\\ / BR 45 -B35 1879 Bampton lectures Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2008 with funding from Microsoft Corporation https://archive.org/details/foundationsoffai00wace THE ‘BAMPTON LECTURES FOR M.DCCC.LXXIX. az By the same Author. CHRISTIANITY AND MORALITY, OR THE CORRESPONDENCE OF THE GOSPEL WITH THE MORAL NATURE OF MAN. THE BOYLE LECTURES FOR 1874 AND 1875. Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s. PickrriInac & Co., London. THE FOUNDATIONS OF FAITH CONSIDERED IN EIGHT SERMONS PREACHED BEFORE CHEOUNTIVERSITY OF OXFORD IN THE YEAR M.DCCC.LXXIxX AT THE LECTURE \ ’ FOUNDED BY JOHN BAMPTON, M.A./-' CANON OF SALISBURY BY HENRY “WACE M.A. CHAPLAIN OF LINCOLN’S INN PROFESSOR OF ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY IN KING’S COLLEGE LONDON London PICKERING AND CO. 196 PICCADILLY 1880 ‘For Iam not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ: for it is the Power of God unto Salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek. ‘For therein is the Righteousness of God revealed from Faith to Faith: as it is written, The Just shall live by Faith.”—The Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans, ch. i. vv. 16, 17. INSCRIBED TO THE REV. CHARLES HOLE B.A. LECTURER ON ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY IN KING’S COLLEGE LONDON AS A TOKEN OF GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION DPDDARAAg A. ppph— -pri 4444, pp PROPERTY or “Sag ) YWER TAN ALAAN AL AUALN HeU, AUG 1860 yvYvyY vw y {\.¥ a na A AU LO) yt Nw Bone goca it See EXTRACT row FROM THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF THE LATE REV. JOHN BAMPTON, CANON OF SALISBURY. “T give and bequeath my Lands and Estates to the “ Chancellor, Masters, and Scholars of the University of “ Oxford for ever, to have and to hold all and singular the “said Lands or Estates upon trust, and to the intents and “ purposes hereinafter mentioned ; that is to say, I will and “ appoint that the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Ox- “ ford for the time being shall take and receive all the rents, “issues, and profits thereof, and (after all taxes, reparations, “and necessary deductions made) that he pay all the re- * mainder to the endowment of eight Divinity Lecture Ser- “ mons, to be established for ever in the said University, and “ to be performed in the manner following : “JT direct and appoint, that, upon the first Tuesday in “ Easter Term, a Lecturer be yearly chosen by the Heads ‘ of Colleges only, and by no others, in the room adjoining “to the Printing-House, between the hours of ten in the “ morning and two in the afternoon, to preach eight Divinity “ Lecture Sermons, the year following, at St. Mary’s in Ox- “ ford, between the commencement of the last month in Lent “ Term, and the end of the third week in Act Term, o> fer a x EXTRACT FROM CANON BAMPTON’S WILL. ‘Also I direct and appoint, that the eight Divinity Lecture ‘‘ Sermons shall be preached upon either of the following Sub- “ jects—to confirm and establish the Christian Faith, and to “ econfute all heretics and schismatics—upon the divine au- “ thority of the holy Scriptures—upon the authority of the “ writings of the primitive Fathers, as to the faith and prac- “ tice of the primitive Church—upon the Divinity of our Lord “and Saviour Jesus Christ—upon the Divinity of the Holy “ Ghost—upon the Articles of the Christian Faith, as compre- “ hended in the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds. “‘ Also I direct, that thirty copies of the eight Divinity Lec- “ture Sermons shall be always printed, within two months “ after they are preached ; and one copy shall be given to the “Chancellor of the University, and one copy to the Head of “ every College, and one copy to the Mayor of the city of “‘ Oxford, and one copy to be put into the Bodleian Library ; “and the expense of printing them shall be paid out of the “revenue of the Land or Estates given for establishing the “ Divinity Lecture Sermons; and the Preacher shall not be “paid, nor be entitled to the revenue, before they are “ printed. « Also I direct and appoint, that no person shall be quali- “ fied to preach the Divinity Lecture Sermons, unless he hath “taken the degree of Master of Arts at least, in one of the “two Universities of Oxford or Cambridge; and that the “same person shall never preach the Divinity Lecture Ser- ““ mons twice.” PREFACE. Tere are two general purposes towards which at- tempts ‘to confirm and establish the Christian Faith’ may be directed. The one is to show that the truths and facts it reveals are consistent with the conclusions of Reason and Science. The other is to assert the positive grounds on which our Faith rests, and to enforce its authority. The latter is the purpose which the present course of Lectures is designed to serve. It appeared to the author that such an attempt was peculiarly neces- sary at the present day. In consequence of the pro- minence of scientific habits of thought, there is grave danger of insufficient weight being allowed to the dis- tinct and independent claims of the principle of Faith. But it is to Faith that the message of the Gospel is primarily addressed, and upon its vitality the life of the Church chiefly depends. The author has accordingly en- deavoured to illustrate the necessity and supremacy of this principle of our nature, and to vindicate its opera- tion in those successive acts of Faith by which the Christian Creed, as confessed by the Reformed Church of England, has been constructed. He has endeavoured to exhibit the chief realities of spiritual experience to which that Xl Preface. Creed appeals, under the conviction that in proportion as these great facts of life and history are apprehended and kept in view will the authority of our Faith be esta- blished. The present work, therefore, is not, properly speaking, of an apologetic character. It is an attempt to exhibit, in some measure, the supreme claim of the Gospel upon our allegiance; and it endeavours to show, not merely that the Christian Creed may reasonably be be- lieved, but that we are under a paramount obligation to submit to it. In the later Lectures the argument requires reference to sources not readily accessible to general readers, such as the writings of some of the chief Fathers of the Church and the earlier Latin works of Luther. The author has consequently endeavoured to consult the convenience of such readers by quoting, in the Notes, passages of suffi- cient length to justify and illustrate his statements; and with the same view he has printed English translations side by side with the original text. CONTEN ES. LECTURE I. THE OFFICE OF FAITH. HEBREWS XI. I, 2. Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. For by it the elders obtained a good report. . p- 1 LECTURE: 1 THE FAITH OF THE CONSCIENCE. Romans 1. 28. And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient. . , ' : p27 LECTURE III. THE WITNESS TO REVELATION. HEBREWS I. I, 2. God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son . Pp: 55 X1v Contents. LECQTUGH “Iv. THE FAITH OF THE OLD COVENANT, IsAIAH XLII. 5, 6. Thus saith God the Lord, He that created the heavens, and stretched them out; He that spread forth the earth, and that which cometh out of it; He that giveth breath unto the people upon it, and spirit to them that walk therein: I the Lord have called thee in righteousness, and will hold thine hand, and will keep thee. p. 82 LPECTURE V. OUR LORD'S DEMAND FOR FAITH. St. MATTHEW XI. 25-27. At that time Jesus answered and said, I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father: for so it seemed good in Thy sight. All things are delivered unto me of my Father: and no man knoweth the Son, but the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son and he to whomsover the Son will reveal Him. . p. III LECTURE Vi THE FAITH OF THE EARLY CHURCH. ACTS V. 29-32. Then Peter and the other Apostles answered and said, We ought to obey God rather than men. The God of our fathers raised wp Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree. Him hath God exalted with His right hand to be a Prince and a Saviour, for to give repentance to Israel, and forgiveness of sins. And we are His witnesses of these things ; and so is also the Holy Ghost, whom God hath given to them that obey Him. ; : : _) peas Contents. XV ERCTURE. Vir THE FAITH OF THE REFORMATION. ROMANS VIII. 15. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. . , : : ; ‘ : ; = Pe LOR LECTURE VIII. THE FAITH OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. EPHESIANS IV. 13-15. Till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, wnto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ: that we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive ; but speaking the truth in love, may grow up into Him in all things, which is the head, even Christ: from whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in love. . ; : : : =) p10 APPENDIX, containing Notes anp ILLUSTRATIONS . '4 op 225 pADLAADAAA’ » bE ph pm PROPERTY On YOAV E Ya UNGY: Nie ¢ (‘ MOAAKY we « A ‘i A AN Ry jee) \ / ew. | , \ LY, AUG 18s0 \3 Wvyy 4 i trey et a hiss, Oe aN ES A Ad Ra Cyl iG 1 Bp b “a AA A A b lobar «7 ge ARE: ee NM tet LECTURE. Looe =} THE OFFICE OF FAITH. HEBREWS xi. 1, 2. Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. For by it the elders obtained a good report. ‘| HESE words, without amounting to a definition of faith, express its most striking characteristic in practice—its power of giving a substantial reality to the objects of hope, and a verification to the invisible. It must be felt by every one with what truth and vividness they describe the spiritual life of the Jewish people, and the animating principle of the saints of the Old Testament. It was a life based on the invisible, and directed towards an obscure and improbable future. But that invisible world was more real to the elders of Israel than any of the visible things around them, and that future was more certain than that the sun and moon would fulfil their ordinary course. The course of nature, indeed, had been interfered with again and again in their behalf. For them the earth had been shaken, the sea had fled, the heavens had been darkened. To their view no physical order was unalterable, B 2 The Office of Faith. | Lecr. and the external world could be moulded at any moment to the purposes of the divine will. Though flesh and heart failed them, though the earth was moved and the mountains were carried into the midst of the sea, the Lord of hosts was with them and the God of Jacob was their refuge. On Him they lavished a passion of love, of devotion, of trust, such as is only evoked by those intense affections, under which everything in the world fades and becomes insignificant in comparison with one beloved person. As the visible was thus eclipsed by the in- visible, so was the present by the future. Few in number, despised, conquered, exiled, crushed, the Jews grasped with unshaken tenacity the assurance that they were reserved for a glorious destiny; and in their darkest hours they never doubted that the Messiah would appear to deliver them, and to assert His absolute sway. Their literature was prophecy, and their very history embodied the types of the future. And all this was founded on simple faith. They had received certain promises, handed down to them from the fathers of their race; and on those sacred words, few and fragile as they must have seemed to other eyes, they rested the whole edifice of their spiritual, their moral, and even of their physical life. The history of the Christian Church has been of precisely similar character. Its foundations were laid in an exercise of the same faculty—the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Ei The Office of Faith. 3 Its expectations have been at once more distant and more near than those of the Jewish elders—more distant, because more and more disengaged, as time went on, from the hope of an immediate return of our Lord in power; more near, because illuminated from the first with a clearer vision of life and immor- tality beyond the grave. But the prophetical element in the New Testament is perhaps still stronger than in the Old. The parables of our Lord constitute a series of prophecies respecting the fate of the Jewish nation, and the development of His Church. They have since been marvellously verified, but in the early days of Christianity they made an immense demand on the faith of His followers. The Epistles of St. Paul are similarly instinct with prophecy. If he applies the axe to the root of the ancient Jewish polity, he is not content to fall back on simple moral and spiritual convictions, but he plants his foot on the firm assurance of the establishment of a new kingdom by Christ, and of its future revelation, and he looks forward as much as the writer of the Apocalypse to a new heaven and a new earth. Similarly the conviction of things unseen is perhaps still more striking in the Christian Church than in the Jewish. For the unseen God of the Old Testa- ment was a God who by His very nature was invisible, and faith was the only instrument by which He could be apprehended. But the Saviour in whom Chris- tians believe has once been seen and heard, He has worn flesh and blood like ourselves, and in that flesh B 2 4 The Office of Faith. [ Lect. and blood He passed from earth; and we believe ourselves to be in union and communion with a human nature like our own, as well as with a divine nature. And as with the Jews so with us—this whole life of faith, which has animated apostles, martyrs, saints, has been sustained by the promises and assurances of men who, in most respects, were of hike passions with ourselves. The witness of a few Apostles and Evangelists constitutes the basis on which the whole fabric of Christendom has been reared. They bear testimony to the most stupend- ous facts, to the vastest visions of the future. They claim from us, if the occasion should arise, the sacrifice of all that in this life men hold dear. They claim it, and the noblest souls who have lived since their time have yielded to the demand. Such are the familiar, though marvellous, charac- teristics of Jewish and Christian life. But it is im- portant to bear in mind that a characteristic the same in principle marks the life of other nations, and is at the root of other religions. In all alike we observe a similar supremacy of the faculty of faith. The most conspicuous of all examples is that of Ma- hometanism. There also the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen, have furnished the animating motives for a display of energy, of devotion, of valour, of policy, of contempt of life, of tenacity of purpose, which has at least constituted one of the most momentous forces in human history. At this moment, even in its decay, Lay The Office of Faith. 5 the Mahometan world confronts the Christian na- tions with a desperate resistance ; and statesmen are perplexed how to deal with its reserve of en- thusiasm. All this immense force has been created by a single man—a man who had no antecedent expectations to appeal to, who called no witnesses in his support, and who made no other sacrifices for his cause than those which are repeatedly made by other great conquerors and adventurers. He started with an appeal to one great truth. On the influence thus gained he built up an elaborate system of worship, of morality, and of polity ; and by virtue of his sole word and authority he has secured its acceptance, with absolute submission of body and soul, by vast numbers and successive generations of the human race. On the assurances of this one man, and on those alone, has the portentous fabric of Mahomet- anism been reared ; and at this moment the assertion ‘There is no God but God, and Mahomet is the prophet of God,’ suffices as the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen, to some of the most vigorous races on the earth. Turn to the older religions of the Hast and you observe the like spectacle. Buddhism, which is said to command the allegiance of a larger portion of mankind than any other creed, is similarly based on absolute faith in the spiritual intuitions of a single man. Doubtless, like Mahomet, he appealed to great facts in human nature, and to great truths in the human conscience. His appreciation of those facts 6 The Office of Faith. [Lucr. and truths afforded him the credentials with which he commenced his mission. But starting from this ground, he and his followers elaborated a vast system of religious and moral philosophy, which for more than twenty centuries has governed the daily life, the future hopes, the whole physical, moral, and mental constitution of countless millions of our race. In the Buddha’s teaching, confirmed by the assurances of the sages who succeeded him, myriads of souls find the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. In reliance on this faith, the whole visible world becomes simply an unreality to be escaped from, and men follow their guide enthusiastically into an existence so intangible, that there is a dispute whether it be real exist- ence at all. The case is substantially the same with that ancient religion out of which Buddhism sprang. No matter how it arose, or how it may be adapted to certain peculiarities of the Hindoo mind, in point of fact it has for many generations rested on authority. By virtue of faith in that authority, the things not seen and the things hoped for are far more real to the mass of Hindoos than the things seen and the things possessed. Our power, our knowledge, our command of nature may be gradually making an impression on their minds, and compelling them to recognize the reality and inherent life of the world around them; but we are encountered in the first instance with the indifference of a faith convinced of its own superiority. The visible world I.] The Office of Faith. 7 may belong to us, but the invisible belongs to them, and in this trust they are capable of the most reso- lute abandonment of all that is held precious in this life. Similar considerations would be suggested if we turned to China, where the principle of authority, which is correlative with that of faith, is perhaps more powerful than in any other human community. In this case, indeed, its sphere of action is mainly confined to the present life ; but it. involves none the less the same capacity for trust and for submission. These, moreover, are but the more stupendous instances of a principle which obtains in every race and nation in which there is any organic life or moral vigour. Review the course of history from the earliest times, or survey the face of the world at the present day, and you find the same characteristics everywhere and at all times predominant — the substance which is possessed by things hoped for, the intense conviction which prevails in the reality of things not seen, and the implicit trust which has been reposed in the great teachers and leaders of mankind. At this moment it is faith which is at once the great organizing and the great dividing power in the world. Mahometanism, Brahmanism, Buddhism, Confucianism — these are the governing forces of the various polities and civilizations which, in their world-wide mission, Englishmen: have to encounter. It is under the sway of these creeds that vast masses of human beings are welded together like so many armies, that they offer to our faith, 8 The Office of Faith. [Lecr. our science and our arms, so firm a front, and that they remain almost impenetrable long after all physical barriers have been surmounted. Even within the pale of Christianity the variations of faith between the Roman, the Greek, and the Protestant Churches create divergences in sympathy, in tone of thought, in the objects and general order of life, which are among the most potent political in- fluences. The substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen—this, as a matter of fact, has been and still is the most powerful and universal force in the world of human nature, and in Faith has been found the mightiest influence to which men have ever appealed. There is something profoundly touching, as well as amazing, in the spectacle thus presented to us. We behold millions of men and women, most of them struggling painfully under physical burdens, amidst moral and mental perplexities, with but a brief span of life before them, and no certain knowledge of the world beyond, yet trusting their souls and their whole present and future to the guidance of a man like themselves, whose claims to their allegiance must in great measure rest on his own word and assurance. In reliance on him they are ready to meet death and torture themselves ; they are content to train their children to follow the same guidance; until the hopes and interests of countless generations have been hazarded on the promises of a single prophet or sage. There would seem to have been no limit to the trust- FE The Office of Farth. 9 fulness of human nature ; and the responsibility of those who have appealed to this trust, and who in some instances have abused it, is proportionately tremendous. Such, however, are the facts which meet our observation if we contemplate life on a large scale. The elementary principle at work is everywhere the same. Though the faith of Christians is vitally distinguished, by virtue of its objects, and by their reaction on itself, from the faith exercised in other religions, it would seem gratuitous to suppose that it employs an essentially different faculty. The description of faith by the sacred writer, that it is ‘the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen,’ seems clearly to apply to all those creeds to which reference has been made, and covers the whole ground of human action in the moral and religious sphere. Upon faith, in this general sense of the word, every civilization has been based, and in proportion as such faith has been weakened has every civilization tottered to its fall. An universal instinct has taught statesmen to recognize in the maintenance of this principle the indispensable basis of the social and political organizations over which they have presided. In a word, it has been by the invisible rather than by the visible, by the future rather than by the present, by authority rather than by reason, by faith rather than by sight, that, as a matter of fact, mankind, as a whole, has been go- verned, has been organized, and has advanced to its 10 The Office of Fatth. [ Lecr. present condition. The part played by reason in this marvellous course of development has, indeed, been momentous, and has been second only to that of faith. But regarding history as a whole, the part of reason must be admitted to have been a secondary one. It is faith which has grasped whole nations and ages within its sway, and which has determined the main principles of their conduct and their destiny. We are forced, however, at the present day, to confront a view of our position which offers a com- plete contrast to that suggested by this survey. The most brilliant achievements of our century have been its scientific advances. They have been so continu- ous, SO surprising, so comprehensive, and so benefi- cent, that they have naturally fascinated, and almost absorbed, the attention of our generation; until the process by which they have been reached, and the temper of mind they foster, tend to assert a predo- minance over all others. Few things are more deserv- ing of observation in the course of human thought, and in the development of human nature, than what may be called the lack of balance with which they have generally been accompanied. As one principle after another comes into prominence, as one faculty of man’s nature after another asserts itself, it overbears all others for a time ; it becomes exaggerated, and the whole mind receives a disproportionate development ; until some forgotten truth reasserts itself, and then perhaps a new disproportion is created, It would be q,] The Office of Faith. 11 strange indeed if, under the intellectual excitement which scientific discoveries have aroused in the present day, we had escaped a danger from which every previous age has suffered. But however this may be, there can be no doubt of the fact that the habits fostered by scientific thought have of late been acquiring a predominance which is destructive, not so much of particular doctrines of the Christian creed, as of the essential principle of faith as characterised in the text. Science, in its strict application, admits no assurance of things only hoped for, and can allow no conviction of things incapable of being tested by the senses. Its claim at every step is for verification —verification, as is constantly insisted, by plain and practical tests. All else is to be put aside—not indeed, if we allow for some glaring exceptions, with disrespect, or with intolerance—but still to be put aside. A general discredit is quietly and deliberately cast upon the whole fabric of our creed as something which, whatever may be said for it, has no adequate basis on which to rest. Much has of late years been heard of the conflict between faith and science ; and however that conflict may be appeased on particular points, there remains, it is to be feared, that cardinal opposition in point of principle to which the con- sideration now in view directs our attention. It is of course a commonplace to assert that there can be no real collision between the truths of religion and those of physical science; and it is equally a commonplace that there can be no real incompati- 12 The Office of Faith. [ Lecr. bility between the scientific spirit and the spirit of faith. But there is nothing inconsistent with this nor anything in the least degree disrespectful to science, in urging that it is not only possible, but too common for one faculty and one mental habit to be so developed as to overbear others, and to do injustice to them. It is this, there is great reason to apprehend, which is the case at the present moment. Science, to use a familiar expression, ‘is in the air’—science in the special and limited sense in which the word is now chiefly understood; and there is a tendency to judge of all things on purely scientific grounds. It is positively asserted, or tacitly assumed, that Faith, as we have contem- plated it in the general course of human history, is unjustifiable as a principle of action, and that the welfare of mankind is to be pursued by rigidly restricting our beliefs within the limits of that which can be sensibly verified. There is, indeed, one famous philosophical system of modern thought, that of Positivism, which is exclusively based upon this principle. But this is only another in- stance of the disposition of the French genius to embody in a sharp and logical shape ideas which, in a less definite form, are moulding the thought of the age. It has been said that the business of philosophy is to answer three questions: ‘ What can I know?’ ‘What ought I to do?’ ‘For what may I hope?’ But these three questions, as has been recently asserted by one of the most 1 The Office of Faith. 13 distinguished natural philosophers of the present day*, ‘resolve themselves in the long run into the first ; for rational expectation and moral action are alike based upon beliefs; and a belief is void of justification unless its subject-matter lies within the boundaries of possible knowledge, and unless its evidence satisfies the conditions which experience imposes as a guarantee of credibility. In this characteristic statement of the scientific principle there is much ambiguity ; but any doubt as to its practical tendency in the hands of modern philo- sophers must be removed by the consequences de- duced from it by its author, who is led to give his assent to the sceptical conclusions of Hume respecting our belief in immortality and in God». Experience shows, in fact, that such a principle, in proportion as it is rigidly applied, tends not so much to produce a direct conflict with our Christian faith, as to under- mine the grounds on which we adhere to it. So far as our creed is beyond the reach of verification, so far as it rests upon the mere words and assertions of its founder, so far as it is a matter of trust and not of sight, its hold upon men’s minds is liable to be shaken by the undue predominance of these habits of scientific thought. There would seem something very astonishing in the challenge thus thrown down to that which, as a Professor Huxley on Hume (Macmillan and Co., 1879), p. 48. See Note 1. b See the same book, pp. 157 and 172; and the next Lecture. 14 The Office of Faith. [ Lect. we have seen, has been the predominant disposition of human nature in all ages and in all countries. But in proportion to the boldness and thoroughness of a challenge is sometimes its temporary success, and the perplexity which has been created in the present instance is in many ways apparent. One important illustration of the influence in question is conspicuous in modern theology. ‘The extreme rationalistic school represents, of course, a deliberate predetermination to reduce every doctrine of re- velation, and every element of religious life as exhibited in the Scriptures, within the limits of natural knowledge. But far short of this, there is a strong temptation among us to what may be designated. as a minimising theology—a_ theology tending more and more to throw into the back- ground everything which is mysterious and_per- plexing in our faith, and to insist solely on that moral part of it, which commends itself to the enlight- ened conscience of an educated society, trained and stimulated by eighteen centuries of Christian teach- ing and example. There is a disposition to reduce within the smallest possible limits that which is said to be essential in Christianity, so as to diminish, as much as may be, the appearance of its requiring our assent to truths beyond the range of our natural faculties. Now it may be that this tendency, like other disproportionate developments of thought, may not be without its advantages in drawing increased i] The Office of Faith. 15 attention to the particular aspect of truth which it exaggerates, and in establishing a firmer recognition of that which may be regarded as the natural element in the Christian faith. But so far as it is an endeavour to render the demand upon faith less severe, and its conflict with the scientific spirit less striking, the attempt not only fails, but to some extent even aggravates the difficulty. For suppose a creed reduced to the single article of belief in the goodness and perfection of God. Without such a belief anything at all in the nature of a pure religion can hardly be said to exist, and the point is, of course, one which, as St. Paul asserts, is dictated to our consciences by the elementary instincts of faith. But, at the same time, when subjected to the analysis of reason, and brought into contact with a rigid scien- tific standard, it presents, perhaps, more momentous difficulties than any of the articles of faith which follow it. The moment the scientific reason begins to discuss it, we are confronted with the tremendous, and apparently insoluble, problem-of the existence of evil. The faith which, in the full sight and con- sciousness of that problem, maintains its firm assent to the absolute goodness and omnipotence of God, has abandoned the ground of mere rational belief and has taken a step which justifies, in principle, any subsequent advance. It has given up, once for all, the right to measure its assent by the limits and dictates of reason alone, and has committed it- self to the hands of another guide altogether. 16 The Office of Faith. [Lecr. That this is no mere speculative perplexity is demonstrated by a prolonged and pathetic expe- rience. The persistence of this problem of evil, and its terrible pressure, are among the most con- spicuous facts in the history both of human thought and of human life. In the book of Job it is de- picted as the great agony of patriarchal thought ; and the practical solution of it there given is that upon which we are thrown back up to the present hour—namely, that there is no rational solution for it at all, and that we must be content with the confession of our utter ignorance and weak- ness, and with simple submission and trust in the Almighty. ‘Job answered the Lord and said, Be- hold, I am vile; what shall I answer Thee? I will lay mine hand upon my mouth. Once have I spoken ; but I will not answer: yea twice; but I will proceed no further*’ But a still more conspicuous proof of the enormous pressure of this elementary difficulty is furnished by the great religions of the Kast. Buddhism—to refer again to the most striking case—may literally be said to have been created by the problem of evil. The meditative speculation of India, brooding over the facts of life, experienced an agony like that of Job; and failing to fall back upon the faith which sustained him, has taken refuge in a system which may be described as a profound re- ligious narcotic. Buddhism cannot solve the problem ; ¢ Job xl. 3-5. Ee The Office of Faith. 17 but it can numb the religious consciousness by a philosophic asceticism, and can foster the hope of escaping into an existence where the soul will no longer be conscious of the evil of life. The same problem has been recently revived by German specu- lation, and weighs on mere reason with as over- powering a burden as ever. Judging by experience, it would seem that the human soul cannot leave the problem alone, and insists on some support or other amidst its distress and misery. The same difficulty presents itself in a similar, but not less urgent form in the daily work of the ministers of our own faith among the poor and suffering. It is one thing to say that God is good in the shelter of an academic retirement, and a very different thing to say it, and to believe it, amidst the weakness, the sickness, and the squalor of poverty. Now it is precisely in the most mysterious doc- trines of our creed, in those which make the strongest demands on faith, and are the most remote from any possibility of scientific verification, that Chris- tian souls find their support and refuge under these burdens of the flesh and these torments of the spirit. The message that ‘God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life’ —this is a message, simple as are its terms, which transcends all philosophy, all reason, all experience, nay, all capacity of comprehension ; and yet it is in reliance on this message, and on other assurances of C 18 The Office of Faith. [Lecr. the same kind, that Christians are delivered from all despair, and are enabled, under whatever distresses, to cling to their belief in the love of their Father in heaven. When the Christian minister can assure a suffering soul on the bed of death, in misery or pain, that whatever its agonies, the Son of God in human form endured far worse for its sake, as a pledge of the love of its Father, and in fulfilment of that love, he applies a remedy which is equal to any need. The message of the Cross, interpreted by the doctrine of the Incarnation, is thus, in moments of real trial, the support of the most elementary principle of faith. In fact, the minimising theology now in question depends for its plausibility upon a simple evasion of the real problems of philosophy, and of the practical difficulties of life. The full and explicit faith of the creeds recognizes those diffi- culties, and looks them in the face. It owns that they are insuperable upon any grounds of mere natural reason, and it offers supernatural realities and supernatural assurances to overcome them. Considerations such as these may suffice to show that it would be vain to attempt any compromise with the scientific spirit by minimising the articles of our faith. As long as we retain any of them, however elementary, as more than bare speculations, we go beyond scientific grounds, and rest upon assurances which transcend the capacity of mere reason. We rise above nature, beyond the realm of sight and sense and observation, and we act on the I] The Office of Faith. 19 conviction of things not seen. In proportion, indeed, to the depth and extent of the Christian’s experience is his faith transformed into knowledge. We are given ‘an understanding that we may know Him that is true, and we are in Him that is true? But in the order of the Christian life, according to the old saying, faith comes before knowledge, and we believe in order that we may know. The scientific principle, as described in the passage previously quoted ®, is the reverse of this; in the scientific sphere knowledge precedes faith, and we learn to know in order that we may believe. But it also follows from this principle that science must know before she can deny. Ac- cordingly, it is to be observed that the attitude of philosophy and science towards religious truth, as represented by their ablest and most authoritative exponents in modern times, is not one of negation, but of a simple confession of ignorance, or, as such an attitude has been recently termed, ‘Agnosticism.’ The representative writer just referred to has, indeed, of late gone so far as to say, in no intemperate spirit, that ‘in respect of the existence and attributes of the soul, as of those of the Deity, logic is powerless and reason silent‘ ;’ and if this be an extreme state- ment, it would at least seem beyond question that, from such a point of view, logic and reason are so hesitating and so perplexed as to afford no adequate basis for action, and no sufficient assurance for un- ad x John y. 20. e p. 13. f- Professor Huxley on Hume, p. 179. ¢ 2 20 The Office of Faith. [ Lecr. qualified faith. Reason, indeed, when exhibited in its highest power and animated by sound moral instincts, has attained, even without the aid of revela- tion, to lofty anticipations, to dim apprehensions of mighty realities beyond its ken—‘feeling after’ the great facts of religion. But its safest employment on this subject is that which has been exemplified so forcibly by Bishop Butler—that of defence rather than of construction, of answering the difficulties raised by itself, and thus acting as its own critic. Such, at any rate, is the attitude of scientific reason at the present day. It acknowledges its in- competence to pronounce positively against any of the great truths of our faith. It has of late, for instance, distinctly confessed, by the mouth of one of its most distinguished and authoritative repre- sentatives, that there can be no just ground, on the principles of natural philosophy, for denying the possibility of the occurrence of miracles. ‘ No one,’ —to quote again from Professor Huxley s—‘ who wishes to keep well within the limits of that which he has a right to assert would affirm that it is im- possible that the sun and moon should ever have been made to appear to stand still in the valley of Ajalon; or that the walls of a city should have fallen down at a trumpet blast; or that water was turned into wine; because such events are contrary to uni- form experience and violate laws of nature. For aught he can prove to the contrary, such events may & Professor Huxley on Hume, pp. 134, 136. I. ] The Office of Farth. 21 appear in the order of nature to-morrow. Again: ‘No event is too extraordinary to be impossible ; and therefore if by the term miracle, we mean only “extremely wonderful events,’ there can be no just ground for denying the possibility of their occurrence.’ But if there be any truth or fact of our faith on the possibility of which science might have been expected to be able to pronounce, it is on that of miracles ; for they are events which, at any rate, occur within the natural realm, and are within the cognizance of the senses. If scientific principles leave this question open, it seems hard to say what questions of the Christian religion they do not leave open. Science places itself, by its own confession, out of court in the matter. Of course, if any article of faith, or any alleged fact in religion, is contradicted by an estab- lished truth of science, there is at once an end of it. To modify the memorable phrase of our great apologist, ‘let Reason be kept to, and if any point in Christian belief can be shown to be really contrary to it, let the belief, in the name of God, be given up*.’ But where Science plainly confesses herself incom- petent to pronounce, where she hesitates, falters, and, in the person of her frankest representatives, is silent, let it not be supposed that she has discredited truths which rest upon other grounds. It thus appears that if at the present time the principle of faith has been weakened by the influence of the scientific spirit, this result is due to an entirely h Bishop Butler, in the Analogy, Part II, ch. 5, sec. 7. 22 The Office of Faith. [ Lucr. fallacious impression. It is not the case that the slightest valid presumption has been established against our faith. It is simply that the dazzling blaze of the greatest Ulumination ever opened to the natural eye has entranced the mental vision of our age, and has made other objects and other sources of illumination seem for the moment dim to men. The apprehension of Bacon has been fulfilled: ‘ Sensus, instar solis, globi terrestris faciem aperit, coelestis claudit et obsignat‘” But though the impression may be fallacious and unreasonable, few can doubt that it prevails, or that it has a very considerable effect in obstructing the general influence of the Christian faith, and in weakening its grasp upon many who, on the whole, submit to it. As has always been the case in similar circumstances, the consequences are felt in other matters besides religious faith. They are perceptible in a general enfeeblement of the principle of authority, and in an indisposition to sub- mit to restraint in thought, in speech, and in conduct. On the Continent, at all events, the prevalence of this temper is felt to menace society with very grave con- sequences indeed, and it would be rash to regard our own country as out of the reach of a like danger. The revival, m short, appears to be urgently needed of the principle of faith, and with it a reno- vation of that just authority which holds families, societies, and nations together, and which moulds successive generations in harmony with deliberate i Praef. ad Instaur. Mag. I.] The Office of Faith. 23 and noble aims. That general operation of faith, throughout the world and through all history, with a review of which these observations were in- troduced, should serve to convince us of the immense moral and spiritual force which lies latent in human nature awaiting such a revival. Unless that nature is entirely changed, the hearts of men must still be susceptible of that mightiest and noblest of all emotions, which impels them to follow the leader whom they trust through doubt and through dark- ness, through peril and through death, to build upon his promises their expectations of things hoped for, to accept his assurances respecting things not seen, and to unite loyally with others in maintaining his kingdom and asserting his authority. If the capacity for such a spirit should be stifled amongst ourselves by a false rationalism— though how can it be stifled as long as England and the English universities furnish a generous youth to respond to its appeal ?—yet, at all events, this spirit is still alive in the East. It may yet prove the spring of a new life throughout those regions from whence all faith and all civilization arose. The Christian cannot doubt that the Faith of the Gospel will thus return to its ancient home and reanimate its chosen people; and when that final triumph of the true Prophet and King of mankind is achieved, God grant that Europe may not have cause to hear in it an echo, or a reversal, of the voice once addressed to the Jews— ‘Behold! we turn to the Gentiles.’ 24 The Office of Faith. [Lecr. If these considerations be just, it will mot be inopportune to make an attempt, in humility and prayer, to consider the nature, the justification, and the present position of that principle which, as we have seen, lies so deeply at the root of human life, and on which the Christian creed and the fabric of Christian civilization repose. The object of this course of Lectures will be to offer a contribution towards strengthening the Foundations and elucidat- ing the Elements of Faith, and thus to illustrate the character and the just limits of that Authority on which, notwithstanding the silence of science and the hesitations of reason, we build our expectations of things hoped for, our conviction of things not seen. For this purpose, an endeavour will be made to exhibit the manner in which Faith is founded in the -deep convictions of the conscience, to trace the de- velopment of its lofty structure under the guidance of revelation ; and finally to consider the ground on which it rests in our own Church, and at the pre- sent time. It will at least be an assistance towards appreciating what faith may be now, if we realise in some measure what it has been in the past, and if we can quicken our apprehension of the method in which it has operated in the great crises of religious history. There remains, however, one consideration to which it may be necessary to advert in introducing this subject to your consideration. Such a review of the operation of Faith as has just been offered, and as is r) The Office of Faith. 25 further contemplated in the course of these Lectures, has sometimes been approached in a very different spirit from that which prompts the present attempt. It is obvious to point to the discordant results, to the conflicting beliefs, to the miserable divisions, even within the Christian Church, to which Faith has led, and to ask what can be the value of a principle which has hitherto produced such confusion, and which, at the present time, occasions to some of the most faithful souls such grievous perplexity. Nothing is more obvious. But nothing is more un- generous, at least on the part of the sons of the Church ; and there is nothing to which the answer seems more simple. On what ground is it to be supposed, where was it ever promised, that faith alone, of all the faculties and functions of man’s nature, would operate independently of his weakness and his sin, and would not have to grow with his moral growth, strengthen with his moral strength, and be enfeebled or perverted in proportion to his moral unfaithfulness? What an indictment might not be drawn up against reason itself, for the errors, the half-truths, the controversies into which it has led mankind! What indictments have not actually been drawn up against civilization, and against the very principles of society, on the ground of the wars, the diseases, the private injuries, which they have involved! But who would be thought to be uttering anything but a paradox if on this ground, like our greatest satirist, he were to suggest the folly of being 26 The Office of Faith. [Lecr. I. guided by reason, or, like our imost philosophical statesman, were to write a treatise in vindication of natural societyi? The sad record of Christian divisions is but a proof that in the highest concerns of the soul we are as much ina state of conflict, of trial, of moral struggle as in all other spheres of our life; and there would be nothing unnatural if it also showed that in the loftiest regions of all the tempta- tions were greater than elsewhere, the consequences of a fall more conspicuous and more disastrous. It is here, in fact, that the human spirit finds its ultimate trial; here and here alone, as will be seen in the sequel, in its aspirations towards things hoped for, its cray- ings for things not seen, its yearnings towards infinite truth, goodness, and beauty, that all its faculties, intellectual, moral, and even physical, are put to their severest test. Let us not for a moment indulge the unworthy apprehension that He who has endowed us with the supreme instinct of Faith will disappoint it. In proportion to our faithful response to the striv- ings of His Spirit will He gradually lead us onwards to the light, until faith at length is merged in His perfect and glorious vision. j Burke, A Vindication of Natural Society: or, a view of the miseries and evils arising to mankind from every species of Artificial Society. Burke’s Works, vol. i. LECTURE II. THE FAITH OF THE CONSCIENCE, Rom. 1. 28. And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not conventent. IT is unnecessary at the outset of this enquiry to examine the various definitions of Faith. Such a discussion would in great measure relate to the meaning of words; while we are concerned with facts. Our object is to obtain a clearer conception of the nature of Faith by considering its operation in history, and, above all, in the history of the Church ; and without any strict definition, we know sufficiently where to observe it, and on what main principles the structure of the Christian creed is built. The first, and so far the most momentous, of those principles is Belief in God. As was shewn in the first Lecture, this belief, when submitted to the keen scrutiny of a cultivated reason, and sub- jected to the severe tests of a prolonged experience, 28 The Faith [Lecr. appears to demand the support which is afforded it by the full revelation of God in Christ. The diffi- culties which press upon us, in proportion as the realities of life are forced upon our view, are so tremendous, they had been felt to be so overwhelm- ing alike by Jewish prophets and by Greek philo- sophers, that, in another sense from that which is usually understood, we may well say ‘the fulness of the time was come, when God sent forth His Son that we might receive the adoption of sons. From the misery of Job to the despair of Habakkuk, exclaim- ing that ‘the law is slacked and judgment doth never go forth,’ the burden on human nature seemed to be becoming more than it could bear; and some assurance of the divine love, such as was vouchsafed in the life and death of our Lord, appeared indis- pensable, if the noblest thoughts and hopes of the world were not to be crushed. That assurance, once vouchsafed, became thenceforward all sufficient in it- self to millions of souls, however suffering and however perplexed. It is still for the world at large the most decisive testimony to our Father in Heaven that can possibly be adduced; and we cannot well place too absolute and simple a reliance upon it. At the present time, in particular, it merits the careful considera- tion of those who have to deal either with heathen- ism abroad or with ordinary doubt and irreligion at home, whether the direct message of a living and historic Christ, recorded in the Gospels, and attested @ Habakkuk i. 4. IT.] of the Conscience. 29 by an historic Church, does not afford a more natural and a more potent argument for faith than any formal system of evidences. ‘He that hath seen Me,’ said our Lord, ‘hath seen the Father; and how sayest thou then, Shew us the Father?’ In proportion as we can enable men to see Christ will they see His Father, and to this end all practical teaching should be directed. But the course to be adopted in order to convert men in practice, and the method to be pursued in explaining the nature of faith and vindicating its action, are very different; and for our present purposes it is necessary we should enquire into the character and the validity of those primary acts of faith upon which, as a matter of fact, the whole superstructure of the Jewish and the Christian religion has been erected. Persistent efforts are now made by able and influential writers to under- mine these elementary principles. Distinguished men of science write popular handbooks, in which the most sceptical philosophy of the last century is revived and justified ©; and so far as the elementary foundations of religious faith are thus undermined, it becomes impracticable to obtain a due hearing for the full and convincing revelation of our Lord and of His Apostles. We claim faith in a divine . revelation ; but we are challenged at the outset to b St. John xiv. 9. ¢ For example, Professor Huxley’s account of Hume, already referred to. 30 The Faith [Lecr. state what justification we can have for believing in any thing which cannot be verified by natural reason and ordinary experience. It is alleged that the elementary article of belief in God is incapable of such verification, and doctrines assuming a revelation from Him are consequently treated as outside the range of practical discussion. It was shewn in the preced- ing Lecture how flagrantly such a challenge conflicts with the universal dictates of human nature, and what a presumption is consequently raised against it. But it is not enough to create a presumption without vindicating it; and lamentable as it must seem from one point of view to be arguing this elementary question at the present day, the con- siderations it suggests are of essential importance to our further argument. Now St. Paul in the text propounds a fact in | human nature, and a principle of the divine govern- ment, which appear to throw a vivid and a terrible hight upon the history of this primary article of belief. The verse is somewhat inadequately trans- lated in our version, and its instructiveness is greatly enhanced by a due appreciation of its terms. The Greek ov« édoxiuacay tov Oedv éxew év emryvecet CONVEYS much more than that ‘they did not like to retain God in their knowledge‘ It implies that they did not duly apply themselves to that process of testing, of proving, of trying—as metals are tried in the fire—the natural revelation vouchsafed to them, d Note 2, Appendix. rH of the Conscience. 31 and that they thus incapacitated themselves from retaining a true knowledge of God. In other words, the Apostle speaks of that knowledge as being sufficiently open to them, but as not to be attained without moral effort; and the loss of it is consequently ascribed to a distinct failure of moral energy, which was justly punished by divine repro- bation, and which led to deeper moral corruption. The consequence, in fact, as is usual with divine judgments, precisely corresponded to the cause. Men declined that full exertion of their moral faculties which was necessary for the maintenance of their belief in God; and those very faculties, thus deprived of their due exercise, lost their soundness and their genuineness, and became addxjmor, base coin, unable to bear the severe tests of life. Belief in God seems thus propounded as the great touchstone of the moral vigour of mankind. Man possesses in his reason and his heart, in the world without and in the world within, arguments enough to afford him a substantial knowledge of God, and to lead him to worship and to trust. But they are not demonstrative. They are not even mere arguments of probability. In other words, they are not simply intellectual. They put a strain upon the moral nature, and the manner in which that strain is borne determines the moral condition alike of individuals and of races. Once let men take the broader and easier road of moral supineness, and they at once lose their hold upon God, and are in imminent danger of falling into an 32 The Faith [ Lecr. abyss of corruption, such as that described in this chapter. But let them choose the narrower and severer path, and God becomes more and more a vivid reality to them, and they advance from strength to strength. It would lead us into far too wide a field, and one beyond the scope of these Lectures, to ex- amine in detail the manner in which this state- ment of St. Paul is justified by the facts of other religions and by the course of history. Such an enquiry would need, for its completeness, information which can only be expected from those investiga- tions into the early history of mankind and into the origin of their various religions, which have of late received such an impulse, but in which no adequate attention seems yet to have been paid to in- timations of the working of the moral sense®. Even if restricted in its scope within historic times, such an attempt would demand vast and varied learning, as well as profound moral insight; and the learned historian of the Romans under the empire has himself shrunk from the task of analysing that momentous revolution in which this principle was, perhaps, most fully tested—that of the dissolution of Paganism and the establishment of the Christian Churchf. But certain broad facts, visible on the face of history, are strongly confirmatory of the Apostle’s statement, e Note 3, Appendix. f Dean Merivale’s History of the Romans under the Empire, vol. vill. p. 369. IT.] of the Conscience. 33 and should alone be sufficient to impose some re- straint upon the wantonness of speculation now exhibited upon this subject. We observe, as a matter of fact, that every people, of whatever race, whether ancient or modern, who have acquiesced in Pantheism or Polytheism, or in any form of Agnosticism, have also, to say the very least, become deficient in moral vigour; and up to the present time such races have exhibited unmistakable signs of an accelerating moral decay. . There appears, also, to be no question historically that imperfect as is the apprehension of God in Mahometanism, fatally as it is neutralized by the corruptions with which Ma- homet falsified the great truth entrusted to him, the proclamation of that truth nevertheless exercised at the outset a strong moral influence. To that influence an enduring monument was erected by the arms, the philosophy, the learning, and the art which flourished under the earlier Caliphs, and in a minor degree it is still said to be observable when the faith of Islam is brought to bear upon races sunk in idolatry. It is an equally instructive, and an equally unquestion- able, fact that the philosophers by whom the belief in God has been most strongly maintained—such, for instance, as Socrates and Plato among the Greeks, and Kant among the Germans—have also been those whose attention has been most concentrated upon moral considerations, and who have done the most to stimulate the moral element in human nature. The noblest moral system of the ancient world was D 34 The Faith [ Lecr. that of Stoicism; and the later Stoics, says Dean Merivale, as compared with their predecessors, ‘had attained a clearer idea of the personality of God, with a higher conception of His goodness and His purity. They could not rest in the pantheism of an earlier ages.’ Thus, even before we consider the evidence afforded by Jewish and Christian history, in which the union between moral and religious convictions is intense and indissoluble, we find, on a broad survey of history and philosophy, that morality and a belief in God seem, as the Apostle declares, to rise or fall together. What is the secret of this remarkable connection ? It is to be found in those recesses of the conscience in which the perennial spring of moral life resides. We are told that when St. Paul reasoned before Felix and Drusilla of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix became afraid. In that incident we have an example of the universal effect of a direct appeal to moral convictions. Between Felix and ourselves nearly two thousand years are interposed, but he is completely one with us in his involuntary response to the Apostle’s exhortation. In the time of Felix, as much as in the present day, Conscience, when aroused by a voice like that of the Apostle, bears witness within every human soul that its sin will be punished, and its righteous- ness rewarded. In the hour of temptation we all & History of the Romans under the Empire, vol. viii. p. 365. EF) of the Conscience. 35 have this distinct conviction aroused within us; and the literature of the most distant past proves that in its essence the same conviction has at all times overawed the moral consciousness. It is but a voice, to adopt the usual phrase; but it is a voice which is felt to be authoritative, and which fur- nishes the practical sanction to morality. Before it, when evoked by a great master like St. Paul, the human soul tiembles, and anticipates with awe a judgment upon its acts from which it cannot escape. Now even before we recognise the full force of this witness of the conscience, we must observe that, in proportion to its clearness and decisiveness, it requires an act of faith as distinct from reason. That which is here exhibited is something quite different from a simple intuition of truth. It is not merely a case of the acceptance of certain eternal principles of right and wrong. Such principles might be conceived as resting on a similar foundation to that of the great axioms of scientific truth, or the canons of beauty, and as authenticated by a primary intuition. But in such a conception the most essen- tial element in the fact under consideration would be omitted. It is not simply that certain things are re- cognised as right, and certain other things as wrong. It is not even the paramount conviction that to do the right and to refuse the wrong is the duty and the highest honour of man. It is not, in fact, simply a sense of duty which is aroused by the voice of the Pe 36 The Faith [Lecr. conscience. It is a sense, and a conviction, that there exists a sanction for that duty, and that a violation of it will be surely avenged. It is ‘a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation ;* an assurance that ‘ to them that are unrighteous and obey not the truth, there will be a revelation of ‘indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil;’ and on the other hand, ‘ glory, honour, and peace to every man that worketh good)” This is not simply a vision of moral beauty, a conviction of the supreme claim of morality upon our reason and our allegiance. It is this no doubt, but ft is much more. It is a conviction that in ourselves and in others this claim will be enforced. We feel that it will be enforced, moreover, in the way of judgment, and not merely in that of natural consequences. The warning of conscience is thus something distinct in kind from the conviction that fire will burn if we put our hands into it, or that if we disregard the law of gravitation we shall suffer for it. In those cases the consequence is visible and immediate ; but it is the characteristic of conscience to warn a man of a future judgment even when he escapes all visible penalty. The conviction it enforces is not merely that certain consequences will follow our evil deeds, but that we deserve certain penalties, and that we must expect them to be inflicted, h Heb. x. 27; Rom. ii. 10. IT. ] of the Conscience. 37 because we deserve them. It is a conviction, in other words, that we are responsible, and that we shall be held to our responsibility. Now this conviction, to which every moralist, every teacher, every ruler appeals, seems in its very nature to be antecedent to all experience, and de- pendent for its force and vitality on a principle external to it. It appears, moreover, wholly inex- plicable by any process of evolution. Without dis- paraging the applicability of that hypothesis to explain certain moral phenomena, it can hardly account for the existence in the earliest moral con- sciousness of humanity of an instinct with which visible experience was often painfully in conflict— even more flagrantly in conflict than at the present day‘. If the Scriptures be regarded simply as very ancient records, they bear witness to the intensity with which in the very dawn of history this conviction was erasped; and similarly on the monuments of ancient Egyptian civilisation it is exhibited as exer- cising a predominant influence in the most remote antiquity. The natural cause which at those periods. could account for such a belief, and which in all ages has rendered an appeal to it so potent a moral instrument, has yet to be stated. Reason and ex- perience would doubtless even in early days suggest a belief that, in the course of life and _ history, righteousness would on the whole be rewarded, and i Note 4. 38 The Faith [Lecr. vice would on the whole be punished. The tendency of history, the result of civilisation, is now seen with sufficient clearness to be in this direction. But this main tendency, this general result, seems to afford no guarantee whatever for the full assertion and vindi- cation of the principle in relation to each conscience and to every individual. It would not enable us to rise to the universality of the Apostle’s assurance, of ‘indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil, and of ‘glory, honour, and peace to every man _ that worketh good. So far as we accept that assurance, we pass beyond the bounds of experience, beyond the limits of that which can be verified, and we grasp the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Yet it is a conviction of this kind which is at the root of the trembling of such aman as Felix, and which shakes the soul of every man when his conscience is aroused by a preacher of righteousness. Judging, in fact, by the present life and its daily _ experience, it has been felt in all ages to be im- possible to discern the full vindication of the law of righteousness, and of the demands of the con- science. It is true, no doubt, that the great balance of evidence is in favour of that law, and that it is established as the cardinal law of history with all the certainty that can be expected in moral affairs. But there are also conspicuous instances of those anomalies which weighed so cruelly on the Psalmist, II. of the Conscience. 39 of evil doers flourishing, of their living in power and opulence, leaving the rest of their substance to their children, and of no visible vengeance following upon their immorality. Such instances are not merely the perplexity of good men; they are the theme of satirists and the constant material of Cynicism. Apart from the general course of events, it is beyond a question that unrighteousness has been prosperous and successful, and that it is so even at the present day. In reference to individuals, there is certainly no complete indication to be derived from experience in favour of the assurance of conscience that every man will be rewarded according to his works. Yet that conviction remains—imperative, menacing, warning every soul in its hour of temptation, or threatening it in its moments of remorse. To put it aside, to stifle it, is consciously and deliberately to impair our moral vigour. Men cannot escape from it without forfeiting their moral health and vitality. But if they cling to this conviction in spite of experience, they are acting, even if unconsciously, on a principle of faith. They are not arguing from a present to a future experience. They are not building upon any such probability, imper- fect as it has been said to be, that because the sun rises to-day it will rise to-morrow. They are not saying, as a natural philosopher might do, that a great law of which the operation is imperfectly visible will be shewn, by further investigation, to be really operative. A natural philosopher in 40 The Faith [Lecr. such a case relies upon being able, sooner or later, to exhibit in present experience the complete opera- tion of the law in question, and to demonstrate its supremacy in the very phenomena which appeared to defy it. But any such present operation and consequent demonstration of the law of righteous- ness is the very thing which, in its details and in reference to individuals, is evidently and painfully lacking. Nevertheless, this ineradicable instinct of the human conscience compels men to believe that sooner or later, here or hereafter, in one way or another, the claim of righteousness will be satisfied, and that judgment will be executed. O! Testi- montium animae naturaliter Christianaek! *‘ There- fore thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art that judgest!’ Notwithstanding instances to the contrary which are flagrant and obtrusive, notwith- standing the bitter complaints of prophets, priests, poets, and historians, though the righteous perish and no man layeth it to heart, men believe in a judgment to come, and their deepest moral convic- tions thus involve a principle which no experience can demonstrate, and with which much bitter ex- perience seems daily to conflict. It seems of the more importance to insist upon this primary act of faith because it is avowedly and deliberately set aside by the philosophers who, at the present time, have most influence in weakening or k Tertullian, Apol. Adv. Gentes, ¢. 17. 1 Rom. ii. 1. II.] of the Conscience. 41 denying our faith in God. Hume, for instance, still acts as one of the most powerful sceptical forces ; and there is the more reason to refer to him, as his views, or at least the main arguments he puts forward, have lately been revived by Professor ‘Huxley, and reproduced in a form, and with ad- ditions, which cannot be safely, or even respectfully, neglected™, Now it is most remarkable to find that, especially when thus summarised and presented in their essence, the arguments which Hume puts into the mouth of his Epicurean philosopher depend for their validity upon the flat rejection of that act of faith on the part of the conscience upon which we have been dwelling. For example, Hume argues, in opposition to the supposed necessity of belief in Divine Providence, that it is sufficient if he regulates his behaviour by his experience of past events, which he acknowledges to be on the whole in favour of virtue and discouraging to vice. But ‘if,’ he says, ‘you affirm that, while a divine providence is allowed, and a supreme distributive justice in the universe, I ought to expect some more particular reward of the good, and punishment of the bad, beyond the ordinary course of events, I here find the same fallacy which I have before endeavoured to detect. You persist in imagining, that if we grant that divine existence for which you so earnestly contend, you may safely infer consequences from m Professor Huxley on Hume, pp. 154-156; Hume's Lssays, edited by Green and Grose, vol. ii. pp. 115, £16. 42 The Faith [Lecr. it, and add something to the experienced order of nature, by arguing from the attributes you ascribe to your gods. You seem not to remember that all your reasonings on this subject can only be drawn from effects to causes; and that every argument, deduced from causes to effects, must of necessity be a gross sophism; since it is impossible for you to know anything of the cause, but what you have antecedently not inferred, but discovered to the full, in the effect.’ ‘ Are there, he concludes, ‘ any marks of a distributive justice in the world? If you answer in the affirmative, I conclude that since justice here exerts itself, it is satisfied. If you reply in the negative, I conclude that you have then no reason to ascribe justice, in your sense of it, to the gods. If you hold a medium between affirmation and negation, by saying that the justice of the gods at present exerts itself in part, but not in its full extent, I answer that you have no reason to give it any particular extent, but only so far as you see it, at present, exert itself. Such is the argument which has been recently revived, and presented to us as the philosophical reply to the arguments of Bishop Butler’s Analogy. And allowing its supposition, that we are limited to the principles of scientific reason, and that these must be based on actual experience, its force is manifest. To quote from its modern expositor 2— n Professor Huxley on Hume, p. 156. If.] of the Conscience. 43 ‘As nature is our only measure of the attributes of the Deity in their practical manifestation, what warranty is there for supposing that such measure is anywhere transcended ? That the other side of nature, if there is one, is governed on different prin- ciples from this side?’ Certainly a very imperfect warranty, if nature, in the limited sense here ap- parently understood, be our only measure. But that is the great question. These arguments are based upon the cold and impassive denial of the validity and authority of the dictates of conscience. They raise this direct question—and it is at once the danger and the merit of Hume that he does not shrink from raising 1t—are you prepared to believe, not in mere speculative opinions, but in certain great practical con- victions which are beyond the reach of all experience and verification? Are you prepared to say that although, within the limits of human observation, virtue is not adequately rewarded, and vice not adequately punished, yet you believe that they will be, and are you resolved to build both your acts and your thoughts on that belief, and on the conse- quences which follow from it? That is the real issue, and the whole force exerted by the argument of Hume depends upon the answer which each soul makes to it. If, like the Psalmists and the Prophets, you are prepared, in spite of all apparent contra- dictions, to believe in the absolute supremacy of right over wrong, in the blessedness of the righteous and the misery of the wicked, you have then per- 44 The Faith [ Lect. formed a momentous act of faith, which opens up to you an entirely new world, and respecting which it is hardly too much to say, in Hume’s own words, that it ‘subverts all the principles of the under- standing, and gives a man a determination to believe what is most contrary to custom and ex- perience °.. But if you deny this, you have said nothing less than that in the constitution of the universe there is no complete sanction for morality ; and if, in Hume’s phrase, you holda medium between affirmation and negation, you have at least thrown over morality the blighting influence of uncertainty ; you have cut one of the sinews of moral action, and you have made a great step towards realising St. Paul’s conviction, that if men will not retain God in their knowledge, they will be given over to a repro- bate mind. That which has been called ‘the categorical im- perative’ of the conscience thus amounts to an imperative requirement from us of the first great act of faith—that of belief in a righteous and omnipotent God. It has, indeed, been urged of late with much confident reiteration that considerations such as we have been reviewing are satisfied by recognising the existence of a power independent of ourselves, which enforces righteousness and truth as the paramount law of the universe. Now even this conviction, if it is to be more than a mere generality © Professor Huxley on Hume, p. 141. - Ef.) of the Conscience. 45 and is to be applied completely to individual ex- perience, transcends, as has been shewn, all the limits of experience, and takes us at once into that region of things not seen from which it is the professed object of this paradoxical exposition to debar us. But the question, whether it is a sufficient account of the matter, depends again on the degree of vivid- ness and thoroughness which we recognise in the dictates of the conscience. Is it simply to the supremacy of a general law of righteousness that conscience bears witness? That is the great enquiry on which it is necessary to insist; and the answer to it cannot be too rigidly scrutinized, for upon that answer mainly depend the momentous moral and religious convictions now in question. They depend upon it by virtue of this consideration—that no influence which is not itself a personal one can pos- sibly execute a complete judgment upon the acts, the thoughts, and the impulses of a person. It may be confidently affirmed that there is no sentence ever pronounced, whether by natural or human law, in which we do not feel compelled to recognise, if not a certain injustice, at least a certain inadequacy, a Jack of exact adaptation to the circumstances of the individual. In the case of almost every criminal who is punished, human law is either too harsh or not harsh enough, and it is sometimes almost as rough in its operation as the law of nature, and as irrespective of personal merits. Similar injustice must always result when personal merits or demerits 46 The Faith [Lecr. are subjected to the action of impersonal agencies, powers, or laws. According to the old principle, that like is only known by like, so like can only be judged by like; and none but a personal being, endued with our morality and intelligence, can be conceived as entering fully into the infinite variations of mind and heart and brain, on which the conduct of every human being depends. If, in fact, in some agony of the spirit, some crisis of life, the exclamation of the Psalmist is forced from us, ‘Judge me, O God,’ to what do we appeal? Is it to a mere law, a force which asserts itself inde- pendently of all individual considerations, or is it to a power which, as we believe with the whole force of our souls, is capable of taking into account all the details of our personal condition, of making allowance for them, having compassion on our weak- nesses and forgiving our sins? Is it to ‘a power, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness, or is it to a Being revealed to us with what may seem such logical inconsistency, but with such practical harmony, as ‘the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guiltyP’? In utterances like these the revelation of the Scriptures penetrates to depths of the human heart which are invariably left Pp Exodus xxxiv. 6, 7. fT.) of the Conscvence. 47 untouched—sometimes with a characteristic compla- cence—by those who are content to refer us to mere laws and potencies. To the miseries of conscious sin and guilt such philosophies have nothing to say. But it is in these moral depths that faith strikes its roots. The more these convictions and demands of the conscience are realised, the more are we forced back on the necessity of redemption, and the more are we compelled to hope, and trust, and crave, for some deliverance which is beyond all natural capacity and experience. The faith on which the primary convictions of morality depend compels us to reach out towards invisible and distant realities, and to look, like the Jewish prophets, for the full revelation of One, who will execute judgment and justice on the earth. A whole vista of prophecy is suggested when we thus contrast the infinite, the subtle—in a word the personal—demands of the conscience with the rude facts of the present life; and we seem to see the possibility, or the verisimilitude, opened to us of that series of revelations, in which the Christian and Jewish Scriptures at once predicted and fulfilled these imperious moral necessities. But in proportion to the force with which this necessity of personal judgment and personal redemption is realised, is the witness which the conscience affords to the existence of God, and to His moral relation to us. If the highest impulses of life are not to be balked, if the deepest dictates of morality are not illusive, some Being there must be, who is at all events 48 The Faith [Lecr. so far personal, as to be able to deal justly with persons. It may be worth while to observe that, so far as these considerations are just, they tend to establish, not merely the validity of our belief in a personal God, but its naturalness, and a sufficient reason for its prompt and unhesitating acceptance by the mass of men. By some modern writers4 it has been made a ground of objection to Christian truth that its primary assumption—that of a living God in whom we live and move and have our being—requires such elaborate arguments to establish it. Now it is the peculiar characteristic of first principles that they are the most difficult of all others to prove, or even to defend in argument, but that they commend them- selves instinctively to common sense, or to the general apprehension of sound minds. They correspond to experience in proportion to its simplicity and direct- ness, and their real strength lies in their being the true interpretation of a natural instinct. This is preeminently true of the highest. principle of all ; and in the present day it is of great importance to bear this consideration in mind. When, indeed, arguments are elaborated in contravention of these primary truths, it is at least respectful to objectors, even if not necessary, to be elaborate in reply; and it is rather unreasonable it should be made a matter of complaint against theologians that they are willing to meet their antagonists on their own grounds, and a4 Mr. M. Arnold, in Literatwre and Dogma, ch. x, and passim. II. ] of the Conscience, 49 with their own weapons. But the Christian minister is not dependent on such arguments, nor is the vitality of the Christian Faith derived from their validity. If we can shew, by such considerations as have now been offered, that the primary truths of faith are in harmony with the most imperative con- victions of the human conscience, we have shewn that they are natural; or, in other words, that it is natural for men, unless sophisticated by previous argument, to believe in them. When those argu- ments are raised, when the difficulties which reason readily suggests are pressed on us, it is necessary to confront them. Above all, if the moral consciousness of an individual or of a community has become en- feebled, and men are no longer duly sensible of the terrible heights and depths of morality, there is a barrier between them and religious truth which can only be overthrown by reviving their apprehension of those awful realities. But in proportion as the conscience is quickened, it is natural men should believe in a personal God who judges them, and who will punish and reward them. They do it without reasons, and by the instinct of nature; and it is to this instinct that the Christian pastor may always most safely appeal. We have no need as a rule to prove the existence of a personal God to a man who is duly conscious of moral evil. We may assume His existence, as we do that of the sun, and it will be acknowledged by virtue of the mere constitution of human nature. 50 The Faith [Lecr. Similar considerations, doubtless, apply to the argu- ment from the general order of nature and from the constitution of the human intellect. The impulse to infer the existence of a personal God from them is natural ; such an inference is on the whole the most in conformity with the facts of the case, and we may rest assured that, independently of formal argument, it will always commend itself to the common sense of sound minds. We cannot too strongly rely on the truth of St. Paul's statement that ‘the invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead ; so that men are without excuse’.’ Philosophy raises objections, and it is our business to endeavour to answer them ; but nature, after all, is stronger than philosophy, and the perplexities of thought will never suppress the dictates of conscience and of simple reason. Modern philosophy, indeed, has com- mitted something like an act of suicide in respect to this question of the existence of God. For it con- fesses, or rather asserts, that precisely the same difh- culties apply to a belief in the substantiality of the human soul itself. The modern expositor of Hume, who revives that great sceptic’s objections to the existence of God, revives also his objections to the doctrine of immortality, and says that ‘having arrived at the conclusion that the conception of a soul, as a substantive thing, is a mere figment r Rom. i. 20. TT. of the Conscience. 51 of the imagination, and that whether it exists or not we can by no possibility know anything about it, the enquiry as to the durability of the soul may seem superfluous’.’ Such a statement may well be regarded as the reductio ad absurdum of all these intellectual objections to the great truths of Revelation. When such arguments, candidly and severely pushed to their conclusion, come to this, that they leave us in doubt whether there is any substantiality in our own souls, it ceases, at all events, to be possible to regulate our beliefs and our conduct by them. The Christian need hardly ask more than that his belief in God should be as certain as that in his own substance and identity, and it now seems definitely admitted that it is, to say the least, not more uncertain. It may, indeed, be permissible to observe, after thus pointing out some of the considerations which justify the first and primary act of faith, that there is really something intolerable, and revolting to good sense, in much of the philosophical argumentation with which it is now too often attempted to under- mine this great belief. No word of disrespect to philosophy or science will be heard in these Lectures, for nothing could be more alien from either the intention or the sympathy which prompts them. Philosophy and Science are the children of Faith, and however they may be from time to time mis- represented, she can never doubt their loyalty to her. But it is a somewhat severe trial of patience 8 Professor Huxley on Hume, p. 172. EK 2 52 The Faith [Lecr. that mental or physical philosophers should confine themselves to the facts they can observe within the range of their special studies or in their laboratories, and should erect the conceptions which they thus find themselves able to form respecting the existence of God into crucial tests, by virtue of which they set aside the deepest moral and spiritual experiences of mankind. Those experiences are the most mo- mentous of all the facts in the case; and if an equal amount of scientific experience and scientific convic- tion were treated by a theologian with the cool indifference exhibited towards religious faith by Hume, and by some modern philosophers, he would be treated as almost beyond the pale of reasoning. Belief in God has been embedded from the earliest centuries in the deepest moral convictions of our race; and a philosophy which is content to criticize beliefs thus authenticated, instead of treating them as the most momentous premisses with which it has to deal, places itself practically out of court. On what conceivable principle of reasoning or of philosophizing are we to bid a Paul, a John, an Athanasius, an Augustine, an Anselm, a Luther, a Pascal, a Newton, to stand aside, and to be silent on the mightiest of all truths, until a modern phi- losopher has reconciled their convictions with his syllogisms, or a modern man of science has found material traces of them in his crucible? Nay! We must ask, with far greater amazement, on what ground a mightier Witness still is similarly set aside, IT.] of the Conscience. 53 until philosophy has pronounced that His testimony is admissible. In the language and the life of our Lord the deepest apprehension of moral truth is bound up with the apprehension of God in His most personal character as a Father; and this fact affords the final practical answer to the objections which have been considered. There is, indeed, a presumptuous flippancy which deems itself capable of distinguishing between the essential and non- essential elements in His teaching, and of setting the latter aside. But no such presumption can go so far as to deny that in His mind and heart the two elements were united; and this is a fact of more weight than any amount of dubious specula- tion. For the purpose of illustrating the nature and limits of faith, a consideration of its foundations in the conscience has been indispensable. But the final answer to all objections against belief in God is that the Lord Jesus Christ lived in it and died in it. One observation remains to be made, which will at once connect the argument of this Lecture with that of those which follow, and will associate it with the lessons of this season of Lent. So far as these considerations are valid, they establish the fact, not merely that there is a personal God, of all righteous- ness and power, but that we are in direct contact with Him, that His voice is heard within us, and that in every act and thought of our lives we are accountable to Him, and must look alike for punish- ment and for reward at His hands. It is no matter 54. The Faith of the Conscience. of theory we have been considering, but the most vital of all living realities. The Bible reveals to us, not the mere opinions of prophets and saints respecting God, but the words He spoke to their hearts, and the responses they made to Him. Let us not content ourselves, for instance, in reading the early experiences of the patriarchs, with the bald and abstract statement, now too often to be met with, that they believed in one God, or were the assertors of Monotheism. It is not as Monotheists, or as Deists, that Abraham and the patriarchs are con- spicuous ; but as men who, in the depths of their nature, communed with a personal God, who, in the expressive phrase of the sacred writer, ‘walked with God,’ and to whom He spake face to face, or heart to heart, ‘as a man speaketh unto his friend.’ Such is the vital character of the primary principle of Faith. Under this guidance we are led, as we shall see, to anticipate a further revelation from the God of whom we are assured, while at the same time we are furnished with the conditions necessary for test- ing it. But at least we may be animated, like the patriarchs, in our daily lives by the conviction, not merely that God is, but ‘that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.’ LECTURE III. THE WITNESS TO REVELATION. HEBREWS i. 1, 2. God, who at sundry times, and in divers manners, spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Son. IT has been shewn in the preceding Lecture that the primary dictates of the conscience afford impe- rious reasons for believing in a Living God—right- eous, almighty, and personal in His relations to us. Ifthe demands of our moral nature are to be satisfied, if they are to receive a complete sanction in particular as well as in general, in respect to the individual as well as in the main course of affairs, we need not merely a Power, but a Person, who, by virtue of His personal qualities, will be able to judge us individually, alike with justice and with mercy, according to our works, our words and our thoughts, who by virtue of His omniscience will be acquainted with all our ways, and by virtue of His omnipotence will be able to execute His judgments completely either here or hereafter. That this is the natural 56 The Witness [Lecr. dictate of the conscience is, as we observed, no mere speculation. To this conviction, as a matter of fact, the most earnest moral philosophy has always pointed, and it attained its most intense and vivid form in that people upon whom, by general admis- sion, the deepest moral and spiritual perceptions were bestowed. The 139th Psalm, for instance, embodies the convictions to which the Hebrew mind was forced by its profound apprehension of moral realities and necessities. It is a Psalm which makes no reference to any external revelation. It appeals to the inner- most experiences of the soul; and it bears witness that the natural interpretation of those experiences is that the soul of man is in contact with an awful Being, from whom he cannot escape, who compasses his path and his lying down, who is acquainted with all his ways, who has beset him behind and before and laid His hand upon him. ‘Search me,’ the Psalmist is compelled to exclaim, ‘and know my heart, try me and know my thoughts, and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting 2.’ Such is the utterance of the voice of conscience when its tones are clearest, and when the inward ear is least obstructed. The soul which realises this inward witness, and thoroughly accepts it, may be said, like the Patriarch, to walk with God. ‘If I ascend into heaven,’ it exclaims, ‘Thou art there ; if I make my bed in hell, behold Thou art there ; if I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the &® Psalm cxxxix. 23, 24. PLT.) to Revelation. 57 uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me.’ From the dawn of revelation, as recorded in the Scriptures, the apprehension of God is marked by similar charac- teristics. ‘Noah,’ says the historian, ‘ was a just man, and perfect in his generations, and Noah walked with God b,’ If we are to interpret the growth of faith under the Divine guidance, and to vindicate its successive advances, it is necessary to lay the utmost stress upon this primary moral element in our apprehen- sion of the Divine Being. It may be said to be here that, for the practical purposes of revelation, we are furnished with the idea of God, with the very notion of the Divine Name. Whenever that idea has been mainly relegated to the sphere of the intellect, when men have been chiefly concerned to apprehend a first cause, or to rise by mere mental abstraction from the phenomena of the external universe to the one Reality which is before all things, and by which all things consist, the resulting conception has of necessity been something vast, vague, and intangible. To this predominance of intellectual over moral concep- tions in theosophic thought may be traced, in great measure, all schemes of philosophy which have been in opposition to Christianity, from those of the Gnostics to the Jewish and German speculations of the present century. The understanding soon loses itself in the labyrinth of its own infinite analysis, b Gen, vi. g. 58 The Witness [Lxecr. and distinct apprehensions of the Being after whom it is feeling rapidly fade away. But in the Scriptures, by virtue of God’s voice in the conscience, He comes home to men’s hearts, He is felt to be dealing with them in the most central and permanent part of their nature, and they have a real and living apprehension of Him as a personal Being, with whom they have to do. We are in conscious relation to Him, and He is In sympathy with us. His power and wisdom, contemplated in themselves, would remove Him to an incalculable distance from us; but as a God of justice and righteousness He works for human ends, and co-operates with the most intense of human energies. But imperiously as this belief is dictated by the deepest convictions of the conscience, one thing would seem to be requisite, sooner or later, in order to vindicate and support it, and that is that this righteous Being should visibly declare Himself. It is not indeed for us, in our ignorance, to speculate how or when, or to what extent, He should do so. But if, up to the present moment in history, through all the long struggles, the bitter sacrifices, the baffled aspirations, the keen disappointments of mankind, God’s voice had not been clearly heard, God’s arm had not been seen, God’s love had not been visibly manifested, the strain upon faith would have been immeasurably greater than it is at present. It may well be conceived, indeed, that there must have been something heroic, and beyond the capacity of our IIT. | to Revelation. 59 present mortal nature, in the faith which sustained the patriarchs and elders, in the days before Divine revelation had become historic, and had created a continuous chain of evidence to which it could appeal. There is something, for instance, profoundly pathetic in the exclamation attributed to the patriarch Job, ‘But where shall wisdom be found? and where is the place of understanding®?’ We contemplate him at the cutset of all human experience, beginning to realise the profound and mysterious complexity of life. He is standing, as it were, at the parting of the broad and narrow ways. Life stretches before him like the desert with which he was surrounded, and over which he travelled, with few and rare tracks across it, and the path still uncertain which led to the most precious of all human possessions. The path thereof, he exclaims, is one ‘which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture’s eye hath not seen ; the lions whelps have not trodden it, nor the fierce lion passed by it. Well might he exclaim, ‘Whence then cometh wisdom, and where is the place of understanding? seeing it is hid from the eyes of all living, and kept close from the fowls of the air. That, in such circumstances, he should have firmly grasped the conviction that ‘the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to depart from evil is understanding, may well be regarded as an heroic act of faith ; especially when we remember the extent to which men have wavered in this conviction, in ¢ Job xxvill. 12. 60 The Witness [Lucr. spite of far higher cultivation and longer experience. Abraham’s position was not unlike that m which Job is described; and when we are told that Abraham ‘believed in the Lord, it seems only natural and just it should be added, ‘and He counted it to him for righteousness?’ Whatever Abraham’s errors, that he should have believed God, that he should have recognised the Divine voice, trusted it above all things in heaven and earth, and that, in reliance on it, he should have taken the first step forwards into the new world which faith was destined to create—this, so far as is conceivable of any human act, merited the dis- tinction it received. He ‘ was strong in faith, giving glory to God .... and therefore it was imputed to him for righteousness ©.’ From such considerations as these we are led to the next great step in the development of faith— to the belief, namely, not merely that there is a God of all righteousness and power, with whom we have todo, but that He has given us a positive revelation ; that, as the text says, at sundry times, and in divers manners, He spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, and hath in these last days spoken unto us by His Sonf. This, perhaps, is a truth which at the present moment it 1s even more necessary to vindicate than those elementary principles we have already considered ; for this, unhappily, is not unfrequently ignored, if not denied, within the d Gen. xv. 6. e Rom. iv. 20-22. f Hebsis se: Pit,| to Revelation. 61 pale of the Church itself, and in the very name of Christianity. What, for instance, is the tendency of that rationalising theology to which reference has already been made, but to eliminate from the Gospel and from the Scriptures, as not essential to their essence, the assertions they put forward of actual Divine utterances, of positive communications made to man, by an authority external to him, respecting the will of God, the present condition, and the future destiny of mankind? Its avowed intention is to explain away that which is miraculous, supernatural and mysterious, and to reduce Christianity within the limits of what is simple, intelligible, and de- pendent solely on the dictates of enlightened natural morality. In Germany and Holland, and in this country, there is a school of writers who appear ready to say, with the author of the work entitled Supernatural Religion, that ‘it is singular how little there is in the supposed revelation of alleged infor- mation, however incredible, regarding that which is beyond the limits of human thoughts.’ To exhibit the ignorance or carelessness implied in such a statement, and the inadequacy of such a_ con- ception of our faith as is at all analogous to it, it would be enough to mention one cardinal article of Christian belief—that which St. Paul put in the very front of his appeal to the Athenians, and which is calculated to exert such a profound moral in- fluence on our whole nature—the belief, namely, that & Supernatural Religion, 4th ed., vol. ii. p. 490. 62 The Witness [ Lect. the Lord Jesus Christ will be the personal judge of every soul of man. But, of course, the vitality of such an article of faith stands or falls with the belief in a positive revelation from God. No conviction, however profound, of our Lord’s moral perfection can of itself justify the belief that He will hereafter personally judge us. That is a definite matter of fact, which we can only credit on His word, or on that of His Apostles ; and their assurance on such a point can have no validity, unless they speak with the express authority of that supreme Being, who, as St. Paul declares, ‘hath appointed a day, in the which He will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom He hath ordained h/ There is another point, of infinite importance to the human heart, in respect to which we are not less absolutely dependent upon positive Divine assurance. That point is the forgiveness of sins. It has been argued with terrible force by some sceptical writers that, in the regular course of nature, there is no room for remission of sini It is of the very essence of law to be inexorable, and to enforce remorselessly the consequences of its violation. In view of such considerations it is at least clear that we could have indulged no positive assurance of pardon, except on the express authority of Him who alone can forgive sins. The difficulty, indeed, has a still deeper foundation in practice than in theory; and it is not, perhaps, by sceptics that it is most h Acts xvii. 31. i See Note 5, Appendix. rit: to Revelation. 63 keenly felt. He who has"ever stood by the bedside of a fellow-sinner, passing amidst the pangs of a remorseful repentance into the presence of the Judge of quick and dead, and who has been appealed to, with all the earnestness and directness of a soul brought face to face with eternal realities, to state whether, and why, he is sure there is forgiveness of sins, will know how utterly inadequate to the need is any answer, but that God Himself has declared it. There are only two remedies for these agonies of the conscience. The one is to administer to the soul the opiate of excuses and palliations for sin; and this is the usual resource of other religions than the Christian, and of the world at large. The other is the express assurance of the forgiveness of sins, made on the authority of God Himself. It is strange it should be necessary thus to insist on the fact that the most precious and vital articles in our Creed are dependent upon express super- natural revelation ; but a loose habit of rationalisi ng the doctrines of the Gospel has spread far beyond avowedly sceptical circles, and produces the most injurious results in daily life. It would, for instance, be inconceivable that the profession of sceptical, and even of infidel, opinions should be regarded with so much indifference, even in nominally Christian so- ciety, and that laxity in submitting to the obligations of Christian worship should be viewed so lightly as is too often the case, were it not for the wide-spread admission among us of the original doubt of the 64 The Witness [Lrcr. tempter, ‘ Yea, hath God saidk?#’ That subtle ques- tion, which was at the root of the first temptation, is at the root of every temptation to which the soul of man is subjected. The men are rare, even if they exist, who can deliberately adopt the sentiment which Milton attributes to the devil, ‘ Evil, be thou my good,’ and who, in the full belief that God has uttered a command, can be indifferent to it. But they doubt whether He has really spoken. It is treated all around them as matter for speculation ; and they are tempted to run the risk of its not being really true. It seems necessary, moreover, to say that there is something astonishing in the levity with which this momentous question is treated by some of the most popular religious writers of the present day. Christians, for instance, are ridiculed for assuming an undue familiarity with God, and for pretending to a knowledge of His will and of His purposes, such as they may possess respecting each other! Now let it be granted that it has been one danger of theologians to assume too complete and systematic a knowledge of the Divine nature and dispensa- tions. It is an error, indeed, which has been often prompted, not by irreverence, but by faith. It has been stimulated by that principle with which the New Testament is instinct, a principle which also lies at the basis of modern science, that there is a k Gen. iii. 1. 1 St. Paul and Protestantism, by Mr. M. Arnold, p. 72. ITT.] to Revelation. 65 harmony between the reason of man and the reason of God; it has been encouraged by those words which perhaps, beyond all others, have elevated human thought: "Ev apyi jv 6 Adyos, Kat 6 Adyos jv 7 pos Tov Oedv, Kat Oeds Fv 6 Aoyos ™, But the Christian Church and the Christian Creed are not bound up with any of the theological systems which have been elaborated by individuals, and which by their grandeur and grasp have fascinated, from time to time, whole churches and successive generations. It is one of the commonest artifices of modern scepticism to assume that the schemes of theologians are the Creeds of the Church, and to charge our faith, for instance, with all the logical consequences of Cal- vinism. But deep as is the debt the Church owes, for various reasons and in various degrees, to the great Fathers and Divines who have endeavoured to penetrate into the mysteries of the revelation entrusted to her—to an Origen, an Augustine, an Anselm, a Luther, or a Calvin—she is independent of all of them, and superior to all; and it is at once a great injustice, and a great piece of ignorance, to hold her responsible for the imperfections of their systems. So far as it is simply against such systems, or their exaggerations, that the ridicule in question is directed, there is no need to discuss its applicability or good taste; it is sufficient to say that it is irrelevant to the question which is assumed to be at issue. m St. John i. 1. a) 66 The Witness [Lecr. When, indeed, we are charged with presumption in discussing the Divine will and the Divine character, the whole basis on which we stand must have been forgotten. We assume, not that we are intruding by our own reason into the awful secrets of the Divine nature, but that God has been graciously pleased to reveal His nature and His will to us, in certain measure, and under certain limitations. If He has done so—if there be but a serious probability ‘that He has done so—the presumptuousness surely is not on the side of those who, with whatever human errors and weaknesses, bend their minds and hearts to apprehend the revelation, to expound it, and to submit to it. It rests, on the contrary, with those who disregard it, who treat it as a subject for light literary mockery, or who exert their influence to divert from it the serious attention of the men of their age, and especially of its young men. If these elements of the Christian faith are to be called in question, let it be done with a due acknowledgment of the gravity of the issue. If our Lord be God, and if He and His Apostles have revealed to us, in any measure, the will and the nature of God, he who disparages or disregards that revelation is guilty of an offence against the human conscience and the human mind of the very highest gravity. The writers of the New Testament do not shrink from asserting the tremendous import of the claim they put for- ward. The writer of the Epistle from which the text is taken, for instance, proceeds immediately to ITT. to Revelation. 67 warn those whom he addresses of the consequences of neglecting the Divine revelation he announces. ‘How shall we escape if we neglect so great salva- tion, which at the first began to be spoken unto us by the Lord, and was confirmed unto us by them that heard Him, God also bearing them witness, both with signs and wonders, and with divers miracles and gifts of the Holy Ghost, according to His own will?’ The consequences which our Lord and His Apostles denounce upon disbelief are apt to sound harsh to our ears. But they are at least in full con- formity with the momentous character of the truths which are proclaimed. If the Christian faith reveals the profoundest truths ever opened to human ken, those who reject such an illumination must condemn themselves to a proportionately profound darkness. It is of the first importance, for the purposes of the present argument, to bear in mind the full gravity of these considerations; for it is only by reference to them that we can duly appreciate the evidence on which we build our faith in the authenticity of Divine revelation. When we proceed to enquire into the grounds on which we make this great step forwards in the life of faith, we are thrown back, in the first instance, upon certain testimony. Our Faith, indeed, as we shall see, rests ultimately upon an authority which is higher than that of any human witness. But it starts from the testimony of the Prophets and Apostles; and such considerations as | n Heb. ii. 3. F 2 68 The Witness [ Lect. have just been noticed exclude all reasonable doubt respecting the purport of that testimony, and the full consciousness of its meaning with which it was delivered. No serious criticism can question that, as a matter of fact, the Prophets and Apostles were con- vinced that they had received specific revelations from God. Thus Professor Kuenen, who has _ be- stowed immense labour and learning in order to disprove the belief that the prophets under the old dispensation spoke with any supernatural authority, frankly admits that they all claim to do so. ‘The canonical prophets,’ he says, ‘all, without distinction, are possessed by the consciousness that they pro- claim the word of Jahveh ... the first and the last words of the collection of the Prophetical books are words of Jahveh ; from the beginning to the end He is introduced as speaker by men who are persuaded that they can come forward as His interpreters °.’ If, indeed, there could be any doubt as to the meaning of such expressions, it would be dispelled by the light reflected back on them by similar statements in the New Testament. The question of the validity of testi- mony to a supernatural revelation may, in fact, be most conveniently considered in the case of the Apostles, as it there comes more completely within historic observation. If its validity in this instance be clearly shewn, we shall have discerned the method by which previous revelations may have been authen- © The Prophets and Prophecy in Israel, by Dr. A. Kuenen. Translated by the Rey. A. Milroy, 1877, pp. 74, 75: Er. | to Revelation. 69 ticated, and the general principle will be sufficiently established. There can, then, be no doubt whatever, as a matter of historic fact, that the Apostle Paul claimed to have received direct revelations from heaven. That he wrote the Epistle to the Galatians is unquestioned, and in the first chapter of that Epistle he bases the whole authority of his mes- sage upon an express Divine commission. He claims to be an Apostle, ‘not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ, and God the Father, who raised Him from the dead’ He certifies the Galatians that the Gospel which was _ preached of him was not after man, for, he says, ‘I neither received it of man, neither was I taught it, but by the revelation of Jesus Christ.’ He is so certain of that revelation that he warns them against being enticed by any apparent evidence to doubt it. ‘Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed. As we said before, so say I now again, if any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.’ It would be impos- sible to express a stronger, a more deliberate, and a more solemn conviction that St. Paul had received a supernatural communication of the will of God. The claim upon our faith asserted by our Lord must be reserved for separate discussion, as it stands upon far higher ground. The witness of the Apostles 70 The Witness [ Lect. must be vindicated independently; even to our- selves their testimony must be in great measure the foundation for our faith in Christ; and to the early Christians, before the gospels were written, that testimony was the only evidence they had of the claim of our Lord. It thus becomes necessary for us, in the first instance, to enquire what is the validity and force of the witness thus borne to facts so completely beyond the range of ordinary human experience. Now the more the gravity of this testimony is weighed, the more apparent will be the immense responsibility which a man takes upon himself in rejecting it. In such a case everything depends upon the moral weight to be assigned to the con- viction under which the testimony is delivered. If it were delivered by men who might be supposed not to appreciate the full solemnity of the words they uttered, by men, for instance, who had an imperfect appreciation of the awful majesty of the Being from whom they claimed to have received communications—if, again, it were accompanied by a weak apprehension of the moral gravity of the consequences it must involve—if it were associated with any marks of hallucination in respect to the ordinary affairs of life, or if 1t were connected, even remotely, with any unworthy moral or intellectual conceptions, it would justly be regarded, at the outset, with the gravest suspicionsP. These are P See a fuller discussion of this point in Note 6. III.] to Levelation. 71 points in which, even apart from the question of miraculous authentication, all other alleged revela- tions fail. In this place, where the honoured me- mory of the late Regius Professor of Divinity is still fresh and vivid, it would be equally pre- sumptuous and unnecessary to discuss the question of the value of miracles as the necessary guarantee of a revelation’. It is admitted on all hands that, without such credentials, a man cannot reasonably claim to be in possession of information beyond that open to ordinary men. But it is also admitted that the mere exertion of miraculous powers does not dispense with the necessity for strong moral evidence. We may, however, at least say that it proves the person who propounds the doctrine to possess powers, and to enjoy privileges, which are beyond the ordimary range of humanity, and which transcend our measurement. In other words, we cease to be competent judges of the full extent of such a witness's ability. He may, for ought we can judge, know things which are beyond human ex- perience, just as he can do things which are beyond human power. But when miraculous credentials are sustained and illustrated by the most exalted moral and intellectual qualifications, the combination of testimony seems to become overwhelming. The case may with advantage be stated in terms which are familiar to English students of theology. 4 The reference is to the late Dr, Mozley’s Bampton Lectures on Miracles. 72 The Witness [Lecr. Bishop Pearson’s analysis of the logical definition of Faith is eminently satisfactory, and is sufficient for the purpose of this argument’. ‘ Faith,’ as he defines it, ‘is an assent unto that which is credible, as credible ’—in other words, it is an assent on the ground of testimony, as distinguished from assent produced by immediate knowledge or mediately by ratiocination. Now, as he says, there are two quali- fications necessary in a witness—the one is ability, the other is integrity. But ability, in relation to this subject, must be taken in its amplest sense. It must be held to imply at once access to the necessary sources of knowledge, and the possession of the requisite capacity for duly appreciating the importance and purport of the truths or facts at- tested. Thus if we regard the case of a witness in a court of justice, it might be convenient to con- sider that three qualifications are required for his credibility. Our first enquiry would be whether he had the means of knowing that which he reported— whether, for instance, he was present at the scene of an alleged occurrence. The second would be whether he was truthful. But a third would be whether he possessed the moral or intellectual capacity for observing what he saw with due intelligence, and for appreciating its import. Now objections to the competence of the Apostles on the first point—that of the means of information open to them—may be regarded as rebutted by miracles. Of their compe- r Exposition of the Creed, Third Ed. pp. 1-15. IIf.] to Revelation. 73 tence in point of truthfulness no reasonable man doubts. There remains the third point—that of their capacity, and it is with this that we are now more immediately concerned. But it is in this point, perhaps, that their tes- timony possesses its chief weight. These men were not pagans by birth and education, and accus- tomed like Greeks to think lightly of a Divine Being, and of communications with Him. They were Jews, who had the third commandment continually before their eyes, and for whom the very name of God possessed an awful and almost unutterable so- lemnity. To a Pharisee of the Pharisees like St. Paul, the idea of a communication from God must have been far more overpowering than it is to a modern sceptic. The traditions of his nation, indeed, rendered him familiar with its possibility, but at the same time enhanced its solemnity. Neither in the prophets nor in the apostles is there any other feeling than that of supreme awe and responsibility in view of the tremendous privilege conferred upon them. ‘Woe is me,’ exclaims Isaiah, ‘for I am undone ; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips, for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts’.’ To quote again Professor Kuenen’s ac- knowledgment on this point, ‘We see here,’ he says, ‘men who can find no words sufficient to declare the might and majesty of Jahveb, who *® Isaiah vi, 5. 74. The Witness [ Lecr. have a deep and lively feeling of their own utter nothingness before Him, and nevertheless, in spite of the distance which separates them from Him, declare emphatically that they know His counsel and speak His wordt’ St. Paul again and again seems, as it were, to lay his hand upon his mouth in presence of the supreme Majesty and unap- proachableness of the God in whose name he is speaking. ‘O the depth of the riches, he ex- claims, ‘both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are His judgments, and His ways past finding out! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been His counsellor ? Or who hath first given to Him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again? For of Him, and through Him, and to Him_are all things; to whom be glory for ever, Amen", It is surely difficult to conceive a mental, moral and spiritual capacity more adequate to appreciate the profound import of the testimony which the Apostle delivered. Now are we not justified in saying that in view of such considerations the burden of proof is not, as seems often assumed, on the side of those who accept this testimony, but on that of those who reject it ? Here are several witnesses, respecting the profound depth of whose moral and religious nature there can be no doubt whatever, testifying to their own ' Kuenen’s Prophets and Prophecy in Israel, translated by Rey. A. Milroy, 1877, p. 76. 4 Rom. xi. 33-36. III.] to Revelation. 75 experience, in a matter which they know and feel to bear a moral and spiritual import of the most mo- mentous character. Can it be considered reasonable, is it consistent with common prudence, to put such evidence aside on the ground that it transcends our own experience, and is beyond our power of verification? It is not too much to say that this is to a large extent a question of the exercise of intellectual and moral modesty. A man must have avery surprising confidence in his own intelligence and moral discernment who can venture summarily to dismiss such statements as St. Paul’s as halluci- nations ; and accordingly it must be observed, as a matter of fact, that the critics who adopt such views display, as a rule, a self-confidence and a serene sense of superiority, which of itself is sufficient to disable their judgment in the matter. Some of them can treat St. Paul as a tutor would his pupil, can rearrange his thoughts, can point out to him which are important and which are unimportant, can indicate where he wanders from his subject, and where he has lost the clue to his own meaning’. Others, as we have seen, like the author of Super- natural Religion, can pronounce that, after all, there is not much beyond the range of human thought in St. Paul’s alleged revelations, and that we do not really lose anything by dismissing them as illusions. It is no wonder that men, who can treat apostles and evangelists on these terms of mental and moral Vv St. Paul and Protestantism, pp. 150-160. 76 The Witness [ Lect. equality, should reject their claims to supernatural information. But those who feel that, in reading the Gospels and Epistles, they are communing with moral and spiritual conceptions transcending any that are elsewhere to be met with, to whom almost every word brings home a sense of their own feebleness, sin, and ignorance, and of the moral and mental supremacy of the writers—such persons will judge very differ- ently of the claim of the apostles to be the recipients of a Divine revelation. They will feel that the case completely fulfils the requirement of Hume — that to prove a miracle, ‘the testimony be of such a kind that its falsehood would be more miraculous than the fact which it endeavours to establish.’ They will listen to such claims with awe, and they will either accept them with confidence and joy or will reject them with fear and trembling. In point of fact, the weight and force of all testimony to a supernatural religion must greatly depend on the degree in which the witness is felt to be in harmony with our deepest moral con- victions. No miracle would be adequate to con- vince a man that St. Paul brought a direct message from God unless he were sensible that, by means of that revelation, and in conjunction with it, the Apostle was appealing to his conscience, and pouring a new illumination upon his soul. ‘If they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead *. If aman w Essay on Miracles. Conclusion of Part i. x St. Luke xvi. 31. III.} to Revelation. Cu be not overwhelmed by the spiritual illumination of the Scriptures, if his whole nature be not stirred to its inmost recesses by a Psalm like the 139th, if he does not tremble before the heights and depths of spiritual realities there revealed to him, even the miracle of Easter day may fail to afford a sufficient answer to his doubts. In proportion as this moral and spiritual sensibility is dormant the faith of even professed Christians is but notional and tra- ditional, and is destitute of real life and stability. A prophet or an apostle who announces a revelation from God, and who claims our submission to it, appeals to us for trust; and that trust must depend, not merely upon the miracles he may be able to work, but also upon the moral authority he wields ; while this again will depend, not only upon the witness's moral depth and insight, but upon our own also. If we are spiritually enfeebled, we shall be incapable of appreciating his authority, and shall be insensible to the force with which he appeals to us. It will thus appear that, in respect to the second great step in faith, as in respect to the first, we are forced back on St. Paul's principle, that the real obstacle to faith is that men shrink from the severe moral strain which it requires. They do not like to retain God in their knowledge. A man’s belief in the existence of a living God with whom he is personally concerned depends on the intensity and vividness of the convictions of his conscience. If he is prepared to acquiesce in an imperfect vindica- 78 The Witness [Lecr. tion of right and wrong within his own soul and in the world at large, he may feel no necessity for the recognition of a personal Judge and Lord of all. Even if he admit theoretically the existence of such a supreme Being, yet if he fail to live in the realisation of it, if his conscience be allowed to slumber, the sacred writers who are the great mas- ters of the conscience will lose their hold on him, he will not be sensible that they speak with any overwhelming authority, and he will be prepared for attempts to explain away their testimony. As we saw at the outset, God is essentially the God of the conscience. In proportion as a message speaks to the conscience and is felt to touch its depths, will it be recognised as Divine ; and in proportion as a man shrinks from the intense penetration of that touch will he cease to recognize its author. It may, perhaps, be objected that to trace the rejection of apostolic testimony to this source is to pass an unwarranted judgment upon the moral disposition of unbelievers. Now, to a certain extent, such a judgment might be directly vindicated. There are, for instance, dangerous signs at the present day of a relaxation of moral tone in the literature of free- thinking. There is a tendency to palliate the offences of vicious characters, and to treat every sin as atoned for by intellectual brilliancy. But it is unnecessary to press this unwelcome consideration ; since it would be in the highest degree unjust to throw the whole blame of his error upon every individual who may be IIT.] to Revelation. 79 the victim of unbelief. We are all bound up together in this matter ; and the sins, the unfaithfulness, the lack of moral energy among Christians themselves contribute, to a terrible extent, to weaken the testi- mony to our faith. The ministers of God's word must bear their share in this responsibility. So far as they fail to exhibit the moral truth and spiritual force of that word, so far as they harden it, or obscure it, or misrepresent it, they contribute to weaken its appeal to the hearts and consciences of their fellows, and the result is seen in many an indirect and dis- tant injury to faith. It is the mission of the Church and its ministers to carry forward the work of the Apostles, by bearing witness to certain truths and revelations ; and if that witness be in any instance unworthily delivered, the force with which the truth appeals to the soul of man is proportionately weak- ened. It is unnecessary, in short, for the purpose of the present argument, to determine where the blame or the weakness lies. But it is to some such moral weakness, to some such eclipse of the moral light of life, that a loss of faith in the testimony of the Apostles of Christ, and of the Prophets of old time, must be attributed; and if faith is to be revivified, it must be by an appeal to the conscience, still more than to the intellect, of man. In short, if we push these considerations to their last stage, we shall find ourselves led to a still higher ground, on which St. Paul himself explicitly bases his testimony. If the voice of conscience is the 80 The Witness [ Lecr. voice of God, then, in the last resort, it is upon the witness of God Himself that faith rests. It is His voice within us, the witness of His Spirit, which authenticates the voice without us, and affords us the final assurance that an Apostle or a Prophet brings us a message from Him. So St. Paul declares to the Corinthians, ‘I brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God. I was with you in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling ; and my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of Gody. That demonstration of the Spirit and of power still attends the message of the Gospel, though in some respects in a less visible and miraculous form. In those words, ‘not which man’s wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth2,’ there still resides that power to turn men from darkness to light, to regenerate their moral energy, and to make them new creatures, which was, after all, the mightiest miracle of even Apostolic times. The words just quoted from the Apostle are a warning to us, that no ground short of this witness of God Himself will suffice to sustain, or to preserve uninjured, the edifice of faith; and they ought to be especially borne in mind in any attempt, such as that of these Lectures, to vindi- y 1 Cor. ii, 1-5. 2 x Cor, il. 12: III.] to Revelation. 81 cate our belief in Revelation. In proportion as our apprehension of His voice within our own souls is quickened, in that proportion shall we recognize the same voice in His Prophets and Apostles ; we shall feel a deepening conviction that they are speaking that which they know, and are testifying that which they have seen, and we shall finally acknowledge, with gratitude and perfect trust, that in these last days He hath spoken unto us by His Son ®. a See Note 7. LECTURE IV. THE FAITH OF THE OLD COVENANT. ISAIAH xlii. 5, 6. Thus saith God the Lord, He that created the heavens, and stretched them out ; He that spread forth the earth, and that which cometh out of it; He that giveth breath unto the people upon it, and spirit to them that walk therein: I the Lord have called thee in righteousness, and will hold thine hand, and will keep thee. IT has been the purpose of the second and third of these Lectures to vindicate the two principles which are at the foundation of Christian faith. The first is the truth that God is, and is the rewarder of them that diligently seek him—that in Him we live and move and have our being, and above all things our moral being. The second is that He has made definite revelations to us—that, at sundry times and in divers manners, He spake in times past unto our fathers by the prophets and apostles. Starting from these principles we may now proceed to consider the successive developments of Faith under this Divine inspiration and guidance; and accordingly the subject of the present Lecture will be the character of the revelation vouchsafed to the Jews, and the nature of the faith which it elicited. It is, The Faith of the Old Covenant. 83 however, necessary to keep this starting-point con- stantly in mind, as it determines the whole method of our interpretation of those Scriptures on which our subsequent arguments must be based. There is a prevalent tendency to reason upon this subject as if all we had to consider were the gradual advance of men, by force of their natural faculties, intellectual and moral, towards the knowledge of God. From this point of view, often unconsciously adopted, many modern critics appear to deem them- selves perfectly capable of measuring the full mean- ing of the Scriptures, and justified in bringing them to the test of a purely scientific and rational standard. But the whole attitude of our minds becomes dif- ferent when we once acknowledge that we are in the presence of Divine utterances, and that the Bible is not so much a record of the efforts of men to seek and find God, as a revelation of His gracious work in seeking them and guiding them. From the moment that any strong probability of this being the case is established, we are compelled to ap- proach the Scriptures in a different spirit from that in which we deal with other writings. We are led to expect that there must be much in them, and in the revelation they contain, which is beyond thé apprehension of any individual, and which, to the last, will exercise to the utmost the meditation and the experience of the Church. This observation is one which needs to be borne in mind, not merely in respect to direct assaults Ode 84 The Faith [Lcr. upon the Scriptures and the revelations they record, but in efforts to explain or to defend them. All schemes of sceptical or rationalistic interpretation of the Scriptures and of our Lord’s life are based upon the supposition that no statements are admis- sible and no acts credible which cannot be brought within the range of our rational comprehension. The most frequent examples of this spirit m the present day are to be seen in the numerous attempts which have been made to bring the history of the Gospels within the compass of ordinary historic development and of rational explanation. But if we have once reason to believe that our Lord’s utterances were Divine, all such attempts stand condemned beforehand. The first principle of a sound criticism must be a confession of its own incompetence to solve many of the problems which a Divine revelation must needs present. When, therefore, a commentator or a critic writes as though higher culture, or ad- vanced criticism, had enabled him to survey the Scriptures from the vantage ground of a superior in- telligence—when he thus deems himself qualified to transform the whole conception of spiritual truth expressed by the sacred writers, to present a different view of our Lord’s life from that of the Evan- gelists and the Apostles, to exhibit ‘the origins of Christianity’ with scientific precision, or to discrimi- nate between the essential and the non-essential in Apostolic teaching—in such a case it is possible he may make valuable contributions to our knowledge, IV.] of the Old Covenant. 85 but he at once stands discredited as an interpreter. We are in presence of words, and thoughts, and purposes, which are vastly beyond our grasp. The course of past history ought to be enough to shew us that the methods and designs of God are often utterly obscure to all natural apprehension, and that the mightiest influences for the future may lie hidden under the slightest words, and in the most insignifi- cant events. By means of faith we grasp the hand of an invisible guide, who has led His people on- wards, from step to step, along paths which were often shrouded in darkness on all sides; and there is no greater danger to which we are exposed than that of setting aside, because beyond our immediate comprehension, intimations of His will and expres- sions of His truth. But if, from the point of view which has been previously vindicated, these considerations involve a decisive condemnation of the rationalist, they afford no less valuable warning and advice to the apologist. In proportion to a man’s belief in the supernatural character of the revelation of the Scrip- tures will he avoid being over-anxious or hasty in explaining or defending it. His words will always be wary and often few; and the objections which will disturb him least are that some word or deed of our Lord, or some statement of the inspired writers, is beyond the apprehension of critics. He will frequently feel it sufficient to acknowledge the imperfection of his own intelligence and experience ; 86 The Faith [Lucr. and in respect to many difficulties he will feel justified in replying: ‘We are not careful to answer thee in this matter 2.’ These principles afford us a broad and deep foun- dation on which the main edifice of faith may be erected. They justify us in resting satisfied, for the purpose of our argument, with the general testimony of the Scripture records, notwithstanding the difh- culties with which they may be beset on certain points in their interpretation, or in the history of their composition. Criticism has now analysed un- sparingly the whole of those records ; and although some writers have reached very destructive conclu- sions, as was to be expected from the assumptions with which they started, the general result is to leave unshaken the chief evidence with which we have to deal. It is sufficient, for instance, to read Ewald, in order to be convinced that the substantial truth of the sacred narrative is unassailable, and that the really important questions at issue are not those of facts, but those of first principles. If a critic starts from the assumption that any interference with the course of nature, as observed in our daily life, is in- conceivable, he must needs exert himself to explain away all tokens of such interference ; and he may often be able to make out a very plausible account of the matter from his own point of view. There has never yet, however, been any attempt of this kind which did not, by its own confession, leave certain @ Dan. li. 16. IV.] of the Old Covenant. 87 points unexplained. The Christian interpretation of the history is, in this respect, in at least no worse a position than any other; while it has the un- questionable advantage that it takes the statements and narratives of Scripture, as a rule, in the simple meaning which they bear at first sight, and which they have always hitherto conveyed. Let it be once assumed, for the reasons previously assigned, that God has spoken to men not merely by their con- sciences, but by revelation from without—that His voice has been recognised and His words have been heard—and we feel ourselves at once in harmony with the interpretation which the Bible naturally suggests. Infinite care and labour will still be necessary in order to penetrate into its deeper secrets, and to elucidate the problems which it presents. But we may, without hesitation, accept it as what it professes to be—a record of Divine revelation, and of a divinely-ordered history ; and, for the general purposes now in view, we may submit ourselves in simplicity and confidence to the guidance of its plain and unsophisticated meaning. Approaching the subject in this spirit, there can be no difficulty in answering the question what, as a matter of fact, were the main elements of the faith of the Jews. If we enquire, in the first instance, into its substance, we shall be the better able to appreciate the authority on which it rested. Now it is marked by one conspicuous characteristic, re- specting which there seems no room for controversy. 88 The Faith [Lecr. The people of Israel lived in the firm belief, handed down from generation to generation, that they were in actual covenant with the God of their Fathers, with the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, with Jehovah who appeared to Moses. On this point even such destructive criticism as that of Professor Kuenen is explicit in its admissions. ‘The prophets of Jahveh, he says, ‘who laboured among the Israelites in the eighth century before our era, appeal to history to prove that Jahveh really stands in an entirely peculiar relation to that people. “Jahveh thy God from the land of Egypt:” in these words Hosea expresses a conviction which recurs in the other prophets. Although here the Exodus from Egypt is the starting- point, there are not wanting allusions to persons and events of a still earlier period from which we may infer that the bond between Jahveh and Israel had already been formed at that time. When, for in- stance, Micah writes: “ Thou wilt perform the truth to Jacob and the mercy to Abraham, which thou hast sworn unto our fathers from the days of old ;” then, in his opinion, the covenant between Jahveh and the Israelitish nation, which he also dates from the deliverance out of the house of bondage in Egypt, must have been already prepared before .’ This conviction is, in fact, beyond question, the central point in the national faith and the national life. Faith in the divine promise involved in that b The Religion of Israel, by Dr. A. Kuenen ; translated by A. H. May, 1874, Vol. I, p. 101. IV.] of the Old Covenant. 89 covenant sustained the faithful Jew through the bitter and prolonged agonies of his people, and ani- mated him in his intense attachment to those laws and customs, in the observance of which he deemed his own part in the covenant to consist. St. Peter summed up the deepest convictions of his country- men when he addressed them® as ‘the children of the prophets, and of the covenant which God made with our fathers, saying unto Abraham, And in thy seed shall all the kindreds of the earth be blessed.’ That covenant was as sacred to the Apostles as to the Jews who adhered to the old faith. They ap- pealed to it as the very warrant for the message with which they were entrusted; and St. Paul’s crucial argument against the permanent obligation of the whole Mosaic law is based on the unalter- able character and essential import of the original promise to Abraham*. From first to last, from the dawn of the sacred history to the proclamation of the Gospel, and from thence to the present day, this covenant constitutes the everlasting rock on which the edifice of Jewish faith and life is built. By an indissoluble bond, stamped upon his very flesh, every Jew was thus brought under a solemn engagement with the God of his fathers, and by an equally solemn engagement the God of his fathers became bound to him. Accordingly in the Decalogue, the brief but comprehensive summary of the prin- ciples of Israel’s faith and duty, the proclamation © Acts iii. 25. d Gal. iii. 15-18. 90 The Faith [Lecr. of this covenant is the foundation of the whole structure. ‘I am the Lord thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. Thou shalt have no other gods before me®.’ When the third commandment proceeds to declare that the Lord will not hold guiltless those who are false to engagements made in His Name, or who treat them as vain, the inviolable character of the covenant on both sides stands proclaimed as the primary law of the national life. There appears something entirely unique, and pro- foundly impressive, in the testimony thus borne through long ages by an undying race to the convic- tions of their fathers that they had received a solemn divine promise. That conviction, it is important to observe, appears as deep and firm in the earliest known history of the nation as in its later years. The prophets appeal to it as antecedent to their authority ; it is the basis of the history and not its result. It would appear very difficult to account for a conviction of this kind by any other explanation than the simple and natural one—that it was founded on a fact ; that an actual divine promise had been communicated to the fathers and founders of the Jewish nation, and had been subsequently confirmed by the prophetic voice, and by miraculous signs. But to appreciate the force of this consideration, it is necessary to examine more particularly the constituent elements of the faith embodied in the e Exodus xx. 2, 3. IV.] of the Old Covenant. 91 conviction in question. Of what character was the God from whom the promise was believed to have proceeded, and what was its purport? In order to answer these questions, it is again sufficient to con- sider certain broad facts which are independent of current controversy. Without entering into the critical questions which have been raised as to the composition of the Pentateuch, there can be no doubt that it embodies the sum and substance of the faith of the Jews, and of the Covenant under which they lived. Their latter history and the writings of their Prophets were but applications of the facts and principles declared in those five sacred books—illus- trations of them, and inspired comments upon them. They constituted specifically the Law, the original and unalterable basis of Jewish life and belief. On this foundation, as a matter of fact, the whole fabric with which we have to deal has been raised ; and the primary conceptions here presented constitute the great facts for which we have to account. What then, let us ask, is the opening revelation of the Book of the Covenant? It is conveyed in that first chapter of the book of Genesis, around which, for the last generation or two, so warm a controversy has raged, and which still seems to be regarded in some quarters as offering grave difli- culties to the claims of the Scriptures. Perhaps theologians are as much responsible for some of these difficulties as men of science, but under a large and generous treatment of the subject it will not 92 The Faith [ Lecr. only be seen that they disappear, but the chapter in question will be found one of the most pregnant revelations in the whole compass of the Scriptures. It displays before us a sublime vision of the creation of the heavens and the earth by the word of God. The sacred writer takes us back beyond all time, carries us in thought away from the earth on which we stand, above the height and beneath the depth, and reveals to us one Almighty God, who, by His mere will, called into being all the marvels of earth, and sea, and heaven. He passes in brief, but comprehensive, review every element of the external world—the light and the darkness, the clouds above and the water below, the dry land, the grass, the herbs, and the trees, the two great lights and the innumerable constellations of the heavens, the moving creature that hath life in the water, in the air, and on the land; and finally man, the most perfect of all creatures, and the master of them all; and as scene after scene passes before us, until the whole compass of nature has been re- viewed, we hear in impressive reiteration the words, ‘God said, and ‘It was so. A heathen writer has confessed the sublimity of the simple sentence, ‘ God said, Let there be light, and there was light, and it is obvious what an amazing idea of the Divine power and wisdom they convey to us. In intrinsic grandeur of conception they may well be compared with that sublime and awful chapter in the book of Job, where we read how the Lord answered Job EY. of the Old Covenant. 93 out of the whirlwind, and said: ‘Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare, if thou hast understanding. Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest? Or who hath stretched the line upon it? Whereupon are the foundations thereof fastened? or who hath laid the corner-stone thereof; when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy 2’ It was a description and a demand which might well cause the patriarch, as is said, to abhor himself, to lay his hand upon his mouth, and to repent in silence, and in dust and ashes. But there is some- thing even more full of awe in the simple declaration that all these marvellous creations were called into being by the mere word and will of God. Such is the main effect and substantial revelation of this chapter; and it may be well to observe that, when regarded from this point of view, the course of modern discovery, so far from diminishing its instructiveness, tends vastly to enhance it. If this be the main purpose of the sacred writer, it becomes a wholly subordinate question whether the discoveries of science respecting the past history of the globe correspond exactly to his narration. That was not the matter with which he was immediately concerned. The particular order in which the phe- nomena of nature are reviewed is no way essential to the exhibition of the great religious truth which it is the object of the writer to impress upon us. ! Job xxxviil. 4-7. 94 The Faith [Lxcr. This, however, renders it the more remarkable that, if the narration be taken in that broad and simple sense in which it is obviously intended, it is so far from being inconsistent with the revelations of science, that it might far more justly be regarded as a most comprehensive and expressive summary of their main result. The law of an orderly succession in creation, from lower types of nature to the higher, on which science now so urgently insists, is here con- spicuously expressed. But, at all events, the more we learn in these days of the antiquity, the complexity, the infinity of nature, the more wonderful and im- pressive must that reiterated declaration sound to our ears, ‘God said,’ and ‘It was so. The astronomer revealing a universe, compared with which the globe on which we live is but an inappreciable point, the student of the microscope displaying a not less end- less series of worlds within our own, the geologist unravelling the records of an almost interminable succession of life—each is but displaying a com- mentary which enables us the better to realize the majesty of that God, who was before all things, and by whom all things consist, who speaks and it is done, who commands and it stands fast. This opening chapter of revelation is, in short, most properly considered, not as a revelation of nature, but as a revelation of God. All the wonders of nature are reviewed and displayed so as to reflect the power and majesty of that great Being who created them. Such is the grand revelation with PY. of the Old Covenant. 95 which the Book of the Covenant opens; and it is in this profound realisation of God that the founda- tions of that Covenant were laid 8. Now with respect to the practical effect of the revelation of God thus conveyed to us, we are not left to our own speculation. We can appeal to the evidence of fact in a singularly interesting form. It was the custom in the Jewish Church to read in their synagogues selections from the prophets, illustrating the several portions of the Law. Accordingly, when the opening chapters of Genesis were read, that which we may call the second lesson of the synagogue was from the 5th verse of the 42nd chapter of Isaiah to the roth verse of the 43rd. We there possess what was regarded by the Jews as the practical commentary on the com- mencement of the book of Genesis ; and what is the burden of that great prophecy? It is that of the opening verses, which have been taken as the text of this Lecture. It proclaims a message from the Creator :—‘Thus saith God the Lord, He that created the heavens and stretched them out, He that spread forth the earth and that which cometh out of it ; He that giveth breath unto the people upon it, and spirit to them that walk therein.” So far we have a summary of the first chapter of Genesis, and an application of it to the purpose just indicated —the description of God. But the prophet is com- missioned to announce what this Lord, the Creator & See Note 7 A. 96 The Faith [Lecr. of heaven and earth, saith to his Servant, and to the people of Israel so far as they were one with that Servant, and to what purpose this revelation of His infinite power and wisdom is to be applied. ‘Thus, he proceeds, ‘saith God the Lord... I the Lord have called thee in righteousness, and will hold thine hand, and will keep thee, and will give thee for a covenant of the people, for a light of the Gentiles” Throughout the Scriptures no grander or more marvellous utterance is to be found. If the opening revelation of the book of Genesis be overwhelming in its awful majesty, not less overpowering in its graciousness is the assurance here conveyed, that the people of Israel were in covenant with the Almighty Creator, and were privi- leged to appropriate all that awe, all that might and majesty, as bestowed upon themselves, for their righteousness, their support, and their protection, and that they were thus to become ‘a light of the Gentiles’—the instruments as they have undoubtedly been, of an universal moral enlightenment. Consider, for a moment, what a very different effect such a revelation as we have been contem- plating might have produced. The Psalmist, in one place, describes the natural influence of such contemplations. ‘When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars which Thou hast ordained; what is man, that Thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that Thou visitest him)?’ Tf, without any condescension h Ps. vill. 3, 4. EY.| the Old Covenant. 97 to our weakness, God were simply to stand before us in His majesty as a Creator, ‘the spirit would fail before Him, and the souls which He has madei’ The mere facts of nature, such as earthquakes, storms, and eclipses have been, to the vast majority of mankind a source of overpowering terror, driving them to all the devices of superstition. How much more terrible would be the naked vision of Him, whose voice is the thunder, at whose look the earth trembles, at whose touch the hills smoke. The enemies of religion have sometimes denounced it as a device of priests and kings to keep men in subjection ; they have alleged that it tends to make men timorous, and deprives them of independence. It is perfectly true that it has often done so, and that in some cases it does so still at the present day, especially in heathen countries. It is also true that it must of necessity have this effect, so far as God is simply represented to men in the character of an Almighty Creator. But how completely is the effect reversed, when we add to that revelation these wonderful words, ‘I, the Lord, have called thee in righteous- ness, and will hold thine hand, and will keep thee.’ From the moment that message is received into the heart, everything there is of awe, might, and majesty in the revelation of God becomes the source of confidence, hope, security, and dignity, in the soul of man. The power and wisdom revealed to us in the record of creation become our refuge and our | i Is, lvii. 16. H 98 ” The Faith of [Lxct. strength ; they expel from the mind all selfish fear, they lift it out of all slavery, they bestow on it an independence not less than that of the will of God, they assure us that we are superior to heaven and earth, to death and hell, and to all created things. He who can say, ‘The Lord is on my side,’ must at least add, ‘I will not fear what man can do unto me *;’ but he may also stand unshaken in soul amidst the shock of worlds. We thus perceive, that in the first chapter of his work, the Hebrew lawgiver established the founda- tion on which he could rear the edifice of an indepen- dent, a righteous and a true, because a fearless people. He brought them a message from God, and they asked him, Who is the Lord? and he answered, ‘He that created the heavens, and stretched them out, He that spread forth the earth and that which cometh out of it, He that giveth breath unto the people upon it, and spirit to them that walk therein ;’ and ‘thus’ he added, in other words from the same passage! ‘Thus saith the Lord that created thee, O Jacob, and He that formed thee, O Israel, Fear not, for I have redeemed thee ; I have called thee by thy name, thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee ; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. For Iam the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour.’ k Pg, cxviii. 6. 1 Tsaiah xliii, 1. IV.] the Old Covenant. 99 There are thus these two primary elements in the faith of the Jews—first, the belief in a God who made the heavens and the earth ; and secondly, the belief that, if we submit ourselves to His will, He graciously exerts His might, wisdom, and right- eousness for our salvation, and that He lifts us into fellowship with Himself. This conviction is, in fact, implied in a striking and pregnant expression in the first chapter of Genesis itself. We read that God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.’ In what was that likeness to consist? It is explained as consisting in a resemblance to those very attributes which had just been so gloriously manifested. ‘Let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.’ ‘God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth and subdue it, and have dominion. What words are these to be addressed to so weak and feeble a creature, and what a source of confidence, hope, and conscious power do they not afford! How deeply this teaching entered into the spirit of the Jews is shewn by the Psalms. There is no more striking instance than the Psalm ™ which is read at the commencement of morning service. It recites how ‘the Lord is a great God, and a great King above all gods,’ that ‘in His hand are all the corners of the earth, and the strength of m Ps. xcv. Et 2 100 The Faith of [Lrcr. the hills is His also.’ Here is the first of the two principles just mentioned; and it is indissolubly united with the second: ‘let us heartily rejoice in the strength of our salvation . .. for He is the Lord our God, and we are the people of His pasture, and the sheep of His hand’ It is this combina- tion of principles which is constantly applied to sustain the servants of God in adhering to Him, and obeying His laws, in spite of all temptations and distresses. The Lord of heaven and earth had called the Psalmists and the whole Hebrew people by their name, and they could follow His call, though earth and heaven should seem arrayed against them. When, in short, a man can begin a Psalm with the words, ‘The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handi- work, and can end it with the words, ‘O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer™, he has grasped the essential elements of a true faith, and is superior to all powers that can assail him. But another momentous element in this faith must be apprehended before we can realize its full depth and grandeur. The God who was thus supreme in his infinite elevation above all created things was similarly exalted in his moral attributes, and was incapable of tolerating moral evil in his presence. The two conceptions of moral elevation and of un- approachable majesty are everywhere united. When the Prophet Isaiah saw the Lord ‘sitting upon a n Ps, xix. IV.] the Old Covenant. 101 throne, high and lifted up,’ the Seraphim who stood above it cried one unto another, and said, ‘ Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord of Hosts: the whole earth is full of His glory®.’ He is ‘the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy,’ and He dwells ‘in the high and holy placeP. By this combination the idea of holiness is exalted to an inconceivable height, while that of majesty and power is invested with the intensest moral significance. ‘The Lord is righteous in all His ways, and holy in all His works4” In one verse the Psalmist exclaims, ‘Men shall speak of the might of thy terrible acts, and I will declare thy greatness; in the next he says, ‘They shall abundantly utter the memory of thy great goodness, and shall sing of thy righteous- ness'.’ The Divine laws and commands, accordingly, of whatever kind, are essentially righteous in their character and purpose, and all moral and spiritual blessedness is found in the path of them. ‘ Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly ... but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law doth he meditate day and might 8.’ The privilege of the Jew is to have this righteousness revealed to him, and to be thus introduced into union and covenant with God. ‘He sheweth His word unto Jacob, His statutes and His judgments unto Israel. He hath not dealt so with any nation, and as for His judgments they have not known them t,’ © Is. vi. 1-3. P Is, lvii. 15. q) Ps: oxly. 17. r Ps. cxlv. 6, 7. ae aw Ee ee t Ps. cxlvii. 19, 20. 102 The Faith of [Lxcr. From this truth, in fact, no less than from that of God’s creative majesty, the primary revelation of the Lawgiver starts. It has been observed by Lord Bacon in how striking a connexion the sacred his- torian passes from the record of the creation to a description of man’s moral lapse, and how vivid and profound is the account thus given of the moral position of mankind". Placed in the Garden of Eden to dress it and to keep it, man could not be content with this simple duty, but entangled himself in speculations respecting what was abstractedly good and evil, and as a natural consequence, yielded to the first temptation which suggested to him a shorter and a pleasanter path to the full enjoyment of his life. How true a picture this is of human nature let the great drama of Goethe, or the last utterances of German pessimist philosophy, in Schopenhauer or Von Hartmann, be the witness. Such reflections should at least suffice to convince us that these por- tions of the primeval revelation cannot, even in the present day, be too deeply pondered. But apart from these profound speculations, there must be few persons, learned or simple, who can read the narrative of the first sin without feeling that, whether history, or allegory, or both, it still affords the most vivid of all pictures of their own experience under temptation, and a clear revelation of the essential movements of moral life. The doubt first suggested respecting the u Prof. ad Inst. Mag. at the close. See also his Confession of Fatth. TV.) the Old Covenant. 103 truth, or the obligation, of a known command ; the speculation about it, the subtle suggestion that we shall not surely reap the consequences which we have been told will follow on its infraction, the dwelling upon the forbidden fruit until everything is forgotten except that the tree is good for food and pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, so that we take thereof and eat, and give unto others and they eat,—all this has surely been the experience of every person in this congregation. Not less true to every-day experience of human nature is the recurrence of the voice of the Lord God when the sin has been committed, the shrinking from it, and the vain effort to hide ourselves amidst the trees of the garden—perhaps amidst the pleasures and the excitements of the world ; and finally, the persistent excuses with which, in spite of a sense of guilt, we attempt to throw the blame of our fall on others; and the justice with which, in the Divine judgment, both we and they are held responsible. Whatever criticism may ultimately decide with respect to the human authorship of this narrative, its amazing practical truth would alone bespeak a more than human origin. When it is combined with the first chapter, so as to reveal God to us in His character as a God of righteousness no less than as a God of power, we have presented to us, in brief and vivid imagery, the whole substance of the subsequent history and revelation. This conception, in fact, of a God at once all- 104 The Faith of [Lecr. righteous and almighty rendered indispensable, in proportion as it was realized, the provision of some means of mediation and reconciliation between Him and His frail and sinful people. Step by step, accordingly, as the apprehension of the Divine cha- racter deepened, did the revelation of the necessity of an Atonement, and of its method, advance. When the Lord revealed himself at Sinai and embodied in the Ten Commandments the substance of His name and His will, He established also a system of sacrifices which at once prefigured and interpreted the one great Sacrifice by which the one Mediator should finally reconcile God and Man. Subsequently, in proportion as the Prophets entered more and more deeply into a knowledge of the infinite righteousness of God, did they also attain a clearer vision of the coming Mediator and of His work. For these reasons the idea of Atonement tends in an ever-increasing degree to become the centre of Jewish faith. A God of all righteousness as well as of all power could not but be a God of deliverance as well as of moral indignation and jealousy; and the problem over which seers and priests brooded was by what method these ilimitable and conflicting attributes could be har- monized in the Divine dealings with men. He, in His grace and condescension, vouchsafed to enter into covenant with them. But notwithstanding this assurance, what a gulf did not their sinfulness create between themselves and Him, and how powerless were they to overpass it! Such a covenant, to endure the PV.| the Old Covenant. 105 terrible strain upon it, must be embodied in some- thing stronger and more permanent than external ordinances. It must be embodied in an Eternal High Priest, who should offer one sacrifice for sins for ever, and establish the union between God and man on the unchangeable foundation of His own Divine and human life. Now in proportion as we appreciate the transcen- dent grandeur of this faith, shall we also appreciate the necessity of positive Divine assurances on which it may be based. We have the evidence all around us, in those eclipses of faith against which we have to contend, of the extreme difficulty of retaining a firm grasp of such convictions as have been de- scribed ; and it was, in fact, even more difficult to maintain that grasp among the Jews than among ourselves. The very substance, accordingly, of this faith constitutes of itself a momentous testimony to the fact that it was not based upon mere hopes and the conclusions of reason. No purely human philosophy has ever led men to sucha height. Its attainment is consistently attributed to the express promise and interposition of God; and the awful conception entertained of the Divine character by those who bore witness to these promises, their in- tense conviction that they were speaking in the presence of One whose righteousness was as a consuming fire, gives an immeasurable weight to their testimony. The sacred history proceeds to record a series of miraculous utterances, all instinct 106 The Faith of [Lzcr. with one character—that they are the utterances of a deliverer from unrighteousness and from its ruinous consequences ; and they are all accompanied with vast promises. Abraham, when struggling with the idolatry around him, combating strenu- ously, as Ewald describes himY, among his nearest kindred and in his own house, with the seductions of ripening heathenism, and with men corrupted - by them, is summoned, by a voice which speaks direct to his conscience, to leave his country and his kindred, and his father’s house, and to go into an unknown land; and a promise is given to him, and miraculously authenticated, which becomes the starting-point of a new life to the world—that in him should ‘all families of the earth be blessed.’ From that moment, as is partly indicated by the meaning of the Hebrew word for faith, he and his de- scendants become firm and steadfast. They are the fixed centre of all the revolutions in the world around them. Everything may change, and any apparent disaster may happen, but to them and to their seed has the promise been made, and it will be assuredly fulfilled. They are in the hands of the Lord of heaven and earth, who has called them by their name and delivered them. Their life is based upon faith in this direct promise by a Divine Person; and the whole subsequent history is but the development of its meaning. St. Paul accordingly discerned the entire v The History of Israel, by H. Ewald, edited by R. Martineau, M.A. Second Edition, 1869, vol. i. pp. 322, 323. IV.] the Old Covenant. 107 substance of Jewish faith in Abraham, who believed God, and to whom it was counted for righteousness. It was the mission of the Prophets from time to time to revive and deepen the faith of the people in these assurances by intensifying their apprehension of the nature and the character of God. Under this inspired guidance, the true meaning of the promises became more and more clear, until it was dimly realised that they could only be fulfilled in a Messiah and Redeemer. The holiest souls turned more and more in prayer and trust to the God of their fathers, waiting for the consolation of Israel. The law given by Moses remains, however, the most conspicuous witness to a great deliverance from moral and physical evil, and was the abiding means of working out that deliverance in history, The Jews, like their great ancestor, were struggling against the Egyptian idolatry, and were in danger of being absolutely enslaved to it, when the Lord of heaven and earth, the Master of all the powers of nature, interposed in their behalf, and declared Him- self, by mighty signs and wonders, their Deliverer. That Jehovah is the Deliverer is the preamble of the Ten Commandments, and the teaching of the whole Pentateuch. The law, moreover, contains a further assurance of deliverance in the sacrifices which are ordained for the expiation of sin, thus assuring the people, by types and figures, that the one insuperable obstacle to their communion with Jehovah would be removed. The giving of the law, as is remarked 108 The Faith of [ment by Ewald, is accompanied by every circumstance which could stamp on the mind of the people the fact of its proceeding from a personal Deliverer. Then first, he says, ‘the great “I” stands de- cisively opposed to the “I” of men.’ ‘This great omnipotent “I” thus becomes manifest through the prophet, and he and the people bow them- selves before it in obedience and trust. ‘I am the Lord thy God, that brought thee out of the land of Egypt. Thou shalt have none other gods but me’—here is at once a command, a promise, an assurance of future deliverance, and a direct personal appeal. Those words,read by the wise direction of our reformers Sunday after Sunday, for three centuries, in all the churches of England, serve to bring before the minds of the people, with the utmost force and vividness, those conceptions of a personal Lord, a just God and a Saviour, of His direct claim on us and of His gracious promise to us, which mere philosophy, and even some forms of morality and religion, would reject. So long as they are read —and may the day never come when they will cease to be thus forced on our attention—they will bear testimony to the truth, that faith in a personal, a righteous, and an omnipotent God, trust in Him, and obedience to Him in His personal character, is the very substance and foundation of sound morality, as well as of true religion. In conclusion, accordingly, it will be structive to w History of Israel, edited by R. Martineau, vol. ii, p. 129. IV.] the Old Covenant. 109 observe, especially with reference to the subject we have more particularly in view, that the decay of true faith, and of a vital morality, among the Jews is historically marked by a loss of this vivid con- ception of God and of His communion with men. ‘The whole of the internal weakness and_per- verseness of the hagiocracy’—to quote again from Ewald*—‘ betrays itself in the one small, but signi- ficant circumstance of its treatment of the name of God. Desirous to maintain the infinite sanctity of the venerable name of Jahveh, and fearful of degrading it, they ordained that it should never be pronounced at all, and so allowed this glorious ancient name to le in absolute obscurity behind a perpetual veil... The name of the true God was now suspended at an infinite distance, high above all the present scene of existence.’ Consequently, ‘this God of the ancient community, though men feared His name above all things, and desired utterly to surrender themselves to Him in deepest awe, was in reality ever retirmg further and further from them into a mysterious distance; and while they were restrained by their scruples from looking into His face, or calling on Him by His true name, they were really losing him more and more; so unde- signed was this most significant of all the signs of Israel’s last great era. Does not this description present a startling resemblance to the efforts now so persistently made among ourselves, often in the x History of Israel, vol. v. pp. 198, 199. See Note 8. 110 The Faith of the Old Covenant. alleged interests of morality, of law, and even of the dignity and sanctity of the Godhead, to divert us from attempts to realise His personal character, and to enter into personal communion with Him ? It was when Israel lost their apprehension of the kinship of God with their own souls, when they ceased to apprehend their Creator directly as their personal Redeemer from sin and evil, when they failed to realise that He had called them by their “name and had revealed to them His own name, when the covenant thus became a formality to them, it was then that they were on the verge of that terrible blindness and hardness of heart, which issued in their final and disastrous fall. Let us be warned by such an example, and let us cling with all our souls to the faith of the Psalmist :-— ‘Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, Whose hope is in the Lord his God, Which made heaven and earth, The sea, and all that therein is; Which keepeth truth for ever ; Which executeth judgment for the oppressed : Which giveth food to the hungry. * xk *k x The Lord shall reign for ever, Even thy God, O Zion, unto all generations. Praise ye the Lordy.’ y Ps, exlvi. 5-10. EECTUBE) 1. OUR LORD'S DEMAND FOR FAITH. St. MarrHew xi. 25-27. At that time Jesus answered and said, I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven. and earth, because Thow hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes. Lven so, Father: for so it seemed good in Thy sight. All things are delivered unto me of my Father: and-no man knoweth the Son, but the Father ; neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him. HAVING considered the nature of faith under the old dispensation, its substance, and the grounds upon which it rested, it becomes our duty in the present Lecture to pass to the next great development of faith, as called forth by our Lord Jesus Christ. It is here that faith assumes at last its full proportions, and finally claims its position as the cardinal virtue of man’s nature. The very word started into a sudden life in the writings of the New Testament ?; and although St. Paul discerned the primary example of faith, and the germ of its ultimate development, in the obedience of Abraham, he speaks sometimes as though it had first sprung into full vitality under the gospel. ‘Therein is the righteousness of a See Note 9. 112 Our Lord’s demand [Lecr. God revealed from faith to faith.’ ‘Before faith came we were kept under the law, shut up unto the faith which should afterwards be revealed°’ Its importance, in fact, became more fully recognised in proportion as its object was more vividly ap- prehended, and as the assurances on which it could rest became more firm and definite. By the coming of our Lord former promises had been fulfilled, and still larger promises were opened; and faith could start from a loftier altitude for a still bolder and a nobler flight. The prominence which our Lord gives to faith and the supreme importance He attaches to it are still more remarkable. Faith is the virtue on which He bestows His highest praise, while it was the one thing He declared indispensable for the reception of His blessings“. A striking illustration of the manner in which He regarded it is afforded by those occa- sions on which His wonder is said to have been evoked. In Him that emotion was called forth by causes very different from those by which it is ordinarily aroused among men. That which occa- sioned wonder to the Jews, and to our Lord’s followers, was the exhibition of His power over nature. The disciples on one occasion marvelled, and said, ‘What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Hime!’ It is still this characteristic in our Lord which chiefly excites b Rom; 1. 27. © ‘Gal. iii. 23, d St. Mark ix. 23. e St. Matt. vill. 27. Ls} for Faith. 113 wonder, as is proved by the common use of the word miracle. That word is exclusively applied to deeds of physical power, as though the only thing which could affect the mass of men with astonishment were that which is visible and startling to the senses. But with our Lord it is the very reverse. He never speaks as if there were anything strange or unnatural in the miracles He performs. He refers to them, indeed, as ‘mighty works,’ or rather as exertions of power, and as intended to impress us with a sense alike of his power and of his goodness. But to Himself they appear per- fectly natural and simple. There is a conspicuous absence of all effort about them. His wonderful cures, His raising of the dead, His miraculous ap- pearances to His disciples, all are performed with the quietness and ease which are characteristic of an irresistible force. Any display of effort is a reve- lation of weakness ; but our Lord ‘speaks and it is done, ‘He commands and it stands fast. It was by the phenomena of the moral world that His astonishment was occasioned—by its vast capacities on the one hand, and its terrible incapacities on the other. On the one hand, He marvelled at the faith manifested in the appeal of the Centurion, who bade Him speak the word only and his servant should be healed; and He expressed a similar ad- miration at a like display of faith in the Canaanitish woman’, On the other hand, when in His own f St. Matthew viii. 10; xv. 27. I 114 Our Lord's demand [Lecr. country, among His own kin, and in His own house, He found Himself without honour, so that He could not do any mighty work, save that He laid His hands on a few sick folk and healed them, we are told that ‘He marvelled because of their un- beliefs” The faith of which men are capable on the one hand, and the unbelief of which they are capable on the other—these are the only two things which are said to have evoked the wonder of the Lord Jesus. These, to His eye, were the only two real marvels exhibited during His ministry. There was indeed something amazing in the faith which He demanded. Of all the efforts of that minimising theology to which I have more than once referred, none is more extraordinary, none more in- capable of being reconciled with the elementary facts of the case, than those which would lower our Lord's claims in this respect, and reduce His work to that of a moral teacher, however eminent. The two cases just mentioned—of the Centurion and of the Canaanitish woman—may be regarded as the crucial instances of the faith He claimed. They are thus signalised by His own express description ; and that which they exhibit is an absolute and unlimited trust in Himself and in His will and power to save. Of course, if the lberty be assumed, as is always done by rationalistic theologians, or by sceptics, to rearrange the Gospels according to their & St. Mark vi. 6. Ya for Faith. 115 power of apprehending them, and to pick and choose as they please among the sayings and doings at- tributed to our Lord, it is very possible to represent Him as simply a moral teacher. But experience has already shewn the futility of attempts to reconstruct the history of our Lord in any other form than that in which it is presented to us. Such attempts have within the present generation been often made, and the results are so discordant as utterly to discredit each other. The interpretation, on the other hand, put upon the Gospels by the Church has from the first been one and consistent, and it is in harmony with the natural and obvious meaning of the sacred nar- rative. The Church alone is content to take the records as they stand, to abstain from arbitrary con- jecture, and to rely on their inherent truth and harmony. The faith, at all events, which we are now concerned to justify, was originally based, and is still based, upon this simple acceptance of the message of the Gospels. If they could be shown to be historically untrustworthy, we should have to deal with an entirely different problem. But while their testimony. remains in substance un- shaken, as is certainly the case, what we have to consider is the reasonableness of the human actions they narrate, and in particular of the faith which our Lord demanded and elicited. Unless, then, the sacred records are completely fallacious, our Lord must, from the very outset of His ministry, have assumed a position which made Ee 116 Our Lord’s demand [Lxcr. an immense claim on faith. He not only announced like His forerunner, that the kingdom of heaven was at hand, but He preached the gospel of the kingdom ; He spoke and acted as its ruler; and He promised all blessings and deliverances to those who trusted and obeyed Him. It is difficult for us to realise the momentous character of that proclamation at the time it was uttered; and more attention might perhaps, with advantage, be directed to the extraor- dinary prophetic power which was exhibited in our Lord and His apostles. They announced, before it occurred, an immense revolution in the moral and spiritual condition of mankind, and their predictions have been fulfilled to the letter. We look back on those days from the vantage-ground of the present. We know and feel, and see around us on all sides, what has been the power of Christ and Christ's Church. We behold a great tree, greater than all trees, with the birds of the air lodging in the branches thereof, and from thence we judge of the seed. But those who saw the seed sown had no such assistance to their judgment. Even with the support afforded by the miracles our Lord wrought, it must have needed a wonderful exercise of faith to make His promises respecting a kingdom of God the basis of a revolution in life and conduct, which placed men at variance with the whole world around them. Our Lord summoned His disciples to a career in which all visible experience would be against them, in which they would be despised, hated, and iv] Sor Faith. ah e's persecuted. From the first he never disguised from them that such would be their Jot in this life; and they had nothing but His word to assure them of their reward hereafter, and of the ultimate victory of their cause in the present world. The Beatitudes, for instance, which no one doubts to be among our Lord’s most characteristic utterances, are very much more than the mere commendations of certain moral and spiritual graces, which they are sometimes represented to be. They are promises and prophecies of future blessings, and they furnish ‘the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” When our Lord said, ‘ Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be com- forted, He was not merely depicting the natural consequences of a moral excellence ; He was giving a pledge on which sorrowing hearts might rest. Still more evidently, when He declares, ‘ Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven}, He uttered a promise which in after days, amidst the actual bitterness of persecution, must have demanded the deepest trust. In a word, our Lord presented Himself as the Saviour of men’s bodies and souls, here and hereafter. He asked His followers to place their whole fate in His hands, and to trust Him through the depths of tribulation, agony and death. h St. Matthew v. 11, 12. 118 Our Lord’s demand [Lecr. ‘In the world,’ He said plainly, ‘ ye shall have tribu- lation, but be of good cheer; I have overcome the worldi,’ This was the faith on which His highest praises were bestowed. It was a faith of this na- ture with which He inspired His Apostles, and by which they overcame the world. We have to enquire what was its justification, and how it was produced. The enquiry will be found to exhibit, in one vivid illustration, the cardinal elements of faith, and will afford a conclusive test of the justice of the principles which, in the course of the present argument, have been hitherto vindicated. It is to be observed, then, that our Lord’s appeal starts from an intense moral illumination, and the way was prepared for Him by calls to repentance more solemn and penetrating than had ever been heard, even in the course of Jewish history. John the Baptist, who was sent to prepare the way of the Lord, is the typical preacher of repentance ; and in the deep moral conditions he aroused were the paths made straight for our Lord’s advance. There is something peculiarly striking and instructive in the necessity, thus recognised, of a moral preparation before even our Lord, though supported by the testi- mony of His miracles, could come forward to assert His claim. But when He Himself appeared He laid the foundations of His work in similar exhortations, He, like His forerunner, is a preacher of repentance ; and He probes the hearts of His hearers with a depth i St. John xvi. 33. A for Faith. 119 and a severity which lay bare the very recesses of the soul. It is one of the strangest, and perhaps one of the most characteristic features of rationalising writers that this aspect of the Sermon on the Mount is so little appreciated by them, They applaud its ‘sublime morality,’ they condescend to pronounce that, in their opinion, no teacher has ever soared to such a height, and they would fain represent its moral teaching as the sum and substance of the Gospel. But unless a man be made in some other mould than his fellows, it is wonderful that he can read the Sermon on the Mount without trembling. In proportion to the beauty and the force of the moral truths it declares, is the spiritual and moral ruin it reveals among us, and the condemnation it pronounces upon every human soul. ‘ Whosoever shall be angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment.’ ‘ Whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath com- mitted adultery with her already in his heart. ‘If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee, for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.” ‘ With what judgment ye judge ye shall be judged, and with what measure ye mete it shall be measured to you again. The laws of Sinai, denouncing sinful acts amidst thunder and lightning, and with all the sanc- tion of the terrors of nature, are as nothing compared with this sword of the Spirit, piercing to the dividing 120 Our Lord’s demand [Lecr. asunder of the soul, discerning the very thoughts and intents of the heart, and denouncing the severest judgments upon mere words, and looks, and inclina- tions. The loftier and more spiritual the standard, the more utter appears our own failure to approach it, and the more disastrous must seem the consequences of our sins. If this be ‘the way of life, we feel, in- deed, that ‘ wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat ;’ while ‘strait is the gate and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.’ When the force of this aspect of the Sermon on the Mount is adequately brought home to a man’s conscience, his only fitting utterance is that of Job: ‘T have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth Thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashesk,” The wrath of God is revealed from heaven in that discourse with a terrible calm, which leaves a man desperate of all resources in himself, and compels him to ery for some deliver- ance from the body of death and evil which encom- passes him. Let it next be observed what are the means by which this intense and penetrating moral illumi- nation is produced. We here approach another point in which the Sermon on the Mount, considered as a typical instance of our Lord’s teaching, is at the present day most strangely and flagrantly mis- represented. It is the favourite contention of those k Job xlii, 5, 6. Me) Jor Faith. 121 who impugn the faith of the Church that the teaching of that sermon is purely moral and inde- pendent of theology. ‘It is undeniable,’ says the author of Supernatural Religion, with characteristic strength of assertion, ‘that the earliest teaching. of Jesus recorded in the Gospel which can be regarded as in any degree historical is pure morality almost, if not quite, free from theological dogmas. Morality was the essence of His system; theology was an after-thought!’ Two pages afterwards this writer states with perfect correctness, but with complete unconsciousness of inconsistency, that Christ’s system ‘confined itself to two fundamental principles, love to God and love to man.’ But is there no theology involved in teaching love to God? No theology in the belief that God is, and that He is the rewarder of them that diligently seek Him, and that in spite of all the difficulties, perplexities, and cruelties of the world, He is worthy of the whole love and trust of our hearts! Why, this is the very theological pro- blem which has racked the heart and brain of man from the dawn of religious thought to the present moment. On these two commandments—to which, in the curious phrase just quoted, Christ’s system is said to have ‘confined itself as though they were sight and simple—-on these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. They are the germ from which has sprung the whole theological thought of the Christian Church, and to which it 1 Supernatural Religion, 4th ed., vol. ii. pp. 486, 487-8. 122 Our Lord’s demand [Lecr. returns; and no theologian can wish to do more than to deepen his own apprehension of them, and to strengthen their hold upon others. With similar inconsistency, M. Renan declares that ‘we should seek in vain for a theological proposition in the Gospel ;’ and yet states, elsewhere, that ‘a lofty notion of the Divinity was in some sort the germ of our Lord’s whole being.’ ‘God,’ he adds, ‘is in Him; He feels Himself in communion with God ; and He draws from His heart that which He speaks of His Father ™’ These are strange inconsistencies. But there is nothing, perhaps, more fitted to warn a thoughtful mind, at the threshold of sceptical speculations, of their essential shallowness, than the manner in which the vastest conceptions and the profoundest problems are thus passed over, as it were, dryshod by such writers as have just been quoted. Truths are not to be regarded as simple merely because they are simply expressed ; and if, as appears to be admitted on all hands, our Lord adopted the cardinal principles of the Old Testament, and declared that the first and great commandment is ‘ thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength” He laid the basis of His teaching in the loftiest truth of theology. In the preface to one of the most popular of recent attempts to supersede the Church’s con- ception of our Lord’s life and work, it was explained m Vie de Jésus, pp. 462, 77, 78. n St. Mark xii. 30. V.] for Faith. 123 that the author proposed to furnish an answer to the question, ‘What was Christ’s object in founding the society which is called by His name, and how is it adapted to attain that object ° #’ But the author stated at the same time, as though it involved no inconsistency, that ‘No theological questions what- ever are here discussed.’ In other words, this writer started with the assumption that theology could be excluded alike from our Lord’s object and from His method, and that it had nothing to do with the purpose and the constitution of the Christian Church. This is, in fact, the primary principle from which attempts to explain away our faith now proceed. Around the question whether, and in what manner Christ revealed God, the battle rages, and to this it continually returns. Now we might be content to appeal for the decision of this question to the testimony of the Sermon on the Mount alone. If we ask, as has just been done, by what means the intense moral illumi- nation of that teaching is produced, we find that it is dependent at every step upon revelations of God's character and will. It is the vision of our Father in heaven which is presented to us con- tinuously as the lamp to our feet, and the light to our paths. ‘ Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. ‘Be ye therefore per- fect, even as your Father which is in heaven is ° From the Preface to Hece Homo. 124 Our Lord’s demand [Lecr. perfect. What is the reason alleged for the secret and inward pursuit of righteousness, as distinguished from mere external obedience? It is because ‘ our Father seeth in secret,’ and all things are naked and open unto the eyes of Him with whom we have to do. Why are we to seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, instead of taking thought for the things of this life, but because our heavenly Father knoweth that we have need of all these things? Or why are we bidden to pray, but because, if we, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto our children, how much more shall our Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask Him ? This element, in fact, in the Sermon on the Mount constitutes its most precious characteristic, and com- pletely transforms the aspect it would bear if re- garded simply as a moral exhortation. If it had been addressed to men standing alone in their natural condition, and if its censures and demands had been unsoftened by revelations of Divine grace, there might have seemed, as has just been said, something almost cruel in its terrible severity, in the relentlessness with which it exposes the fatal vice of even passing thoughts, and looks, and words, and in the narrowness and straitness of the path which it marks out. But it is not addressed to men in their natural condition. It is addressed by a Saviour to those whom he is ready to save, and to whom he is revealing that gracious gift of the Holy Spirit, of which it was His mission to win the full endowment We for Faith. 125 for mankind. Its teaching, in short, is clenched, and enforced, and rendered tolerable to our weakness by the Saviour’s Evangelical promise towards its close, ‘Ask, and it shall be given you’... For, as His assurance of ‘good things’ is interpreted in the parallel passage in St. Luke, ‘If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him Pp?’ There is, moreover, one simple piece of evidence afforded by the Sermon on the Mount, which alone suffices to exhibit the perversity of all attempts to deprive our Lord’s teaching of its theological element. It contains one short passage, which has asserted its hold over the minds of men, whatever their critical opinions, as embodying essentially the thoughts of our Lord. That passage is the Lord’s Prayer. No one, probably, would dispute that in that brief form of words we possess the very substance of the mind of Christ. But in the mere conception of prayer it involves the whole principle of our personal relation to God ; and its first two words imply the subsequent assurance, just referred to, that we can appeal to Him as children to a Father, and that we may look to Him for direct and special assistance in our needs. Its supplications then commence with the petition ‘Hallowed be Thy Name.’ If the order of the words be any guide to the meaning of a great utterance of this kind, we must assume that this petition is the P St. Luke x1. 13. 126 Our Lord's demand [Lucr. most momentous that can be offered by man to God, that it is the first step in the spiritual life, that on this being granted depend all the other blessings which the prayer solicits. Where that Name is known and recognised, a complete revolution in the moral position of man ensues ; a new heart is formed within him, and he lives by faith and prayer. When God’s true character is thus apprehended, men submit themselves cheerfully to His rule, and become loyal subjects of His kingdom, and in proportion as His kingdom comes, His will is done. But when we pray that His will may be done, we attribute to Him a nature analogous to our own in the most distinctly personal and human of our characteristics, and at the same time express the deepest trust in his good- ness and power. We are next taught to appeal to God for our simplest physical necessities, for the forgiveness of our trespasses, and for protection from temptation; while again, in the petition, ‘as we forgive them that trespass against us,’ the language of the Prayer expressly sanctions that so-called an- thropomorphism which it is now so much the fashion to denounce. In other words, the Lord’s Prayer brings a living God and His personal will into our life at every turn of it. Whether it be daily bread that we need, or deliverance from the profoundest forms of spiritual evil, it is to the good pleasure and the direct hand of God that we are instructed to look for it. If nothing else remained of our Lord’s teaching but this prayer, He would still have conveyed to us ‘A for Faith. 127 a comprehensive revelation of the existence and character of our Father in heaven, and of our rela- tion to Him. But this is only a single instance of that which is the main characteristic of our Lord’s life. In every act and word He is revealing God, and bring- ing that revelation to bear upon the hearts of men. The most characteristic incident of His childhood, that which alone was thought necessary to be re- corded, was that, on a visit to Jerusalem, He left His father and mother and went to the Temple, in order to sit at the feet of the Doctors ; and when His mother asked Him how He could give her the anxiety of such a search for Him, He expressed surprise at her not understanding that He was sure to be found in the Temple, His Father’s house 4. Such is the glimpse vouchsafed to us of our Saviour’s earliest consciousness, while He was still increasing ‘in wisdom and stature.” His heavenly Father absorbed His whole soul, and drew Him away from every other influence to the house and the word of God. He is next brought before us at His Baptism, and again this relation to the Father is the prominent feature in the scene. A voice is heard saying, ‘This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased" We follow Him to the temptation—the critical trial of His fitness for the awful ministry to which He was destined; and in what does the temptation con- sist ? In three successive attempts of the malignant a $t. Luke ii. 49. r St. Matthew ii. 17. 128 Our Lord’s demand [Lecr. spirit to induce Him to distrust His Father. He is invited to exert His own power, to claim a glory of His own, to display His special privileges, for objects which were not those of His Father’s will. He refuses; He submits himself absolutely to that will, and He comes forth from the trial to proclaim, not His own kingdom, but the kingdom of God. After this, we find Him, during a ministry of two or three years (to quote St. Matthew’s summary) ‘teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the Gospel of the kingdom, and healing all manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the peoples, He exhibited in that short time a character of mercy, love, truth, righteousness, which has rendered Him, not only among Christians, but even among those who reject His loftiest claims, the supreme ideal of all that the conscience and the heart of man demand. But in what capacity does He display these qualities and perform these acts? Is it in the capacity of a good man, acting on His convictions of what is right, and exercising His own powers 4 By no means. The essential character of our Saviour's life and ministry is the reverse of this. He insists continually on the fact that He is carrying out the will of another—of that Father of whom He spoke in His earliest recorded utterance; and His avowed object, on all occasions, is to reveal that will. Of this the text affords one of the most conspicuous examples. When John the Baptist sent to enquire, 8 St. Matthew iv. 23. V.] for Faath. . 129 ‘Art thou He that should come, or do we look for another?’ and when He had replied by recount- ing His mighty works, He answered and said, ‘I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father ; for so it seemed good in Thy sight. All things are delivered unto Me of My Father: and no man knoweth the Son, but the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him *. In other words, He was able to do these works, He could display this grace and glory, because all things had been delivered unto Him of the Father. At other times He disclaims still more explicitly any capacity to act independently. His highest claims to au- thority are dwelt on in the greatest detail in the Gospel of St. John; but they are never claims to independent power. On the contrary, He is reported in that Gospel as declaring, ‘ Verily, verily, I say unto you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He seeth the Father do: for what things soever He doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise; for the Father loveth the Son and showeth Him all things that Himself doeth ¥ The Gospel of St. John, indeed, is conclusive on the point now in question, but we need not depend on it to exhibit the paramount influence on our Saviour’s mind of His devotion to His Father. The t St. Matthew xi. 25-27. u St. John v. 19, 20. 130 Our Lord's demand [Lecr. most critical scene in His life, that in which His whole nature was stirred to its profoundest depths, and in which its essential principles were put to the most cruel test, was that of His passion. Of this we have accounts by all four Evangelists, and it is evident that the circumstances of this awful scene were regarded by the Apostles as of supreme import. What then is the chief characteristic of His mind at that time? His recorded sayings are few, but they are above all things impregnated with trust in His Father, and submission to His Father’s will. In His agony in the garden He prays three times, in terrible earnestness, ‘O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt. O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me except I drink it, Thy will be donev.’ At the commence- ment of His agony on the cross He prays, ‘ Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. At the crisis of that agony, His almost despairing ery is, ‘My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?’ And when the sacrifice is consummated, and He is able to say ‘It is finished,’ He utters that prayer of complete trust and submission, ‘ Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.’ If there is one thing certain respecting His crucifixion, it is that He submitted to it in obedience to the will of His Father in heaven, that the sense of His Father's presence was His one sustaining conviction, that His V St. Matthew xxvi. 39, 42. yO} Jor Faith. 131 deepest agony was one passing apprehension that His Father had forsaken Him, and that in His last breath He resigned His soul into His Father's hands. To that Father His first and His last witness was borne during the time that He was among us as a man like ourselves, sharing our weakness, and bearing our sins. But the same characteristic is preserved after His resurrection: ‘Go,’ He said to Mary Magdalene when He was risen, ‘Go to My brethren and say unto them, I ascend unto My Father and your Father, and to My God and your GodW;’ and He commanded His disciples ‘to teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. From His first words to His last He identifies His work abso- lutely with doing the will of His Father, and re- vealing the Father's will and character. That memorable prayer, in short, which is recorded for us by St. John, is undoubtedly an exact summary of the spirit of His life. Its burden is to declare that the object of His work has been to reveal the name, that is to say, the nature and the will of His Father. ‘Father, He says, ‘the hour is come ; glorify Thy Son, that Thy Son also may glorify Thee ; as Thou hast given Him power over all flesh, that He should give eternal life to as many as Thou hast given Him. And this is life eternal, that they might know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent. ‘I have manifested Thy Ww St. John xx. 17. x Tbid. xvii. 132 Our Lord’s demand [Lecr. name unto the men which Thou gavest Me out of the world, ... they have known that all things whatsoever Thou hast given Me are of Thee. For I have given unto them the words which Thou gavest Me; and they have received them, and have known surely that I came out from Thee, and they have believed that Thou didst send Me. ‘0 righteous Father; He concludes, as the sum and substance of His last desires, ‘the world hath not known Thee : but I have known Thee, and these have known that Thou hast sent Me. And I have declared unto them Thy name, and will declare it, that the love where- with Thou hast loved Me may be in them, and I in them.’ Now the consideration of the effect of this reve- lation of God in Christ must in part be reserved for the next Lecture, which will deal with the development of faith in the history of the Church, and its expression in the Creeds. We are now concerned with its bearing on our Lord’s claim to our ‘trust. But it may be worth while to observe, in passing, that we have here a conclusive answer to those difficulties which have been raised as_ to the possibility of regarding God as a person—a possibility essential to our exerting faith in Him, in any satisfactory sense. It is not necessary to define the meaning of the term ‘person,’ and, of course, as applied to God, it involves what is infinitely beyond our conceptions. But our Lord Jesus Christ was a person; and He was in a relation which was V.] for Faith. 133 evidently a personal relation with His Father in heaven. He could love Him as a Father, trust Him as a Father, pray to Him as a Father, commend His soul to Him as a Father. He could speak of His will, His love, His good pleasure. In a word, He attributed to Him acts and dispositions as personal as any we attribute to one another; He manifested Him as standing in a relation to Himself, and to us, similar to that which one person holds to another in this world. This is what we mean, and all we need insist upon, with respect to the personality of God. It is precisely as real, as vital, as the personality of Christ, and just in proportion as Christ’s personality is realised by us, shall we realise the personality of His Father. Philosophy has striven in vain to pierce the veil which shrouds the Great Creator, but the only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him. In Christ we have Him brought home to our hearts and souls in a living ‘form and a human relationship. It has been said that if God had given a revelation, it would have been written in letters of fire in the firmament. The principle assumed in the objection is true. If God has given a revelation it must be so written that, in respect to its substance, he that runs may read it, if he will. But how could a personal Being be revealed in the mere phenomena of inanimate nature? A person can only be revealed in and through other persons, and by means of his relation to them. The Divine Revelation, accordingly, was 134 Our Lord's demand [ Lect. from the first entrusted to human hearts, and it was finally enshrined in the heart of Christ. It has been written in letters of fire in the soul of the Son of Man ; it was described with tongues of fire by those who first read it there ; and the Spirit by whom that sacred fire was kindled is ever present to fulfil our Lord’s promise Y, ‘ye shall know that I am in the Father, and ye in Me, and I in you. Let us, however, observe that the immediate effect of this revelation of God in Christ, and of our relation to Him, is to give the utmost conceivable intensity to the consciousness of moral good and evil. We are all conscious of the powerful influence exerted by our personal relations to one another, and by the mutual judgments passed by man on man, in awakening and deepening the moral sensitiveness. There is a school which would seek in such social influences the ultimate source of morality, and would rely solely upon them for its development. But how vast a moral power does such a school of philosophy disregard when it puts out of sight this revelation of the Divine society into which our Lord introduces us! How infinitely is this social influence elevated and intensified when we are led, by this proclamation of the Divine name, to recognise that our inmost souls are in the constant presence of the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! §t. John has described the result with his characteristic simplicity and_ force. ‘That,’ he says, ‘which was from the beginning, y St. John xiv. 20. ba Jor Faith. 135 which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life, that which we have seen and heard, declare we unto you,.... this then is the message which we have heard of Him and declare unto you, that God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie and do not the truth ; but if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin%’ Under this blaze of moral light a profound consciousness of sin is aroused, and the soul is compelled to seek for cleansing in the atoning blood of the Saviour. But it will further be seen what momentous weight is thus added to the testimony of Christ, and to His claim upon our belief. We contemplate Him delivering His message, working His miracles, imparting His gracious promises, under what may perhaps be described as the most tremendous sense of responsibility ever realised. In a degree not approached by any prophet or apostle, He calls God to witness, at every moment, to His truth ; and He utters every word with the eye of His soul fixed upon His Father and our Father, the Father whom He reveals as all light, and in whom is no darkness at all. Just stress has been laid on the z 1 St. John i. 1-7. 136 Our Lord’s demand [Lect, immense import of our Lord’s self-assertion*; and the consideration appears to acquire great additional force in proportion as we realise the manner in which our Lord appeals to His Father in advancing such asser- tions, constantly declaring that they are made in absolute submission to Him. It is thus that our Saviour expressly supports the most conspicuous of those claims. ‘If I bear witness of myself, my witness is not true ; ... the works which the Father hath given Me to finish, the same works that I do, bear witness of Me that the Father hath sent Me; and the Father Himself which hath sent Me, hath borne witness of Me.’ ‘Iam one that bear witness of myself, and the Father that sent Me beareth witness of Me ©’ Such, then, are the foundations on which Christ’s appeal for faith was based. He begins by con- vincing men of their moral evil and weakness. He brings them into the presence of His Father, the God of all light and truth; and there, in the full glory of that awful presence, He declares Himself to them as their Lord and Saviour, and bids them trust themselves to Him for forgiveness, and for all spiritual life. It is a matter of trust, and not of proof. It is to His word and promise that the soul has to commit itself for time and for eternity. But when that word is heard in the very presence of God, and is felt to penetrate to the inmost depths of the @ See Canon Liddon’s Bampton Lectwres, Preface to Second Edition. b St. John v. 31-37. ¢ Ibid. viii. 18. ¥. for Faith. 137 conscience, it becomes impossible to refuse it credence®, Such, as was shewn in a previous Lecture, has been, in substance, the ground on which all testimony to Divine revelation has rested ; though in no other instance is the foundation of that testimony so deeply and firmly established as in the witness of our Lord. Such, accordingly, will always be the surest course of Christian evidence. It must start from profound convictions ‘ of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment.’ It must proceed by the apprehension of God as the Father of all light and truth, as revealed in Jesus Christ, and faith is then capable of appreciating the witness which the Son gives to the Father, and which the Father gives to the Son. d See Note ro. LECTURE VI. THE FAITH OF THE EARLY CHURCH. ACTS V. 29-32. Then Peter and the other apostles answered and said, We ought to obey God rather than men. The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree. Him hath God exalted with His right hand to be a Prince and a Saviour, for to give repentance to Israel, and forgiveness of sins. And we are His witnesses of these things; and so is also the Holy Ghost, whom God hath given to them that obey Him. Our Lord said to His disciples in His last dis- courses, ‘ Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that be- lieveth on me, the works that I do shall he do also ; and greater works than these shall he do, because I go unto My Father?’ It was a wonderful promise, but it was amply fulfilled in the history of the early Church. We considered in the last Lecture the character of the faith which our Lord claimed; and we observed the immense exercise of trust which it involved. But we saw, at the same time, the over- whelming authority which was exerted by His deeds, His words, and His solemn appeal to the Father ® St. John xiv. r2. The Faith of the Early Church. 139 whom He revealed. Vast as was the demand He made, a feeling like that of St. Thomas may some- times arise in our minds, and we may think that if we could but have seen Him, heard Him and touched Him, faith would have been more easily maintained. But in point of fact it has been otherwise. Faith in Him took root more generally, and grew more rapidly, under the preaching of the Apostles than under His own ; and in extent, at all events, they did greater works than He in turning men from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God. This contrast must appear the more remarkable if we consider the different circumstances under which the appeal of our Lord and that of His Apostles were made; for, to our natural judgment, it would seem as if the Apostles and the first preachers of the Gospel made a heavier claim on the faith of those whom they addressed than our Lord had made on the faith of the Jews. Full of grace and truth, He appeared among His own people, who had been prepared for His coming by a long education ; and that they received Him not, condemns them of blindness and hardness of heart. His appeal was in harmony with the whole past history and the existing circumstances of the nation, and had thus an immense presumption in its favour. But his witnesses, in proclaiming his message to the Gentiles, had no similar advantages. Conceive St. Paul, on one of his missionary journeys, addressing himself 140 The Faith of [Lecr. to the inhabitants of a Greek city. His bodily presence is weak, and he does not attempt to over- awe them by a display of miraculous power. He appeals to their hearts and their reason, and he delivers them a message with which he is com- missioned. That message was delivered to him by a Person who had died a malefactor’s death, but who, as the Apostle alleged, had risen again, and who had declared Himself to be the Son of God—of that God who was the Creator of the heavens and the earth. On the faith of this assurance, to which the Apostle himself and two or three companions were the only witnesses, he claimed for the living and true God, and for Jesus Christ His Son, the sole allegiance of those whom he addressed. He called upon them to break away from the traditions, the associations, the habits of their life, to abandon both the religious observances and the social customs of their fathers, and to incur obloquy, persecution, and death. It was an immense demand, even when urged with all the moral and spiritual force of an Apostle ; and that it was obeyed so widely can only be ascribed to the co-operation of that Divine Spirit whom our Lord promised to send, that He might convince the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment. But the case will appear still stronger, if we imagine a Christian preacher making the same appeal at the beginning of the second century. Such a preacher would invite belief in certain facts which VI] the Karly Church. 141 he did not himself claim to have seen; and such written evidence as he could produce was at least no better than that which we now possess. On the face of it, a man must have seemed to others to have been incurring an enormous risk in hazarding his whole life, present and future, on th® assurance of such a preacher, and becoming a member of a society which was despised and. persecuted by the vast majority of the world. It is sometimes said that the difficulties of belief are greater in the present day — than in the early days of Christianity, by virtue of the immense distance in time, and as it were in historic space, which separates us from them. But that course of time, and that historic space, have been continuously furnishing a mass of testimony to the power of the Gospel which more than counteracts any such disadvantage. It might even be maintained that, with the aid of the historical knowledge of the present day, we enjoy facilities for realising the posi- tion and the teaching of our Lord and of His apostles which are greater than those possessed by many of the early Christians. We possess written documents which, to say the very least, have in substance stood the severest tests of criticism, and the truth of the assurances and the predictions they record is attested by the accumulating witness of the Church. Above all, to be a Christian is with us not, as with a pagan of those days, to place ourselves in antagonism to the institutions around us but, on the contrary, to bring ourselves into harmony with the spirit in which they 142 The Faith of [Lecr. were constructed, and from which they derived their main strength. We have an illustration, perhaps, though only an approximate one, of the difficulties with which the early preachers of Christianity must have had to contend, in the work of missionaries among the Hindoos; and we know how arduous are the obstacles which the Gospel there encounters. When, in short, all allowance has been made for the long preparation which had resulted in the fulness of time, the faith of the early Church and its victory over the world remain, perhaps, the most conspicuous miracles of Christianity, and the most vivid evidence of the operation of the Holy Spirit. In considering the nature and the foundation of this faith, we have to encounter in the present day misapprehensions, and, we must needs say, misrepre- sentations, for which it is difficult to account. The idea has been industriously spread that there is some inconsistency between the teaching of our Lord and that of His Apostles, and still more between the teaching of the Apostles and the ultimate result of the teaching of the Church, as represented in the Creeds. To take one of the last instances of this mis- representation, we are told by the author of Super- natural Religion» that ‘we may look in vain in the Synoptic Gospels for the doctrines elaborated in the Pauline Epistles and the Gospel of Ephesus.’ ‘It is not difficult,’ says this writer, ‘to follow the gradual -development of the Creeds of the Church, and it is b Vol. ii. pp. 486, 487, 4th edition. VI.] the Early Church. 143 certainly most instructive to observe the progressive boldness with which its dogmas were expanded by pious enthusiasm.’. . . ‘ The disciples,’ he continues, ‘who had so often misunderstood the teaching of Jesus during His life, piously distorted it after His death. His simple lessons of meekness and humi- lity were soon forgotten. With lamentable rapidity the elaborate structure of ecclesiastical Christianity, following stereotyped lines of human superstition, and deeply coloured by Alexandrian philosophy, dis- placed the simple morality of Jesus” Now it is not easy, and perhaps it is hardly fitting, to treat without indignation such a distortion of the history and character of the early Church. If the charge were not echoed, in various forms, in modern scep- tical literature, it would be unworthy of notice ; but it would seem as if no task were more necessary in the present day than that of reviving and _pre- senting to the world the picture of the early Church, as it appeared in the freshness and fulness of its life, ‘ Fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners. Enough, however, is readily accessible, especially to a writer who pre- tends to so much learning as this author, to justify us in denouncing such statements as an inexcusable calumny. ‘They are contrary to facts established by the most impartial evidence, and they belie the most conspicuous features of early Christian life. The history of the early Church, in fact, might almost be summed up in words like those of the 144 The Faith of [ Lect. inspired writer, used with a reference to our Lord, They ‘resisted unto blood, striving against sin®’ His life, it 1s acknowledged, was one persistent warfare against sin in all forms, and it was pursued at the cost of all warfare, that of blood. Manifold as are the spiritual aspects of our Lord’s sacrifice, this is the description of its actual history ; and His early followers, at all events, trod faithfully in His foot- steps. From the moment He rose from the dead, and assured His Apostles of His triumph, the Chris- tian Church organised a similar warfare against sin. Its members were formed into a perpetual society, ‘having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are His, and Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity.’ St. Peter opened that long war on the day of Pentecost, in words which, like those of his Lord, pricked his hearers to the heart, exhorting them to ‘repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins®. Some seventy years afterwards the veil is lifted, by the hand of a Roman statesman, from the comparative obscurity of the Christian Church, and discloses an army of soldiers of the cross, whose bond of union is still stamped conspicuously with the Apostolic seal. At the commencement of the second century, Pliny reports to Trajan, as the result of what he could extort from the Christians in his province, ‘ that this was the sum of their fault or error, that they were wont to meet together on a ¢ Heb. xii. 4. da Tim. i. 19: e Acts 11. 38. VI.] the Karly Church. 145 stated day before sunrise, and sing a hymn to Christ as God, and bind themselves by a Saecra- mentum that they would not commit theft or robbery or adultery, that they would not break faith, nor repudiate a trustf’” A memorable record! honour- able to the Roman to whose impartial accuracy it is due, as well as to the Church whose clear and simple character it reflects, and more precious, alike in its historical and in its practical instruction, than many a famous volume. Under this standard, and bound by this oath, the army of the Saints maintained a stern, though patient, war against the sin which was embodied in the life, and in the very institutions, of the society of their day. They won at length a great victory, and it was achieved, like that of their Lord, by resistance unto blood. That which has been described as ‘the strong antipathy of good to bad’ aroused the equally strong antipathy of bad to good. A corrupt society felt instinctively that a Church which was at war with iniquity was ‘at war with itself, and it appealed to the final arbitrament of bloodshed. When we realise the deadly nature of this struggle, when we think of the blood that has been shed in it, from that Precious Blood to which in the recent season we have done special homage, to the outpouring of the life of innumerable humbler souls, the deepest emo- tions of our souls are stirred; and it is not easy f See Note 11. L 146 The Faith of [Lxcr. to be as patient as we should otherwise wish to be with such misrepresentations of the Church’s early history as have just been quoted. But it may be that the controversies which have, of late years, raged around certain points of Church history have obscured its main course and character. While men are disputing about the alleged incon- sistency between Petrine and Pauline Christianity, or enquiring into the development of the Roman claims to supremacy, they are in danger of forget- ting the main course and current of Christian life, and of subordinating its essential to its accidental features. The extent to which such a distortion of vision can go is forcibly illustrated by another state- ment made by the writer already quoted, with a recklessness characteristic of his school. ‘Had we been dependent,’ he says, ‘on St. Paul, Christ’s noble morality would have remained unknown, and His lessons of rare spiritual excellence would have been lost to the worlds.’ It is to be presumed that such a writer is aware of St. Paul’s description of charity, of his constant exhortations to ‘love, joy, peace, long- suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, tem- perance,’ of his description of ‘the mind that was in Christ Jesus. But if so, that he can have made such an assertion affords a measure by which we may reasonably judge of his capacity, and of the capacity of the class of critics whom he represents, for appre- hending the real facts of Christian life and thought. & Supernatural Religion, vol. iii. p. 567. Ed. 1879. VI.] the Early Church. 147 There is, however, 2 momentous truth, of which such objections may possibly be a travesty, however strange. Even thoughtful believers seem sometimes perplexed by certain differences which undoubtedly exist between the teaching of our Lord, as recorded in the Gospels, and that of the Apostles, as recorded in the book of the Acts and in the Epistles. But on the very suppositions of our faith, such a difference is inevitable. Between the ministry of our Lord and the teaching of the Apostles the most momentous of all events in the spiritual history of mankind had occurred. Our Lord had died on the Cross, had risen from the dead, had ascended into heaven, and had bestowed upon His Church the gift of the Holy Spirit. On the supposition that those events are of the character which the faith of the Church assigns to them, it is inevitable that there should be a difference, and even a vast difference, between the point of view of those who lived before them and that of those who lived after them ; and the distinctive character of the Epistles is thus so far from being a ground of objec- tion, that it is a most conspicuous instance of the harmony of Christian truth. Of course, if a man ignores the belief of the Apostles that our Lord made an atonement for the sins of the world on the Cross, if he denies His Resurrection, and deems His Ascension to sit on the right hand of God a myth, he cannot understand why there should be any distinction be- tween His teaching and that of those who preached in His name. But if the relation of God to man and of L 2 148 The Faith of [Lecr. man to God was vitally affected by the sacrifice on the Cross, if, by virtue of His resurrection and ascension our Lord assumed a new authority, and established among men a new influence, His Apostles cannot speak simply as He spoke. They have new truths to communicate, new facts to assert, new realities in the spiritual and moral world to enforce. When our Lord spoke, as is said in the Gospel of St. John, ‘The Holy Ghost was not yet given, because that Jesus was not yet glorified!’ When the Apostles wrote, the most prominent and visible characteristic of Christians was to have received the Holy Spirit, and to exhibit His influence in their lives. Our Lord announced that the kingdom of God was at hand, When the Epistles were written, the king- dom of God had come, and a new world had been created. ‘If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature, old things are passed away; behold all things are become newi.’ The whole teaching of the Christian Church is founded on the supposition that a special revelation was entrusted to the Apostles respecting our Lord’s mediatorial work, and that new spiritual powers were bestowed on those who be- lieved on Him. There is nothing essentially incon- sistent in an argument which disputes the facts thus alleged, and the validity of the testimony thus offered; but there is something strangely unreason- able in a criticism which make it a complaint against such testimony that it is consistent with h St. John vii. 39. i 2 Cor: v. 17s vt] the Early Church. 149 itself, and that it is the natural and necessary con- sequence of the facts to which it bears witness. The evidence that this new spiritual power had been introduced into the world is conspicuous in the records of the early Church, and is especially to be discerned in one marked characteristic of Christian life. That characteristic is the intense joy, hope, and enthusiasm by which it is animated. In the aspirations of men after righteousness at other times, there is present a certain feeling of desperation, an oppressive sense of guilt and weakness, a conscious- ness of straining after an unattainable ideal. But in the lives of the Fathers and of the early Christians, instead of this painful sense of failure and guilt we find an unfailing apprehension of peace and victory. Our Saviour’s pledge, ‘your heart shall rejoice and your joy no man taketh from yous,’ has its fulfilment recorded in every page of early Church history. It was a pledge, indeed, which, as our Lord warned His disciples, was strangely contrasted with the visible circumstances of their lives. Never, surely, was any body of men exposed to greater adversities, sufferings, and distresses, and even apparent failures. But the Epistles alone would be a sufficient witness that the pledge was fulfilled. Certainly there is a grave and saddened tone about them, a tone as that of men who appreciate the evil and misery of life, and know how hard a thing it is to remedy it; but there is not less certainly a deeper joy in k St. John xvi. 22. 150 The Faith of [Lecr. them than in any other human writings. The grace and peace with which the Apostle Paul begins and ends his Epistles are no mere familiar salutations, but express the spirit which breathes throughout them; and St. John similarly declares that his object is to bring his readers into fellowship with himself, a fellowship in which their joy may be full!) The beloved disciple who, at the Saviour’s side, had heard this promise, ‘your heart shall re- joice and your joy no man taketh from you,’ thus testifies, at the close of his long and troubled Apostle- ship, that his joy had been full. Similarly, as one peruses the accounts of the martyrs, or the writings of the early Christian Fathers, this is perhaps the feature which stands out most vividly. All around us is a disappointed world—a world of disappointed valour, disappointed justice, disappointed virtue, a world in which suicide had come to be looked upon as a natural and reason- able resource. But in the midst of it the martyrs and confessors, the humblest Christians and the most dis- tinguished alike, display all the energy of hope, of love, and of the complete satisfaction of their hearts. It is not ecstasy, it is the calmest and most peaceful assurance. ‘They have found true joys, their hearts are fixed on them ; and amidst the sundry and mani- - fold changes of that stormy time, they bear witness to the truth of the Apostolic promise that their joy should be full. This, undoubtedly, was one of the 1 y St. John i. 4. 7 VI.) the Early Church. 151 chief causes which gave such an intense energy and movement to the history of the early Christian Church. There, and there alone, was it felt that joy could be found, and energy exercised without re- straint ; and as the old world more and more proved its uncertainty and fallaciousness, men and women took refuge in this blessed fellowship. It has been a commonplace of worldly writers to compare—as one of their modern representatives has expressed it—‘ the Janguors of virtue’ with ‘the raptures of vice,’ and it is possible that moralists have sometimes given oc- casion for the comparison. But the great truth of Christian morals is that the contrast must be exactly reversed ; and as a matter of history, especially in the first three centuries, it was so reversed. In that period, the languors are all on the side of vice, and the raptures all on the side of virtue. They are so still, in the experience of every one who surrenders himself to the full influence of the Gospel; but the sudden and overwhelming force with which this experience is displayed in Christian life, after our Lord’s ascension, is one of the keys to Church history. Perfect love has cast out fear. The Christian soul breathes in an atmosphere of light, and grace, and peace, and truth. It is not merely hoping for ultimate salvation. It is living in the light ; all things have become new to it in the spirit, and it is assured that they will hereafter become new to it in the body. Read the records of the Church without an eye to controversy, and 152 The Faith of [Lecr. with a simple desire to apprehend their main charac- teristics, and you will find them summed up in this description of Christian life by St. Paul :— ‘Therefore being justified by faith we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, .... and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also, knowing that tribulation worketh patience, and patience ex- perience, and experience hope ; and hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us ™ Now to what is all this marvellous display of moral energy, hope, and endurance ascribed by those who exhibited it? Their witness is the best evidence of their motives, and of the power on which they relied, and it is perfectly uniform. As with the Jews, and as in the Sermon on the Mount, the life of the Saints starts from the vision of our Father in Heaven, the Creator of heaven and earth, the Lord of the spirits of all flesh, the God of all righteousness, power, and love. It starts from this vision; but it proceeds to the conviction that the perfect image of God is revealed in Jesus Christ, and that union with Him, through faith, is union with God, and conveys to us all the blessings of perfect fellowship with the Father. ‘This is the record, that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the m Rom. vy. I-5. VI.) the Early Church. 153 Son of God hath not life™.’ ‘We have seen, and do testify, that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world. Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him and he in God°.’ The two ideas are never separated ; and the theological conception is always the strength and life of the moral. As St. Paul at Athens begins by declaring ‘the unknown God,’ so the life of Christians and the confessions of the martyrs start from the belief that their fellowship is with the Father. The confession of St. Polycarp at the stake is the earliest of these solemn testimonies ; and it is at once the loftiest and the most characteristic of all: —‘He looked up to heaven and said, “O Lord God Almighty, the Father of Thy beloved and blessed Son Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the know- ledge of Thee, the God of angels and powers, and of every creature, and of the whole race of the righteous who live before Thee, I give Thee thanks that Thou hast counted me worthy of this day and this hour, that I should have a part in the number of Thy martyrs, in the cup of Thy Christ, to the resurrection of eternal life, both of soul and body, through the incorruption imparted by the Holy Ghost. Among whom may I be accepted before Thee this day as a rich and acceptable sacrifice, according as Thou, the faithful and true God, hast fore-ordained, hast revealed beforehand, and hast now fulfilled. Wherefore also I praise Thee for all n 1 St. John v. 11, 12. ° St. John iv. 14, 15 154 The Faith of [ Lect. things, I bless Thee, I glorify Thee, along with the everlasting and heavenly Jesus Christ, Thy beloved Son, through Whom to Thee, with Him and the Holy Ghost, be glory both now and to all ages. Amen P.”’ It would be difficult to quote from any post-apostolic source a more complete summary of the Christian faith, alike in its dogmatic contents and in its moral inspiration. But a peculiarly striking illustration of this spirit of Christian thought has been afforded by the recent discovery of the portion which had been previously missing of the first Epistle of St. Clement of Rome. It contains a prayer, which may be regarded as the first known germ of a Christian liturgy, and which exhibits to us the spirit of the early Roman Church expressed in its most intense and deliberate form. The whole Epistle, says the present Bishop of Durham 4, may be said to lead up to a ‘long prayer or litany, if we may so call it, which forms a fit close to its lessons of forbearance and love. ‘We will ask,’ says St. Clement", ‘ with instancy of prayer and supplication, that the Creator of the universe may guard intact unto the end His elect throughout the whole world, through His beloved Son Jesus Christ, through whom He called us from darkness to light, from ignorance to the full knowledge of the glory of p The Martyrdom of St. Polycarp, ch. xiv. See Note 12. a Dr. Lightfoot’s St. Clement of Rome; An Appendiz, p. 269. r §t. Clement of Rome; An Appendix, pp. 376-378. See Note 13. 5 the Early Church. 155 His name. Grant unto us, Lord, that we may set our hope on Thy Name which is the primal source of all creation ; and open the eyes of our hearts, that we may know Thee, who alone abidest Highest in the highest, Holy in the holy, who layest low the in- solence of the proud, who scatterest the imaginings of nations ; who settest the lowly on high, and bringest the lofty low, who makest rich and makest poor ; who killest and makest alive ; who alone art the Benefactor of spirits and the God of all flesh, who lookest into the abysses, who scannest the works of man; the Succour of them that are in peril; the Saviour of them that are in despair ; the Creator and overseer of every spirit; who multiplest the nations upon earth, and hast chosen out from all men those that love Thee through Jesus Christ, Thy beloved Son, through whom Thou didst instruct us, didst sanctify us, didst honour us. We beseech Thee, Lord and Master, to be our help and succour. Save those among us who are in tribulation ; have mercy on the lowly; lift up the fallen; show Thyself unto the needy ; heal the ungodly ; convert the wanderers of Thy people ; feed the hungry ; release our prisoners ; raise up the weak; comfort the fainthearted. Let all the Gentiles know that Thou art God alone, and Jesus Christ is Thy Son, and we are Thy people and the sheep of Thy pasture. Thou through Thine operations didst make manifest the everlasting fabric of the world. Thou, Lord, didst create the earth. Thou that are faithful throughout all generations, 156 The Faith of [Lecr. righteous in Thy judgments, marvellous in strength and excellence, Thou that art wise in creating and prudent in establishing that which Thou hast made, that art good in the things which are seen and faithful with them that trust on Thee, pitiful and compassionate, forgive us our iniquities, and our unrighteousnesses, and our transgressions, and short- comings. Lay not to our account every sin of Thy servants and thine handmaids, but cleanse us with the cleansing of Thy truth, and guide our steps to walk in holiness, and righteousness, and single- ness of heart, and to do such things as are good and well-pleasing in Thy sight and in the sight of our rulers. Yea, Lord, make Thy face to shine upon us in peace for our good, that we may be sheltered by Thy mighty hand and delivered from every sin by Thine uplifted arm. And deliver us from them that hate us wrongfully. Give concord and peace to us and to all that dwell on the earth, as Thou gavest to our fathers, when they called on Thee in faith and truth with holiness, that we may be saved, while we render obedience to Thine Almighty and most excellent Name, and to our rulers and governors upon the earth.’ This mention of the rulers of the State is a peculiarly touching and sublime example of the Christian spirit when we remember that it proceeds from the midst of the furnace of persecution ; and before the Prayer concludes, a special supplication for them is added: ‘Thou, Lord and Master, hast given VI] the Early Church. 157 them the power of sovereignty through Thine ex- cellent and unspeakable might, that we knowing the glory and honour which Thou hast given them, may submit ourselves unto them, in nothing resisting Thy will. Grant unto them, therefore, O Lord, health, peace, concord, stability, that they may administer the government which Thou hast given them without failure. For Thou, O heavenly Master, King of the ages, givest to the sons of men glory and honour and power over all things that are upon the earth. Do Thou, Lord, direct their counsel according to that which is good and well pleasing in Thy sight, that administering in peace and gentleness with godliness the power which Thou hast given them, they may obtain Thy favour. O Thou, who alone art able to do these things and things far more exceeding good than these for us, we praise Thee through the High- priest and guardian of our souls, Jesus Christ, through whom be the glory and the majesty unto Thee both now and for all generations and for ever and ever. Amen.’ Such was the prayer of the Christians of Rome in the age of Domitian; and it deserves to be quoted in its entirety as a singularly comprehensive and authoritative exposition of the spirit by which they were animated. We may observe, in passing, the commentary which it affords on the allegation that the dogmas of the Church have been expanded by the ‘ progressive boldness of pious enthusiasm. The bidding prayer read at the commencement of these Lectures is but an echo of this ancient supplication ; 158 The Faith of [Lxcr. and in the prayer for the Church Militant which pre- cedes our most sacred act of worship we do not rise to a greater height, or assume any other essential theological truth. But the point with which we are concerned, for the immediate purpose of this argument, is that the intense elevation and hope of early Christian morality is here seen to be wholly inspired and sustained by the vision of God in Jesus Christ, and by the faith, assured through His death and resurrection, of the possibility of fellowship with the Divine nature. God is loved in Him, and He is loved in God ; and communion with perfect glory, light and truth is thus opened to the soul by means of the most simple, most human, most natural re- lationship. Now it is from this point of view that the Creeds of the Church are to be approached ; and when they are placed in this light, all the appearance of mere speculative dogmatism, which is attributed to them by scepticism, at once melts away, and seems scarcely to need refutation. They are not mere abstract state- ments respecting the nature of God. They embody the most moral, the most human, the most touching and affecting conceptions which can stir the depths of the heart. If the Creeds are the distinctive characteristic of the Christian Church, it is not because Alexandrian metaphysics, or any mere theological speculations, had elaborated theories about the Divine nature. That was the work of the Gnostics, of the Arians, and of similar heretics. It was because, as a matter VI.) the Early Church. 159 of certain apprehension and most blessed fact, our Lord Jesus Christ, fulfillimg in His life and death and resurrection the promises of the Old Testament, had revealed to men the image of a God of infinite love and light, had brought that God home to them in their very flesh and blood, had assured them of reconciliation and union with Him, had offered Him- self as a propitiation for their sins, and in answer to their prayers had bestowed on them a grace and power, which they felt in daily experience to be the first-fruits of redemption. It is the whole of Christian life, the whole of that intense moral and spiritual illumination we have been contemplating, which con- stitutes the background of the creeds, and bestows on them their vital force and reality. The revelation of God, as we have seen in previous Lectures, was the life of faith from its earliest dawn—the strength of Abraham, the hope of the Prophets, the sum and substance of the life of our Lord. In Him, His life, His death, His resurrection, His ascension, it had become the daily food of Christian souls ; and when, in Arianism, the last and most subtle attempt was made to divide Him from God, and thus to prevent us from feeling that, in union with Him, we were in union with God, it was not the Christian intellect, so much as the Christian heart, that revolted. It was this impulse which animated St. Athanasius. The spirit which really moved him may be perceived in his treatise De Incarnatione Verbi, written before the controversial period of his life, and of which the 160 The Faith of [Lecr. central idea is the recovery, through Jesus Christ, of the glorious image of God which the human soul had lost. It was probably to the intense de- votion of St. Antony to God and Christ, as much as to the schools of Alexandria, that he owed his inspiration §, But an equally striking testimony to this character of the Christian creeds may be quoted from a great Western Father of the same age—St. Hilary of Poitiers. He has been called the Athanasius of the West, but his witness cannot be supposed to be sophisticated by Alexandrian speculation. He has himself described most vividly the process of his conversion and of his acceptance of the Christian faith, and his testimony is the more remarkable, as it describes an experience which passes through all the stages of faith we have contemplated in the course of these Lecturest. He commenced by dissatisfaction with the pleasures of mere worldly life, and by a repulsion from the absurdities of Paganism. He aspired to know that God from whom he received all the benefits of existence—a God to whom he could entirely devote himself, in whom he could place all his hopes, and in whom he could rest, as in a sure harbour, against all the storms of the present life. To understand or to recognise this God, his soul was inflamed with an ardent intensity. While thus medi- tating, he came upon the books of Moses, where he read, ‘Iam that I am, ego swm qui sum; and he was 8 See Note 14. t See Note 15. Vil the Early Church. 161 at once carried away by the grandeur and simplicity of this description of God. He became absorbed in the delight of contemplating the eternity, the infinity, and the perfect beauty of the Divine Nature. But how were these contemplations to be reconciled with the infirmity and shortness of human life? ‘It would be of little avail to have a right belief about God, if death would destroy all apprehension of Him, or some failure of nature would abolish it,’ Hilary’s soul was harassed by anxiety, partly for itself, partly for the body. It was in this state of mind that he came upon the statement of St. John, ‘The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. ‘Here, he exclaims, ‘my trembling and anxious soul found more hope than it was looking for... I learned that God was made flesh, that by means of the Word, thus made flesh, the flesh might grow up to God the Word. ‘This assurance of union with God in Christ at once removed from him the fear of death and all weariness of exist- ence. The present life became to him like learning to a child, or medicine to the sick, or training to the youth. All present things were endurable to one who was advancing through them to the reward of a blessed immortality. Such were the simple, but intense, moral convictions which inspired the profound devotion of the early Church to Christ and to the truth of His Divinity. When that truth was once established as the greatest and most powerful of practical beliefs, it was inevitable M 162 The Faith of [ Lect. that it should be discussed by philosophy, and that, for certain purposes, it should be cast into a scientific form. It is a characteristic of all sciences, that the practical principles from which they start are as simple as the development and the intellectual justification of those principles are complex. The primary truths, for instance, on which mathematical or mechanical science is based are few, and when stated obvious; but there is no limit to the com- plexity which their scientific expression involves, The practical maxims, both of law and of morality, are very simple ; and the Ten Commandments are for ordinary men a sufficient working rule. But what immense mental labour, and what subtle intelligence have been expended, and doubtless necessarily ex- pended, in presenting them in a scientific form, and harmonising them intellectually with other truths and facts! What elaborate systems of ethics and codes of law has not the world seen, and what continued elaboration is even now expended upon the same practical subjects! Why should that be a reproach to theology which is none to law or to morality 4 The more momentous, in fact, the truth, and the greater its practical import, the less can we be satished till we have examined it by the tests of our various faculties, and reconciled it with our in- tellect as well as with our conscience. This is simply what was done in the theological controversies which raged around the Creeds. But, on the whole, that which is most remarkable about the Creed which aC] the Karly Church. 163 is really ‘The Creed of St. Athanasius ’—namely, the Creed of Niczea—is the simplicity and reserve of its statements, and what might be called its intense realism. There are one or two philosophical phrases introduced for the purpose of combating a_ false philosophy. But, for the most part, it speaks in the language of ordinary life, and brings us into contact with God, as St. Hilary says, through flesh and blood. It is not, indeed, Christians who are the most open to the charge of introducing metaphysics into religion and moral philosophy. Such a charge might more fitly be brought against those who would substitute for the eternal realities which in Christ we see, and hear, and handle, abstractions like Humanity or the Unknowable. The Apostles spoke of that which they had seen and heard, and the Church from age to age repeats their witness, as verified by her own experience. Such is the origin and such the character of the Faith of the Christian Church; and, when thus. apprehended, it must surely, at the least, appear the noblest and most beautiful vision of moral and spiritual truth that ever dawned on the heart of man. One of the reproaches most frequently ad- dressed to ourselves in these days was also cast upon the early Christians. They were charged with bemg too eager to accept the revelation offered to them. They were taunted with exhorting men to believe without waiting to investigate too curiously". " See Note 16. M 2 164 The Faith of the Early Church. Even if they had been unable to justify this ex- . hortation on other grounds, would it not, at least, have been a generous error? Such a revelation, and such a vision as we have been contemplating, may well seem to carry their own evidence with them, and at the very least to be worth an earnest and sincere trial. It is, however, a sufficient answer to all such reproaches, and especially to those which in the present day are advanced in the name of experimental science, that the appeal of the Christian teacher has always been made to a living experience. It should constantly be borne in mind, and will be our best application of these considerations to our- selves, that the Church has always been able to offer the most conclusive justification of her appeal to any who are led to follow it. She has ever been able to address men in the language of St. Paul, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved Vv’ —saved not only hereafter, but in this present life, saved from the tyranny of sin, endued with the grace of God’s Holy Spirit, given an actual and present participation in that life of moral and spiritual perfection which the New Testament re- veals. She has ever been ready to stake the truth of her message on its verification in each believer's own experience ; and in all the long generations of Christianity it is not recorded that any one trusted to her witness, and was disappointed. V PACS SVL naN. LECTURE VII. THE FAITH OF THE REFORMATION. Rom. VIII. 15. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear ; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. In the course of these Lectures we have now con- sidered the general nature of Faith, and its specific development and character under the Jewish dis- pensation, under the teaching of our Lord, and in the early Church. Under the impulse finally communi- cated by the gift of the Holy Spirit, Faith entered on a long period of victory and supremacy. In a tem- poral as well as in a spiritual sense it overcame the world. It conquered, first in the spiritual sphere, and then in the temporal, an imperial civilization ; it then brought under its sway, one by one, a mass of wild barbarian tribes; and at length it accomplished the erand achievement of completely organizing a new civilization, of welding together in one harmonious form the old world and the new, and of uniting a swarm of struggling races and nationalities, under the dominion of the Church, as parts of the one 166 The Faith of [Lucr. monarchy of the Pope. The centuries in which this great work was achieved have been called, not un- justly, ‘the ages of faith’ Though gross abuses and fatal perversions of the truth were admitted in the course of them, they nevertheless present, in the main, a noble exhibition of the power of Faith. The whole of life was built up im accordance with one grand conception; and the elements of that con- ception were furnished by the Christian creed. The men of the middle ages were great archi- tects—architects in thought, in society, in poli- tics, in ecclesiastical organization, no less than in stone and marble. In every department of human life they laid deep foundations ; and they reared mighty structures, under which, to this hour, our religion is sheltered, our learning fostered, our social life con- trolled, and to which even the framework of our political institutions is in great measure due. The Fathers and Doctors of the Church, the Bishops, the Popes, the Monks, built for all time; and having planned their great edifices, in the main, on the enduring laws of revealed truth, and based them on the divinely organized constitution of the Church, they could trust the generations which followed them to carry forward their work. A great institution such as this University grew, like a mighty tree, from age to age, under the impulse of one enduring principle of life; and in age after age, with har- monious instinct, men endowed Colleges, as they built Churches, in the confidence—a confidence, surely, VIT.] the Reformation. 167 which cannot be in substance disappointed—that they would ever remain under the guiding influence of Christ’s Church, and that in them ‘ whatever might conduce to true religion and useful learning would for ever flourish and abound, The noble structures which adorn this city, and the grand foundations which constitute this University, are the products, not merely of genius, but of faith, and of that large and prophetic vision which communion with the central source of truth alone supplies. But the principle that the best things, when cor- rupted, become the worst has, as might have been expected, received its most conspicuous illustration in the history of religion, and above all of true religion. All great gifts and privileges bring pro- portionate temptations, and if these be yielded to, blessings may become almost transformed into curses. To none is this risk so terrible as to men who are entrusted with great spiritual powers; and the danger to which such men are exposed may perhaps be in some measure discerned in the temptation to which our Lord was subjected. There comes an hour when the evil spirit takes them up into a high mountain, and shows them the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, and says unto them, ‘all these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me®.’ The vision of universal influence, and perhaps dominion, dawns upon the mind. It may be a legitimate vision, destined in ® St. Matthew iv. 9. 168 The Faith of [Lecr. some way to be realised; but the Devil suggests that it may be realised at once, and that it may be grasped with certainty, by some service to him— by some untruthfulness, some convenient falsehood, some unscrupulous act of violence or craft. To such a temptation it may well be that Mahomet suc- cumbed. Entrusted with a great truth, and dis- cerning its power over men’s spirits, he saw the opportunity of turning it to account more profitably by some measure of falsehood, craft, or violence ; and he became a false prophet, instead of remaining, as he might have remained, a true one. A similar temptation assailed the hierarchy of the Christian Church, when faith had won its first great triumph, and when the dominion of the Church over human life had begun to be consolidated. By exaggerating legitimate powers, by accepting con- venient forgeries, by admitting the aid of opportune violence, by using the weapons and the agents of worldly craft and cunning, the way seemed open and plain to the possession of all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them. To be just to the Popes and to their servants, it must be admitted all the more so because it was gradual and subtle, and could appeal in its support to some great facts and verities. To be conscious of having just claims to a certain that the temptation was tremendous royalty over the souls of men, and vet solely and simply to bear witness unto the truth—this is the severest trial of human nature. But, for that very VII.] the Reformation. 169 reason, to fail in it involves a terrible fall, and may entail spiritual ruin. When bishops, priests, and monks were unable to say to the tempter, ‘Get thee hence, Satan, for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou serve, they entered into possession of the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, but they lost the kingdom of God. When. power instead of truth became the object of the dominant hierarchy, faith had been falsified at its source. The vision of the God to whom they had thus been faithless became eclipsed, and a huge and portentous system of error and superstition developed, as by a natural law, from the first original untruth. The ‘ages of faith’ became transformed into the ages of superstition ; and when the revival of learning brought men into communion with the wisdom and the beauty of the ancient world, it was no wonder if more attractions were often found in a refined Paganism than in a cor- rupted Christianity. But at this critical moment, the most critical, perhaps, through which the Church ever passed, a potent voice was heard which recalled the elementary principles of the Gospel. The des- cription of that Gospel, given by St. Paul, that ‘therein is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith,’ was suddenly revived, and all Chris- tendom was stirred to its depths by the intensity with which the truth was re-asserted that ‘ The just shall live by faith.’ The experience and the teaching of the Reforma- 170 The Faith of [Lucr. tion furnish, in fact, crucial tests of the nature and the function of Faith. In interpreting great historical crises, it is always safe to take, as a guide, the general impression which has been established respecting their main character, and the principles which were at stake in them; and in the case of the Reformation no doubt can exist on these points. Faith is the cardinal word of the Reforma- tion. It then re-assumes an importance it had long ceased to possess. The doctrine of Justification by Faith is the truth around which the struggle of that period turns, and on which the energies of the Re- formers were concentrated. The history of the Church is, in great part, the history of the manner in which truths which had been tacitly assumed, and_prin- ciples which had been silently at work, start into new vitality, are recognized as among the central elements of Christian life, and receive their final and permanent vindication. It is thus that the doctrine of our Lord’s perfect Divinity, always the faith of the Church, was reasserted, and brought into full light, in the course of the Arian controversy ; and that the doctrine of Grace was explained and justified in opposition to the Pelagian heresy. In a similar manner, the principle of Faith was brought out into fuller consciousness and distinctness during the struggles of the Reformation than at any previous period. The fact that those struggles have deter- mined the present condition of Western Christendom invests them with a supreme interest and instruction VII.] the Reformation. 17a for us. The Reformation, and the principles it vin- dicated, lie at the foundation of modern religious life, and in proportion as we grasp those principles shall we be able to meet the difficulties which con- front us. Now the Reformed confessions are unanimous re- specting the main points which they were intended to vindicate. They differ-in the manner in which the truths thus reasserted were applied, and very grave practical consequences depended on these vary- ing applications and developments of the primary principles of the Reformation. But the principles themselves may be distinguished from the special forms they assumed, whether in Lutheranism, or Cal- vinism, or in our own Church ; and they possessed a unity and vitality which are independent of such forms. The cardinal point in them all is a revived apprehension of our direct personal relation with God. In two grand instances it has been shewn by experience that the maintenance of this con- sciousness is the primary element alike in religion and in morality, and that the loss of it is at the root of all other corruptions. Those two instances are afforded by the history of the Jewish, and by that of the Christian, Church. Among the Jews, at the time of our Lord, a system was in full operation which, to all outward appearance, was in- tensely religious. The name of God was held in the most awful reverence ; the services at the Temple of Jerusalem were more magnificent than any religious 172 | The Faith of [Lecr. worship ever seen. But, with all this, the practical apprehension of God, in His direct personal relation to the soul, had become obscured ; and with the loss of that apprehension, the moral perceptions of the people had lost their vitality, and the conscience was deadened. The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican exhibits in the most vivid form the spirit which had supplanted a living faith. The Pharisee, coming into the presence of God, does not appear sensible of any imperfection. That awful presence in no way humiliates him. It does not bring into full light any consciousness of his own sin and feebleness. He only thanks God that he is not as other men are. The Publican, on the other hand, is overwhelmed by the sense of the Divine holiness. He stands afar off, and will not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smites upon his breast, saying, ‘God be merciful to me a sinner.’ The name of God was used by the Pharisee as the sanction for a system of ceremonial observances, which brought the human soul under a complete slavery. But he had at the same time utterly lost the sense of his relation to God Himself, and the spirit of combined humility and faith which it involves.