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A Theodicy, or, Vindication of the Divine Glory
by Albert Taylor Bledsoe
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But, if we are not to decide according to our notions of justice, how shall we judge, or form any opinion respecting the equity of the divine proceeding? Shall we judge according to some notion which we do not possess, or shall we not judge at all? This last would seem to be the wiser course; but it is one which the Calvinists themselves will not permit us to adopt. They tell us, that the predestination of the greater part of mankind to eternal death is "to the praise of God's glorious justice." But how are we to behold this glorious manifestation of the divine justice, if we may not view it through any medium known to us, or contemplate it in any light which may have dawned upon our minds?

Indeed, although the defenders of this doctrine often declare that the predestination of so many men and angels to eternal misery, displays the justice of God in all its glory; yet their own writings furnish the most abundant and conclusive evidence, that they themselves can see no appearance of justice in such a proceeding. On various occasions they do not hesitate to tell us, that although they cannot recognise the justice of such a proceeding, yet they believe it to be just, because it is the proceeding of God. But how can that be a display of justice to us, which, according to all our notions, wears the appearance of the most frightful injustice? Calvin himself admits, that the justice of God, which is supposed to be so brightly displayed in the predestination of so many immortal beings to endless woe, is, in reality, therein involved in clouds and darkness. Yet he does not fail to deduce an argument in its favour from "the very obscurity which excites such dread."(212)

It seems clear, that if the divine justice is really displayed in the punishment of the reprobate, it would have been exhibited on a still more magnificent scale by the condemnation of the whole human race. For, according to Calvinism, all were equally deserving of the divine displeasure, and the saved are distinguished from the lost only by the election of God. Hence, this scheme shows the justice of God to be limited, or not displayed on so grand and imposing a scale as it might have been; that is to say, it shows the justice of God to be less than infinite. But if such be the justice of God, we certainly should not complain that it has been limited by his mercy; we should rather rejoice, indeed, to believe that it had been thereby entirely extinguished.

Notwithstanding the claims of divine justice, all were not reprobated and doomed to eternal death. A certain portion of mankind are elected and saved, "to the praise of his glorious grace." Now, it is conceded by Calvinists, that "all the circumstances which distinguish the elect from others are the fruit of their election."(213) This proposition is deduced by a Calvinistic divine from the "Westminster Confession of Faith." It is also conceded, that if the same grace which is given to the elect, should be bestowed upon the reprobate, they also would be saved.(214) Why, then, is it not bestowed? Why this fearful limitation of the divine mercy? Can the justice of God be manifested only at the expense of his mercy, and his mercy only at the expense of his justice? Or, is the everlasting mercy of God, that sublime attribute which constitutes the excellency and glory of his moral nature, so limited and straitened on all sides, that it merely selects here and there an object of its favour, while it leaves thousands and millions, equally within its reach, exposed to the eternal ravages of the spoiler? If so, then are we bound to conclude, that the mercy of God is not infinite; that it is not only limited, but also partial and arbitrary in its operation? But such is not the mercy of God. This is not a capricious fondness, nor yet an arbitrary dictate of feeling; it is a uniform and universal rule of goodness.

To select one here and there out of the mass of mankind, while others, precisely like them in all respects, are left to perish, is not mercy; it is favouritism. The tyrant may have his favourites as well as others. But God is not a respecter of persons. If he selects one, as the object of his saving mercy, he will select all who stand in the like condition; otherwise, his mercy were no more mercy, but a certain capricious fondness of feeling, unworthy of an earthly monarch, and much more of the august Head and Ruler of the moral universe.

These views and feelings are not peculiar to the opponents of Calvinism. They exist in the bosom of Calvinists themselves; only they are so crushed beneath a system, that they cannot find that freedom of development, nor that fulness of utterance, which so rightfully belongs to them, and which is so essential to their entire healthfulness and beauty.

We shall give only one illustration of the justness of this remark, although we might produce a hundred. After having endeavoured to vindicate the mercy of God, as displayed in the scheme of predestination, Dr. Hill candidly declares: "Still, however, a cloud hangs over the subject; and there is a difficulty in reconciling the mind to a system, which, after laying this foundation, that special grace is necessary to the production of human virtue, adopts as its distinguishing tenet this position, that that grace is denied to many."(215) Notwithstanding his most elaborate defence of predestination, he may well say, that "a cloud still hangs over the subject," and darkens the mercy of God.

Some of the stereotyped attempts of Calvinists to escape from the cloud which hangs over their doctrine are too weak to deserve a serious refutation. We are often asked, for example, if God may not do what he pleases with his own? Most assuredly he may; but does it please him, according to the high supralapsarian notion of Calvin, to create myriads of men and angels, to the end that they may be eternally damned? Does it please him, according even to the sublapsarian scheme, to leave the great mass of mankind in the helpless and forlorn condition in which they were born, without assistance, and then subject them to eternal misery, because they would not render an obedience beyond their power? Truly, the sovereign Creator and Ruler of the world may do what he pleases with his own; but yet we insist, that it is his supremest pleasure to deal with his creatures according to the eternal principles of justice and mercy.

His power is infinite, we admit, nay, we joyfully believe; but yet it is not a power which works according to the lawless pleasure of an unmitigated despot. It moves within a sphere of light and love. God's infinite wisdom and goodness superintend and surround all its workings; otherwise its omnipotent actings would soon carry the goodly frame of the world, together with all the blessed inhabitants thereof, into a state of utter confusion and chaotic night; leaving occasion for none, save the blind idolaters of power, to exclaim, "May he not do what he pleases with his own?"

We are also told, that "God is under no obligation to his creatures." Supposing this to be true, (though true most certainly it is not,) yet does he not owe it to himself—does he not owe it to the eternal principles of truth and goodness—does he not owe it to the glory of his own empire over the world—to deal with his rational and immortal creatures, otherwise than according to the dark scheme of Calvinistic predestination? Nay, is it not due to the creature himself, that he should have some little chance or opportunity to embrace the life which God has set before him? Or, in default of such opportunity, is it not due to him that he should be exempt from the wages of the second death?

Confessing the wisdom and justice of predestination, as maintained by themselves, to be above our comprehension, the Calvinists are accustomed to remind us of the littleness, the weakness, and the blindness of the human mind, and how dangerous it is for beings like ourselves to pry into mysteries. We are aware, indeed, that our faculties are limited on all sides, and that we are exceedingly prone to assume more than belongs to us. We are not sure that the human mind, so little and so assuming, appears to any very great advantage in its advocacy of the Calvinistic scheme of predestination. This scheme is not only found in the ninth chapter of Romans, by a strange misapprehension of the whole scope and design of the apostle's argument, but, after having based it upon this misinterpretation of the divine word, its advocates persist in regarding all opposition to it as an opposition against God. As often as we dispute the doctrine, they cry out, "Nay, but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God?"

This rebuke was well administered by St. Paul. He applied it to those who, understanding his doctrine, did not hesitate to arraign the equity of the divine proceeding in the election of one nation in preference to another to constitute the visible Church on earth. This was not only to reply against God's word, but also against the manifest arrangements and dispensations of his providence. But it is not well applied by Calvinists, unless they possess an infallibility which authorizes them to identify their interpretation of the word of God with the word itself. It is not well applied by them, unless they are authorized to put themselves in the place of God. If they have no right to do this, we must insist upon it that it is one thing to reply against God, and quite another to reply against Calvin and his followers.



Section IV.

The true ground and reason of election to eternal life shows it to be consistent with the infinite goodness of God.

We agree with both Calvinistic and Arminian writers in the position, that no man is elected to eternal life on account of his merits. Indeed, the idea that a human being can merit anything, much less eternal life, of God, is preposterous in the extreme. All his gifts are of pure grace. The creation of the soul with glorious and immortal powers was an act of pure, unmixed favour. The duty of loving and serving him, which we are permitted to enjoy, is an exalted privilege, and should inspire us with gratitude, instead of begetting the miserable conceit that our service, even when most perfect, could deserve anything further from God, or establish any claims upon his justice. This view, which we take to be the true one, as completely shuts out all occasion of boasting as does the scheme of election maintained by the Calvinists.

It is objected, that God did not elect individuals to eternal life, because he foresaw that they would repent and believe; since repentance and faith themselves are the fruits of election. If this objection have any force, we are persuaded that it arises from an improper wording, or presentation, of the truth against which it is directed. We cannot suppose that God elected any one because he foresaw his good works, so as to make election to depend upon them, instead of making them to depend upon election. This does not prevent an individual, however, from having been elected, because God foresaw from all eternity that the influences attending upon his election would, by his own voluntary cooeperation therewith, be rendered effectual to his salvation. This is the ground on which we believe the election of individuals to eternal life to proceed. Accordingly, we suppose that God never selected, or determined to save, any one who he foresaw would not yield to the influences of his grace, provided they should be given. And we also suppose that such is the overflowing goodness of God, that all were elected by him, and had their names written in the book of life, who he foresaw would yield to the influences of his grace, and, by the cooeperation therewith, "make their calling and election sure." This scheme appears to possess the following very great advantages:—

1. It does not give such a pervading energy to the operations of divine grace as to exclude all subordinate moral agency from the world, and destroy the very foundation of man's accountability.

2. It does not weaken the motives to the practice of a virtuous and decent life, by assuring the worst part of mankind that they are just as likely to be made the objects of the saving grace of God as any others. On the contrary, it holds out this terrible warning, that by an obstinate continuance in evil-doing, the wicked may place themselves beyond the effectual influences of divine grace, and set the seal of eternal death to their own souls.

3. It shows the mercy of God to be infinite. No one, except those who place themselves beyond the possibility of salvation by their own evil deeds, is ever lost. Hence, the mercy of God, which takes in all whose salvation is within the range of possibility, appears in full-orbed and unclouded splendour. It could not possibly appear greater, or more beautiful, than as it presents itself to our view in this scheme.

4. It shows the justice of God to be infinite. This, according to the above view, is neither limited by, nor does it limit, the mercy of God. It acts merely upon those who were not, and never could be made, the objects of mercy; and it acts upon these according to the full measure of their ill-desert, as well as according to the exigencies of the moral empire of God. It has no limits, except those which circumscribe and bound the objects of infinite justice.

5. It not only shows the mercy and justice of God to be as great as can possibly be conceived, but it also shows the perfect harmony and agreement which subsists between these sublime attributes of the Divine Being. It marks out and defines the orbit, in which each revolves in all the perfection and plenitude of its glory, without the least clashing or interference with the other.

In conclusion, we would simply ask the candid and impartial reader, Does any dark or perplexing "cloud still hang over the subject?" Is "there a difficulty in reconciling the mind to a system," which exhibits the character of God, and his government of the world, in so pleasing and so advantageous a light? Does not a system, which gives so glad and joyous a response to the demand of God, "Are not my ways equal?" recommend itself to the affections of the pious mind?

It very clearly seems to us, that, strong as are the convictions of Dr. Chalmers in favour of "a rigid and absolute predestination,"(216) his affections cannot always be restrained within the narrow confines of so dark a scheme. His language, in pleading for the universality of the gospel offer, contains, it seems to us, as direct, and pointed, and powerful condemnation of his own scheme as can well be found in the whole range of theological literature. "There must be," says he, "a sad misunderstanding somewhere. The commission put into our hands is to go and preach the gospel to every creature under heaven; and the announcement sounded forth in the world from heaven's vault was, Peace on earth, good-will to men. There is no freezing limitation here, but a largeness and munificence of mercy boundless as space, free and open as the expanse of the firmament. We hope, therefore, the gospel, the real gospel, is as unlike the views of some of its interpreters, as creation, in all its boundless extent and beauty, is unlike the paltry scheme of some wretched scholastic in the middle ages. The middle age of science and civilization is now terminated; but Christianity also had its middle age, and this, perhaps, is not yet fully terminated. There is still a remainder of the old spell, even the spell of human authority, and by which a certain cramp or confinement has been laid on the genius of Christianity. We cannot doubt that the time of its complete emancipation is coming, when it shall break loose from the imprisonment in which it is held; but meanwhile there is, as it were, a stricture upon it, not yet wholly removed, and in virtue of which the largeness and liberality of Heaven's own purposes have been made to descend in partial and scanty droppings through the strainers of an artificial theology, instead of falling, as they ought, in a universal shower upon the world."(217)

Is it possible, that this is the language of a man who believes that Heaven's purposes of mercy descend, not upon all men, but only upon the elect? It is even so. Boundless and beautiful as the goodness of God is in itself; yet, through the strainers of his theology, is it made to descend in partial and scanty droppings merely, and not in one universal shower. It is good-will, not to men, but to the elect. Such is the "chilling limitation," and such the frightful "stricture," on the genius of Christianity, from which, in the fervour of his imagination, the great heart of Chalmers burst into a higher and a more genial element of light and love.

Alas! how sad and how sudden the descent, when in the very next paragraph he says: "The names and number of the saved may have been in the view, nay, even in the design and destination of God from all eternity; and still the distinction is carried into effect, not by means of a gospel addressed partially and exclusively to them, but by means of a gospel addressed generally to all. A partial gospel, in fact, could not have achieved the conversion of the elect:" that is to say, though it was the design and destination of God from all eternity to save only a small portion of those whom he might have saved; yet he made the offer of salvation to all, in order to save the chosen few! And if he had not proclaimed this universal offer, by which "the largeness and munificence" of his mercy are made to appear as "boundless as space," the elect could not have been saved! If so, is it the real goodness of God, then, or merely the appearance of universal goodness, that leadeth men to repentance?

"Any charm," says he, "which there is in Christianity to recall or to regenerate some, lies in those of its overtures which are so framed as to hold out the offered friendship of God to all:"(218) that is, that although God intends and seeks to save only a few, he offers the same salvation to all, to give an efficacious charm to the scheme of redemption! Indeed, if the Calvinistic scheme of an absolute predestination be true, then we admit that there is a charm and a glory in the magnificent delusion, arising from God's offer of friendship to all, which is not to be found in the truth. But that scheme, as we have seen, is not true; and also, that the goodness of God is as boundless and beautiful in reality, as it could possibly be in appearance.

We agree with Dr. Chalmers, that the goodness of God should be viewed, not through the medium of predestination, but as it shines forth in the light of the glorious gospel. We agree with him, that "we ought to proceed on the obvious representations which Scripture gives of the Deity; and these beheld in their own immediate light, untinged by the dogma of predestination. God waiting to be gracious—God not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance—God swearing by himself that he has no pleasure in the death of a sinner, but rather that all should come unto him and live—God beseeching men to enter into reconciliation, and this not as elect, but simply and generally as men and sinners;—these are the attitudes in which the Father of the human family sets himself forth unto the world—these the terms in which he speaks to us from heaven." It is precisely in this sublime attitude, and in this transporting light, that we rejoice to contemplate the Father of mercies; and this view, it must be confessed, is wholly "untinged with the dogma of predestination."



Conclusion.

A SUMMARY VIEW OF THE PRINCIPLES AND ADVANTAGES OF THE FOREGOING SYSTEM.

There is a lamp within the lofty dome Of the dim world, whose radiance clear doth show Its awful beauty; and, through the wide gloom, Make all its obscure mystic symbols glow With pleasing light,—that we may see and know The glorious world, and all its wondrous scheme; Not as distorted in the mind below, Nor in philosopher's, nor poet's dream, But as it was, and is, high in the Mind Supreme.—ANON.



Chapter I.

Summary Of The First Part Of The Foregoing System.

The commonly received systems of theology are, it is confessed by their advocates, attended with manifold inconveniences and difficulties. The habit of mind by which, notwithstanding such difficulties, it clings to the great truths of those systems, is worthy of all admiration, and forms one of the best guarantees of the stability and progress of human knowledge. For in every department of science the great truths which dawn upon the mind are usually attended with a cloud of difficulties, and, but for the habit in question, they would soon be permitted to fade away, and be lost in their original obscurity. Copernicus has, therefore, been justly applauded,(219) not only for conceiving, but for firmly grasping the heliocentric theory of the world, notwithstanding the many formidable objections which it had to encounter in his own mind. Even the sublime law of the material universe, before it finally established itself in the mind of Newton, more than once fell, in its struggles for acceptance, beneath the apparently insuperable objections by which it was attended; and, after all, the overpowering evidence which caused it to be embraced, still left it surrounded by an immense penumbra of difficulties. These, together with the sublime truth, he bequeathed to his successors. They have retained the truth, and removed the difficulties. In like manner, admirable though the habit of clinging to every sufficiently accredited truth may be, yet, whether in the physical or in the moral sciences, the effort to disencumber the truth of the difficulties by which its progress is embarrassed should never be remitted. The scientific impulse, by which a great truth is grasped, and established upon its own appropriate evidence, should ever be followed by the subordinate movement, which strives to remove every obstacle out of the way, and cause it to secure a wider and a brighter dominion in the human mind. And in proportion as any scheme, whether in relation to natural or to divine things, shall, without a sacrifice or mutilation of the truth, divest itself of the darkness which must ever accompany all one-sided and partial views, will it possess a decided advantage and superiority over other systems. Since this general principle will not be denied, let us proceed, in conclusion, to take a brief survey of the foregoing scheme of doctrine, and determine, if we can, whether to any truth it has given any such advantage.

It clearly seems free from the stupendous cloud of difficulties that overhang that view of the moral universe which supposes its entire constitution and government to be in accordance with the scheme of necessity. These difficulties pertain, first, to the responsibility of man; secondly, to the purity of God; and, thirdly, to the reality of moral distinctions. These three several branches of the difficulty in question have been respectively considered in the first three chapters of the first part of the present work; and we shall now briefly recapitulate the views therein presented, in the three following sections.



Section I.

The scheme of necessity denies that man is the responsible author of sin.

If, according to this scheme, all things in heaven and earth, the volitions of the human mind not excepted, be under the dominion of necessitating causes, then may we well ask, How can man be a free and responsible agent? To this inquiry the most illustrious advocates of the scheme in question have not been able to return a coherent or satisfactory reply. After the search of ages, and the joint labour of all their gigantic intellects, they have found no position in their system on which the freedom of the human mind may be securely planted. The position set up for this purpose by one is pulled down by another, who, in his turn, indicates some other position only to be demolished by some other advocate of his own scheme. The more we look into their writings on this subject, the more irreconcilable seems the conflict of opinion in which they are among themselves involved. The more closely we contemplate the labour of their hands, the more clearly we perceive that all their attempts, in opposition to the voice of heaven and earth, to rear the great metaphysical tower of necessity, have only ended in an utter confusion of tongues. So far, indeed, are they from having found and presented any such view of the freedom and responsibility of man, as shall, by the intrinsic and overpowering lustre of its evidence, stand some chance to disarm the enemies of God, that they have not even found one in which they themselves can rest. The school of the necessitarian is, in reality, a house divided against itself; and that, too, in regard to the most vital and fundamental point of its philosophy.

There seems to be one exception to the truth of this general remark: for there is one scheme or definition of liberty, in which many, if not most, of the advocates of necessity have concurred; that is, the definition of Hobbes. As the current of a river, says he, is free to flow down its channel, provided there be no obstruction in the way; so the human will, though compelled to act by causes over which it has no control, is free, provided there be no external impediment to prevent its volition from passing into effect. This idea of the freedom of the will, though much older than Hobbes, is primarily indebted to his influence for its prevalence in modern times; for it descended from Hobbes to Locke, from Locke to Edwards, and from Edwards to the modern school of Calvinistic divines.

No matter how we come by our volitions, says Edwards, yet are we perfectly free when there is no external impediment to hinder our volitions from passing into effect: that is to say, though our volitions be absolutely produced by the divine omnipotence itself, or in any other way; yet is the will free, provided no external cause interpose to prevent its volition from moving the body. According to this definition of the liberty of the will, it is not a property of the soul at all, but only an accidental circumstance or condition of the body. In the significant language of Leibnitz, it is not the freedom of the mind; it is merely "elbow-room." It consists not in an attribute, or property, or power of the soul, but only in the external opportunity which its necessitated volitions may have to necessitate an effect. We ask, How can the mind be free? and they tell us, When the body may be so! We inquire about an attribute of the spiritual principle within, and they turn us off with an answer respecting an accident of the material principle without! An ignoratio elenchi more flagrant—a mistaking of the question more palpable—it is surely not possible to conceive. Yet this definition of the freedom of the will, though so superficially false, is precisely that which has found the most general acceptance among necessitarians. Though vehemently condemned by Calvin himself, unanswerably refuted by Leibnitz, sneered at by Edwards the younger, and pronounced utterly inadequate by Dr. John Dick; yet, as we have seen, is it now held up as "the Calvinistic idea of the freedom of the will."

We do not wonder that such a definition of free-will should have been adopted by atheizing philosophers, such as Hume and Hobbes, for example; because we cannot suppose them to have been penetrated with any very profound design to uphold the cause of human responsibility, or to vindicate the immaculate purity of the divine glory. But that it should have been accepted with such unquestioning simplicity by a large body of Christian divines, having the great interests of the moral world at heart, is, we cannot but think, a sufficient ground for the most profound astonishment and regret; for, surely, to plant the great cause of human responsibility on a foundation so slender, on a fallacy so palpable, on a position so utterly untenable, is to expose it to the victorious assaults of its weakest enemy and invader.



Section II.

The scheme of necessity makes God the author of sin.

The necessitarian, in his attempts to vindicate the purity of God, has not been more successful than in his endeavours to establish the freedom and accountability of man. If, according to his scheme, the Supreme Ruler of the world be the primal cause of all things, the volitions of men included; it certainly seems exceedingly difficult to conceive, that he is not implicated in the sin of the world. And this difficulty, so appalling at first view, remains just as great after all that the most enlightened advocates of that scheme have advanced as it was before.

We have witnessed the efforts of a Leibnitz, an Edwards, and a Chalmers, to repel this objection to the scheme of necessity; and if we mistake not, we have seen how utterly ineffectual they have proved to break its force, or resist its influence. The sum and substance of that defence is, as we have seen, that God may do evil that good may come; a defence which, instead of vindicating the purity of the divine proceeding, represents it as having been governed by the most corrupt maxim of the most corrupt system of casuistry the world has ever seen. It darkens, rather than illuminates, that profound and portentous obscurity of the system of the world, arising from the origin and existence of moral evil. So far from removing the difficulty from their scheme, they have only illustrated its force by the ineffable weakness of the means and methods which that scheme has necessitated them to employ for its destruction.



Section III.

The scheme of necessity denies the reality of moral distinctions.

For, if all things in the world, the acts of the will not excepted, be produced by an extraneous agency, it seems clear that it is absurd to attach praise or blame to men on account of their volitions. Nothing appears more self-evident than the position, that whatever is thus produced in us can neither be our virtue nor our vice. The advocates of necessity, at least those of them who do not admit the inference in question, invoke the aid of logic to extinguish the light of the principle on which it is based. But where have they found, or where can they find, a principle more clear, more simple, or more unquestionable on which to ground their arguments? Where, in the whole armory of logic, can be found a principle more unquestionable than this, that no man can be to praise or to blame for that which is produced in him, by causes over which he had no control?

We have examined those arguments in detail, and exhibited the principles on which they proceed. Those principles, instead of being of such a nature as to subserve the purposes of valid argument, are either insignificant truisms which prove nothing, or else they reach the point in dispute only by means of an ambiguity of words. Of the first description is the celebrated maxim of Edwards, that the essence of virtue and vice consists in their nature, and not in their cause. By which he means, that no matter how we come by our virtue and vice, though they be produced in us according to the scheme of necessity, yet are they our virtue and vice. If a horse should fall from the moon, it would be a horse: for no matter where it comes from, a horse is a horse; or, more scientifically expressed, the essence of a horse consists in the nature of a horse, and not in its origin or cause. All this is very true. But then, we no more believe that horses fall from the moon, than we do that virtue and vice are produced according to the scheme of necessity.

Of the last description is that other maxim of Edwards, that men are adjudged virtuous or vicious on account of actions proceeding from the will, without considering how they come by their volition. True, we may judge of external actions according as their origin is in the will or otherwise, without considering how its volitions come to pass; but then this is because we proceed on the tacit assumption that the will is free, and not under the dominion of necessitating causes. But the question relates, not to external actions or movements of the body, but to the volitions of the mind itself. And this being the case, it does make a vast difference in our estimate, whether we consider those volitions as coming to pass freely; or whether, according to the scheme of necessity, we regard them as being produced by the operation of causes over which we have no control. In this case, it is impossible for the human mind to attach praise or blame to them, or view them as constituting either virtue or vice. For nothing can be plainer than the position, that if anything in us be produced by the mighty and irresistible operation of an extraneous agency, it can neither be our virtue nor vice. This principle is so clear, that logic can neither add to nor detract from the intrinsic lustre of its evidence. And all the cloudy sophistications of an Edwards, ingenious as they are, can obscure it only to the minds of those who have not sufficient penetration to see through the nature of his arguments.

At this point, then, as well as at others, the scheme of necessity, instead of clearing up the old, has introduced new difficulties into the system of the world. Instead of diffusing light, it has actually extended the empire of darkness, by investing in the clouds and mists of its own raising, some of the brightest elements which enter into its organization. By scholastic refinements and sophistical devices, it has sought to overturn and destroy, not the elements of error and confusion, but some of the clearest and most indestructible intuitional convictions of the human head and heart.

But great as these difficulties are, we may still be asked to embrace the scheme from which they flow, on the ground that it is true. Indeed, this is the course pursued by some of the most enlightened Calvinistic necessitarians of the present day. Freely admitting that all the attempts of Leibnitz, of Edwards, and others, to bring the scheme of necessity into an agreement with the dictates of reason, have left its stupendous difficulties pretty much where they found them—wrapped in impenetrable gloom; they nevertheless maintain this scheme, and propose it to our acceptance, on the sole and sufficient ground of its evidence. If we may judge from those of their writings which we have seen, this course of proceeding is getting to be very much the fashion among the Calvinists of the present day; and they have a great deal to say in praise of simply adhering to the truth, without being over-solicitous about its difficulties, or paying too much attention to them. That man, say they, is in imminent danger of heresy who, instead of receiving the truth with the simplicity of a little child, goes about to worry himself with its difficulties. He walks in dark and slippery places. We agree with them in this, and commend their wisdom: for it presents the only chance which their system has of retaining its hold on the human mind. But before accepting this scheme on the ground of its evidence, we have deemed it prudent to look into the very interior of the scheme itself, and weigh the evidence on which it is so confidently recommended.



Section IV.

The moral world not constituted according to the scheme of necessity.

In the prosecution of this inquiry, we have appeared to ourselves to find, that this boasted scheme of necessity is neither more nor less than one grand tissue of sophisms. We have found, we believe, that this huge imposition on the reason of man is a vile congregation of pestilential errors, through which, if the glory of God and his marvellous ways be contemplated, they must appear most horribly distorted. We have found that this scheme is as weak and crazy in the mechanism of its internal structure as it is frightful in its consequences. Instead of that closely articulated body of thought, which we were led to expect therein, we have found little more than a jumble of incoherences, a semi-chaotic mass of plausible blunders. We have seen and shown, we trust, that this grand and imposing scheme of necessity is, in reality, based on a false psychology,—directed against a false issue,—supported by false logic,—fortified by false conceptions,—recommended by false analogies,—and rendered plausible by a false phraseology. And, besides, we have ascertained that it originates in a false method, and terminates in a false religion. As such, we deem it far better adapted to represent the little, narrow, dark, crooked, and perverted world within, than the great and all-glorious world of God without. So have we not spared its deformities.



Section V.

The relation between the human agency and the divine.

Having got rid of the scheme of necessity, which opposed so many obstacles to the prosecution of our design, we were then prepared to investigate the great problem of evil: but, before entering on this subject, we paused to consider the difficulty which, in all ages, the human mind has found in attempting to reconcile the influence of the Divine Spirit with the freedom of the will. In regard to this difficulty, it has been made to appear, we trust, that we need not understand how the Spirit of God acts, in order to reconcile his influence with the free-agency of man. We need to know, not how the one Spirit acts on the other, but only what is done by each, in order to see a perfect agreement and harmony in their cooeperation. The inquiry relates, then, to the precise thing done by each, and not to the modus operandi. Having, in opposition to the commonly received notion, ascertained this to be the difficulty, we have found it comparatively easy of solution.

For the improved psychology of the present day, which gives so clear and steady a view of the simple facts of consciousness, has enabled us to see what may, and what may not, be produced by an extraneous agency. This again has enabled us to make out and define the sphere of the divine power, as well as that of the human; and to determine the point at which they come into contact, without interfering with or intersecting each other.

The same means have also shown us, that the opposite errors of Pelagianism and Augustinism have a common root in a false psychology. The psychology of the past, which identifies the passive states of the sensibility with the active states of the will, is common to both of these schemes. From this common root the two doctrines branch out in opposite directions; the one on the side of the mind's activity, and the other on that of its passivity. Each perceives only one phase of the complex whole, and denies the reality of the other. With one, the active phase is the whole; with the other, the passive impression is the whole. Hence the one recognises the human power alone; while the other causes this power entirely to disappear beneath the overshadowing influence of the divine.

Now the foregoing system, by availing itself of the psychology of the present day, not only does not cause the one of these great facts to exclude the other, but, by showing their logical coherency and agreement, it removes the temptation that the speculative reason has ever felt to do such violence to the cause of truth. It embraces the half views of both schemes, and moulds them into one great and full-orbed truth. In the great theandric work of regeneration, in particular, it neither causes the human element to exclude the divine, nor the divine to swallow up the human; but preserves each in its integrity, and both in their harmonious union and cooeperation. The mutual inter-dependency, and the undisturbed inter-working, of these all-important elements of the moral world, it aims to place on a firm basis, and exhibit in a clear light. If this object has been accomplished, though but in part, or by way of a first approximation only, it will be conceded to be no small gain, or advantage, to the cause of truth.



Section VI.

The existence of moral evil consistent with the infinite purity of God.

The relation of the foregoing treatise to the great problem of the spiritual world, concerning the origin and existence of evil, may be easily indicated, and the solution it proposes distinguished from that of others. This may be best done, perhaps, with the aid of logical forms.

The world, created by an infinitely perfect Being, says the sceptic, must needs be the best of all possible worlds: but the actual world is not the best of all possible worlds: therefore it was not created by an infinitely perfect Being. Now, in replying to this argument, no theist denies the major premiss. All have conceded, that the idea of an infinitely perfect Being necessarily implies the existence and preservation of the greatest possible perfection in the created universe. In the two celebrated works of M. Leibnitz and Archbishop King, both put forth in reply to Bayle, this admission is repeatedly and distinctly made. This seems to have been rightly done; for, in the language of Cudworth, "To believe a God, is to believe the existence of all possible good and perfection in the universe."(220)

In this, says Leibnitz, is embosomed all possible good. But how is this point established? "We judge from the event itself," says he; "since God has made it, it was not possible to have made a better."(221) But this is the language of faith, and not of reason. As an argument addressed to the sceptic, it is radically unsound; for as a medium of proof, it employs the very thing in dispute, namely, that God is infinitely perfect. Hence this is a petitio principii, a begging of the question. If this were all that M. Leibnitz had to offer, he might as well have believed, and remained silent.

But this was not all. He endeavours to show, that the world is absolutely perfect, without inferring its perfection from the assumed infinite perfection of its Author. At first view, this does not appear to be so; for the sin and misery which overflow this lower part of the world seem to detract from the perfection and beauty of the whole. Not so, says Leibnitz: "there are some disorders in the parts, which marvellously heighten the beauty of the whole; as certain discords, skilfully employed, render the harmony more exquisite."(222) Considered as an argument, this is likewise quite unsatisfactory. It is, in fact, merely the light of the imagination, playing over the bosom of the cloud; not the concentrated blaze of the intelligence, dispelling its gloom. And besides, this analogy proceeds on a false principle; inasmuch as it supposes that God has himself introduced sin into the world, with a view to its happy effects. We could sooner believe, indeed, that the principle of evil had introduced harmony into the world in order to heighten the frightful effects of its discord, than that the principle of all good had produced the frightful discord of the world, in order to enhance the effects of its harmony. But we shall let all such fine sayings pass. Perhaps they were intended as the ornaments of faith, rather than as the radiant armour and the invincible weapons of reason.

Though Leibnitz frequently insists, that "the permission of evil tends to the good of the universe,"(223) he does not always seem to mean that evil would be better than holiness in its stead; but that the permission of sin is not so great an inconvenience as would be its universal prevention. "We ought to say," says he, "that God permits sin, because otherwise he would himself do a worse action (une action pire) than all the sin of his creatures."(224) But what is this worse, this more unreasonable action of which God would be guilty, if he should prevent all sin? One bad feature thereof would be, according to Leibnitz, that it would interfere with the freedom of the will. In his "Abrege de la Controverse," he says: "We have added, after many good authors, that it is in conformity with the general order and good, for God to leave to certain creatures an occasion for the exercise of their liberty." This argument comes with a bad grace from one who has already denied the liberty of the will; and, indeed, from the very form of his expression, Leibnitz seems to have adopted it from authority, rather than from a perception of any support it derives from his own principles. He asserts the freedom of the will, it is true, but he does this, as we have seen, only in opposition to the "absolute necessity" of Hobbes and Spinoza; according to whom nothing in the universe could possibly have been otherwise than it is. In his "Reflexions sur le Livre de Hobbes," he says, that although the will is determined in all cases by the divine omnipotence, yet is it free from an absolute or mathematical necessity, "because the contrary volition might happen without implying a contradiction." True, the contrary volition might happen without implying a contradiction; for God himself might cause it to exist. And if, by his almighty and irresistible power, he should cause it to exist, the will would still be free in Leibnitz's sense of the word; since its contrary might have happened. Hence, according to this definition of liberty, if God should, in all cases, determine the will to good, it would nevertheless be free; since the contrary determination might have been produced by his power. In other words, if such be the liberty of the will, no operation of the Almighty could possibly interfere therewith; as no volition produced by him would have rendered it impossible for him to have caused the opposite volition, if he had so chosen and exerted his omnipotence for that purpose. This defence of the divine procedure, then, has no foundation in the scheme of Leibnitz; and the only thing he can say in its favour is, that after the authority "of many good authors," we have added it to our own views.

Archbishop King, too, as is well known, assumes the ground that God permits sin, on account of the greater inconvenience that would result to the world from an interference with the freedom of the will. But so extravagant are his views respecting this freedom, that the position in question is one of the weakest parts of his system. The mind chooses objects, says he, not because they please it; but they are agreeable and pleasant to the mind, because it chooses them. Surely, such a liberty as this, consisting in a mere arbitrary or capricious movement of the soul, that owns not the guidance of reason, or wisdom, or anything apparently good, cannot possess so great a value that the moral good of the universe should be permitted to suffer, rather than that it should be interfered with or restrained.

But these are merely argumenta ad hominem. There are "many good authors" who, although they maintain neither of the above views of liberty, insist that it is better for God to permit sin, than to interfere with the freedom of his creatures. But is it clear, that greater inconveniences would have arisen from such an interference, than from the frightful reign of all the sin and misery that have afflicted the world? If God can so easily prevent all sin, and secure all holiness, by restraining the liberty of his creatures, is it clear, that in preferring their unrestrained freedom to the highest moral good of the universe, he makes a choice worthy of his infinite wisdom? In other words, is it not more desirable that moral evil should everywhere disappear, and the beauty of holiness everywhere shine forth, than that the creature should be left to abuse his liberty by the introduction of sin and death into the world? Besides, it is admitted by all the authors in question, that God sometimes interposes the arm of his omnipotence, in order to the production of holiness. Now, in such an exertion of his power, he either interferes with the freedom of the creature, or he does not. If he does not interfere with that freedom, why may he not produce holiness in other cases also, without any such interference? And if, in some cases, he does interfere therewith, in order to secure the holiness of his creatures, why should he not, in all cases, prefer their highest moral good to so fatal an abuse of their prerogatives? Is his proceeding therein merely arbitrary and capricious, or is it governed by the best of reasons? Undoubtedly by the best of reasons, say all the authors in question: but then, when we come to this point of the inquiry, they always tell us, that those reasons are profoundly concealed in the unsearchable depths of the divine wisdom; that is to say, they believe them to be the best, not because they have seen and considered them, but because they are the reasons of an infinitely perfect mind. Now, all this is very well; but it is not to the purpose. It is to retire from the arena of logic, and fall back on the very point in dispute for support. It is not to argue; it is simply to drop the weapons of our warfare, and oppose the shield of faith to the shafts of the adversary.

It is also contended by Leibnitz and King, as well as many other good authors, that there is an established order, or system of laws, in the government of the world; into which so great a confusion would be introduced by the interposition of divine power to prevent all sin, that some had better be permitted. This, which Leibnitz so positively asserts, is thrown out as a conjecture by Bishop Butler.(225) But in the present controversy, it is not to the point. For here the question is concerning the order and government of the moral world itself. And this being the question, it is not admissible for one of the parties to say, that the proposed plan for the government of the world is not the best, because it would interfere with and disturb the arrangements of that which is established. This is clearly to beg the question. It is to assume that the established method is the best, and therefore should not have been superseded by another; but this is the very point in dispute.

The truth is, that the theist has assailed the sceptic in his strong and impregnable point, and left the vulnerable part of his system untouched. This may be easily seen. The objection of the sceptic is thus stated by Leibnitz: Whoever can prevent the sin of another, and does not, but rather contributes to it by his concourse and by the occasions he gives rise to, though he possesses a perfect knowledge, is an accomplice. God can prevent the sin of his intelligent creatures: but he does it not, though his knowledge be perfect, and contributes to it by his concourse and the occasions to which he gives rise: therefore he is an accomplice. Now Leibnitz admits the minor, and denies the major, premiss of this argument. He should have done the contrary. For, admitting that God might easily prevent sin, and cause holiness to reign universally, what had he left to oppose to the attacks of the sceptic but the shield of faith? He might say, indeed, as he often does, that God voluntarily permits sin, because it is a part and parcel of the best possible universe. But how easy for the sceptic to demand, What good purpose does it answer? Can it add to the holiness or happiness of the universe? Cannot these high ends, these glorious purposes of the Divine Being, be as well attained by the universal rectitude and purity of his creatures, as by any other means? Cannot the Supreme Ruler of the world, in the resources of his infinite mind, bring as much good out of holiness as can be brought out of sin? And if so, why permit sin in order to the good of the creation? Are not the perfect holiness and happiness of each and every part of the moral world better for each and every part thereof than are their contraries? And if so, are they not better for the whole? By this reply, the theist is, in our opinion, disarmed, and the sceptic victorious. Hence we say, that the former should have conceded the major, and denied the minor, premiss of the above argument; that is, he should have admitted, that whoever can prevent the sin of another, but, instead of so doing, contributes to it by his concourse, is an accomplice: and he should have denied that God, being able to produce holiness in the place of sin, both permits and contributes to the reign of the latter in his dominions. The theist should have denied this, we say, if he would have raised the ever-blessed God above all contact with sin, and placed his cause upon high and impregnable ground, far above the attacks of the sceptic. But as it is, he has placed that cause upon false grounds, and thereby exposed it to the successful shafts of the adversary.

Another reason assigned by Leibnitz(226) and King(227) for the permission of moral evil is, that if God should interpose to prevent it, this would be to work a constant and universal miracle. But if such a thing were possible, why should he not work such a miracle? By these authors themselves it is conceded, that the Almighty often works a miracle for the production of moral good; and, this being the case, why should he not exhibit this miracle on the most grand and magnificent scale of which it is possible to conceive? In other words, why should he not render it worthy of his infinite wisdom, and power, and goodness? Is it not by a like miracle, by a like universal interposition of his power, that the majestic fabric of the material globe is upheld, and the sublime movement of all its countless orbs continually carried on? And if so, are not the order and harmony of the moral universe as worthy such an exercise of his omnipotence as are the regularity and beauty of the material? We defend the Divine Author and Preserver of all things on no such grounds. We say that a universal holiness is not produced by the omnipresent energy of his power, not because this would be to work a miracle, but because it would be to work a contradiction.

But we are becoming weary of such replies. The very question is, Why is there not a universal interposition of the divine power? and the reply, Because this would be a universal interposition of the divine power! What is all this but a grand attempt to solve the awful mystery of the world, which ends in the assurance that God does not universally interpose to prevent sin, because he does not universally interpose to prevent it? Or, in fewer words, that he does not, because he does not?

Since sin exists, says the sceptic, it follows that God is either unable or unwilling to prevent it. "Able, but unwilling," replies the theist. Such is the answer which has come down to us from the earliest times; from a Lactantius to a Leibnitz, and from a Leibnitz to a M'Cosh. No wonder that in all this time they have not been able to find the reason why God is unwilling to prevent sin; since, in truth and reality, he is infinitely more than willing to do so.

But, saying that he is willing, shall we concede that he is unable? By no means: for such language implies that the power of God is limited, and he is omnipotent. We choose to impale ourselves upon neither horn of the dilemma. We are content to leave M. Bayle upon the one, and M. Voltaire upon the other, while we bestow our company elsewhere. In plain English, we neither reply unwilling nor unable.

We do say, however, that although God is infinitely willing to secure the existence of universal holiness, to the exclusion of all sin, yet such a thing is not an object of power, and therefore cannot be produced by omnipotence itself. The production of holiness by the application of power is, as we have seen, an absurd and impossible conceit, which may exist in the brain of man, but which can never be embodied in the fair and orderly creation of God. It can no more be realized by the Divine Omnipotence than a mathematical absurdity can be caused to be true.

Hence, we no longer ask why God permits sin. This were to seek a ground and reason of that which has no existence, except in the imagination of man. God does not permit sin. He chooses it not, and he permits it not, as an essential part of the best possible universe. Sin is that which his soul abhors, and which all the perfections of his nature, his infinite power and wisdom, no less than his holiness, are pledged to wipe out from the face of his creation. He does not cause, he does not tolerate sin, on account of its happy effects, or on account of the uses to which it may be turned. The only word he has for such a thing is woe; and the only attitude he bears toward it is one of eternal and inexorable vengeance. All the schemes of men make light of sin; but God is in earnest, infinitely and immutably in earnest, in the purpose to root out and destroy the odious thing, that it may have no place amid the glory of his dominions.

As sin did not originate by his permission, so it does not continue by his sufferance. He permits it, indeed, in that he permits the existence of beings capable of sinning; and he permits the existence of such beings in the very act of permitting the existence of those who are capable of knowing, and loving, and serving him. An infinitely good Being, says M. Bayle, would not have conferred on his creature the fatal power to do evil. But he did not reflect that a power to do good is, ex necessitate rei, a power to do evil. Surely, a good Being would bestow on his creature the power to do good—the power to become like himself, and to partake of the incommunicable blessedness of a holy will. But if he would bestow this, he would certainly confer power to do evil; for the one is identical with the other. And sin has arisen, not from any power conferred for that purpose, but from that which constitutes the brightest element in the sublime structure and glory of the moral world. It arises, not from any imperfection in the work of God, but from that without which it would have been infinitely less than perfect.

"All divines admit," says Bayle, "that God can infallibly produce a good act of the will in a human soul without depriving it of the use of liberty."(228) This is no longer admitted. We call it in question. We deny that such an act can be produced, either with or without depriving the soul of liberty. We deny that it can be produced at all: for whatever God may produce in the human soul, this is not, this cannot be, the moral goodness or virtue of the soul in which it is produced. In other words, it is not, and it cannot be, an object of praise or of moral approbation in him in whom it is thus caused to exist. His virtue or moral goodness can exist only by reason, and in case of an exercise of his own will. It can no more be the effect of an extraneous force than two and two can be made equal to five.

In conclusion, the plain truth is, that the actual universe is not in the best of all possible conditions; for we might conceive it to be better than it is. If there were no sin and no suffering, but everywhere a purity and bliss as great as it is possible to conceive, this would be a vast improvement in the actual state of the universe. Such is the magnificent dream of the sceptic; and, as we have seen, it is not without truth and justice that he thus dreams. But with this dream of his, magnificent as it is, there is connected another which is infinitely false: for he imagines that the sublime spectacle of a world without sin, that the beatific vision of a universe robed in stainless splendour might have been realized by the Divine Omnipotence; whereas, this could have been realized only by the universal and continued cooeperation of the whole intelligent creation with the grand design of God. On the other hand, the theist, by conceding the error and contesting the truth of the sceptic, has inextricably entangled himself in the toils of the adversary.

The only remaining question which the sceptic has to ask is, that since God might have prevented moral evil by the creation of no beings who he foresaw would sin, why did he create such beings? Why did he not leave all such uncreated, and call into existence only such as he foreknew would obey his law, and become like himself in purity and bliss? This question has been fully answered both from reason and revelation. We have shown that the highest good of the universe required the creation of such beings. We have shown that it is by his dealings with the sinner that the foundation of his spiritual empire is secured, and its boundaries enlarged. In particular, we have shown, from revelation, that it is by the redemption of a fallen world that all unfallen worlds are preserved in their allegiance to his throne, and kept warm in the bosom of his blessedness.

If the sceptic should complain that this is to meet him, not with weapons drawn from the armory of reason, but from that of revelation, our reply is at hand: he has no longer anything left to be met. His argument, which assumes that a Being of infinite power could easily cause holiness to exist, has been shown to be false. This very assumption, this major premiss, which has been so long conceded to him, has been taken out of his hands, and demolished. Hence, we do not oppose the shield of faith to his argument; we hold it in triumph over his exploded sophism. We merely recall our faith, and exult in the divine glory which it so magnificently brings to view, and against which his once blind and blundering reason has now no more to say.



Chapter II.

Summary Of The Second Part Of The Foregoing System.

Having reconciled the existence of sin with the purity of God, and refuted the objections against the principles on which that reconciliation is based, we next proceeded to the second part of the work, in which the natural evil, or suffering, that afflicts humanity, is shown to be consistent with his goodness. This part consists of five chapters, of whose leading principles and position we shall now proceed to take a rapid survey in the remaining sections of the present chapter.



Section I.

God desires the salvation of all men.

The fact that all men are not saved, at first view, seems inconsistent with the goodness of the Divine Being, and the sincerity of his endeavours for their conversion. We naturally ask, that if God could so easily cause all men to turn and live, why should he in vain call upon them to do so? Is he really sincere in the use of means for the salvation of all, since he permits so many to hold out in their rebellion and perish? In other words, if he really and sincerely seeks the salvation of all, why are not all saved? This is confessedly one of the most perplexing and confounding difficulties which attach to the commonly received systems of theology. It constitutes one of those profound obscurities from which, it is admitted, theology has not been able to extricate itself, and come out into the clear light of the divine glory.

By many theologians this difficulty, instead of being solved, is most fearfully aggravated. Luther, for example, finds it so great, that he denies the sincerity of God in calling upon sinners to forsake their evil ways and live; and that, as addressed to the finally impenitent, his language is that of mockery and scorn. And Calvin imagines that such exhortations, as well as the other means of grace offered to all, are designed, not for the real conversion of those who shall finally perish, but to enhance their guilt, and overwhelm them in the more fearful condemnation. If it were possible to go even one step beyond such doctrines, that step is taken by President Edwards: for he is so far from supposing that God really intends to lead all men into a conformity with his revealed will, that he contends that God possesses another and a secret will by which, for some good purpose, he chooses their sin, and infallibly brings it to pass. If any mind be not appalled by such doctrines, and chilled with horror, surely nothing can be too monstrous for its credulity, provided only it relate to the divine sovereignty.

The Arminian with indignation rejects such views of the divine glory. But does he escape the great difficulty in question? If God forms the design, says he, not to save all men, he is not infinitely good; but yet he admits that God actually refuses to save some. Now, what difference can it make whether God's intention not to save all be evidenced by a preexisting design, or by a present reality? Is not everything that is done by him, or left undone, in pursuance of his eternal purpose and design? What, then, in reference to the point in question, is the difference between the Arminian and the Calvinist? Both admit that God could easily save all men if he would; that is, render all men holy and happy. But the one says that he did not design to save all, while the other affirms that he actually refuses to save some. Surely, if we may assume what is conceded by both parties, the infinite goodness of God is no more disproved by a scheme of salvation limited in its design, than by a scheme of salvation limited in its execution. Hence, it is admitted by many Arminians themselves, that their own scheme merely mitigates and softens down, without removing, the appalling difficulty in question.

There are many exceptions to this remark. One of the most memorable of these is the judgment which Robert Hall(229) pronounces concerning the solution of this difficulty by the "Wonderful Howe." This solution, as we have seen, labours under the same defect with those of its predecessors, in that it rejects the truth that a necessary holiness is a contradiction in terms. Instead of following the guidance of this truth, he wanders amid the obscurities of the subject, becomes involved in numerous self-contradictions, and is misled by the deceitful light of false analogies.

We shall not here reproduce his inconsistencies and self-contradictions. We shall simply add, that although he, too, attempts to show why it is for the best that all should not be saved, he frequently betrays the feeble and unsatisfactory nature of the impression which his own reasons made upon his mind. For the light of these reasons soon fades from his recollection; and, like all who have gone before him, when he comes to contemplate the subject from another point of view, he declares that the reasons of the thing he has endeavoured to explain, are hid from the human mind in the profound depths of the divine wisdom.

If we would realize, then, that God sincerely desires the salvation of all men, we must plant ourselves on the truth, that holiness, which is of the very essence of salvation, cannot be wrought in us by an extraneous force. It is under the guidance of this principle, and of this principle alone, that we can find our way out from the dark labyrinth of error and self-contradiction, in which others are involved, into the clear and beautiful light of the gospel, that God "will have all men to be saved, and come unto a knowledge of the truth." It is with the aid of this principle, and of this alone, that we may hear the sublime teachings of the divine wisdom, unmingled with the discordant sounds of human folly.



Section II.

The sufferings of the innocent, and especially of infants, consistent with the goodness of God.

By the Calvinistic school of divines it is most positively and peremptorily pronounced that the innocent can never suffer under the administration of a Being of infinite goodness. They cannot possibly allow that such a Being would permit one of his innocent creatures to suffer; but they can very well believe that he can permit them both to sin and to suffer. Is not this to strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel?

Having predetermined that the innocent never suffer, they have felt the necessity of finding some sin in infants, by which their sufferings might be shown to be deserved, and thereby reconciled with the divine goodness. This has proved a hard task. From the time of Augustine down to the present day, it has been diligently prosecuted; and with what success, we have endeavoured to show. The series of hypotheses to which this effort has given rise, are, perhaps, as wild and wonderful as any to be found in the history of the human mind. We need not again recount those dark dreams and inventions in the past history of Calvinism. Perhaps the hypothesis of the present day, by which it endeavours to vindicate the suffering of infants, will seem scarcely less astonishing to posterity, than those exploded fictions of the past appear to this generation.

According to this hypothesis, the infant world deserves to suffer, because the sin of Adam, their federal head and representative, is imputed to them. It is even contended that this constitution, by which the guilt or innocence of the world was suspended on the conduct of the first man, is a bright display of the divine goodness, since it was so likely to be attended with a happy issue to the human race. Likely to be attended with a happy issue! And did not the Almighty foresee and know, that if the guilt of the world were made to depend on the conduct of Adam, it would infallibly be attended with a fatal result?

We have examined, at length, the arguments of an Edwards to show that such a divine scheme and constitution of things is a display or manifestation of goodness. Those arguments are, perhaps, as ingenious and plausible as it is possible for the human intellect to invent in the defence of such a cause. When closely examined and searched to the bottom, they certainly appear as puerile and weak as it is possible for the human imagination to conceive.

Indeed, no coherent hypothesis can be invented on this subject, so long as the mind of the inventor fails to recognise the impossibility of excluding all sin from the moral system of the universe: for if all sin, then all suffering, likewise, may be excluded; and we can never understand why either should be permitted; much less can we comprehend why the innocent should be allowed to suffer. But having recognised this impossibility, we have been conducted to three grounds, on which, it is believed, the sufferings of the innocent may be reconciled with the goodness of God.

First, the sufferings of the innocent, in so far as they are the consequences of sin, serve to show its terrific nature, and tend to prevent its introduction into the world. If this end could have been accomplished by the divine power, such a provision would have been unnecessary, and all the misery of the world only so much "suffering in waste." Secondly, the sufferings of the innocent serve as a foil to set off and enhance the blessedness of eternity. They are but a short and discordant prelude to an everlasting harmony. Thirdly, difficulties and trials, temptations and wants, are indispensable to the rise of moral good in the soul of the innocent; for if there were no temptation to wrong, there could be no merit in obedience, and no virtue in the world. Suffering is, then, essential to the moral discipline and improvement of mankind. On the one or the other of these grounds, it is believed that every instance in which suffering falls upon the innocent, or falls not as a punishment of sin, may be vindicated and reconciled with the goodness of God.



Section III.

The sufferings of Christ consistent with the divine goodness.

The usual defences of the atonement are good, so far as they go, but not complete. The vicarious sufferings of Christ are well vindicated on the ground, that they are necessary to cause the majesty and honour of the divine law to be respected; but this defence, though sound, has been left on an insecure foundation; for it has been admitted that God, by the word of his power, might easily have caused his laws to be universally respected and obeyed. Hence, according to this admission, the sufferings of Christ might have been easily dispensed with, and were not necessary in order to maintain the honour and glory of the divine government. According to this admission, they were not necessary, and consequently not consistent with the goodness of God.

Again: by distinguishing between the administrative and the retributive justice of God, and showing that the vicarious sufferings of Christ were a satisfaction to the first, and not to the last, we annihilate the objections of the Socinian. By means of this view of the satisfaction rendered to the divine justice, we think we have placed the great doctrine of the atonement in a clearer and more satisfactory light than usual. We have shown that the vicarious sufferings of the INNOCENT are so far from being inconsistent with the divine justice, that they are, in fact, free from the least shadow or appearance of hardship either to him or to the world. Nay, that they are a bright manifestation of the divine goodness both to himself and to those for whom he suffered; the brightest manifestation thereof, indeed, which the universe has ever beheld.



Section IV.

The eternity of future punishment consistent with the goodness of God.

The genuine Calvinist, if he reason consecutively from some of the principles of his system, can never escape the conclusion that all men will be saved: for so long as he denies the ability of men to obey without the efficacious grace of God, and affirms that this grace is not given to such as shall finally perish, it must follow that their punishment is unjust, and that their eternal punishment were an act of cruelty and oppression greater than it is possible for the imagination of man to conceive.

It was precisely from such premises, as we have seen, that John Foster denied the eternal duration of future punishment. His logic is good; but even an illogical escape from such a conclusion were better than the rejection of one of the great fundamental doctrines of revealed religion. By having shown his premises to be false, we demolished the very foundation of his arguments. But, not satisfied with this, we pursued those arguments into all their branches and ramifications, and exposed their futility. By these means we have removed the objections and solved the difficulties pertaining to this doctrine of revealed religion. In one word, we have shown that it is not inconsistent with the dictates of reason, or with the principle of the divine goodness.

We have shown that the eternal punishment of the wicked is deserved, and therefore demanded by the divine justice; that they serve to promote the highest moral interests of the universe, and are consequently imposed by the divine goodness itself. We have shown, that in the administration of his eternal government, the infliction of an endless punishment is even more consistent with goodness than the use of temporal punishment in the management of a temporal government; for the first, besides being eternal in duration, is unbounded in extent. Thus reason itself, when disenchanted of its strong Calvinistic prejudices and its weak Socinian sentimentalities, utters no other voice than that which proceeds from revelation; and this it echoes rather than utters. In plainer words, though reason does not prove or establish the eternity of future punishment, it has not one syllable to say against its wisdom, its justice, or its goodness.



Section V.

The true doctrine of election and predestination consistent with the goodness of God.

The Calvinists endeavour to support their scheme of election and predestination by means of analogies drawn from the unequal distribution of the divine favours, which is observable in the natural economy and government of the world. But the two cases are not parallel. According to the one, though the divine favours are unequally distributed, no man is ever required to render an account of more than he receives. Whereas, according to the other, countless millions of human-beings are doomed to eternal misery for the non-observance of a law which they never had it in their power to obey. This is to judge them, not according to what they receive, but according to what they receive not, and cannot obtain. It is to call them to give an account of talents never committed to their charge. The difference between the two cases is, indeed, precisely that between the conduct of a munificent prince who bestows his favours unequally, but without making unreasonable demands, and the proceeding of a capricious tyrant who, while he confers the most exalted privileges and honours on one portion of his subjects, consigns all the rest, not more undeserving than they, to hopeless and remediless destruction; and that, too, for the non-performance of an impossible condition. Is it not wonderful that two cases so widely and so glaringly different, should have been so long and so obstinately confounded by serious inquirers after truth?

The Calvinistic scheme of predestination, it is pretended, derives support from revelation. The ninth chapter of Romans which, from the time of Augustine down to the present day, has been so confidently appealed to in its support, has, as we have seen, no relation to the subject. It relates, not to the election of individuals to eternal life, but of a nation to the enjoyment of external privileges and advantages. This is so plain, that Dr. Macknight, though an advocate of the Calvinistic dogma of predestination, refuses to employ that portion of Scripture in support of his doctrine.

Nor does the celebrated passage of the eighth chapter of the same epistle touch the point in controversy. We might well call in question the Calvinistic interpretation of that passage, if this were necessary; but we take it in their own sense, and show that it lends no support to their views. The Calvinists themselves being the interpreters, that passage teaches that God, according to his eternal purpose, chose or selected a certain portion out of the great mass of mankind as the heirs of eternal life. Granted, then, that a certain portion of the human race were thus made the objects of a peculiar favour, and prospectively endowed with the greatest of all conceivable blessings. But who were thus chosen, or selected? and on what principle was the election made? In regard to this point, it is not pretended by them that the passage in question utters a single syllable. They themselves being the judges, this Scripture merely affirms that a certain portion of mankind are chosen or elected to eternal life; while in regard to the ground, or the reason, of their election, it is most perfectly and profoundly silent.

Hence it leaves us free to assume the position, that those persons were elected or chosen who God foresaw would, by a cooeperation with his Spirit, make their calling and election sure. And being thus left free, this is precisely the position in which we choose to plant ourselves, in order to vindicate the divine glory against the awful misrepresentations of Calvinism: for, in the first place, this view harmonizes the passage in question with other portions of the divine record, and allows us, without the least feeling of self-contradiction, to embrace the sublime word, that God "will have all men to be saved;" and that if any are not made the heirs of his great salvation, it is because his grace would have proved unavailing to them.

Secondly, this view not only harmonizes two classes of seemingly opposed texts of Scripture, but it also serves to vindicate the unbounded glory of the divine goodness. It shows that the goodness of God is not partial in its operation; neither taking such as it leaves, nor leaving such as it takes; but embracing all of the same class, and that class consisting of all who, by wicked works, do not place themselves beyond the possibility of being saved. Unlike Calvinism, it presents us, not with the spectacle of a mercy which might easily save all, but which, nevertheless, contenting itself with a few only, abandons the rest to the ravages of the never-dying worm.

Thirdly, at the same time that it vindicates the glory of the divine mercy, it rectifies the frightful distortion of the divine justice, which is exhibited in the scheme of Calvinism. According to this scheme, all those who are not elected to eternal life are set apart as the objects on which the Almighty intends to manifest the glory of his justice. But how is this glory, or his justice, manifested? Displayed, we are told, by dooming its helpless objects to eternal misery for the non-performance of an impossible condition! A display of justice this, which, to the human mind, bears every mark of the most appalling cruelty and oppression. A display of justice stamped with the most terrific features of its opposite; so that no human mind can see the glory of the one, for the inevitable manifestation of the other! No wonder that Calvinists themselves so often fly from the defence of such a display of the divine justice, and hide themselves in the unsearchable clouds and darkness of the divine wisdom. This being of course a display for eternity, and not for time, they may there await the light of another world to clear away these clouds, and reveal to them the great mystery of such a manifestation of the divine justice. But whether that light will bring to view the great mystery of the divine wisdom therein displayed, or the great secret of human folly therein concealed, we can hardly say remains to be seen. The view we take presents a glorious display of the divine justice for time as well as for eternity.

Fourthly, this view not only shows the justice and the mercy of God, separately considered, in the most advantageous light, but it exhibits the sublime harmony which subsists between them. It presents not, like Calvinism, a mercy limited by justice, and a justice limited by mercy; but it exhibits each in its absolute perfection, and in its agreement with the other: for, according to this view, the claim of mercy extends to all who may be saved, and that of justice to those who may choose to remain incorrigibly wicked. Hence, the claim of the one does not interfere with that of the other; nor can we conceive how either could be more gloriously displayed. We behold the infinite amplitude, as well as the ineffable, unclouded splendour of each divine perfection, without the least disturbance or collision between them. In the very act of punishment, the tender mercy of God, which is over all his works, concurs, and inflicts that suffering which is demanded by the good of the universe. The torment of the lost, is "the wrath of the Lamb." The glory of the redeemed, is the pity of the Judge. Hence, instead of that frightful conflict which the scheme of Calvinism presents, we behold a reconciliation and agreement among the divine attributes, worthy the great principle of order, and harmony, and beauty in the universe.



Section VI.

The question submitted.

We must now take leave of the reader. We have honestly endeavoured to construct a Theodicy, or to vindicate the divine glory as manifested in the constitution and government of the moral world. We have endeavoured to reconcile the great fundamental doctrines of God and man with each other, as well as with the eternal principles of truth. It has likewise been our earnest aim, to evince the harmony of the divine attributes among themselves, as well as their agreement with the condition of the universe. In one word, we have aimed to repel the objections, and solve the difficulties which have been permitted to obscure the glory of the Divine Being; whether those difficulties and objections have seemed to proceed from the false philosophy of his enemies, or the mistaken views and misguided zeal of his friends. How far we have succeeded in this attempt, no less arduous than laudable, it is not for us to determine. We shall, therefore, respectfully submit the determination of this point to the calm and impartial judgment of those who may possess both the desire and the capacity to think for themselves.

THE END.



FOOTNOTES

1 Johnson's Works, vol. iv, p. 286.

2 Institutes, b. ii, c. iii.

3 Scott's Luther and Ref., vol. i, pp. 70, 71.

4 Institutes, b. i, c. xv.

5 Ibid., b. ii, c. ii.

6 Ibid.

7 Dick's Theology.

8 Bondage of the Will, sec. xxvi.

9 Ibid.

10 Progress of Ethical Philosophy, note O. Indeed, this distinction appears quite as clearly in the writings of Augustine, as it does in those of Luther, or Calvin, or Hobbes. He repeatedly places our liberty and ability in this, that we can "keep the commandments if we will," which is obviously a mere freedom from external co-action. See Part ii, ch. iv, sec. 2.

11 Literary Remains, p. 65.

12 Ethique, premiere partie, prop. xxvi.

13 Ibid., prop. xxxiv.

14 Ethique, Des Passions, prop. ii and Scholium.

15 OEuvres de Spinoza, tome ii, 350.

16 Introduction to the "OEuvres de Spinoza," by M. Saisset.

17 Book ii, chapters 21, 27.

18 Disquisitions and Introduction, p. 5.

19 Helvetius on the Mind, p. 44.

20 Mr. Stewart says: "Dr. Hartley was, I believe, one of the first (if not the first) who denied that our consciousness is in favour of our free-agency."—Stewart's Works, vol. v, Appendix. This is evidently a mistake. In the above passage, Leibnitz, with even more point than Hartley, denies that our consciousness is in favour of free-agency.

21 Essais de Theodicee, p. 99.

22 "Hobbes defines a free-agent," says Stewart, "to be 'he that can do if he will, and forbear if he will.' The same definition has been adopted by Leibnitz, by Collins, by Gravezende, by Edwards, by Bonnet, and by all later necessitarians." The truth is, as we have seen, that instead of adopting, Leibnitz has very clearly refuted, the definition of Hobbes. Mr. Harris, in his work entitled "The Primeval Man," has also fallen into the error of ascribing this definition of liberty to Leibnitz. Surely, these very learned authors must have forgotten, that Leibnitz wrote a reply to Hobbes, in which he expressly combats his views of liberty.

23 Essais de Theodicee, pp. 5, 6.

24 Id., p. 8.

25 Inquiry, part ii, sec. viii.

26 Day's Examination of Edwards on the Will, sec. v, pp. 80, 81.

27 Inquiry, part iv, sec. 9.

28 Ibid.

29 Ibid., sec. 7.

30 Institutes of Theology, vol. ii, part iii, chap. i.

31 Lectures on Theology, by the late Rev. John Dick, D. D.

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