The great lesson, then, taught by the text and its unfolding, is _the

importance of attaining self-knowledge here upon earth, and while there

remaineth a sacrifice for sins_. The duty and wisdom of every man is, to

anticipate the revelations of the judgment day; to find out the sin of

his soul, while it is an accepted time and a day of salvation. For we

have seen that this self-inspection cannot ultimately be escaped. Man was

made to know himself, and he must sooner or later come to it.

Self-knowledge is as certain, in the end, as death. The utmost that can

be done, is to postpone it for a few days, or years. The article of death

and the exchange of worlds will pour it all in, like a deluge, upon every

man, whether he will or not. And he who does not wake up to a knowledge

of his heart, until he enters eternity, wakes up not to pardon but to

despair.

The simple question, then, which, meets us is: Wilt thou know thyself

_here_ and _now_, that thou mayest accept and feel God's pity in Christ's

blood, or wilt thou keep within the screen, and not know thyself until

beyond the grave, and then feel God's judicial wrath? The self-knowledge,

remember, must come in the one way or the other. It is a simple question

of time; a simple question whether it shall come here in this world,

where the blood of Christ "freely flows," or in the future world, where

"there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin." Turn the matter as we will,

this is the sum and substance,--a sinful man must either come to a

thorough self-knowledge, with a hearty repentance and a joyful pardon, in

this life; or he must come to a thorough, self-knowledge, with a total

despair and an eternal damnation, in the other. God is not mocked. God's

great pity in the blood of Christ must not be trifled with. He who

refuses, or neglects, to institute that self-examination which leads to

the sense of sin, and the felt need of Christ's work, by this very fact

proves that he does not desire to know his own heart, and that he has no

wish to repent of sin. But he who will not even look at his sin,--what

does not he deserve from that Being who poured out His own blood for it?

He who refuses even to open his eyes upon that bleeding Lamb of

God,--what must not he expect from the Lion of the tribe of Judah, in the

day of judgment? He who by a life of apathy, and indifference to sin,

puts himself out of all relations to the Divine pity,--what must he

experience in eternity, but the operations of stark, unmitigated law?

Find out your sin, then. God will forgive all that is found. Though your

sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow. The great God

delights to forgive, and is waiting to forgive. But, _sin must be seen by

the sinner, before it can be pardoned by the Judge_. If you refuse at

this point; if you hide yourself from yourself; if you preclude all

feeling and conviction upon the subject of sin, by remaining ignorant of

it; if you continue to live an easy, thoughtless life in sin, then you

_cannot_ be forgiven, and the measure of God's love with which He would

have blessed you, had you searched yourself and repented, will be the

measure of God's righteous wrath with which He will search you, and

condemn you, because you have not.

[Footnote 1: "It is easy,"--says one of the keenest and most incisive of

theologians,--"for any one in the cloisters of the schools to indulge

himself in idle speculations on the merit of works to justify men; but

when he comes _into the presence of God_, he must bid farewell to these

amusements, for there the business is transacted with seriousness. To

this point must our attention be directed, if we wish to make any useful

inquiry concerning true righteousness: How we can answer the _celestial

Judge_ when He shall call us to an account? Let us place that Judge

before our eyes, not according to the inadequate imaginations of our

minds, but according to the descriptions given of him in the Scriptures,

which represent him as one whose refulgence eclipses the stars, whose

purity makes all things appear polluted, and who searches the inmost soul

of his creatures,--let us so conceive of the Judge of all the earth, and

every one must present himself as a criminal before Him, and voluntarily

prostrate and humble himself in deep solicitude concerning; his

absolution." CALVIN: Institutes, iii. 12.]

ALL MANKIND GUILTY; OR, EVERY MAN KNOWS MORE THAN HE PRACTISES.

ROMANS i. 24.--"When they knew God, they glorified him not as God."

The idea of God is the most important and comprehensive of all the ideas

of which the human mind is possessed. It is the foundation of religion;

of all right doctrine, and all right conduct. A correct intuition of it

leads to correct religious theories and practice; while any erroneous or

defective view of the Supreme Being will pervade the whole province of

religion, and exert a most pernicious influence upon the entire character

and conduct of men.

In proof of this, we have only to turn to the opening chapters of St.

Paul's Epistle to the Romans. Here we find a profound and accurate

account of the process by which human nature becomes corrupt, and runs

its downward career of unbelief, vice, and sensuality. The apostle traces

back the horrible depravity of the heathen world, which he depicts with a

pen as sharp as that of Juvenal, but with none of Juvenal's bitterness

and vitriolic sarcasm, to a distorted and false conception of the being

and attributes of God. He does not, for an instant, concede that this

distorted and false conception is founded in the original structure and

constitution of the human soul, and that this moral ignorance is

necessary and inevitable. This mutilated idea of the Supreme Being was

not inlaid in the rational creature on the morning of creation, when God

said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness." On the

contrary, the apostle affirms that the Creator originally gave all

mankind, in the moral constitution of a rational soul and in the works of

creation and providence, the media to a correct idea of Himself, and

asserts, by implication, that if they had always employed these media

they would have always possessed this idea. "The wrath of God," he says,

"is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of

men who hold the truth in unrighteousness; _because_ that which may be

known of God is manifest in them, for God hath shewed it unto them. _For_

the invisible things of him, even his eternal power and Godhead, are

clearly seen from the creation of the world, being understood by the

things that are made, so that they are without excuse; _because_ that

when they _knew_ God, they glorified him not as God" (Rom. i. 18-21).

From this, it appears that the mind of man has not kept what was

committed to its charge. It has not employed the moral instrumentalities,

nor elicited the moral ideas, with which it has been furnished. And,

notice that the apostle does not confine this statement to those who live

within the pale of Revelation. His description is unlimited and

universal. The affirmation of the text, that "when man knew God he

glorified him not as God," applies to the Gentile as well as to the Jew.

Nay, the primary reference of these statements was to the pagan world. It

was respecting the millions of idolaters in cultivated Greece and Rome,

and the millions of idolaters in barbarous India and China,--it was

respecting the whole world lying in wickedness, that St. Paul remarked:

"The invisible things of God, even his eternal power and Godhead, are

clearly seen from the creation of the world down to the present moment,

being understood by the things that are made; _so that they are without

excuse_."

When Napoleon was returning from his campaign in Egypt and Syria, he was

seated one night upon the deck of the vessel, under the open canopy of

the heavens, surrounded by his captains and generals. The conversation

had taken a skeptical direction, and most of the party had combated the

doctrine of the Divine existence. Napoleon had sat silent and musing,

apparently taking no interest in the discussion, when suddenly raising

his hand, and pointing at the crystalline firmament crowded with its

mildly shining planets and its keen glittering stars, he broke out, in

those startling tones that so often electrified a million of men:

"Gentlemen, who made all that?" The eternal power and Godhead of the

Creator are impressed by the things that are made, and these words of

Napoleon to his atheistic captains silenced them. And the same impression

is made the world over. Go to-day into the heart of Africa, or into the

centre of New Holland; select the most imbruted pagan that can be found;

take him out under a clear star-lit heaven and ask him who made all that,

and the idea of a Superior Being,--superior to all his fetishes and

idols,--possessing eternal power and supremacy ([Greek: theotaes])

immediately emerges in his consciousness. The instant the missionary

takes this lustful idolater away from the circle of his idols, and brings

him face to face with the heavens and the earth, as Napoleon brought his

captains, the constitutional idea dawns again, and the pagan trembles

before the unseen Power.[1]

But it will be objected that it is a very dim, and inadequate idea of the

Deity that thus rises in the pagan's mind, and that therefore the

apostle's affirmation that he is "without excuse" for being an idolater

and a sensualist requires some qualification. This imbruted creature,

says the objector, does not possess the metaphysical conception of God as

a Spirit, and of all his various attributes and qualities, like the

dweller in Christendom. How then can he be brought in guilty before the

same eternal bar, and be condemned to the same eternal punishment, with

the nominal Christian? The answer is plain, and decisive, and derivable

out of the apostle's own statements. In order to establish the guiltiness

of a rational creature before the bar of justice, it is not necessary to

show that he has lived in the seventh heavens, and under a blaze of moral

intelligence like that of the archangel Gabriel. It is only necessary to

show that he has enjoyed _some_ degree of moral light, and that he _has

not lived up to it_. Any creature who knows more than he practises is a

guilty creature. If the light in the pagan's intellect concerning God and

the moral law, small though it be, is yet actually in advance of the

inclination and affections of his heart and the actions of his life, he

deserves to be punished, like any and every other creature, under the

Divine government, of whom the same thing is true. Grades of knowledge

vary indefinitely. No two men upon the planet, no two men in Christendom,

possess precisely the same degree of moral intelligence. There are men

walking the streets of this city to-day, under the full light of the

Christian revelation, whose notions respecting God and law are

exceedingly dim and inadequate; and there are others whose views are

clear and correct in a high degree. But there is not a person in this

city, young or old, rich or poor, ignorant or cultivated, in the purlieus

of vice or the saloons of wealth, whose knowledge of God is not in

advance of his own character and conduct. Every man, whatever be the

grade of his intelligence, knows more than he puts in practice. Ask the

young thief, in the subterranean haunts of vice and crime, if he does not

know that it is wicked to steal, and if he renders an honest answer, it

is in the affirmative. Ask the most besotted soul, immersed and

petrified in sensuality, if his course of life upon earth has been in

accordance with his own knowledge and conviction of what is right, and

required by his Maker, and he will answer No, if he answers truly. The

grade of knowledge in the Christian land is almost infinitely various;

but in every instance the amount of knowledge is greater than the amount

of virtue. Whether he knows little or much, the man knows more than he

performs; and _therefore_ his mouth must be stopped in the judgment, and

he must plead guilty before God. He will not be condemned for not

possessing that ethereal vision of God possessed by the seraphim; but he

will be condemned because his perception of the holiness and the holy

requirements of God was sufficient, at any moment, to rebuke his

disregard of them; because when he knew God in some degree, he glorified

him not as God up to that degree.

And this principle will be applied to the pagan world. It is so applied

by the apostle Paul. He himself concedes that the Gentile has not enjoyed

all the advantages of the Jew, and argues that the ungodly Jew will be

visited with a more severe punishment than the ungodly Gentile. But he

expressly affirms that the pagan is _under law_, and _knows_ that he is;

that he shows the work of the law that is written on the heart, in the

operations of an accusing and condemning conscience. But the knowledge of

law involves the knowledge of _God_ in an equal degree. Who can feel

himself amenable to a moral law, without at the same time thinking of its

Author? The law and the Lawgiver are inseparable. The one is the mirror

and index of the other. If the eye opens dimly upon the commandment, it

opens dimly upon the Sovereign; if it perceives eternal right and law

with clear and celestial vision, it then looks directly into the face of

God. Law and God are correlative to each other; and just so far,

consequently, as the heathen understands the law that is written on the

heart does he apprehend the Being who sitteth upon the circle of the

heavens, and who impinges Himself upon the consciousness of men. This

being so, it is plain that we can confront the ungodly pagan with the

same statements with which we confront the ungodly nominal Christian. We

can tell him with positiveness, wherever we find him, be it upon the

burning sands of Africa or in the frozen home of the Esquimaux, that he

knows more than he puts in practice. We will concede to him that the

quantum of his moral knowledge is very stinted and meagre; but in the

same breath we will remind him that small as it is, he has not lived up

to it; that he too has "come short"; that he too, knowing God in the

dimmest, faintest degree, has yet not glorified him as God in the

slightest, faintest manner. The Bible sends the ungodly and licentious

pagan to hell, upon the same principle that it sends the ungodly and

licentious nominal Christian. It is the principle enunciated by our Lord

Christ, the judge of quick and dead, when he says, "He who knew his

master's will [clearly], and did it not, shall be beaten with many

stripes; and he who knew not his master's will [clearly, but knew it

dimly,] and did it not, shall be beaten with few stripes." It is the

just principle enunciated by St. Paul, that "as many as have sinned

without [written] law shall also _perish_ without [written] law."[2] And

this is right and righteous; and let all the universe say, Amen.

The doctrine taught in the text, that no human creature, in any country

or grade of civilization, has ever glorified God to the extent of his

knowledge of God, is very fertile in solemn and startling inferences, to

some of which we now invite attention.

1. In the first place, it follows from this affirmation of the apostle

Paul, that _the entire heathen world is in a state of condemnation and

perdition_. He himself draws this inference, in saying that in the

judgment "_every_ mouth must be stopped, and the _whole_ world become

guilty before God."

The present and future condition of the heathen world is a subject that

has always enlisted the interest of two very different classes of men.

The Church of God has pondered, and labored, and prayed over this

subject, and will continue to do so until the millennium. And the

disbeliever in Revelation has also turned his mind to the consideration

of this black mass of ignorance and misery, which welters upon the globe

like a chaotic ocean; these teeming millions of barbarians and savages

who render the aspect of the world so sad and so dark. The Church, we

need not say, have accepted the Biblical theory, and have traced the lost

condition of the pagan world, as the apostle Paul does, to their sin and

transgression. They have held that every pagan is a rational being, and

by virtue of this fact has known something of the moral law; and that to

the extent of the knowledge he has had, he is as guilty for the

transgression of law, and as really under its condemnation, as the

dweller under the light of revelation and civilization. They have

maintained that every human creature has enjoyed sufficient light, in the

workings of natural reason and conscience, and in the impressions that

are made by the glory and the terror of the natural world above and

around him, to render him guilty before the Everlasting Judge. For this

reason, the Church has denied that the pagan is an innocent creature, or

that he can stand in the judgment before the Searcher of hearts. For this

reason, the Church has believed the declaration of the apostle John, that

"the _whole_ world lieth in wickedness" (1 John v. 19), and has

endeavored to obey the command of Him who came to redeem pagans as much

as nominal Christians, to go and preach the gospel to _every_ creature,

because every creature is a lost creature.

But the disbeliever in Revelation adopts the theory of human innocency,

and looks upon all the wretchedness and ignorance of paganism, as he

looks upon suffering, decay, and death, in the vegetable and animal

worlds. Temporary evil is the necessary condition, he asserts, of all

finite existence; and as decay and death in the vegetable and animal

worlds only result in a more luxuriant vegetation, and an increased

multiplication of living creatures, so the evil and woe of the hundreds

of generations, and the millions of individuals, during the sixty

centuries that have elapsed since the origin of man, will all of it

minister to the ultimate and everlasting weal of the entire race. There

is no need therefore, he affirms, of endeavoring to save such feeble and

ignorant beings from judicial condemnation and eternal penalty. Such

finiteness and helplessness cannot be put into relations to such an awful

attribute as the eternal nemesis of God. Can it be,--he asks,--that the

millions upon millions that have been born, lived their brief hour,

enjoyed their little joys and suffered their sharp sorrows, and then

dropped into "the dark backward and abysm of time," have really been

_guilty_ creatures, and have gone down to an endless hell?

But what does all this reasoning and querying imply? Will the objector

really take the position and stand to it, that the pagan man is not a

rational and responsible creature? that he does not possess sufficient

knowledge of moral truth, to justify his being brought to the bar of

judgment? Will he say that the population that knew enough to build the

pyramids did not know enough to break the law of God? Will he affirm that

the civilization of Babylon and Nineveh, of Greece and Rome, did not

contain within it enough of moral intelligence to constitute a foundation

for rewards and punishments? Will he tell us that the people of Sodom and

Gomorrah stood upon the same plane with the brutes that perish, and the

trees of the field that rot and die, having no idea of God, knowing

nothing of the distinction between right and wrong, and never feeling the

pains of an accusing conscience? Will he maintain that the populations

of India, in the midst of whom one of the most subtile and ingenious

systems of pantheism has sprung up with the luxuriance and involutions of

one of their own jungles, and has enervated the whole religious sentiment

of the Hindoo race as opium has enervated their physical frame,--will he

maintain that such an untiring and persistent mental activity as this is

incapable of apprehending the first principles of ethics and natural

religion, which, in comparison with the complicated and obscure

ratiocinations of Boodhism, are clear as water, and lucid as atmospheric

air? In other connections, this theorist does not speak in this style. In

other connections, and for the purpose of exaggerating natural religion

and disparaging revealed, he enlarges upon the dignity of man, of every

man, and eulogizes the power of reason which so exalts him in the scale

of being. With Hamlet, he dilates in proud and swelling phrase: "What a

piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in

form and moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel!

in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of

animals!" It is from that very class of theorizers who deny that the

heathen are in danger of eternal perdition, and who represent the whole

missionary enterprise as a work of supererogation, that we receive the

most extravagant accounts of the natural powers and gifts of man. Now if

these powers and gifts do belong to human nature by its constitution,

they certainly lay a foundation for responsibility; and all such

theorists must either be able to show that the pagan man has made a

right use of them, and has walked according to this large amount of truth

and reason with which, according to their own statement, he is endowed,

or else they consign him, as St. Paul does, to "the wrath of God which is

revealed from heaven against all ungodliness, and unrighteousness of _men

who hold the truth in unrighteousness_." If you assert that the pagan man

has had no talents at all committed to him, and can prove your assertion,

and will stand by it, you are consistent in denying that he can be

summoned to the bar of God, and be tried for eternal life or death. But

if you concede that he has had one talent, or two talents, committed to

his charge; and still more, if you exaggerate his gifts and endow him

with five or ten talents, then it is impossible for you to save him from

the judgment to come, except you can prove a _perfect_ administration and

use of the trust.[3]

2. In the second place, it follows from the doctrine of the text, that

_the degraded and brutalized population of large cities is in a state of

condemnation and perdition_.

There are heathen near our own doors whose religious condition is as sad,

and hopeless, as that of the heathen of Patagonia or New Zealand. The

vice and crime that nestles and riots in the large cities of Christendom

has become a common theme, and has lost much of its interest for the

worldly mind by losing its novelty. The manners and way of life of the

outcast population of London and Paris have been depicted by the

novelist, and wakened a momentary emotion in the readers of fiction. But

the reality is stern and dreadful, beyond imagination or conception.

There is in the cess-pools of the great capitals of Christendom a mass of

human creatures who are born, who live, and who die, in moral

putrefaction. Their existence is a continued career of sin and woe. Body

and soul, mind and heart, are given up to earth, to sense, to corruption.

They emerge for a brief season into the light of day, run their swift and

fiery career of sin, and then disappear. Dante, in that wonderful Vision

which embodies so much of true ethics and theology, represents the

wrathful and gloomy class as sinking down under the miry waters and

continuing to breathe in a convulsive, suffocating manner, sending up

bubbles to the surface, that mark the place where they are drawing out

their lingering existence.[4] Something like this, is the wretched life

of a vicious population. As we look in upon the fermenting mass, the only

signs of life that meet our view indicate that the life is feverish,

spasmodic, and suffocating. The bubbles rising to the dark and turbid

surface reveal that it is a life in death.

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