Disappointment is perhaps the most frequent of all the occasional causes of insanity; but the sudden kindling of hope sometimes produces the same lamentable effect. Yet before this emotion, congenial as it is to the human mind, can exert so fatal an influence, the expected good must be of immeasurable magnitude, and must appear in the light of the strongest probability; nor must even the vagueness of a distant futurity intervene; otherwise, tho swellings of desire and joy would be quelled, and reason might maintain its seat. On this principle perhaps it is, that the vast and highly exciting hope of immortal life very rarely, even in susceptible minds, generates that kind of emotion which brings with it the hazard of mental derangement. Religious madness, when it occurs, is most often the madness of despondency. But if the glories of heaven might, by any means, and in contravention of the established order of things, be brought out from the dimness and concealment of the unseen world, and be placed ostensibly on this side of the darkness and coldness of death, and be linked with objects familiarly known, they might then press so forcibly upon the passion of hope, and so inflame excitable imaginations, that real insanity, or an approach towards it, would probably, in frequent instances, be the consequence.
A provision against mischiefs of this kind is evidently contained in the extreme reserve of the Scriptures on all subjects connected with the unseen world. This reserve is so singular, and so extraordinary, seeing that the Jewish poets, prophets and preachers, were Asiatics, that it affords no trivial proof of the divine origination of the books: an intelligent advocate of the Bible would choose to rest an argument rather upon the paucity of its discoveries, than upon their plenitude.
But now a confident and dogmatical interpretation of those prophecies that are supposed to be on the eve of fulfilment, has manifestly a tendency thus to bring forth the wonders of the unseen world, and to connect them in sensible contact with the familiar objects and events of the present state. And such interpretations may be held with so full and overwhelming a persuasion of their truth, that heaven and its splendors may seem to stand at the door of our very homes: to-morrow, perhaps, the hastening crisis of the nations shall lift the veil which so long has hidden the brightness of the eternal throne from mortal eyes: each turn of public affairs, a war, a truce, a conspiracy, a royal marriage, may be the immediate precursor of that new era, wherein it shall no longer be true, as heretofore, that "the things eternal are unseen."
When an opinion, or, we should rather say, a persuasion of this imposing kind is entertained by a mind of more mobility than strength, and when it has acquired form, and consistency, and definiteness, by being long and incessantly the object of contemplation, it may easily gain exclusive possession of the mind: and a state of exclusive occupation of the thoughts by a single subject, if it be not real madness, differs little from it; for a man can hardly be called sane who is mastered by one set of ideas, and who has lost the will or the power to break up the continuity of his musings.
Whether or not this explanation be just, it is matter of fact that no species of enthusiasm has carried its victims nearer to the brink of insanity than that which originates in the interpretation of unfulfilled prophecy. It need not be asked whether there is not some capital error on the side of many who have given themselves to this study; for the indications of pitiable delusion have been of a kind not at all ambiguous. There must be present some lurking mischief when the study of any part of Holy Scripture issues in extravagance of conduct, and in an offensive turgidness of language, and produces—not quietness and peace, but a wild and quaking looking-for of impending wonders. There must be a fault of principle, if the demeanor of Christians be such that those who occupy the place of the unlearned are excused when they say "Ye are mad."
That some peculiar danger haunts this region of Biblical inquiry is established by a double proof; for not only have men of exorbitant imaginations and feeble judgment rushed towards it instinctively, and with the eagerness of infatuation; but sometimes the soundest understandings have lost, in these inquiries, their wonted discretion. At several periods of church history, and again in our own times, multitudes have drunk to intoxication of the phial of prophetic interpretation; and, amid imagined peals of the mystic thunder, have become deaf to the voice both of common sense and of duty. The piety of such persons—if piety it may be called—has made them hunger and thirst, nor for "the bread and water of life," but for the news of the political world. In such instances it may be confidently affirmed, previously to a hearing of the argument, that, even if the interpretation were true, it has become entangled with some knotted thread of error.
The proper remedy for evils of this kind is not to be found in the timid or overbearing prohibitions of those who endeavor to prevent the mischief by interdicting inquiry; and who would make it a sin or a folly for a Christian to ask the meaning of certain portions of Scripture. Cautions and restrictions of this nature are incompatible with the principle of Protestantism, as well as unnecessary, arrogant, and unavailing. If indeed man possessed any means of intrusion upon the mysteries of the upper world, or upon the secrets of futurity, there might be room to reprehend the audacity of those who should attempt to know by force or by importunity of research what has not been revealed. But when the unseen and the future are, by the spontaneous grace of Heaven, in part set open, and when a message which might have been withheld, has been sent to earth, encircled with a benediction like this—"Blessed are they that hear, and keep these words:" then it may most safely be concluded that whatever is not marked with the seal of prohibition, is open to scrutiny. In truth, there is something incongruous in the notion of a revelation enveloped in menace and restriction. But be this as it may, it is certain that whoever would shut up the Scriptures, in whole or in part, from his fellow disciples, or who affirms it to be unsafe or unwise to study such and such passages, is bound to show reasons of the most convincing kind for the exclusion. "What God has joined, let not man put asunder;" but he has connected his blessing, comprehensively, with the study of his word. It should be left to the Romish Church to employ that faulty argument of captious arrogance, which prohibits the use of whatever may be abused. Unless, then, it can be shown that a divine interdiction encloses the prophetic portions of Scripture, it must be deemed an ill-judged and irreligious, though perhaps well-intended usurpation, in any one who assumes to plant his little rod of obstruction across the highway of Revelation.
Moreover, prohibitions of this kind are futile, because impossible to be observed. Every one admits that the study of those prophecies which have already received their accomplishment is a matter of high importance and positive duty; "we have a sure word of prophecy, to which we do well to take heed." But how soon, in attempting to discharge this duty, are we entangled in a snare, if indeed the study of unfulfilled prophecy be in itself improper; for many of the prophecies, and those especially which are the most definite, and the most intelligible, stretch themselves across the wide gulf of time, and rest upon points intervening between the days of the seer and the hour when the mystery of providence shall be finished: and these comprehensive predictions, instead of tracking their way by equal and measured intervals through the course of ages, traverse vast spaces unmarked: and with a sudden bound, parting from an age now long gone by, attain at once the last period of the human economy. These abrupt transitions create obscurities which must either shut up the whole prophecy from inquiry, or necessitate a scrutiny of the whole; for at a first perusal, and without the guidance of learned investigation, who shall venture to place his finger on the syllable which forms the boundary between the past and the future, and which constitutes the limit between duty and presumption? A prediction which may seem to belong to futurity, will, perhaps, on better information be found to regard the past; or the reverse. These extensive prophecies, and such are those of Daniel and of John, must then either be shunned altogether from the fear of trespassing on forbidden ground, or they must be studied entire, in dependence upon other means than voluntary ignorance for avoiding presumption and enthusiasm. Whoever would discharge for others the difficult office of marking, throughout the Scriptures, the boundaries of lawful investigation, must himself first have committed the supposed trespass upon the regions of unfulfilled prophecy. We conclude, therefore, that a separation which no one can effect, is not really needed.
It is surely a mistaken caution which says—of the Apocalypse, for example—it is a dark portion of Scripture, and better let alone than explored. Very unhappy consequences are involved in such an interdiction. This magnificent book is introduced to the regards of the Church as a discovery of things that must shortly come to pass. Now we must either believe that the ἐν τάχει, was intended to indicate a period of eighteen hundred years (perhaps a much longer term) or admit that the initial, and probably the larger portions of the prophecy have already received their seal of verification from history, and come therefore fairly within the scope of even the most scrupulous rule of inquiry, and in fact should now form part of the standing evidence of the truth of Christianity. To think less than this seems to imply a very dangerous inference. If a part of this prophecy be actually accomplished; and if yet it be impracticable to assign the predictions to the events, will not one at least of the great purposes for which, as we are taught, prophecy was given, have been rather defeated than served? There is not perhaps a fulfilled prophecy on the page of inspiration which learned ingenuity might not plausibly allege to have been hitherto altogether misunderstood, and erroneously supposed to relate to such or such events. It is a matter of course that, when a multitude of minds variously influenced, and too often influenced by a wish to establish a theory upon which literary ambition may build its pretensions, are employed in the exposition of mystic predictions, every scheme to which any appearance of probability can be given, should actually find an advocate. And then those who wish to discourage inquiry may vauntingly say—See how various and how opposite are the opinions of interpreters! Meanwhile, it may be perfectly true, that among these various interpretations there may be one which, though not altogether unexceptionable, or wholly free from difficulties, will firmly secure the approval of every unprejudiced and intelligent inquirer.
Some very sober Christians, while endeavoring by all means to secure the young against the mania of prophetical interpretation, seem little aware of how far they are treading upon the very path which infidelity frequents. To advise a diligent study of prophecy (to those who have the leisure and learning requisite) would it not be far safer, than to shrug the shoulders in sage alarm, and to say—Prophecy! oh, let it alone!
The ancient Church received no cautions against a too eager scrutiny of the great prophecy left to excite its hope: on the contrary, the pious were "divinely moved" to search what might be the purport and season of the revelation made by the "Spirit of Christ" to the prophets; and though these predictions did in fact give occasion to the delusions of "many deceivers," and though they were greatly misunderstood, even by the most pious and the best informed of the Jewish people; yet did not the foreknowledge of these mischiefs and errors call for any such restrictions upon the spirit of inquiry as those wherewith some persons are now fain to hedge about the Scriptures.
To the Christian Church the second coming of Christ stands where his first coming stood to the Jewish, namely, in the very centre of the field of prophetic light; and a participation in the glories "then to be revealed" is even limited to those who in every age are devoutly "looking for him." It is true that this doctrine of the second coming of Christ has, like that of his first, wrought strongly upon enthusiastic minds, and been the occasion of some pernicious delusions; yet, for the correction of these incidental evils, we must look to other means than to any existing cautions given to the Church in the Scriptures against a too earnest longing for the promised advent of her King. To snatch this great promise from Scripture in hasty fear, and then to close the book lest we should see more than it is intended we should know, is not our part. On the contrary, it is chiefly from a diligent and comprehensive study of the terms of the great unfulfilled prophecy of Scripture, that a preservative against delusion is to be gathered. To check assiduous researches by cautions which the humble may respect, but which the presumptuous will certainly contemn, is to abandon the leading truth of Revelation to the uncorrected wantonness of fanaticism.
It is often not so much the instrinsic qualities of an opinion, as the unwarrantable confidence with which it is held, that generates enthusiasm. Persuade the dogmatist to be modest, as every Christian undoubtedly ought who thinks himself compelled to dissent from the common belief of the Church; persuade him to give respectful attention to the argument of an opponent; in a word, to surrender the topmost point of his assurance, and presently the high temperature of his feelings will come down near to the level of sobriety. To doubt after hearing of sufficient evidence, and to dogmatize where proof is confessedly imperfect, are alike the indications of infirmity of judgment, if not of perversity of temper; and these great faults, which never predominate in the character apart from the indulgence of unholy passions, seem often to be judicially visited with a hopeless imbecility of the reasoning faculties. Thus, while the sceptic becomes, in course of time, incapable of retaining his hold even of the most certain truths, the dogmatist, on the other hand, loses all power of suspending for a moment his decisions; and, as a feather and a ball of lead descend with the same velocity when dropped in a vacuum, so do all propositions, whether loaded with a weight of evidence or not, instantly reach, in his understanding, the firm ground of absolute assurance.
Instead, therefore, of enhancing the arrogance of the half-insane interpreter of prophecy by inviting him to display the blazing front of his argument, it may be better, if it can be done, to demonstrate that even though it should appear that his opinion carries a large balance of probability, there is still a special and very peculiar impropriety in the tone of dogmatism which, on this particular subject, he assumes; so that the error of the general Church, if it be an error, is actually less than the fault of him who, in this temper, may boast that he has truth on his side. Such a case of special impropriety may, in this instance, very clearly be made out.
The language of prophecy is either common or mystical. Predictions delivered in the style of common discourse, and free from symbols as they are little liable to diversities of explication, do not often tempt the ingenuity of visionaries: they may, therefore, be excluded from consideration in the present instance. Mystic prophecy, or future history written in symbols, under guidance of the divine foreknowledge, in being committed to the custody and perusal of mankind, must be presumed to conform itself to the laws of that particular species of composition to which it bears the nearest analogy. For if the Divine Being condescends at all to hold intercourse with men, it cannot be doubted that he will do so, not only in a language known to them, but in a manner perfectly accordant to the rules and proprieties of the medium he designs to employ. Now the prophecies in question not merely belong to the general class of symbolic writing, but there is to be discerned in them, very plainly, the specific style of the enigma, which, in early ages, was a usual mode of embodying the most important and serious truths. In the enigma, the principal subject is, by some ingenuity of definition, and by some ambiguity of description, at once held forth and concealed. The law by which it is constructed demands, that while there is given, under a guise, some special mark which shall prevent the possibility of doubt when once the substance signified is seen, that substance shall be so artfully depicted that the description, though it be a true representation, may admit of more than one explication. There can be no genuine and fair enigma in which these conditions are not complied with. For if no special mark be given, the true solution must want the means of vindicating its exclusive propriety, when the substance signified is declared; a vague riddle is none. Or if the special mark be not disguised, if no varnishing opacity be spread over it, the substance is manifested at once, and the enigma nullified. Again, if the general description is not so contrived as to admit of several plausible hypotheses, then also the whole intention of the device is destroyed, and the special mark rendered useless; for what need can there be of an infallible indicator which is to come in as arbiter among a number of competing solutions, if, in fact, no room be left for diversity of interpretation?
Whenever, therefore, among mystic enunciations we can detect the existence of some couched and specific note of identification, we may most certainly conclude that it is placed there to serve a future purpose of discrimination among several admissible modes of solution; or in other words, that the enigma is designedly so framed as to tempt and to allow a diversity of hypothetical explanations. An enigmatical or symbolical enunciation, conformed to these essential rules, serves the threefold purpose of presenting a blind to the incurious, a trap to the dogmatical, and an exercise of modesty, of patience, and of sagacity to the wise. And this seems to be the result intended, and actually accomplished by the symbolical prophecies of Scripture.
When the subject of enigma already stands within the range of our knowledge, and requires only to be singled out, the process of solution is simple. The several suppositions that seem to comport with the ambiguous description are to be brought together; and then the special mark must be applied to each in turn, until such a precise and convincing correspondence is discovered as at once strips the false solutions of all their pretensions: if the enigma be fairly constructed, this method of induction will never fail of success. Thus, with the page of history before us, those prophecies of Daniel, for example, which relate to the invasion of Greece by the Persians, to the subsequent overthrow of the Persian monarchy by the Macedonians, to the division of the conquests of Alexander, to the spread of the Roman arms, and to the subdivision of the Roman Empire, are interpreted without hazard of error, and with a completeness and a speciality of coincidence, that carries a conviction of the divine dictation of those prophecies to every honest mind.
A course somewhat less gratifying to the eagerness of enthusiastic spirits must be pursued, if the subject of the sacred enigma does not actually stand within our view; if it rest in a foreign region, as, for example, in the region of futurity. It will by no means follow that a symbolic prediction, which remains unfulfilled, ought not to be made the subject of investigation; for as the description doubtless contains, by condensation, the substance of the unknown reality, and perhaps also much of its character, it may, even when mingled with erroneous interpretations, serve important purposes in the excitement of pious hope. The delivery of these enigmas into the hands of the Church, and their intricate intermixture with fulfilled prophecies, and their being everywhere embossed with attractive lessons of piety and virtue, not to mention the explicit invitation to read and study them, may confidently be deemed to convey a full license of examination. Yet in these instances the well-known laws of the peculiar style in which the predictions are enveloped, suggest restrictions and cautions which no humble and pious expositor can overlook. The fault of the dogmatist in prophecy is then manifest. Is a mystic prediction averred to be unfulfilled? then we know, that, by the essential law of its composition, it is designedly, we might say artfully constructed, so as to admit of several, and perhaps of many, plausible interpretations, having nearly equal claims of probability; and we know, moreover, that the special mark couched amid the symbols, and which in the issue is to arbitrate among the various solutions, is drawn from some minute peculiarity in the surface and complexion of the future substance, and therefore cannot be available for the purpose of discrimination, until that substance, in the shape and color of reality, starts forth into day.
The expositor, therefore, who presumptuously espouses any one of the several interpretations of which an enigmatical prophecy is susceptible, and who fondly claims for it a positive and exclusive preference, sins most flagrantly against the unalterable laws of the language of which he professes himself a master. If dogmatism on matters not fully revealed be in all cases blameworthy, it is especially to be condemned in the expositor of enigmatic prophecy; and that, not merely because the events so predicted rest under the awful veil of futurity, and exist only in the prescience of the Deity; but because the chosen style of the communication lays a distinct claim to modesty, and demands suspension of judgment.—The use of symbols speaks a design of concealment; and do we suppose that what God has hidden, the sagacity of man shall discover? In issuing the prediction, he does indeed invite the humble, inquiries of the Church; and in employing symbols which have a conventional meaning he gives a clew to learned research; and yet, by the combination of these symbols in the enigmatic form, an articulate warning is presented against all dogmatical confidence of interpretation.
The adoption of an exclusive theory of exposition will not fail to be followed by an attempt to attach the special marks of prophecy to every passing event; and it is this very attempt which sets enthusiasm in a flame; for it belongs, in common, to all religious irregularities that, though mild and harmless while roaming at large among remote or invisible objects they assume a noxious activity the moment that they fix their grasp upon things near and tangible. There is scarcely any degree of sobriety of temper which can secure the mind against fanatical restlessness when once the habit has been formed of collating, daily, the newspaper and the prophets; and the man who, with a feeble judgment and an excitable imagination, is constantly catching at political intelligence—Apocalypse in hand—walks on the verge of insanity, or worse, of infidelity. In this feverish state of the feelings, mundane interests, under the guise of faith and hope, occupy the soul to the exclusion of "things unseen and eternal;" meanwhile, the heart-affecting elements of piety and virtue become vapid to the taste, and gradually fall into forgetfulness.
The fault of the dogmatical expositor of prophecy is especially manifested when he assumes to determine the chronology of unfulfilled predictions. In the instance of prophetic dates, the different lines of conduct suggested by the different styles of the communication, are readily perceived, and cheerfully observed by judicious and modest interpreters. We may take, for illustration, the predicted duration of the captivity of Judah, which was made known by Jeremiah (xxix. 10) in the intelligible terms of common and popular computation: nor could the supposition of a symbolic sense of the words be admitted by any sober expositor. On the authority of this unequivocal prediction, Daniel, as the time spoken of drew near, made confession and supplication in the full assurance of warranted faith. In this confidence there was no presumption, for his persuasion rested, not on the assumed validity of this or of that ingenious interpretation of symbols; but upon an explicit declaration which needed only to be read—not expounded.
But when the beloved seer received from his celestial informant the date of seventy weeks, which should fix the period of the Messiah's advent and preparatory sufferings, the employment of symbolic terms of itself announced the double intention of, at once, revealing the time, and of concealing it. For, as the terms, though mythic, bore a known import, they could not be thought to be absolutely shut up from research; yet, as by the mode of their combination they became susceptible of a considerable diversity of interpretation, the wise and good might, after all their diligence, differ in opinion as to the precise moment of accomplishment. Thus was devout inquiry at once invited and restrained; invited, because the language of the prediction was not unknown; and restrained, because it still asked for interpretation, and admitted a diversity of opinion. Those pious persons, therefore, who, at the time of the Messiah's birth, were "looking for the consolation of Israel," could not, unless favored with personal revelations, affirm "this is the very year of the expected deliverance;" for the symbolic chronology might, with an appearance of reason, bear a somewhat different sense. Yet might such persons, though not perfectly agreed in opinion, lawfully and safely join in an exulting hope, that the time spoken of was not far distant, when the son of David should appear.
The same rule is applicable to the position of the church at the present moment. No one, it may be affirmed, can have given due attention to the questions which have been of late so much agitated, without feeling compelled to acknowledge, that a high degree of probability supports the belief of an approaching extraordinary development of the mystery of providence towards Christendom, and perhaps, towards the whole family of man. That this probability is strong, might be argued from the fact that it has wrought a general concurrence of belief among those whose modes of thinking on most subjects are extremely dissimilar. Christians, amid many contrarieties of opinion, are, with a tacit or an explicit expectation, looking for movement and progression, to be effected either by a quickened energy of existing means, or by the sudden operation of new causes. This probable opinion, if held in the spirit of Christian modesty, affords, under the sanction of the coolest reason, a new and strong excitement to religious hope. He who entertains it may exultingly, yet calmly exclaim, "The night is far spent, the day is at hand;" and this kindling expectation will rouse him to greater diligence in every good work, to greater watchfulness against every defilement of heart, and frivolity of spirit, and inconsistency of conduct: he will strive with holy wakefulness, to live as the disciple should who is "waiting for his Lord." Thus far he can justify the new vivacity of his hopes upon the ground of the permanent motives of religion; for he feels nothing more than a Christian may well always feel; and the opinion he entertains relative to the near accomplishment of ultimate prophecy, serves only as an incitement to a state of mind in which he would fain be found, if called suddenly from the present scene. While giving free admission to sentiments of this sort, he knows that though he should be mistaken in his theoretical premises, he shall certainly be right in his practical inference.
But if the discreet Christian is tempted or solicited to admit an incongruous jumble of political speculations and Christian hopes; if he is called upon to detach in any degree, his attention from immediate and unquestionable duties, and to fix his meditations on objects that have no connection with his personal responsibility; then he will check such an intrusion of turbulence and distraction, the tendency of which he feels to be pernicious, by recollecting that his opinion, how probable soever it may seem, is, at the best, nothing more than one hypothesis among the many, which offer themselves in explanation of an enigmatical prediction. To-day this hypothesis pleases him by its plausibility; to-morrow he may reject it on better information.
Nothing, then, can be much more precise than the line which forms the boundary between the legitimate and an enthusiastic feeling on the subject of prophecy. Is a prediction couched in symbol? is it entangled among perplexing anachronisms? is it studded with points of special reference? We then recognize the hand of Heaven in the art of its construction; and we know that it is so moulded as to admit and invite the manifold diversities of ingenious explication and that, therefore, even the true explication must, until the day of solution, stand undistinguished in a crowd of plausible errors. But for a man to proclaim himself the champion of a particular hypothesis, and to employ it as he might an explicit prediction, is to affront the Spirit of prophecy by contemning the chosen style of his announcements. And what shall be said of the audacity of one who, with no other commission in his hand than such as any man may please to frame for himself, usurps the awful style of the seer, pronounces the doom of nations, hurls thunders at thrones, and worse than this, puts the credit of Christianity at pawn in the hand of infidelity, to be lost beyond recovery, if not redeemed on a day specified by the fanatic for the verification of his word!
The agitation which has recently taken place on the subject of prophecy, may, perhaps, ere long, subside, and the church may again acquiesce in its old sobrieties of opinion.[3] And yet a different and a better result of the existing controversy seems not altogether improbable; for when enthusiasm has raved itself into exhaustion, and has received from time the refutation of its precocious hopes; and when, on the other side, prosing mediocrity has uttered all its saws, and has fallen back into its own slumber of contented ignorance, then the spirit of research and of legitimate curiosity, which no doubt has been diffused among not a few intelligent students of Scripture, may bring on a calm, learned, and productive discussion of the many great questions that belong to the undeveloped destiny of man. And it may be believed that the issue of such discussions will take its place among the means that shall concur to usher in a brighter age of Christianity.
Not indeed as if any fundamental principle of religion remained to be discovered; for the spiritual church has, in every age, possessed the substance of truth, under the promised teaching of the Spirit of truth. But, obviously, there are many subjects, more or less clearly revealed in the Scriptures, upon which serious errors maybe entertained, consistently with genuine, and even exalted piety: they do indeed belong to the entire faith of a Christian, but they form no part of its basis; they may be detached or disfigured without great peril to the stability of the structure. Almost all opinions relating to the unseen world, and to the future providence of God on earth, are of this extrinsic or subordinate character; and, as a matter of fact, pious and cautious men have, on subjects of this kind, held notions so incompatibly dissimilar, that the one or the other must have been utterly erroneous. But the detection of error always opens a vista of hope to the diligence of inquiry; and with the mistakes of our predecessors before us for our warning, and with a highly improved state of Biblical learning for our aid, it may fairly be anticipated that a devout and industrious reconsideration of the evidence of Scripture will yet achieve some important improvements in the opinions of the church on these difficult and obscure subjects.
Nevertheless, though an expectation of this kind may seem reasonable, there is, on the other hand some ground to imagine that the accomplishment of the inscrutable designs of the Divine Providence may require that the pious should henceforth, as heretofore, continue to entertain not only imperfect, but very mistaken notions of the unseen and the future worlds. Well-founded hopes and erroneous interpretations have been linked together in the history of the church in all ages, even from that hour of fallacious exultation when the mother of a murderer exclaimed—"I have gotten the man from the Lord," the man who should "break the serpent's head." Neither the discharge of present duties, nor the exercise of right affections, nor a substantial preparation for taking a part in the glory that is to be revealed, is perhaps at all necessarily connected with just anticipations of the unknown futurity. Thus, when the infant wakes into the light of this world, every organ presently assumes its destined function: the heaving bosom confesses the fitness of the material it inhales to support the new style of existence; and the senses admit the first impressions of the external world with a sort of anticipated familiarity; and though utterly untaught in the scenes upon which it has so suddenly entered, and inexperienced in the orders of the place where it must ere long act its part, yet it is truly "meet to be a partaker of the inheritance" of life. And thus, too, a real meetness for his birth into the future life may belong to the Christian, though he be utterly ignorant of its circumstances and conditions. But the functions of that new life have been long in a hidden play of preparation for full activity. He has waited in the coil of mortality only for the moment when he should inspire the ether of the upper world, and behold the light of eternal day, and hear the voices of new companions, and taste of the immortal fruit, and drink of the river of life; and then, after perhaps a short season of nursing in the arms of the elder members of the family above, he will take his place in the service and orders of the heavenly house; nor ever have room to regret the ignorances of his mortal state.
The study of those parts of Scripture which relate to futurity should therefore be undertaken with zeal, inspired by a reasonable hope of successful research; and at the same time with the modesty and resignation which must spring from a not unreasonable supposition that all such researches may be fruitless. So long as this modesty is preserved, there will be no danger of enthusiastic excitements, whatever may be the opinions which we are led to entertain.
It must be evident to every calm mind, that the discussion of questions confessedly so obscure, and upon which the evidence of Scripture is limited and of uncertain explication, is ordinarily improper to the pulpit. The several points of the catholic faith afford themes enough for public instruction. But matters of learned debate are extraneous to that faith: they are no ingredients in the bread of life, which is the only article committed to the hands of the teacher for distribution among the multitude. What are the private and hypothetical opinions of a public functionary to those whom he is to teach the principles of the common Christianity? And if these doubtful opinions implicate inquiries which the unlearned can never prosecute, a species of imposition is implied in the attempt to urge them upon simple hearers. It is truly a sorry triumph that he obtains who wins by declamation and violence the voices of a crowd in favor of opinions which men of learning and modesty neither defend nor impugn but with diffidence. The press is the proper organ of abstruse controversy.
[3] Written in 1828.
No species of enthusiasm, perhaps, is more extensively prevalent, and certainly none clings more tenaciously to the mind that has once entertained it, and none produces more practical mischief, than that which is founded on an abuse of the doctrine of a particular Providence. It is by the fortuities of life that the religious enthusiast is deluded. Chance, under a guise stolen from piety, is his divinity. He believes, and he believes justly, that every seeming fortuity is under the absolute control of the divine hand; but in virtue of the peculiar interest he supposes himself to have on high, he is tempted to think that these contingencies are very much at his command. This belief naturally inclines him to pay more regard to the unusual, than to the common course of events. In contemplating God as the disposer of chances, he becomes forgetful of him who is the governor of the world by known and permanent laws. All the honor which he does to one of the divine attributes, is in fact stolen from the reverence due to another; but he should remember that "the Lord abhorreth robbery for offering."
A propensity to look more to chance than to probability is known invariably to debilitate the reasoning faculty, as well as to vitiate the moral sentiments; and these constant effects are more often aggravated than mitigated by the accession of religious sentiments. The illusions of hope then assume a tone of authority which effectually silences the whispers of common sense; and the imagination, more highly stimulated than when it fed only on things of earth, boldly makes a prey of the divine power and goodness, to the utter subversion of humble piety. A sanguine temper, quickened by perverted notions of religion, easily impels a man to believe that he is privileged or skilled to penetrate the intentions of Providence towards himself; and the anticipations he forms on this ground acquire so much consistency by being perpetually handled, that he deems them to form a much more certain rule of conduct than he could derive from the forecastings of prudence, or even from the dictates of morality.
Delusions of this kind are the real sources of many of those sad delinquencies which so often bring reproach upon a profession of religion. The world loves to call the offender a villain; but in fact he was not worse than an enthusiast. He who, in conducting the daily affairs of life, has acquired the settled habit of calculating rather upon what is possible than upon what is probable, naturally slides into the mischievous error of paying court to Fortune, rather than to Virtue; nor will his integrity or his principles of honor be at all strengthened by the mere metonymy of calling Fortune—Providence. It is easy to fix the eye upon the clouds in expectation of help front above with so much intentness that the tables of right and wrong, which stand before us, shall scarcely be seen. This very expectation is a contempt of prudence; and it is not often seen that those who slight Prudence, pay much regard to her sister—Probity.
Or if consequences so serious do not follow from the notion that the fortuities of life are an available fund at the disposal of the favorite of heaven, yet this belief can hardly fail to spread an infection of sloth and presumption through the character. The enthusiast will certainly be remiss and dilatory in arduous and laborious duties. Hope, which is the incentive to exertion in well-ordered and energetic minds, slackens every effort if the understanding be crazed. The wheel of toil stands still while the devotee implores assistance from above. Or if he possesses more of activity, the same false principle prompts him to engage in enterprises from which, if the expected contingent to be furnished by "Providence," be deducted, scarcely a shred of fair probability remains to recommend the scheme.
If the course of events in human life were as constant and uniform as the phenomena of the material world, none but madmen would build their hopes upon the irregularities by which it is diversified. Nor would the enthusiast do so if he gave heed to the principles that impose order upon the apparent chaos of fortuities from which the many-colored line of human life is spun. To expose, then, the error of those who, on pretext of faith in providence, build presumptuous expectations upon the throws of fortune, we must analyse the confused mass of contingences to which human life is liable. This analysis leaves the folly and impropriety of the enthusiast without excuse.
Any one who recalls to his recollection the incidents, great and small, that have filled up the days of a year past, will find it easy to divide them into two classes, of which the first, and the larger, comprises those events which common sense and experience might have enabled him to anticipate, and which, if he were wise, he did actually anticipate, so far as was necessary for the regulation of his conduct. The ground of such calculations of futurity is nothing else than the uniform course of events in the material world, and the permanent principles of human nature, and the established order of the social system: for all these, though confessedly liable to many interruptions, are yet so far constant as to afford, on the whole, a safe rule of calculation. If there were no such uniformity in the course of events, the active and reasoning faculties of man would be of no avail to him; for the exercise of them might as probably be ruinous as serviceable. In the whirl of such a supposed anarchy of nature, an intelligent agent must refrain from every movement, and resign himself to be borne along by the eddies of confusion. But this is not the character of the world we inhabit: the connection of physical causes and effects is known and calculable, so that the results of human labor are liable to only a small deduction on account of occasional irregularities. We plant and sow, and lay up stores, and build, and construct machines in tranquil hope of the expected benefit; and indeed, if the variations and irregularities of nature were much greater and more frequent than they are, or even if disappointment were as common as success, the part of wisdom would still be the same; for the laws of nature, though never so much broken in upon by incalculable accidents, would still afford some ground of expectation; and an intelligent agent will always prefer to act on even the slenderest hope which reason approves, rather than to lie supine in the ruinous wheel-way of chance.
And notwithstanding its many real, and many apparent irregularities, there is also a settled order of causes and effects in the human system, as well as in the material world. The foundation of this settled order is, the sameness of human nature in its animal intellectual and moral constitution, of which the anomalies are never so great as to break up all resemblance to the common pattern. Then those conventional modes of thinking and acting which sway the conduct of the mass of mankind, strengthen the tendency to uniformity, and greatly counteract all disturbing causes. Then again the sanctioned institutions of society give stability and permanence to the order of events, and altogether afford so much security in calculating upon the future, that, whoever by observation and reflection has become well skilled in the ordinary movements of the machinery of life may, with confidence and calmness, if not with absolute assurance of success, risk his most important interests upon the issue of plans wisely concerted.
Skill and sagacity in managing the affairs of common life, or wisdom in council and command, is nothing else than an extensive and ready knowledge of the intricate movements of the great machine of the social system; and the high price which this skill and wisdom always bears among men, may be held to represent two abstractions; first, the perplexing Irregularities of the system to which human agency is to be conformed; and then, the real and substantial Uniformity of the movements of that system. For it is plain that if there were no perplexing irregularities, superior sagacity would be in no request; or, on the other hand, if there were not a real constancy in the course of affairs, even the greatest sagacity would be found to be of no avail, and therefore would be in no esteem.
There is then a substantial, if not an immovable substratum of causes and effects, upon which, for the practical and important purposes of life, calculations of futurity may be formed. And this is the basis, and this alone, on which a wise man rests his hopes, and constructs his plans; he well knows that his fairest hopes may be dissipated, and his best plans overthrown; and yet, though the hurricanes of misfortune were a thousand times to scatter his labors, he would still go on to renew them in conformity with the same principles of calculation; for no other principles are known to him, and the extremest caprices of Fortune will never so prevail over his constancy as to induce him to do homage to Chance.
The second, and the less numerous class of events that make up the course of human life, are those which no sagacity could have anticipated; for though in themselves they were only the natural consequences of common causes, yet those causes were either concealed, or remote, and were, therefore, to us and our agency the same as if they had been absolutely fortuitous. By far the larger proportion of these accidents arises from the intricate connections of the social system. The thread of every life is entangled with other threads beyond all reach of calculation, the weal and woe of each depends, by innumerable correspondences, upon the will, and caprices, and fortune, not merely of the individuals of his immediate circle, but upon those of myriads of whom he knows nothing. Or, strictly speaking, the tie of mutual influence passes, without a break, from hand to hand, throughout the human family: there is no independence, no insulation, in the lot of man; and therefore there can be no absolute calculation of future fortunes; for he whose will or caprice is to govern that lot stands, perhaps, at the distance of a thousand removes from the subject of it, and the attenuated influence winds its way in a thousand meanders before it reaches the point of its destined operation.
Both these classes of events are manifestly necessary to the full development of the faculties of human nature. If, for example, there were no constancy in the events of life, there would be no room left for rational agency; and if, on the other hand, there were no inconstancy, the operations of the reasoning faculty would fall into a mechanical regularity, and the imagination and the passions would be iron-bound, as by the immobility of fate. It is by the admirable combination of the two principles of order and disorder, of uniformity and variety, of certainty and of chance, that the faculties and desires are wrought up to their full play of energy and vivacity of reason and of feeling. But it is especially in connection with the doctrine of Providence that we have at present to consider these two elements of human life; and as to the first of them, it is evident that the settled order of causes and effects, so far as it may be ascertained by observation and experience, claims the respect and obedience of every intelligent agent; since it is nothing less than the will of the Author of nature, legibly written upon the constitution of the world. This will is sanctioned by immediate rewards and punishments; health, wealth, prosperity, are the usual consequents of obedience; while sickness, poverty, degradation, are the almost certain inflictions that attend a negligent interpretation, or a presumptuous disregard of it. The dictates of prudence are in truth the commands of God; and his benevolence is vindicated by the fact, that the miseries of life are, to a very great extent, attributable to a contempt of those commands.
But there is a higher government of men, as moral and religious beings, which is carried on chiefly by means of the fortuities of life. Those unforeseen accidents which so often control the lot of men, constitute a superstratum in the system of human affairs, wherein, peculiarly, the Divine Providence holds empire for the accomplishment of its special purposes. It is from this hidden and inexhaustible mine of chances—chances, as we must call them—that the Governor of the world draws, with unfathomable skill, the materials of his dispensations towards each individual of mankind. The world of nature affords no instances of complicated and exact contrivance, comparable to that which so arranges the vast chaos of contingencies, as to produce, with unerring precision, a special order of events adapted to the character of every individual of the human family. Amid the whirl of myriads of fortuities, the means are selected and combined for constructing as many independent machineries of moral discipline as there are moral agents in the world; and each apparatus is at once complete in itself, and complete as part of a universal movement.
If the special intentions of Providence towards individuals were effected by the aid of supernatural interpositions, the power and presence of the Supreme Disposer might indeed be more strikingly displayed than it is; but his skill much less. And herein especially is manifested the perfection of the divine wisdom, that the most surprising conjunctions of events are brought about by the simplest means, and in a manner so perfectly in harmony with the ordinary course of human affairs, that the hand of the Mover is ever hidden beneath second causes, and is descried only by the eye of pious affection. This is in fact the great miracle of providence—that no miracles are needed to accomplish its purposes. Countless series of events are travelling on from remote quarters towards the same point; and each series moves in the beaten track of natural occurrences; but their intersection, at the very moment in which they meet, shall serve, perhaps, to give a new direction to the affairs of an empire. The materials of the machinery of Providence are all of common quality; but their combination displays nothing less than infinite skill.
Having then these two distinguishable classes of events before us, namely, those which may be foreknown by human sagacity, and those which may not; it is manifest that the former exclusively is given to man as the sphere of his labors, and for the exercise of his skill; while the latter is reserved as the royal domain of sovereign bounty and infinite wisdom. The enthusiast, therefore, who neglects and contemns those dictates of common sense which are derived from the calculable course of human affairs, and founds his plans and expectations upon the unknown procedures of Providence, is chargeable not merely with folly, but with an impious intrusion upon the peculiar sphere of the divine agency. This impiety is shown in a strong light when viewed in connection with those great principles which may be not obscurely discerned to govern the dispensations of Providence towards mankind.
In the divine management of the fortuitous events of life, there is, in the first place, visible, some occasional flashes of that retributive justice, which, in the future world, is to obtain its long postponed and perfect triumph. There are instances which, though not very common, are frequent enough to keep alive the salutary fears of mankind, wherein vindictive visitations speak articulately in attestation of the righteous indignation of God against those who do evil. Outrageous villanies, or appalling profaneness, sometimes draw upon the criminal the instant bolt of divine wrath, and in so remarkable a manner that the most irreligious minds are quelled with a sudden awe, and confess the hand of God. And again there is just perceptible, as it were, a gleam of divine approbation, displayed in a signal rewarding of the righteous, even in the present life: a blessing "which maketh rich" rests sometimes conspicuously upon the habitation of disinterested and active virtue: "the righteous is as a tree planted by the rivers of water: whatsoever he doeth, prospers." In these anomalous cases of anticipated retribution, the punishment or the reward does not arrive in the ordinary course of common causes; but starts forth suddenly from that storehouse of fortuities whence the divine providence draws its means of government. If the oppressor, by rousing the resentment of mankind, is dragged from the seat of power, and trodden in the dust; or if the villain who "plotteth mischief against his neighbor on his bed," is at length caught in his own net, and despoiled of his wrongful gains, these visitations of justice, though truly retributive, belong plainly to the known order of causes and effects: they are nothing more than the natural issues of the culprit's course; and therefore do not declare the special interference of Heaven. But there are instances of another kind, in which the ruin of villany or of violence comes speeding as on a shaft from above, which, though seemingly shot at random, yet hits its victim with a precision and a peculiarity that proclaims the unerring hand of divine justice.
In like manner there are remarkable recompenses of integrity, of liberality, of kindness to strangers, and, most especially, of duty to parents, which arrive by means so remote from common probability, and yet so simple, that the approbation of him who "taketh pleasure in the path of the just," is written upon the unexpected boon. There are few family histories that would not afford examples of such conspicuous retributions. Nevertheless, as they are confessedly rare, and administered by rules absolutely inscrutable to human penetration, there can hardly be a more daring impiety than, in particular instances, to entertain the expectation of their occurrence. Yet the enthusiast finds it hard to abstain, in his own case, from such expectations; and is tempted perpetually to indulge hopes of special boons in reward of his services, and is forward and ingenious in giving an interpretation that flatters his spiritual vanity to every common favor of providence; the bottles of heaven are never stopped but to gratify his taste for fine weather! A readiness to announce the wrath of heaven upon offenders, is a presumption which characterizes, not the mere enthusiast, but the malign fanatic, and therefore comes not properly within our subject; and yet the species of enthusiasm now under consideration is very seldom free from some such impious tendency.
In the divine management of the fortuities of life, there may also be very plainly perceived a dispensation of moral exercise, specifically adapted to the temper and powers of the individual. No one can look back upon his own history without meeting unquestionable instances of this sort of educational adjustment of his lot, effected by means that were wholly independent of his own choice or agency. The casual meeting with a stranger, or an unexpected interview with a friend; the accidental postponement of affairs; the loss of a letter, a shower, a trivial indisposition, the caprice of an associate; these, or similar fortuities, have been the determining causes of events, not only important in themselves, but of peculiar significance and use in that process of discipline which the character of the individual was to undergo. These new currents in the course of life proved, in the issue, specifically proper for putting in action the latent faculties of the mind, or for holding in check its dangerous propensities. Whoever is quite unconscious of this sort of overruling of his affairs by means of apparent accidents, must be very little addicted to habits of intelligent reflection.
Doubtless every man's choice and conduct determine, to a great extent, his lot and occupation; but not seldom, a course of life much better fitted to his temper and abilities than the one he would fain substitute for it, has, year after year, and in spite of his reluctances, fixed his place and employment in society; and this unchosen lot has, if we may so speak, been constructed from the floating fragments of other men's fortunes, drifted by the accidents of wind and tide across the billows of life, till they were stranded at the very spot where the individual for whom they were destined was ready to receive them. By such strong and nicely-fitted movements of the machine of Providence it is, that the tasks of life are distributed where best they may be performed, and its burdens apportioned where best they may be sustained. By accidents of birth or connection, the bold, the sanguine, the energetic, are led into the front of the field of arduous exertion; while by similar fortuities, quite as often as by choice, the pusillanimous, the fickle, the faint-hearted, are suffered to spend their days under the shelter of ease, and in the recesses of domestic tranquillity.
But who shall profess so to understand his particular temper, and so to estimate his talents, as might qualify him to anticipate the special dispensations of Providence in his own case? Such knowledge, surely, every wise man will confess to be "too wonderful" for him. To the Supreme Intelligence alone it belongs to distribute to every one his lot, and to "fix the bounds" of his abode. Yet there are persons, whose persuasion of what ought to be their place and destiny is so confidently held, that a long life of disappointment does not rob them of the fond hypotheses of self-love; and just in proportion to the firmness of their faith in a particular providence, will be their propensity to quarrel with Heaven, as if it debarred them from their right in deferring to realize the anticipated destiny. Presumption, when it takes its commencement in religion, naturally ends in impiety.
Men who look no farther than the present scene, may, with less glaring inconsistency, vent their vexation in accusing the blindness and partiality of fate, which has held their eminent talents and their peculiar merits so long under the veil of obscurity; but those who acknowledge at once a disposing providence and a future life, might surely find considerations proper for imposing silence upon such murmurings of disappointed ambition. Let it be granted to a man that his vanity does not deceive him, when he complains that adverse fortune has prevented his entering the very course upon which nature fitted him to shine, and has, with unrelenting severity, confined him, year after year, to a drudgery in which he was not qualified to win even a common measure of success: all this may be true; but if the complainant be a Christian, he cannot find it difficult to admit that this clashing of his fortune with his capacities, or his tastes, may have been the very exercise necessary to ensure his ultimate welfare. Who will deny that the reasons of the divine conduct towards those who are in training for an endless course must always lie at an infinite distance beyond the range of created vision? Who shall venture even to surmise what course of events may best foster the germ of an imperishable life; or who conjecture what contraventions of the hopes and interests of an individual may find their reasons and necessity somewhere in the wide universe of consequences incalculably remote?
Whether the promise "that all things shall work together for good to those who love God," is to be accomplished by perpetual sunshine or by incessant storms, no one can anticipate in his own case: or if any one were excepted, it must be the enthusiast himself, who might almost with certainty calculate upon receiving a dispensation the very reverse of that which it has been the leading error of his life to anticipate. He might thus calculate, both because his expectations are in themselves exorbitant and improbable, and because the presumptuous temper from which they spring loudly calls for the rebuke of heaven.
Amid the perplexities which arise from the unexpected events of life, we are not left without sufficient guidance; for although, in particular instances, the most reasonable calculations are baffled, and the best plans subverted, yet there remains in our hands the immutable rule of moral rectitude, in an inflexible adherence to which we shall avoid what is chiefly to be dreaded in calamity—the dismal moanings of a wounded conscience. "He that walketh uprightly walketh surely," even in the path of disaster. And while, on the one hand, he steadily pursues the track which prudence marks out; and, on the other, listens with respectful attention to the dictates of honor and probity, he may, without danger of enthusiasm, ask and hope for the especial aids of Divine Providence, in overruling those events that lie beyond the reach of human agency.
Prayer and calculation are duties never incompatible, never to be disjoined, and never to shackle one the other. For while those events only which are probable ought to be assumed as the basis of plans for futurity, yet, whatever is not manifestly impossible, or in a high degree improbable, may lawfully be made the object of submissive petition. Few persons, and none who have known vicissitudes, can look back upon past years without recollecting signal occasions on which they have been rescued from the impending and apparently inevitable consequences of their own misconduct, or imprudence, or want of ability, by some extraordinary intervention in the very crisis of their fate, or, perhaps, they have been placed by accident in circumstances of peril, where as it seemed, there remained not a possibility of escape. But while the ruin was yet in descent, rescue, which it would have been madness to expect, came in to preserve life, fortune, or reputation, from the imminent destruction. That such conspicuous deliverances do actually occur is matter of fact; nor will the Christian endure that they should be attributed to any other cause than the special care and kindness of his heavenly Father: and yet, as they belong to an economy which stretches into eternity and as they are not administered on any ascertained rule, they can never come within the range of our calculations, or be admitted to influence our plans: a propensity to indulge such expectations indicates infirmity of mind, and is in fact an intrusion upon the counsels of infinite wisdom.
Nevertheless, so long as these extraordinary interventions are known to consist with the rules of the divine government, they may be contemplated as possible without violating the respect that is due to its ordinary procedures; and may, therefore, without enthusiasm, be solicited in the hour of peril or perplexity. The gracious "Hearer of prayer", who, on past and well-remembered occasions has signally given deliverance, may do so again, even when, if we think of our own imprudence, we have reason to expect nothing less than destruction. What are termed by irreligious men 'the fortunate chances of life', will be regarded by the devout mind as constituting a hidden treasury of boons, held at the disposal of a gracious hand for the incitement of prayer, and for the reward of humble faith. The enthusiast who, in contempt of common sense and of rectitude, presumes upon the existence of this extraordinary fund, forfeits, by such impiety, his interest in its stores. But the prudent and the pious, while they labor and calculate in strict conformity to the known and ordinary course of events, shall not seldom find that, from this very treasury of contingencies, "God is rich to them that call upon him".
In minds of a puny form, whose enthusiasm is commonly mingled with some degree of abject superstition, the doctrine of a particular providence is liable to be degraded by habitual association with trivial and solid solicitudes. This or that paltry wish is gratified, or vulgar care relieved, 'by the kindness of providence;' and thanks are rendered for helps, comforts, deliverances, of so mean an order, that the respectable language of piety is burlesqued by the ludicrous character of the occasion on which it is used. The fault in these instances does not consist in an error of opinion, as if even the most trivial events were not, equally with the most considerable, under the divine management; but it is a perversion and degradation of feeling which allows the mind to be occupied with whatever is frivolous, to the exclusion of whatever is important. These petty spirits, who draw hourly, from the matters of their personal comfort or indulgence, so many occasions of prayer and praise, are often seen to be insensible to motives of a higher kind: they have no perception of the relative magnitude of objects; no sense of proportion; and they feel little or no interest in what does not affect themselves. We ought, however, to grant indulgence to the infirmity of the feeble; and if the soul be indeed incapable of expansion, it is better it should be devout in trifles, than not devout at all. Yet these small folks have need to be warned of the danger of mistaking the gratulations of selfishness for the gratitude of piety.
It is a rare perfection of the intellectual and moral faculties which allows all objects great and small, to be distinctly perceived, and perceived in their relative magnitudes. A soul of this high finish may be devout on common occasions without trifling; it will gather up the fragments of the divine bounty, that "nothing be lost"; and yet hold its energies and its solicitudes free for the embrace of momentous cares. If men of expanded intellect, and high feeling, and great activity, are excused in their neglect of small things, this indulgence is founded upon a recollection of the contractedness of the human mind, even at the best. The forgetfulness of lesser matters, which so often belongs to energy of character, is, after all, not a perfection, but a weakness and a more complete expansion of mind, a still more vigorous pulse of life, would dispel the torpor of which such neglects are the symptoms.
Thwarted enthusiasm naturally generates impious petulance. If we encumber the Providence of God with unwarranted expectations, it will be difficult not so to murmur under disappointment as those do who think themselves defrauded of their right. In truth, amidst the sharpness of sudden calamity, or the pressure of continued adversity, the most sane minds are tempted to indulge repinings which reason, not less than piety, utterly condemns. The imputation of defective wisdom, or justice, or goodness, to the Being of whom we can form no notion apart from the idea of absolute knowledge, rectitude, and benevolence, is too absurd to need a formal refutation; and yet how often does it survive all the rebukes of good sense and religion! So egregious an error could not find a moment's lodgment in the heart, if it did not meet a surface of adhesion where presumption has been torn away. The exaggerations of self-love not quelled, but rather inflated by an enthusiastic piety, inspire feelings of personal importance so enormous, that even the infinitude of the divine attributes is made to shrink down to the measure of comparison with man. When illusions such as these are rent and scattered, how pitiable is the conscious destitution and meanness of the denuded spirit! with how cruel a shock does it fall back upon its true place in the vast system of providence!
Whoever entertains, as every Christian ought, a strong and consoling belief of the doctrine of a Particular Providence, which cares for the welfare of each, should not forget to connect with that belief some general notions, at least, of that system of Universal Providence which secures individual interests, consistently with the well-being of the whole. Such notions, though very defective, or even in part erroneous, may serve first to check presumption, and then to impose silence upon those murmurs which are its offspring.
A law of subordination manifestly pervades that part of the government of God with which we are acquainted, and may fairly be supposed to prevail elsewhere. Lesser interests are the component parts of greater; and so closely are the individual fates of the human family interwoven, that each member, however insignificant he may seem, sustains a real relationship of influence to the community. The lot of each must therefore be shapen by reasons drawn from many, and often from remote quarters. Yet in effecting this complex combination of parts, infinite wisdom prevents any clashing of the lesser with the larger movements; and we may feel assured that, on the grounds either of mere equity or of beneficence, the dispensations of Providence are as compactly perfect towards each individual of mankind as if he were the sole inhabitant of an only world. If Heaven, in its condescension, were to implead at the bar of human reason, and set forth the motives of its dealings towards this man or that, these motives might, no doubt, be alleged and justified in every particular, without making any reference to the intermingled interests of other men: and it might be shown that, although certain events were in fact followed by consequences much more important to others than to the individual immediately affected, yet they did in the fullest sense belong to the personal discipline of the individual, and must have taken place irrespectively of those foreign consequences.
This perfect fitting and finishing of the machinery of Providence to individual interests, must be premised; yet it is not less true that, in almost every event of life, the remote consequences vastly outweigh the proximate, in actual amount of importance. Every man prospers, or is overthrown, lives, or dies, not for himself; but that he may sustain those around him, or that he may give them place; and who shall attempt to measure the circle within which are comprised these extensive dependences? On principles even of mathematical calculation, each individual of the human family may be demonstrated to hold in his hand the centre lines of an interminable web-work, on which are sustained the fortunes of multitudes of his successors. These implicated consequences, if summed together, make up therefore a weight of human weal or woe that is reflected back with an incalculable momentum upon the lot of each. Every one is then bound to remember that the personal sufferings or peculiar vicissitudes or toils through which he is called to pass, are to be estimated and explained only in an immeasurably small proportion if his single welfare is regarded; while their full price and value are not to be computed unless the drops of the morning dew could be numbered.
Immediate proof of that system of interminable connection which binds together the whole human family may be obtained by every one who will examine the several ingredients of his physical, intellectual, and social condition; for he will not find one of these circumstances of his lot that is not, in its substance or quality, directly an effect or consequence of the conduct, or character, or constitution of his progenitors, and of all with whom he has had to do; if they had been other than they were, he must also have been other than he is. And then our predecessors must, in like manner, trace the qualities of their being to theirs; thus the linking ascends to the common parents of all; and thus must it descend, still spreading as it goes, from the present to the last generation of the children of Adam.
Nor is this direct and obvious kind of influence the only one of which some plain indications are to be discerned; and without at all following the uncertain track of adventurous speculation, it may fairly be surmised that the same law of interminable connection, a law of moral gravitation, stretches far beyond the limits of the human family, and actually holds in union the great community of intelligent beings. Instances of connection immensely remote, and yet very real, might be adduced in abundance: the influence of history upon the character and conduct of successive generations is of this kind. Whatever imparts force or intensity to human motives, and by this means actually determines the course of life, may assuredly claim for itself the title and respect due to an efficient cause, and must be deemed to exert an impulsive power over the mind. Now the records of history, how long soever may have been the line of transmission which has brought them to our times, fraught as they are with instances applicable to all the occasions of real life, do thus, in a very perceptible degree, affect the sentiments and mould the characters of mankind; nor will any one speak slightingly of this species of causation who has compared the intellectual condition of nations rich in history with that of a people wholly destitute of the memorials of past ages. The story of the courage, or constancy, or wisdom of the men of a distant time becomes, in a greater or a less degree, a subsidiary cause of the conduct of the men of each succeeding generation. Thus the few individuals in every age to whom it has happened to live, and act, and speak under the focus of the speculum of history, did actually live, and labor, and suffer for the benefit of mankind in all future times; just as truly as a father toils for the advantage of his family. And if the whole amount of the influence which has in fact flowed from the example of the wise, the brave, and the good, could have been placed in prophetic vision before them, while in the midst of their arduous course, would not these worthies contentedly and gladly have purchased so immense a wealth of moral power at the price of their personal sufferings?