For the universal good, it will be inexorably enforced against the individual transgressor. God is not slack concerning his promises. He is free from all human weakness. His mind is not limited, like that of man, to be more affected by partial suffering than by that universal disorder and ruin which must inevitably result from the unrequited violation of his law. The mind of man is unduly affected by the present and the proximate; but to God there is neither remote nor future. And when, in wisdom and in goodness, he first established and ordained the law unto life, he saw the end from the beginning; and he can never sacrifice the universal good by setting aside that law in order to avoid partial evil. His mercy to the whole creation makes the same demand as his justice. The execution of divine justice is, indeed, but a manifestation of that mercy which is over all his works; and which labours, with omnipotent energy, to secure the good of all, by vindicating the majesty and glory of that law, upon the preservation of which inviolate the good of all depends. The fire that is not quenched is kindled by the boundless love of God no less than by his justice; and the very fierceness of its burning is, that it is the "wrath of the Lamb." Let us not be deceived by the vain fancies and the idle dreams which our fond wishes and narrow-minded infirmities are so apt to beget in us. Let us remember that the mercy of God is united with omniscience; and that it is to be found only in the bosom of Him whose empire extends to the utmost bounds of the universe, as well as throughout the endless ages of eternity.

In the genuine spirit of Socinian theology, Dr. Channing, in his illustration, has set before us the mercy of God alone; and that, too, merely in relation to the sinner, and not in relation to his law and government. He entirely overlooks the fact, that it is impossible to exhibit either the justice or the mercy of God in the most affecting manner, except in union with each other. It is frequently said, we are aware, that if God had pardoned the sinner without enforcing the demands of the law, he would have displayed his mercy alone, and not his justice; but in fact this would have been a very equivocal display of mercy. It would have shown only one of two things: either that God regarded the sinner with an eye of compassion, or that he did not regard his sin: either that he was merciful, or that he had no great abhorrence of sin: either that he loved the transgressor, or that he did not hate the transgression.

To illustrate this point, let us take the case of Zaleucus, the king of the Locrians. He passed a certain law, with the penalty that every transgressor of it should lose both his eyes. It so happened that his own son was the first by whom it was violated. Now, any one can see, that although Zaleucus had been a hard-hearted and unfeeling tyrant, he might have pardoned his son, just because he had no regard to the demands of public justice; or, on the other hand, that he might have inflicted the penalty of the law upon his son to the uttermost, not out of a supreme regard to the law, but because he was destitute of mercy and natural affection. Neither by remitting the whole punishment, nor by inflicting it with rigour, could he have made such a display of his justice and mercy as to make a deep moral impression upon his subjects. In other words, if either of these attributes had been left out in the manifestation, the display of the other must have been exceedingly feeble and equivocal. Both must be seen in union, or neither can be seen in the fulness of its glory.

How, then, could Zaleucus have displayed both of these attributes in the most perfect and affecting manner? By doing precisely that which he is said to have done. He directed that one of his own eyes should be put out, and one of his son's. Whose heart is not touched by this most affecting display of the tender pity of the father, in union with the stern justice of the law-giver? His pity would not allow him to inflict the whole penalty upon his beloved son; and his high regard for the demands of public justice would not permit him to set at naught the authority of the law: and but for the possession and manifestation of this last trait of character, the mighty strugglings and yearnings of the first could not have burst forth and appeared with such overwhelming power and transcendent lustre. Hence, every system of redemption which, like that of the Socinian, leaves out of view the administrative justice of God, does not admit of any very impressive display of his goodness and his mercy.

All such illustrations must be imperfect, in some respects; but the one above given conveys a far more adequate view of the atonement than that presented by Dr. Channing. The application of it is easy. Such was the mercy of God, that he could not leave his poor fallen creatures to endure the awful penalty of the law; and such was his regard for the purity and happiness of the universe, that he could not permit his law to be violated with impunity. If his administrative justice had not stood in the way, the offer of pardon to the sinner would have cost him merely a word. And hence the length, the breadth, and the depth of his love could not have been manifested. But he was the Ruler of the universe, and as such his law stood in the way. He owed it to himself not to permit this to be trampled under foot with impunity, nor its violation to be forgiven, until he had provided some way in order to secure the high and holy ends for which it had been established. Hence, as it was not possible for God to deny himself, he sent forth his beloved Son, who had been the companion of his bosom and his blessedness from all eternity, to take upon himself the form of a servant, and by his teaching, and obedience, and sufferings, and death, to vindicate the majesty of the law, and to render it honourable in the sight of the universe. And it is this wonderful union of the goodness and the severity, of the mercy and the justice of God, which constitutes the grand moral tendency and glory of the cross.

The course pursued by the king of the Locrians, in relation to the crime of his son, secured the ends of the law in a much greater degree than they could have been secured by a rigorous execution of its penalty upon the person of his son. It evinced a deep and settled abhorrence of crime, and an inflexible determination to punish it. It cut off all hope from his subjects that crime would be permitted to escape with impunity. And hence, after such a manifestation of his character as a king, he could permit his son to enjoy the unspeakable blessings of sight, without holding out the least encouragement to the commission of crime.

So, likewise, in relation to the sufferings of Christ. These were not, in strictness, the penalty of the law. This was eternal death; whereas the sufferings of Christ, inconceivably great as they were, were but temporal; and there can be no proportion between sufferings which know a period, and those which are without end. Hence, as we have already said, he did not satisfy the punitive justice of God. But the sacrifice of Christ answered all the purposes that could have been answered by the rigorous execution of the law; and it answered them in an infinitely greater degree, than if the human race had been permitted to endure it without remedy.

God's love to his Son was inconceivably greater than that which any creature ever bore to himself or to any other; and, consequently, by offering him up as a substitute for guilty mortals, in order that he might save them without doing violence to his administrative justice, he manifested the infinite energy of his determination to destroy sin. No account of the indescribable odiousness and deformity of evil, nor of the inconceivable holiness of God, could have made so deep an impression of his implacable abhorrence of sin, as is made by the cross upon which his Son was permitted to expire amid the scorn and contempt of his enemies. The human imagination has no power to conceive of a more impressive and appalling enforcement of the great lesson, "Stand in awe, and sin not," than that which is presented to an astonished universe in the cross and passion of the Son of God.

And besides, it possesses this other unspeakable advantage, that while it manifests an infinite abhorrence of sin, it displays the most heart-subduing love of the sinner. If Zaleucus had exhausted the penalty of the law upon his son, this would have had little or no tendency to reform his heart, or to induce him to acquiesce in the justness of the law. It would have been more apt to lead him to regard the king as an unfeeling father. But when he was made to see, by the manner in which the king had dispensed the law, that he cherished the warmest feelings of affection for him, there was no cause left for a murmur on the part of any, but for the highest admiration on the part of all.

Just so in relation to the sufferings and death of Christ. If God had exhausted the fearful penalty of the law upon poor, suffering, and degraded humanity, this would have been well calculated to inspire his creatures with a servile and trembling awe of him. From their limited and imperfect views of the evil of sin, and of the reasons why it should be punished, they would not have been prepared to acquiesce in such tremendous severity. Thus, one of the great ends of God's moral government would have been subverted: the affections of his creatures would have been estranged from him, through a distrust of his goodness and a dread of his power, instead of having been drawn to him by the sweet and sacred ties of confidence and love. But how different is the case now! Having given for us his beloved Son, who is greater than all things, while we were yet enemies, now that we are reconciled to him, we are most firmly persuaded that he will freely give us all things that can possibly conduce to our good. Surely, after such a display of his love, it were highly criminal in us, to permit the least shadow of suspicion or distrust to intercept the sweet, and cheering, and purifying beams of his reconciled countenance. Whatever may be his severity against sin, and whatever terror it may strike into the conscience of evil-doers, we can most cordially acquiesce in its justness: for we most clearly perceive, that the penalty of the law was not established to gratify any private appetite for revenge, but to uphold and secure the highest happiness of the moral universe.



Chapter IV.

The Eternal Punishment Of The Wicked Reconciled With The Goodness Of God.

And thus, Transfigured, with a meek and dreadless awe, A solemn hush of spirit, he beholds All things of terrible seeming: yea, unmoved Views e'en the immitigable ministers, That shower down vengeance on these latter days. For even these on wings of healing come, Yea, kindling with intenser Deity; From the celestial mercy-seat they speed, And at the renovating wells of love, Have fill'd their vials with salutary wrath.—COLERIDGE.

Having considered the sufferings of the innocent, it now becomes necessary to contemplate the punishment of the guilty, in connexion with the infinite goodness of God. This conducts us to the consideration of the most awful subject that ever engaged the attention of a rational being,—the never-ending torments of the wicked in another world. Though plausible arguments and objections have been urged against this doctrine, we are perfectly satisfied they will not bear the test of a close examination. They have derived all their apparent force and conclusiveness, it seems to us, from two distinct sources, namely: from the circumstance that this appalling doctrine has been too often placed, by its advocates, upon insecure and untenable grounds; and from the fact, that the supporters of this doctrine have too often maintained principles from which its fallacy may be clearly inferred. In the defence of this doctrine, then, we shall endeavour to point out, first, the false grounds upon which it has been placed; secondly, the unsound principles from which its fallacy may be inferred; and, thirdly, we shall endeavour to show the means by which it may be clearly and satisfactorily reconciled with the goodness of the Supreme Ruler of the world.



Section I.

The false grounds upon which the doctrine of the eternity of future punishment has been placed.

Nothing could be more untenable, it seems to us, than the usual argument in favour of future punishments, which seeks to justify their eternity on the ground that every sinful act, because it is committed against an infinite being, is infinite, and therefore deserves to be visited with endless torments. This argument, which seems but little better than a play on the term infinite, is perhaps calculated to make no impression upon any mind, which is not already fully persuaded of the truth of the doctrine in question. On the other hand, it may be so easily refuted by a multitude of considerations, that it exposes the doctrine, in one of its defences, to the triumphant attacks of its adversaries. We shall not exhaust the patience of the reader by dwelling upon the refutation which may be given of such an argument. We shall dismiss it with a single reply, and that we shall give in the language of John Foster.

"A common argument has been that sin is an infinite evil, that is, of infinite demerit, as an offence against an infinite being; and that, since a finite creature cannot suffer infinitely in measure, he must in duration. But, surely in all reason, the limited, and in the present instance, diminutive nature of the criminal, must be an essential part of the case for judgment. Every act must, for one of its proportions, be measured by the nature and condition of the agent: and it would seem that one principle in that rule of proportion should be, that the offending agent should be capable of being aware of the magnitude (the amount, if we might use such a word,) of the offence he commits, by being capable of something like an adequate conception of the being against whom it is committed. A perverse child, committing an offence against a great monarch, of whose dignity it had some, but a vastly inadequate apprehension, would not be punished in the same manner as an offender of high endowments and responsibility, and fully aware of the dignity of the personage offended. The one would justly be sharply chastised; the other might as justly be condemned to death. In the present case, the offender does or may know that the Being offended against is of awful majesty, and therefore the offence is one of great aggravation, and he will justly be punished with great severity; but by his extremely contracted and feeble faculties, as the lowest in the scale of strictly rational and accountable creatures in the whole creation, he is infinitely incapable of any adequate conception of the greatness of the Being offended against. He is then, according to the argument, obnoxious to a punishment not in any proportion to his own nature, but alone to that infinity of the supreme nature, which is to him infinitely inconceivable and unknown."(198)

This answer alone, though perhaps not the best which might be made, we deem amply sufficient. Indeed, does not the position, that a man, a poor, weak, fallible creature, deserves an infinite punishment, an eternity of torments, for each evil thought or word, carry its own refutation along with it? And if not, what are we to think of that attribute of justice, which demands an eternity to inflict the infinite pangs due to a single sin? Is it a quality to inspire the soul with a rational worship, or to fill it with a horror which casteth out love?

Another argument to show the infinite ill-desert of some men, is drawn from the scientia media Dei. It is said, that if God foresaw that if they had been placed in various other circumstances, and surrounded by other temptations, their dispositions and character would have induced them to commit other sins; for which they are, therefore, as really responsible as if they had actually committed them. If this be a correct principle, it is easy, we must admit, to render each individual of the human race responsible for a greater number of sins than have ever been committed, or than could ever have been committed by all the actual dwellers upon the face of the earth. Nay, by such a process of multiplication, it would be easy to spread the guilt of a single soul over every point of infinite space, and every moment of eternal duration. But such a principle is more than questionable. To say nothing of its intrinsic deformity, it is refuted by the consequences to which it leads. We want arguments on this subject, that will give the mind, not horrid caricatures of the divine justice, but such views of that sublime attribute as will inspire us with sentiments of admiration and love, as well as with a godly fear and wholesome awe.



Section II.

The unsound principles from which, if true, the fallacy of the eternity of future punishments may be clearly inferred.

It is a doctrine maintained by Augustine, Calvin, and Luther, as well as by many of their followers, that, in his fallen state, man "is free to evil only." He can do nothing good without the aid of divine grace; and this, in point of fact, is given to but a very small number of the human race; at least, efficacious grace is given to but few, so that the greater part of mankind cannot acquire or possess that holiness without which no man shall see the Lord. Now, if we take our stand upon this platform of doctrine, it will be found utterly impossible, we think, to defend the eternity of future punishments.

It was upon this platform that John Foster erected his tremendous battery against the doctrine in question; and it is believed, that the more closely the argument is examined, the more clearly it will be seen, that he has either demolished the doctrine which was so obnoxious to his feelings, or else the platform which constituted so essential a part of his own creed. In our humble opinion, "the moral argument," as he calls it, "pressed irresistibly upon his mind;" because it was drawn from false premises, of whose correctness he seems not to have entertained the shadow of a doubt. He clung to the conclusion, when he should have abandoned the premises. But we shall give his own words, and permit the reader to judge for himself.

After having endeavoured to impress our feeble powers with "the stupendous idea of eternity," he adds: "Now think of an infliction of misery protracted through such a period, and at the end of it being only commenced,—not one smallest step nearer a conclusion,—the case just the same if that sum of figures were multiplied by itself; and then think of man,—his nature, his situation, the circumstances of his brief sojourn and trial on earth. Far be it from us to make light of the demerit of sin, and to remonstrate with the Supreme Judge against a severe chastisement, of whatever moral nature we may regard the infliction to be. But still, what is man? He comes into the world with a nature fatally corrupt, and powerfully tending to actual evil. He comes among a crowd of temptations adapted to his innate evil propensities. He grows up (incomparably the greater portion of the race) in great ignorance, his judgment weak, and under numberless beguilements into error; while his passions and appetites are strong, his conscience unequally matched against their power,—in the majority of men, but feebly and rudely constituted. The influence of whatever good instructions he may receive, is counteracted by a combination of opposite influences almost constantly acting on him. He is essentially and inevitably unapt to be powerfully acted on by what is invisible and future. In addition to all which, there is the intervention and activity of the great tempter and destroyer. In short, his condition is such that there is no hope of him, but from a direct, special operation on him, of what we denominate grace. Is it not so? Are we not convinced? Is it not the plain doctrine of Scripture? Is there not irresistible evidence, from a view of the actual condition of the human world, that no man can become good in the Christian sense,—can become fit for a holy and happy place hereafter,—but by this operation ab extra? But this is arbitrary and discriminative on the part of the sovereign Agent, and independent of the will of man. And how awfully evident is it, that this indispensable operation takes place only on a comparatively small proportion of the collective race!

"Now this creature, thus constituted and circumstanced, passes a few fleeting years on earth, a short, sinful course, in which he does often what, notwithstanding his ignorance and ill-disciplined judgment and conscience, he knows to be wrong, and neglects what he knows to be his duty; and, consequently, for a greater or less measure of guilt, widely different in different offenders, deserves punishment. But ENDLESS PUNISHMENT! HOPELESS MISERY, through a duration to which the enormous terms above imagined will be absolutely NOTHING! I acknowledge my inability (I would say it reverently) to admit this belief, together with a belief in the divine goodness,—the belief that 'God is love,' that his tender mercies are over all his works. Goodness, benevolence, charity, as ascribed in supreme perfection to him, cannot mean a quality foreign to all human conceptions of goodness: it must be something analogous in principle to what himself has defined and required as goodness in his moral creatures; that, in adoring the divine goodness, we may not be worshipping an 'unknown God.' But, if so, how would all our ideas be confounded, while contemplating him bringing, of his own sovereign will, a race of creatures into existence, in such a condition that they certainly will and must—must by their nature and circumstances—go wrong, and be miserable, unless prevented by especial grace, which is the privilege of only a small proportion of them, and at the same time affixing on their delinquency a doom of which it is infinitely beyond the highest archangel's faculty to apprehend a thousandth part of the horror!"(199)

Now, granting the premises, we hold this argument to be unanswerable and conclusive. But is it not wonderful that it did not occur to so acute a mind as Foster's, that the same premises would furnish a valid argument against the justice of all punishment, as well as against the justice of eternal punishments? Surely, if the utter inability of man to do good without divine grace is any extenuation, when such grace is not given, it is an entire and perfect exoneration. It is either this, or it is nothing. Such are the inevitable inconsistencies of the best thinkers, when the feelings of the heart are at war with the notions of the head. Instead of analyzing this awful subject, and tracing it down to its fundamental principles, upon which his reason might have reposed with a calm and immovable satisfaction, Foster seems to have permitted his great mind to take root in a creed of man's devising, and then to be swayed by the gusts and counter-blasts of passion. Believing that man "must go wrong," that nature and circumstances impose this dire necessity upon him, his benevolence could not contemplate an eternity of torments as due to such inevitable sin. It was repelled by "the infinite horror of the tenet." On the other hand, his abhorrence of evil, and sense of justice, shrank with equal violence from the idea that all punishment is unjust; and hence he could say, "Far be it from us to make light of the demerit of sin, and to remonstrate with the Supreme Judge against a severe chastisement." Thus did his great mind, instead of resting upon truth, perpetually hang in a state of suspense and vacillation between the noblest feelings of his heart and the darkest errors of his creed.

Others, who have adopted the same creed, have endeavoured to extricate themselves from the dilemma in which Foster found himself, not by denying the eternity of future punishments, but by inventing a very nice distinction between the natural and moral inability of man. "He can obey the law," say they, "if he will;" all that "he wants is the will." All his natural faculties are complete; only let him will aright, and he is safe. But, after all, the question still remains, How is he to get the will,—the good will,—in order to render him acceptable to God? Does he get it from nature—is it a part of his birth-right? No: from this he derives a depraved will, "free to evil only." Is it vouchsafed to him from above? Is it a gift from God? Alas! to those who are lost, and perish eternally in their sins, the grace of God is never given! What does it signify thus to tell them, or to tell the world, that they have the natural ability to obey; that none of their natural faculties are lost; that they still have understandings, and affections, and wills? What can all these avail them? Is it not the merest mockery to assure them that they really have hearts, and wills, and feelings, if they "must go wrong," if they must put forth the volitions for which they shall be tormented forever?

Upon this distinction we shall not dwell, as we have fully considered it in our "Examination of Edwards on the Will." We shall merely add, that it is not an invention of modern times.(200) It is at least as old as the age of Augustine. "The Pelagians think," says he, "they know some great thing, when they say, 'God would not command what he knew could not be done by man.' Who does not know this? But he commands what we cannot do, whereby we know what we ought to ask of him. For it is faith which obtains by prayer what the law commands. For true it is that we keep the commandments if we will, (si volumus;) but as the will is prepared of the Lord, we must seek of him that we may will as much as is sufficient, in order to our doing by volition, (ut volendo faciamus.)" Truly, we can keep the commandments if we will to do so; for, as Augustine immediately says, "certain it is, that we will when we will."(201) But no man can put forth a volition in conformity with the commandments, unless it be given him of God, who "causes us to will good;"(202) and this is never given to the reprobate. How, then, can they be justly consigned to eternal torments? How can they be eternally punished for that which they could not possibly avoid? It is no wonder that a Foster should have shrunk from "the infinite horrors of such a tenet," as seen from this point of view; the only wonder is, that any one can be found who can possibly endure them.

The same distinction, as we have already said, is relied upon by Edwards in order to show that man has an ability to obey the law of God.(203)

Thus we are gravely taught that we are able to obey the law of God; because if we will to do so, the external act will follow; and because it is certain that if we will we do really will. But how to will is the question. Can we put forth the requisite volitions? No one doubts that if we put forth the volition which the law of God requires, we then obey him, whether the external act follow or not; nor that if we will, then we do really will. But all this leaves the great question untouched, Can we put forth the requisite volitions without divine aid? And after this question has been answered in the negative, and we have been told that such aid is not given to the reprobate, all this talk about a natural ability, which must forever prove unavailing, is the merest mockery that ever entered into the imagination or the metaphysics of man. However the fact may be disguised by verbal niceties, it as really places eternal life beyond the reach of the reprobate, as is the very sun in the firmament of heaven, and makes eternal death as inevitable to them as is the rising and the setting thereof.



Section III.

The eternity of future punishments an expression of the divine goodness.

We have seen in the first chapter of this part of the present work, that God really and sincerely intended the salvation of all men; and that if any are lost, it is because it is impossible in the nature of things to necessitate holiness; and that the impenitent, in spite of all the means employed by infinite wisdom and goodness for their salvation, do obstinately work out their own ruin and destruction. Omnipotence cannot confer holiness upon them; they do not choose to acquire it; and hence, they are compelled to endure the awful wages of sin. To those who reject this view of the nature of holiness, the world in which we live must forever remain an inexplicable enigma; and that to which we are hastening must present still more terrific subjects of contemplation. To their minds the eternal agonies of the lost can never be made to harmonize with the infinite perfections of God, by whom the second death is appointed. "How self-evident the proposition," says Foster, "that if the Sovereign Arbiter had intended the salvation of the race, it must have been accomplished." Having so summarily settled this position, that God did not intend the salvation of the race, the question which admits of no answer, Why did he not intend it? might well spread a mysterious darkness over the whole economy of divine providence. It was that darkness, that perplexing and confounding darkness, by which the mighty soul of Foster was oppressed with so many gloomy thoughts, and filled with so many frightful imaginations.

For our part, if we could believe that God could easily work holiness in the heart of every creature, and that he does not do so simply because he does not intend their salvation, we should not have attempted to vindicate his perfections. We should have believed in them, it is true; but we should have been constrained to confess, that they are veiled in impenetrable clouds and darkness. Hence, if we had not confessed ignorance and inability for all minds and all ages, as so many others have done, we should, at least, have confessed these things for ourselves, and supinely waited for the light of eternity to dispel the awful and perplexing enigmas of time. But we hold no such doctrine; we entertain no such sentiment. We believe that God, in his infinite, overflowing goodness desires, and from all eternity has desired, the salvation of all men. We believe that salvation is impossible to some, because a necessary holiness is impossible, and they do not choose to work out for themselves what cannot be worked out for them, even by omnipotence. It was the bright and cheering light which this truth seemed to cast upon the dark places of the universe, that first inspired us with the thought and determination to produce a theodicy. And it is in the light of this truth, if we mistake not, that the infinite love of God may be seen beaming from the eye of hell, as well as from the bright regions of eternal blessedness. This conclusion we shall endeavour methodically to unfold, and to set in a clear light.

In the first place, then, to begin with our fundamental position, the Creator could not necessitate the holiness of the creature. Hence this holiness, after all the means and the ability were given to him, must be left to the will of the creature himself. All that could be done in such a case was, for God to set life and death before us, accompanied by the greatest of all conceivable motives to pursue the one, and to fly from the other; and then say, "choose ye:" and all this has God actually done for the salvation of all men. Hence, though some should be finally lost, his infinite goodness will be clear. Let us see what objections may be urged against this conclusion.

Supposing it granted, that a necessitated virtue is a contradiction in terms, and that it is indispensably requisite to ordain rewards and punishments in order to prevent sin and secure holiness; it may still be said that the penalty of eternal death is too severe for that purpose, and is therefore inconsistent with the goodness of God. Indeed, after such a concession, this is the only position which can be taken in opposition to the doctrine in question. Let us then look at it, and examine the assumption upon which it rests for support.

If such punishments be too severe, it must be for one of these two reasons: either because no object can justify the infliction of them, or because the end proposed by the Supreme Ruler is not sufficiently great for that purpose.

Let us suppose, then, in the first place, the position to be assumed, that no object can possibly justify the infliction of such awful punishments. Such would be the case, we admit, if such punishments were unjust—were not deserved by the person upon whom they are inflicted. Hence, it becomes indispensable, in order to vindicate the divine benevolence, to show that eternal sufferings are deserved by those upon whom they fall. Otherwise they would be unjust, and consequently unjustifiable; as the end could never justify the means.

We say, then, that eternal sufferings are deserved by the finally impenitent, not because every sinful act carries along with it an infinite guilt, nor because every sinner may be imagined to have committed an infinite number of sins, but because they will continue to sin forever. It will be conceded, that if punishment be admissible at all, it is right and proper that so long as acts of rebellion are persisted in, the rewards of iniquity should attend them. It will be conceded, that if the finally impenitent should continue to sin forever, then they forever deserve to reap the rewards of sin. But this is one part of the Scripture doctrine of future punishments, that those who endure them will never cease to sin and rebel against the authority of God's law.

Foster has attempted a reply to this defence of the doctrine in question, but without success. "It is usually alleged," says he, "that there will be an endless continuance of sinning ... and therefore the punishment must be endless." But "the allegation," he replies, "is of no avail in vindication of the doctrine, because the first consignment to this dreadful state necessitates a continuance of the criminality; the doctrine teaching that it is of the essence, and is an awful aggravation of the original consignment, that it dooms the condemned to maintain the criminal spirit unchanged forever. The doom to sin as well as to suffer, and, according to the argument, to sin in order to suffer, is inflicted as the punishment of the sin committed in the mortal state. Virtually, therefore, the eternal punishment is the punishment of the sins of time."(204)

Even according to the principles of Foster himself, the argument is wholly untenable. For he admits, that such is the evil nature of man, such the circumstances around him, and such the influences of the great tempter, he must inevitably go wrong; and yet he holds that he may be justly punished for such transgressions. Now, if every man who comes into the world be doomed to sin, as this author insists he is, and may be justly punished for sins committed in this life, why should he be excused for the sins committed in another state, because he is doomed to commit them? But this argumentum ad hominem is merely by the way, and has more to do with the consistency of the author, than with the validity of his position. We shall proceed to subject this to a more searching and a more, satisfactory test.

His argument assumes, that "it is of the essence of the original consignment, that it dooms the condemned to maintain the criminal spirit unchanged forever." This is an unwarrantable assumption. We nowhere learn, and we are nowhere required to believe, that the guilty are doomed to sin forever, because they have voluntarily sinned in this life; much less that they are necessitated to sin in order to suffer! The doctrine of the eternity of future punishments is not necessarily encumbered with any such ridiculous appendage; and if any one can be found to entertain so absurd a view of the doctrine, we must leave him to vindicate the creation of his own imagination.

We do not suppose that the soul of the guilty will continue to sin forever, because it will be consigned to the regions of the lost; but we suppose it will be consigned to the regions of the lost, because, by its own repeated acts of transgression, it has made sure of its eternal continuance in sinning. God dooms no man to sin—neither by his power nor by his providence. But it is a fact, against which there will be no dispute, that if a man commit a sin once, he will be still more apt to commit the same sin again, under the same or similar circumstances. The same thing will be true of each and every succeeding repetition of the offence; until the habit of sinning may be so completely wrought into the soul, and so firmly fixed there, that nothing can check it in its career of guilt. Neither the glories of heaven, nor the terrors of hell, may be sufficient to change its course. No amount of influence brought to bear upon its feelings, may be sufficient to transform its will. "There is a certain bound to imprudence and misbehaviour," says Butler, "which being transgressed, there remains no place for repentance in the natural course of things." And may we not also add, nor in the supernatural course of things either; and there only remains a certain fearful looking-for of judgment? As this may be the case, for aught we know, nay, as it seems so probable that this is the case, no one is authorized to pronounce endless sufferings unjust, unless he can first show that the object of them has not brought upon himself an eternal continuance in the practice of sin. In other words, unless he can first show that the sinner does not doom himself to an eternity of sinning, he cannot reasonably complain that his Creator and Judge dooms him to an eternity of suffering.

But it may be said, that although the sinner may deserve to suffer forever, because he continues to sin forever; yet it were more worthy the infinite goodness of God, to release him from so awful a calamity. If the sinner deserves such punishment, it is not only just to inflict it upon him, it is a demand of infinite goodness itself that it should be inflicted upon him, provided a sufficiently great good may be attained by such a manifestation of justice. This brings us to the consideration of our second point, namely: Is the object proposed to be accomplished by the infliction of eternal misery sufficiently great to justify the infliction of so severe a penalty? In other words, Is such a penalty disproportioned to the exigencies of the case?

In his attempt to show, that the infliction of eternal misery is too severe to consist with the goodness of God, Mr. Foster does not at all consider the great ends, or final causes, of penal enactments. He merely dwells upon the terrors of the punishment, and brings these into vivid contrast with the weakness and impotency of man in his mortal state. This, it must be confessed, is a most one-sided and partial view of so profound a subject; much better adapted to work upon the feelings than to enlighten the judgment. All that he seems to have seen in the case, is a poor, weak creature, utterly unable to do any good, subjected to eternal torments for the sins of "a few fleeting years on earth." Hence it was, that "the moral argument," which "pressed so irresistibly on his mind," came in "the stupendous idea of eternity."

Indeed, according to his theology, there could be no object sufficiently vast, no necessity sufficiently imperious, to justify eternal punishments. The prevention of sin, and the promotion of universal holiness, could not form such an object or constitute such a necessity; for, according to his creed, all this might have been most perfectly attained by a word. Hence, he was puzzled and confounded in the contemplation of what appeared to him so much unnecessary evil. "I acknowledge my inability," said he, "to admit the belief, (the belief in endless punishment,) together with the belief in the divine goodness—the belief that 'God is love,' that 'his tender mercies are over all his works.' "

As we have already seen from another point of view, we must come out from his theology if we would see the harmony and agreement between these beliefs. We must take our stand on the position, that Omnipotence cannot necessitate holiness, and must have recourse to rewards and punishments to secure it. Otherwise all evil and all suffering will remain an inexplicable enigma; all rewards and punishments awkward and clumsy contrivances to attain an end, which might be much better attained without them.

On this high and impregnable ground the moral argument of Foster loses all its irresistible force, and "the stupendous idea of eternity" presses with all its weight in favour of endless punishment. If temporal punishments are justified on the ground that they are necessary to meet the exigencies and uphold the interests of temporal governments, surely eternal punishments may be justified on the same ground in relation to an eternal government. The "stupendous idea of eternity" attaches to the whole, as well as to the part; and hence nothing can be gained to the cause of Universalism by the introduction of this idea, except in the minds of those who take only a one-sided and partial view of the subject.

The spectacle of punishment for a single day, it will be admitted, would be justified on the ground that it was necessary to support for a single day a government; especially if that government were vast in extent and involved stupendous interests. But if suffering for a single day may be justified on such a ground, then the exigencies of such a government for two days would justify a punishment for two days; and so on ad infinitum. Hence, the doctrine of eternal punishments in common with the eternal moral government of God, is not a greater anomaly than temporal punishments in relation to temporal governments. If we reject the one, we must also reject the other. Indeed, when we consider not only the eternal duration, but also the universal extent, of the divine government, the argument in question, if good for anything, presses with greater force against the little, insignificant governments of men, than against the moral government of God. One reason why Foster was "repelled into doubt by the infinite horrors of the tenet" is, that he merely contemplated the sufferings of the guilty, and saw not how those sufferings were connected with the majesty and glory of God's universal and eternal empire. It is as if an insect should undertake to set bounds to the punishments which human beings have found necessary to meet the exigencies and uphold the interests of human society.

We are told by writers on jurisprudence, that penalties should be proportioned to offences; but, as has been truly said, how this proportion is to be ascertained, or on what principles it is to be adjusted, we are seldom informed. We are usually left to vague generalities, which convey no definite information, and furnish no satisfactory guidance to our minds. If we can ascertain the precise conditions according to which this principle should be adjusted, even by goodness itself, we shall then be the better able to determine whether the eternal suffering of the guilty and impenitent is not a manifestation of the love of God,—of that tender mercy which is over all his works.

It is a maxim that punishment should be sufficient to accomplish the great end for which it is imposed, namely, the prevention of offences. Otherwise, if it failed to accomplish this object, "it would be so much suffering in waste."(205) Now, who can say that the penalty of eternal death is not necessary to this end in the moral government of the universe, or that it is greater than is necessary for its accomplishment? Who can say that a punishment for a limited period would have answered that end in a greater or more desirable degree? Who can say that there would have been more holiness and happiness, with less sin and misery, in the universe, if the punishment of those whom nothing could reclaim had not been eternal? Who can say that it would be better for the universe, on the whole, if the punishment of sin were limited than if it were eternal? Until this question, which so evidently lies beyond the range of our narrow faculties, be answered, it is presumption to object that eternal punishment is inconsistent with the goodness of God. For aught the objector knows, this very penalty is demanded by infinite goodness itself, in order to stay the universal ravages of sin, and preserve the glory of the moral empire of Jehovah. For aught he knows, the very sufferings of the lost forever may be, not only a manifestation of the justice of God, but also a profound expression of that tender mercy which is over all his works. For aught he knows, this very appointment, at which he takes so great offence, may be one of the main pillars in the structure of the intellectual system of the universe; without which its internal constitution would be radically defective, and its moral government impossible. In short, for aught he knows, his objection may arise, not from any undue or unnecessary severity of the punishment in question, but from his own utter incapacity to decide such a point in relation to the universal and eternal government of God.

It may be said that this is an appeal to human ignorance, rather than a reply to the argument of the Universalist. Surely, it is good to be reminded of our ignorance, when we undertake to base objections against the doctrines of religion upon assumptions about the truth of which we know, and, from the nature of the case, must know, absolutely nothing. If the doctrine in question involved any inherent contradictions, or were it clearly at war with the dictates of justice, or mercy, or truth, there might be some reason in our opposition; but to oppose it because we cannot see how it subserves the highest interests of the universe, seems to be an exceedingly rash and hasty decision; especially as we see that such a penalty must powerfully tend to restrain the wickedness of men, as well as to preserve unfallen creatures in their obedience.

It is not at all strange that beings with such faculties as we possess, limited on all sides, and far more influenced by feeling than by reason, should be oppressed by the stupendous idea of eternal torments. It absolutely overwhelms the imagination of poor, short-sighted creatures like ourselves. But God, in his plans for the universe and for eternity, takes no counsel of human weakness; and that which seems so terrible to our feeble intellects may, to his all-seeing eye, appear no more than a dark speck in a boundless realm of light. Surely, if there ever was, or ever could be, a question which should be reduced to the simple inquiry, "What saith the Scripture?" it is that respecting the future condition of the wicked.

It is truly amazing that a mind like Foster's should have put this inquiry so easily aside, and relied with so much confidence upon what he was pleased to call "the moral argument." This argument, as we have seen, is altogether unsound and sophistical. It bases itself upon the prejudices of a creed, and terminates in dark conjectures merely. He hopes, or rather he "would wish to indulge the hope, founded upon the divine attribute of infinite benevolence, that there will be a period somewhere in the endless futurity, when all God's sinning creatures will be restored by him to rectitude and happiness." Vain hope! delusive wish! How can they be made holy without their own consent and cooeperation? And if they could be restored to rectitude and happiness, how can we hope that God would restore them, since he has not been pleased to preserve them in their original state of rectitude and happiness?

But perhaps, says he, there will be, not a restoration of all God's sinning creatures to rectitude and happiness, but an annihilation of their existence. Even this conjecture, if true, "would be a prodigious relief;" for "the grand object of interest is a negation of the perpetuity of misery." Suppose, then, that the universe had been planned according to this benevolent wish of Mr. Foster, and that those who could not be reclaimed should, after a very protracted period of suffering, be forever annihilated; would this promote the order and well-being of the whole creation? How did Mr. Foster know but that such a provision in the government of the universe would oppose so feeble a barrier to the progress of sin, that scenes of mutability, and change, and ruin, would be introduced into the empire of God, from which his benevolence would shrink with infinite abhorrence? How did Mr. Foster know but that the Divine Benevolence itself would prefer a hell in one part of his dominions, to the universal disorder, confusion, and moral desolation which such a provision might introduce into the government of God? Such a conjecture might, it is true, bring a "prodigious relief" to our imagination; but the government of God is intended for the relief of the universe, and not for the relief of our imagination.

Others besides the author in question have sought relief for their minds on this subject, by indulging in vague conjectures respecting the real design of the Supreme Ruler and Judge. Archbishop Tillotson, for example, supposes that although God actually threatened to punish the wicked eternally, he does not intend, and is not bound, to carry this threat into execution. This penalty, he supposes, is merely set forth as a terror to evil-doers, in order to promote the good order and well-being of the world; and after it has subserved this purpose, the Lawgiver will graciously remit a portion of the threatened penalty, and restore all his sinning creatures to purity and bliss. In reply to this extraordinary position, we shall only say that if the Almighty really undertook to deceive the world for its own good, it is a pity he did not take the precaution to prevent the archbishop from detecting the cheat. It is a pity, we say, that he did not deceive the archbishop as well as the rest of men; and not suffer his secret to get into the possession of one who has so indiscreetly published it to the whole world.

Nothing seems more amazing to us than the haste and precipitancy with which most men dispose of subjects so awful as that of the eternity of future punishments. One would suppose that if any subject in the whole range of human thought should engage our most serious attention, and call forth the utmost exertion of our power of investigation, it would be the duration of punishment in a future life. If that punishment be eternal, it is certainly the most momentous question which ever engaged the attention of man, and is to be lightly disposed of only by madmen.(206)



Chapter V.

The Dispensation Of The Divine Favours Reconciled With The Goodness Of God.

O God, whose thunder shakes the sky, Whose eye this atom globe surveys, To thee, my only rock, I fly; Thy mercy in thy justice praise.

Then why, my soul, dost thou complain? Why drooping seek the dark recess? Shake off the melancholy chain, For God created all to bless.—CHATTERTON.

In the preceding part, we considered the doctrine of predestination, under the name of necessity, in its relation to the origin of evil. We there endeavoured to show that it denies the responsibility of man, and makes God the author of sin. In the present part, it remains for us to examine the same doctrine in relation to the equality of the divine goodness. If we mistake not, the scheme of predestination, or rather the doctrine of election, which lies at its foundation, is, when rightly understood, perfectly consistent with the impartiality and glory of the goodness of God. On this subject we shall now proceed to unfold our views in as orderly and perspicuous a manner as possible.



Section I.

The unequal distribution of favours, which obtains in the economy of natural providence, consistent with the goodness of God.

It has been thought that if the goodness of God were unlimited and impartial, the light and blessings of revelation would be universal. But before we should attach any weight to such an objection, we should first consider and determine two things.

First, we should consider and determine how far the unequal diffusion of the light of revelation has resulted from the agency of man, and how far from the agency of God. For, if this inequality in the spread of a divine blessing has sprung in any degree from the abuse which free, subordinate agents have made of their powers, either by active opposition, or passive neglect, it is in so far no more imputable to a want of goodness in the Divine Being than is any other evil or disorder which the creature has introduced into the world. In so far, the glory of God is clear, and man alone is to blame. It is incumbent upon those, then, who urge this objection against the goodness of God to show that the evil in question has not resulted from the agency of man. This position, we imagine, the objector will not find it very easy to establish; and yet, until he does so, his objection very clearly rests upon a mere unsupported hypothesis.

Secondly, before we can fairly rely upon the objection in question, we should be able to show, that the agency of God might have been so exerted as to spread the light of revelation further than it now extends, without on the whole causing greater evil than good. Light or knowledge, it should be remembered, is not in itself a blessing. It may be so, or it may not; and whether it be a blessing or a curse depends, not upon the beneficence of the giver, but upon the disposition and character of the recipient. Before we should presume to indulge the least complaint, then, against the goodness of divine providence, we should be able to produce the nation, whose character for moral goodness and virtue would, on the whole, and in relation to its circumstances, have been improved by the interposition of God in causing the light of truth to shine in the midst of its corruptions. But we are manifestly incompetent to deal with a question of such a nature. Its infinite complication, as well as its stupendous magnitude, places it entirely beyond the reach of the human mind. So manifold and so multiform are the hidden causes upon which its solution depends, that general principles cannot be brought to bear upon it; and its infinite variety and complication of detail must forever baffle the intellect of man. Hence, an objection which proceeds on the supposition that this question has been solved and determined, is worth nothing.

But, for the sake of argument, let us suppose that the unequal diffusion of religious knowledge has proceeded directly from the agency of God. Still the objection against his goodness, in regard to the dispensation of light, would be no greater than in relation to all the dispensations of his favour. All the gifts of Heaven—health, riches, honour, intelligence, and whatever else comes down from above—are scattered among the children of men with the most promiscuous variety. Hence, the unequal distribution of the blessings of the gospel, or rather of its external advantages, is so far from being inconsistent with the character of God, that it is of a piece with all his other dispensations: it is so far from standing out as an anomaly in the proceedings of the Divine Being, that it falls in with the whole analogy of nature and of providence. Hence, there is no resting-place between the abandonment of this objection, and downright atheism.

Let us see, then, what force there is in this objection, when urged, as it is by the atheist, against the whole constitution and management of the world. It proceeds on the supposition, that if light and knowledge, or any other natural advantage, were bestowed upon one person, it would be bestowed upon all others, and upon all in precisely the same degree. According to his view, there should be no such thing as degrees in knowledge, and consequently no such thing as self-development and progress. To select only one instance out of many: the atheist objects, that it is not worthy of infinite wisdom and goodness to provide us with so complicated an instrument as the eye, as a means of obtaining light and knowledge. Why could not this end be attained by a more simple and direct method? Why leave us, for so great a portion of earthly existence, in comparative ignorance, to grope out our way into regions of light?

In the eye of reason, there is no end to this kind of objecting; and it only stops where the shallow conceit, or wayward fancy, of the objector is pleased to terminate. It is very easy to ask, Why a Being of infinite goodness did not confer light and knowledge upon us directly and at once, without leaving us to acquire them by the tedious use of the complicated means provided by his natural providence. But the inquiry does not stop here. He might just as well ask, Why such a Being was pleased to confer so small an amount of light upon us, and leave us to acquire more for ourselves? Why not confer it upon us without measure and without exertion on our part? The same interrogation, it is evident, may be applied to every other blessing, as well as to knowledge; and hence the objection of the atheist, when carried out, terminates in the great difficulty, why God did not make all creatures alike, and each equal to himself. On the principle of this objection, the insect should complain that it is not a man; the man that he is not an angel; and the angel that he is not a god. Hence, such a principle would exclude from the system of the world everything like a diversity and subordination of parts; and would reduce the whole universe, as a system, to as inconceivable a nonentity as would be a watch, all of whose parts should be made of exactly the same materials, and possessing precisely the same force and properties.

In every system, whether of nature or of art, there must be a variety and subordination of parts. Hence, to object that each part is not perfect in itself, without considering its relations and adaptation to the whole, is little short of madness. And what heightens the absurdity in the present case is, that the parts which fall under observation may, for aught we know, possess the greatest perfection which is consistent with the highest good and beauty of the whole.

If God has endowed man with the attributes of reason and speech; if he has scattered around him, with a liberal hand, the multiplied blessings of life; if, above all, he has made him capable of eternal blessedness, and of an endless progress in glory; this should warm his heart with the most glowing gratitude, and tune his tongue to the most exalted praise. And the man, the rational and immortal being, whose high endowments should lead him to murmur and repine at the unequal dispensations of the divine bounty, because God has created beings of a higher order than himself, and placed them in a world where no cloud is ever seen, and where no sigh is ever heard, would certainly, to say the very least, be guilty of the most criminal ingratitude. Reason and conscience might well cry out, Shall the thing formed say to Him who formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? And God himself might well demand, Is thine eye evil, because I am good?

The case is not altered, if we suppose that the divine favour is unequally bestowed upon different individuals of the same species, instead of the different orders of created beings. The same principle of wisdom and goodness, as Butler remarks, whatever it may be, which led God to make a difference between men and angels, may be the same which induces him to make a difference between one portion of the human family and another—to leave one portion for a season to the dim twilight of nature, while upon another he pours out the light of revelation. The same principle, it may also be, which gives rise to the endless diversity of natural gifts among the different individuals of the same community, as well as to the different situations of the same individual, in regard to his temporal and eternal interests, during the various stages of his earthly existence. And if this be so, we should either cease to object against the goodness of God, because the same powers and advantages are not bestowed upon all, or we should adopt the atheistical principle, in its fullest extent, which has now been shown to be so full of absurdity.

But although we cannot see the particular reasons of such a diversity of gifts, or how each is subservient to the good of the whole; yet every shadow of injustice will disappear, if we consider that God deals with every one, to use the language of Scripture, "according to what he hath, and not according to what he hath not." His bounty overflows, in various degrees, upon his creatures; but his justice equalizes all, by requiring every one to give an account of just exactly as many talents as have been committed to his charge, and no more.

In this respect, all the dispensations of divine providence are clearly and broadly distinguished from the Calvinistic scheme of election and reprobation. According to this scheme, the reprobate, or those who are not objects of the divine mercy, have not, and never had, the ability to obey the law of God; and yet they are condemned to eternal death for their failure to obey it. This is to deal with them, not according to what they have, but according to what they have not, and what they could not possibly have. Hence, to reason from one of these cases to the other, from the inequality of gifts and talents ordained by God to a scheme of election and reprobation, as Calvinists uniformly do, is to confound all our notions of just dealing, and to convert the rightful sovereignty of God into frightful tyranny. The perfect justice of this remark will, we trust, be made to appear the more clearly and fully in the course of the following section of the present work.



Section II.

The Scripture doctrine of election consistent with the impartiality of the divine goodness.

We have seen that the election of a nation to the enjoyment of certain external advantages, or the bestowment of superior gifts upon some individuals, is not inconsistent with the perfection of the divine goodness. Beyond the distinctions thus indicated, and which so clearly obtain in the natural providence of God, it is believed that the Scriptural scheme of election does not go; and that the more rigid features of the Calvinistic scheme of election and reprobation can be deduced from revelation only by a violent wresting and straining of the clear word of God. Let us see if this assertion may not be fully established.

The ninth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, it is well known, is the portion of Scripture upon which the advocates of that scheme have chiefly relied, from Augustine down to Calvin, and from Calvin down to the present day. But, to any impartial mind, we believe, this chapter will not be found to lend the least shadow of support to any such scheme of doctrine. We assume this position advisedly, and shall proceed to give the reasons on which it is based.

Now, in the interpretation of any instrument of writing, it is a universally admitted rule, that it should be construed with reference to the subject of which it treats. What, then, is the subject of which the apostle treats in the ninth chapter of Romans? In regard to this point there is no dispute; and, to avoid all appearance of controversy in relation to it, we shall state the design of the apostle, in this part of his discourse, in the words of one by whom the Calvinistic scheme of election is maintained. "With the eighth chapter," says Professor Hodge, in his Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, "the discussion of the plan of salvation, and its immediate consequences, was brought to a close. The consideration of the calling of the Gentiles, and the rejection of the Jews, commences with the ninth, and extends to the end of the eleventh." Thus, according to the author, "the subject which the apostle had in view," in the ninth chapter, is "the rejection of the Jews, and the calling of the Gentiles." Now, if this be his subject, and if the discussion of the plan of salvation was brought to a close in the eighth chapter, how can the doctrine of election and reprobation, which lies at the very foundation of, and gives both shape and colouring to, the whole scheme of salvation, as maintained by Calvinists, be found in the ninth chapter? How has it happened that such important lights have been thrown upon the plan of salvation, and such fundamental positions established in relation to it, after its discussion has been brought to a close? But this only by the way; we shall hereafter see how these important lights have been extracted from the chapter in question.

The precise passage upon which the greatest stress is laid seems to be the following: "The children being not yet born, neither having done any good or evil, that the purpose of God, according to election, might stand, not of works, but of him that calleth; it was said unto her, The elder shall serve the younger. As it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated." Now, the question is, Does this refer to the election of Jacob to eternal life, and the eternal reprobation of Esau; or, Does it refer to the selection of the descendants of the former to constitute the visible people of God on earth? This is the question; and it is one which, we think, is by no means difficult of solution.

The apostle was in the habit of quoting only a few words of a passage of the Old Testament, to which he had occasion to refer; and in the present instance he merely cites the words of the prophecy, "The elder shall serve the younger." But, according to the prophecy to which he refers, it was said to Rebecca, "Two nations are in thy womb, and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels; and the one people shall be stronger than the other people, and the elder shall serve the younger." Nothing can be plainer, we think, than that this prophecy relates to the descendants of Jacob and Esau, and not to the individuals themselves.

This view of the above passage, if it needed further confirmation, is corroborated by the fact that Esau did not serve Jacob, and that this part of the prophecy is true only in relation to his descendants. Thus the prophecy, when interpreted by its own express words, as well as by the event, shows that it related to "two nations," to "two manner of people," and not to two individuals.

The argument of St. Paul demands this interpretation. He is not discussing the plan of salvation. The question before him is not whether some are elected to eternal life on account of their works or not; and hence, if he had quoted a prophecy(207) from the Old Testament to establish that position, he would have been guilty of a gross solecism, a non sequitur, as plain as could well be conceived.

For these reasons, we think there can be but little doubt with respect to the true meaning of the passage in question. And besides, this construction not only brings the language of the apostle into perfect conformity with the providence which God is actually seen to exercise over the world, but also reconciles it with the glory of the divine character.

In regard to the meaning of the terms loved and hated, used in the prophecy under consideration, there can be no doubt that the interpretation of Professor Hodge is perfectly just. "The meaning is," says he, "that God preferred one to the other, or chose one instead of the other. As this is the idea meant to be expressed, it is evident that in this case the word hate means to love less, to regard and treat with less favour. Thus in Gen. xxix, 33, Leah says, she was hated by her husband; while, in the thirtieth verse, the same idea is expressed by saying, Jacob 'loved Rachel more than Leah.' Matt. x, 37. Luke xiv, 26: 'If any man come to me, and hate not his father and mother,' &c. John xii, 25."

No one will object to this explanation. But how will the language, thus understood, apply to the case of individual election and reprobation, as maintained by Calvinists? We can see, indeed, how it applies to the descendants of Esau, who were in many respects placed in less advantageous circumstances than the posterity of Jacob; but how can God be said to love the elect more than the reprobate? Can he be said to love the reprobate at all? If, from all eternity, they have been eternally damned for not rendering an impossible obedience, should we call this a lesser degree of love than that which is bestowed upon the elect, or should we call it hate? It seems, that the commentator feels some repugnance at the idea of setting apart the individual, before he has "done either good or evil," as an object of hate; but not at all at the idea of setting him apart as an object of eternal and remediless woe!

"It is no doubt true," says Professor Hodge, "that the prediction contained in this passage has reference not only to the relative standing of Jacob and Esau, as individuals, but also to that of their descendants. It may even be allowed that the latter was principally intended in the communication to Rebecca. But it is clear: 1. That this distinction between the two races presupposed and included a distinction between the individuals. Jacob, made the special heir to his father Isaac, obtained as an individual the birthright and the blessing; and Esau, as an individual, was cut off."

This may all be perfectly true; it is certainly nothing to the purpose. It is true, that Jacob was made the special heir to his father; but did he thereby inherit eternal life? The distinction between him and Esau was undoubtedly a personal favour; the very fact that his descendants would be so highly blessed, must have been a source of personal satisfaction and joy, which his less favoured brother did not possess. But was this birthright and this blessing the fixed and irreversible boon of eternal life? There is not the least shadow of any such thing in the whole record. The only blessings, of a personal or individual nature, of which the account gives us the least intimation, either by express words or by implication, are like those with which God, in his providence, still continues to distinguish some individuals from others. They are not the gift of eternal life, but of certain external and temporal advantages. Hence they throw no light upon the Calvinistic scheme of election and reprobation. To make out this scheme, or anything in support of it, something more must be done than to show that God distinguishes one nation, or one individual, from another, in the distribution of his favours. This is conceded on all sides; and has nothing to do with the point in dispute. It must also be shown, that the particular favour which he brings home to one by his infinite power, and which he withholds from another, is neither more nor less than the salvation of the soul. It must be shown, that the mere will and pleasure of God makes such a distinction among the souls of men, that while some are invincibly made the heirs of glory, others are stamped with the seal of eternal death. The inheritance of Jacob, and the casting off of Esau, were, so far as we can see, very different from the awful proceeding which is ascribed to God according to the Calvinistic scheme of election and reprobation.

The same remark is applicable to other attempts to show, that God's favour was bestowed upon Jacob, as an individual, in preference to Esau. "As to the objection," says Professor Hodge, "that Esau never personally served Jacob, it is founded on the mere literal sense of the words. Esau did acknowledge his inferiority to Jacob, and was postponed to him on various occasions. This is the real spirit of the passage. This prophecy, as is the case with all similar predictions, has various stages of fulfilment. The relation between the two brothers during life; the loss of the birthright blessing and promises on the part of Esau; the temporary subjugation of his descendants to the Hebrews under David; their final and complete subjugation under the Maccabees; and especially their exclusion from the peculiar privileges of the people of God, through all the periods of their history, are included." Suppose all this to be true, what relation has it to the election of some individuals to eternal life, and the reprobation of others?

We shall not dwell upon other portions of the chapter in question; for, if the foregoing remarks be just, it will be easy to dispose of every text which may, at first view, appear to support the Calvinistic doctrine of election. We shall dismiss the consideration of the ninth chapter of Romans with an extract from Dr. Macknight, who, although a firm believer in the Calvinistic view of election and reprobation, does not find any support for his doctrine in this portion of Scripture. "Although some passages in this chapter," says he, "which pious and learned men have understood of the election and reprobation of individuals, are in the foregoing illustration interpreted of the election of nations to be the people of God, and to enjoy the advantage of an external revelation, and of their losing these honourable distinctions, the reader must not, on that account, suppose the author rejects the doctrines of the decree and foreknowledge of God. These doctrines are taught in other passages of Scripture: see Rom. viii, 29." Thus this enlightened critic candidly abandons the ninth chapter of Romans, and seeks support for his Calvinistic view of the divine decrees elsewhere.

Let us, then, proceed to examine the eighth chapter of Romans, upon which he relies. The words are as follow: "For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the first-born among many brethren. Moreover, whom he did predestinate, them he also called: and whom he called, them he also justified: and whom he justified, them he also glorified." We need have no dispute with the Calvinists respecting the interpretation of these words. If we mistake not, we may adopt their own construction of them, and yet clearly show that they lend not the least support to their views of election and reprobation. "As to know," says Professor Hodge, "is often to approve and love, it may express the idea of peculiar affection in the case; or it may mean to select or determine upon." These two interpretations, as he truly says, "do not essentially differ. The one is but a modification of the other." "The idea, therefore, obviously is, that those whom God peculiarly loved, and by thus loving, distinguished or selected from the rest of mankind; or, to express both ideas in one word, those whom he elected he predestinated, &c." Thus, according to this commentator, those whom God elected, he also predestinated, called, justified, and, finally, glorified.

Now, suppose all this to be admitted, let us consider whether it gives any support to the Calvinistic creed of election. It teaches that all those whom God elects shall be ultimately saved; but not one word or one syllable does it say with respect to the principle or ground of his election. It tells us that God, in his infinite wisdom, selects one portion of mankind as the objects of his saving mercy,—the heirs of eternal glory; but it does not say that this selection, this approbation, this peculiar love, is wholly without foundation in the character or condition of the elect. It tells us that God has numbered the elect, and written their names in the book of life; but it does not tell us that, in any case, he has taken precisely such as he has left, or left precisely such as he has taken. The bare fact of the election is all that is here disclosed. The reason, or the ground, or the principle, of that election is not even alluded to; and we are left to gather it either from other portions of Scripture, or from the eternal dictates of justice and mercy. Hence, as this passage makes no allusion to the ground or reason of the divine election, it does not begin to touch the controversy we have with theologians of the Calvinistic school. Every link in the chain here presented is perfect, except that which connects its first link, the election to eternal life, with the unconditional decree of God; and that link, the only one in controversy, is absolutely wanting. We have no occasion to break the chain; for it is only to the imagination that it seems to be unconditionally bound to the throne of the Omnipotent.

As this passage, then, determines nothing with respect to the ground or reason of election, so we have as much right to affirm, even in the presence of such language, that God did really foresee a difference where he has made so great a distinction, as the Calvinists have to suppose that so great a distinction has been made by a mere arbitrary and capricious exercise of power. That we have a better reason for this position than our opponents can produce for theirs, we shall endeavour to show in the ensuing section.



Section III.

The Calvinistic scheme of election inconsistent with the impartiality and glory of the divine goodness.

Having seen that the unequal distribution of favours, which obtains in the wise economy of Providence, distinguishing nation from nation, as well as individual from individual, is not inconsistent with the perfection of the divine goodness; and having also seen that the Scripture doctrine of election makes no other distinctions than those which take place in the providence of God, and is equally reconcilable with the glory of his character, we come now to consider the Calvinistic scheme of election and reprobation. We have shown on what principles the providence of God, which makes so many distinctions among men, may be vindicated; let us now see on what principles the Calvinistic scheme of election and reprobation seeks to justify itself. If we mistake not, this scheme of predestination is as unlike the providence of God in its principles as it is in the appalling distinctions which it makes among the subjects of the moral government of the world.

"Predestination," says Calvin, "we call the eternal decree of God, by which he has determined in himself, what he would have to become of every individual of mankind. For they are not all created with a similar destiny; but eternal life is foreordained for some, and eternal damnation for others. Every man, therefore, being created for one or the other of these ends, we say, he is predestinated either to life or to death."(208) Again: "In conformity, therefore, to the clear doctrine of Scripture, we assert, that by an eternal and immutable counsel, God has once for all determined, both whom he would admit to salvation and whom he would condemn to destruction."(209)

The doctrine of predestination is set forth in the Westminster Confession of Faith, in the following terms: "By the decree of God, for the manifestation of his glory, some men and angels are predestinated unto everlasting life, and others foreordained to everlasting death."

"These men and angels, thus predestinated and foreordained, are particularly and unchangeably designed; and their number is so certain and definite, that it cannot be either increased or diminished."

"Those of mankind that are predestinated unto life, God, before the foundation of the world was laid, according to his eternal and immutable purpose, and the secret counsel and good pleasure of his will, hath chosen in Christ unto everlasting glory, out of his mere free grace and love, without any foresight of faith or good works, or perseverance in either of them, or any other thing in the creature, as conditions or causes moving him thereunto; and all to the praise of his glorious grace."

"As God hath appointed the elect unto glory, so hath he, by the eternal and most free purpose of his will, foreordained all the means thereunto. Wherefore, they who are elected, being fallen in Adam, are redeemed by Christ, are effectually called unto faith in Christ by his Spirit working in due season; are justified, adopted, sanctified, and kept by his power through faith unto salvation. Neither are any other redeemed by Christ, effectually called, justified, adopted, sanctified, and saved, but the elect only."

"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 to dishonour and wrath for their sin, to the praise of his glorious justice."

The defenders of this system assume the position, that as "by Adam's sin the whole human race became a corrupt mass, and justly subject to eternal damnation; so that no one can blame God's righteous decision, if none are saved from perdition."(210) Augustine expressly says: "But why faith is not given to all, need not move the faithful, who believe that by one all came into condemnation, doubtless the most just; so that there would be no just complaining of God, though no one should be freed." And again: "The dominion of death has so far prevailed over men, that the deserved punishment would drive all headlong into a second death likewise, of which there is no end, if the undeserved grace of God did not deliver them from it."(211) Such is the picture of the divine justice, which the advocates of predestination have presented, from the time of Augustine, the great founder of the doctrine, down to the present day. It surely furnishes a sufficiently dark background on which to display the divine mercy to advantage.

We are told, however, that we should not judge of the proceeding of God, according to our notions of justice. This is certainly true, if the divine justice is fairly represented in the scheme of predestination; for that is clearly unlike all that is called justice among men. If God can create countless myriads of beings, who, because they come into the world with a depraved nature, and "can do nothing but sin," he regards with such displeasure, as to leave them without hope and without remedy; and not only so, but dooms them to eternal misery on account of an unavoidable continuance in sin; it must be confessed, that we should not presume to apply our notions of justice to his dealings with the world. They would more exactly accord with our notions of injustice, cruelty, and oppression, than with any others of which we are capable of forming any conception.