the lecture, which, as time was failing, I passed over in the delivery.
They affect in nowise the general import or argument. I thought it
possible that one sentence in reference to Mr. Jones’s lecture would
require to be expunged; but having now read the lecture in print, I see
the sentence may stand. Mr. Jones defined with clearness and accuracy
his belief in Christ’s humanity—that Christ was really a man, “that he
had a corporeal and mental existence like our own,” “that he possessed a
body of flesh and blood, such as is common to our race,” “that in that
body dwelt a rational soul, to whose volitions it was subject,” “that he
was conceived in the womb, and born a helpless infant, and dependent on
the care of his parents through the whole of his childhood and
youth.”[158] Here, then, we have a set of qualities in the man Christ
Jesus, which from their very nature must have commenced with his earthly
life. Thus defined, the lecturer afterwards goes on to say that “though
there was nothing in his corporeal or mental powers essentially
different from other men, yet were _there certain peculiarities_
connected with his _perfect manhood_, which it is of momentous
consequence that we should know and believe.”[159] “First, he possessed
_moral perfection_.” On this all Unitarians are agreed. Secondly, the
lecturer noticed the _miraculous conception_. On this we have
differences amongst us. Now _a third_ peculiarity was also marked, which
by the order of the lecturer’s argument we are entitled to rank with the
others as belonging to the manhood of Christ. Mr. Jones is still
speaking of _the man_ Christ Jesus, and yet the _third peculiarity_ is
alleged to be _his pre-existence_. But if to have been born of a woman,
if to have had a corporeal and mental existence like our own, were
essentials of his humanity, then this is a flat contradiction; if this
attribute were meant to apply to him as God, we should have been told
so; and even then, the distinction would be wholly powerless, for no one
thinks of comparing other men with Jesus as God. Mr. Jones does not
introduce that portion of his subject until we have passed over several
pages.[160] The analogy of body and soul in man is incessantly used to
illustrate a two-fold nature in Christ. Nothing can be more fallacious.
It breaks down at every step; for if it be used to signify the possible
union of two different elements in one being, then Christ is not
two-fold but three-fold, there are in his person the divine soul and the
human soul, and in addition to all, the human body. If it be used to
signify the union of two natures in one person, the soul and body are
not two distinct natures, in the sense required, and therefore can
neither illustrate nor prove the dogmatical complexity ascribed to
Christ. Every nature that we know is composite, but it is one thing to
be compounded of various qualities, and another to be a union of
irreconcileable ones. If man had _two_ souls in one body, so perfectly
united as to make a single person, and yet that one should be ignorant
of what the other knew, then we should have an illustration that would
be correct and intelligible. Mr. Jones uses the following illustration,
to shew that we distinguish between the body and the soul when we do not
express the distinction in words. “If we say,” he observes, “that a
neighbour is sick, or in pain, or hungry, or thirsty, or in want, we
mean that his _body_ is sick, or in pain, or hungry, or thirsty, or in
want, and no one for a moment supposes that we refer to his soul. And
if, on the other hand, we say that a man is learned, or ignorant, wise
or unwise, happy or miserable, humble or proud, it is equally obvious
that we refer to the _soul_, and not to the _body_.”[161] No such
distinction is known either in grammar or philosophy, and the laws of
thought as well as those of language equally repudiate it. A man may be
healthy or sick by _means_ of the excellence or defect of his body, but
the assertion is made of the man as a _person_. He may in like manner be
wise or ignorant by _means_ of the excellence or defects of the
faculties of his soul; but again, the assertion is of _the person_. And,
indeed, if we were to speak with severe and metaphysical precision,
every instance which the preacher has adduced should be predicated of
the Soul, for so far as they are sensations, they belong properly to the
soul; and the body is but their medium or instrument. By the laws, then,
both of thought and language, whatever Christ affirms of himself, he
affirms of his _person_, be the elements what they may that enter into
its constitution. But how are we to think of the dogma for which such
hair-splitting distinctions are adduced; distinctions which, had not the
solemnity of the subject forbidden the use of ridicule, might be shown
by all forms of speech to be as incongruous as they are puerile, and as
ridiculous as they are false.
Note on John xii. See page 8.
On the supposition of our Lord’s simple humanity, this chapter exhibits
a most sublime revelation of his nature. On any other hypothesis it
loses all its moral beauty, and leaves us nothing but inconsistency. The
belief of his simple human nature gives a more sacred awe to the
circumstances in which he was placed, explains to us those struggles and
workings of his inmost soul, which were deepening the bitterness of his
hour of travail. We can then appreciate the grandeur with which, in the
spirit of duty, he arose to meet the approaching storm; and we can also
appreciate the tenderness and sensibility with which he shrunk for a
moment from the anguish that awaited him. To say that the godhead
withdrew its support from him is a solution unintelligible in any sense.
For through every moment of his existence he must have been conscious of
his proper Deity, or he was not; if he was, why tremble? if not, then
during that period his godhead was virtually extinguished, and he
remained simply man. But every utterance of his in this profound chapter
is truly human,—breathings of that nature from its inmost recesses,
strong in duty, but struggling with fear and grief.
There is no period of our Lord’s mission in which we see so profound a
solemnity around him. He had come from the quiet and hospitable home of
his friends in Bethany, had made his public and triumphant entry into
Jerusalem, but the awful close and consummation was at hand; he knew
that these hosannahs would scarcely have died on the ear, before their
change into hootings and revilings; and the hands which spread the palm
were ready to drag him to the cross. The next day was big with sorrows
and tortures. The mysteries of death and the grave were to be resolved;
and it is no dishonour to our Lord to suppose such a prospect should
fill his heart with trouble; for the most finely constituted nature is
ever the most sensitive, and those who perceive clearly and vividly,
apprehend circumstances which it never enters into coarser minds to
discern. In proportion as our personal sensations are acute, is the
victory of duty noble that overcomes them, in the same proportion also
is the strength of submission, or the beauty of patience. With these
views, we can well interpret for our consolation and example the
anguished exclamation of Christ,—“Now is my soul troubled, and what
shall I say? Father, save me from this hour; but for this cause came I
to this hour.”
If Christ were God as well as man, words like these are absolutely
unaccountable; and as we cannot be so profane as to think that Christ
spoke for mere effect, we have only to conclude that it was the fervent
and simple exclamation of a being who felt he needed help from Heaven.
This were impiety of the darkest die, if Jesus in one portion of his own
person was infinite and omnipotent.
NOTE 1, see page 18.
“Priestley, loaded with glory, was modest enough to be astonished at his
good fortune, and at the multitude of beautiful facts which nature
seemed to reveal to him alone. He forgot that her favours were not
gratuitous, and that if she had so well explained herself, it was
because he had known how to constrain her by his indefatigable
perseverance in questioning her, and by a thousand ingenious means of
wresting from her her answers. Others carefully conceal what they owe to
accident. Priestley seemed to wish to ascribe to it all his merit. He
records, with unexampled candour, how many times he had profited by it
without knowing it, how many times he was in possession of new
substances without having perceived them; and he never concealed the
erroneous views which sometimes directed his efforts, and which he
renounced only from experience. These confessions did honour to his
modesty, without disarming jealousy. Those whose views and methods had
never led them to discovery, called him a mere maker of experiments,
without method, and without an object:—“It is not astonishing,” they
added, “that among so many trials and combinations he should find some
that were successful. But real natural Philosophers were not duped by
these selfish criticisms.”—After some remarks on Priestley’s changes in
religious opinions, and tracing rapidly his progress from fiercest
Calvinism to simple humanitarianism, he thus beautifully describes the
close of his laborious life:—“His last moments were full of those
feelings of piety which animated his whole life, and the improper
controul of which had been the foundation of all his errors. He caused
the gospel to be read to him, and thanked God for having allowed him to
lead an useful life, and granted him a peaceful death. Among the list of
the principal blessings, he ranked that of having personally known
almost all his contemporaries. ‘I am going to sleep as you do,’ said he
to his grand-children, who were brought to him, ‘but we shall wake again
together, and, I hope, to eternal happiness;’ thus evincing in what
belief he died. These were his last words. Such was the end of that man,
whom his enemies accused of wishing to overthrow all morality and
religion, and yet whose greatest error was to mistake his vocation, and
to attach too much importance to his individual sentiments in matters
when the most important of all feelings ought to be the love of
peace.”[162]
The Edinburgh Review,[163] from which this extract is taken, introduces
it with the following liberal and generous remarks:—
“We cannot pass unnoticed the _Eloge_ of Dr. Priestley, which brought
his biographer into the field of theological discussion, and which
deserves to be studied in a country where the Character of that
extraordinary man, both as a Philosopher and a Christian, has been so
greatly misrepresented.”
The conclusion of the following extract is earnestly recommended to the
consideration of those pious men who have been misled by the intolerant
spirit of the day; and who, on lending their aid, without being
conscious of what they are doing, to break the cords of affection which
ought to unite the professors of our common Christianity.
NOTE 2, see page 26.
A great mass of the religious world, in the orthodox meaning of that
phrase, is now called _evangelical_, and although that term, I admit,
does not necessarily imply absolute Calvinism, yet, in point of fact,
the greater number of those whom it designates are Calvinists. The
opponents of Calvinism are often accused of misrepresenting it. For this
reason I have endeavoured here to make it speak for itself—by some of
its principal formularies, by one or two of its popular writers, and by
the author of it himself, in his own words,—Many will say _they_ hold no
such sentiments: for the sake of human nature I sincerely believe them;
if I thought such a faith (the terms being understood) could be
extensively entertained, confidence in my species would be turned into
fear. But, notwithstanding, many opinions which they do hold, logically
pursued, lead directly to the conclusions contained in the extracts, the
writers of which were perfectly consistent with their system. Numbers
who are called Calvinists, I am aware, not only do not believe its worst
doctrines, but do not understand them. In the statement, however, of
opinions, we cannot be guided by individual feelings, except in cases
where we have individual protest to the contrary. The members of the
Church of England may object to the Westminster confession of Faith, not
being a formulary of their Church: it is, however, the sworn authority
of a large body of clergy with whom, when purpose needs, they refuse not
to hold friendly communion. It is, however, an accurate digest of
Calvinism: in that relation I have used it,—to such of the English
clergy as are not Calvinists it can have no reference. I wish to quote
it as a theological, and not as an ecclesical authority. But the
seventeenth article of the English Church, though softened in
expression, is the same in sense. Burnet I know has made the
unsuccessful effort to suit it to both sides for the sake of tender
consciences; but that must be a most convenient and comprehensive
latitude of phraseology which can sound all the notes of the theological
scale, from high Calvinism down to low Arminianism. That the meaning of
the article is properly Calvinistic, is plain from the times in which it
was composed, from the opinions of the men who drew it up, and from the
terms in which it is expressed. Yet many thousand ministers with all
varieties and shades of opinions, solemnly affirm they believe it,
although the law demands that the articles shall be taken in their plain
and grammatical sense. This is one proof of the consistency of creeds. I
quote one author, Boston, who seems actually to feast and luxuriate
amidst the dark monstrocities which he pictures; his spirit appears to
bound, and his heart to exult within him, at the sound of the dreadful
trumpet which calls the wicked to their final doom; and one can almost
imagine the rapture of his eye, as in fancy he saw the flame kindling,
and the smoke of torment arising in which they were to burn for ever. In
his description of hell he displays no ordinary degree of graphic and
geographical talent, and when he comes to paint the sufferings of damned
bodies, he is so accurate and anatomical, that as Paley at 60 learned
anatomy, to write on natural theology, you would suppose that Boston
learned it to enlarge with correctness on the physical tortures of the
lost. I wish not to fix his opinions upon any man or body of men;
substantially, however, they are no more than Calvinism, though some
might object to his mode of expressing them. This I may fairly say to
any of those who do not agree with Boston in their Calvinism, and would
yet fix the Improved Version on us, that _they_ are as bound to receive
the one as _we_ the other. Nay, more so, inasmuch as Boston’s work is in
a wider circulation, and with the evidence of most extensive approval.
It is published by the London Tract Society, and I have an edition
before me as late as 1838; it is sold by every evangelical bookseller,
and it is to be found on the shelves of every evangelical circulating
library. We are accused of rebellion against God and Christ; but let any
one read dispassionately the extracts contained in this, and reflect on
the sentiments to be deduced from their collective testimony, and then
let him say whether deeper injury was ever done to God, or Christ, or
man, than is inflicted by these repulsive dogmas. By these descriptions,
if God is a being of love or justice, then language has no meaning, or
we are to interpret the terms by their contradictories. If you were only
to disguise the words, but preserve the sentiments, and attribute the
character implied in them to the parent of the most zealous of
Calvinists, he would spurn the aspersion with honest indignation. And,
if we mean not by goodness in God, something analogous to goodness in
man, what is it that we can mean? The abstractions in which these dogmas
are involved by scholastic mysticism, blinds the mind to their ordinary
import. But let us suppose an illustration. Take the case of a human
father, who, granting he had the power, should pre-ordain his child to
misery; should attribute a guilt to him, he never knew; should require
from him what he had no power to accomplish, and condemn him because he
had not fulfilled it; should place him in circumstances in which he was
sure to grow worse, and yet withhold the help that could make him
better; should, as the son sunk deeper in iniquity, heap heavier
malediction on the wretch he abandoned; should see without pity the ruin
that continually grew darker, and gaze ruthlessly on the suffering that
was finally to be consummated in despair.—Suppose further, and you
render the picture complete, that such conduct was defined as the
vindication of parental dignity, the very glory of justice; and he who
practised it as a father of exceeding love. But we will go further, and
suppose this father has the power to cast his child into misery
everlasting, and that he does it; must we close the analogy here? No: we
can carry it one step higher: swell out this being into infinite
existence, make him omnipotent and omniscient, place him on the throne
of the universe, and put all creatures within his boundless control, he
is then the God of Calvin’s theology. This view I give not rashly, nor
without foundation; it is more than justified by the quotations that I
bring forward. _Our_ faith is characterized as a blasphemous heresy: we
employ no epithet, but we are not afraid to have it contrasted with
Calvinistic orthodoxy.
_Character of God._
“Predestination is the everlasting purpose of God; whereby (before the
foundations of the world were laid) he hath constantly decreed by his
counsel, secret to us, to deliver from curse and damnation those whom he
hath chosen in Christ out of mankind, and to bring them to everlasting
salvation, as vessels made to honour.”—_From the 17th Article of the
Church of England._
“By the decree of God, for the manifestation of his glory, some men and
angels are predestined unto everlasting life, and others fore-ordained
to everlasting death. These angels and men, thus predestined and
fore-ordained, are particularly and unchangeably designed; and their
number is so certain and definite, that it cannot be either increased or
diminished.”
“The rest of mankind God was pleased, according to the unsearchable
counsel of his own will; whereby he extendeth or withholdeth mercy as he
pleaseth, for the glory of his sovereign power over his creatures, to
pass by and to ordain them to dishonour and wrath for their sin, to the
praise of his glorious justice.”
“As for those wicked and ungodly men whom God, as a righteous judge, for
former sins doth blind and harden, from them he not only withholdeth his
grace, whereby they might have been enlightened in their understandings,
and wrought upon in their hearts, but sometimes also withdraweth the
gifts which they had, and exposeth them to such objects as their
conception makes occasion of sin; and withal, gives them over to their
own lusts, the temptations of the world, and the power of Satan; whereby
it cometh to pass, that they harden themselves, even under those means
which God useth for the softening of others.”—_Westminster Confession of
Faith_, ch. iii, § 3, 4, 7; ch. v, § 6.
“God, in his providence, permitted some angels wilfully and
irrecoverably to fall into sin and damnation, limiting and ordering that
and all their sins to his own glory; and established the rest in
holiness and happiness, employing them all, at his pleasure, in the
administrations of his power, wisdom, and justice.”—_Larger Catechism_,
q. 19.
“I grant, indeed,” says Calvin, “that all the children of Adam fell, by
the _will_ of God, into that misery of state whereby they be now bound;
and this is it that I said at the beginning, that at length we must
alway return to the determination of the will of God, the cause whereof
is hidden in himself. The angels which stood fast in their uprightness,
Paul calleth the elect. If their steadfastness was grounded on the good
pleasure of God, the falling away of the others proveth that they were
forsaken; of which thing there can be no other cause alleged than
reprobation, which is hidden in the secret counsel of God.”—_Inst._
note, b. iii, ch. 23, § 4.
“Predestination, whereby God adopteth some into the hope of life, and
adjudgeth some to eternal death, no man, that would be accounted godly,
dare deny.” “Predestination we call the eternal decree of God: he had it
determined with himself what he willed to become of every man. For all
are not created to like estate; but to some eternal life, and to some
eternal damnation, is fore-appointed. Therefore every man is created to
one or the other end. So we say he is predestinated to life or to
death.”—_Ibid._ b. iii, ch. 21, § 5.
“The Scripture crieth out that all men were in the person of one man
made bound to eternal death. Since this cannot be imputed to nature, it
is plain it proceeded from the wondrous counsel of God. But it is too
much absurdity that these, the good patrons of the righteousness of God,
do so stumble at a straw and leap over beams. Again I ask, how came it
that the fall of Adam did wrap up in eternal death so many nations, with
their children, being infants, without remedy, but because it so pleased
God? Here their tongues, which are otherwise so prattling, must be dumb.
It is a terrible decree, I grant; yet no man shall be able to deny but
that God foreknew what end man should have ere he created him, and
therefore foreknew because he had so ordained by his decree.”—_Ibid._ b.
iii, ch. 23, § 7.
These quotations, did space permit, or the patience of my readers, might
be multiplied to a much greater extent; and might do something, perhaps,
to illustrate the character of the persecutor of Servetus. His actions,
as a man, were not inconsistent with his ideas of God as a theologian.
“Who can fully describe,” asks Boston, “the wrath of an angry God? None
can do it.” “Wrath,” he says, “is a fire in the affections of man,
tormenting the man himself; but there is no perturbation in God. His
wrath does not in the least mar that infinite repose which he hath in
himself.” Then, speaking of man generally, he says, “There is a wrath in
the heart of God against him; there is a wrath in the word of God
against him; there is a wrath in the hand of God against him.” We have
here his statement of wrath in God as an agent; and, through pages of
gloomiest description, he makes man its unsheltered object. “There is a
wrath on his body. It is a piece of accursed clay, which wrath is
sinking into, by virtue of the first covenant. There is a wrath on the
natural man’s enjoyments. Wrath is on all he has: on the bread he eats,
the liquor he drinks, and the clothes he wears.”—_Boston’s Fourfold
State._
_Character and Condition of Man._
“With such bondage of sin then as will is detained, it cannot move
itself to goodness, much less apply itself.”—_Calvin Inst._, b. ii, ch.
3, § 5, London Edition, 634.
“Works done by unregenerate men, although for the matter of them they
may be things which God commands, and of good use both to themselves and
others, yet because they proceed not from a heart purified by faith, nor
are done in a right manner, according to the word, nor to a right end,
the glory of God, they are therefore sinful, and cannot please God, or
make a man meet to receive grace from God: and yet their neglect of them
is more sinful and displeasing unto God.”—_Westminster Confession of
Faith_, ch. xvi. § 7.
“Man in his depraved state is under an utter inability to do anything
truly good.”—_Boston._