INTERPRETATION OF LANGUAGE.
The mind of man is confined in its operations by the material system it
inhabits, and has no modes of communicating with other minds except
through the medium of the eye and ear. It is by signs addressed to the
eye and by sounds affecting the ear that ideas are communicated and
received.
It is by the power of _association_, which enables us to recall certain
ideas together which have been frequently united, that the use of
language is gained. The infant finds certain states of mind produced by
material objects invariably connected with certain sounds. This is done
so often that whenever a certain perception occurs, the sound recurs
which has been so often united with it.
If language is correctly defined as "any sound or sign which conveys the
ideas of one mind to another," it is probable that children learn
language at a much earlier period than is generally imagined. It is
impossible to know how soon the infant notices the soft tones of its own
voice when happy, or the moaning or shrill sound that expresses its own
pain, and by comparing them with those of its mother, learns, through
its little process of reasoning, that another spirit has emotions of
pleasure and pain corresponding with its own. Nor can we determine how
soon these pleasant sounds of the mother's voice begin to be associated
with the benignant smile, or the tones of grief with the sorrowful
expression, or the tones of anger with the frowning brow.
It seems very rational to suppose that _sound_, to the infant mind, is
what first leads to the belief of the emotions of another mind, by means
of a comparison of its own sounds with those originating from another.
After this is done, the eye comes in for a share in these offices. The
little reasoner, after thousands of experiments, finds the pleasant
sound always united with the smiling face, until the object of vision
becomes the sign for recalling the idea at first obtained by sound. In
gaining the common use of language, we know this is the order of
succession. We first learn the _sounds_ that recall ideas, and then, by
means of a frequent union of these sounds with some _visible sign_, the
power once possessed simply by the sound is conveyed to the sign. Thus
we have words that are sounds and words that are visible signs.
The communion of one spirit with that of others in every-day life is
maintained ordinarily through the medium of _sounds_; but when distance
intervenes, or when some record is to be preserved of the thoughts and
feelings of other beings, then signs addressed to the eye are employed.
In civilized nations, the signs used are a certain number of arbitrary
marks, which are arranged in a great variety of combinations, and each
combination is employed to recall some particular idea or combination of
ideas. These arbitrary signs are called letters, and in the English
language there are only twenty-six; yet, by the almost infinite variety
of combination of which these are capable, every idea which one mind
wishes to communicate to another can be expressed.
A _written word_ is a single letter or a combination of letters used as
a sign to recall one or more ideas. It is considered by the mind as a
unit or whole thing, of which the letters are considered as parts, and
is shown to be a unit by intervals or blank spaces that separate it from
the other words of a sentence. The fact that it is considered by the
mind as _a unit_, or a sign separate from all other combinations of
letters, is the peculiarity which constitutes it a _word_. A _syllable_
is a combination of letters which is not considered as a unit, but is
considered as a _part_ of a word.
Words are used to recall the ideas of _things_, _qualities_, _changes_,
and _circumstances_. Some words recall the idea of a thing without any
other idea connected with it; such are the words _mind_, _ivory_. Some
words recall the idea of quality simply, such as _red_, _hard_, _sweet_.
Some words recall the ideas of change merely, such as _motion_,
_action_. Some words recall simply the idea of relation or circumstance,
such as _on_, _under_, _about_. Sometimes ideas of things, and their
actions and relations, are recalled by the same sign; thus _wrestler_
recalls the idea of a thing and its action, and _giant_ of a thing and
its _relation_. Some words recall a variety of ideas; thus the term
_begone_ recalls the idea of two things, of the desire of a mind and of
its mode of expression.
In the process of learning language, mankind first acquire names for the
several things, qualities, changes, and circumstances that they notice,
and afterward learn the process of _combining_ these names, so as to
convey the mental combination of one mind to another. A person might
have names for all his ideas, and yet, if he had never learned the art
of properly combining these signs, he never could communicate the varied
conceptions of his own mind to another person. Suppose, for
illustration, that a child had learned the meaning of the terms _cup_,
_spoon_, _the_, _put_, _into_, _little_, _my_; it would be impossible
for him to express his wish till he had learned the proper _arrangement_
of each term, and then he could convey the conception and wishes of his
own mind, viz., "Put the spoon into my little cup."
We see, then, how the new combinations of ideas in one mind can be
conveyed to another. The two persons must both have the _same ideas_
attached to the _same sign_ of language, and must each understand the
_mode of combination_ to be employed. When this is done, if one person
sees a new object, he can send to his friend the signs which represent
all its qualities, circumstances, and changes arranged in a proper
manner. The absent person will then arrange the _conceptions_ recalled
by these words, so as to correspond with those of his correspondent.
In all languages, the same word often is used to recall different ideas,
and the meaning of words depends often on their _mode of combination_.
The _art of interpreting_ consists in ascertaining the particular ideas
conveyed by words _in a given combination_.
There are two modes of using language which need to be distinctly
pointed out, viz., _literal_ and _figurative_.
In order to understand these modes, it is necessary to refer to the
principles of _association_. Neither our perceptions or conceptions are
ever single, disconnected objects except when the power of abstraction
is employed. Ordinarily, various objects are united together in the
mind, and those objects which are most frequently united in our
perceptions, as a matter of course, are those which are most frequently
united in our conceptions.
Now, by the power of _abstraction_, the mind can regard the same object
sometimes as a unit or whole, and sometimes can disconnect it, and
consider it as several distinct things. Thus it happens that ideas which
are connected by the principles of association are sometimes regarded as
a whole, and sometimes are disconnected, and considered as separate
existences.
Language will be found to be constructed in exact conformity to this
phenomenon of mind. We shall find that objects ordinarily united
together, as cause and effect, have the _same name_ given, sometimes to
the _cause_, sometimes to the _effects_, and sometimes it embraces _the
whole_; or the thing, its causes and its effects. As an example of this
use of language may be mentioned the term _pride_. We sometimes hear
those objects which are the _cause_ of pride receiving that name. Thus a
child is called the pride of its parents. The same name is applied
simply to the _state of mind_, as when a man is said to be under the
influence of pride, while the _effects_ of pride receive the same
appellation when we hear a haughty demeanor and consequential deportment
called pride. The term is used in its most extended signification as
including the thing, its causes, and its effects, when we hear of the
"pride of this world," which is soon to pass away, signifying equally
the causes of this feeling, the feeling itself, and the effects of it.
_Literal language_ is that in which all words have the ordinary meaning
as commonly used.
_Figurative language_ is that in which the ordinary names, qualities,
and actions of things are ascribed to _other things_ with which they
have been associated.
As an example of the use of language which is _figurative_, we find
_tears_, that are the _effects_ of grief, called by the name of the
_cause_; thus:
"Streaming _grief_ his faded cheek bedewed."
On the contrary, we find the cause called by the name of the effects in
this sentence:
"And _hoary hairs_ received the reverence due."
Here age is called by the name of one of its effects.
The indiscriminate application of names to things which have been
connected by _time_, _place_, or _resemblance_, abounds in figurative
language. The following is an example where one object is called by the
name of another with which it has been connected by _place_:
"The _groves_ give forth their songs."
Here birds are called by the name of the groves with which they have
been so often united as it respects _place_. The following is an example
where an object is called by the name of another with which it is
connected by _time_:
"And _night_ weighed down his heavy eyes."
Here _sleep_ is called by the name of _night_, with which it has been so
often united. The following is an example where one object is called by
the name of another with which it has been connected by the principle of
_resemblance_:
"You took her up, a little, tender bud,
Just sprouted on a bank."
Here a young female is called by the name of an object with which she is
connected by the association of resemblance. When one object is thus
called by the name of another which it resembles, the figure of speech
is called a _metaphor_.
When dominion is called a _sceptre_; the office of a bishop, the _lawn_;
the profession of Christianity, the _cross_; a dwelling is called a
_roof_; and various expressions of this kind, one thing is called by the
name of another of which it is a _part_, or with which it has been
connected as a circumstance, cause, or effect.
Not only do objects which have been united in our perceptions receive
each other's _names_, but the _qualities_ of one are often ascribed to
the other. The following are examples in which the qualities of the
cause are ascribed to the effect, and the qualities of the effect are
ascribed to the cause:
"An impious mortal gave a _daring_ wound."
Here the quality of the _cause_ is ascribed to the _effect_.
"The _merry_ pipe is heard."
Here the quality of the _effect_ is ascribed to the _cause_. The
following is an example where the quality of one thing is ascribed to
another connected with it by _time_:
"Now _musing_ midnight hallows all the scene."
The following is an example of the quality of one thing ascribed to
another, connected with it by _place_:
"when sapless age
Shall bring thy father to his _drooping_ chair."
We have examples of the qualities of one thing ascribed to another which
it _resembles_ in such expressions as these--"imperious ocean,"
"tottering state," "raging tempest." The following is an example of a
thing called by the name of one of its qualities or attending
circumstances:
"What art thou, that usurpest this time of night,
Together with the fair and warlike form
In which the _majesty_ of buried _Denmark_
Did sometimes walk?"
Here a king is called by the name of a quality and by the name of his
kingdom.
It is owing to the principle of association that another mode of
figurative language is employed called _personification_. This consists
in speaking of a quality which belongs to living beings as if it were
the being in which such a quality was found. This is owing to the fact
that the conceptions of qualities of mind are always united with some
being, and therefore such ideas are connected ones. Thus it is said in
the sacred writings,
"Mercy and truth are met together."
"Righteousness and peace have embraced each other."
"Wisdom crieth aloud, she uttereth her voice."
Another mode of personification is owing to the fact that the actions
and relations of inanimate existences very often resemble those of
living beings, so that such ideas are associated by the principle of
resemblance. In such cases, the actions, properties, and relations of
living beings are ascribed to inanimate objects. Thus, when the sea
roars and lifts its waves toward the skies, the actions are similar to
those of a man when he raises his arm in supplication. An example of
this kind of figurative language is found in this sublime personification
of Scripture: "The mountains saw thee, and trembled; the overflowing of
the waters passed by; the deep uttereth his voice, and lifted up his
hands on high; the sun and moon stood still in their habitations." Other
examples of this kind are found when we hear it said that "the fields
smile," "the woods clap their hands," "the skies frown," and the like.
One cause of figurative language is found in the similarity of effects
produced on the body by operations of mind and operations of matter.
Whatever causes affect the mind in a similar manner are called by the
same name. Thus, when a man endeavors to penetrate a hard substance, the
muscles of his head and neck are affected in a particular manner. The
same muscles are affected in a similar way when a person makes powerful
and reiterated efforts to comprehend a difficult subject. Both these
actions, therefore, are called by the same name, and a man is said to
_penetrate_ the wood with an instrument, or to _penetrate_ into the
subject of his investigations. Thus joy is said to _expand_ the breast,
because it does, in fact, produce a sensation which resembles this
action. There is a great variety of figurative language founded on this
principle. Indeed, there is little said respecting the mind, and its
qualities and operations, where we do not apply terms that describe the
qualities, actions, and relations of matter.
It is also the case that _actions_ and _relations_ that resemble each
other are called by the same name, without regard to the objects in
which they exist. Thus the skies are said _to weep_. Here there is, in
fact, the same action as is weeping in mankind, and it receives the same
name, though it is connected with a different subject. Thus, also, the
sword is said to be "_drunk_ with the blood of the slain." Here the same
relation exists between the blood and the sword as between a man and an
immoderate quantity of liquor, and the relation receives the same name
in each case.
_An allegory_ is a succession of incidents and circumstances told of one
thing which continually recall another thing, which it resembles in the
particulars mentioned. Thus the aged Indian chief describes himself by
an allegory: "I am an aged hemlock. The winds of a hundred years have
swept over its branches; it is dead at the top; those that grew around
have all mouldered away."
_A parable_ is of the same character as an allegory.
_A type_ is an object of conception in which many of its qualities and
relations resemble another object that succeeds it in regard to _time_.
_Hyperbole_ is a collection of actions, qualities, or circumstances
ascribed to an object which are contrary to the laws of experience, and
this language is employed to express excited feeling. Thus, by
hyperbole, a person is said to be "_drowned_ in tears."
_Irony_ is language used in such a manner as to contradict the known
opinions of the speaker, and is intended to represent the absurdity or
irrationality of some thing conceived by him.
_Symbols_ are material things employed to convey the ideas of one mind
to another. Thus, as the cultivation of the olive is connected with
seasons of peace, an olive branch is used to express the idea of peace.
_Symbolic language_ is the use of words that are names of symbols in
place of the names of things represented by symbols. Thus the word olive
might be used instead of the word peace.
Figurative language, especially metaphors and symbolic words, abound in
the writings of the earliest nations; and as what are claimed to be the
earliest revelations of the Creator are recorded in these languages, the
rules for interpreting figurative language are of the highest
importance.
The preceding illustrates the principles upon which both literal and
figurative language are constructed. The question now arises, How are we
to determine when expressions are to be interpreted literally and when
they are figurative? One single rule will be found sufficient in all
cases, viz.:
All language is _literal_ when the common meaning of each word is
consistent with our experience as to the nature of things, and
consistent with the other sentiments of the writer.
All language is _figurative_ when the names, qualities, and actions
ascribed to things are inconsistent with our experience of the nature of
things, or contradict the known opinions of the writer.
In the preceding examples of figurative language, it can readily be seen
that a literal interpretation would in all cases form combinations of
ideas which are opposed to experience as to the nature of things. For
example, "_grief_" can not be conceived of as "bedewing a face," because
it is an emotion of mind; nor do "hoary hairs" literally ever receive
honor; nor do "groves sing," nor "night weigh down the eyes."
In like manner, where the qualities of one thing are ascribed to another
with which it has been connected, there is no difficulty in determining
that the language is figurative; for a "wound" can not have the quality
of "daring," which belongs only to mind, nor can a "pipe" be literally
considered as "merry," or "midnight" as "musing;" nor would it be
consistent with experience to think of a "chair" as "drooping." Nor in
the case of personification is there any more cause of difficulty. Mercy
and truth, righteousness, peace, and wisdom, are qualities of mind, and
can not be conceived of as "meeting," "embracing," and "crying aloud" in
any other than a figurative sense. And when the ocean is said to "lift
up his hands," and the sun and moon to "stand still in their
habitations," the laws of experience forbid any but a figurative
interpretation.
In the case of an _allegory_ and all symbolic language, the same rule
applies with equal clearness and certainty. In the example given, it
would be a violation of the laws of experience to conceive of a man as a
tree with branches and a withered top.
_Hyperbole_ is readily distinguished by the same rule. _Irony_ is known
by its being contradictory to the known opinions of the writer. Thus
there is never any difficulty in deciding when language is literal and
when it is figurative in cases where men have the laws of experience by
which to determine.
On the supposition of a revelation from the Creator, there must be
subjects upon which mankind have had _no experience_, such as the nature
of the Deity, the character and circumstances of the invisible world and
of its inhabitants. On these subjects all language must be literal when
the literal construction is not in contradiction to the known or implied
opinion of the other declarations; for on these subjects, as the laws of
experience can not regulate in deciding between figurative and literal
language, it is impossible to show any reason why words should not be
literal except by comparison with the other statements of the same
author. If these show no reasons for supposing it figurative, it must of
necessity be considered as literal; for if neither experience nor the
writer's opinions oppose a literal meaning, there is _no_ cause why the
ordinary and common signification of words should not be retained.
The next inquiry is, How are we to ascertain the ideas which are to be
attached to words that are used figuratively? If the common ideas which
are recalled by words are not the proper ones, what are the data for
knowing _which_ are the ideas to be recalled? The laws of association,
upon which language is founded, furnish an adequate foundation for
determining this question. If language is such that a literal
construction is contrary to the nature of things, the words used
figuratively must express something which has been connected with the
object recalled by the literal signification, either as _cause_ or
_effect_, or as something which it _resembles_, or as something it has
been connected with as a _part_, or by circumstances of _time_ or
_place_. Of course, a process of reasoning will soon decide which of
these must be selected. Take, for example, the expression,
"Streaming grief his faded cheek bedewed."
Here, as "grief" can not bedew the cheek, it must be the name of
something which has been connected with grief, either by the principle
of resemblance, contiguity in time or place, or by the relation of cause
and effect. It is easy to determine that it can not be either of these
except the last. Tears are the effect of sorrow, and are therefore
called by this name. The nature of the idea conveyed by the figurative
term will show whether the cause or effect, or some object related to it
as it respects time, place, or resemblance, is intended, and no
difficulty can ever occur in deciding. In all cases this general rule
avails: when words are used figuratively, such ideas as have been in any
way connected with them are to be retained as will be consistent with
the known nature of things, and consistent with other assertions of the
writer.
In regard to the _literal_ use of language, it has been shown that the
same term is sometimes used for the name of the thing ordinarily
expressed by it, sometimes for its cause, sometimes for its effect, and
sometimes as including all these ideas. The rule for determining in
which of these senses the term is used is the same as in regard to
figurative language, viz., that signification must be attached to the
term which is in agreement with experience as to the nature of things,
and with the other sentiments of the writer. Thus, in relation to the
example given of the term pride, suppose a child is called the "pride of
its parents." We know it can not mean the _emotion of mind_; that it can
not mean the _effects_ of this state of mind; and its only other meaning
is found consistent with experience, viz., it is the _cause_ or occasion
of pride to its parents. The same mode of reasoning can be applied to
the other uses of the term. If a man is said to feel pride, there is but
one meaning which can be attached to the term. If it is said that "the
pride of the world passeth away," it includes the whole, and signifies
that the causes of pride pass away, and with them the emotions and the
effects.
The following, then, are the clear and simple rules to employ in
interpreting all language:
LAWS OF INTERPRETATION.
1. The literal, ordinary meaning is to be given to all words, unless it
would express what is inconsistent with experience as to the nature of
things, or inconsistent with the opinions of the writer.
2. When the words in a sentence are capable of several literal meanings,
that is to be chosen which makes the writer most consistent with himself
and with all known circumstances.
3. When the literal meaning expresses what is not consistent with the
nature of things or with the writer's other declarations, then the
language is _figurative_, and only such a part of the ideas as have been
in any way connected with the words used are to be retained as will
secure such consistency.
4. In deciding the meaning of words, we are to be guided by the
principles of common sense, viz.: No meaning is to be given unless there
is _some_ evidence that it is true; and, when there is conflicting
evidence, that meaning is the true one which has the _balance_ of
evidence in its favor.
ADDENDA TO VOL. I.
The second volume will commence with a description of the _kind_ of
evidence which sustains the Bible as a collection of authentic and
authoritative records of revelations from the Creator. This kind of
evidence, it will be shown, in one grand feature is entirely diverse
from any that ever existed, or even that was ever _claimed_ to exist in
reference to any pretended revelations.
It will also be shown that this evidence is as strong and reliable as
that which regulates men in their daily practical concerns.
This attempt the writer supposes to be, in some respects, peculiar, and
one that is particularly calculated to affect popular apprehension,
especially that of well-balanced and practical minds. Instead of a great
array of detail and argument, the whole will be contained in a very few
pages, easily comprehended, and demanding but little time or effort.
In the next place, the laws of interpretation, and the principles of
common sense as set forth in this volume, will be _applied_ to discover
the answers of the Sacred Oracles to the great questions of life, and
their agreement with reason, experience, and the moral sense of mankind.
This will involve a discussion of the _philosophical theories_ which it
is believed have obscured and diminished the influence of the great
Atoning Sacrifice of "the Great God our Savior Jesus Christ."
The work will conclude with the practical application of the views set
forth to the greatest of all human interests, the _right_ training of
the human mind in infancy and childhood.
Before offering to the public the topics to be embraced in the last
volume, it is deemed expedient to present the _great principles_ on
which all the discussions are to rest, and also a fair illustration of
the mode in which these principles will be applied.
The following is the illustrative example:
_Theological Dogma of a Depraved Mental Constitution._
In the preceding pages we have seen the evidence that the mind of man is
_perfect_ in its _constitutional powers_, and is thus the chief and
highest evidence of the wisdom, justice, and benevolence of its Creator.
But the systems of theology in all the Christian sects, excepting a
small fraction, teach that the mind of man comes into existence in this
world with "_a depraved nature_;" meaning by this a mental constitution
more or less depraved.
That this is the ordinary dogma of theological teachings is clear from
this statement of the case. A thing can be wrong in only two conceivable
ways: one is by its nature or original construction, and the other is by
its action. The mind of man, therefore, if it is not perfect every way,
is either wrong in _construction_ or wrong in _action_. Now no person
ever claimed that the mind of man was not depraved in action, and
therefore all who teach that it is depraved any other way must teach
that it is depraved in its constitution, or in that nature it received
from its Maker, for there are only these two modes of depravity
conceivable.
It being granted, then, that the mind of our race is depraved in its
nature, of course the Author of this nature is responsible for this
inconceivable and wholesale wrong. This forces us to the inevitable
conclusion that the Creator of mind is a being guilty of the highest
conceivable folly, injustice, and malignity. For reason and common sense
teach that "the nature of a contrivance is proof of the character and
intention of its author." Therefore, if mind is depraved in
construction, the Author of it is a depraved being, and totally unworthy
of our trust, respect, or love.
This is the argument which, in all ages, has been pressed on those
theologians who maintain the dogma of the depraved nature of man, and
there have been these various methods by which this difficulty has been
evaded:
One class openly avow that the Creator had power to make the mind of man
perfect in all respects, and that he has proved that he has this power
by making the minds of angels and of our first parents thus perfect.
But, in consequence of our first parents eating the forbidden fruit,
every mind created since that time has been ruined in the making, so as
to be totally depraved. This, it is maintained, it was right for God to
do. _How_ it was right we have no business to inquire. It is an awful
mystery; but it was so done that God "is in no way the author of sin."
This amounts simply to a denial of the principle of reason, "that the
nature of a contrivance is proof of the intention and character of the
contriver." It is saying that the author of sin is not the author of
sin.
This will be still farther apparent if we refer to page 158, where is
exhibited the only conceivable modes in which one being can be the cause
of sin or of wrong action in others. God is undisputably the author of
all the _outward_ circumstances that surround us. If, then, he has made
our susceptibilities wrong, or combined them wrong, he is the author of
sin in every conceivable sense.
Whoever, therefore, affirms that God is the author of a depraved mental
organization of the human mind, affirms that he is "the author of sin"
in every conceivable sense. To assert such a fact, and then deny that
God is the author of sin, is simply a contradiction in terms.
To avoid this dilemma, theologians have instituted the following
theories:
The first class teach that the first pair of the human race were made
with perfect minds, and then stood as representatives of the race and
sinned for the whole. The first part of the penalty came on the actual
sinners in the ruin of their own mental constitution, and then, all men
being _represented_ in Adam and Eve, the Creator "imputed" this sin to
all their posterity, and, as a penalty, all receive a depraved mental
constitution.
That is to say, though each of the unborn millions descended from Adam
was innocent of the crime, in order to be just, God "imputes" it to
each, and, as a penalty, ruins each in its organization, when He has
full power to make perfect minds.
Another class assume that the Creator established such a constitution of
things that the nature of one mind is transmitted to all its myriad
descendants, by the same law as the nature of a plant is included in one
seed and is transmitted to all of its future kind. The first parents of
our race, receiving perfect minds from their Creator, ruined them by one
act of disobedience. Then, by the above law, instituted by their Maker,
they transmitted this depraved constitution of mind to all their
descendants.
This mode of evading responsibility is about as honorable as if a
teacher should so construct springs and traps for his pupils that one
little fellow, when forbidden to do it, should touch a spring that
should cut off his own hand, and thus move other springs that would maim
all the rest of the school, while the master lays all the blame on the
child that disobeyed.
Another class teach that the first man and woman of the race were made
with perfect minds, and then such a constitution of things was
instituted by God that every mind of the human race was so existing with
or in them, that when Adam and Eve _voluntarily_ disobeyed the Creator's
first law, every one of their descendants _voluntarily_ did the same
thing; and then, as a penalty for the deed, the parent and every one of
the embryo descendants became "totally depraved."
This theory, which makes every human being guilty of a crime thousands
of years before we were born, and for which we are suffering the most
awful of all penalties, has nearly passed away to the puerilities of the
old schoolmen, and yet there are some of the most popular professors in
our largest and most respectable theological seminaries who are publicly
advocating it at this very time.
Another method promulgated is the assumption that all the race were
originally created perfect, and then, while in the possession of every
possible advantage for virtue and happiness, they ruined themselves in a
previous state of existence. This is the only theory which really meets
the difficulty, and relieves the character of the Creator from being the
guilty author of depraved minds.
But this theory, even if it could be established by revelation, does not
remedy the strong argument of reason and experience against the wisdom
and benevolence of the Creator, on the assumption of a depraved
constitution of mind. The man denying a revelation, who is called upon
to receive one, can say, Here is a race, every one of whom is ruined,
and, so far as I can see, in the making of his mind by the Creator.
Therefore this Creator, by his works, is shown to be a being of infinite
folly and malignity, from whom no _reliable_ revelation is possible.
Granting the mind to be depraved, the light of reason inevitably guides
to a weak or malevolent Creator. To illustrate this, suppose a man is
seen manufacturing beautiful porcelain vases, and out of the "clay of
the same lump," as he makes them, he spoils every one, cracking,
marring, and defacing them in the very process of manufacture. Now
suppose this person should turn to a witness, and offer to instruct him
in the _best way of doing things_, what would be the common-sense reply?
Exactly that which would be due to a Creator who has ruined every mind
he sent into this world, and then proposes to reveal the _right way for
those ruined creatures to act_!
Another illustration may be permitted. Suppose a colony, by some
mischance, settles on an isolated island, which is found covered with
the tobacco plant. They clear their plantations, but find that, by a
remarkable and unintelligible arrangement, after every shower there is a
fall of tobacco seeds, disseminated from an inaccessible height by a
machine erected for the purpose and constantly supplied.
After some years, they receive a missive from the king to whom the
island belongs, in which he informs them that tobacco is the chief
object of his detestation; that it is doing incalculable mischief to his
subjects; that it is the chief end of his life, and he wishes it to be
of theirs, to exterminate the plant, and thus its use.
He, at the same time, states that he is the author of the contrivance
for scattering the seed, and that he keeps it constantly supplied, and
claims that he has a right "to do what he will with his own," without
being questioned by his subjects.
He then enacts that any person who is found to use tobacco, or even to
have a single seed or plant on his premises, shall be burned alive in a
caldron of fire and brimstone.
If, in addition to this, that king were to command supreme love to him,
and perfect confidence in his wisdom, justice, and goodness, all this
would but faintly illustrate that awful system under consideration,
whose penalties are _eternal_.
The assumption that the constitution of mind is depraved not only
destroys the evidence of the Creator's wisdom and benevolence by the
light of reason, but _destroys the possibility of a credible and
reliable revelation from him_.
For the belief in the existence of a God is dependent on an intuitive
truth, while his character is understood, without a revelation, only by
the aid of that intuitive truth which teaches that the nature of his
works proves his character and designs. Now if his greatest work, the
immortal mind, that which alone gives any value to his other works, is
malformed, and thus made the cause of all the misery, crime, and evil of
this life, what is there to give any foundation for confidence that his
revelations will not be false, pernicious, and malignant?
No man can start with the assumption that there is a revelation from the
Creator that needs no proof. The only basis for such a revelation is
that intuitive truth by the aid of which miracles and prophecy become
evidences of the interposition of the Creator. Thus we perceive that the
proof that "the author of a depraved constitution of mind is a depraved
being," is as strong as the evidence of a revelation by miracles and
prophecy can be.
In regard to these theories, and in regard to the dogma of theology
which they are instituted to explain, it is claimed that both reason and
the Bible equally forbid each and all of them.
It has already been shown, in Chapters xxii. and xxiii., that all the
evidence of reason and experience goes to prove that the mind of man is
perfect in its organization. We have only to inquire, then, in regard to
the evidence claimed to be found in revelations from the Creator.
Before examining this evidence, it is important to notice the
distinction between _revealed facts_ and the _theories_ invented to
explain them.
The _fact_, which both experience and revelation agree in teaching, is
that man, as a race, is guilty and depraved in _action_, and that from
the earliest periods of life this _depraved action_ is manifested.
The _theories_ relate to _the cause_ of this wrong action, and there are
only two. The first theory is, that the constitution of mind is perfect,
and that the wrong action results from a want of experience, knowledge,
right habits, right training, and right social influences.
The second theory is, that the constitution of mind is depraved, and
that its wrong action is the inevitable result of this wrong
construction.
Then come the theories in reference to _the cause_ of this assumed
malformation of mind. There are only two ever assigned, viz., God and
man: God by creation, and man by sinning _in_ Adam or _before_ Adam in a
pre-existent state.
By those who ascribe the deed to God, it is claimed that he perpetrated
this wholesale wrong to our race in one of two ways, viz., either by the
direct miscreation of each mind at or near the time of birth, or by
creating such a constitution of things that by one wrong act the first
pair transmitted, from parent to child, through the whole race, a
vitiated and depraved mental constitution.
We now resort to the Bible to ascertain what are its teachings on this
subject.
In the first place, then, we find a constant recognition of the fact of
a depraved _action_ of mind, and that this commences at the earliest
period of life. On this, as a revealed _fact_, there is no debate.
Next, in regard to the _theories_ instituted to account for this fact.
Here we shall only discuss the commonly accepted theory of the Christian
world, and leave the other for the future volume.
The main reliance for the support of the common theory of a miscreated
mind is found in Genesis, chapters i. and v., which, it is claimed,
teaches, in the first place, that God could and did create the first
human pair with minds perfectly organized, and, next, that after they
sinned, their descendants came into life with a depraved mental
constitution. The passages read thus:
Gen., i., 26, 27: "_And God said, 'Let us make man in our image, after
our likeness.'_"
"_So God created man in his own image; in the image of God created he
him, male and female created he them._"
Gen., v., 3: "_And Adam begat a son in his own likeness, after his
image, and called his name Seth._"
The whole question in these passages turns on the meaning of the words
"image" and "likeness."
Now the only conceptions possible of the "image or likeness" of a human
mind to its spiritual Creator are, first, resemblance in its
constitutional powers of intellect, susceptibility, and will, and, next,
resemblance in the _action_ of these faculties.
That man is the image and likeness of his Maker in constitutional powers
is clear, because we can not have any conception of the Creator but as
of a mind like our own, infinite in the extent of such capacities. This,
then, is _one_ respect in which the first pair could be in the image or
likeness to God.
The other only conceivable respect in which they could resemble their
Creator is by _their own voluntary action, and this can not be conceived
of as created_.
Man is the sole producing cause (see page 158) of his own _voluntary_
acts, which alone decide moral character. Should God create these, man
would cease to be their author and cease to be a free agent.
It is thus manifest that a mind can be _created_ in the image of God, so
far as we can conceive, only in its constitutional powers of intellect,
susceptibility, and will.
This being established as the meaning of the word when it is said that
Adam begat Seth "in his own image," if it has reference to the mind
alone, or chiefly, then it means that the mental organization of the
child was like the parent's, and thus like the Creator's.
In the New Testament, the chief passages which are supposed to bear on
this subject are in Romans, chapter v. These are the main texts:
Verse 12: "_Wherefore as by one man sin entered into the world, and
death by sin, and so death passed upon all men for that all have
sinned._"
Verse 19: "_For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so
by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous._"
Here we again are to discriminate between _facts_ and _theories_. The
_facts_ here stated are, that by one man sin entered into the world, and
death by sin; that death comes on all men because all sin; and that by
one man's disobedience many were made sinners.
Then come the _theories_ as to _the mode_ by which many were made
sinners by the sin of one man.
Here the Bible is silent. But theologians have manufactured the _theory_
that when Adam sinned the constitution of his mind was changed, and then
that this nature was transmitted to his descendants. All this is without
a word of proof.
Others have assumed that all mankind were existing in Adam, and "sinned
in him, and fell with him," which is both unintelligible, and equally
without support from the Bible.
These, it is believed, are all ever claimed as direct Scripture evidence
of a depraved constitution of mind consequent on Adam's sin. Two other
passages are quoted as having an _indirect_ bearing on this subject.
They are as follows:
2 Peter, ii., 4: "_For if God spared not the angels that sinned, but
cast them down to hell, and delivered them into chains of darkness to be
reserved unto judgment_"--
Jude, 6 verse: "_And the angels which kept not their first estate, but
left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under
darkness unto the judgment of the great day._"
In regard to these passages, we are to notice, as before, first, the
_facts_ revealed, and, next, the _theories_ instituted in regard to
them.
The facts are, that there are two classes of angels, those that have
sinned and those that have not; that those that sinned kept not their
first estate, but left their habitations; that God cast them down to
hell, and that they are reserved in chains of darkness unto the judgment
of the great day.
These are all the facts disclosed. Not a word is said as to the _cause_
or _reason_ why some sinned and some did not, nor as to the mode or
manner by which these events were brought about. Here the _theories_
come in.
Those who maintain the depravity of the human mental constitution frame
their theory on these passages thus:
It is here taught that there are a class of minds that have never
sinned. There must be _a cause_ for this diversity from man's
experience. _This cause is a perfect mental constitution._ This, it is
seen, is _a mere assumption, without a word of proof from the passages
quoted_! What is quite as remarkable is, that this theory is maintained
in the face of the concession that both Adam and the fallen angels were
as well endowed as the unsinning angels in regard to mental
constitution, and yet that they all sinned just as the descendants of
Adam have done.
This dogma has been sustained by certain misconceptions that should be
considered.
The first is in the use of the term "nature." As this word is ordinarily
used, it signifies that constitution, received from the Author of all
things, which makes certain results or effects _invariable_. Thus, when
a fountain invariably sends forth bitter waters, it is called its
"nature" to do so; when a tree invariably produces bitter fruit, this is
called its "nature." Now if it was a fact that the human mind never
acted right, but invariably wrong, it would be proper to apply this
term, and to say that in its "nature" it was totally depraved.
But this is not the fact. "Sin is a transgression of law," and every
child, from the first, sometimes obeys and sometimes disobeys the
physical, social, and moral laws of God. No child ever _invariably_
breaks them, but sometimes obeys and sometimes disobeys.
But theologians have mystified the subject by assuming the very thing to
be proved, and then "reasoning in a circle." Thus they assume, not only
without, but contrary to evidence, that all human minds _invariably_ act
wrong from the first; therefore there must be a cause, and this cause is
the "nature" received, directly or indirectly, from the Creator. Then
they assume that, as every mind is "totally depraved" in its "nature,"
it can no more produce holy acts than a corrupt tree can produce good
fruit, or a bitter fountain send forth sweet waters.
Another misconception which has embarrassed this subject has arisen from
the supposition that it is irreverent, and contrary to the Bible, to
allow any limitation to _almighty power_, even in "the nature of
things."
But it can be clearly shown that every person who maintains that there
is a Creator who is "perfect" in wisdom and benevolence, does, by this
assertion, maintain that very limitation to which the objection is made.
This is shown by means of accurate definitions.
Thus "_perfect wisdom_ is that which adapts the _best possible_ means to
the _best possible_ ends."
"_Perfect benevolence_ is that which produces the _greatest possible
good_ with the _least possible_ evil."
That is to say, a Creator who is perfect in wisdom and goodness has done
the best that possibly can be done for the great universe of mind in all
its infinite and eternal relations. This being so, certainly "_He has no
power to do better_."
The only way this is evaded is by using different words that mean the
same thing, and then refusing to define these words, or to accept exact
definitions of them from others.
The infidel, who allows a God of perfect goodness and wisdom, and the
strict Calvinist, who is shocked at hearing that God "_has no power_" to
make a better system, or one that has less of evil, say the very same
thing themselves, only in more vague and misty modes of expression.
They, therefore, are precluded from objecting to positions that involve
such a limitation, when it is the very one which they themselves assume.
To affirm that almighty power can make black white and yet black at the
same time, or a straight line crooked and still straight, even the
strictest upholders of the extent of almighty power would hesitate to
affirm, because they are contradictions and absurdities. But they teach
equal contradictions who claim that a mind can be _created_ with
knowledge, habits, and experience, when it has had neither instruction,
training, or experience.
Instead of claiming these absurdities as included in our ideas of this
attribute of Deity, we are rather to assume that by almighty power is
signified "a power to do all things _except contradictions and
absurdities_."
Thus has been presented what is claimed as the evidence in the Bible in
favor of a depraved mental constitution in the human race, and it is
maintained that it amounts to _nothing at all_.
This being so, then we appeal to the principle of reason and common
sense (p. 25), "that _nothing is to be assumed as true unless there is
some evidence that it is so_."
Moreover, in Chapters xxii. and xxiii. is exhibited the evidence of
reason and experience that the human mind is perfectly organized, and
thus the highest evidence of its Maker's wisdom and benevolence.
So we can again appeal to another principle of reason, that "_we are to
consider that right which has the balance of evidence in its favor_." If
there is no evidence to prove the mind of man depraved in organization,
and all the evidence of reason and experience is in favor of its perfect
organization, is it not to be assumed that it is thus perfect?
To this might be added the teachings of the Bible in the same direction.
But this is deferred to the future volume. In the present illustrative
example, the aim is simply to exhibit the fallacy of _one_ of the
theological theories that has been incorporated as a part of the
teachings of the Bible, thus lessening the respect and confidence
accorded to it, and impeding the true religious development of our race.
How it has happened that a dogma, which is so contrary to the moral
feelings and the common sense of man, and, at the same time, unsupported
by revelation, should have become so incorporated with the teachings of
the Christian Church, will be set forth in the next article.
_History of the Dogma._
The history of the dogma of the depraved constitution of the human mind
imparted directly or indirectly by the creative agency of its Maker has
become a matter of profound interest.
So far as appears, _theories_ on the _philosophy_ of religion did not
agitate the apostolic age. Christianity first spread among the humbler
classes. They felt that they were sinful and miserable in the present
life, and looked with dread and dismay to the dark passage of the grave
and the destinies to follow. They were taught to "believe on the Lord
Jesus Christ," and that thus they would become good and happy now and
forever. This they understood to mean, not a mere intellectual
conviction, but a _practical faith_, in which Christ was received as
their supreme Lord and teacher _by conforming their feelings and conduct
to his teachings_.
But, after a while, the philosophers and rulers became Christians, and
then commenced the two grand evils: first, the _theories of philosophy_,
and, next, the _enforcing of these theories by pains and penalties_.
About A.D. 400 commenced the discussion of the theory under
consideration. _Pelagius_, a learned and devout man of Great Britain,
aided by his friend Celcius, promulgated the common-sense views on the
nature of mind derived from reason and experience, mainly as set forth
in this volume, and claimed that these views were sustained by the
teachings of the Old and New Testament. He and his friend traveled and
disseminated these views in Great Britain, France, Africa, Italy, and
Palestine, over which Christianity to a great extent prevailed. The
celebrated Augustine, a man of great goodness, talents, and learning,
became their leading antagonist. He set forth the philosophical theories
afterward adopted and taught by Calvin in the form which is now
denominated _the system of High Calvinism_.
This system starts with the assumption (without proof) that the Creator
_could_ form mind on a more perfect model than that of our race, and
that he _proved_ it by forming the minds of angels and of our first
parents on this pattern. But, as a penalty for one act of disobedience
by them, first their own mental constitution was vitiated. Next, in the
language of standard Calvinists, "Such as man was _after_ the fall, such
children did he beget; corruption, by the righteous judgment of God,
being derived from Adam to his posterity, not by imitation, but by the
propagation of a vicious nature. Wherefore all men are conceived in sin,
and are born children of wrath; unfit for every good connected with
salvation; prone to evil, dead in sins, and, without the Holy Spirit
regenerating them, they neither _will_ nor _can_ return to God, amend
their depraved nature, nor _dispose themselves for its amendment_."
Men being thus terribly incapacitated for right action, so that they
have no power "to amend their depraved nature," nor even "to dispose
themselves for its amendment," the whole race became liable not only to
the pains and penalties of sin through this life, but to _eternal_ and
hopeless misery beyond the grave. Nor could any one of the race do a
single thing to escape this doom, or to induce the Author of their Being
to pity or help them. Instead of this, a certain portion of the race
were "elected" by God to be restored to the state from which their first
parents fell by "the Holy Spirit regenerating them," while all the rest
were left to eternal torments, "to illustrate God's justice and hatred
of sin!" Moreover, whoever was thus elected was sure to "persevere."
These tenets are usually called the "five points of Calvinism," viz.,
_original sin_, _total depravity_, _election_, _regeneration_, and
_saints' perseverance_.
Pelagius denied that there was any difference between the mental
constitution of Adam and his descendants, or any other connection
between his and their sins than always exists between the sins of
children and those of their parents. Of course, the vitiated nature
imparted directly or indirectly by God, and the tenets based on it, were
denied by him.
At this period all matters of doctrine were settled by ecclesiastical
councils. The first council on this matter was in Africa, and, led by
Augustine, they condemned the views of Pelagius. The two next councils
were in Palestine, and both sustained his teachings. Next, in Italy, the
Pope, then at the early period of pontifical power, first sustained
Pelagius, but finally, by the exertions of Augustine and his party, was
led to condemn him with the greatest severity. Finally, the emperors
were enlisted against him with their civil pains and penalties. The
result was, Pelagius and his followers suffered the perils and miseries
of civil and ecclesiastical persecution. "And thus," says the historian,
"the Gauls, Britons, and Africans by their councils, and the emperors by
their edicts, demolished this sect in its infancy, and suppressed it
entirely."
It is very probable that, if Pelagius had had the power and adroitness
of Augustine, the edicts of emperors and decrees of councils would have
maintained _his_ views, and those of Augustine would have gone into
obscurity. But ever since that day the organized power of the Latin,
Greek, and Protestant churches have been arrayed to sustain the theories
thus inaugurated.
But the common sense and the moral nature of man have maintained a
feeble but ceaseless warfare against the tenets of the Augustinian and
Calvinistic creed, while now this "conflict of ages" is invigorated by
the intervention of a new power. The authority of councils, popes, and
emperors is on the wane, while _the people_ are fast advancing to that
position of umpires in the moral and religious world which they have
gained in the political.
In this long and unequal struggle, the principal actors since the days
of Pelagius have been, in the first place, _Arminius_ at the time of the
Reformation. While maintaining the foundation dogma of a depraved mental
constitution consequent upon Adam's sin, he strove to give some slight
feature of humanity and tenderness to the consequent system by
maintaining that there was _some_ way in which man, in spite of his
ruined nature, could attain some right feeling and action acceptable to
his Creator, and tending in some degree to remedy the dreadful calamity
inflicted on the race.
The historian thus narrates:
"After the appointment of Arminius to the theological chair at Leyden
(University), he thought it his duty to avow and vindicate the
principles which he had embraced, and the freedom with which he
published and defended them exposed him to the resentment of those that
adhered to the theological system of Geneva (Calvinistic), which
prevailed in Holland. The Arminian doctrines gained ground under the
mild and favorable treatment of the magistrates of Holland, and were
adopted by several persons of merit and distinction. The Calvinists
appealed to a _national synod_. Accordingly, the Synod of Dort was
convened (by the States-General), and was composed of ecclesiastical
deputies from the United Provinces, as well as from the Reformed
churches of England, Hessia, Bremen, Switzerland, and the Palatinate.
"It was first proposed to discuss the principal subjects in dispute, and
that the Arminians should be allowed to state and vindicate the grounds
on which their opinions were founded.
"But some difference arising as to the proper course of conducting the
debate, _the Arminians were excluded from the assembly, their case was
tried in their absence, and they were pronounced guilty of pestilential
errors, and condemned as corrupters of the true religion_!
"In consequence of this decision, the Arminians were considered as
enemies to their country and its established religion, and were much
persecuted. They were treated with great severity, deprived of all their
posts and employments, their ministers silenced, and their congregations
suppressed. The great Barnevelt was beheaded, and the learned Grotius
fled and took refuge in France."
Thus it is seen that, while Pelagius and his followers were wasted by
persecution in the commencement of the Calvinistic system under
Augustine, the attempt to soften its hard features by Arminius was put
down by the same method.
But, in spite of all such opposition, Arminianism gained ground, and the
Arminian and Calvinistic systems have existed side by side in most
Protestant communions. In the Church of England, and formerly in the
Methodist churches, these two parties have existed. So in the
Presbyterian, Congregational, and Baptist churches, there has always
been a division in reference to the tenets of Calvinism, some holding
them strictly according to Augustine and Calvin, and others more or less
modifying their sterner features by various theories and expositions.
The main point of difference between these two classes is in reference
to that most disheartening and deplorable tenet of men's entire
inability to "amend their depraved nature," or even to "dispose
themselves for its amendment." The strict Calvinist maintains that the
mind of man is so entirely ruined in its nature that no one but the
Author of mind can rectify it, while he can in no way be moved to this
act of mercy (justice?) by any thing the _unrenewed_ creature can do.
The Arminian sects hold that, though the "natural man" is utterly
incapable of any acceptable moral action in himself, yet, through the
atonement of Jesus Christ, he is endowed with "a gracious supernatural
ability," by which he can accept the offers of salvation. This, it is
supposed, is a statement that most Arminians would accept as expressing
their views.
In our own country, the earliest leader of an attempt to modify the
Calvinistic system was the celebrated metaphysician, Jonathan Edwards.
While maintaining, as did Arminius, the foundation theory of an utterly
depraved mental constitution of the race as a penalty for the first act
of disobedience, he first labored to prove this penalty to be _just_,
inasmuch as in some mysterious way the whole race existed in Adam, and
sinned just as he did, thus becoming the authors of their own mental
ruin and incapacity.
And inasmuch as our moral nature revolts from the infliction of
penalties for not doing what there is _no power_ to do, he originated a
metaphysical theory to this effect: that, in spite of the injury
resulting from this first sin of the whole race, there is full power and
obligation in every human being to obey all that the laws of God
demanded, but that man is _unwilling_ instead of _unable_. This
_unwillingness_ is the result of that first sin of the race; and so
great is its pertinacity, that no man ever did or ever will feel or act
right in a single case, from the beginning to the end of life, until
"regenerated by the Holy Spirit." Neither will they do any thing "to
amend their depraved nature," or to "dispose themselves to its
amendment;" nor will any man, before "regeneration by the Holy Spirit,"
do a single thing that has even any _tendency_ to gain this Divine aid,
but it is all dependent on "sovereign, unconditional election." Still
worse, the more efforts an unrenewed man makes to love and obey God, the
more wicked he grows, because he is _voluntarily_ resisting increased
light and obligation in refusing to regenerate himself, which, on this
theory, he had full power to do.
As it respects God, this theory, indeed, relieves his character very
essentially; but as to affording any comfort to man, it only adds a new
thorn to wound sensitive consciences. For no man could possibly help
feeling that when, according to High Calvinism, he had _no power at all_
to do right, he was relieved from some portion of obligation, even if,
six thousand years ago, he did join Adam in that sinful repast. But
President Edwards and his followers took away this small alleviation,
and put the whole blame entirely on the depraved and guilty creature,
both for the ruin of the fall and the refusal to remedy the evil.
This attempt to prove that _God does not require men to perform what
they have no power to do_, has been regarded as a most terrific heresy
by the strict Calvinist, while for nearly a hundred years New England
and the whole Presbyterian Church have been agitated by it. Again and
again, some of the wisest and best of their clergy have been arraigned
for this heresy, with the threatened or inflicted penalty of loss of
character, profession, and daily bread for themselves and their
families. Three times the author has seen a revered parent thus
arraigned. And in these ecclesiastical trials, she has herself heard
otherwise sensible persons maintaining that men were required by their
Maker to do what they had no power of _any_ kind to do, under the
penalty of eternal damnation, and that it was a dangerous heresy to
maintain that God did not thus require it.
Another attempt to modify the Augustinian dogma is found in the work
entitled "The Conflict of Ages," by the Rev. Edward Beecher. The theory
there presented was first started by the great and learned Origen in the
third century, and has been advocated by individuals ever since. It
assumes the entire and fatal depravity of the mental organization, but
relieves the Creator of all blame by assuming that every human mind was
created with a perfect mental organization, and placed in the most
favorable circumstances possible in a _pre-existent state_; and yet the
same sad results then occurred as our race are approaching, viz., the
existence of two classes of minds, the holy and the sinful. Meantime
this world was prepared as a merciful arrangement to afford a _second_
probation to those who ruined themselves in the pre-existent state.
This theory entirely relieves the Creator of all blame, but gives no
other help or comfort to the miserable race of man. It certainly _is_ a
comfort to feel that our Maker is not a being who ruins his creatures in
the very process of creation, and then exposes them to eternal, hopeless
misery as the consequence of it. But whoever believes this pre-existent
theory takes the load of a guilty conscience for all he considers as
wrong in his own mental constitution, and for all the dreadful
consequences.
These several theories all were originated to escape from the inevitable
deduction of reason, that _God, as the author of a depraved constitution
of mind, is himself depraved_.
And yet neither of them avails but one of the two _pre-existent
theories_, that makes man himself the author of this ruin of his own
mind, either _in_ Adam or _before_ Adam, while neither of these is
supported either by reason or revelation.
Moreover, neither of these theories _could_ be established by revelation
for want of means to prove a revelation to beings who find themselves
endowed with _miscreated_ minds, as has been shown on pages 287 and 288
of this volume.
Another effort to change the hard features of Calvinism was by the New
Haven school of theologians. These gentlemen maintained that _a holy
nature_ and _a sinful nature_ were not what _could be_ created, inasmuch
as all sin implies a knowledge of what a morally right choice is and
power to make such a choice, while it consists not at all in a wrong
_nature_ or _constitution_, but solely in _wrong voluntary action_.
This is precisely what, as the author supposes, was the doctrine of
Pelagius in opposition to that of Augustine, and for the propagation of
which, popes, emperors, and councils drove Pelagius and his followers
from their churches.
A similar penalty seemed for a while to await the New Haven innovators;
for, as professors in a theological seminary connected with the most
influential university in the nation, their doctrine on this subject
occasioned a controversy that agitated all the New England as well as
the Presbyterian churches.
At the same time, an earnest controversy was in progress with the
Unitarian sect, which had adopted this tenet of Pelagius as a part of
their creed. Of course, the charge, both of Pelagianism and
Unitarianism, was rife all over the land against these innovators on the
established creed of the churches.
To meet this, these gentlemen maintained that they had not essentially
departed from the system of New England divinity as exhibited in the
writings of President Edwards. Thus they had two labors to perform--the
one to maintain the doctrine that sin consisted solely in wrong _action_
and not at all in _nature_, and the other to show that in this they did
not differ from Edwards.
In attempting the first, at one time and another, they have maintained
that mankind _since the fall_ are as truly created in God's image as
Adam was; that the nature of man is still like the nature of God; that a
corrupt, depraved, or unholy nature can not be affirmed of the human
mind in any proper use of these terms.
The inquiry, then, must arise, in many minds that are familiar with the
writings of President Edwards, how it is possible that men so
intelligent and so honest should maintain that on this subject they had
not departed from the system of New England divinity as exhibited by
Edwards.
To the author this enigma is solved by the character of Edwards's
writings, which, like those of many other metaphysicians who hold
theories contrary to common sense, are _contradictory and inconsistent_.
Thus it is seen that one class of very acute minds find in Edwards's
_Treatise on the Will_ the most complete exposition and defense of
_fatalism_, and thus the author regards it. Another class, equally
acute, claim this same essay as a full exposition and defense of the
contrary doctrine of _free agency_.
The Augustinian theory of a totally depraved mind, transmitted through
the Catholic Church to its reformed offsets, was received by Edwards. He
perceived that if God was the cause of this depravity, he is the author
of sin, and so he labored to prove that all mankind "sinned in Adam and
fell with him," and thus caused their own depravity.
He perceived, too, that requiring men to originate holy acts with a
totally depraved nature seemed to demand what they had no power to
perform, and thus made God unjust. So he brought forth his _Treatise on
the Will_ to prove that man had a _natural ability_ to obey God, and a
_moral inability_; and so at once he established _fatalism_ to one class
of minds, and _free agency_ to another.
Thus it is that the New Haven divines find language in Edwards that
sustains their views, while their antagonists find as much, or more,
that condemns them.
The ancient followers of Pelagius, the modern Unitarians, and the
leaders of the New Haven school of divines, all hold exactly the
position set forth in this work of the _perfect organization_ of the
human mind, while the only depravity maintained by them is that of
_voluntary action_. At the same time, it is believed that but a very
small portion of the younger clergy of _any_ theological school in New
England, or in a large portion of the Presbyterian churches, would
openly avow a belief in the depraved mental constitution of man as
created by God, either directly at or near birth, or indirectly by
hereditary transmission.
It is interesting, yet sad, to trace the dominant influence of the
Augustinian theory of a depraved mental constitution in originating most
of the leading sects of the present Christian world.
Man being assumed to be thus miserably miscreated, and his sole hope
being the gift of the Holy Ghost to recreate, the priesthood soon
claimed to be the only medium through which this gift could pass; and
having the eternal life and death of the soul in their hands, they
speedily thus gained that domestic, civil, and religious power which
made the papal hierarchy the most tremendous tyranny that earth ever
witnessed.
The question of the transmission of this power through properly ordained
persons was the chief feature of the Episcopal organization.
Most of the other large sects in this country are descended from the
Puritans, who, as it appears, were the first to institute "a church" as
consisting solely of persons who "profess" to be "regenerated" on the
theory of the renewal of a misformed or depraved mind.
The Greek, Roman, Episcopal, Scotch, and European Protestants recognize
no such organization, all being born into the Church; and this seems to
have been the case in the first churches of the New Testament, where
parents and _their families_, and all who joined their communities, were
considered as constituting the Christian Church, whether "regenerated"
or not.[4] So, in the Jewish Church, all who submitted to the initiatory
rite were members, without respect to religious attainments in
character. This new principle of organization, originating with the
Puritans, is retained among most sects in this nation, and is the
foundation of their separate organizations.
Thus the Baptists are separated on the question of the mode of
administering the _rite of admission_ to this Church.
The Presbyterians and Congregationalists separate on the question of
_appointing the officers_ of this organization.
The Methodists are an offset from the Episcopal Church, with reference
chiefly to modes of bringing men into their Church.
All agree that it is "regenerate persons" alone who are fully members of
this organization.
There are diversities of opinion as to the relation of baptized children
to this body, but none allow them to be admitted to its distinctive
ordinance except they profess to be "regenerated."
It is a matter for interesting conjecture as to the probable results on
Christendom had the theory of Pelagius been established by pope,
emperor, and councils instead of that of Augustine.
In that case we may suppose that the efforts and energies of the
churches, instead of to these rites and forms, would have been mainly
directed to the _right training_ of the human mind in obedience to all
the physical, domestic, social, and moral laws of the Creator.
Instead of instituting two standards of right and wrong, the "common"
and the "evangelical," as is now so generally done, children would have
been taught that all that was just, honorable, benevolent, and lovely in
their feelings and conduct was as acceptable and right to God as it is
to men. Their parents, instead of that sense of helpless inability
resulting from the belief that their little ones could feel and do
nothing but sin until new mental powers were given, and that the gift
was bestowed by the rule of sovereign "election," would have felt that
every successful effort to cultivate all lovely and right habits and
feelings was advancing their offspring nearer to God and their heavenly
home, and that, when their wisdom failed, the promise of "the Comforter"
was given to encourage them in this great work.
Thus they would expect their children to become "new creatures in Christ
Jesus" by the combined influence of the heavenly and earthly parents
gradually transforming their ignorance and selfishness to knowledge and
benevolence.
That the theory of Augustine, originally established in the Christian
churches by pains and penalties, is still sustained there by such
influences, is apparent from these facts.
Although there is a large amount of real virtue and piety that is not
within the pale of any sectarian organization, yet the vast majority of
conscientious persons are either enrolled in _the Church_, or intimately
connected with it in principle and feeling. All this intellectual and
moral power is organized into various denominations, each controlled and
led by a number of highly-educated, conscientious, and religious men.
With these denominations are connected high positions in the pulpit,
with great influence and liberal salaries; literary institutions, with
posts of honor and competency; and theological seminaries that are the
central ecclesiastical mainsprings of influence.
Then there are connected with each denomination large voluntary
associations for benevolent purposes, with officers who control large
pecuniary means. Finally, each sect has its quarterlies, monthlies, and
its religious newspapers, whose editors are speaking every day to the
minds of thousands and hundreds of thousands.
Now it is a fact that this vast array of wealth, position, influence,
and ecclesiastical power is actually combined to sustain these
theological theories. So much is this the case, that a minister,
theological professor, president of a college, secretary of a benevolent
society, or editor of a periodical or newspaper, could not openly deny
this Augustinian tenet but under penalty of the loss of reputation,
position, influence, and the income that sustains himself and family.
Our largest and best theological seminaries demand an avowal of belief
in this dogma as a condition of holding any professorship, and in some
of them it must be renewed by all the professors every few years.
At the same time, this dogma of a depraved mental constitution
transmitted from Adam is inwrought into all the standard works of
theology, the sermons, the prayers, the sacred poetry, the popular
literature, and even the Sunday-school and family literature of
childhood.
The power of such influences is intensified by the present stringency of
sectarian organization. By those who have marked the tendencies of the
religious world, it will be remembered that, at the time the
associations for religious benevolence began their great work, all sects
seemed to be harmonizing and uniting in the efforts to send Bibles,
tracts, and missionaries to the destitute. At this period, the questions
that separated Christians in reference to modes of ordination, baptism,
and church officers, seemed to disappear as matters of small moment
among all whose great aim was to save the lost of every name and nation.
But, while this served to liberalize the feelings and opinions of good
men in all sects, it soon became apparent to the leaders that, if these
tendencies were not counteracted, the sects would all come together.
If this should happen, where would be all the great machinery that was
supported by these several denominations for their distinctive aims?
Soon the tide turned, and, though now there is less sectarian
bitterness, and most sects can allow each other to be Christians with
different names and badges, yet each is active for its own separate
interests more decidedly than ever. And now the _leading_ concern of
each denomination seems to be, to increase its own separate churches,
schools, colleges, theological seminaries, religious periodicals, and
benevolent associations, not because the salvation of the lost depends
on these distinctive matters, but chiefly as modes of increasing the
_extent_, _respectability_, and _influence_ of their sect. In order to
do this, the importance of the points which divide each from the other
must be magnified; for if there is but a trifling difference between an
Old School and New School Church, or a Baptist, Congregational, or a
Presbyterian, then, in small places, and especially in our new
settlements, all these would unite in one large, harmonious church, that
could properly support all its own ordinances, and send of its surplus
to supply the destitute. On the contrary, if these differences are
magnified, there will be two, three, or four small churches, all
contending with each other, poorly supporting their own ordinances, and,
instead of helping the destitute, sending to other churches of their own
sect for help.