.
When we further consider that a
knowledge of natural philosophy and
physiology not only does not belong to
the poor, but comes later in time to
mankind than a knowledge of morals ;
that a miracle can only be judged of by
philosophy; that it is not easy even for
philosophers to define what is a
“miracle”; that to discern “a deviation
from the course of nature ” implies a
previous certain knowledge of what the
course of nature is, and that illiterate
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
and early ages certainly have not this
knowledge, and often have hardly even
the idea, it becomes quite a mon
strosity to imagine that sensible and
external miracles constitute the necessary
process and guarantee of divine revela
tion.
Besides, if an angel appeared to my
senses and wrought miracles, how would
that assure me of his moral qualities ?
Such miracles might prove his power
and his knowledge, but whether malig
nant or benign would remain doubtful
until, by purely moral evidence which
no miracles could give, the doubt should
be solved.1 This is the old difficulty
about diabolical wonders. The moderns
cut the knot by denying that any but
God can possibly work real miracles.
But to establish their principle they make
their definition and verification of a.
miracle so strict as would have amazed
the Apostles ; and, after all, the difficulty
recurs that miraculous phenomena will
never prove the goodness and veracity
of God if we do not know these qualities
in him without miracle. There is, then,
a deeper and an earlier revelation of God,
which sensible miracles can never give.
We cannot distinctly learn what was
Paul’s full idea of a divine revelation;
but I can feel no doubt that he conceived
it to be, in great measure, an inward
thing. Dreams and visions were not
excluded from influence, and more or
less affected his moral judgment; but he
did not, consciously and on principle,
beat down his conscience in submission
to outward impressions. To do so is,
indeed, to destroy the moral character of
faith, and lay the axe to the root not of
Christian doctrine only, but of every
possible spiritual system.
1 An ingenious gentleman, well versed in
history, has put forth a volume called The
Restoration of Faith, in which he teaches that I
have no right to a conscience or to a God until I
adopt his historical conclusions. I leave his
co-religionists to confute his portentous heresy ;
but, in fact, it is already done more than enough
in a splendid article of the Westminster Review,
July, 1852.
75
Meanwhile new breaches were made
in those citadels of my creed which had
not yet surrendered.
One branch of the Christian evidences
concerns itself with the history and his
torical effects of the faith, and among
Protestants the efficacy of the Bible to
enlighten and convert has been very
much pressed. The disputant, how
ever, is apt to play “ fast and loose.”
He adduces the theory of Christianity
when the history is unfavourable, and
appeals to the history if the theory is
impugned. In this way just so much is
picked out of the mass of facts as suits his
argument, and the rest is quietly put aside.
I. In the theory of my early creed
(which was that of the New Testament,
however convenient it may be for my
critics to deride it as fanatical and not
Christian) cultivation of mind and erudi
tion were classed with worldly things,
which might be used where they pre
existed (as riches and power may sub
serve higher ends), but which were
quite extraneous and unessential to the
spiritual kingdom of Christ. A know
ledge of the Bible was assumed to need
only an honest heart and God’s Spirit,
while science, history, and philosophy
were regarded as doubtful and dangerous
auxiliaries. But soon after the first reflux
of my mind took place towards the com
mon understanding, as a guide of life
legitimately co-ordinate with Scripture, I
was impressed with the consideration
that free learning had acted on a great
scale for the improvement of spiritual
religion. I had been accustomed to
believe that the Bible'1 brought about
the Protestant Reformation; and until
my twenty-ninth year probably it had not
occurred to me to question this. But I
1 I seem to have been understood now to say
that a knowledge of the Bible was not a pre
requisite of the Protestant Reformation. What
I say is that at this period I learned the study of
the classics to have caused and determined that
it should then take place ; moreover, I say that
a free study of other books than sacred ones is
essential, and always was, to conquer super
stition,
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FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
was first struck with the thought that the
Bible did not prevent the absurd iniqui
ties of the Nicene and post-Nicene con
troversy, and that the Church, with the
Bible in her hands, sank down into the
gulf of Popery, How, then, was the
Bible a sufficient explanation of her
recovering out of Popery ?
Even a superficial survey of the history
shows that the first improvement of
spiritual doctrine. in the tenth and
eleventh centuries came from a study of
the moral works of Cicero and Boethius,
a fact notorious in the common his
torians. The Latin moralists effected
what, strange to think, the New Testa
ment alone could not do.
In the fifteenth century, when Con
stantinople was taken by the Turks,
learned Greeks were driven out to Italy
and to other parts of the West, and the
Roman Catholic world began to read
the old Greek literature. All historians
agree that the enlightenment of mind
hence arising was a prime mover of
religious reformation; and learned Pro
testants of Germany have even believed
that the overthrow of Popish error and
establishment of purer truth would have
been brought about more equably and
profoundly if Luther had never lived,
and the passions of the vulgar had never
been stimulated against the externals of
Romanism.
At any rate, it gradually opened upon
me that the free cultivation of the under
standing which Latin and Greek litera
ture had imparted to Europe, and our
freer public life, were chief causes of our
religious superiority to Greek, Armenian,
and Syrian Christians. As the Greeks
in Constantinople under a centralised
despotism retained no free intellect, and
therefore the works of their fathers did
their souls no good; so in Europe, just
in proportion to the freedom of learning
has been the force of the result. In
Spain and Italy the study of miscella
neous science and independent thought
were nearly extinguished ; in France and
Austria they were crippled ; in Protestant
countries they have been freest. And
then we impute all their effects to the
Bible!1
I at length saw how untenable is the
argument drawn from the inward history
of Christianity in favour of its super
human origin. In fact, this religion
cannot pretend to self-sustaining power.
Hardly was it started on its course when
it began to be polluted by the heathenism
and false philosophy around it. With
the decline of national genius and civil
culture it became more and more
debased. So far from being able to
uphold the existing morality of the best
Pagan teachers, it became barbarised
itself, and sank into deep superstition
and manifold moral corruption. From
ferocious men it learnt ferocity. When
civil society began to coalesce into order
Christianity also turned for the better,
and presently learned to use the wisdom
first of Romans, then of Greeks. Such
studies opened men’s eyes to new appre
hensions of the Scripture and of its
doctrine. By gradual and human means,
Europe, like ancient Greece, grew up
towards better political institutions ; and
Christianity improved with them—the
Christianity of the more educated.
Beyond Europe, where there have been
no such institutions, there has been no
Protestant Reformation—that is, in the
Greek,
Armenian, Syrian,
Coptic
churches.
Not unreasonably then do
Franks in Turkey disown the title
Nazarene, as denoting that Christianity
which has not been purified by European
laws and European learning. Christianity
rises and sinks with political and literary
influences; in so far,2 it does not differ
from other religions.
1 I am asked why Italy witnessed no improve
ment of spiritual doctrine. The reply is that she
did. The Evangelical movement there was
quelled only by the Imperial arms and the
Inquisition. I am also asked why Pagan litera
ture did not save the ancient Church from super
stition. I have always understood that the vast
majority of Christian teachers during the decline
were unacquainted with Pagan literature, and
that the Church at an early period forbade it.
2 My friend James Martineau, who insists that
“ a self-sustaining power ” in a religion is a thing
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
The same applied to the origin
and advance of Judaism. It began in
polytheistic and idolatrous barbarism ;
it cleared into a hard monotheism with
much superstition adhering to it. This
was farther improved by successive
psalmists and prophets until Judaism
culminated. The Jewish faith was emi
nently grand and pure ; but there is
nothing1 in this history which we can
adduce in proof of preternatural and
miraculous agency.
II. The facts concerning the outward
spread of Christianity have also been
disguised by the party spirit of Christians,
as though there were something essen
tially different in kind as to the mode
in which it began and continued its
conquests from the corresponding history
of other religions. But no such distinc
tion can be made out. It is general to
all religions to begin by moral means,
and proceed farther by more worldly
instruments.
Christianity had a great moral supe
riority over Roman paganism, in its
humane doctrine of universal brother
hood, its unselfishness, its holiness; and
thereby it attracted to itself (among other
and baser materials) all the purest natures
and most enthusiastic temperaments. Its
first conquests were noble and admir
able. But there is nothing superhuman
or unusual in this.
Mohammedism
in the same way conquers those pagan
creeds which are morally inferior to it.
intrinsically inconceivable, need not have censured
me for coming to the conclusion that it does not
exist in Christianity. In fact, I entirely agree
with him ; but at the time of which I here write
I had only taken the first step in his direction,
and I barely drew a negative conclusion to which
he perfectly assents.
To my dear friend’s
capacious and kindling mind all the thoughts
here expounded are prosaic and common, being
to him quite obvious, so far as they are true. He
is right in looking down upon them, and I trust,
by his aid, I have added to my wisdom since the
time of which I write. Yet they were to me
discoveries once, and he must not be displeased
at my making much of them in this connection.
1 It is the fault of my critics that I am forced
to tell the reader this is exhibited in my Hebrew
Monarchy.
77
The Seljuk and the Ottoman Turks were
pagans, but adopted the religion of
Tartars and Persians, whom they subju
gated, because it was superior, and was
blended with a superior civilisation,
exactly as the German conquerors of the
Western Empire of Rome adopted some
form of Christianity.
But, if it is true that the sword of
Mohammed was the influence which
subjected Arabia, Egypt, Syria, and Persia
to the religion of Islam, it is no less
true that the Roman Empire was finally
conquered to Christianity by the sword.
Before Constantine, Christians were but
a small fraction of the Empire. In the
preceding century they had gone on
deteriorating in good sense, and most
probably therefore in moral worth, and
had made no such rapid progress in
numbers as to imply that by the mere
process of conversion they would ever
Christianise the Empire. That the con
version of Constantine, such as it was
(for he was baptised only just before
death), was dictated by mere worldly
considerations few modern Christians
will deny.
Yet a great fact is here
implied—viz., that Christianity was
adopted as a State religion because of
the great political power accruing from
the organisation of the Churches and the
devotion of Christians to their eccle
siastical citizenship. Roman statesmen
well k-new that a hundred thousand
Roman citizens, devoted to the interests
of Rome, could keep in subjection a
population of ten millions who were
destitute of any intense patriotism, and
had no central objects of attachment.
The Christian Church had shown its
immense resisting power and its tenacious
union in the persecution by Galerius ;
and Constantine was discerning enough
to see the vast political importance of
winning over such a body, which, though
but a small fraction of the whole Empire,
was the only party which could give
coherence to that Empire, the only one
which had enthusiastic adherents in every
province, the only one on whose resolute
devotion it was possible for a partisan to
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FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
rely securely. The bravery and faithful
attachment of Christian regiments was a
lesson not lost upon Constantine, and
we may say, in some sense, that the
Christian soldiers in his armies conquered
the Empire (that is, the imperial appoint
ments) for Christianity. But paganism
subsisted, even in spite of imperial
allurements, until at length the sword of
Theodosius violently suppressed heathen
worship. So, also, it was the spear of
Charlemagne which drove the Saxons to
baptism and decided the extirpation of
paganism from Teutonic Europe. There
is nothing in all this to distinguish the
outward history of Christianity from that
of Mohammedism.
Barbarous tribes
now and then, venerating the superiority
of our knowledge, adopt our religion ; so
have pagan nations in Africa voluntarily
become Mussulmans. But neither we
nor they can appeal to any case where an
old State-religion has yielded without
warlike compulsion to the force of
heavenly truth—“ charm we never so
wisely.”
The whole influence which
Christianity exerts over the world at large
depends on the political history of
modern Europe. The Christianity of
Asia and Abyssinia is perhaps as pure
and as respectable in this nineteenth
century as it was in the fourth and fifth ;
yet no good or great deeds come forth
out of it, of such a kind that Christian
disputants dare to appeal to them with
triumph. The politico-religious and very
peculiar history of European Christendom
has alone elevated the modern world, and,
as Gibbon remarks, this whole history
has directly depended on the fate of the
great Battle of Tours, between the Moors
and the Franks. The defeat of Moham
medism by Christendom certainly has
not been effected by spiritual weapons.
The soldier and the statesman have done
to the full as much as the priest to secure
Europe for Christianity and win a
Christendom of which Christians can be
proud. As for the Christendom of Asia,
the apologists of Christianity simply
ignore it. With these facts, how can it
be pretended that the external history of
Christianity points to an exclusively
divine origin ?
The author of the Eclipse of Faith has
derided me for despatching in two para
graphs what occupied Gibbon’s whole
fifteenth chapter; but this author, here
as always, misrepresents me. Gibbon is
exhibiting and developing the deep-seated
causes of the spread of Christianity
before Constantine, and he by no means
exhausts the subject. I am comparing
the ostensible and notorious facts con
cerning the outward conquest of Chris
tianity with those of other religions. To
account for the early growth of any
religion, Christian, Mussulman, or Mormonite, is always difficult.
III. The moral advantages which we
owe to Christianity have been exag
gerated by the same party spirit, as if
there were in them anything miraculous.
1. We are told that Christianity is
the decisive influence which has raised
womankind. This does not appear to be
true. The old Roman matron was,
relatively to her husband,1 morally as
high as in modern Italy; nor is there
any ground for supposing that modern
women have advantage over the ancient
in Spain and Portugal, where Germanic
have been counteracted by Moorish
influences. The relative position of the
sexes in Homeric Greece exhibits nothing
materially different from the present day.
In Armenia and Syria perhaps Chris
tianity has done the service of extinguish
ing polygamy. This is creditable, though
nowise miraculous. Judaism also unlearnt
polygamy, and made an unbidden im
provement upon Moses. In short, only
in countries where Germanic sentiment
has taken root do we see marks of any
elevation of the female sex superior to
that of Pagan antiquity; and, as this
elevation of the German woman in her
deepest Paganism was already striking to
1 It is not to the purpose to urge the political
minority of the Roman wife. This was a mere
inference from the high power of the head of the
household. The father had right of death over
his son, and (as the lawyers stated the case) the
wife was on the level of one of the children.
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
Tacitus and his contemporaries, it is
highly unreasonable to claim it as an
achievement of Christianity.
In point of fact, Christian doctrine, as
propounded by Paul, is not at all so
honourable to woman as that which
German soundness of heart has estab
lished. With Paul1 the sole reason for
marriage is that a man may gratify
instinct without sin. He teaches that
but for this object it would be better not
to marry. He wishes that all were in
this respect as free as himself, and calls
it a special gift of God. He does not
encourage a man to desire a mutual soul
intimately to share griefs and joys; one
in whom the confiding heart can repose,
whose smile shall reward and soften toil,
whose voice shall beguile sorrow. He
does not seem aware that the fascina
tions of woman refine and chasten
society; that virtuous attachment has
in it an element of respect, which abashes
and purifies, and which shields the soul,
even when marriage is deferred; nor yet
that the union of two persons who have
no previous affection can seldom yield
the highest fruits of matrimony, but often
leads to the severest temptations. How
should he have known all this ? Court
ship before marriage did not exist in the
society open to him; hence he treats the
propriety of giving away a maiden as
one in which her conscience, her likes
and dislikes, are not concerned (i. Cor.
vii. 37, 38). If the law leaves the parent
“ power over his own will,” and imposes
no “ necessity ” to give her away, Paul
decidedly advises to keep her un
married.
The author of the Apocalypse, a writer
of the first century, who was received in
the second as John the Apostle, holds up
a yet more degrading view of the matri
monial relation. In one of his visions
he exhibits 144,000 chosen saints, per
petual attendants of “the Lamb,” and
places the cardinal point of their sanctity
in the fact that “ they were not defiled
with women, but were virgins.” Mar
1 I Cor. vii. 2-9.
79
riage, therefore, is defilement! Protestant writers struggle in vain against this
obvious meaning of the passage.
Against all analogy of Scriptural meta
phor, they gratuitously pretend that
women mean idolatrous religions; namely,
because in the Old Testament the Jewish
Church is personified as a virgin
betrothed to God, and an idol is spoken
of as her paramour.
As a result of the Apostolic doctrines,
in the second, third, and following
centuries, very gross views concerning
the relation of the sexes prevailed, and
have been everywhere transmitted where
men’s morality is exclusively1 formed
from the New Testament. The marriage
service of the Church of England, which
incorporates the Pauline doctrine, is felt
by English brides and bridegrooms to
contain what is so offensive and degrad
ing that many clergymen mercifully make
unlawful omissions. Paul had indeed
expressly denounced prohibitions of
marriage. In merely dissuading it, he
gave advice which, from his limited
horizon and under his expectation of the
speedy return of Christ, was sensible and
good; but when this advice, with all its
reasons, was made an oracle of eternal
wisdom, it generated the monkish notions
concerning womanhood. If the desire
of a wife is a weakness, which the Apostle
would gladly have forbidden only that
he feared worse consequences, an enthu
siastic youth cannot but infer that it is a
higher state of perfection not to desire a
wife, and therefore aspires to “the crown
of virginity.” Here at once is full-grown
monkery. Hence that debasement of the
imagination which is directed perpetually
to the lowest, instead of the highest, side of
the female nature. Hence the disgusting
admiration and invocation of Mary’s
perpetual virginity. Hence the trans
cendental doctrine of her immaculate
1 Namely, in the Armenian, Syrian, and
Greek Churches, and in the Romish Church, in
exact proportion as Germanic and poetical
influences have been repressed—that is, in pro
portion as the hereditary Christian doctrine has
been kept pure from modern innovations.
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FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
conception from Anne, the “grandmother
of God.”
In the above my critics have repre
sented me to say that Christianity has
done nothing for women. I have not
said so, but that what it has done has
been exaggerated. I say : If the theory
of Christianity is to take credit from the
history of Christendom, it must also
receive discredit. Taking in the whole
system of nuns and celibates, and the
doctrine which sustains it, the root of
which is Apostolic, I doubt whether any
balance of credit remains over from this
side of Christian history. I am well
aware that the democratic doctrine of
“the equality of souls ” has a tendency to
elevate women—and the poorer orders,
too ; but this is not the whole of actual
Christianity, which is a very hetero
geneous mass.
2. Again, the modern doctrine by aid
of which West Indian slavery has been
exterminated is often put forward as
Christian; but I had always discerned
that it was not Biblical, and that in
respect to this great triumph undue credit
has been claimed for the fixed Biblical
and authoritative doctrine. As I have
been greatly misunderstood in my first
edition, I am induced to expand this
topic.
Sir George Stephen,1 after
describing the long struggle in England
against the West Indian interest and
other obstacles, says that for some time,
“ worst of all, we found the people, not
actually against us, but apathetic, leth
argic, incredulous, indifferent. It was
then, and not till then, that we sounded
the right note, and touched a chord that
never ceased to vibrate.
To uphold
slavery was a crime against God 1 It
was a novel doctrine, but it was a cry
that was heard, for it would be heard.
The national conscience was awakened
to inquiry, and inquiry soon produced
conviction.” Sir George justly calls the
doctrine novel. As developed in the
controversy, it laid down the general
proposition that men and women are not,
and cannot be, chattels; and that all
human enactments which decree this are
morally null and void, as sinning against
the higher law of nature and of God.
And the reason of this lies in the essential
contrast of a moral personality and a
chattel. Criminals may deserve to be
bound and scourged, but they do not
cease to be persons, nor, indeed, do even
the insane. Since every man is a person,
he cannot be a piece of property, nor
has an “owner” any just and moral
claim to his services. Usage, so far
from conferring this claim, increases the
total amount of injustice ; the longer an
innocent man is forcibly kept in slavery,
the greater the reparation to which he is
entitled for the oppressive immorality.
This doctrine I now believe to be
irrefutable truth, but I disbelieved it
while I thought the Scripture authorita
tive, because I found a very different
doctrine there—a doctrine which is the
argumentative stronghold of the American
slaveholder. Paul sent back the fugitive
Onesimus to his master Philemon, with
kind recommendations and apologies
for the slave, and a tender charge to
Philemon that he would receive
Onesimus as a brother in the Lord,
since he had been converted by Paul in
the interval; but this very recommenda
tion, full of affection as it is, virtually
recognises the moral rights of Philemon
to the services of his slave ; and, hinting
that, if Onesimus stole anything, Philemon
should now forgive him, Paul shows
perfect insensibility to the fact that the
master who detains a slave in captivity
against his will is guilty himself of a
continual theft. What says Mrs. Beecher
Stowe’s Cassy to this ? “ Stealing ! They
who steal body and soul need not talk
to us. Every one of these bills is stolen
—stolen from poor, starving, sweating
creatures.” Now Onesimus, in the very
act of taking to flight, showed that he had
been submitting to servitude against his
will, and that the house of his owner had
1 In a tract republished from the Northampton previously been a prison to him. To
Mercury. Longman, 1853.
I suppose that Philemon has a pecuniary
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
interest in the return of Onesimus to
work without wages implies that the
master habitually steals the slave’s
earnings; but if he loses nothing by
the flight he has not been wronged by
it. Such is the modem doctrine,
developed out of the fundamental fact
that persons are not chattels ; but it is
to me wonderful that it should be needful
to prove to anyone that this is not the
doctrine of the New Testament. Paul
and Peter deliver excellent charges to
masters in regard to the treatment of
their slaves, but without any hint to
them that there is an injustice in
claiming them as slaves at all. That
slavery, as a system, is essentially
immoral no Christian of those days
seems to have suspected. Yet it existed
in its worst forms under Rome. Whole
gangs of slaves were mere tools of
capitalists, and were numbered like
cattle, with no moral relationship to the
owner; young women of beautiful person
were sold as articles of voluptuousness.
Of course, every such fact was looked
upon by Christians as hateful and
dreadful; yet, I say, it did not lead them
to that moral condemnation of slavery,
as such, which has won the most signal
victory in modern times, and is destined,
I trust, to win one far greater.
A friendly reviewer replies to this, that
the apathy of the early Christians to the
intrinsic iniquity of the slave system rose
out of “ their expectation of an imme
diate close of this world’s affairs. The
only reason why Paul sanctioned content
ment with his condition in the converted
slave was that for so short a time it was
not worth while for any man to change
his state.” I agree to this, but it does
not alter my fact; on the contrary, it
confirms what I say—that the Biblical
morality is not final truth. To account
for an error surely is not to deny it.
Another writer has said on the above :
“ Let me suppose you animated to go as
missionary to the East to preach this
(Mr. Newman’s) spiritual system ; would
you, in addition to all this, publicly
denounce the social and political evils
81
under which the nations groan ? If so,
your spiritual projects would soon be
perfectly understood and summarily dealt
with. It is vain to say that, if commis
sioned by heaven and endowed with power
of working miracles, you would do so, for
you cannot tell under what limitations
your commission would be given; it is
pretty certain that it would leave you to
work a moral and spiritual system by
moral and spiritual means, and not allow
you to turn the world upside down, and
mendaciously tell it that you came only
to preach peace, while every syllable
you uttered would be an incentive to
sedition ” {Eclipse of Faith, p. 419).
This writer supposes that he is
attacking me, when every line is an
attack on Christ and Christianity.
Have I pretended power of working
miracles ? Have I imagined or desired
that miracle would shield me from
persecution? Did Jesus not “publicly
denounce the social and political evils ”
of Judsea ? Was he not “ summarily
dealt with ” ? Did he not know that his
doctrine would send on earth “not
peace, but a sword ” ? And was he
mendacious in saying, “ Peace I leave
unto you ”; or were the angels menda
cious in proclaiming, “ Peace on earth,
goodwill among men ” ? Was not “ every
syllable that Jesus uttered ” in the
discourse of Matt, xxiii. “an incentive
to sedition”? And does this writer judge
it to be mendacity that Jesus opened by
advising to obey the very men whom he
proceeds to vilify at large as immoral,
oppressive, hypocritical, blind, and
destined to the damnation of hell ? Or
have I anywhere blamed the Apostles
because they did not exasperate wicked
men by direct attacks ? It is impossible
to answer such a writer as this ; for he
elaborately misses to touch what I have
said. On the other hand, it is rather
too much to require me to defend Jesus
from his assault.
Christian preachers did not escape the
imputation of turning the world upside
down, and at length, in some sense,
effected what was imputed. It is matter
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FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE FAIN
of conjecture whether any greater con
vulsion would have happened if the
Apostles had done as the Quakers in
America. No Quaker holds slaves ; why
not? Because the Quakers teach their
members that it is an essential immorality.
The slave-holding States are infinitely
more alive and jealous to keep up their
“ peculiar institution ” than was the
Roman government; yet the Quakers
have caused no political convulsion. I
confess to me it seems that if Paul, and
John, and Peter, and James, had done
as these Quakers, the imperial adminis
tration would have looked on it as a
harmless eccentricity of the sect, and
not as an incentive1 to sedition. But
be this as it may, I did not say what
else the Apostles might have succeeded
to enforce ; I merely pointed out what
it was that they actually taught, and
that, as a fact, they did not declare
slavery to be an immorality and the
basest of thefts. If anyone thinks their
course was more wise, he may be right or
wrong, but his opinion is in itself a con
cession of my fact.
As to the historical progress of Chris
tian practice and doctrine on this subject,
it is, as usual, mixed of good and evil.
The'humanity of good pagan emperors
softened the harshness of the laws of
bondage, and manumission had always
been extremely common among the
Romans. Of course, the more humane
religion of Christ acted still more power
fully in the same direction, especially in
inculcating the propriety of freeing
Christian slaves. This was creditable,
but not peculiar, and is not a fact of
such a nature as to add to the exclusive
claims of Christianity. To every pro
selytising religion the sentiment is so
natural that no divine spirit is needed to
-originate and establish it. Moham
medans also have a conscience against
enslaving Mohammedans, and generally
bestow freedom on a slave as soon as he
adopts their religion. But no zeal for
human freedom has ever grown out of the
purely Biblical and ecclesiastical system,
any more than out of the Mohammedan.
In the Middle Ages zeal for the libera
tion of serfs first rose in the breasts of
the clergy after the whole population had
become nominally Christian. It was not
men, but Christians, whom the clergy
desired to make free : it is hard to say
that they thought Pagans to have any
human rights at all, even to life. Nor
is it correct to represent ecclesiastical
influences as the sole agency which over
threw slavery and serfdom. The desire
of the kings to raise up the chartered
cities as a bridle to the barons was that
which chiefly made rustic slavery unten
able in its coarsest form, for a “ villain ”
who escaped into the free cities could
not be recovered. In later times the
first public act against slavery came from
republican France, in the madness of
Atheistic enthusiasm, when she declared
black and white men to be equally free,
and liberated the negroes of St. Domingo.
In Britain the battle of social freedom
has been fought chiefly by that religious
sect which rests least on the letter of
Scripture. The bishops, and the more
learned clergy, have consistently been
apathetic to the duty of overthrowing
the slave system. I was thus led to
see that here also the New Testament
precepts must not be received by me as
any final and authoritative law of morality.
But I meet opposition in a quarter
from which I had least expected it; from
one who admits the imperfection of the
morality actually attained by the Apostles,
but avows that Christianity, as a divine
system, is not to be identified with
Apostolic doctrine, but with the doctrine
ultimately developed in the Christian
Church. Moreover, the ecclesiastical
1 The Romans practised fornication at pleasure, doctrine concerning slavery he alleges
and held it ridiculous to blame them. If Paul to be truer than mine—I mean, truer
had claimed authority to hinder them, they might than that which I have expounded as
have been greatly exasperated ; but they had not
the least objection to his denouncing fornication held by modern abolitionists. He ap
as immoral to Christians. Why not slavery also? proves oi the principle of claiming
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
83
freedom not for men, but for Christians. —to deny that pagans have human rights ?
He says : “That Christianity opened its “That Christianity opened its arms at
arms at all to the servile class was all to the servile class was enough?'
enough; for in its embrace was the sure Indeed ! Then either unconverted men
promise of emancipation........ Is it im have no natural right to freedom, or<
puted as a disgrace that Christianity put Christians may withhold a natural right
conversion before manumission, and from them. Under the plea of “ bring
brought them to God, ere it trusted them ing them to God,” Christians are to deny
with themselves t....... It created the simul by law to every slave who refuses to be
taneous obligation to make the Pagan converted the rights of husband and
a convert and the convert free........ If father, rights of person, rights of pro
our author had made his attack from the perty, rights over his own body. Thus
opposite side, and contended that its manumission is a bribe to make hypo
doctrines ‘ proved too much ’ against critical converts, and Christian superiority
servitude, and assumed with too little a plea for depriving men of their dearest
qualification the capacity of each man for rights. Is not freedom older than Chris
self-rule, we should have felt more hesi tianity ? Does the Christian recom mend
his religion to a pagan by stealing his
tation in expressing our dissent.”
I feel unfeigned surprise at these sen manhood and all that belongs to it?
timents from one whom I so highly Truly, if only Christians have a right to
esteem and admire; and, considering personal freedom, what harm is there in
that they were written at first anony hunting and catching pagans to make
mously, and perhaps under pressure of slaves of them ? And this was exactly
time, for a review, I hope it is not pre the “ development” of thought and doc
sumptuous in me to think it possible trine in the Christian Church. The
that they are hasty, and do not wholly same priests who taught that Christians
express a deliberate and final judgment. have moral rights to their sinews and
I must think there is some misunder skin, to their wives and children, and to
standing, for I have made no high claims the fruit of their labour, which pagans
about capacity for self-rule, as if laws have not, consistently developed the
and penalties were to be done away. same fundamental idea of Christian
But the question is, shall human beings, superiority into the lawfulness of making
who (as all of us) are imperfect, be con war upon the heathen and reducing
trolled by public law or by individual them to the state of domestic animals.
caprice? Was not my reviewer intend If Christianity is to have credit from the
ing to advocate some form of serfdom former, it must also take the credit of the
which is compatible with legal rights and latter. If cumulative evidence of its
recognises the serf as a man ; not slavery divine origin is found in the fact that
which pronounces him a chattel ? Serf Christendom has liberated Christian
dom and apprenticeship we may perhaps slaves, must we forget the cumulative
leave to be reasoned down by econo evidence afforded by the assumed right
mists and administrators ; slavery proper of the popes to carve out the countries
is what I attacked as essentially im of the heathen and bestow them with
their inhabitants on Christian powers?
moral.
Returning, then, to the arguments, I Both results flow logically out of the
reason against them as if I did not know same assumption, and were developed
their author. I have distinctly avowed by the same school.
But, I am told, a man must not be
that the effort to liberate Christian slaves
was creditable. I merely add that in freed until we have ascertained his
this respect Christianity is no better than capacity for self-rule ! This is indeed a
Mohammedism. But is it really no tyrannical assumption: vindicice. secun
moral fault—is it not a moral enormity dum servitutem. Men are not to have
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FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
their human rights until we think they
will not abuse them ! Prevention is to
be used against the hitherto innocent and
injured ! The principle involves all that
is arrogant, violent, and intrusive in
military tyranny and civil espionage.
Self-rule ? But abolitionists have no
thought of exempting men from the
penalties of common law if they trans
gress the law; we only desire that all
men shall be equally subjected to the
law and equally protected by it. It is
truly a strange inference that, because a
man is possibly deficient in virtue, there
fore he shall not be subject to public
law, but to private caprice; as if this
were a school of virtue, and not eminently
an occasion of vice. Truer far is Homer’s
morality, who says that a man.loses half
his virtue on the day he is made a slave.
As to the pretence that slaves are not fit
for freedom, those Englishmen who are
old enough to remember the awful pre
dictions which West Indian planters used
to pour forth about the bloodshed and
confusion which would ensue if they
were hindered by law from scourging
black men and violating black women
might, I think, afford to despise the
danger of enacting that men and women
shall be treated as men and women, and
not made tools of vice and victims of
cruelty. If ever sudden emancipation
ought to have produced violences and
wrong from the emancipated, it was in
Jamaica, where the oppression and illwill was so great; yet the freed blacks
have not in fifteen years inflicted on the
whites as much lawless violence as they
suffered themselves in six months of
apprenticeship. It is the masters of
slaves, not the slaves, who are deficient
in self-rule ; and slavery is doubly
detestable because it depraves the
masters.
What degree of “ worldly moderation
and economical forethought” is needed
by a practical statesman in effecting the
liberation of slaves it is no business of
mine to discuss. I, however, feel
assured that no constitutional statesman,
having to contend against the political
votes of numerous and powerful slave
owners, who believe their fortunes to be
at stake, will ever be found to undertake
the task at all against the enormous
resistance of avarice and habit, unless
religious teachers pierce the conscience
of the nation by denouncing slavery as
an essential wickedness. Even the petty
West Indian interests—a mere fraction
of the English Empire—were too power
ful until this doctrine was taught. Mr.
Canning, in Parliament, spoke emphati
cally against slavery, but did not dare to
bring in a Bill against it. When such is
English experience, I cannot but expect
the same will prove true in America.
In replying to objectors I have been
carried beyond my narrative, and have
written from my present point of view ; I
may, therefore, here complete this part
of the argument, though by anticipation.
The New Testament has beautifully
laid down truth and love as the culmi
nating virtues of man, but it has imper
fectly discerned that love is impossible
where justice does not go first. Regard
ing this world as destined to be soon
burnt up, it despaired of improving the
foundations of society, #and laid down
the principle of non-resistance, even to
injurious force, in terms so unlimited as
practically to throw its entire weight into
the scale of tyranny. It recognises indi
viduals who call themselves kings or
magistrates (however tyrannical and
usurping) as powers ordained of God;
it does not recognise nations as com
munities ordained of God, or as having
any power and authority whatsoever as
against pretentious individuals. To obey
a king is strenuously enforced; to resist
a usurping king in a patriotic cause is
not contemplated in the New Testament
as under any circumstances an imagin
able duty. Patriotism has no recognised
existence in the Christian records. I am
well aware of the cause of this : I do not
say that it reflects any dishonour on the
Christian Apostles ; I merely remark on
it as a calamitous fact, and deduce that
their precepts cannot, and must not, be
made the sufficient rule of life, or they
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
85
God will visit men with fiery vengeance
for holding an erroneous creed; that
vengeance, indeed, is his, not ours; but
that still the punishment is deserved. It
would appear that, wherever this doctrine
is held, possession of power for two or
three generations inevitably converts men
into persecutors ; and in so far we must
lay the horrible desolations which Europe
has suffered from bigotry at the doors,
not indeed of the Christian Apostles
themselves, but of that Bibliolatry which
has converted their earliest records into
a perfect and eternal law.
IV. “ Prophecy ” is generally regarded
as a leading evidence of the divine origin
of Christianity. But this also had proved
itself to me a more and more mouldering
prop, whether I leant on those which
concerned Messiah, those of the New
Testament, or the miscellaneous predic
tions of the Old Testament.
1. As to the Messianic prophecies, I
began to be pressed with the difficulty of
proving against the Jews that “ Messiah
was to suffer.” The Psalms generally
adduced for this purpose can in no way
be fixed on Messiah. The prophecy in
the ninth chapter of Daniel looks specious
in the authorised English version, but
has evaporated in the Greek translation,
and is not acknowledged in the best
German renderings. I still rested on the
fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, as alone
fortifying me against the Rabbis, yet with
an unpleasantly increasing perception that
the system of “double interpretation” in
which Christians indulge is a playing fast
and loose with prophecy and is essentially
dishonest. No one dreams of a “second
sense'" until the primary sense proves falser
all false prophecy may be thus screened.
fear it cannot be denied that the zeal for The three prophecies quoted (Acts xiii.
will still be (as they always have hitherto
been) a mainstay of tyranny. The rights
of men and of nations are wholly ignored1
in the New Testament, but the authority
of slave-owners and of kings is very
distinctly recorded for solemn religious
sanction. If it had been wholly silent,
no one could have appealed to its
decision; but by consecrating mere
force it has promoted injustice, and in
so far has made that love impossible
which it desired to establish.
It is but one part of this great subject
that the Apostles absolutely command a
slave to give obedience to his master in
all things, “as to the Lord.” It is in
vain to deny that the most grasping
of slave-owners asks nothing more of
abolitionists than that they would all adopt
Pauls creed—viz., acknowledge the full
authority of owners of slaves, tell them
that they are responsible to God alone,
and charge them to use their power
righteously and mercifully.
3. Lastly, it is a lamentable fact that
not only do superstitions about witches,
ghosts, devils, and diabolical miracles
derive a strong support from the Bible
(and, in fact, have been exploded by
nothing but the advance of physical
philosophy), but, what is far worse, the
Bible alone has nowhere sufficed to
establish an enlightened religious tolera
tion. This is at first seemingly unintelli
gible, for the Apostles certainly would
have been intensely shocked at the
thought of punishing men in body, purse,
or station for not being Christians or not
being orthodox. Nevertheless, not only
does the Old Testament justify bloody
persecution, but the New teaches1 that
2
1 I
Christianity which began to arise in our upper
classes sixty years ago was largely prompted by
a feeling that its precepts repress all speculations
concerning the rights of man. A similar cause
now influences despots all over Europe. The
Old Testament contains the elements which they
dread, and these gave a political creed to our
Puritans.
2 More than one critic flatly denies the fact.
It is sufficient for me here to say that such is
the obvious interpretation, and such historically
has been the interpretation of various texts—for
instance, 2 Thess. i. 7-8 : “ The Lord Jesus shall
be revealed.......in flaming fire taking vengeance
on them that know not God and that obey not the
Gospel;...... who shall be punished with everlasting
destruction,” etc. Such, again, is the sense
which all popular minds receive, and must
receive, from Heb. x. 25-31. I am willing to
change teaches into has always been understood to
teach, if my critics think anything is gained by it.
�86
FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
33-35) in proof of the resurrection of
Jesus are simply puerile, and deserve no
reply.
I felt there was something
unsound in all this.
2. The prophecies of the New Testa
ment are not many. First, we have that
of Jesus, in Matt, xxiv., concerning the
destruction of Jerusalem.
It is mar
vellously exact down to the capture of
the city and miserable enslavement of the
population ; but at this point it becomes
clearly and hopelessly false—namely, it
declares that “ immediately after that
tribulation the sun shall be darkened,
etc., etc., and then shall appear the sign
of the Son of Man in heaven, and then
shall all the tribes of the earth mourn,
and they shall see the Son of Man
coming in the clouds of heaven with
power and great glory.
And he shall
send his angels with a great sound of a
trumpet, and they shall gather together
his elect,” etc.
This is a manifest
description of the great Day of Judgment,
and the prophecy goes on to add :
“Verily I say unto you, This generation
shall not pass till all these things be
fulfilled.” When we thus find a predic
tion to break down suddenly in the
middle, we have the well-known mark
of its earlier part being written after the
event ; and it becomes unreasonable to
doubt that the detailed annunciations of
this twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew
were first composed very soon after the
war of Titus, and never came from the
lips of Jesus at all. Next, we have the
prophecies of the Apocalypse. Not one
of these can be interpreted certainly of
any human affairs, except one in the
seventeenth chapter, which the writer
himself has explained to apply to the
emperors of Rome, and that is proved
false by the event. Farther, we have
Paul’s prophecies concerning the apostasy
of the Christian Church. These are very
striking, as they indicate his deep insight
into the moral tendencies of the com
munity in which he moved. They are
high testimonies to the prophetic soul of
Paul, and, as such, I cannot have any
desire to weaken their force. But there
is nothing in them that can establish the
theory of supernaturalism, in the face of
his great mistake as to the speedy return
of Christ from heaven.
3. As for the Old Testament, if all its
prophecies about Babylon and Tyre and
Edom and Ishmael and the four
Monarchies were both true and super
natural, what would this prove ? That
God had been pleased to reveal some
thing of coming history to certain eminent
men of Hebrew antiquity. That is all.
We should receive this conclusion with
an otiose faith. It could not order or
authorise us to submit our souls and
consciences to the obviously defective
morality of the Mosaic system in which
these prophets lived; and with Chris
tianity it has nothing to do.
At the same time I had reached the
conclusion that large deductions must be
made from the credit of these old
prophecies.
First, as to the book of Daniel, the
eleventh chapter is closely historical down
to. Antiochus Epiphanes, after which it
suddenly becomes false, and, according
to different modern expositors, leaps
away to Mark Antony, or to Napoleon
Buonaparte, or to the Papacy. Hence we
have a primd fade presumption that the
book was composed in the reign of that
Antiochus; nor can it be proved to have
existed earlier; nor is there in it one word
of prophecy which can be shown to have
been fulfilled in regard to any later era.
Nay, the seventh chapter also is confuted
by the event; for the great Day of Judg
ment has not followed upon the fourth1
monarchy.
Next, as to the prophecies of the
Pentateuch. They abound, as to the
times which precede the century of
Hezekiah ; higher than which we cannot
trace the Pentateuch.2 No prophecy of
1 The four monarchies in chapters ii. and vii.
are probably the Babylonian, the Median, the
Persian, the Macedonian. Interpreters, how
ever, blend the Medes and Persians into one, and
then pretend that the Roman Empire is still in
existence.
2 The first apparent reference is by Micah
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
87
the Pentateuch can be proved to have this phenomenon, I saw it infallibly1 to
been fulfilled which had not been already indicate that John has made both the
Baptist and Jesus speak as John himself
fulfilled before Hezekiah’s day.
Thirdly, as to the prophecies which would have spoken, and that we cannot
concern various nations — some of trust the historical reality of the dis
them are remarkably verified, -as that courses in the Fourth Gospel.
That narrative introduces an entirely
against Babylon; others failed, as those
of Ezekiel concerning Nebuchadnezzar’s new phraseology, with a perpetual dis
wars against Tyre and Egypt. The fate coursing about the Father and the Son,
predicted against Babylon was delayed of which there is barely the germ in
for five centuries, so as to lose all moral Matthew—and herewith a new doctrine
meaning as a divine infliction on the concerning the heaven-descended perso
haughty city. On the whole, it was nality of Jesus. That the divinity of
clear to me that it is a vain attempt to Christ cannot be proved from the first
forge polemical weapons out of these old three Gospels was confessed by the early
prophets for the service of modern Church and is proved by the labouring
arguments of the modern Trinitarians.
creeds.1
V. My study of John’s Gospel had not What, then, can be clearer than that John
enabled me to sustain Dr. Arnold’s view, has put into the mouth of Jesus the
that it was an impregnable fortress of doctrines of half a century later, which
he desired to recommend ?
Christianity.
When this' conclusion pressed itself
In discussing the Apocalypse, I had
long before felt a doubt whether we first on my mind the name of Strauss was
ought not rather to assign that book to only beginning to be known in England,
John the Apostle in preference to the and I did not read his great work until
Gospel and Epistles ; but this remained years after I had come to a final opinion
only as a doubt. The monotony also of on thiswhole subject. The contemptuous
the Gospel had often excited my -wonder. reprobation of Strauss in which it is
But I was for the first time offended, on fashionable for English writers to indulge
considering with a fresh mind an old makes it a duty to express my high
fact—the great similarity of the style and sense of the lucid force with which he
phraseology in the third chapter, in the unanswerably shows that the Fourth
testimony of the Baptist, as well as in Gospel (whoever the author was) is no
Christ’s address to Nicodemus, to that of faithful exhibition of the discourses of
John’s own Epistle. As the first three Jesus. Before I had discerned this so
Gospels have their family likeness, vividly in all its parts, it had become
which enables us on hearing a text to quite certain to me that the secret
know that it comes out of one of the colloquy with Nicodemus, and the
three, though we perhaps know not splendid testimony of the Baptist to the
which; so is it with the Gospel and
Epistles of John. When a verse is read,
1 A critic is pleased to call this a mere
we know that it is either from an Epistle suspicion of my own. In so writing people simply
of John or else from the Jesus of John; evade my argument. I do not ask them to
but often we cannot tell which. On adopt my conviction ; I merely communicate it
and wish
is my
contemplating the marked character of as mine, follow mythem to admit thatItit is with
duty to
own conviction.
(vi. 5), a contemporary of Hezekiah ; which proves
that an account contained in our book of Num
bers was already familiar.
1 I have had occasion to discuss most of the
leading prophecies of the Old Testament in my
Hebrew Monarchy.
me no mere “ suspicion,” but a certainty. When
they cannot possibly give, or pretend, any proof
that the long discourses of the Fourth Gospel
have been accurately reported, they ought to be
less supercilious in their claims of unlimited
belief. If it is right for them to follow their
judgment on a purely literary question, let them
not carp at me for following mine.
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FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
Father and the Son, were wholly
modelled out of John’s own imagination.
And no sooner had I felt how severe was
the shock to John’s general veracity than
a new and even graver difficulty rose
upon me.
The stupendous and public event of
Lazarus’s resurrection—the circumstan
tial cross-examination of the man born
blind and healed by Jesus—made those
two miracles, in Dr. Arnold’s view, grand
and unassailable bulwarks of Christianity.
The more I considered them, the
mightier their superiority seemed to
those of the other Gospels. They were
wrought at Jerusalem, under the eyes of
the rulers, who did their utmost to detect
them, and could not; but in frenzied
despair plotted to kill Lazarus. How
different from the frequently vague and
wholesale statements of the other Gospels
concerning events which happened where
no enemy was watching to expose
delusion—many of them in distant and
uncertain localities !
But it became the more needful to
ask, How was it that the other writers
omitted to tell of such decisive exhibi
tions ? Were they so dull in logic as not
to discern the superiority of these ? Can
they possibly have known of such mira
cles, wrought under the eyes of the
Pharisees, and defying all their malice,
and yet have told in preference other
less convincing marvels ? The question
could not be long dwelt on without
eliciting the reply: “ It is necessary to
believe, at least until the contrary shall
be proved, that the first three writers
either had never heard of these two
miracles or disbelieved them.” Thus
the account rests on the unsupported
evidence of John, with a weighty pre
sumption against its truth.
When, where, and in what circum
stances did John write ? It is agreed
that he wrote half a century after the
events, when the other disciples were all
dead, when Jerusalem was destroyed,
her priests and learned men dispersed,
her nationality dissolved, her coherence
annihilated ; he wrote in a tongue foreign
to the Jews of Palestine, and for a foreign
people, in a distant country, and in the
bosom of an admiring and confiding
Church, which was likely to venerate him
the more the greater marvels he asserted
concerning their Master. He told them
miracles of first-rate magnitude which no
one before had recorded. Is it possible
for me to receive them on his word under
circumstances so conducive to delusion,
and without a single check to ensure his
accuracy? Quite impossible, when I
have already seen how little to be trusted
is his report of the discourses and doc
trine of Jesus.
But was it necessary to impute to
John conscious and wilful deception ?
By no means absolutely necessary, as
appeared by the following train1 of
thought. John tells us that Jesus pro
mised the Comforter, to bring to their
memory things that concerned him. Oh
that one could have the satisfaction of
cross-examining John on this subject!
Let me suppose him put into the
witness-box, and I will speak to him
thus : “ O aged Sir, we understand that
you have two memories, a natural and a
miraculous one : with the former you
retain events as other men; with the
latter you recall what had been totally
forgotten. Be pleased to tell us now :
is it from your natural or from your
supernatural memory that you derive
your knowledge of the miracle wrought
on Lazarus and the long discourses
which you narrate?” If to this question
John were frankly to reply, “It is solely
from my supernatural memory—from the
special action of the Comforter on my
mind,” then should I discern that he
was perfectly true-hearted. Yet I should
also see that he was liable to mistake a
reverie, a meditation, a day-dream, for a
resuscitation of his memory by the Spirit.
In short, a writer who believes such a
doctrine, and does not think it requisite
1 I am told that this defence of John is
fanciful. It satisfies me provisionally ; but I do
not hold myself bound to satisfy others, or to
explain John’s delusiveness.
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
to warn us how much of his tale comes
from his natural and how much from his
supernatural memory, forfeits all claim
to be received as an historian, witnessing
by the common senses to external fact.
His work may have religious value, but
it is that of a novel or romance, not of a
history. It is therefore superfluous to
name the many other difficulties in detail
which it contains.
Thus was I flung back to the first
three Gospels, as, with all their defects—
their genealogies, dreams, visions, devil
miracles, and prophecies written after the
event—yet, on the whole, more faithful
as a picture of the true Jesus than that
which is exhibited in John.
VI. And now my small root of super
naturalism clung the tighter to Paul,
whose conversion still appeared to me a
guarantee that there was at least some
nucleus of miracle in Christianity,
although it had not pleased God to give
us any very definite and trustworthy
account. Clearly it was an error to
make miracles our foundation; but
might we not hold them as a result?
Doctrine must be our foundation; but
perhaps we might believe the miracles
for the sake of it. And in the Epistles
of Paul I thought I saw various indica
tions that he took this view. The prac
tical soundness of his eminently sober
understanding had appeared to me the
more signal the more I discerned the
atmosphere of erroneousphilosophy which
he necessarily breathed. But he also
proved a broken reed when I tried really
to lean upon him as a main support.
i. The first thing that broke on me
concerning Paul was that his moral
sobriety of mind was no guarantee
against his mistaking extravagances for
miracle. This was manifest to me in
his treatment of the gift of tongues.
So long ago as in 1830, when the
Irving “miracles” commenced in Scot
land, my particular attention had been
turned to this subject, and the Irvingite
exposition of the Pauline phenomena
appeared to me so correct that I was
vehemently predisposed to believe the
S9
miraculous tongues. But my friend “ the
Irish clergyman ” wrote me a full account
of what he heard with his own ears,
which was to the effect that none of the
sounds, vowels or consonants, were
foreign; that the strange words were
moulded after the Latin grammar, ending
in -abus, -obus, -ebat, -avi, etc., so as
to denote poverty of invention rather than
spiritual agency; and that there was no
interpretation. The last point decided
me that any belief which I had in it
must be for the present unpractical.
Soon after, a friend of mine applied by
letter for information as to the facts to a
very acute and pious Scotchman, who had
become a believer in these miracles.
The first reply gave us no facts whatever,
but was a declamatory exhortation to
believe. The second was nothing but a
lamentation over my friend’s unbelief,
because he asked again for the facts. This
showed me that there was excitement
and delusion ; yet the general phenomena
appeared so similar to those of the Church
of Corinth that I supposed the persons
must unawares have copied the exterior
manifestations, if, after all, there was no
reality at bottom.
Three years sufficed to explode these
tongues; and from time to time I had an
uneasy sense how much discredit they
cast on the Corinthian miracles. Neander’s
discussion on the second chapter of the
Acts first opened to me the certainty that
Luke (or the authority whom he followed)
has exaggerated into a gift of languages
what cannot have been essentially dif
ferent from the Corinthian, and in short
from the Irvingite, tongues.
Thus
Luke’s narrative has transformed into a
splendid miracle what in Paul is no
miracle at all. It is true that Paul speaks
of interpretation oftongues as possible, but
without a hint that any verification was
to be used. Besides, why should a Greek
not speak Greek in an assembly of his
own countrymen? Is it credible that
the Spirit should inspire one man to utter
unintelligible sounds, and a second to
interpret these, and then give the
assembly endless trouble to find out
�9°
FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
whether the interpretation was pretence
or reality, when the whole difficulty was
gratuitous? We grant that there may be
good reasons for what is paradoxical;
but we need the stronger proof that it is
a reality. Yet what in fact is there? And
why should the gift of tongues in Corinth,
as described by Paul, be treated with
more respect than in Newman Street,
London ? I could find no other reply
than that Paul was too sober-minded;
yet his own description of the tongues is
that of a barbaric jargon, which makes
the Church appear as if it “were mad,” and
which is only redeemed from contempt
by miraculous interpretation. In the
Acts we see that this phenomenon per
vaded all the Churches ; from the day of
Pentecost onward it was looked on as
the standard mark of “the descent of
the Holy Spirit ”; and in the conver
sion of Cornelius it was the justification
of Peter for admitting uncircumcised
Gentiles ; yet not once is “ interpreta
tion ” alluded to, except in Paul’s Epistle.
Paul could not go against the whole
Church. He held a logic too much in
common with the rest to denounce
the tongues as mere carnal excitement ;
but he does anxiously degrade them as
of lowest spiritual value, and wholly
prohibits them where there is “no inter
preter ” To carry out this rule would
perhaps have suppressed them entirely.
This, however, showed me that I
could not rest on Paul’s practical
wisdom, as securing him against specu
lative hallucinations in the matter of
miracles; for indeed he says, “ I thank
my God that I speak with tongues more
than ye all.”
2. To another broad fact I had been
astonishingly blind, though the truth of
it flashed upon me as soon as I heard it
named—that Paul shows total unconcern
to the human history and earthly
teaching of Jesus, never quoting his
doctrine or any detail of his actions.
The Christ with whom Paul held com
munion was a risen, ascended, exalted
Lord, a heavenly being, who reigned
over archangels, and was about to
appear as judge of the world; but of
Jesus in the flesh Paul seems to know
nothing beyond the bare fact that he
did1 “ humble himself ” to become man,
and “ pleased not himself.” Even in
the very critical controversy about meat
and drink, Paul omits to quote Christ’s
doctrine, “ Not that which goeth into
the mouth defileth the man,” etc. He
surely, therefore, must have been wholly
and contentedly ignorant of the oral
teachings of Jesus.
3. This threw a new light on the
independent position of Paul. That he
anxiously refused to learn from the other
Apostles, and “ conferred not with flesh
and blood ”—not having received his
gospel of man, but by the revelation of
Jesus Christ—had seemed to me quite
suitable to his high pretensions. Any
novelties which might be in his doctrine
I had regarded as mere developments,
growing out of the common stem, and
guaranteed by the same Spirit. But I
now saw that this independence
invalidated his testimony. He may
be to us a supernatural, but he certainly
is not a natural, witness to the truth of
Christ’s miracles and personality. It
avails not to talk of the opportunities
which he had of searching into the truth
of the resurrection of Christ, for we see
that he did not choose to avail himself
of the common methods of investigation.
He learned his gospel by an internal
revelation.2 He even recounts the
1 Phil. ii. 5-8 ; Rom. xv. 3. The last
suggests it was from the Psalms (viz., from Ps.
lxix. 9) that Paul learned the fact that Christ
pleased not himself.
2 Here, again, I have been erroneously
understood to say that there cannot be any
internal revelation of anything. Internal truth
may be internally communicated, though even
so it does not become authoritative, or justify
the receiver in saying to other men, “Believe,
for I guarantee it.” But a man who, on the
strength of an internal revelation, believes an
external event (past, present, or future) is not
a valid witness of it. Not Paley only, nor
Priestley, but James Martineau also, would
disown his pretence to authority ; and the more
so, the more imperious his claim that we believe
on his word.
�FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
appearance of Christ to him, years after
his ascension, as evidence co-ordinate to
his appearance to Peter and to James,
and to 500 brethren at once (1 Cor. xv.).
Again the thought is forced on us—howdifferent was his logic from ours !
To see the full force of the last
remark we ought to conceive how many
questions a Paley would have wished to
ask of Paul; and how many details
Paley himself, if he had had the sight,
would have felt it his duty to impart to
his readers. Had Paul ever seen Jesus
when alive ? How did he recognise the
miraculous apparition to be the person
whom Pilate had crucified ? Did he see
him as a man in a fleshly body, or as a
glorified heavenly form ? Was it in
waking, or sleeping ; and if the latter,
how did he distinguish his divine vision
from a common dream ? Did he see
only, or did he also handle ? If it was a
palpable man of flesh, how did he assure
himself that it was a person risen from
the dead, and not an ordinary living
man ?
Now, as Paul is writing specially1- to
convince the incredulous or to confirm the
wavering, it is certain that he would
have dwelt on these details if he had
thought them of value to the argument.
As he wholly suppresses them, we must
infer that he held them to be immaterial;
and therefore that the evidence with
which he was satisfied, in proof that a
man was risen from the dead, was either
totally different in kind from that which
we should now exact, or exceedingly
inferior in rigour. It appears that he
believed in the resurrection of Christ
first on the ground of prophecy,1
2
1 This appears in v. 2, “by which ye are
saved—unless ye have believed in vain,” etc. So
v. 17-19.
2 1 Cor. xv. “He rose again the third day
•according to the Scriptures.” This must appa
rently be a reference to Hosea vi. 2, to which
the margin of the Bible refers. There is no
other place in the existing Old Testament from
which we can imagine him to have elicited the
rising on the third day. Some refer to the type
of Jonah. Either of the two suggests how
marvellously weak a proof satisfied him.
91
secondly (I feel it is not harsh or bold
to add) on very loose and wholly
unsifted testimony. For since he does
not afford to us the means of sifting and
analysing his testimony, he cannot have
judged it our duty so to do, and there
fore is not likely himself to have sifted
very narrowly the testimony of others.
Conceive farther how a Paley would
have dealt with so astounding a fact, so
crushing an argument, as the appearance
of the risen Jesus to poo brethren at once.
How would he have extravagated and
revelled in proof ! How would he have
worked the topic, that “ this could have
been no dream, no internal impression,
no vain fancy, but a solid, indubitable
fact ” ! How he would have quoted his
authorities, detailed their testimonies,
and given their names and characters !
Yet Paul dispatches the affair in one
line, gives no details and no special
declarations, and seems to see no greater
weight in this decisive appearance than
in the vision to his single self. He
expects us to take his very vague
announcement of the 500 brethren as
enough, and it does not seem to occur
to him that his readers (if they need
to be convinced) are entitled to expect
fuller information. Thus, if Paul does
not intentionally supersede human testi
mony, he reduces it to its minimum of
importance.
How can I believe at second hand,
from the word of one whom I discern to
hold so lax notions of evidence? Yet
who of the Christian teachers was
superior to Paul? He is regarded as
almost the only educated man of the
leaders. Of his activity of mind, his
moral sobriety, his practical talents, his
profound sincerity, his enthusiastic selfdevotion, his spiritual insight, there is no
question ; but when his notions of
evidence are infected with the errors of
his age, what else can we expect of the
eleven, and of the multitude ?
4. Paul’s neglect of the earthly teach
ing of Jesus might in part be imputed
to the non-existence of written docu
ments and the great difficulty of learning
�92
FAITH AT SECOND HAND FOUND TO BE VAIN
with certainty what he really had taught. miracles on the authority of words
This agreed perfectly well with what I quoted from a man whom we cannot
already saw of the untrustworthiness of cross-examine ! Thus, once more, John
our Gospels, but it opened a chasm is left alone in his testimony, and how
between the doctrine of Jesus and that insufficient that is has been said.
of Paul, and showed that Paulinism,
The question also arose whether
however good in itself, is not assuredly Peter’s testimony to the transfiguration
to be identified with primitive Chris (2 Pet. i. 18) was an important support.
tianity. Moreover, it became clear why A first objection might be drawn from
James and Paul are so contrasted. the sleep ascribed to the three disciples
James retains with little change the in the Gospels, if the narrative were at
traditionary doctrine of the Jerusalem all trustworthy. But a second and
Christians; Paul has superadded or greater difficulty arises in the doubtful
substituted a gospel of his own. This authenticity of the second Epistle of
was, I believe, pointedly maintained Peter.
twenty-five years ago by the author of
Neander positively decides against that
Not Paul, but Jesus, a book which I Epistle. Among many reasons, the simi
have never read.
larity of its second chapter to the Epistle
VII. I had now to ask : Where are of Jude is a cardinal fact. Jude is sup
the twelve men of whom Paley talks as posed to be original, yet his allusions
testifying to the resurrection of Christ ? show him to be post-Apostolic. If so,
Paul cannot be quoted as a witness, but the second Epistle of Peter is clearly
only as a believer. Of the twelve we do spurious. Whether this was certain I
not even know the names, much less could not make up my mind ; but it was
have we their testimony. Of James and manifest that where such doubts may be
Jude there are two Epistles, but it is honestly entertained no basis exists to
doubtful whether either of these is of found a belief of a great and significant
the Twelve Apostles, and neither of miracle.
On the other hand, both the trans
them declares himself an eye-witness to
Christ’s resurrection. In short, Peter figuration itself and the fiery destruction
and John are the only two. Of these, of heaven and earth prophesied in the
however, Peter does not attest the third chapter of this Epistle are open to
bodily, but only the spiritual, resurrection objections so serious as mythical imagi
of Jesus, for he says that Christ was1 nations that the name of Peter will hardly
“ put to death in flesh, but made alive guarantee them to those with whom the
in spirit” (i Pet. iii. 18), yet if this verse general evidence for the miracles in the
had been lost his opening address (i. 3) Gospels has thoroughly broken down.
On the whole, one thing only was clear
would have seduced me into the belief
that Peter taught the bodily resurrection concerning Peter’s faith—that he, like
of Jesus. So dangerous is it to believe Paul, was satisfied with a kind of
evidence for the resurrection of Jesus
which fell exceedingly short of the
1 Such is the most legitimate translation.
That in the received version is barely a possible demands of modem logic, and that it is
meaning. There is no such distinction of prepo absurd in us to believe barely because
sitions as in and by in this passage.
they believed.
�HlSTORY DISCOVERED TO BE NO PART OF RELIGION
93
Chapter VI.
HISTORY DISCOVERED TO BE NO PART OF RELIGION
After renouncing any “Canon of Scrip
ture ” or Sacred Letter at the end of my
Fourth Period, I had been forced to
abandon all “second-hand faith” by the
end of my fifth. If asked why I believed
this or that, I could no longer say,
'‘'‘Because Peter, or Paul, or John
believed, and I may thoroughly trust
that they cannot mistake.” The ques
tion now pressed hard, whether this was
equivalent to renouncing Christianity.
Undoubtedly my positive belief in its
miracles had evaporated, but I had not
arrived at a positive zZAbelief. I still
felt the actual benefits and comparative
excellences of this religion too remark
able a phenomenon to be scorned for
defect of proof. In morals, likewise, it
happens that the ablest practical ex
pounders of truth may make strange
blunders as to the foundations and
ground of belief. Why was this impos
sible as to the Apostles ? Meanwhile it
did begin to appear to myself remark
able that I continued to love and have
pleasure in so much that I certainly dis
believed. I perused a chapter of Paul
or of Luke, or some verses of a hymn,
and, although they appeared to me to
abound with error, I found satisfaction
and profit in them. Why was this ?
Was it all fond prejudice—an absurd
clinging to old associations ?
A little self-examination enabled me
to reply that it was no ill-grounded
feeling or ghost of past opinions, but
that my religion always had been, and
still was, a state of sentiment towards God,
far less dependent on articles of a creed
than once I had unhesitatingly believed.
The Bible is pervaded by a sentiment,1
1 A critic presses me with the question, how I
can doubt that doctrine so holy conies from God.
which is implied everywhere—viz., the
intimate sympathy of the pure and perfect
God with the heart of each faithful wor
shipper. This is that which is wanting
in Greek philosophers, English Deists,
German Pantheists, and all formalists.
This is that which so often edifies me in
Christian writers and speakers, when I
ever so much disbelieve the letter of
their sentences. Accordingly, though I
saw more and more of moral and spiritual
imperfection in the Bible, I by no means
ceased to regard it as a quarry whence I
might dig precious metal, though the
ore needed a refining analysis; and I
regarded this as the truest essence and
most vital point in Christianity—to
sympathise with the great souls from
whom its spiritual eminence has flowed ;
to love, to hope, to rejoice, to trust with
them; and not to form the same inter
pretations of an ancient book and to
take the same views of critical argument.
My historical conception of Jesus had
so gradually melted into dimness that he
had receded out of my practical religion,
I knew not exactly when. I believe
that I must have disused any distinct
prayers to him from a growing opinion
that he ought not to be the object of
worship, but only the way by whom we
approach to the Father; and as, in fact,
we need no such “way ” at all, this was
(in the result) a change from practical
Ditheism to pure Theism. His “media
tion ” was to me always a mere name,
lie professes to review my book on The Soul;
yet, apparently, because he himself <7zjbelieves
the doctrine of the Holy Spirit taught alike in
the Psalms and Prophets, and in the New Testa
ment, he cannot help forgetting that I profess to
believe it. He is not singular in his dulness.
That the sentiment above is necessarily inde
pendent of Biblical authority, see p. 98-
�94
HISTORY DISCOVERED TO BE NO PART OF RELIGION
and, as I believe, would otherwise have
been mischievous.1 Simultaneously a
great uncertainty had grown on me,
how much of the discourses put into the
mouth of Jesus was really uttered by
him; so that I had in no small measure
to form him anew to my imagination.
But if religion is addressed to, and
must be judged by, our moral faculties,
how could I believe in that painful and
gratuitous personality, the devil? He
also had become a waning phantom to
me, perhaps from the time that I saw the
demoniacal miracles to be fictions, and
still more when proofs of manifold mis
takes in the New Testament rose on me.
This, however, took a solid form of
positive YAbelief when I investigated
the history of the doctrine—I forget
exactly in what stage. For it is manifest
that the old Hebrews believed only in
evil spirits sent by God to do his bidding,
and had no idea of a rebellious spirit
that rivalled God. That idea was first
imbibed in the Babylonish captivity,
and apparently, therefore, must have
been adopted from the Persian Ahriman,
or from the “ Melek Taous,” the
“Sheitan,” still honoured by the Yezidi
with mysterious fear. That the serpent
in the early part of Genesis denoted the
same Satan is probable enough ; but this
only goes to show that that narrative is
a legend imported from farther East,
since it is certain that the subsequent
Hebrew literature has no trace of such
an Ahriman. The book of Tobit and
its demon show how wise in these matters
the exiles in Nineveh were beginning to
be. The book of Daniel manifests that
by the time of Antiochus Epiphanes the
Jews had learned each nation to have its
guardian spirit, good or evil, and that
the fates of nations depend on the
invisible conflict of these tutelary powers.
In Paul the same idea is strongly brought
out. Satan is the prince of the power
of the air, with principalities and powers
1 I do not here enlarge on this, as it is discussed
in my treatise on The Soul, second edition, p. 76,
or third edition, p. 52.
beneath him, over all of whom Christ
won the victory on his cross. In the
Apocalypse we read the Oriental doctrine
of the “seven angels who stand before
God.” As the Christian tenet thus rose
among the Jews from their contact with
Eastern superstition, and was propagated
and expanded while prophecy was mute,
it cannot be ascribed to “ divine super
natural revelation ” as the source. The
ground of it is clearly seen in infant
speculations on the cause of moral evil
and of national calamities.
Thus Christ and the devil, the two
poles of Christendom, had faded away
out of my spiritual vision; there were
left the more vividly God and man.
Yet I had not finally renounced the
possibility that Jesus might have had a
divine mission to stimulate all our
spiritual faculties, and to guarantee to
us a future state of existence. The
abstract arguments for the immortality
of the soul had always appeared to me
vain trifling, and I was deeply convinced
that nothing could assure us of a future
state but a divine communication. In
what mode this might be made I could
not say a priori. Might not this really
be the great purport of Messiahship ?
Was not this, if any, a worthy ground for
a divine interference ? On the contrary,
to heal the sick did not seem at all an
adequate motive for a miracle j else why
not the sick of our own day ? Credulity
had exaggerated, and had represented
Jesus to have wrought miracles ; but that
did not wholly r/Aprove the miracle of
resurrection (whether bodily or of what
ever kind) said to have been wrought
by God upon him, and of which so very
intense a belief so remarkably propagated
itself. Paul, indeed, believed it1 from
prophecy; and, as we see this to be a
delusion resting on Rabbinical interpre
tations, we may perhaps account thus for
the belief of the early Church, without
in any way admitting the fact. Here,
however, I found I had the clue to my
1 I Cor. xv. 3. Compare Acts xiii. 33, 34, 35 ;
also Acts ii. 27, 34.
�HISTORY DISCOVERED TO BE NO PART OE RELIGION
only remaining discussion—the primitive
Jewish controversy. Let us step back
to an earlier stage than John’s or Paul’s
or Peter’s doctrine. We cannot doubt
that Jesus claimed to be Messiah. What,
then, was Messiah to be? And did Jesus
(though misrepresented by his disciples)
truly fulfil his own claims ?
The really Messianic prophecies
appeared to me to be far fewer than
is commonly supposed. I found such
in the 9th and nth of Isaiah, the 5th
of Micah, the 9th of Zechariah, in the
72nd Psalm, in the 37th of Ezekiel, and,
as I supposed, in the 50th and 53rd of
Isaiah. To these nothing of moment
could be certainly added, for the passage
in Dan. ix. is ill-translated in the English
version, and I had already concluded
that the book of Daniel is a spurious
fabrication. From Micah and Ezekiel it
appeared that Messiah was to come from
Bethlehem, and either be David himself
or a spiritual David; from Isaiah it is
shown that he is a rod out of the stem
of Jesse. It is true I found no proof
that Jesus did come from Bethlehem or
from the stock of David, for the tales in
Matthew and Luke refute one another,
and have clearly been generated by a
desire to verify the prophecy. But
genealogies for or against Messiahship
seemed to me a mean argument, and
the fact of the prophets demanding a
carnal descent in Messiah struck me as
a worse objection than that Jesus had
not got it—if this could be ever proved.
The Messiah of Micah, however, was not
Jesus ; for he was to deliver Israel from
the Assyrians, and his whole description
is literally warlike. Micah, writing when
the name of Sennacherib was terrible,
conceived of a powerful monarch on the
throne of David who was to subdue
him; but as this prophecy was not
verified, the imaginary object of it was
looked for as “ Messiah ” even after the
disappearance of the formidable Assyrian
power. This undeniable vanity of Micah’s
prophecy extends itself also to that in
the 9th chapter of his contemporary
Isaiah—if, indeed, that splendid passage |
95
did not really point at the child Hezekiah.
Waiving this doubt, it is at any rate clear
that the marvellous child on the throne
of David was to break the yoke of the
oppressive Assyrian, and none of the
circumstantials are at all appropriate to
the historical Jesus.
In the 37th of Ezekiel the (new)
David is to gather Judah and Israel
“from the heathen whither they be
gone,” and to “ make them one nation
in the land, on the mountains of Israel” ;
and Jehovah adds that they “ shall dwell
in the land which I gave unto Jacob my
servant, wherein your fathers dwelt; and
they shall dwell therein, they and their
children and their children’s children
for ever; and my servant David shall
be their prince for ever.” It is trifling
to pretend that the land promised toJacob,
and in which the old Jews dwelt, was a
spiritual, and not the literal Palestine ;
and, therefore, it is impossible to make
out that Jesus has fulfilled any part of
this representation. The description,
however, that follows (Ezekiel xl., etc.)
of the new city and temple, with the
sacrifices offered by “ the priests the
Levites, of the seed of Zadok,” and the
gate of the sanctuary for the prince
(xliv. 3), and his elaborate account of
the borders of the land (xlviii. 13-23),
place the earnestness of Ezekiel’s literal
ism in still clearer light.
The 72nd Psalm, by the splendour of
its predictions concerning the grandeur
of some future king of Judah, earns the
title of Messianic because it was never
fulfilled by any historical king. But it
is equally certain that it has had no
appreciable fulfilment in Jesus.
But what of the nth of Isaiah? Its
portraiture is not so much that of a king
as of a prophet endowed with superhuman
power. “ He shall smite the earth with
the rod of his mouth, and with the
breath of his lips he shall slay the
wicked.” A Paradisiacal state is to
follow. This general description .may
be verified by Jesus hereafter; but we
have no manifestation which enables us
to call the fulfilment a fact. Indeed, the
�96
HISTORY DISCOVERED TO BE NO PA'RT OF RELIGION
latter part of the prophecy is out of self to the lowly king here described.
place for a time so late as the reign of Yet such an isolated act is surely a
Augustus, which forcibly denotes that carnal and beggarly fulfilment. To ride
Isaiah was predicting only that which on an ass is no mark of humility in those
was his immediate political aspiration; who must ordinarily go on foot. The
for, in this great day of Messiah, Jehovah prophet clearly means that the righteous
is to gather back his dispersed people king is not to ride on a warhorse and
from Assyria, Egypt, and other parts ; trust in cavalry, as Solomon and the
he is to reconcile Judah and Ephraim Egyptians (see Ps. xx. 7 ; Is. xxxi. 1-3,
(who had been perfectly reconciled xxx. 16), but is to imitate the lowliness
centuries before Jesus was born), and, of David and the old judges, who rode
as a result of this Messianic glory, the on young asses; and is to be a lover of
people of Israel “shall fly upon the peace.
shoulders of the Philistines towards the
Chapters fifty and fifty-three of the
west; they shall spoil them of the east pseudo-Isaiah remained, which contain
together; they shall lay their hand on many phases so aptly descriptive of the
Edom and Moab, and the children of sufferings of Christ, and so closely knit
Ammon shall obey them.” But Philis up with our earliest devotional associa
tines, Moab and Ammon, were distinc tions, that they were the very last link of
tions entirely lost before the Christian my chain that snapped. Still, I could
era. Finally, the Red Sea is to be once not conceal from myself that no exact
more passed miraculously by the Israelites, ness in this prophecy, however singular,
returning (as would seem) to their fathers’ could avail to make out that Jesus was
soil. Take all these particulars together, the Messiah of Hezekiah’s prophets.
and the prophecy is neither fulfilled in There must be some explanation ; and
the past nor possible to be fulfilled in if I did not see it, that must probably
the future.
arise from prejudice and habit. In
The prophecy which we know as order, therefore, to gain freshness, I
Zechariah ix.-xi. is believed to be really resolved to peruse the entire prophecy
from a prophet of uncertain name, con of the pseudo-Isaiah in Lowth’s version,
temporaneous with Isaiah. It was written from ch. xl. onwards, at a single sitting.
while Ephraim was still a people—i.e.,
This prophet writes from Babylon,
before the capture of Samaria by Shal- and has his vision full of the approach
manezer—and xi. 1-3 appears to howl ing restoration of his people by Cyrus,
over the recent devastations of Tiglath- whom he addresses by name. In ch.
pilezer. The prophecy is throughout xliii. he introduces to us an eminent
full of the politics of that day. No part and “chosen servant of God,” whom he
of it has the most remote or imaginable1 invests with all the evangelical virtues,
similarity to the historical life of Jesus, and declares that he is to be a light to
except that he once rode into Jerusalem the Gentiles. In ch. xliv. (v. 1, also
on an ass—a deed which cannot have v. 21) he is named as ‘ Jacob my servant,
been peculiar to him, and which Jesus and Israel whom I have chosen.” The
moreover appears to have planned with appellations recur in xlv. 4; and in a
the express1 purpose of assimilating him- far more striking passage, xlix. 1-12,
2
which is eminently Messianic to the
1 I need not except the potter and the thirty Christian ear, except that in v. 3 the
pieces of silver (Zech. xi. 13), for the potter is a
mere absurd error of text or translation. The
Septuagint has the foundry, De Wette has the
treasury, with whom Ditzig and Ewald agree.
So Winer. (Simoni’s Lexicon.)
2 Some of my critics are very angry with me
for saying this ; but Matthew himself (xxi. 4)
almost says it : “All this was done, that it might
be fulfilled,” etc. Do my critics mean to tell
me that Jesus was not aware of the prophecy?
Or, if Jesus did know of the prophecy, will they
tell me that he was not designing to fulfil it ? I
feel such carping to be little short of hypocrisy.
�HISTORY DISCOVERED TO BE NO PART OF RELIGION
speaker distinctly declares himself to be
not Messiah, but Israel. The same
speaker continues in ch. 1., which is
-equally Messianic in sound. In ch. lii.
the prophet speaks of him (vv. 13-15);
but the subject of the chapter is restora
tion from Babylon, and from this he
runs on into the celebrated ch. liii.
It is essential to understand the same
“ elect servant ” all along. He is many
times called Israel, and is often addressed
in a tone quite inapplicable to Messiah
—viz., as one needing salvation himself;
so in ch. xliii. Yet in ch. xlix. this elect
Israel is distinguished from Jacob and
Israel at large; thus there is an en
tanglement. Who can be called on to
risk his eternal hopes on his skilful un
knotting of it ? It appeared, however,
to me most probable that, as our High
Churchmen distinguish “motherChurch”
from the individuals who compose the
Church, so the “Israel” of this prophecy
is the idealising of the Jewish Church,
which I understood to be a current
Jewish interpretation. The figure per
haps embarrasses us only because of
the male sex attributed to the ideal
servant of God; for, when “Zion” is
spoken of by the same prophet in the
same way, no one finds difficulty, or
imagines that a female person of super
human birth and qualities must be in
tended.
It still remained strange that in Isaiah
liii. and Psalms xxii. and lxix. there
should be coincidences so close with the
sufferings of Jesus; but I reflected that
I had no proof that the narrative had
not been strained by credulity1 to bring
it into artificial agreement with these
imagined predictions of his death. And
herewith my last argument in favour of
views for which I once would have laid
down my life seemed to be spent.
1 Apparently on these words of mine, a
reviewer builds up the inference that I regard
“ the Evangelical narrative as a mythical fancy
piece imitated from David and Isaiah.” I feel
this to be a great caricature. My words are
carefully limited to a few petty details of one
part of the narrative.
97
Nor only so, but I now reflected that the
falsity of the prophecy in Dan. vii. (where •
the coming of “ a Son of Man ” to sit in
universal judgment follows immediately
upon the break-up of the Syrian mon
archy)—to say nothing of the general
proof of the spuriousness of the whole
Book of Daniel—ought perhaps long ago
to have been seen by me as of more
cardinal importance. For, if we believe
anything at all about the discourses of
Christ, we cannot doubt that he selected
“Son of Man” as his favourite title,
which admits no interpretation so satis
factory as that he tacitly refers to the
seventh chapter of Daniel, and virtually
bases his pretensions upon it. On the
whole, it was no longer defect of proof
which presented itself, but positive dis
proof of the primitive and- fundamental
claim.
I could not for a moment allow weight
to the topic that “it is dangerous to disbelieve wrongly,” for I felt, and had
always felt, that it gave a premium to
the most boastful and tyrannising super
stition, as if it were not equally dangerous
to believe wrongly I Nevertheless, I tried
to plead for farther delay, by asking:
Is not the subject too vast for me to
decide upon ? Think how- many wise
and good men have fully examined, and
have come to a contrary conclusion.
What a grasp of knowledge and experi
ence of the human mind it requires I.
Perhaps, too, I have unawares been
carried away by a love of novelty, which
I have mistaken for a love of truth.
But the argument recoiled upon me.
Have I not been twenty-five years a
reader of the Bible? Have I not full
eighteen years been a student of theo
logy? Have I not employed seven of
the best years of my life, with ample
leisure, in this very investigation—with
out any intelligible earthly bribe to carry
me to my present conclusion, against all
my interests, all my prejudices, and all
my education? There are many far
more learned than I—many men of
greater power of mind—but there are
also a hundred times as many who are
E
�a?
HISTORY DISCOVERED TO BE NO PART OF RELIGION
my inferiors; and, if I have been seven
years labouring in vain to solve this vast
literary problem, it is an extreme absur
dity to imagine that the solving of it is
imposed by God on the whole human
race. Let me renounce my little learn
ing ; let me be as the poor and simple:
what then follows ? Why, then, still the
same thing follows, that difficult literary
problems concerning distant history can
not afford any essential part of my reli
gion. _
It is with hundreds or thousands a
favourite idea that “ they have an inward
witness of the truth of (the historical and
outward facts of) Christianity.” Per
haps the statement would bring its own
refutation to them if they would express
it clearly. Suppose a biographer of Sir
Isaac Newton, after narrating his sublime
discoveries and ably stating some of his
most remarkable doctrines, to add that
Sir Isaac was a great magician, and had
been used to raise spirits by his arts, and
finally was himself carried up to heaven
one night while gazing at the moon, and
that this event had been foretold by
Merlin—it would surely be the height
of absurdity to dilate on the truth of the
Newtonian theory as “ the moral evi
dence ” of the truth of the miracles and
prophecy. Yet this is what those do
who adduce the excellence of the pre
cepts and spirituality of the general doc
trine of the New Testament as the “moral
evidence ” of its miracles, and of its
fulfilling the Messianic prophecies. But
for the ambiguity of the word doctrine,
probably such confusion of thought
would have been impossible. “ Doc
trines ” are either spiritual truths or are
statements of external history. Of the
former we may have an inward witness
—that is their proper evidence ; but the
latter must depend upon adequate testi
mony and various kinds of criticism.
truth had been pressed upon me, that
since the religious faculties of the poor
and half-educated cannot investigate
historical and literary questions, there
fore these questions cannot constitute an
essential part of religion ! But perhaps
I could not have gained this result by
any abstract act of thought, from want of
freedom to think ; and there are advan
tages also in expanding slowly under
great pressure, if one can expand and is
not crushed by it.
I felt no convulsion of mind, no
emptiness of soul, no inward, practical
change; but I knew that it would be
said this was only because the force of
the old influence was as yet unspent, and
that a gradual declension in the vitality
of my religion must ensue. More than
eight years have since passed, and I feel I
have now a right to contradict that state
ment. To any “ Evangelical ” I have a
right to say that, while he has a single, I
have a double experience ; and I know
that the spiritual fruits which he values
have no connection whatever with the
complicated and elaborate creed which
his school imagines, and I once imagined,
to be the roots out of which they are
fed. That they depend directly on the
hearts belief in the sympathy of God with
individual man1 I am well assured ; but
that doctrine does not rest upon the
Bible or upon Christianity, for it is a
postulate from which every Christian
advocate is forced to start. If it be
denied, he cannot take a step forward in
his argument. He talks to men about
sin and judgment to come, and the need
of salvation, and so proceeds to the
Saviour. But his very first step—the
idea of sin—assumes that God concerns
himself with our actions, words, thoughts;
assumes, therefore, that sympathy of God
with every man which, it seems, can only
be known by an infallible Bible.
I know that many Evangelicals will
How quickly might I have come to
my conclusion — how much weary
thought and useless labour might I have
spared—if at an earlier time this simple
1 I did not calculate that any assailant would
be so absurd as to lecture me on the topic that
God has no sympathy with our sins and follies.
Of course, what I mean is that he has compla
cency in our moral perfection. See p. 93 above.
�HISTORY DISCOVERED TO BE NO PART OE RELIGION
reply that I never can have had “the
true ” faith, else I could never have lost
it; and as for my not being conscious of
spiritual change, they will accept this as
confirming their assertion. Undoubtedly
I cannot prove that I ever felt as they
now feel; perhaps they love their present
opinions more than truth, and are care
less to examine and verify them : with
that I claim no fellowship. But there are
Christians—and Evangelical Christians
—of another stamp, who love their creed
only because they believe it to be true,
but love truth, as such, and truthfulness,
more than any creed : with these I claim
fellowship. Their love to God and man,
their allegiance to righteousness and true
holiness will not' be in suspense, and
liable to be overturned by new dis
coveries in geology and in ancient inscrip
tions, or by improved criticism of texts
and of history, nor have they any imagin
able interest in thwarting the advance of
scholarship. It is strange, indeed, to
undervalue that faith, which alone is
purely moral and spiritual, alone rests on
a basis that cannot be shaken, alone lifts
the possessor above the conflicts of
erudition, and makes it impossible for
him to fear the increase of knowledge.
I fully expected that reviewers and
opponents from the Evangelical school
would laboriously insinuate or assert that
I never was a Christian, and do not
understand anything about Christianity
spiritually. My expectations have been
more than fulfilled; and the course
which my assailants have taken leads me
to add some topics to the last paragraph.
I say, then, that if I had been slain at
the age of twenty-seven, when I was
chased1 by a mob of infuriated Mussul
mans for selling New Testaments, they
would have trumpeted me as an eminent
saint and martyr. I add that many
circumstances within easy possibility
might have led to my being engaged as
1 This was at Aintab, in the north of Syria.
One of my companions was caught by the mob,
and beaten (as they probably thought) to death.
But he recovered very similarly to Paul, in
Acts xiv. 20, after long lying senseless.
99
an official teacher of a congregation at
the usual age, which would in all proba
bility have arrested my intellectual
development, and have stereotyped my
creed for many a long year; and then
also they would have acknowledged me
as a Christian. A little more stupidity,
a little more worldliness, a little more
mental dishonesty in me, or perhaps a
little more kindness and management in
others, would have kept me in my old
state, which was acknowledged and
would still be acknowledged as Christian.
To try to disown me now is an impotent
superciliousness.
At the same time I confess to several
moral changes as the result of this change
in my creed, the principal of which are
the following:—
i. I have found that my old belief
narrowed my affections.
It taught me to bestow peculiar love
on “the people of God,” and it assigned
an intellectual creed as one essential
mark of this people. That creed may
be made more or less stringent; but
when driven to its minimum it includes
a recognition of the historical proposition
that “ the Jewish teacher Jesus fulfilled
the conditions requisite to constitute
him the Messiah of the ancient Hebrew
prophets.” This proposition has been
rejected by very many thoughtful and
sincere men in England, and by tens of
thousands in France, Germany, Italy,
Spain. To judge rightly about it is
necessarily a problem of literary criticism,
which has both to interpret the Old
Scriptures and to establish how much of
the biography of Jesus in the New is
credible. To judge wrongly about it
may prove one to be a bad critic, but
not a less good and less pious man.
Yet my old creed enacted an affirmative
result of this historical inquiry as a test
of one’s spiritual state, and ordered me
to think harshly of men like Marcus
Aurelius and Lessing, because they did
not adopt the conclusion which the
professedly uncritical have established.
It possessed me with a general gloom
concerning Mohammedans and Pagans,
�IOO
HISTORY DISCOVERED TO BE NO PART OB' RELIGION
and involved the whole course of history
and prospects of futurity in a painful
darkness from which I am relieved.
2. Its theory was one of selfishness.
That is, it inculcated that my first
business must be to save my soul from
future punishment, arid to attain future
happiness, and it bade me to chide
myself when I thought of nothing but
about doing present duty and blessing
God for present enjoyment.
In point of fact, I never did look
much to futurity, nor even in prospect of
death could attain to any vivid anticipa
tions or desires, much less was troubled
with fears. The evil which I suffered
from my theory was not (I believe) that
it really made me selfish—other influences
of it were too powerful—but it taught
me to blame myself for unbelief, because
I was not sufficiently absorbed in the
contemplation of my vast personal
expectations. I certainly here feel
myself delivered from the danger of
factitious sin.
The selfish and self-righteous texts
come principally from the first three
Gospels, and are greatly counteracted by
the deeper spirituality of the Apostolic
Epistles. I therefore by no means
charge this tendency indiscriminately on
the New Testament.
3. It laid down that “ the time is
short; the Lord is at hand: the things
of this world pass away, and deserve not
our affections; the only thing worth
spending one’s energies on is the
forwarding of men’s salvation.” It bade
me “watch perpetually, not knowing
whether my Lord would return at cock
crowing or at midday.”
While I believed this (which, however
disagreeable to modern Christians, is the
clear doctrine of the New Testament) I
acted an eccentric and unprofitable part.
From it I was saved against my will, and
forced into a course in which the
doctrine, having been laid to sleep,
awoke only now and then to reproach
and harass me for my unfaithfulness to
it. This doctrine it is which. makes so
many spiritual persons lend active or
passive aid to uphold abuses and
perpetuate mischief in every depart
ment of human life. Those vho stick
closest to the Scripture do not shrink
from saying that “it is not worth while
trying to mend the world,” and stigmatise
as “ political and worldly ” such as
pursue an opposite course. Undoubtedly,
if we are to expect our Master at cock
crowing, we shall not study the permanent
improvement of this transitory scene.
To teach the certain speedy destruction
of earthly things, as the New Testament
does, is to cut the sinews of all earthly
progress, to declare war against intellect
and imagination, against industrial and
social advancement.
There was a time wh'fen I was distressed
at being unable to avoid exultation in the
worldly greatness of England. My heart
would, in spite of me, swell with some
thing of pride when a Turk or Arab
asked what was my country; I then
used to confess to God this pride as a
sin. I still see that that was a legitimate
deduction from the Scripture. “The
glory of this world passeth away,” and I
had professed to be “ dead with Christ ”
to it. The difference is this. I am now
as “ dead ” as then to all of it which my
conscience discerns to be sinful, but I
have not to torment myself in a (funda
mentally ascetic) struggle against innocent
and healthy impulses. I now, with
deliberate approval, “ love the world and
the things of the world.” I can feel
patriotism, and take the deepest interest
in the future prospects of nations, and
no longer reproach myself. Yet this is
quite consistent with feeling the spiritual
interests of men to be of all incomparably
the highest.
Modern religionists profess to be
disciples of Christ, and talk high of the
perfect morality of the New Testament,
when they certainly do not submit their
understanding to it, and are no more
like to the first disciples than bishops
are like the penniless Apostles. One
critic tells me that I know that the
above is not the true interpretation of
the Apostolic doctrine. Assuredly I am
�HISTORY DISCOVERED TG BE NO PART OF RELIGION
aware that we may rebuke “ the world ”
and “ worldliness,” in a legitimate and
modified sense, as being the system of
selfishness. True, and I have avowed this
in another work ; but it does not follow
that Jesus and the Apostles did not go
farther, and manifestly they did. The
true disciple, who would be perfect as
his Master, was indeed ordered to sell
all, give to the poor and follow him; and
when that severity was relaxed by good
sense it was still taught that things
which lasted to the other side of the
grave alone deserved our affection or
our exertion. If any person thinks me
ignorant of the Scriptures for being of
this judgment, let him so think; but to
deny that I am sincere in my avowal is
a very needless insolence.
4. I am sensible how heavy a clog on
the exercise of my judgment has been
taken off from me since I unlearned that
Bibliolatry, which I am disposed to call
the greatest religious evil of England.
Authority has a place in religious
teaching, as in education, but it is
provisional and transitory. Its chief
use is to guide action, and assist the
formation of habits, before the judgment
is ripe. As applied to mere opinion, its
sole function is to guide inquiry. So
long as an opinion is received on
authority only, it works no inward
process upon us; yet the promulgation
of it by authority is not therefore always
useless, since the prominence thus given
to it may be a most important stimulus
to thought. While the mind is inactive
or weak it will not wish to throw off the
yoke of authority, but as soon as it
begins to discern error in the standard
proposed to it we have the mark of
incipient original thought, which is the
thing so valuable and so difficult to
elicit, and which authority is apt to
crush. An intelligent pupil seldom or
never gives too little weight to the
opinion of his teacher; a wise teacher
will never repress the free action of his
pupils’ minds, even when they begin to
question his results. “ Forbidding to
think ” is a still more fatal tyranny than
IOI
“ forbidding to marry ”—it paralyses all
the moral powers.
In former days, if any moral question
came before me, I was always apt to
turn it into the mere lawyerlike exercise
of searching and interpreting my written
code. Thus, in reading how Henry the
Eighth treated his first queen, I thought
over Scripture texts in order to judge
whether he was right, and if I could so
get a solution I left my own moral
powers unexercised. All Protestants see
how mischievous it is to a Romanist
lady to have a directing priest whom she
every day consults about everything, so
as to lay her own judgment to sleep.
We readily understand that in the
extreme case such women may gradually
lose all perception of right and wrong,
and become a mere machine in the
hands of her director. But the Protestant
principle of accepting the Bible as the
absolute law acts towards the same end,
and only fails of doing the same amount
of mischief because a book can never so
completely answer all the questions
asked of it as a living priest can. The
Protestantism which pities those as
“ without chart and compass ” who
acknowledge no infallible written code
can mean nothing else than that “the
less occasion we have to trust our moral
powers the better —that is, it represents
it as of all things most desirable to be
able to benumb conscience by disuse,
under the guidance of a mind from
without. Those who teach this need
not marvel to see their pupils become
Romanists.
But Bibliolatry not only paralyses the
moral sense, it also corrupts the intellect
and introduces a crooked logic by
setting men to the duty of extracting
absolute harmony out of discordant
materials. All are familiar with the
subtlety of lawyers, whose task it is to
elicit a single sense out of a heap of
contradictory statutes. In their case
such subtlety may indeed excite in us
impatience or contempt, but we forbear
to condemn them when it is pleaded
that practical convenience, not truth, is
�102
ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
their avowed end. In the case of
theological ingenuity, where truth is the
professed and sacred object, a graver
judgment is called for. When the
Biblical interpreter struggles to reconcile
contradictions, or to prove that wrong is
right, merely because he is bound to
maintain the perfection of the Bible ;
when to this end he condescends to
sophistry and pettifogging evasions, it is
difficult to avoid feeling disgust as well
as grief. Some good people are secretly
conscious that the Bible is not an
infallible book, but they dread the
consequences of proclaiming this “to
the vulgar.” Alas! and have they
measured the evils which the fostering
of this lie is producing in the minds, not
of the educated only, but emphatically
of the ministers of religion ?
Many who call themselves Christian
preachers busily undermine moral senti
ment by telling their hearers that if they
do not believe the Bible (or the Church)
they can have no firm religion or
morality, and will have no reason to give
against following brutal appetite. This
doctrine it is that so often makes men
Atheists in Spain, and profligates in
England, as soon as they unlearn the
national creed; and the school which
have done the mischief moralise over
the wickedness of human nature when it
comes to pass, instead of blaming the
falsehood which they have themselves
' inculcated.
Chapter VII.
ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
Let no reader peruse this chapter who
is not willing to enter into a discussion
as free and unshrinking, concerning the
personal excellences and conduct of
Jesus, as that of Mr. Grote concerning
Socrates. I have hitherto met with most
absurd rebuffs for my scrupulosity. One
critic names me as a principal leader in
a school which extols and glorifies the
character of Jesus; after which he
proceeds to reproach me with inconsis
tency, and to insinuate dishonesty.
Another expresses himself as deeply
wounded that, in renouncing the belief
that Jesus is more than man, I suggest
to compare him to a clergyman whom I
mentioned as eminently holy and perfect
in the picture of a partial biographer.
Such a comparison is resented with vivid
indignation, as a blurting out of some
thing “ unspeakably painful.”
Many
have murmured that I do not come
forward to extol the excellences of Jesus,
but appear to prefer Paul. More than
one taunt me with an inability to justify
my insinuations that Jesus, after all, was
not really perfect; one is “ extremely
disappointed ” that I have not attacked
him ; in short, it is manifest that many
would much rather have me say out my
whole heart than withhold anything. I
therefore give fair warning to all not to read
any further, or else to blame themselves
if I inflict on them “ unspeakable pain ”
by differing from their judgment of a
historical or unhistorical character. As
for those who confound my tenderness
with hypocrisy and conscious weakness,
if they trust themselves to read to the
end, I think they will abandon that
fancy.
But how am I brought into this topic?
It is because, after my mind had reached
the stage narrated in the last chapter, I
�ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
103
fell in with a new doctrine among the Jesus ; in particular, he misinterpreted
Unitarians—that the evidence of Chris the Hebrew prophecies. “ He was not
tianity is essentially popular and spiritual, less than the Hebrew Messiah, but more?'
consisting in the life of Christ, who is a No moral charge is established against
perfect man and the absolute moral him until it is shown that in applying
image of God—therefore fitly called “God the old prophecies to himself he was
manifest in the flesh,” and, as such, conscious that they did not fit. His error
moral head of the human race. Since was one of mere fallibility in matters of
this view was held in conjunction with intellectual and literary estimate. On
those at which I had arrived myself con the other hand, Jesus had an infallible
cerning miracles, prophecy, the untrust moral perception, which reveals itself to
worthiness of Scripture as to details, and the true-hearted reader, and is testified
the essential unreasonableness of impos by the common consciousness of Chris
ing dogmatic propositions as a creed, I tendom. It has pleased the Creator to
had to consider why I could not adopt give us one sun in the heavens, and one
such a modification, or (as it appeared to divine soul in history, in order to correct
me) reconstruction, of Christianity ; and the aberrations of our individuality and
I gave reasons in the first edition of this unite all mankind into one family of
book, which, avoiding direct treatment God. Jesus is to be presumed to be
of the character of Jesus, seemed to me perfect until he is shown to be imperfect.
Faith in Jesus is not reception of pro
adequate on the opposite side.
My argument was reviewed by a friend positions, but reverence for a person;
who presently published the review with yet this is not the condition of salvation,
his name, replying to my remarks on this or essential to the divine favour.
Such is the scheme, abridged from the
scheme. I thus find myself in public
and avowed controversy with one who is ample discussion of my eloquent friend.
endowed with talents, accomplishments, In reasoning against it my arguments
and genius to which I have no preten will to a certain extent be those of an
sions. The challenge has certainly come orthodox Trinitarian;1 since we might
from myself. Trusting to the goodness both maintain that the belief in the
of my cause, I have ventured it into an absolute divine morality of Jesus is not
unequal combat; and from a conscious tenable when the belief in every other
ness of my admired friend’s high supe divine and superhuman quality is denied.
riority I do feel a little abashed at being Should I have any “orthodox” reader,
brought face to face against him. But my arguments may shock his feelings
possibly the less said to the public on less if he keeps this in view. In fact,
these personal matters the better.
the same action or word in Jesus may
I have to give reasons why I cannot be consistent or inconsistent with moral
adopt that modified scheme of Chris perfection, according to the previous
tianity which is defended and adorned assumptions concerning his person.
by James Martineau ; according to which
I. My friend has attributed to me a
it is maintained that, though the Gospel “prosaic and embittered view of human
narratives are not to be trusted in detail, nature,” apparently because I have . a
there can yet be no reasonable doubt very intense belief of man’s essential
what Jesus was ; for this is elicited by a
“higher moral criticism,” which (it is
1 I have by accident just taken up the British
remarked) I neglect. In this theory Quarterly, and alighted upon the following sen
Jesus is avowed to be a man born like tence concerning Madame Roland : To say that
'without
say that she
other men—to be liable to error, and (at she was human. fault 'would be toexpresses and
was not
This so entirely
least in some important respects) mis concludes all that I have to say that I feel sur
taken. Perhaps no general proposition prise at my needing at all to write such a chapter
is to be accepted merely on the word of as the present.
�104
ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
imperfection. To me, I confess, it is
almost a first principle of thought that, as
all sorts of perfection co-exist in God, so
is no sort of perfection possible to man.
I do not know how for a moment to
imagine an Omniscient Being who is not
Almighty, or an Almighty who is not
All-Righteous. So neither do I know
how to conceive of perfect holiness any
where but in the Blessed and only
Potentate.
Man is finite and crippled on all sides,
and frailty in one kind causes frailty in
another. Deficient power causes defi
cient knowledge, deficient knowledge
betrays him into false opinion and
entangles him into false positions. It
may be a defect of my imagination, but
I do not feel that it implies any bitter
ness, that even in the case of one who
abides in primitive lowliness, to attain
even negatively an absolutely pure good
ness seems to me impossible; and, much
more, to exhaust all goodness and become
a single model-man, unparalleled, incom
parable, a standard for all other moral
excellence. Especially I cannot con
ceive of any human person rising out of
obscurity and influencing the history of
the world, unless there be in him forces
of great intensity, the harmonising of
which is a vast and painful problem.
Every man has to subdue himself first
before he preaches to his fellows, and he
encounters many a fall and many a
wound in winning his own victory. And
as talents are various, so do moral natures
vary, each having its own weak and
strong side; and that one man should
grasp into his single self the highest
perfection of every moral kind is to me at
least as incredible as that one should pre
occupy and exhaust all intellectual great
ness. I feel the prodigy to be so pecu
liar that I must necessarily wait until it
is overwhelmingly proved before I admit
it. No one can without unreason urge
me to believe on any but the most irre
futable arguments that a man finite in
every other respect is infinite in moral
perfection.
My friend is “ at a loss to conceive in
what way a superhuman physical nature
could tend in the least degree to render
moral perfection more credible.” But I
think he will see that it would entirely
obviate the argument just stated, which,
from the known frailty of human nature
in general, deduced the indubitable im
perfection of an individual. The reply
is then obvious and decisive: “ This
individual is not a mere man ; his origin
is wholly exceptional; therefore his moral
perfection may be exceptional; your
experience of man's weakness goes for
nothing in his case.” If I were already
convinced that this person was a great
Unique, separated from all other men by
an impassable chasm in regard to his
physical origin, I for one should be much
readier to believe that he was unique and
unapproachable in other respects; for
all God’s works have an internal har
mony. It could not be for nothing that
this exceptional personage was sent into
the world. That he was intended as
head of the human race in one or more
senses would be a plausible opinion;
nor should I feel any incredulous repug
nance against believing his morality to
be, if not divinely perfect, yet separated
from that of common men so far that he
might be a God to us, just as every parent
is to a young child.
This view seems to my friend a weak
ness. Be it so. I need not press it.
What I do press is : whatever might or
might not be conceded concerning one
in human form, but of superhuman
origin—at any rate, one who is conceded
to be, out and out, of the same nature
as ourselves, is to be judged of by our
experience of that nature, and is there
fore to be assumed to be variously
imperfect, however eminent and admir
able in some respects. And no one is
to be called an imaginer of deformity
because he takes for granted that one
who is man has imperfections which
were not known to those who compiled
memorials of him. To impute to a
person, without specific evidence, some
definite frailty or fault barely because he
is human would be a want of good
�ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
sense; but not so to have a firm belief
that every human being is finite in moral
as well as in intellectual greatness.
We have a very imperfect history of
the Apostle James, and I do not know
that I could adduce any fact specifically
recorded concerning him in disproof of
his absolute moral perfection if any of
his Jerusalem disciples had chosen to
set up this as a dogma of religion. Yet
no one would blame me as morose or
indisposed to acknowledge genius and
greatness if I insisted on believing James
to be frail and imperfect, while admitting
that I knew almost nothing about him.
And why ? Singly and surely because
we know him to be a man ; that suffices.
To set up James or John or Daniel as
my model and my Lord, to be swallowed
up in him and press him upon others for
a universal standard, would be despised
as a self-degrading idolatry and resented
as an obtrusive favouritism. Now, why
does not the same equally apply if the
name Jesus is substituted for these?
Why, in defect of all other knowledge
than the bare fact of his manhood, are
we not unhesitatingly to take for granted
that he does not exhaust all perfection,
and is at best only one among many
brethren and equals ?
II. My friend, I gather, will reply,
“ because so many thousands of minds
in all Christendom attest the infinite and
unapproachable goodness of Jesus.” It
therefore follows to consider what is the
weight of this attestation. Manifestly, it
depends, first of all, on the indepen
dence of the witnesses ; secondly, on the
grounds of their belief. If all those who
confess the moral perfection of Jesus
confess it as the result of unbiassed
examination of his character, and if, of
those acquainted with the narrative,
none espouse the opposite side, this
would be a striking testimony, not to be
despised. But, in fact, few indeed of
the “ witnesses ” add any weight at all
to the argument. No Trinitarian can
doubt that Jesus is morally perfect,
without doubting fundamentally every
part of his religion. He believes it
105
because the entire system demands it,
and because various texts of Scripture
avow it; and this very fact makes it
morally impossible for him to enter
upon an unbiassed inquiry, whether that
character which is drawn for Jesus in the
four Gospels is or is not one of abso
lute perfection, deserving to be made
an exclusive model for all times and
countries. My friend never was a
Trinitarian, and seems not to know how
this operates; but I can testify that when
I believed in the immaculateness of
Christ’s character it was not from an
unbiassed criticism, but from the
pressure of authority (the authority of
texts'), and from the necessity of the
doctrine to the scheme of redemption.
Not merely strict Trinitarians, but all
who believe in the Atonement, however
modified—all who believe that Jesus
will be the future Judge—must believe in
his absolute perfection; hence the fact
of their belief is no indication whatever
that they believe on the ground which
my friend assumes—viz., an intelligent
and unbiassed study of the character
itself, as exhibited in the four narratives.
I think we may go farther. We have
no reason for thinking that this was the
sort of evidence which convinced the
Apostles themselves, and first teachers
of the Gospel, if, indeed, in the very first
years the doctrine was at all conceived
of. It cannot be shown that anyone
believed in the moral perfection of
Jesus who had not already adopted the
belief that he was Messiah, and therefore
Judge of the human race. My friend
makes the pure immaculateness of Jesus
(discernible by him in the Gospels) his
foundation, and deduces from this the
quasi-Messiahship; but the opposite
order of deduction appears to have been
the only one possible in the first age.
Take Paul as a specimen. He believed
the doctrine in question, but not from
reading the four Gospels, for they did
not exist. Did he then believe it by
hearing Ananias (Acts ix. 17) enter into
details concerning the deeds and words
of Jesus? I cannot imagine that any
�io6
ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
wise or thoughtful person would so
judge, which after all would be a
gratuitous invention. The Acts of the
Apostles give us many speeches which
set forth the grounds of accepting Jesus
as Messiah, but they never press his
absolute moral perfection as a fact, and a
fundamental fact. “He went about
doing good, and healing ail that were
oppressed of the devil,” is the utmost
that is advanced on this side; prophecy
is urged, and his resurrection is asserted,
and the inference is drawn that “Jesus
is the Christ.” Out of this flowed the
farther inferences that he was Supreme
Judge, and, moreover, was Paschal
Lamb and Sacrifice and High Priest
and Mediator; and since every one of
these characters demanded a belief in
his moral perfections, that doctrine also
necessarily followed, and was received
before our present Gospels existed. My
friend, therefore, cannot abash me by
the argumentum ad verecundiam (which
to me seems highly out of place in this
connection), for the opinion which is, as
to this single point, held by him in
common with the first Christians, was
held by them on transcendental reasons,
which he totally discards; and all after
generations have been confirmed in the
doctrine by authority—i.e., by the weight
of texts or Church decisions, both of
which he also discards. If I could
receive the doctrine merely because I
dared not to differ from the whole
Christian world, I might aid to swell
odium against rejectors, but I should not
strengthen the cause at the bar of reason.
I feel, therefore, that my friend must not
claim Catholicity as on his side. Trini
tarians and Arians are alike useless to
his argument; nay, nor can he claim
more than a small fraction of Unitarians,
for as. many of them as believe that
Jesus is to be the Judge of living and
dead (as the late Dr. Lant Carpenter
did) must as necessarily believe his
immaculate perfection as if they were
Trinitarians.
The New Testament does not dis
tinctly explain on what grounds this
doctrine was believed; but we may
observe that in i Peter i. 19 and 2 Cor.
v. 21 it is coupled with the Atonement,
and in 1 Peter ii. 21, Romans xv. 3, it
seems to be inferred from prophecy.
But let us turn to the original eleven,
who were eye and ear witnesses of
Jesus, and consider on what grounds
they can have believed (if we assume
that they did all believe) the absolute
moral perfection of Jesus. It is too
ridiculous to imagine them studying the
writings of Matthew in order to obtain
conviction—if any of that school whom
alone I now address could admit that
written documents were thought of
before the Church outstepped the limits
of Judaea. If the eleven believed the
doctrine for some transcendental reason
—as by a supernatural revelation, or
on account of prophecy, and to complete
the Messiah’s character — then their
attestation is useless to my friend’s
argument. Will it then gain anything if
we suppose that they believed Jesus to be
perfect, because they saw him to be
perfect ? To me this would seem no
attestation worth having, but rather a
piece of impertinent ignorance. If I
attest that a person whom I have known
was an eminently good man, I command
a certain amount of respect to my
opinion, and I do him honour. If I
celebrate his good deeds and report his
wise words, I extend his honour still
farther.
But if I proceed to assure
people, on the evidence of my personal
observation of him, that he was immacu
late and absolutely perfect, was the pure
moral image of God, that he deserves to
be made the exclusive model of imita
tion, and is the standard by which
every other man’s morality is to be
corrected, I make myself ridiculous;
my panegyrics lose all weight, and I
produce far less conviction than when I
praised within human limitations. I do
not know how my friend will look on
this point (for his judgment on the
whole question perplexes me, and the
views which I call sober he names
prosaic), but I cannot resist the conviction
�ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
that universal common sense would have
rejected the teaching of the eleven with
contempt if they had presented, as
the basis of the gospel, their personal
testimony to the godlike and unapproach
able moral absolutism of Jesus. But
even if such a basis was possible to the
eleven, it was impossible to Paul and
Silvanus and Timothy and Barnabas
and Apollos, and the other successful
preachers to the Gentiles. High moral
goodness, within human limitations, was
undoubtedly announced as a fact of the
life of Jesus ; but upon this followed the
supernatural claims and the argument of
prophecy—without which my friend
desires to build up his view. I have
thus developed why I think he has no right
to claim Catholicity for his judgment.
I have risked to be tedious, because I
find that when I speak concisely I am
enormously misapprehended.
I close
this topic by observing that the great
animosity with which my very mild
intimations against the popular view have
been met from numerous quarters shows
me that Christians do not allow this
subject to be calmly debated, and have
not come to their own conclusion as the
result of a calm debate. And this is
amply corroborated by my own conscious
ness of the past. I never dared, nor
could have dared, to criticise coolly and
simply the pretensions of Jesus to be an
absolute model of morality until I had
been delivered from the weight of
authority and miracle oppressing my
critical powers.
III. I have been asserting that he
who believes Jesus to be a mere man
ought at once to believe his moral
excellence finite and comparable to that
of other men, and that our judgment
to this effect cannot be reasonably
overborne by the “ universal consent ” of
Christendom. Thus far we are dealing
a priori, which here fully satisfies me;
in such an argument I need no a poste
riori evidence to arrive at my own con
clusion. Nevertheless, I am met by
taunts and clamour, which are not meant
to be indecent, but which to my feeling
toy
are such. My critics point triumphantly
to the four Gospels, and demand that I
will make a personal attack on a character
which they revere, even when they know
that I cannot do so without giving great
offence. Now, if anyone were to call my
old schoolmaster, or my old parish
priest, a perfect and universal model,
and were to claim that I would entitle
him Lord, and think of him as the
only true revelation of God, should I
not be at liberty to say, without disrespect,
that “ I most emphatically deprecate
such extravagant claims for him ” ?
Would this justify an outcry that I will
publicly avow what I judge to be his
defects of character, and will prove to all
his admirers that he was a sinner like
other men ? Such a demand would be
thought, I believe, highly unbecoming
and extremely unreasonable. May not
my modesty, or my regard for his
memory, or my unwillingness to pain
his family, be accepted as sufficient
reasons for silence? Or would anyone
scoffingly attribute my reluctance to
attack him to my conscious inability to
make good my case against his being
“God manifest in the flesh”? Now,
what if one of his admirers had written
panegyrical memorials of him, and his
character therein described was so
faultless that a stranger to him was not
able to descry any moral defect whatever
in it? Is such a stranger bound to
believe him to be the divine standard of
morals, unless he can put his finger on
certain passages of the book which
imply weaknesses and faults ? And is it
insulting a man to refuse to worship
him ? I utterly protest against every
such pretence. As I have an infinitely
stronger conviction that Shakespeare was
not in intellect divinely and unapproach
ably perfect than that I can certainly
point out in him some definite intellec
tual defect; as, moreover, I am vastly
more sure that Socrates was morally
imperfect than that I am able to censure
him rightly; so, also, a disputant who
concedes to me that Jesus is a mere man
has no right to claim that I will point
�io8
ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
out some moral flaw in him, or else
acknowledge him to be a unique, un
paralleled divine soul. It is true I do
see defects, and very serious ones, in the
character of Jesus as drawn by his
disciples ; but I cannot admit that my
right to disown the pretensions made for
him turns on my ability to define his
frailties. As long as (in common with
my friend) I regard Jesus as a man, so
long I hold with dogmatic and intense
conviction the inference that he was
morally imperfect, and ought not to be
held up as unapproachable in goodness;
but I have, in comparison, only a modest
belief that I am able to show his points
of weakness.
While, therefore, in obedience to this
call, which has risen from many quarters,
I think it right not to refuse the odious
task pressed upon me, I yet protest that
my conclusion does not depend upon it.
I might censure Socrates unjustly, or at
least without convincing my readers, if I
attempted that task; but my failure
would not throw a feather’s weight into
the argument that Socrates was a divine,
unique, and universal model. If I write
now what is painful to readers, I beg
them to remember that I write with
much reluctance, and that it is their own
fault if they read.
In approaching this subject, the first
difficulty is to know how much of the
four Gospels to accept as fact. If we
could believe the whole, it would be
easier to argue ; but my friend Martineau
(with me) rejects belief of many parts.
For instance, he has but a very feeble
conviction that Jesus ever spoke the
discourses attributed to him in John’s
Gospel. If, therefore, I were to found
upon these some imputation of moral
weakness, he would reply that we are
agreed in setting these aside as untrust
worthy. Yet he perseveres in asserting
that it is beyond all reasonable question
what Jesus was; as though proven
inaccuracies in all the narratives did not
make the results uncertain. He says
that even the poor and uneducated are
fully impressed with “ the majesty and
sanctity ” of Christ’s mind; as if this
were what I am fundamentally denying,
and not only so far as would transcend
the known limits of human nature.
Surely “ majesty and sanctity ” are not
inconsistent with many weaknesses. But
our judgment concerning a man’s motives,
his temper, and his full conquest over
self, vanity, and impulsive passion depends
on the accurate knowledge of a vast
variety of minor points; even the curl
of the lip, or the discord of eye and
mouth, may change our moral judgment
of a man; while, alike to my friend and
me, it is certain that much of what is
stated is untrue. Much, moreover, of
what he holds to be untrue does not
seem so to any but to the highly
educated. In spite, therefore, of his able
reply, I abide in my opinion that he is
unreasonably endeavouring to erect what
is essentially a piece of doubtful bio
graphy and difficult literary criticism into
first-rate religious importance.
I shall, however, try to pick up a few
details, which seem as much as any to
deserve credit, concerning the preten
sions, doctrine, and conduct of Jesus.
First, I believe that he habitually
spoke of himself by the title Son of Man
—a fact which pervades all the accounts,
and was likely to rivet itself on his
hearers. Nobody but he himself ever
calls him Son of Man.
Secondly, I believe that in assuming
this title he tacitly alluded to the seventh
chapter of Daniel, and claimed for
himself the throne of judgment over all
mankind. I know no reason to doubt
that he actually delivered (in substance)
the discourse in Matt, xxv.: “When
the Son of Man shall come in his glory,
....... before him shall be gathered all
nations....... and he shall separate them,”
etc.; and I believe that by the Son of
Man and the King he meant himself.
Compare Luke xii. 40, ix. 56.
Thirdly, I believe that he habitually
assumed the authoritative, dogmatic tone
of one who was a universal teacher in
moral and spiritual matters, and enun
ciated as a primary duty of men to learn
�ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
submissively of his wisdom and acknow
ledge his supremacy. This element in
his character, the preaching of himself
is enormously expanded in the Fourth
Gospel, but it distinctly exists in Matthew.
Thus in Matt, xxiii. 8 : “Be not ye
called Rabbi \teacher\, for one is your
teacher, even Christ; and all ye are
brethren.” Matt. x. 32: “Whosoever
shall confess me before men, him will
I confess before my Father which is
in heaven........ He that loveth father
or mother more than me is not worthy of
me,” etc.
Matt. xi. 27: “All things
are delivered unto me of my Father, and
no man knoweth the Son but the Father;
neither knoweth any man the Father,
save the Son ; and he to whomsoever
the Son will reveal him. Come unto
me, all ye that labour....... and I will give
you rest. Take my yoke upon you,” etc.
My friend, I find, rejects Jesus as an
authoritative teacher, distinctly denies
that the acceptance of Jesus in this
character is any condition of salvation
and of the divine favour, and treats of
my “ demand of an oracular Christ ” as
inconsistent with my own principles.
But this is mere misconception of what
I have said. I find Jesus himself to set
up oracular claims. I find an assump
tion of pre-eminence and unapproachable
moral wisdom to pervade every discourse
from end to end of the Gospels. If I
may not believe that Jesus assumed an
oracular manner, I do not know what
moral peculiarity in him I am permitted
to believe. I do not demand (as my
friend seems to think) that he shall be
oracular, but, in common with all Chris
tendom, I open my eyes and see that
he is ; and until I had read my friend’s
review of my book I never understood
(I suppose through my own preposses
sions) that he holds Jesus not to have
assumed the oracular style.
If I cut out from the four Gospels
this peculiarity, I must cut out not only
the claim of Messiahship, which my
friend admits to have been made, but
nearly every moral discourse and every
controversy ; and why, except in order
109
to make good a predetermined belief
that Jesus was morally perfect ? What
reason can be given me for not believing
that Jesus declared : “ If any one deny
me before men, him will I deny before
my Father and his angels,” or any of
the other texts which couple the favour
of God with a submission to such
pretensions of Jesus ? I can find no
reason whatever for doubting that he
preached himself to his disciples, though
in the first three Gospels he is rather
timid of doing this to the Pharisees and
to the nation at large. I find him
uniformly to claim, sometimes in tone,
sometimes in distinct words, that we
will sit at his feet like little children and
learn of him. I find him ready to
answer off-hand all difficult questions,
critical and lawyer-like as well as moral.
True, it is no tenet of mine that intellec
tual and literary attainment is essential in
an individual person to high spiritual
eminence. True, in another book I
have elaborately maintained the con
trary. Yet in that book I have described
men’s spiritual progress as often arrested
at a certain stage by a want of intel
lectual development, which surely would
indicate that I believed even intellectual
blunders and an infinitely perfect, ex
haustive morality to be incompatible.
But our question here (or, at least, my
question) is not whether Jesus might
misinterpret prophecy, and yet be morally
perfect; but whether, after assuming to
be an oracular teacher, he can teach some
fanatical precepts, and advance dog
matically weak and foolish arguments,
without impairing our sense of his abso
lute moral perfection.
I do not think it useless here to repeat
(though not for my friend) concise
reasons which I gave in my first edition
against admitting dictatorial claims for
Jesus. First, it is an unplausible opinion
that God would deviate from his ordinary
course in order to give us anything so
undesirable as an authoritative oracle
would be, which would paralyse our
moral powers, exactly as an infallible
Church does, in the very proportion in
�IIO
ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
which we succeeded in eliciting responses
from it. It is not needful here to repeat
what has been said to that effect in p. i o i.
Secondly, there is no imaginable criterion
by which we can establish that the wisdom
of a teacher is absolute and illimitable.
All that we can possibly discover is the
relative fact that another is wiser than
we ; and even this is liable to be over
turned on special points as soon as differ
ences of judgment arise. Thirdly, while
it is by no means clear what are the new
truths for which we are to lean upon the
decisions of Jesus, it is certain that we
have no genuine and trustworthy account
of his teaching. If God had intended
us to receive the authoritative dicta of
Jesus, he would have furnished us with
an unblemished record of those dicta.
To allow that we have not this, and that
we must disentangle for ourselves (by a
most difficult and uncertain process) the
“true” sayings of Jesus, is surely self
refuting. Fourthly, if I must sit in judg
ment on the claims of Jesus to be the
true Messiah and Son of God, how can
I concentrate all my free thought into
that one act, and thenceforth abandon
free thought ? This appears a moral
suicide, whether Messiah or the Pope is
the object whom we first criticise, in
order to instal him over us, and then for
ever after refuse to criticise. In short,
we cannot build up a system of oracles
on a basis of free criticism. If we are
to submit our judgment to the dictation
of some other, whether a Church or an
individual, we must be first subjected
to that other by some event from with
out, as by birth, and not by a process of
that very judgment which is henceforth
to be sacrificed. But from this I pro
ceed to consider more in detail some
points in the teaching and conduct of
Jesus which do not appear to me con
sistent with absolute perfection.
The argument of Jesus concerning the
tribute to Caesar is so dramatic as to
strike the imagination and rest on the
memory; and I know no reason for
doubting that it has been correctly re
ported. The book of Deuteronomy
(xvii. 15) distinctly forbids Israel to set
over himself as king any who is not a
native Israelite, which appeared to be a
religious condemnation of submission
to Cresar. Accordingly, since Jesus
assumed the tone of unlimited wisdom,
some of Herod’s party asked him whether
it was lawful to pay tribute to Caesar.
Jesus replied : “ Why tempt ye me, hypo
crites ? Show me the tribute money.”
When one of the coins was handed to
him, he asked: “ Whose image and
superscription is this ?” When they re
plied, “ Caesar’s,” he gave his authorita
tive decision : “ Render therefore to
Caesar the things that are Ccesar’s.”
In this reply not only the poor and
uneducated, but many likewise of the
rich and educated, recognise “ majesty
and sanctity yet I find it hard to think
that my strong-minded friend will defend
the justice, wisdom, and honesty of it.
To imagine that, because a coin bears
Caesar’s head, therefore it is Caesar’s pro
perty, and that he may demand to have
as many of such coins as he chooses
paid over to him, is puerile and noto
riously false. The circulation of foreign
coin of every kind was as common in the
Mediterranean then as now; and every
body knew that the coin was the property
of the holder, not of him whose head it
bore. Thus the reply of Jesus, which
pretended to be a moral decision, was
unsound and absurd; yet it is uttered in
a tone of dictatorial wisdom, and ushered
in by a grave rebuke : “ Why tempt ye
me, hypocrites ?” He is generally under
stood to mean, “ Why do you try to
implicate me in a political charge?” and
it is supposed that he prudently evaded
the question. I have, indeed, heard this
interpretation from high Trinitarians,
which indicates to me how dead is their
moral sense in everything which concerns
the conduct of Jesus. No reason appears
why he should not have replied that
Moses forbade Israel voluntarily to place
himself under a foreign king, but did not
inculcate fanatical and useless rebellion
against overwhelming power. But such
a reply, which would have satisfied a
�ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
more commonplace mind, has in it
nothing brilliant and striking. I cannot
but think that Jesus shows a vain conceit
in the cleverness of his answer ; I do not
think it so likely to have been a con
scious evasion. But neither does his
rebuke of the questioners at all commend
itself to me. How can any man assume
to be an authoritative teacher, and then
claim that men shall not put his wisdom
to the proof ? Was it not their duty to
do so ? And when, in result, the trial
has proved the defect of his wisdom, did
they not perform a useful public service ?
In truth, I cannot see the model man
in his rebuke. Let not my friend say
that the error was merely intellectual;
blundering self-sufficiency is a moral
weakness.
I might go into detail concerning
other discourses where error and arro
gance appear to me combined. But,
not to be tedious, in general I must
complain that Jesus purposely adopted
an enigmatical and pretentious style of
teaching, unintelligible to his hearers,
and needing explanation in private.
That this was his systematic procedure
I believe, because, in spite of the great
contrast of the fourth Gospel to the
others, it has this peculiarity in common
with them. Christian divines are used
to tell us that this mode was peculiarly
instructive to the vulgar of Judaea, and
they insist on the great wisdom displayed
in his choice of the lucid parabolical style.
But in Matt. xiii. 10-15 Jesus is made
confidentially to avow precisely the oppo
site reason—viz., that he desires the
vulgar not to understand him, but only
the select few to whom he gives private
explanations. I confess I believe the
Evangelist rather than the modern
divine. I cannot conceive how so
strange a notion could ever have pos
sessed the companions of Jesus if it had
not been true. If really this parabolical
method had been peculiarly intelligible,
what could make them imagine the con
trary ? Unless they found it very obscure
themselves, whence came the idea that
it was obscure to the multitude? As
Ill
a fact, it is very obscure to this day.
There is much that I most imperfectly
understand owing to unexplained meta
phor, as : “Agree with thine adversary
quickly,” etc.; “Whoso calls his brother1
a fool is in danger of hell fire ”; “ Every
one must be salted with fire, and every
sacrifice salted with salt. Have salt in
yourselves, and be at peace with one
another.” Now, every man of original
and singular genius has his own forms of
thought; in so far as they are natural
we must not complain if to us they are
obscure. But the moment affectation
comes in they no longer are reconcil
able with the perfect character; they
indicate vanity and incipient sacerdo
talism. The distinct notice that Jesus
avoided to expound his parables to the
multitude, and made this a boon to the
privileged few, and that without a parable
he spake not to the multitude ; and the
pious explanation that this was a fulfil
ment of prophecy, “ I will open my
mouth in parables, I will utter dark say
ings on the harp,” persuade me that the
impression of the disciples was a deep
reality. And it is in entire keeping with
the general narrative, which shows in
him so much of mystical assumption.
Strip the parables of the imagery, and
you find that sometimes one thought
has been dished up four or five times,
and generally that an idea is dressed
into sacred grandeur. This mystical
method made a little wisdom go a great
way with the multitude, and to such a
mode of economising resources the in
stinct of the uneducated man betakes
itself when he is claiming to act a part
for which he is imperfectly prepared.
It is common with orthodox Christians
to take for granted that unbelief of Jesus
was a sin, and belief a merit, at a time
when no rational grounds of belief were
as yet public. Certainly, whoever asks
questions with a view to prove Jesus is
1 I am acquainted with the interpretation
that the word “ M6re” is not here Greek—i.e.,
fool—but is Hebrew, and means rebel, which is
stronger than “Raca”— silly fellow. This
gives partial, but only partial, relief.
�I 12
ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
spoken of vituperatingly in the Gospels;
and it does appear to me that the pre
valent Christian belief is a true echo of
Jesus’s own feeling. He disliked being
put to the proof. Instead of rejoicing
in it, as a true and upright man ought;
instead of blaming those who accept his
pretensions on too slight grounds ; in
stead of encouraging full inquiry and
giving frank explanations, he resents
doubt, shuns everything that will test
him, is very obscure as to his own pre
tensions (so as to need probing and
positive questions, whether he does or
does not profess to be Messiah), and yet
is delighted at all easy belief. When
asked for miracles, he sighs and groans at
the unreasonableness of it; yet does not
honestly and plainly renounce pretension
to miracle, as Mr. Martineau would, but
leaves room for credit to himself for as
many miracles as the credulous are
willing to impute to him. It is possible
that here the narrative is unjust to his
memory. So far from being the picture
of perfection, it sometimes seems to me
the picture of a conscious and wilful
impostor. His general character is too
high for this, and I therefore make de
ductions from the account. Still, I do
not see how the present narrative could
have grown up if he had been really
simple and straightforward, and not per
verted by his essentially false position.
Enigma and mist seem to be his element;
and, when I find his high satisfaction at
all personal recognition and bowing before
his individuality, I almost doubt whether,
if one wished to draw the character of a
vain and vacillating pretender, it would
be possible to draw anything more to
the purpose than this. His general
rule (before a certain date) is to be
cautious in public, but bold in private
to the favoured few. I cannot think
that such a character, appearing now,
would seem to my friend a perfect model
of a man.
No precept bears on its face clearer
marks of coming from the genuine Jesus
than that of selling all and following him.
This was his original call to his disciples.
It was enunciated authoritatively on
various occasions. It is incorporated
with precepts of perpetual obligation in
such a way that we cannot without the
greatest violence pretend that he did
not intend n as a precept1 to all his
disciples. In Luke xii. 22-40 he
addresses the disciples collectively
against avarice; and a part of the
discourse is: “Fear not, little flock;
for it is your Father’s good pleasure to
give you the kingdom. Sell that ye
have, and give alms : provide yourselves
bags that wax not old ; a treasure in
the heavens that faileth not....... Let
your loins be girded about, and your
lights burning,” etc. To say that he
was not intending to teach a universal
morality2 is to admit that his precepts
are a trap; for they then mix up and
confound mere contingent duties with
universal sacred obligations, enunciating
all in the same breath and with the
same solemnity. I cannot think that
Jesus intended any separation. In fact,
when a rich young man asked of him
what he should do that he might inherit
eternal life, and pleaded that he had
kept the Ten Commandments, but felt
that to be insufficient, Jesus said unto
him: “If thou wilt be perfect, go and
sell that thou hast, and give to the poor,
and thou shalt have treasure in heaven
so that the duty was not contingent upon
1 Indeed, we have in Luke vi. 20-24 a version
of the Beatitudes so much in harmony with this
lower doctrine as to make it an open question
whether the version in Matt. v. is not an improve
ment upon Jesus, introduced by the purer sense
of the collective Church. In Luke he does not
bless the poor in spirit, and those who hunger
after righteousness, but absolutely the “poor”
and the “hungry,” and all who honour him ;
and, in contrast, curses the rich and those who
are full.
2 At the close is the parable about the absent
master of a house; and Peter asks: “Lord!
[Sir !] speakest thou this parable unto us, or
also unto all?'' Who would not have hoped an
ingenuous reply, “ To you only,” or, “To every
body”? Instead of which, so inveterate is his
tendency to muffle up the simplest things in
mystery, he replies, “Who, then, is that faithful
and wise steward?” etc., and entirely evades
reply to the very natural question.
�ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
ri3
even the Church of Rome will admit.
Protestants universally reject it as a
deplorable absurdity—not merely wealthy
bishops, squires, and merchants, but the
poorest curate also. A man could not
preach such a doctrine in a Protestant
pulpit without incurring deep reprobation
and contempt; but, when preached by
Jesus, it is extolled as divine wisdom—
and disobeyed.
Now, I cannot look on this as a pure
intellectual error, consistent with moral
perfection. A deep mistake as to the
nature of such perfection seems to me
inherent in the precept itself—a mistake
which indicates a moral unsoundness.
The conduct of Jesus to the rich young
man appears to me a melancholy exhibi
tion of perverse doctrine, under an
ostentation of superior wisdom. The
young man asked for bread, and Jesus
gave him a stone. Justly he went away
sorrowful at receiving a reply which his
conscience rejected as false and foolish.
But this is not all. Jesus was necessarily
on trial when anyone, however sincere,
came to ask questions so deeply probing
the quality of his wisdom as this : “ How
may I be perfect?” and to be on trial
was always disagreeable to him. He
first gave the reply, “ Keep the com
mandments”; and if the young man
had been satisfied, and had gone away,
it appears that Jesus would have been
glad to be rid of him; for his tone is
magisterial, decisive, and final. This, I
confess, suggests to me that the aim of
Jesus was not so much to enlighten the
young man as to stop his mouth, and
keep up his own ostentation of omni
science. Had he desired to enlighten
him, surely no mere dry dogmatic com
mand was needed, but an intelligent
guidance of a willing and trusting soul.
I do not pretend to certain knowledge
in these matters. Even when we hear
the tones of voice and watch the features,
we often mistake. We have no such
means here of checking the narrative.
But the best general result which I can
' This implied that Judas, as one of the
draw from the imperfect materials is
twelve, had earned the heavenly throne by the
what I have said.
price of earthly goods.
\ the peculiarity of a man possessing
\ apostolic gifts, but was with Jesus the
\ normal path for all who desired perfec
tion. When the young man went away
sorrowing, Jesus moralised on it, saying :
* How hardly shall a rich man enter into
tae kingdom of heaven”; which again
shows that an abrupt renunciation of
wealth was to be the general and ordinary
method of entering the kingdom. Here
upon, when the disciples asked, “ Lo !
we have forsaken all, and followed thee :
what shall we have therefore ?” Jesus,
instead of rebuking their self-righteous
ness, promised them as a reward that
they should sit upon twelve1 thrones,
judging the twelve tribes of Israel. A
precept thus systematically enforced is
illustrated by the practice not only of
the twelve, but apparently of the seventy,
and, what is stronger still, by the practice
of the five thousand disciples after the
celebrated days of the first Pentecost.
There was no longer a Jesus on earth to
itinerate with, yet the disciples, in the
fervour of first love, obeyed his precept;
the rich sold their possessions, and laid
the price at the Apostles’ feet.
The mischiefs inherent in such a
precept rapidly showed themselves, and
good sense corrected the error. But
this very fact proves most emphatically
that the precept was pre-apostolic, and
came from the genuine Jesus ; otherwise
it could never have found its way into
the Gospels. It is undeniable that the
first disciples, by whose tradition alone
we have any record of what Jesus taught,
understood him to deliver this precept
to all who desired to enter into the
kingdom of heaven—all -who desired to
be perfect; why, then, are we to refuse
belief, and remould the precepts of Jesus
till they please our own morality ? This
is not the way to learn historical fact.
That to inculcate religious beggary as
the only form and mode of spiritual per
fection is fanatical and mischievous,
�H4
ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
After the merit of “selling all and
following Jesus,” a second merit not
small was to receive those whom he sent.
In Matt. x. we read that he sends out
his twelve disciples (also seventy in
Luke), men at that time in a very low
state of religious development—men who
did not themselves know what the king
dom of heaven meant—to deliver in
every village and town a mere formula of
words : “ Repent ye : for the kingdom
of heaven is at hand.” They were
ordered to go without money, scrip, or
cloak, but to live on religious alms; and
it is added that if any house or city does
not receive them it shall be more tolerable
for Sodom and Gomorrha in the day of
judgment than for it. He adds, v. 40:
“He that receiveth you receiveth me,
and he that receiveth me receiveth Him
that sent me.” I quite admit that in all
probability it was, on the whole, the
more pious part of Israel which was
likely to receive these ignorant mis
sionaries ; but, inasmuch as they had no
claims whatever, intrinsic or extrinsic, to
reverence, it appears to me a very
extravagant and fanatical sentiment thus
emphatically to couple the favour or
wrath of God with their reception or
rejection.
A third yet greater merit in the eyes
of Jesus was to acknowledge him as the
Messiah predicted by the prophets,
which he was not, according to my
friend. According to Matthew (xvi. 13),
Jesus put leading questions to the dis
ciples in order to elicit a confession of
his Messiahship, and emphatically blessed
Simon for making the avowal which he
desired ; but instantly forbade them to
tell the great secret to anyone. Unless
this is to be discarded as fiction, Jesus,
although to his disciples in secret he
confidently assumed Messianic preten
sions, had a just inward misgiving which
accounts both for his elation at Simon’s
avowal and for his prohibition to pub
lish it.
In admitting that Jesus was not the
Messiah of the prophets, my friend says
that, if Jesus were less than Messiah, we
can reverence him no. longer ; but that
he was more than Messiah. This is to
me unintelligible. The Messiah whom
he claimed to be was not only the son of
David celebrated in the prophets, but
emphatically the Son of Man of Daniel
vii., who shall come in the clouds of
heaven to take dominion, glory, and
kingdom, that all people, nations, and
languages shall serve him—an everlasting
kingdom which shall not pass away.
How Jesus himself interprets his supre
macy as Son of Man, in Matt, x., xi.,
xxiii., xxv., and elsewhere, I have already
observed. To claim such a character
seems to me like plunging from a
pinnacle of the temple. If miraculous
power holds him up and makes good
his daring, he is more than man ; but if
otherwise, to have failed will break all
his bones. I can no longer give the
same human reverence as before to one
who has been seduced into vanity so
egregious; and I feel assured a priori
that such presumption must have entan
gled him into evasions and insincerities
which naturally end in crookedness of
conscience and real imposture, however
noble a man’s commencement, and how
ever unshrinking his sacrifices of goods
and ease and life.
The time arrived at last when Jesus
felt that he must publicly assert Messiah
ship ; and this was certain to bring things
to an issue. I suppose him to have
hoped that he was Messiah until hope
and the encouragement given him by
Peter and others grew into a persuasion
strong enough to act upon, but not
always strong enough to still misgivings.
I say I suppose this, but I build nothing
on my supposition. I, however, see that
when he had resolved to claim Messiah
ship publicly one of two results was inevit
able if that claim was ill-founded—viz.,
either he must have become an impostor
in order to screen his weakness, or he
must have retracted his pretensions amid
much humiliation, and have retired into
privacy to learn soberwisdom. From these
alternatives there was escape only by death,
and upon death Jesus purposely rushed.
�ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
\ All Christendom has always believed
\ that the death of Jesus was voluntarily
\incurred, and, unless no man ever
became a wilful martyr, I cannot
conceive why we are to doubt the fact
concerning Jesus. When he resolved to
go up to Jerusalem he was warned by
his disciples of the danger; but so far
was he from being blind to it that he
distinctly announced to them that he
knew he should suffer in Jerusalem the
shameful death of a malefactor. On his
arrival in the suburbs his first act was
ostentatiously to ride into the city on an
ass’s colt in the midst of the acclama
tions of the multitude, in order to
exhibit himself as having a just right to
the throne of David. Thus he gave a
handle to imputations of intended
treason. He next entered the temple
courts, where doves and lambs were sold
for sacrifice, and (I must say it to my
friend’s amusement, and in defiance of
his kind but keen ridicule) committed a
breach of the peace by flogging with a
whip those who trafficked in the area.
By such conduct he undoubtedly made
himself liable to legal punishment, and
probably might have been publicly
scourged for it, had the rulers chosen to
moderate their vengeance. But he
“ meant to be prosecuted for treason,
not for felony,” to use the words of a
modern offender. He therefore com
menced the most exasperating attacks
on all the powerful, calling them
hypocrites and whited sepulchres and
vipers’ brood, and denouncing upon
them the ‘‘-condemnation of hell.” He
was successful. He had both enraged
the rulers up to the point of thirsting
for his life, and given colour to the
charge of political rebellion. He resolved
to die, and he died. Had his enemies
contemptuously let him live, he would
have been forced to act the part of
Jewish Messiah, or renounce Messiahship.
If anyone holds Jesus to be not
amenable to the laws of human morality,
I am not now reasoning with such a one.
But if anyone claims for him a human
i IS
perfection, then I say that his conduct
on this occasion was neither laudable
nor justifiable; far otherwise. There
are cases in which life may be thrown
away for a great cause, as when a leader
in battle rushes upon certain death in
order to animate his own men; but the
case before us has no similarity to that.
If our' accounts are not wholly false,
Jesus knowingly and purposely exaspe
rated the rulers into a great crime—the
crime of taking his life from personal
resentment. His inflammatory addresses
to the multitude have been defended as
follows :—
“ The prophetic spirit is sometimes
oblivious of the rules of the drawing
room, and inspired conscience, like the
inspiring God, seeing a hypocrite, will
take the liberty to say so, and act
accordingly. Are the superficial ameni
ties, the soothing fictions, the smother
ings of the burning heart....... really
paramount in this world, and never
to give way ? And when a soul of
power, unable to refrain, rubs off, though
it be with rasping words, all the varnish
from rottenness and lies, is he to be
tried in our courts of compliment for a
misdemeanour ? Is there never a higher
duty than that of either pitying or con
verting guilty men—the duty of publicly
exposing them ; of awakening the popular
conscience, and sweeping away the
conventional timidities for a severe
return to truth and reality ? No rule of
morals can be recognised as just which
prohibits conformity of human speech to
fact, and insists on terms of civility being
kept with all manner of iniquity.”
I certainly have not appealed to any
conventional morality of drawing-room
compliment, but to the highest and
purest principles which I know; and I
lament to find my judgment so extremely
in opposition. To me it seems that
inability to refrain shows weakness, not
power, of soul, and that nothing is easier
than to give vent to violent invective
against bad rulers. The last sentence
quoted seems to say that the speaking of
truth is never to be condemned : but I
�”6
ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
cannot agree to this. When truth will
only exasperate, and cannot do good,
silence is imperative. A man who
reproaches an armed tyrant in words too
plain does but excite him to murder;
and the shocking thing is that this
seems to have been the express object
of Jesus. No good result could be
reasonably expected. Publicly to call
men in authority by names of intense
insult, the writer of the above distinctly
sees will never convert them, but he
thinks it was adapted to awaken the
popular conscience. Alas! it needs no
divine prophet to inflame a multitude
against the avarice, hypocrisy, and
oppression of rulers, nor any deep
inspiration of conscience in the multi
tude to be wide awake on that point
themselves. A Publius Clodius or a
Cleon will do that work as efficiently as
a Jesus; nor does it appear that the
poor are made better by hearing invec
tives against the rich and powerful. If
Jesus had been aiming, in a good cause,
to excite rebellion, the mode of address
which he assumed seems highly appro
priate; and in such a calamitous necessity
to risk exciting murderous enmity would
be the act of a hero; but, as the account
stands, it seems to me the deed of a
fanatic. And it is to me manifest that
he overdid his attack, and failed to
commend it to the conscience of his
hearers. For up to this point the
multitude was in his favour. He was
notoriously so acceptable to the many
as to alarm the rulers; indeed, the belief
of his popularity had shielded him from
prosecution. But after this fierce address
he has no more popular support. At his
public trial the vast majority judge him
to deserve punishment, and prefer to
ask free forgiveness for Barabbas, a
bandit who was in prison for murder.
We moderns, nursed in an arbitrary
belief concerning these events, drink in
with our first milk the assumption that
Jesus only was guiltless, and all the
other actors in this sad affair inexcusably
guilty. Let no one imagine that I defend
for a moment the cruel punishment
which raw resentment inflicted on him.
But, though the rulers felt the rage of
vengeance, the people, who had suffered
no personal wrong, were moved only by
ill-measured indignation. The multitude
love to hear the powerful exposed ar.d
reproached up to a certain limit; but, if
reproach go clearly beyond all that they
feel to be deserved, a violent sentiment
reacts on the head of the reviler; and,
though popular indignation (even when
free from the element of selfishness) ill
fixes the due measure of punishment, I
have a strong belief that it is righteous
when it pronounces the verdict “Guilty.”
Does my friend deny that the death of
Jesus was wilfully incurred?
The
“orthodox” not merely admit, but main
tain it. Their creed justifies it by the
doctrine that his death was a “sacrifice”
so pleasing to God as to expiate the sins
of the world. This honestly meets the
objections to self-destruction ; for how
better could life be used than by laying
it down for such a prize ? But, besides
all other difficulties in the very idea of
atonement, the orthodox creed startles
us by the incredible conception that a
voluntary sacrifice of life should be
unacceptable to God, unless offered by
ferocious and impious hands. If Jesus
had “authority from the Father to lay
down his life,” was he unable to stab
himself in the desert, or on the sacred
altar of the Temple, without involving
guilt to any human being? Did he,
who is at once “ High Priest ” and Victim,
when “offering up himself” and “pre
senting his own blood unto God,” need
any justification for using the sacrificial
knife ? The orthodox view more clearly
and unshrinkingly avows that Jesus deli
berately goaded the wicked rulers into the
deeper wickedness of murdering him ;
but, on my friend’s view that Jesus was
no sacrifice, but only a model man, his
death is an unrelieved calamity. Nothing
but a long and complete life could
possibly test the fact of his perfection;
and the longer he lived, the better for
the world.
In entire consistency with his previous
�ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS
117
determination to die, Jesus, when
arraigned, refused to rebut accusation,
and behaved as one pleading guilty.
He was accused of saying that, if they
destroyed the temple, he would rebuild
it in three days; but how this was to the
purpose the Evangelists who name it do
not make clear. The fourth, however
(without intending so to do), explains it;
and I therefore am disposed to believe
his statement, though I put no faith in
his long discourses. It appears (John
ii. 18-20) that Jesus, after scourging the
people out of the temple-court, was
asked for a sign to justify his assuming
so very unusual authority, on which he
replied : “ Destroy this temple, and in
three days I will raise it up.” Such a
reply was regarded as a manifest evasion,
since he was sure that they would not
pull the temple down in order to try
whether he could raise it up miraculously.
Now, if Jesus really meant what the
fourth Gospel says he meant—if he
“ spoke of the temple of his body ”—how
was anyone to guess that ? It cannot be
denied that such a reply prima facie
suggested that he was a wilful impostor;
was it not, then, his obvious duty, when
this accusation was brought against him,
to explain that his words had been
mystical and had been misunderstood?
The form of the imputation in Mark xiv.
58 would make it possible to imagine—
if the three days were left out, and if his
words were not said in reply to the
demand of a sign—that Jesus had merely
avowed that, though the outward Jewish
temple were to be destroyed, he would
erect a church of worshippers as a
spiritual temple. If so, “ John ” has
grossly misrepresented him, and then
obtruded a very far-fetched explanation.
But whatever was the meaning of Jesus,
if it was honest, I think he was bound to
explain it, and not leave a suspicion of
imposture to rankle in men’s minds.1
Finally, if the whole were fiction, and he
never uttered such words, then it was his
duty to deny them, and not remain
dumb like a sheep before its shearers.
After he had confirmed by his silence
the belief that he had used a dishonest
evasion indicative of consciousness that
he was no real Messiah, he suddenly
burst out with a full reply to the High
Priest’s question, and avowed that he
was the Messiah, the Son of God, and
that they should hereafter see him
sitting on the right hand of power and
coming in the clouds of heaven—of
course, to enter into judgment on them
all. I am the less surprised that this
precipitated his condemnation, since he
himself seems to have designed pre
cisely that result. The exasperation
which he had succeeded in kindling led
to his cruel death; and when men’s
minds had cooled, natural horror
possessed them for such a retribution on
such a man. His words had been met
with deeds; the provocation he had
given was unfelt to those beyond the
limits of Jerusalem; and to the Jews
who assembled from distant parts at the
feast of Pentecost he was nothing but
the image of a sainted martyr.
I have given more than enough indi
cations of points in which the conduct
of Jesus does not seem to me to have
been that of a perfect man. How any
one can think him a universal model is
to me still less intelligible. I might say
much more on this subject; but I will
merely add that, when my friend gives
the weight of his noble testimony to the
perfection of Jesus, I think it is due to
himself and to us that he should make
clear what he means by this word
“Jesus.” He ought to publish (I say it
in deep seriousness, not sarcastically) an
expurgated Gospel, for, in truth, I do
not know how much of what I have now
adduced from the Gospel as fact he will
1 If the account in John is not wholly false, I
think the reply in every case discreditable. If
literal, it all but indicates wilful imposture. If
mystical, it is disingenuously evasive; and it
tended, not to instruct, but to irritate and to
move suspicion and contempt. Is this the
course for a religious teacher—to speak darkly
so as to mislead and prejudice ; and this when
he represents it as a matter of spiritual life and
death to accept his teaching and his supremacy ?
�ON BIGOTRY AND PROGRESS
admit to be fact. I neglect, he tells me,
“a higher moral criticism,” which, if I
rightly understand, would explode, as
evidently unworthy of Jesus, many of the
representations pervading the Gospels—
as that Jesus claimed to be an oracular
teacher, and attached spiritual life* or
death to belief or disbelief in this claim.
My friend says it is beyond all serious
question what Jesus was; but his dis
belief of the narrative seems to be so
much wider than mine as to leave me
more uncertain than ever about it. If
he will strike out of the Gospels all that
he disbelieves, and so enable me to
understand what is the Jesus whom he
reveres, I have so deep a sense of his
moral and critical powers that I am fully
prepared to expect that he may remove
many of my prejudices and relieve my
objections; but I cannot honestly say
that I see the least probability of his
altering my conviction that in consistency
of goodness Jesus fell far below vast
numbers of his unhonoured disciples.1
1 [It has been stated that Newman’s attitude
towards Christ underwent a great change in his
last years. The truth is that some of the
criticisms in the foregoing chapter are based on
texts which Newman afterwards came to regard
as unhistorical. But it is not true that he ever
came to accept the character of Jesus as an
ideal of moral perfection. See his posthumous
pamphlet, Mature Thought on Christianity
(Watts & Co., 1897).—Publisher’s Note.]
Chapter VIII.
ON BIGOTRY AND PROGRESS
If any Christian reader has been patient
enough to follow me thus far, I now
claim that he will judge my argument
and me as before the bar of God, and
not by the conventional standards of the
Christian Churches.
Morality and truth are principles in
human nature both older and more
widespread than Christianity or the
Bible ; and neither Jesus nor James nor
John nor Paul could have addressed, or
did address, men in any other tone than
that of claiming to be themselves judged
by some pre-existing standard of moral
truth, and by the inward powers of the
hearer. Does the reader deny this ?
Or, . admitting it, does he think it
impious to accept their challenge ?
Does he say that we are to love and
embrace Christianity without trying to
ascertain whether it be true or false ?
If he say Yes, such a man has no love or
care for truth, and is but by accident a
Christian. He would have remained a
faithful heathen had he been born in
heathenism, though Moses, Elijah, and
Christ preached a higher truth to him.
Such a man is condemned by his own
confession, and I here address him no
longer.
But if faith is a spiritual and personal
thing, if belief given at random to mere
high pretensions is an immorality, if
truth is not to be quite trampled down,
nor conscience to be wholly palsied in
us, then what, I ask, was I to do when I
saw that the genealogy in the first
chapter of Matthew is an erroneous
copy of that in the Old Testament,
and that the writer has not only copied
wrong, but also counted wrong, so as to
mistake eighteen for fourteen ? Can any
man who glories in the name of Christian
lay his hand on his heart and say it was
my duty to blind my eyes to the fact
and think of it no further ? Many, alas!
�ON BIGOTRY AND PROGRESS
I know would have whispered this to
me; but if anyone were to proclaim it,
the universal conscience of mankind
would call him impudent.
If, however, this first step was right,
was a second step wrong? When I
further discerned that the two genealo
gies in Matthew and Luke were at
variance, utterly irreconcilable, and both,
moreover, nugatory, because they are
genealogies of Joseph, who is denied to
be the father of Jesus—on what ground
of righteousness which I could approve
to God and my conscience could I shut
my eyes to this second fact ?
When forced, against all my preposses
sions, to admit that the first two chapters
of Matthew and the first two chapters of
Luke are mutually destructive,1 would it
have been faithfulness to the God of
Truth or a self-willed love of my own
prejudices if I had said, “ I will not
inquire further, for fear it should unsettle
my faith ”? The reader’s conscience will
witness to me that, on the contrary, I
was bound to say what I did say : “I
must inquire farther, in order that I may
plant the foundations of my faith more
deeply on the rock of truth.”
Having discovered that not all that is
within the canon of the Scripture is in
fallibly correct, and that the human
understanding is competent to arraign
and convict at least some kinds of error
therein contained, where was I to stop ?
And if I am guilty, where did my guilt
begin ? The further I inquired the more
errors crowded upon me—in history, in
chronology, in geography, in physiology,
in geology.1 Did it then at last become
2
1 See Strauss on the infancy of Jesus.
2 My Eclectic reviewer (who is among the
least orthodox and the least uncandid) hence
deduces that I have confounded the two ques
tions, “Does the Bible contain errors in human
science?” and “Is its purely spiritual teaching
true?” It is quite wonderful to me how
educated men can so totally overlook what I
have so plainly and so often written. This very
passage might show the contrary if he had but
quoted the whole paragraph, instead of the
middle sentence only. See also pp. 57, 61, 62, I
68, 69, and 94.
I
119
a duty to close my eyes to the painful
light ? And if I had done so, ought I to
have flattered myself that I was one of
those who, being of the truth, come to
the light that their deeds may be re
proved ?
Moreover, when I had clearly per
ceived that, since all evidence for Chris
tianity must involve moral considerations,
to undervalue the moral faculties of man
kind is to make Christian evidence an
impossibility, and to propagate universal
scepticism; was I then so to distrust
the common conscience as to believe
that the Spirit of God pronounced Jael
blessed for perfidiously murdering her
husband’s trusting friend ? Does any
Protestant reader feel disgust and horror
at the sophistical defences set up for the
massacre of St. Bartholomew and other
atrocities of the wicked Church of Rome?
Let him stop his mouth and hide his
face if he dares to justify the foul crime
of Jael.
Or, when I was thus forced to admit
that the Old Testament praised im
morality as well as enunciated error, and
found, nevertheless, in the writers of the
New Testament no indication that they
were aware of either, but that, on the
contrary, “ the Scripture ” (as the book
was vaguely called) is habitually identi
fied with the infallible “word of God”;
was it wrong in me to suspect that the
writers of the New Testament were them
selves open to mistake ?
When I farther found that Luke not
only claims no infallibility and no inspira
tion, but distinctly assigns human sources
as his means of knowledge, when the
same Luke had already been discovered
to be in irreconcilable variance with
Matthew concerning the infancy of Jesus;
was I sinful in feeling that I had no
longer any guarantee against other pos
sible error in these writers ? Or ought I
to have persisted in obtruding on the
two Evangelists an infallibility of which
Luke shows himself unconscious, which
Matthew nowhere claims, and which I
had demonstrative proof that they did
not both possess? A thorough-going
�120
ON BIGOTRY AND PROGRESS
Bibliolater will have to impeach me as a
sinner on this count.
After Luke and Matthew stood before
me as human writers liable to and con
victed of human error, was there any
reason why I should look on Mark as
more sacred ? And having perceived
all three to participate in the common
superstition derived from Babylon and
the East, traceable in history to its
human source, existing still in Turkey
and Abyssinia—the superstition which
mistakes mania, epilepsy, and other
forms of disease for possession by devils ;
should I have shown love of. truth, or
obstinacy in error, had I refused to judge
freely of these three writers as of any
others who tell similar marvels ? Or was
it my duty to resolve, at any rate and
against evidence, to acquit them of the
charge of superstition and misrepresen
tation ?
I will not trouble the reader with any
further queries. If he has justified me
in his conscience thus far, he will justify
my proceeding to abandon myself to the
results of inquiry. He will feel that the
will cannot, may not, dare not dictate
whereto the inquiries of the understand
ing shall lead; and that to allege that it
ought is to plant the root of insincerity,
falsehood, bigotry, cruelty, and universal
rottenness of soul.
The vice of bigotry has been so
indiscriminately imputed to the religious
that they seem apt to forget that it is a
real sin—a sin which in Christendom
has been, and is, of all sins most fruitful,
most poisonous ; nay, grief of griefs ! it
infects many of the purest and most
lovely hearts, which want strength of
understanding, or are entangled by a
sham theology, with its false facts and
fraudulent canons. But upon all who
mourn for the miseries which bigotry
has perpetrated from the day when
Christians first learned to curse ; upon
all who groan over the persecutions and
wars stirred up by Romanism; upon all
who blush at the overbearing conduct of
Protestants in their successive moments
of brief authority—a sacred duty rests
in this nineteenth century of protesting
against bigotry, not from a love of ease,
but from a spirit of earnest justice.
Like the first Christians, they must
become confessors of the truth; not
obtrusively, boastfully, dogmatically, or
harshly, but “ speaking the truth in
love,” not to be ashamed to avow if they
do not believe all that others profess,
and that they abhor the unrighteous
principle of judging men by an authori
tative creed. The evil of bigotry which
has been most observed is its untam
able injustice, which converted the law
of love into licensed murder or gratuitous
hatred. But I believe a worse evil still
has been the intense reaction of the
human mind against religion for bigotry’s
sake. To the millions of Europe bigotry
has been a confutation of all pious
feeling. So unlovely has religion been
made by it,
Horribili super aspectu mortalibus instans,
that now, as 2,000 years ago, men are
lapsing into Atheism or Pantheism ; and
a totally new “ dispensation ” is wanted
to retrieve the lost reputation of piety.
Two opposite errors are committed by
those who discern that the pretensions
of the national religious systems are
overstrained and unjustifiable. One
class of persons inveigh warmly, bitterly,
rudely, against the bigotry of Christians,
and know not how deep and holy affec
tions and principles, in spite of narrow
ness, are cherished in the bosom of the
Christian society. Hence their invective
is harsh and unsympathising, and appears
so essentially unjust and so ignorant as
to exasperate and increase the very
bigotry which it attacks. An opposite
class know well, and value highly, the
moral influences of Christianity, and
from an intense dread of harming or
losing these do not dare plainly and
publicly to avow their own convictions.
Great numbers of English laymen are
entirely assured that the Old Testament
abounds with error, and that the New is
not always unimpeachable ; yet they only
whisper this; and in the hearing of a
clergyman, who is bound by Articles
�ON BIGOTRY AND PROGRESS
and whom it is indecent to refute, keep
a respectful silence. As for ministers of
religion, these, being called perpetually
into a practical application of the received
doctrine of their Church, are of all men
least able to inquire into any fundamental
errors in that doctrine. Eminent persons
among them will nevertheless aim after
and attain a purer truth than that which
they find established; but such a case
must always be rare and exceptive.
Only by disusing ministerial service can
anyone give fair play to doubts con
cerning the wisdom and truth of that
which he is solemnly ministering ; hence
that friend of Arnold’s was wise in this
world who advised him to take a curacy
in order to settle his doubts concerning
the Trinity. Nowhere from any body of
priests, clergy, or ministers, as an order,
is religious progress to be anticipated
until intellectual creeds are destroyed.
A greater responsibility, therefore, is laid
upon laymen to be faithful and bold in
avowing their convictions.
Yet it is not from the practical
ministers of religion that the great
opposition to religious reform proceeds.
The “secular clergy ” (as the Romanists
oddly call them) were seldom so bigoted
as the “ regulars.” So with us, those
who minister to men in their moral
trials have for the most part a deeper
moral spirit, and are less apt to place
religion in systems of propositions. The
robur legionum of bigotry, I believe, is
found, first, in non-parochial clergy, and,
next, in the anonymous writers for
religious journals and “ conservative ”
newspapers; who too generally1 adopt
a style of which they would be ashamed,
if the names of the writers were attached;
who often seem desirous to make it clear
that it is their trade to carp, insult, or
slander; who assume a tone of omni
science at the very moment when they
show narrowness of heart and judgment.
To such writing those who desire to
1 Any orthodox periodical which dares to
write charitably is at once subjected to fierce
attack as wworthodox.
121
promote earnest thought and tranquil
progress ought anxiously to testify their
deep repugnance. A large part of this
slander and insult is prompted by a base
pandering to the (real or imagined) taste
of the public, and will abate when it
visibly ceases to be gainful.
The law of God’s moral universe, as
known to us, is that of progress. We
trace it from old barbarism to the
methodised Egyptian idolatry, to the
more flexible Polytheism of Syria and
Greece, the poetical Pantheism of
philosophers, and the moral Monotheism
of a few sages. So in Palestine and in
the Bible itself we see, first of all, the
image-worship of Jacob’s family, then the
incipient elevation of Jehovah above all
other Gods by Moses, the practical
establishment of the worship of Jehovah
alone by Samuel, the rise of spiritual
sentiment under David and the Psalmists,
the more magnificent views of Hezekiah’s
prophets, finally in the Babylonish
captivity the new tenderness assumed
by that second Isaiah and the later
Psalmists. But ceremonialism more and
more encrusted the restored nation, and
Jesus was needed to spur and stab the
conscience of his contemporaries, and
recall them to more spiritual perceptions ;
to proclaim a coming “kingdom of
heaven,” in which should be gathered
all the children of God that were
scattered abroad, where the law of love
should reign, and no one should dictate
to another. Alas ! that this great move
ment had its admixture of human
imperfection. After this, Stephen the
protomartyr, and Paul, once his perse
cutor, had to expose the emptiness of all
external sanctifications, and free the
world from the law of Moses. Lty to
this point all Christians approve of
progress, but at this point they want to
arrest it.
The arguments of those who resist
progress are always the same, whether
it be Pagans against Hebrews, Jews
against Christians, Romanists against
�122
ON BIGOTRY AND PROGRESS
Protestants, or modern Christians against
the advocates of a higher spiritualism.
Each established system assures its
votaries that now at length they have
attained a final perfection, that their
foundations are irremovable; progress
up to that position was a duty, beyond it
is a sin. Each displaces its predecessor
by superior goodness, but then each
fights against his successor by odium,
contempt, exclusions, and (when possible)
by violences. Each advances mankind
one step, and forbids them to take a
second. Yet, if it be admitted that in
the earlier movement the party of
progress was always right, confidence
that the case is now reversed is not easy
to justify.
Every persecuting church has numbered
among its members thousands of pious
people, so grateful for its services, or so
attached to its truth, as to think those
impious who desire something purer and
more perfect. Herein we may discern
that every nation and class is liable to
the peculiar illusion of over-esteeming the
sanctity of its ancestral creed. It is as
much our duty to beware of this illusion
as of any other. All know how easily
our patriotism may degenerate into an
unjust repugnance to foreigners, and
that the more intense it is the greater
the need of antagonistic principles. So,
also, the real excellences of our religion
may only so much the more rivet us in a
wrong aversion to those who do not
acknowledge its authority or perfection.
It is probable that Jesus desired a
state of things in which all who
worship God spiritually should have
an acknowledged and conscious union.
It is clear that Paul longed, above all
things, to overthrow the “ wall of
partition ” which separated two families
of sincere worshippers. Yet we now see
stronger and higher walls of partition
than ever between the children of the
same God—with a new law of the letter,
more entangling to the conscience and
more depressing to the mental energies
than any outward service of the Levitical
law. The cause of all this is to be found
in the claim of Messiahship for Jesus.
This gave a premium to crooked logic,
in order to prove that the prophecies
meant what they did not mean and
could not mean. This perverted men’s
notions of right and wrong, by imparting
factitious value to a literary and his
torical proposition — “Jesus is the
Messiah ”—as though that were or could
be religion. This gave merit to credulity,
and led pious men to extol it as a brave
and noble deed when anyone over
powered the scruples of good sense, and
scolded them down as the wisdom of
this world, which is hostile to God.
This put the Christian Church into an
essentially false position by excluding
from it in the first century all the men
of most powerful and cultivated under
standing among the Greeks and Romans.
This taught Christians to boast of the
hostility of the wise and prudent, and in
every controversy ensured that the party
which had the merit of mortifying reason
most signally should be victorious.
Hence the downward career of the
Church into base superstition was deter
mined and inevitable from her very
birth; nor was any improvement possible
until a reconciliation should be effected
between Christianity and the cultivated
reason which it had slighted and
insulted.
Such reconciliation commenced, I
believe, from the tenth century, when
the Latin moralists began to be studied
as a part of a theological course. It was
continued with still greater results when
Greek literature became accessible to
Churchmen. Afterwards the physics of
Galileo and of Newton began not only
to undermine numerous superstitions,
but to give to men a confidence in the
reality of abstract truth, and in our
power to attain it in other domains than
that of geometrical demonstration. This,
together with the philosophy of Locke,
was taken up into Christian thought, and
political toleration was the first fruit.
Beyond that point English religion has
hardly gone, for, in spite of all that has
since been done in Germany for the
�ON BIGOTRY AND PROGRESS
true and accurate exposition of the Bible
and for the scientific establishment of
the history of its component books, we
still remain deplorably ignorant here of
these subjects. In consequence, English
Christians do not know that they are
unjust and utterly unreasonable in
expecting thoughtful men to abide by
the creed of their ancestors. Nor,
indeed, is there any more stereotyped
and approved calumny than the declara
tion so often emphatically enunciated
from the pulpit, that unbelief in the
Christian miracles is the fruit of a wicked
heart and of a soul enslaved to sin.
Thus do estimable and well-meaning
men, deceived and deceiving one
another, utter base slander in open
church, where it is indecorous to reply
to them, and think that they are bravely
delivering a religious testimony.
No difficulty is encountered so long as
the inward and the outward rule of
religion agree, by whatever names men
call them—the spirit and the Word, or
reason and the Church, or conscience
and authority. None need settle which
of the two rules is the greater so long as
the results coincide ; in fact, there is no
controversy, no struggle, and also pro
bably no progress. A child cannot
guess whether father or mother has the
higher authority until discordant com
mands are given; but then commences
the painful necessity of disobeying one
in order to obey the other. So, also, the
great and fundamental controversies of
religion arise only when a discrepancy
is detected between the inward and the
outward rule, and then there are only
two possible solutions. If the spirit
within us and the Bible (or Church)
without us are at variance, we must either
follow the inward and disregard the
outward law, else we must renounce the
inward law and obey the outward. The
Romanist bids us to obey the Church
and crush our inward judgment; the
spiritualist, on the contrary, follows his
inward law, and, when necessary, defies
Church, Bible, or any other authority.
The orthodox Protestant is better and
123
truer than the Romanist, because the
Protestant is not, like the latter, consis
tent in error, but often goes right; still,
he is inconsistent as to this point.
Against the spiritualist he uses Romanist
principles, telling him that he ought to
submit his “proud reason ” and accept
the “ Word of God ” as infallible, even
though it appear to him to contain
errors. But against the Romanist the
same disputant avows spiritualist prin
ciples, declaring that, since “the Church”
appears to him to be erroneous, he
dares not to accept it as infallible.
What with the Romanist he before
called “proud reason,” he now desig
nates as conscience, understanding, and
perhaps the Holy Spirit. He refused to
allow the right of the spiritualist to urge
that the Bible contains contradictions
and immoralities, and therefore cannot
be received; but he claims a full right
to urge that the Church has justified
contradictions and immoralities, and
therefore is not to be submitted to. The
perception that this position is incon
sistent, and, to him who discerns the
inconsistency, dishonest, is every year
driving Protestants to Rome. And in
principle there are only two possible
religions—the personal and the cor
porate, the spiritual and the external. I
do not mean to say that in Romanism
there is nothing but what is corporate
and external, for that is impossible to
human nature; but that this is what the
theory of their argument demands, and
their doctrine of implicit1 (or virtual)
faith entirely supersedes intellectual per
ception as well as intellectual conviction.
1 Explicit faith in a doctrine means that we
understand what the propositions are, and
accept them. But if through blunder we accept
a wrong set of propositions so as to believe a
false doctrine, we nevertheless have implicit (or
virtual) faith in the true one if only we say from
the heart, “Whatever the Church believes I
believe.”
Thus a person who, through
blundering, believes in Sabellianism or Arianism,
which the Church has condemned, is regarded
to have virtual faith in Trinitarianism, and all
the “merit” of that faith, because of his good
will to submit to the Church, which is the really
saving virtue.
�T24
ON BIGOTRY AND PROGRESS
The theory of each Church is the force
which determines to what centre the
whole shall gravitate. However men
may talk of spirituality, yet let them
once enact that the freedom of indi
viduals shall be absorbed in a corporate
conscience, and you find that the nar
rowest heart and meanest intellect sets
the rule of conduct for the whole body.
It has been often observed how the
controversies of the Trinity and Incarna
tion depended on the niceties of the
Greek tongue. I do not know whether
it has ever been inquired what confusion
of thought was shed over Gentile Chris
tianity from its very origin by the imper
fection of the New Testament Greek.
The single Greek1 word 7r«rri$ needs
probably three translations into our far
more accurate tongue—viz., belief, trust,
faith; but ’ especially belief and faith
have important contrasts. Belief is
purely intellectual, faith is properly
spiritual. Hence the endless contro
versy about justification by -terr is, which
has so vexed Christians; hence the
slander cast on unbelievers or misbelievers
(when they can no longer be burned or
exiled), as though they were faithless
and infidels.
But nothing of this ought to be
allowed to blind us to the truly spiritual
and holy developments of historical
Christianity; much less make us revert
to the old Paganism or pantheism which
it supplanted. The great doctrine on
which all practical religion depends—
the doctrine which nursed the infancy
and youth of human nature—is “the
sympathy of God with the perfection of
individual man.” Among pagans this
was so marred by the imperfect charac
ters ascribed to the Gods, and the dis
honourable fables told concerning them,
that the philosophers who undertook to
prune religion too generally cut away the
root by alleging1 that God was mere
2
intellect and wholly destitute of affec
tions. But happily among the Hebrews
the purity of God’s character was vindi
cated ; and with the growth of conscience
in the highest minds of the nation the
ideal image of God shone brighter and
brighter. The doctrine of his sympathy
was never lost, and from the Jews it
passed into the Christian Church. This
doctrine, applied to that part of man
which is divine, is the wellspring of
repentance and humility, of thankful
ness, love, and joy. It reproves and it
comforts; it stimulates and animates.
This it is which led the Psalmist to cry,
“Whom have I in heaven but thee?
there is none upon earth that I desire
beside thee.” This has satisfied pro
phets, Apostles, and martyrs with God as
their portion. This has been passed
from heart to heart for full three thou
sand years, and has produced bands of
countless saints. Let us not cut off our
sympathies from those who have learnt
to sympathise with God; nor be blind to
that spiritual good which they have,
even if it be more or less sensibly tinged
with intellectual error. In fact, none
but God knows how many Christian
hearts are really pure from bigotry. I
cannot refuse to add my testimony, such
as it is, to the effect that the majority is
always true-hearted. As one tyrant with
a small band of unscrupulous tools
manages to use the energies of a whole
nation of kind and well-meaning people
for cruel purposes, so the bigoted few
who work out an evil theory with consis
tency often succeed in using the masses
of simple-minded Christians as their
tools for oppression. Let us not think
more harshly than is necessary of the
anathematising Churches. Those who
curse us with their lips often love us in
their hearts. A very deep fountain of
tenderness can mingle with their bigotry
itself; and with tens of thousands the
evil belief is a dead form, the spiritual
1 tSiK.a.i.03vwr] (righteousness), Scad-qKT] (cove
nant, testament), Xapis (grace), are all terms
pregnant with fallacy.
2 Horace and Cicero speak the mind of their
educated contemporaries in saying that “we
ought to pray to God only for external blessings,
but trust to our own efforts for a pure and tran
quil soul ”—a singular reversing of spiritual
religion !
�ON BIGOTRY AND PROGRESS
love is a living reality. Whether Chris
tians like it or not, we must needs look
to historians, to linguists, to physiologists,
to philosophers, and generally to men of
cultivated understanding, to gain help in
all those subjects which are prepos
terously called theology ; but for devo
tional aids, for pious meditations, for
inspiring hymns, for purifying and glow
ing thoughts, we have still to wait upon
that succession of kindling souls, among
whom may be named with special honour
David and Isaiah, Jesus and Paul,
Augustine, a Kempis, Fenelon, Leigh
ton, Baxter, Doddridge, Watts, the two
Wesleys, and Channing.
Religion was created by the inward
instincts of the soul; it had afterwards
to be pruned and chastened by the
sceptical understanding. For its perfec
tion the co-operation of these two parts
of man is essential. While religious
persons dread critical and searching
thought, and critics despise instinctive
religion, each side remains imperfect and
curtailed.
It is a complaint often made by reli
gious historians, that no Church can
sustain its spirituality unimpaired through
two generations, and that in the third
a total irreligion is apt to supervene.
Sometimes indeed the transitions are
abrupt from an age of piety to an age of
dissoluteness.
The liability to such
lamentable revulsions is plainly due to
some insufficiency in the religion to meet
all the wants of human nature. To scold
at that nature is puerile, and implies
125
an ignorance of the task which religion
undertakes. To lay the fault on the
sovereign will of God, who has “ withheld
his grace ” from the grandchildren of the
pious, .might be called blasphemy, if we
were disposed to speak harshly. The
fault lies undoubtedly in the fact that
practical devoutness and free thought
stand apart in unnatural schism. But
surely the age is ripe for something better
—for a religion which shall combine the
tenderness, humility, and disinterested
ness that are the glory of the purest
Christianity, with that activity of intellect,
untiring pursuit of truth, and strict
adherence to impartial principle which
the schools of modern science embody.
When a spiritual Church has its senses
exercised to discern good and evil, judges
of right and wrong by an inward power,
proves all things and holds fast that
which is good, fears no truth, but rejoices
in being corrected, intellectually as well
as morally—it will not be liable to be
“ carried to and fro ” by shifting winds of
doctrine. It will indeed have move
ment—namely, a steady onward one—as
the schools of science have had, since
they left off to dogmatise, and approached
God’s world as learners; but it will lay
aside disputes of words, eternal vacilla
tions, mutual illwill and dread of new
light, and will be able without hypocrisy
to proclaim “ peace on earth and good
will towards men,” even towards those
who reject its beliefs and sentiments
concerning “ God and his glory.”
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Victorian Blogging
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A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library & Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span>
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Phases of faith : or, Passages from the history of my creed
Description
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Edition: 2nd ed.
Place of publication: London
Collation: 128 p. : ill. (front. port.) ; 22 cm.
Series title: R.P.A. Cheap Reprints
Series number: No. 31
Notes: Publisher's advertisements on pp. 127-128.||(HIS) First published in 1850. List of R.P.A. publications on pp. 127-128. Select list of Swan Sonnenschien & Co. publications inside back cover; Watts & Co. publications on back page. Printed in double columns. Part of the NSS pamphlet collection.
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Newman, Francis William [1805-1897]
Benn, Alfred William
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Watts & Co.
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1853 (1907)
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RA933
N514
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Theism
Faith
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Text
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English
Faith and Reason-Christianity
NSS