and that of imputation. But our Saviour replied: "Neither did this man sin, nor his parents," that he was born blind; but "that the work of God might be made manifest in him." We thank thee, O blessed Master, for that sweet word! How delightful is it, after passing through the dark labyrinths of human folly to sit at thy feet and drink in the lessons of heav enly wisdom! How pleasant to the soul-how inexpressibly cheering is it to turn from the harsh and revolting systems of men, and listen to the sweet accents of mercy as they fall from thy lips! The great law of suffering, then, is that it is intended for the benefit of intelligent creatures. This is the case, even when it assumes the character of punishment; for then it is designed to prevent moral evil. Such a view of natural evil, or suffering, does not give that horrid picture of the world which arises from the sentiment that all pain and death must be a punishment for sin. This causes us to see the black scourge of retributive justice everywhere, and the hand of fatherly correction nowhere. It places us, not in a school or state of probation, to train us up for a better and brighter world, but in the midst of inquisitorial fires and penal woe. It teaches that all mankind became guilty by the act of one man; and that for one deed, millions upon millions of human beings are justly obnoxious, not only to temporal and spiritual, but also to eternal death. We are perfectly aware of all the arguments which have been drawn from Scripture in support of such a doctrine; and we are also perfectly satisfied that they may be most easily and triumphantly refuted. But at present we do not mean to touch this argument; we shall reserve it for another work. In the mean time, we must be permitted to express the sentiment, that a system of theology, so profoundly unphilosophical, so utterly repugnant to the moral sentiments of mankind, can never fulfil the sublime mission of true religion on earth. It may possess the principle of life within, but it is destitute of the form of life without. It may convert the individual soul, and lead it up to heaven; but it has not the radiant form and power of truth, to command the admiration and conquer the intellect of the world. It may elevate and purify the affections, even while it depresses and confounds the understanding; but it cannot transfigure the whole mind, and change it into its own divine image. Noth ing but the most fixed and rooted faith, or the most blind and unquestioning submission, can withstand the fearful blasts and dark impulses of such a system. No wonder, then, that under a system so deplorably deficient in some of the most sublime features of Christianity, infidelity and Pelagianism should so often have sprung up. If we write libels on the divine government, we must expect rebellions and insurrections. This is the natural consequence of the great fundamental heresy which places reason and revelation in opposition to each other. Orthodoxy, as she proudly styles herself, may denounce such rebellions; but she herself is partly responsible for the fatal consequences of them. Reason and revelation can never be dissevered, can never be placed in violent conflict, without a frightful injury to both, and to the best interests of mankind. Reason must find its own internal power and life in revelation, and revelation must find its own external form and beauty in reason. The perfection and glory of each consists in the living union and consentaneous development of both. If we teach absurdity, it is worse than idle to enforce submission by arrogant and lordly denunciations of human pride, or of "carnal reason." And we shall always find, indeed, that when a theologian or a philosopher begins by abusing and vilifying human reason, he either has some absurdity which he wishes us to swallow, or he wishes to be excused from believing anything in particular. Thus, the dogmatism of the one and the scepticism of the other unite in trampling human reason under foot; the one, to erect an empire of absurdity, and the other, to erect an empire of darkness upon its ruins. It should be the great object of all our labours to effect a reunion and harmony between revelation and reason, whose "inauspicious repudiations and divorces" have so long "disturbed everything in the great family of mankind." This language of Bacon is applied by him to the empirical and rational faculties of the human mind. CHAPTER III. THE SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST RECONCILED WITH THE GOODNESS OF GOD. O blessed Well of Love! O Flower of Grace! O glorious Morning Starre! O Lampe of Light! Meeke Lambe of God, before all worlds behight, How can we thee requite for all this good? Or who can prize that thy most precious blood?—SPENSER. In the preceding chapter we have endeavoured to show that natural evil or suffering is not inconsistent with the goodness of God. We were there led to see that God, although he never chooses moral evil, often imposes natural evil, or suffering, in order to secure the well-being of the world. Of this general principle, the sufferings and death of Christ are a particular instance; they are not anomalous, but a striking manifestation of a great principle which pervades the whole economy of divine providence. These sufferings, so far from being inconsistent with the goodness of God, are a stupendous display of that sublime mercy which is over all his works. To illustrate this position, and clear it of sceptical cavils and objections, is the main object of the present chapter. SECTION I. The sufferings of Christ not unnecessary. Because the necessity of Christ's death and sufferings is not manifest at first view, or because the utility of them is not seen, it is concluded by some that they were wholly useless, and consequently inconsistent with the infinite goodness ascribed to the Ruler of the world. We shall content ourselves with disposing of this objection in the words of Bishop Butler. "To object against the expediency or usefulness of particular things revealed to have been done or suffered by him," says he, "because we do not see how they were conducive to those ends, is highly absurd. Yet nothing is more common to be met with than this absurdity. But if it be acknowledged beforehand, that we are not judges in this case, it is evident that no objection can, with any shadow of reason, be urged against any particular part of Christ's mediatorial office revealed in Scripture, till it can be shown positively, not to be requisite, or conducive, to the ends proposed to be accomplished; or that it is in itself unreasonable."* Again: "It is indeed," says he, "a matter of great patience to reasonable men to find people arguing in this manner; objecting against the credibility of such particular things revealed in Scripture, that they do not see the necessity or expediency of them. For, though it is highly right, and the most pious exercise of our understanding, to inquire with due reverence into the ends and reasons of God's dispensations; yet, when those reasons are concealed, to argue from our ignorance, that such dispensations cannot be from God, is infinitely absurd. The presumption of this kind of objection seems almost lost in the folly of them. And the folly of them is yet greater, when they are urged, as usually they are, against things in Christianity analogous, or like to those natural dispensations of Providence which are matters of experience. Let reason be kept to, and if any part of the Scripture account of the redemption of the world by Christ can be shown to be really contrary to it, let the Scripture, in the name of God, be given up: but let not such poor creatures as we go on objecting against an infinite scheme, that we do not see the necessity or usefulness of all its parts, and call this reasoning; and what heightens the absurdity in the present case, parts which we are not actively concerned in."+ This reply is amply sufficient for such an objection. But although the concession is made, for the sake of argument, it is not true, that we do not see the necessity or usefulness of the sufferings of Christ. For, as the author well says: "What has been often alleged in justification of this doctrine, even from the apparent natural tendency of this method of our redemp tion-its tendency to vindicate the authority of God's laws, and deter his creatures from sin: this has never been answered, and is, I think, plainly unanswerable; though I am far from think.ng it an account of the whole of the case."+ It is true, we believe, that the position that the great work Butler's Analogy, part ii, chap. v. † Analogy. ‡ Ibid. of Christ was necessary to maintain the authority of God's law, and to deter his creatures from sin, never has been, and never can be refuted. Yet nearly all of the commonly received systems of theology furnish a principle, a false principle, on which this position may be overthrown, and the sufferings of Christ shown to be unnecessary. For if a necessary holiness be not a contradiction in terms, if God can, as is usually asserted, cause holiness universally to prevail by the mere word of his power, then the work and sufferings of Christ are not necessary to maintain the authority of his law, and deter his creatures from sin. In other words, the sufferings of Christ were "not requisite to the ends proposed to be accomplished," because, on such a supposition, they might have been far more easily and completely accomplished without them. Those who maintain, then, as most theologians do, that God could easily cause virtue to exist everywhere if he would, really set forth a principle which, if true, would demonstrate the sufferings of Christ to be unnecessary, and consequently inconsist ent with the goodness of God. We must strike at this false principle, and restore the truth that a necessary holiness is a contradiction in terms, an inherent and impossible conceit, if we would behold the sublime significancy and beauty of the stupendous sacrifice of the cross. We shall then behold the necessity of that sacrifice, and see the omnipotent yearnings of the divine love in its efforts to overcome an obstacle, which could not be otherwise surmounted. It is often said, we are well aware, that God might have saved us by a mere word; but he chose not to do so, preferring to give up his Son to death in order to show his love. But how can such a position be maintained? If God could save us by a word, how can it display his love to require such immense sufferings in order to save us? If he could accomplish the salvation of all men by a mere word, how does it show his love to make such wonderful preparations for their salvation; and, after all, permit so large a portion of them to be eternally lost? If we could save the life of a fellow-being by merely putting forth a hand, would it display our love for him if we should choose to travel all around the earth, and incur incredible hardships and sufferings in order to save him? Would this display our love, we ask, or our folly? Is it not evident, then, that the |