Aids to Reflection; and, The Confessions of an Inquiring Spirit
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Title: Aids to Reflection; and, The Confessions of an Inquiring Spirit
Author: Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Contributor: James Marsh
Release date: January 30, 2014 [eBook #44795]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AIDS TO REFLECTION; AND, THE CONFESSIONS OF AN INQUIRING SPIRIT ***
Transcriber's Note.
The "Aphorisms on that which is indeed Spiritual Religion" extend from
p. 102 to p. 241. They are interspersed with other material that is
listed in the Table of Contents. In addition some of the Aphorisms are
listed separately in the Table. It has been modified to clarify this.
Biblical references have been standardised on one of the more common
formats, viz. "1 John iv. 5.".
The Erratum has been incorporated in the text.
Apparent typographical errors have been corrected, although
inconsistencies in hyphenation have been retained.
Italics are indicated by _underscores_. Greek accents have been
omitted though rough-breathing marks have been retained. Small
capitals have been converted to full capitals.
AIDS TO REFLECTION
AND
THE CONFESSIONS OF AN
INQUIRING SPIRIT.
BY
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.
TO WHICH ARE ADDED
HIS ESSAYS ON FAITH AND THE BOOK OF
COMMON PRAYER, ETC.
_NEW EDITION, REVISED._
LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS, YORK STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.
1884.
CHISWICK PRESS: C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT,
CHANCERY LANE.
NOTE TO THIS EDITION.
The present re-print of the 'Aids to Reflection' is mainly from Mr. H.
N. Coleridge's, or the fourth edition. In some points, however, the
earlier editions, which have been carefully consulted throughout, have
been followed.
Dr. Marsh's Preliminary Essay to the 'Aids to Reflection' is printed
from his own second edition, published with the 'Aids' at Burlington,
U.S., in 1840.
Coleridge's posthumous 'Confessions of an Inquiring Spirit' is from
Mr. H. N. Coleridge's text, which was printed from the author's MS.
The 'Essay on Faith' and 'Notes on the Book of Common Prayer' are
re-printed from Coleridge's 'Remains,' as being, possibly, parts of
the "supplementary volume" to the 'Aids to Reflection,' which the
author contemplated (_vide_ p. 257) but never published. The 'Nightly
Prayer' is also re-printed from Coleridge's 'Remains.'
CONTENTS.
AIDS TO REFLECTION: PAGE
Author's Original Title-page, 1825 ix
Mr. H. N. Coleridge's Advertisement to the Fourth Edition xi
Author's Address to the Reader xiii
Author's Preface and Advertisement xv
Dr. Marsh's Preliminary Essay xxiii
Introductory Aphorisms 1
On Sensibility 22
Prudential Aphorisms 27
Moral and Religious Aphorisms 35
Elements of Religious Philosophy 88
Aphorisms on Spiritual Religion 96
Aphorisms on that which is indeed Spiritual Religion 102
On the Difference in kind of Reason and the Understanding
(after Aphorism VIII.) 143
On Instinct in Connection with the Understanding
(in Comment on Aphorism IX.) 162
On Original Sin (Aphorism X.) 172
Paley not a Moralist (Aphorism XII.) 196
On Redemption (in Comment on Aphorism XIX.) 223
On Baptism 242
Conclusion 258
Appendix A: Summary of the Argument on Reason and the
Understanding 277
Appendix B: On Instinct; by Prof. J. H. Green 278
CONFESSIONS OF AN INQUIRING SPIRIT: Letters on the
Inspiration of the Scriptures 285
The Pentad of Operative Christianity 288
Questions as to the Divine Origin of the Bible 289
Letter I. 291
Letter II. 296
Letter III. 301
Letter IV. 308
Letter V. 321
Letter VI. 322
Letter VII. 333
ESSAY ON FAITH 341
NOTES ON THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER 350
A NIGHTLY PRAYER 360
INDEX 363
[_ORIGINAL TITLE-PAGE, 1825._]
AIDS TO REFLECTION
IN THE
FORMATION OF A MANLY CHARACTER,
ON THE SEVERAL GROUNDS OF
PRUDENCE, MORALITY, AND RELIGION.
ILLUSTRATED BY
SELECT PASSAGES FROM OUR ELDER DIVINES, ESPECIALLY
FROM ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.
By S. T. COLERIDGE.
This makes, that whatsoever here befalls,
You in the region of yourself remain,
Neighb'ring on Heaven: and that no foreign land.
DANIEL.
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FOURTH EDITION.
[BY HENRY NELSON COLERIDGE.]
This corrected Edition of the Aids to Reflection is commended to
Christian readers, in the hope and the trust that the power which the
book has already exercised over hundreds, it may, by God's
furtherance, hereafter exercise over thousands. No age, since
Christianity had a name, has more pointedly needed the mental
discipline taught in this work than that in which we now live; when,
in the Author's own words, all the great ideas or verities of religion
seem in danger of being condensed into idols, or evaporated into
metaphors. Between the encroachments, on the one hand, of those who so
magnify means that they practically impeach the supremacy of the ends
which those means were meant to subserve; and of those, on the other
hand, who, engrossed in the contemplation of the great Redemptive Act,
rashly disregard or depreciate the appointed ordinances of
grace;--between those who, confounding the sensuous Understanding,
varying in every individual, with the universal Reason, the image of
God, the same in all men, inculcate a so-called faith, having no
demonstrated harmony with the attributes of God, or the essential laws
of humanity, and being sometimes inconsistent with both; and those
again who requiring a logical proof of that which, though not
contradicting, does in its very kind, transcend, our reason, virtually
deny the existence of true faith altogether;--between these almost
equal enemies of the truth, Coleridge,--in all his works, but
pre-eminently in this--has kindled an inextinguishable beacon of
warning and of guidance. In so doing, he has taken his stand on the
sure word of Scripture, and is supported by the authority of almost
every one of our great divines, before the prevalence of that system
of philosophy, (Locke's,) which no consistent reasoner can possibly
reconcile with the undoubted meaning of the Articles and Formularies
of the English Church:--
_In causaque valet, causamque juvantibus armis._
The Editor had intended to offer to the reader a few words by way of
introduction to some of the leading points of philosophy contained in
this Volume. But he has been delighted to find the work already done
to his hand, in a manner superior to anything he could have hoped to
accomplish himself, by an affectionate disciple of Coleridge on the
other side of the Atlantic. The following Essay was written by the
Rev. James Marsh, President of the University of Vermont, United
States of America, and prefixed by him to his Edition of the Aids to
Reflection, published at Burlington in 1829. The Editor has printed
this Essay entire;[1]--as well out of respect for its author, as
believing that the few paragraphs in it having a more special
reference to the state of opinion in America, will not be altogether
without an interest of their own to the attentive observers of the
progress of Truth in this or any other country.
Lincoln's Inn, 25th April, 1839.
[1] See pp. xxiii-lxxvi. Mr. H. N. Coleridge gave the first edition of
Dr. Marsh's Essay. The reader has in the present volume the essay as
it appeared in its second and revised edition, 1840.--ED.
THE AUTHOR'S ADDRESS TO THE READER.
Fellow-Christian! the wish to be admired as a fine writer held a very
subordinate place in my thoughts and feelings in the composition of
this volume. Let then its comparative merits and demerits, in respect
of style and stimulancy, possess a proportional weight, and no more,
in determining your judgment for or against its contents. Read it
_through_: then compare the state of your mind, with the state in
which your mind was, when you first opened the book. Has it led you to
reflect? Has it supplied or suggested fresh subjects for reflection?
Has it given you any new information? Has it removed any obstacle to a
lively conviction of your responsibility as a moral agent? Has it
solved any difficulties, which had impeded your faith as a Christian?
Lastly, has it increased your power of thinking connectedly?
Especially on the Scheme and purpose of the Redemption by Christ? If
it have done none of these things, condemn it aloud as worthless: and
strive to compensate for your own loss of time, by preventing others
from wasting theirs. But if your conscience dictates an affirmative
answer to all or any of the preceding questions, declare this too
aloud, and endeavour to extend my utility.[2]
[2] In the place of this Address the first edition, 1825, had the
Advertisement which we now print at the end of the Author's Preface,
p. xix.--ED.
Ουτως παντα προς ἑαυτην επαγουσα, και συνηθροισμενη ψυχη,
αυτη εις αὑτην, ραιστα και μαλα βεβαιως μακαριζεται.
MARINUS.
_Omnis divinæ atque humanæ eruditionis elementa tria, Nosse, Velle,
Posse; quorum principium unum Mens; cujus oculus Ratio; cui lumen * *
præbet Deus._
VICO.
_Naturam hominis hanc Deus ipse voluit, ut duarum rerum cupidus et
appetens esset, religionis et sapientiæ. Sed homines ideo falluntur,
quod aut religionem suscipiunt omissa sapientia; aut sapientiæ soli
student omissa religione; cum alterum sine altero esse non possit
verum._
LACTANTIUS.
THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
An Author has three points to settle: to what sort his work belongs,
for what description of readers it is intended, and the specific end,
or object, which it is to answer. There is indeed a preliminary
question respecting the end which the writer himself has in view,
whether the number of purchasers, or the benefit of the readers. But
this may be safely passed by; since where the book itself or the known
principles of the writer do not supersede the question, there will
seldom be sufficient strength of character for good or for evil, to
afford much chance of its being either distinctly put or fairly
answered.
I shall proceed therefore to state as briefly as possible the
intentions of the present volume in reference to the three
first-mentioned points, viz. _What?_ For _Whom?_ and _For_ what?
I. WHAT? The answer is contained in the title-page.[3] It belongs to
the class of _didactic_ works. Consequently, those who neither wish
_instruction_ for themselves, nor assistance in instructing others,
have no interest in its contents. _Sis sus, sis Divus: sum caltha, et
non tibi spiro._
II. FOR WHOM? _Generally_, for as many in all classes as wish for aid
in disciplining their minds to habits of reflection--for all who,
desirous of building up a manly character in the light of distinct
consciousness, are content to study the principles of moral
architecture on the several grounds of prudence, morality, and
religion. And lastly, for all who feel an interest in the Position, I
have undertaken to defend--this, namely, that the CHRISTIAN FAITH (_in
which I include every article of belief and doctrine professed by the
first Reformers in common_)[4] IS THE PERFECTION OF HUMAN
INTELLIGENCE,--an interest sufficiently strong to insure a patient
attention to the arguments brought in its support.
But if I am to mention any particular class or description of readers,
that were prominent in my thought during the composition of the
volume, my reply must be; that it was _especially_ designed for the
studious Young at the close of their education or on their first
entrance into the duties of manhood and the rights of self-government.
And of these, again, in thought and wish I destined the work (the
latter and larger portion, at least) yet more particularly to Students
intended for the Ministry; _first_, as in duty bound, to the members
of our two Universities: _secondly_, (but only in respect of this
mental precedency _second_) to all alike of whatever name, who have
dedicated their future lives to the cultivation of their race, as
Pastors, Preachers, Missionaries, or Instructors of Youth.
III. FOR WHAT? The worth of an author is estimated by the ends, the
attainment of which he proposed to himself by the particular work;
while the value of the work depends on its fitness, as the Means. The
objects of the present volume are the following, arranged in the order
of their comparative importance.
1. To direct the reader's attention to the value of the Science of
Words, their use and abuse (see _Note, p. 5_) and the incalculable
advantages attached to the habit of using them appropriately, and with
a distinct knowledge of their primary, derivative, and metaphorical
senses. And in furtherance of this Object I have neglected no occasion
of enforcing the maxim, that to expose a sophism and to detect the
equivocal or double meaning of a word is, in the great majority of
cases, one and the same thing. Horne Tooke entitled his celebrated
work, "Επεα πτεροεντα, Winged Words": or Language, not only the
_Vehicle_ of Thought but the _Wheels_. With my convictions and views,
for πεα I should substitute λογοι, that is, Words _select_ and
_determinate_, and for πτεροεντα ζωοντες, that is, _living_ Words.
The _Wheels_ of the Intellect I admit them to be; but such as Ezekiel
beheld in _the visions of God_ as he sate among the captives by the
river of Chebar. _Whithersoever the Spirit was to go, the wheels went,
and thither was their Spirit to go: for the Spirit of the living
creature was in the wheels also._
2. To establish the _distinct_ characters of Prudence, Morality, and
Religion: and to impress the conviction, that though the second
requires the first, and the third contains and supposes both the
former; yet still Moral Goodness is other and more than Prudence, or
the Principle of Expediency; and Religion more and higher than
Morality. For this distinction the better schools even of Pagan
Philosophy contended. (_See pp. 20, 21._)
3. To substantiate and set forth at large the momentous distinction
between Reason and Understanding. Whatever is achievable by the
Understanding for the purposes of worldly interest, private or public,
has in the present age been pursued with an activity and a success
beyond all former experience, and to an extent which equally demands
my admiration and excites my wonder. But likewise it is, and long has
been, my conviction, that in no age since the first dawning of Science
and Philosophy in this island have the truths, interests, and studies
that especially belong to the Reason, contemplative or practical, sunk
into such utter neglect, not to say contempt, as during the last
century. It is therefore one main object of this volume to establish
the position, that whoever transfers to the Understanding the primacy
due to the Reason, loses the one and spoils the other.
4. To exhibit a full and consistent Scheme of the Christian
Dispensation, and more largely of all the _peculiar_ doctrines of the
Christian Faith; and to answer all the objections to the same, which
do not originate in a corrupt Will rather than an erring Judgment; and
to do this in a manner intelligible for all who, possessing the
ordinary advantages of education, do in good earnest desire to form
their religious creed in the light of their own convictions, and to
have a reason for the faith which they profess. There are indeed
Mysteries, in evidence of which no reasons can be brought. But it has
been my endeavour to show, that the true solution of this problem is,
that these Mysteries _are_ Reason, Reason in its highest form of
Self-affirmation.
Such are the special Objects of these "Aids to Reflection." Concerning
the general character of the work, let me be permitted to add the few
following sentences. St. Augustine, in one of his Sermons, discoursing
on a high point of theology, tells his auditors--_Sic accipite, ut
mereamini intelligere. Fides enim debet præcedere intellectum, ut
sit intellectus fidei præmium._ Now without a certain portion of
gratuitous and (as it were) _experimentative_ faith in the writer, a
reader will scarcely give that degree of continued attention, without
which no _didactic_ work worth reading can be read to any wise or
profitable purpose. In _this_ sense, therefore, and to _this_ extent,
_every_ author, who is competent to the office he has undertaken, may
without arrogance repeat St. Augustine's words in his own right, and
advance a similar claim on similar grounds. But I venture no further
than to imitate the sentiment at a humble distance, by avowing my
belief that he who seeks _instruction_ in the following pages, will
not fail to find _entertainment_ likewise; but that whoever seeks
entertainment only will find neither.
READER!--You have been bred in a land abounding with men, able in
arts, learning, and knowledges manifold, this man in one, this in
another, few in many, none in all. But there is one art, of which
every man should be master, the art of REFLECTION. If you are not a
_thinking_ man, to what purpose are you a _man_ at all? In like
manner, there is one knowledge, which it is every man's interest and
duty to acquire, namely, SELF-KNOWLEDGE: or to what end was man alone,
of all animals, endued by the Creator with the faculty of
_self-consciousness_? Truly said the Pagan moralist, _e cælo
descendit_, Γνωθι σεαυτον.
But you are likewise born in a CHRISTIAN land: and Revelation has
provided for you new subjects for reflection, and new treasures of
knowledge, never to be unlocked by him who remains self-ignorant.
Self-knowledge is the key to this casket; and by reflection alone can
it be obtained. Reflect on your own thoughts, actions, circumstances,
and--which will be of especial aid to you in forming a _habit_ of
reflection,--accustom yourself to reflect on the words you use, hear,
or read, their birth, derivation and history. For if words are not
THINGS, they are LIVING POWERS, by which the things of most importance
to mankind are actuated, combined, and humanized. Finally, by
reflection you may draw from the fleeting facts of your worldly trade,
art, or profession, a science permanent as your immortal soul; and
make even these subsidiary and preparative to the reception of
spiritual truth, "doing as the dyers do, who having first dipt their
silks in colours of less value, then give them the last tincture of
crimson in grain."
[ADVERTISEMENT.[5]--In the bodies of several species of animals there
are found certain parts of which neither the office, the functions,
nor the relations could be ascertained by the Comparative Anatomist
till he had become acquainted with the state of the animal before
birth. Something sufficiently like this (for the purpose of an
illustration at least) applies to the work here offered to the public.
In the introductory portion there occur several passages, which the
reader will be puzzled to decipher, without some information
respecting the original design of the volume, and the changes it has
undergone during its immature and embryonic state. On this account
only, I think myself bound to make it known, that the work was begun
as a mere selection from the Writings of Archbishop Leighton, under
the usual title of "The Beauties of Archbishop Leighton," with a few
notes and a biographical preface by the Selector. Hence the term
_Editor_, subscribed to the notes, and prefixed, alone or conjointly
to the Aphorisms, according as the passage was written entirely by
myself, or only modified and (_avowedly_) interpolated.[6] I continued
the use of the word on the plea of uniformity; though, like most other
deviations from propriety of language, it would, probably, have been a
wiser choice to have omitted or exchanged it. The various Reflections,
however, that pressed on me while I was considering the motives for
selecting this or that passage; the desire for enforcing, and as it
were entegrating, the truths contained in the original author, by
adding those which the words suggested or recalled to my own mind; the
conversations with men of eminence in the literary and religious
circles, occasioned by the objects which I had in view; and, lastly,
the increasing disproportion of the Commentary to the Text, and the
too marked difference in the frame, character, and colours of the two
styles; soon induced me to recognize and adopt a revolution in my plan
and object, which had in fact actually taken place without my
intention, and almost unawares. It would indeed be more correct to
say, that the present volume owed its accidental origin to the
intention of compiling one of a different description than to speak of
it as the same work. It is not a change in the child, but a
changeling.
Still, however, the selections from Leighton, which will be found in
the Prudential and Moral sections of this work, and which I could
retain consistently with its present form and matter, will both from
the intrinsic excellence and from the characteristic beauty of the
passages, suffice to answer two prominent purposes of the original
plan, that of placing in a clear light the principle which pervades
all Leighton's writings--his sublime view, I mean, of Religion and
Morality as the means of reforming the human Soul in the Divine Image
(_Idea_); and that of exciting an interest in the works, and an
affectionate reverence for the name and memory of this severely tried
and truly primitive Churchman.
S. T. C.]
[3] Coleridge's original title-page, viz., that to the 1825 edition,
is given at p. ix. That edition bore the imprint of Taylor and Hessey,
93, Fleet Street, and 13, Waterloo Place, Pall Mall.--ED.
[4] This parenthesis was in editions one to three, but was dropped out
of the fourth.--ED.
[5] Coleridge's advertisement to the first edition, 1825. It has been
omitted since, until now.--ED.
[6] In the first edition the Aphorisms were superscribed "Leighton,"
&c., when selected, and "Editor" when by Coleridge himself. Some later
editions excluded these useful headings. We revert to the author's
first plan, substituting the name Coleridge for "Editor."--ED.
PRELIMINARY ESSAY.
BY THE REV. JAMES MARSH.[7]
Whether the present state of religions feeling, and the prevailing
topics of theological inquiry among us, are particularly favourable to
the success of the Work herewith offered to the Public can be
determined only by the result. The question, however, has not been
left unconsidered; and however that may be, it is not a work, the
value of which depends essentially upon its relation to the passing
controversies of the day. Unless I distrust my own feelings and
convictions altogether, I must suppose, that for some, I hope for
many, minds, it will have a deep and enduring interest. Of those
classes, for whose use it is more especially designated in the
Author's Preface, I trust there are many also in this country, who
will justly appreciate the objects at which it aims, and avail
themselves of its instruction and assistance. I could wish it might be
received, by all who concern themselves in religious inquiries and
instruction especially, in the spirit which seems to me to have
animated its great and admirable author; and I hesitate not to say,
that to all of every class, who shall so receive it, and peruse it
with the attention and thoughtfulness, which it demands and deserves,
it will be found by experience to furnish, what its title imports,
"AIDS TO REFLECTION" on subjects, upon which every man is bound to
reflect deeply and in earnest.
What the specific objects of the Work are, and for whom it is written,
may be learned in a few words from the Preface of the Author. From
this, too, it will be seen to be professedly didactic. It is designed
to aid those who wish for instruction, or assistance in the
instruction of others. The plan and composition of the Work will to
most readers probably appear somewhat anomalous; but reflection upon
the nature of the objects aimed at, and some little experience of its
results, may convince them that the method adopted is not without its
advantages. It is important to observe, that it is designed, as its
general characteristic, to aid REFLECTION, and for the most part upon
subjects which can be learned and understood only by the exercise of
reflection in the strict and proper sense of that term. It was not so
much to teach a speculative system of doctrines built upon established
premises, for which a different method would have been obviously
preferable, as to turn the mind continually back upon the premises
themselves--upon the inherent grounds of truth and error in its own
being. The only way in which it is possible for any one to learn the
science of words, which is one of the objects to be sought in the
present Work, and the true import of those words especially, which
most concern us as rational and accountable beings, is by reflecting
upon and bringing forth into distinct consciousness, those mental acts
which the words are intended to designate. We must discover and
distinctly apprehend different meanings, before we can appropriate to
each a several word, or understand the words so appropriated by
others. Now it is not too much to say, that most men, and even a large
proportion of educated men, do not reflect sufficiently upon their
own inward being, upon the constituent laws of their own
understanding, upon the mysterious powers and agencies of reason, and
conscience, and will, to apprehend with much distinctness the objects
to be named, or of course to refer the names with correctness to their
several objects. Hence the necessity of associating the study of words
with the study of morals and religion; and that is the most effectual
method of instruction, which enables the teacher most successfully to
fix the attention upon a definite meaning, that is, in these studies,
upon a particular act, or process, or law of the mind--to call it into
distinct consciousness, and assign to it its proper name, so that the
name shall thenceforth have for the learner a distinct, definite, and
intelligible sense. To impress upon the reader the importance of this,
and to exemplify it in the particular subjects taken up in the Work,
is a leading aim of the Author throughout; and it is obviously the
only possible way by which we can arrive at any satisfactory and
conclusive results on subjects of philosophy, morals, and religion.
The first principles, the ultimate grounds, of these, so far as they
are possible objects of knowledge for us, must be sought and found in
the laws of our being, or they are not found at all. The knowledge of
these, terminates in the knowledge of ourselves, of our rational and
personal being, of our proper and distinctive humanity, and of that
Divine Being, in whose image we are created. "We must retire inward,"
says St. Bernard, "if we would ascend upward." It is by
self-inspection, by reflecting upon the mysterious grounds of our own
being, that we can alone arrive at any rational knowledge of the
central and absolute ground of all being. It is by this only, that we
can discover that principle of unity and consistency, which reason
instinctively seeks after, which shall reduce to an harmonious system
all our views of truth and of being, and destitute of which all the
knowledge that comes to us from without is fragmentary, and in its
relation to our highest interests as rational beings but the
patch-work of vanity.
Now, of necessity, the only method, by which another can aid our
efforts in the work of reflection, is by first reflecting himself, and
so pointing out the process and marking the result by words, that we
can repeat it, and try the conclusions by our own consciousness. If he
have reflected aright, if he have excluded all causes of
self-deception, and directed his thoughts by those principles of truth
and reason, and by those laws of the understanding, which belong in
common to all men, his conclusions must be true for all. We have only
to repeat the process, impartially to reflect ourselves, unbiassed by
received opinions, and undeceived by the idols of our own
understandings, and we shall find the same truths in the depths of our
own self-consciousness. I am persuaded that such, for the most part,
will be found to be the case with regard to the principles developed
in the present Work, and that those who, with serious reflection and
an unbiassed love of truth, will refer them to the laws of thought in
their own minds, to the requirements of their own reason, will find
there a witness to their truth.
Viewing the Work in this manner, therefore, as an instructive and safe
guide to the knowledge of what it concerns all men to know, I cannot
but consider it in itself as a work of great and permanent value to
any Christian community. Whatever indeed tends to awaken and cherish
the power, and to form the habit, of reflection upon the great
constituent principles of our own permanent being and proper humanity,
and upon the abiding laws of truth and duty, as revealed in our reason
and conscience, cannot but promote our highest interests as moral and
rational beings. Even if the particular conclusions, to which the
Author has arrived, should prove erroneous, the evil is comparatively
of little importance, if he have at the same time communicated to our
minds such powers of thought, as will enable us to detect his errors,
and attain by our own efforts to a more perfect knowledge of the
truth. That some of his views may not be erroneous, or that they are
to be received on his authority, the Author, I presume, would be the
last to affirm; and although in the nature of the case it was
impossible for him to aid reflection without anticipating, and in some
measure influencing, the results, yet the primary tendency and design
of the Work is, not to establish this or that system, but to cultivate
in every mind the power and the will to seek earnestly and steadfastly
for the truth in the only direction, in which it can ever be found.
The work is no further controversial, than every work must be, "that
is writ with freedom and reason" upon subjects of the same kind; and
if it be found at variance with existing opinions and modes of
philosophizing, it is not necessarily to be considered the fault of
the writer.
In republishing the Work in this country, I could wish that it might
be received by all, for whose instruction it was designed, simply as a
didactic work, on its own merits, and without controversy. I must not,
however, be supposed ignorant of its bearing upon those questions,
which have so often been, and still are, the prevailing topics of
theological controversy among us. It was indeed incumbent on me,
before inviting the attention of the religious community to the Work,
to consider its relation to existing opinions, and its probable
influence on the progress of truth. This I have done with as severe
thought as I am capable of bestowing upon any subject, and I trust too
with no want of deference and conscientious regard to the feelings and
opinions of others. I have not attempted to disguise from myself, nor
do I wish to disguise from the readers of the Work, the inconsistency
of some of its leading principles with much that is taught and
received in our theological circles. Should it gain much of the public
attention in any way, it will become, as it ought to do, an object of
special and deep interest to all, who would contend for the truth, and
labour to establish it upon a permanent basis. I venture to assure
such, even those of them who are most capable of comprehending the
philosophical grounds of truth in our speculative systems of theology,
that in its relation to this whole subject they will find it to be a
Work of great depth and power, and, whether right or wrong, eminently
deserving their attention. It is not to be supposed that all who read,
or even all who comprehend it, will be convinced of the soundness of
its views, or be prepared to abandon those which they have long
considered essential to the truth. To those, whose understandings by
long habit have become limited in their powers of apprehension, and as
it were identified with certain schemes of doctrine, certain modes of
contemplating all that pertains to religious truth, it may appear
novel, strange, and unintelligible, or even dangerous in its tendency,
and be to them an occasion of offence. But I have no fear that any
earnest and single-hearted lover of the truth as it is in Jesus, who
will free his mind from the idols of preconceived opinion, and give
himself time and opportunity to understand the Work by such reflection
as the nature of the subject renders unavoidable, will find in it any
cause of offence, or any source of alarm. If the Work become the
occasion of controversy at all, I should expect it from those, who,
instead of reflecting deeply upon the first principles of truth in
their own reason and conscience and in the word of God, are more
accustomed to speculate--that is, from premises given or assumed, but
considered unquestionable, as the constituted point of observation, to
look abroad upon the whole field of their intellectual vision, and
thence to decide upon the true form and dimensions of all which meets
their view. To such I would say with deference, that the merits of
this Work cannot be determined by the merely relative aspect of its
doctrines, as seen from the high ground of any prevailing metaphysical
or theological system. Those on the contrary who will seek to
comprehend it by reflection, to learn the true meaning of the whole
and of all its parts, by retiring into their own minds and finding
there the true point of observation for each, will not be in haste to
question the truth or the tendency of its principles. I make these
remarks because I am anxious, as far as may be, to anticipate the
causeless fears of all, who earnestly pray and labour for the
promotion of the truth, and to preclude that unprofitable controversy,
which might arise from hasty or prejudiced views of a Work like this.
At the same time I should be far from deprecating any discussion which
might tend to unfold more fully the principles which it teaches, or to
exhibit more distinctly its true bearing upon the interests of
theological science and of spiritual religion. It is to promote this
object, indeed, that I am induced in the remarks which follow to offer
some of my own thoughts on these subjects, imperfect I am well aware,
and such as, for that reason, as well as others, worldly prudence
might require me to suppress. If, however, I may induce reflecting
men, and those who are engaged in theological inquiries especially, to
indulge a suspicion that all truth, which it is important for them to
know, is not contained in the systems of doctrine usually taught, and
that this Work may be worthy of their serious and reflecting perusal,
my chief object will be accomplished. I shall of course not need to
anticipate in detail the contents of the Work itself, but shall aim
simply to point out what I consider its distinguishing and essential
character and tendency, and then direct the attention of my readers to
some of those general feelings and views on the subjects of religious
truth, and of those particulars in the prevailing philosophy of the
age, which seem to me to be exerting an injurious influence on the
cause of theological science and of spiritual religion, and not only
to furnish a fit occasion, but to create an imperious demand, for a
Work like that which is here offered to the public.
In regard then to the distinguishing character and tendency of the
Work itself, it has already been stated to be didactic, and designed
to aid reflection on the principles and grounds of truth in our own
being; but in another point of view, and with reference to my present
object, it might rather be denominated A PHILOSOPHICAL STATEMENT AND
VINDICATION OF THE DISTINCTIVELY SPIRITUAL AND PECULIAR DOCTRINES OF
THE CHRISTIAN SYSTEM. In order to understand more clearly the import
of this statement, and the relation of the Author's views to those
exhibited in other systems, the reader is requested to examine in the
first place, what he considers the _peculiar doctrines of
Christianity_, and what he means by the terms _spirit_ and
_spiritual_. A synoptical view of what he considers peculiar to
Christianity as a revelation is given in Aphorism VII., on Spiritual
Religion, and, if I mistake not, will be found essentially to
coincide, though not perhaps in the language employed, with what among
us are termed the Evangelical doctrines of religion. Those who are
anxious to examine further into the orthodoxy of the Work in
connection with this statement, may consult the articles on ORIGINAL
SIN and REDEMPTION,[8] though I must forewarn them that it will
require much study in connection with the other parts of the Work,
before one unaccustomed to the Author's language, and unacquainted
with his views, can fully appreciate the merit of what may be peculiar
in his mode of treating those subjects. With regard to the term
_spiritual_, it may be sufficient to remark here, that he regards it
as having a specific import, and maintains that in the sense of the
New Testament, _spiritual_ and _natural_ are contradistinguished, so
that what is spiritual is different in kind from that which is
natural, and is in fact _super_-natural. So, too, while morality is
something more than prudence, religion, the spiritual life, is
something more than morality.
In vindicating the peculiar doctrines of the Christian system so
stated, and a faith in the reality of agencies and modes of being
essentially spiritual or supernatural, he aims to show their
consistency with reason and with the true principles of philosophy,
and that indeed, so far from being irrational, CHRISTIAN FAITH IS THE
PERFECTION OF HUMAN REASON. By reflection upon the subjective grounds
of knowledge and faith in the human mind itself, and by an analysis of
its faculties, he developes the distinguishing characteristics and
necessary relations of the natural and the spiritual in our modes of
being and knowing, and the all-important fact, that although the
former does not comprehend the latter, yet neither does it preclude
its existence. He proves, that "the scheme of Christianity, * * *
though not discoverable by human reason, is yet in accordance with it;
that link follows link by necessary consequence; that Religion passes
out of the ken of Reason only where the eye of Reason has reached its
own horizon--and that Faith is then but its continuation."[9] Instead
of adopting, like the popular metaphysicians of the day, a system of
philosophy at war with religion, and which tends inevitably to
undermine our belief in the reality of any thing spiritual in the only
proper sense of that word, and then coldly and ambiguously referring
us for the support of our faith to the authority of Revelation, he
boldly asserts the reality of something distinctively spiritual in
man, and the futility of all those modes of philosophizing, in which
this is not recognized, or which are incompatible with it. He
considers it the highest and most rational purpose of any system of
philosophy, at least of one professing to be Christian, to investigate
those higher and peculiar attributes, which distinguish us from the
brutes that perish--which are the image of God in us, and constitute
our proper humanity. It is in his view the proper business and the
duty of the Christian philosopher to remove all appearance of
contradiction between the several manifestations of the one Divine
Word, to reconcile reason with revelation, and thus to justify the
ways of God to man. The methods by which he accomplishes this, either
in regard to the terms in which he enunciates the great doctrines of
the Gospel, or the peculiar views of philosophy by which he reconciles
them with the subjective grounds of faith in the universal reason of
man, need not be stated here. I will merely observe, that the key to
his system will be found in the distinctions, which he makes and
illustrates between _nature_ and _free-will_, and between the
_understanding_ and _reason_. It may meet the prejudices of some to
remark farther, that in philosophizing on the grounds of our faith he
does not profess or aim to solve all mysteries, and to bring all truth
within the comprehension of the understanding. A truth may be
mysterious, and the primary ground of all truth and reality must be
so. But though we may believe what _passeth all understanding_, we
_cannot_ believe what is _absurd_, or contradictory to _reason_.
Whether the Work be well executed, according to the idea of it, as now
given, or whether the Author have accomplished his purpose, must be
determined by those who are capable of judging, when they shall have
examined and reflected upon the whole as it deserves. The inquiry
which I have now to propose to my readers is, whether the idea itself
be a rational one, and whether the purpose of the Author be one which
a wise man and a Christian ought to aim at, or which in the present
state of our religious interests, and of our theological science,
specially needs to be accomplished.
No one, who has had occasion to observe the general feelings and views
of our religious community for a few years past, can be ignorant, that
a strong prejudice exists against the introduction of philosophy, in
any form, in the discussion of theological subjects. The terms
_philosophy_ and _metaphysics_, even _reason_ and _rational_, seem, in
the minds of those most devoted to the support of religious truth, to
have forfeited their original, and to have acquired a new import,
especially in their relation to matters of faith. By a philosophical
view of religious truth would generally be understood a view, not only
varying from the religion of the Bible in the form and manner of
presenting it, but at war with it; and a rational religion is supposed
to be of course something diverse from revealed religion. A
philosophical and rational system of religious truth would by most
readers among us, if I mistake not, be supposed a system deriving its
doctrines not from revelation, but from the speculative reason of men,
or at least relying on that only for their credibility. That these
terms have been used to designate such systems, and that the prejudice
against reason and philosophy so employed is not, therefore, without
cause, I need not deny; nor would any friend of revealed truth be less
disposed to give credence to such systems, than the Author of the Work
before us.
But, on the other hand, a moment's reflection only can be necessary to
convince any man, attentive to the use of language, that we do at the
same time employ these terms in relation to truth generally in a
better and much higher sense. _Rational_, as contradistinguished from
_irrational_ and _absurd_, certainly denotes a quality, which every
man would be disposed to claim, not only for himself, but for his
religious opinions. Now, the adjective _reasonable_ having acquired a
different use and signification, the word _rational_ is the adjective
corresponding in sense to the substantive _reason_, and signifies
what is conformed to reason. In one sense, then, all men would appeal
to reason in behalf of their religious faith; they would deny that it
was irrational or absurd. If we do not in this sense adhere to reason,
we forfeit our prerogative as rational beings, and our faith is no
better than the bewildered dream of a man who has lost his reason.
Nay, I maintain that when we use the term in this higher sense, it is
impossible for us to believe on any authority what is directly
contradictory to reason and seen to be so. No evidence from another
source, and no authority could convince us, that a proposition in
geometry, for example, is false, which our reason intuitively
discovers to be true. Now if we suppose (and we may at least suppose
this,) that reason has the same power of intuitive insight in relation
to certain moral and spiritual truths, as in relation to the truths of
geometry, then it would be equally impossible to divest us of our
belief of those truths.
Furthermore, we are not only unable to believe the same proposition to
be false, which our reason sees to be true, but we cannot believe
another proposition, which by the exercise of the same rational
faculty we see to be incompatible with the former, or to contradict
it. We may, and probably often do, receive with a certain kind and
degree of credence opinions, which reflection would show to be
incompatible. But when we have reflected, and discovered the
inconsistency, we cannot retain both. We cannot believe two
contradictory propositions knowing them to be such. It would be
irrational to do so.
Again, we cannot conceive it possible, that what by the same power of
intuition we see to be universally and necessarily true should appear
otherwise to any other rational being. We cannot, for example, but
consider the propositions of geometry as necessarily true for all
rational beings. So, too, a little reflection, I think, will convince
any one, that we attribute the same necessity of reason to the
principles of moral rectitude. What in the clear daylight of our
reason, and after mature reflection, we see to be right, we cannot
believe to be wrong in the view of other rational beings in the
distinct exercise of their reason. Nay, in regard to those truths,
which are clearly submitted to the view of our reason, and which we
behold with distinct and steadfast intuitions, we necessarily
attribute to the Supreme Reason, to the Divine Mind, views the same,
or coincident, with those of our own reason. We cannot, (I say it with
reverence and I trust with some apprehension of the importance of the
assertion,) we _cannot_ believe that to be right in the view of the
Supreme Reason, which is clearly and decidedly wrong in the view of
our own. It would be contradictory to reason, it would be irrational,
to believe it, and therefore we cannot do so, till we lose our reason,
or cease to exercise it.
I would ask, now, whether this be not an authorized use of the words
reason and rational, and whether so used they do not mean something.
If it be so--and I appeal to the mind of every man capable of
reflection, and of under standing the use of language, if it be
not--then there is meaning in the terms _universal reason_, and _unity
of reason_, as used in this Work. There is, and can be, in this
highest sense of the word but one reason, and whatever contradicts
that reason, being seen to do so, cannot be received as matter either
of knowledge or faith. To reconcile religion with reason used in this
sense, therefore, and to justify the ways of God to man, or in the
view of reason, is so far from being irrational that reason
imperatively demands it of us. We cannot, as rational beings, believe
a proposition on the grounds of reason, and deny it on the authority
of revelation. We cannot believe a proposition in philosophy, and deny
the same proposition in theology; nor can we believe two incompatible
propositions on the different grounds of reason and revelation. So
far as we compare our thoughts, the objects of our knowledge and
faith, and by reflection refer them to their common measure in the
universal laws of reason, so far the instinct of reason impels us to
reject whatever is contradictory and absurd, and to bring unity and
consistency into all our views of truth. Thus, in the language of the
Author of this Work, though "the word _rational_ has been strangely
abused of late times, this must not disincline us to the weighty
consideration, that thoughtfulness, and a desire to rest all our
convictions on grounds of right reason, are inseparable from the
character of a Christian."[10]
But I beg the reader to observe, that in relation to the doctrines of
spiritual religion--to all that he considers the peculiar doctrines of
the Christian revelation, the Author assigns to reason only a negative
validity. It does not teach us what those doctrines are, or what they
are not, except that they are not, and cannot be, such as contradict
the clear convictions of right reason. But his views on this point are
fully stated in the Work.[11]
If then it be our prerogative, as rational beings, and our duty as
Christians, to think, as well as to act, _rationally_,--to see that
our convictions of truth rest on the grounds of right reason; and if
it be one of the clearest dictates of reason, that we should endeavour
to shun, and on discovery should reject, whatever is contradictory to
the universal laws of thought, or to doctrines already established, I
know not by what means we are to avoid the application of philosophy,
at least to some extent, in the study of theology. For to determine
what _are_ the grounds of right reason, what are those ultimate
truths, and those universal laws of thought, which we cannot
rationally contradict, and by reflection to compare with these
whatever is proposed for our belief, is in fact to philosophize; and
whoever does this to a greater or less extent, is so far a philosopher
in the best and highest sense of the word. To this extent we are bound
to philosophize in theology, as well as in every other science. For
what is not rational in theology, is, of course, irrational, and
cannot be of the household of faith; and to determine whether it be
rational in the sense already explained or not, is the province of
philosophy. It is in this sense that the Work before us is to be
considered a philosophical work, namely, that it proves the doctrines
of the Christian Faith to be rational, and exhibits philosophical
grounds for the _possibility_ of a truly spiritual religion. The
_reality_ of those experiences, or states of being, which constitute
experimental or spiritual religion, rests on other grounds. It is
incumbent on the philosopher to free them from the contradictions of
reason, and nothing more; and who will deny, that to do this is a
purpose worthy of the ablest philosopher and the most devoted
Christian? Is it not desirable to convince all men that the doctrines,
which we affirm to be revealed in the Gospel, are not contradictory to
the requirements of reason and conscience? Is it not, on the other
hand, vastly important to the cause of religious truth, and even to
the practical influence of religion on our own minds, and the minds of
the community at large, that we should attain and exhibit views of
philosophy and doctrines in metaphysics, which are at least compatible
with, if they do not specially favour, those views of religion, which,
on other grounds, we find it our duty to believe and maintain? For, I
beg it may be observed, as a point of great moment, that it is not the
method of the genuine philosopher to separate his philosophy and
religion, and adopting his principles independently in each, to leave
them to be reconciled or not, as the case may be. He has, and can
have, rationally but one system, in which his philosophy becomes
religious, and his religion philosophical. Nor am I disposed in
compliance with public opinion to limit the application of this
remark, as is usually done, to the mere external evidences of
revelation. The philosophy which we adopt will and must influence not
only our decision of the question, whether a book be of divine
authority, but our views also of its meaning.
But this is a subject, on which, if possible, I would avoid being
misunderstood, and must, therefore, exhibit it more fully, even at the
risk of repeating what was said before, or is elsewhere found in the
Work. It has been already, I believe, distinctly enough stated, that
reason and philosophy ought to prevent our reception of doctrines
claiming the authority of revelation only so far as the very
necessities of our rational being require. However mysterious the
thing affirmed may be, though _it passeth all understanding_, if it
cannot be shown to contradict the unchangeable principles of right
reason, its being incomprehensible to our understandings is not an
obstacle to our faith. If it contradict reason, we cannot believe it,
but must conclude, either that the writing is not of divine authority,
or that the language has been misinterpreted. So far it seems to me,
that our philosophy ought to modify our views of theological
doctrines, and our mode of interpreting the language of an inspired
writer. But then we must be cautious, that we philosophize rightly,
and "do not call _that_ reason which is not so." Otherwise we may be
led by the supposed requirements of reason to interpret
metaphorically, what ought to be received literally, and evacuate the
Scriptures of their most important doctrines. But what I mean to say
here is, that we cannot avoid the application of our philosophy in the
interpretation of the language of Scripture, and in the explanation of
the doctrines of religion generally. We cannot avoid incurring the
danger just alluded to of philosophizing erroneously, even to the
extent of rejecting as irrational that which tends to the perfection
of reason itself. And hence I maintain, that instead of pretending to
exclude philosophy from our religious inquiries, it is very important
that we philosophize in earnest--that we should endeavour by profound
reflection to learn the real requirements of reason, and attain a true
knowledge of ourselves.
If any dispute the necessity of thus combining the study of philosophy
with that of religion, I would beg them to point out the age since
that of the Apostles, in which the prevailing metaphysical opinions
have not distinctly manifested themselves in the prevailing views of
religion; and if, as I fully believe will be the case, they fail to
discover a single system of theology, a single volume on the subject
of the Christian religion, in which the author's views are not
modified by the metaphysical opinions of the age or of the individual,
it would be desirable to ascertain, whether this influence be
accidental or necessary. The metaphysician analyzes the faculties and
operations of the human mind, and teaches us to arrange, to classify,
and to name them, according to his views of their various
distinctions. The language of the Scriptures, at least to a great
extent, speaks of subjects that can be understood only by a reference
to those same powers and processes of thought and feeling, which we
have learned to think of, and to name, according to our particular
system of metaphysics. How is it possible then to avoid interpreting
the one by the other? Let us suppose, for example, that a man has
studied and adopted the philosophy of Brown, is it possible for him to
interpret the 8th chapter of Romans, without having his views of its
meaning influenced by his philosophy? Would he not unavoidably
interpret the language and explain the doctrines, which it contains,
differently from one, who should have adopted such views of the human
mind as are taught in this Work? I know it is customary to disclaim
the influence of philosophy in the business of interpretation, and
every writer now-a-days on such subjects will assure us, that he has
nothing to do with metaphysics, but is guided only by common sense and
the laws of interpretation. But I should like to know how a man comes
by any common sense in relation to the movements and laws of his
intellectual and moral being without metaphysics. What is the common
sense of a Hottentot on subjects of this sort? I have no hesitation in
saying, that from the very nature of the case, it is nearly, if not
quite, impossible for any man entirely to separate his philosophical
views of the human mind from his reflections on religious subjects.
Probably no man has endeavoured more faithfully to do this, perhaps no
one has succeeded better in giving the truth of Scripture free from
the glosses of metaphysics, than Professor Stuart. Yet, I should risk
little in saying that a reader deeply versed in the language of
metaphysics, extensively acquainted with the philosophy of different
ages, and the peculiar phraseology of different schools, might
ascertain his metaphysical system from many a passage of his
Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews. What then, let me ask, is
the possible use to the cause of truth and of religion, from thus
perpetually decrying philosophy in theological inquiries, when we
cannot avoid it if we would? Every man, who has reflected at all, has
his metaphysics; and if he reads on religious subjects, he interprets
and understands the language which he employs, by the help of his
metaphysics. He cannot do otherwise.--And the proper inquiry is, not
whether we admit our philosophy into our theological and religious
investigations, but whether our philosophy be right and true. For
myself, I am fully convinced that we can have no right views of
theology, till we have right views of the human mind; and that these
are to be acquired only by laborious and persevering reflection. My
belief is, that the distinctions unfolded in this Work will place us
in the way to truth, and relieve us from numerous perplexities, in
which we are involved by the philosophy which we have so long taken
for our guide. For we are greatly deceived, if we suppose for a moment
that the systems of theology which have been received among us, or
even the theoretical views which are now most popular, are free from
the entanglements of worldly wisdom. The readers of this Work will be
able to see, I think, more clearly the import of this remark, and the
true bearing of the received views of philosophy on our theological
inquiries. Those who study the Work without prejudice, and adopt its
principles to any considerable extent, will understand too how deeply
an age may be ensnared in the metaphysical webs of its own weaving, or
entangled in the net which the speculations of a former generation
have thrown over it, and yet suppose itself blessed with a perfect
immunity from the dreaded evils of metaphysics.
But before I proceed to remark on those particulars, in which our
prevailing philosophy seems to be dangerous in its tendency, and
unfriendly to the cause of spiritual religion, I must beg leave to
guard myself and the Work from misapprehension on another point of
great importance in its relation to the whole subject. While it is
maintained that reason and philosophy, in their true character,
_ought_ to have a certain degree and extent of influence in the
formation of our religious system, and that our metaphysical opinions,
whatever they may be, _will_ almost unavoidably, modify more or less
our theoretical views of religious truth _generally_, it is yet a
special object of the Author of the Work to show that the spiritual
life, or what among us is termed experimental religion, is, in itself,
and in its own proper growth and development, essentially distinct
from the forms and processes of the understanding; and that, although
a true faith cannot contradict any universal principle of speculative
reason, it is yet in a certain sense independent of the discursions
of philosophy, and in its proper nature beyond the reach "of positive
science and theoretical _insight_." "Christianity is not a _theory_ or
a _speculation_; but a _life_. Not a _philosophy_ of life, but a life
and a living process." It is not, therefore, so properly a species of
knowledge, as a form of being. And although the theoretical views of
the understanding, and the motives of prudence which it presents, may
be, to a certain extent, connected with the development of the
spiritual principle of religious life in the Christian, yet a true and
living faith is not incompatible with at least some degree of
speculative error. As the acquisition of merely speculative knowledge
cannot of itself communicate the principle of spiritual life, so
neither does that principle, and the living process of its growth,
depend wholly, at least, upon the degree of speculative knowledge with
which it co-exists. That religion, of which our blessed Saviour is
himself the essential Form and the living Word, and to which he
imparts the actuating Spirit, has a principle of unity and consistency
in itself distinct from the unity and consistency of our theoretical
views. Of this we have evidence in every day's observation of
Christian character; for how often do we see and acknowledge the power
of religion, and the growth of a spiritual life in minds but little
gifted with speculative knowledge, and little versed in the forms of
logic or philosophy! How obviously, too, does the living principle of
religion manifest the same specific character, the same essential
form, amidst all the diversities of condition, of talents, of
education, and natural disposition, with which it is associated; every
where rising above nature, and the powers of the natural man, and
unlimited in its goings on by the forms in which the understanding
seeks to comprehend and confine its spiritual energies. _There are
diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit_: and it is no less true now
than in the age of the Apostles, that in all lands, and in every
variety of circumstances, the manifestations of spiritual life are
essentially the same; and all who truly believe in heart, however
diverse in natural condition, in the character of their
understandings, and even in their theoretical views of truth, are
_one_ in _Christ Jesus_. The essential faith is not to be found in the
understanding or the speculative theory, but "the _life_, the
_substance_, the _hope_, the _love_--in one word, the _faith_--these
are derivatives from the practical, moral, and spiritual nature and
being of man." Speculative systems of theology indeed have often had
little connection with the essential spirit of religion, and are
usually little more than schemes resulting from the strivings of the
finite understanding to comprehend and exhibit under its own forms and
conditions a mode of being and spiritual truths essentially diverse
from their proper objects, and with which they are incommensurate.
This I am aware is an imperfect, and I fear may be an unintelligible,
view of a subject exceedingly difficult of apprehension at the best.
If so, I must beg the reader's indulgence, and request him to suspend
his judgment, as to the absolute intelligibility of it, till he
becomes acquainted with the language and sentiments of the Work
itself. It will, however, I hope, be so far understood, at least, as
to answer the purpose for which it was introduced--of precluding the
supposition that, in the remarks which preceded, or in those which
follow, any suspicion was intended to be expressed, with regard to the
religious principles or the essential faith of those who hold the
opinions in question. According to this view of the inherent and
essential nature of Spiritual Religion, as existing in the _practical
reason_ of man, we may not only admit, but can better understand the
possibility of what every charitable Christian will acknowledge to be
a fact, so far as human observation can determine facts of this
sort--that a man may be truly religious, and essentially a believer at
heart, while his understanding is sadly bewildered with the attempt
to comprehend and express philosophically, what yet he feels and knows
spiritually. It is indeed impossible for us to tell, how far the
understanding may impose upon itself by partial views and false
disguises, without perverting the will, or estranging it from the laws
and the authority of reason and the divine word. We cannot say to what
extent a false system of philosophy and metaphysical opinions, which
in their natural and uncounteracted tendency would go to destroy all
religion, may be received in a Christian community, and yet the power
of spiritual religion retain its hold and its efficacy in the hearts
of the people. We may perhaps believe that in opposition to all the
might of false philosophy, so long as the great body of the people
have the Bible in their hands, and are taught to reverence and receive
its heavenly instructions, though the Church may suffer injury from
unwise and unfruitful speculations, it will yet be preserved; and that
the spiritual seed of the divine word, though mingled with many tares
of worldly wisdom and philosophy falsely so called, will yet spring
up, and bear fruit unto everlasting life.
But though we may hope and believe this, we cannot avoid believing, at
the same time, that injury must result from an unsuspecting confidence
in metaphysical opinions, which are essentially at variance with the
doctrines of Revelation. Especially must the effect be injurious,
where those opinions lead gradually to alter our views of religion
itself and of all that is peculiar in the Christian system. The great
mass of the community, who know little of metaphysics, and whose faith
in Revelation is not so readily influenced by speculations not
immediately connected with it, may, indeed, for a time, escape the
evil, and continue to _receive with meekness the ingrafted word_. But
in the minds of the better educated, especially those who think and
follow out their conclusions with resolute independence of thought,
the result must be either a loss of confidence in the opinions
themselves, or a rejection of all those parts of the Christian system
which are at variance with them. Under particular circumstances,
indeed, where both the metaphysical errors, and the great doctrines of
the Christian Faith, have a strong hold upon the minds of a community,
a protracted struggle may take place, and earnest and long-continued
efforts may be made to reconcile opinions which we are resolved to
maintain, with a faith which our consciences will not permit us to
abandon. But so long as the effort continues and such opinions retain
their hold upon our confidence, it must be by some diminution of the
fulness and simplicity of our faith. To a greater or less degree,
according to the education and habits of thought in different
individuals, the word of God is received with doubt, or with such
glozing modifications as enervate its power. Thus the light from
heaven is intercepted, and we are left to a shadow-fight of
metaphysical schemes and metaphorical interpretations. While one
party, with conscientious and earnest endeavours, and at great expense
of talent and ingenuity, contends for the Faith, and among the
possible shapings of the received metaphysical system, seeks that
which will best comport with the simplicity of the Gospel,--another
more boldly interprets the language of the Gospel itself in conformity
with those views of religion to which their philosophy seems obviously
to conduct them. The substantial being and the living energy of the
WORD, which is not only the light but the life of men, is either
misapprehended or denied by all parties: and even those who contend
for what they conceive the literal import of the Gospel, do it--as
they must, to avoid too glaring absurdity--with such explanations of
its import as make it to become, in no small degree, the _words of
man's wisdom_, rather than a simple _demonstration of the Spirit, and
of power_. Hence, although such as have experienced the spiritual and
life-giving power of the Divine Word, may be able, through the
promised aids of the Spirit, to overcome the natural tendency of
speculative error, and, by _the law of the Spirit of life_ which is in
them, may at length be made _free from the law of sin and death_, yet
who can tell how much they may lose of the blessings of the Gospel,
and be retarded in their spiritual growth when they are but too often
fed with the lifeless and starveling products of the human
understanding, instead of that _living bread which came down from
heaven_? Who can tell, moreover, how many, through the prevalence of
such philosophical errors as lead to misconceptions of the truth or
create a prejudice against it, and thus tend to intercept the light
from heaven, may continue in their ignorance, _alienated from the life
of God_, and groping in the darkness of their own understandings?
But however that may be, enlightened Christians, and especially
Christian instructors, know it to be their duty, as far as possible,
to prepare the way for the full and unobstructed influence of the
Gospel, to do all in their power to remove those natural prejudices,
and those errors of the understanding, which are obstacles to the
truth, that the word of God may find access to the heart, and
conscience, and reason of every man, that it may have _free course,
and run, and be glorified_. My own belief, that such obstacles to the
influence of truth exist in the speculative and metaphysical opinions
generally adopted in this country, and that the present Work is in
some measure at least calculated to remove them, is pretty clearly
indicated by the remarks which I have already made. But, to be
perfectly explicit on the subject I do not hesitate to express my
conviction, that the natural tendency of some of the leading
principles of our prevailing system of metaphysics, and those which
must unavoidably have more or less influence on our theoretical views
of religion, are of an injurious and dangerous tendency, and that so
long as we retain them, however we may profess to exclude their
influence from our theological inquiries, and from the interpretation
of Scripture, we can maintain no consistent system of Scriptural
theology, nor clearly and distinctly apprehend the spiritual import of
the Scripture language. The grounds of this conviction I shall proceed
to exhibit, though only in a partial manner, as I could not do more
without anticipating the contents of the Work itself, instead of
merely preparing the reader to peruse them with attention. I am aware,
too, that some of the language, which I have already employed, and
shall be obliged to employ, will not convey its full import to the
reader, till he becomes acquainted with some of the leading principles
and distinctions unfolded in the Work. But this also is an evil which
I saw no means of avoiding without incurring a greater, and writing a
book instead of a brief essay.
Let it be understood, then, without further preface, that by the
prevailing system of metaphysics, I mean the system, of which in
modern times Locke is the reputed author, and the leading principles
of which, with various modifications, more or less important, but not
altering its essential character, have been almost universally
received in this country. It should be observed, too, that the causes
enumerated by the Author, as having elevated it to its "pride of
place" in Europe, have been aided by other favouring circumstances
here. In the minds of our religious community, especially, some of its
most important doctrines have become associated with names justly
loved and revered among ourselves, and so connected with all our
theoretical views of religion, that a man can hardly hope to question
their validity without hazarding his reputation, not only for
orthodoxy, but even for common sense. To controvert, for example, the
prevailing doctrines with regard to the freedom of the will, the
sources of our knowledge, the nature of the understanding as
containing the controlling principles of our whole being, and the
universality of the law of cause and effect, even in connection with
the argument and the authority of the most powerful intellect of the
age, may even now be worse than in vain. Yet I have reasons for
believing there are some among us, and that their number is fast
increasing, who are willing to revise their opinions on these
subjects, and who will contemplate the views presented in this Work
with a liberal, and something of a prepared feeling, of curiosity. The
difficulties in which men find themselves involved by the received
doctrines on these subjects, in their most anxious efforts to explain
and defend the peculiar doctrines of spiritual religion, have led many
to suspect that there must be some lurking error in the premises. It
is not that these principles lead us to mysteries which we cannot
comprehend; they are found, or believed at least by many, to involve
us in absurdities which we can comprehend. It is necessary indeed only
to form some notion of the distinctive and appropriate import of the
term spiritual, as opposed to natural in the New Testament, and then
to look at the writings, or hear the discussions, in which the
doctrines of the Spirit and of spiritual influences are taught and
defended, to see the insurmountable nature of the obstacles, which
these metaphysical dogmas throw in the way of the most powerful minds.
To those who shall read this Work with any degree of reflection, it
must, I think, be obvious, that something more is implied in the
continual opposition of these terms in the New Testament, than can be
explained consistently with the prevailing opinions on the subjects
above enumerated; and that through their influence our highest notions
of that distinction have been rendered confused, contradictory, and
inadequate. I have already directed the attention of the reader to
those parts of the Work, where this distinction is unfolded; and had I
no other grounds than the arguments and views there exhibited, I
should be convinced that so long as we hold the doctrines of Locke and
the Scotch metaphysicians respecting power, cause and effect, motives,
and the freedom of the will, we not only can make and defend no
essential distinction between that which is _natural_, and that which
is _spiritual_, but we cannot even find rational grounds for the
feeling of _moral obligation_, and the distinction between _regret_
and _remorse_.
According to the system of these authors, as nearly and distinctly as
my limits will permit me to state it, the same law of cause and effect
is the law of the universe. It extends to the moral and spiritual--if
in courtesy these terms may still be used--no less than to the
properly natural powers and agencies of our being. The acts of the
free-will are pre-determined by a cause _out of the will_, according
to the same law of cause and effect which controls the changes in the
physical world. We have no notion of power but uniformity of
antecedent and consequent. The notion of a power in the will to act
freely is therefore nothing more than an inherent capacity of being
acted upon, agreeably to its nature, and according to a fixed law, by
the motives which are present in the understanding. I feel authorized
to take this statement partly from Brown's Philosophy, because that
work has been decidedly approved by our highest theological
authorities; and indeed it would not be essentially varied, if
expressed in the precise terms used by any of the writers most usually
quoted in reference to these subjects.
I am aware that variations may be found in the mode of stating these
doctrines, but I think every candid reader, who is acquainted with the
metaphysics and theology of this country, will admit the above to be a
fair representation of the form in which they are generally received.
I am aware, too, that much has been said and written to make out,
consistently with these general principles, a distinction between
natural and moral causes, natural and moral ability, and inability,
and the like. But I beg all lovers of sound and rational philosophy to
look carefully at the general principles, and see whether there be, in
fact, ground left for any such distinctions of this kind as are worth
contending for. My first step in arguing with a defender of these
principles, and of the distinctions in question, as connected with
them, would be to ask for his definition of nature and _natural_. And
when he had arrived at a distinctive general notion of the import of
these, it would appear, if I mistake not, that he had first subjected
our whole being to the law of nature, and then contended for the
existence of something which is not nature. For in their relation to
the law of moral rectitude, and to the feeling of moral
responsibility, what difference is there, and what difference can
there be, between what are called natural and those which are called
moral powers and affections, if they are all under the control of the
same universal _law_ of cause and effect? If it still be a mere
nature, and the determinations of our will be controlled by causes out
of the will, according to our nature, then I maintain that a moral
nature has no more to do with the feeling of responsibility than any
other nature.
Perhaps the difficulty may be made more obvious in this way. It will
be admitted that brutes are possessed of various natures, some
innocent or useful, otherwise noxious, but all alike irresponsible in
a moral point of view. But why? Simply because they act in accordance
with their natures. They possess, each according to its proper nature,
certain appetites and susceptibilities which are stimulated and acted
upon by their appropriate objects in the world of the senses; and the
relation--the law of action and reaction--subsisting between these
specific susceptibilities and their corresponding outward objects,
constitutes their nature. They have a power of selecting and choosing
in the world of sense the objects appropriate to the wants of their
nature; but that nature is the sole law of their being. Their power of
choice is but a part of it, instrumental in accomplishing its ends,
but not capable of rising above it, of controlling its impulses, and
of determining itself with reference to a purely ideal law, distinct
from their nature. They act in accordance with the law of cause and
effect, which constitutes their several natures, and cannot do
otherwise. They are, therefore not responsible--not capable of guilt,
or of remorse.
Now let us suppose another being, possessing, in addition to the
susceptibilities of the brute, certain other specific susceptibilities
with their correlative objects, either in the sensible world, or in a
future world, but that these are subjected, like the other, to the
same binding and inalienable law of cause and effect. What, I ask, is
the amount of the difference thus supposed between this being and the
brute? The supposed addition, it is to be understood, is merely an
addition to its nature; and the only power of will belonging to it is,
as in the case of the brute, only a capacity of choosing and acting
uniformly in accordance with its nature. These additional
susceptibilities still act but as they are acted upon; and the will is
determined accordingly. What advantage is gained in this case by
calling these supposed additions moral affections, and their
correlative stimulants moral causes? Do we thereby find any rational
ground for the feeling of moral responsibility, for conscience, for
remorse? The being acts according to its nature, and why is it
blameworthy more than the brute? If the moral law existing out of the
will be a power or cause which, in its relation to the specific
susceptibility of the moral being, produces under the same
circumstances uniformly the same result, according to the law of cause
and effect; if the acts of the will be subject to the same law, as
mere links in the chain of antecedents and consequents, and thus a
part of our nature, what is gained, I ask again, by the distinction of
a moral and a physical nature? It is still only a nature under the law
of cause and effect, and the liberty of the moral being is under the
same condition with the liberty of the brute. Both are free to follow
and fulfil the law of their nature, and both are alike bound by that
law, as by an adamantine chain. The very conditions of the law
preclude the possibility of a power to act otherwise than according to
their nature. They preclude the very idea of a free-will, and render
the feeling of moral responsibility not an enigma merely, not a
mystery, but a self-contradiction and an absurdity.
Turn the matter as we will--call these correlatives, namely, the
inherent susceptibilities and the causes acting on them from without,
natural, or moral, or spiritual--so long as their action and reaction,
or the law of reciprocity, which constitutes their specific natures,
is considered as the controlling law of our whole being, so long as we
refuse to admit the existence in the will of a power capable of rising
above this law, and controlling its operation by an act of absolute
self-determination, so long we shall be involved in perplexities both
in morals and religion. At all events, the only method of avoiding
them will be to adopt the creed of the Necessitarians entire, to give
man over to an irresponsible nature as a better sort of animal, and
resolve the will of the Supreme Reason into a blind and irrational
Fate.
I am well aware of the objections that will be made to this statement,
and especially the demonstrated incomprehensibleness of a
self-determining power. To this I may be permitted to answer, that,
admitting the power to originate an act or state of mind may be beyond
the capacity of our understandings to comprehend, it is still not
contradictory to reason; and that I find it more easy to believe the
existence of that which is simply incomprehensible to my
understanding, than of that which involves an absurdity for my
reason. I venture to affirm, moreover, that however we may bring our
understandings into bondage to the more comprehensible doctrine,
simply because it is comprehensible under the forms of the
understanding, every man does, in fact, believe himself possessed of
freedom in the higher sense of self-determination. Every man's
conscience commands him to believe it, as the only rational ground of
moral responsibility. Every man's conscience, too, betrays the fact
that he does believe it, whenever for a moment he indulges the feeling
either of moral self-approbation, or of remorse. Nor can we on any
other grounds justify the ways of God to man upon the supposition that
he inflicts or will inflict any other punishment than that which is
simply remedial or disciplinary. But this subject will be found more
fully explained in the course of the Work. My present object is merely
to show the necessity of some system in relation to these subjects
different from the received one.
It may perhaps be thought, that the language used above is too strong
and too positive. But I venture to ask every candid man, at least
every one who has not committed himself by writing and publishing on
the subject, whether in considering the great questions connected with
moral accountability and the doctrine of rewards and punishments, he
has not felt himself pressed with such difficulties as those above
stated; and whether he has ever been able fully to satisfy his reason,
that there was not a lurking contradiction in the idea of a being
created and placed under the law of its nature, and possessing at the
same time a feeling of moral obligation to fulfil a law above its
nature. That many have been in this state of mind I know. I know, too,
that some whose moral and religious feelings had led them to a full
belief in the doctrines of spiritual religion, but who at the same
time had been taught to receive the prevailing opinions in
metaphysics, have found these opinions carrying them unavoidably, if
they would be consequent in their reasonings, and not do violence to
their reason, to adopt a system of religion which does not profess to
be spiritual, and thus have been compelled to choose between their
philosophy and their religion. In most cases indeed, where men reflect
at all, I am satisfied that it requires all the force of authority,
and all the influence of education, to carry the mind over these
difficulties; and that then it is only by a vague belief that, though
we cannot see how, there must be some method of reconciling what seems
to be so contradictory.
If examples were wanting to prove that serious and trying difficulties
are felt to exist here, enough may be found, as it has appeared to me,
in the controversy respecting the nature and origin of sin, which is
at this moment interesting the public mind. Let any impartial observer
trace the progress of that discussion, and after examining the
distinctions which are made or attempted to be made, decide whether
the subject, as there presented, be not involved in difficulties,
which cannot be solved on the principles to which, hitherto, both
parties have adhered; whether, holding as they do the same premises in
regard to the freedom of the will, they can avoid coming to the same
conclusion in regard to the nature and origin of sin; whether in fact
the distinctions aimed at must not prove merely verbal distinctions,
and the controversy a fruitless one. But in the September number of
the "Christian Spectator" for 1829,[12] the reader will find remarks
on this subject, to which I beg leave to refer him, and which I could
wish him attentively to consider in connection with the remarks which
I have made. I allude to the correspondence with the editors near the
end of the number. The letter there inserted is said to be, and
obviously is, from the pen of a very learned and able writer; and I
confess it has been no small gratification and encouragement to me,
while labouring to bring this Work and this subject before the public,
to find such a state of feeling expressed, concerning the great
question at issue, by such a writer. It will be seen by reference to
p. 545 of the C. S., that he places the "_nucleus_ of the dispute"
just where it is placed in this Work and in the above remarks. It will
be seen, too, that by throwing authorities aside, and studying his own
mind, he has "come seriously to doubt," whether the received opinions
with regard to _motives_, the law of _cause and effect_, and the
_freedom of the will_, may not be erroneous. They appear to him "to be
bordering on fatalism, if not actually embracing it." He doubts
whether the mind may not have within itself the adequate cause of its
own acts; whether indeed it have not a self-determining power, "for
the power in question involves the idea of originating volition. Less
than this it cannot be conceived to involve, and yet be _free_
agency." Now, this is just the view offered in the present Work; and,
as it seems to me, these are just the doubts and conclusions which
every one will entertain, who lays aside authority, and reflects upon
the goings-on of his own mind, and the dictates of his own reason and
conscience.
But let us look for a moment at the remarks of the editors in reply to
the letter above quoted. They maintain, in relation to original sin
and the perversion of the will, that from either the _original_ or the
_acquired_ strength of certain natural appetites, principles of
self-love, &c., "left to themselves," the corruption of the heart will
certainly follow. "In every instance the will does, in fact, yield to
the demands of these. But whenever it thus yielded, _there was power
to the contrary_; otherwise there could be no freedom of moral
action." Now I beg leave to place my finger on the phrase in italics,
and ask the editors what they mean by it. If they hold the common
doctrines with regard to the relation of cause and effect, and with
regard to power as connected with that relation, and apply these to
the acts of the will, I can see no more possibility of conceiving a
_power to the contrary_ in this case, than of conceiving such a power
in the current of a river. But if they mean to assert the existence in
the will of an _actual_ power to rise above the demands of appetite,
&c., above the law of nature and to decide _arbitrarily_, whether to
yield or not to yield, then they admit that the will is not determined
_absolutely_ by the extraneous _cause_, but is in fact _self_-determined.
They agree with the letter-writer; and the question for them is at
rest. Thus, whatever distinctions may be attempted here, there can be
no real distinction but between an irresponsible nature and a will
that is self-determined.
I cannot but be aware, that the views of the Will here exhibited will
meet with strong prejudices in a large portion, at least, of our
religious community. I could wish that all such would carefully
distinguish between the Author's views of the doctrines of religion
and the philosophical grounds on which he supposes those doctrines are
to be defended. If no one disputes, and I trust no one will dispute,
the substantial orthodoxy of the Work, without first carefully
examining what has been the orthodoxy of the church in general, and of
the great body of the Reformers, then I should hope it may be wisely
considered, whether, as a question of philosophy, the metaphysical
principles of this Work are not in themselves more in accordance with
the doctrines of a spiritual religion, and better suited to their
explanation and defence, than those above treated of. If on
examination it cannot be disputed that they are, then, if not before,
I trust the two systems may be compared without undue partiality, and
the simple question of the truth of each may be determined by that
calm and persevering reflection, which alone can determine questions
of this sort.
If the system here taught be true, then it will follow, not, be it
observed, that our religion is necessarily wrong, or our essential
faith erroneous, but that the _philosophical grounds_, on which we are
accustomed to defend our faith, are unsafe, and that their _natural
tendency_ is to error. If the spirit of the Gospel still exert its
influence; if a truly spiritual religion be maintained, it is in
_opposition_ to our philosophy, and not at all by its aid. I know it
will be said, that the practical results of our peculiar forms of
doctrine are at variance with these remarks. But this I am not
prepared to admit. True, religion and religious institutions have
flourished; the Gospel, in many parts of our country, has been
affectionately and faithfully preached by great and good men; the word
and the Spirit of God have been communicated to us in rich abundance;
and I rejoice with heartfelt joy and thanksgiving, in the belief, that
thereby multitudes have been regenerated to a new and spiritual life.
But so were equal or greater effects produced under the preaching of
Baxter, and Howe, and other good and faithful men of the same age,
with none of the peculiarities of our theological systems. Neither
reason nor experience indeed furnish any ground for believing that the
living and life-giving power of the Divine Word has ever derived any
portion of its efficacy, in the conversion of the heart to God, from
the forms of metaphysical theology, with which the human understanding
has invested it. It requires, moreover, but little knowledge of the
history of philosophy, and of the writings of the 16th and 17th
centuries to know, that the opinions of the Reformers, and of all the
great divines of that period, on subjects of this sort, were far
different from those of Mr. Locke and his followers, and were in fact
essentially the same with those taught in this Work. This last remark
applies not only to the views entertained by the eminent philosophers
and divines of that period on the particular subject above discussed,
but to the distinctions made, and the language employed, by them with
reference to other points of no less importance in the constitution of
our being.
It must have been observed by the reader of the foregoing pages, that
I have used several words, especially _understanding_ and _reason_, in
a sense somewhat diverse from their present acceptation; and the
occasion of this I suppose would be partly understood from my having
already directed the attention of the reader to the distinction
exhibited between these words in the Work, and from the remarks made
on the ambiguity of the word "reason" in its common use. I now proceed
to remark, that the ambiguity spoken of, and the consequent perplexity
in regard to the use and authority of reason, have arisen from the
habit of using, since the time of Locke, the terms understanding and
reason indiscriminately, and thus confounding a distinction clearly
marked in the philosophy and in the language of the older writers.
Alas! had the _terms_ only been confounded, or had we suffered only an
inconvenient ambiguity of language, there would be comparatively
little cause for earnestness upon the subject; or had our views of the
things signified by these terms been only partially confused, and had
we still retained correct notions of our prerogative, as rational and
spiritual beings, the consequences might have been less deplorable.
But the misfortune is, that the powers of understanding and reason
have not merely been blended and confounded in the view of our
philosophy, the higher and far more characteristic, as an essential
constituent of our proper humanity, has been as it were obscured and
hidden from our observation in the inferior power, which belongs to
us in common with the brutes which perish. According to the old, the
more spiritual, and genuine philosophy, the distinguishing attributes
of our humanity--that _image_ of God in which man alone was created of
all the dwellers upon earth, and in virtue of which he was placed at
the head of this lower world, was said to be found in the _reason_ and
_free-will_. But understanding these in their strict and proper sense,
and according to the true _ideas_ of them, as contemplated by the
older metaphysicians, we have literally, if the system of Locke and
the popular philosophy of the day be true, neither the one nor the
other of these--neither reason nor free-will. What they esteemed the
image of God in the soul, and considered as distinguishing us
specifically, and so vastly too, above each and all of the irrational
animals, is found, according to this system, to have in fact no real
existence. The reality neither of the free-will, nor of any of those
laws or ideas, which spring from, or rather constitute reason, can be
authenticated by the sort of proof which is demanded, and we must
therefore relinquish our prerogative, and take our place with becoming
humility among our more unpretending companions. In the ascending
series of powers, enumerated by Milton, with so much philosophical
truth, as well as beauty of language, in the fifth book of Paradise
Lost, he mentions
_Fancy_ and _understanding_, whence the soul
REASON receives. And reason is her _being_,
Discursive or intuitive.
But the highest power here, that which is the being of the soul,
considered as any thing differing in kind from the understanding, has
no place in our popular metaphysics. Thus we have only the
_understanding_, "the faculty judging according to sense," a faculty
of abstracting and generalizing, of contrivance and forecast, as the
highest of our intellectual powers; and this, we are expressly
taught, belongs to us in common with brutes. Nay, these views of our
essential being, consequences and all, are adopted by men, whom one
would suppose religion, if not philosophy, should have taught their
utter inadequateness to the true and essential constituents of our
humanity. Dr. Paley tells us in his Natural Theology, that only
"CONTRIVANCE," a power obviously and confessedly belonging to brutes,
is necessary to constitute _personality_. His whole system both of
theology and morals neither teaches, nor implies, the existence of any
specific difference either between the understanding and reason, or
between nature and the will. It does not imply the existence of any
power in man, which does not obviously belong, in a greater or less
degree, to irrational animals. Dr. Fleming, another reverend prelate
in the English Church, in his "Philosophy of Zoology," maintains in
express terms that we have no faculties differing in kind from those
which belong to brutes. How many other learned, and reverend, and wise
men adopt the same opinions, I know not: though these are obviously
not the peculiar views of the individuals, but conclusions resulting
from the essential principles of their system. If, then, there is no
better _system_, if this be the genuine philosophy, and founded in the
nature of things, there is no help for us, and we must believe it--_if
we can_. But most certainly it will follow, that we ought, as fast as
the prejudices of education will permit, to rid ourselves of certain
notions of prerogative, and certain feelings of our own superiority,
which somehow have been strangely prevalent among our race. For though
we have indeed, according to this system, a little _more_
understanding than other animals--can abstract and generalize and
forecast events, and the consequences of our actions, and compare
motives _more_ skilfully than they: though we have thus _more_
knowledge and can circumvent them; though we have _more_ power and can
subdue them; yet, as to any _distinctive_ and _peculiar_
characteristic--as to any inherent and essential _worth_, we are after
all but little better--though we may be better off--than our dogs and
horses. There is no essential difference, and we may rationally
doubt--at least we might do so, if by the supposition we were rational
beings--whether our fellow animals of the kennel and the stall are not
unjustly deprived of certain _personal rights_, and whether a dog
charged with trespass may not _rationally_ claim to be tried by a jury
of his _peers_. Now however trifling and ridiculous this may appear, I
would ask in truth and soberness, if it be not a fair and legitimate
inference from the premises, and whether the _absurdity_ of the one
does not _demonstrate_ the utter falsity of the other. And where, I
would beg to know, shall we look, according to the popular system of
philosophy, for that _image of God_ in which we are created? Is it a
thing of _degrees_? And is it simply because we have something _more_
of the same faculties which belong to brutes, that we become the
objects of God's special and fatherly care, the _distinguished_
objects of his Providence, and the _sole_ objects of his Grace?--_Doth
God take care for oxen?_ But why not?
I assure my readers, that I have no desire to treat with disrespect
and contumely the opinions of great or good men; but the distinction
in question, and the assertion and exhibition of the higher
prerogatives of reason, as an essential constituent of our being, are
so vitally important, in my apprehension, to the formation and support
of any rational system of philosophy, and--no less than the
distinction before treated of--so pregnant of consequences to the
interests of truth, in morals, and religion, and indeed of all truth,
that mere opinion and the authority of names may well be disregarded.
The discussion, moreover, relates to facts, and to such facts, too, as
are not to be learned from the instruction, or received on the
authority, of any man. They must be ascertained by every man for
himself, by reflection upon the processes and laws of his own inward
being, or they are not learned at all to any valuable purpose. We do
indeed find in ourselves then, as no one will deny, certain powers of
intelligence, which we have abundant reason to believe the brutes
possess in common with us in a greater or less degree. The functions
of the understanding, as treated of in the popular systems of
metaphysics, its faculties of attention, of abstraction, of
generalization, the power of forethought and contrivance, of adapting
means to ends, and the law of association, may be, so far as we can
judge, severally represented more or less adequately in the
instinctive intelligence of the higher orders of brutes. But, not to
anticipate too far a topic treated of in the Work, do these, or any
and all the faculties which we discover in irrational animals,
satisfactorily account to a reflecting mind for all the _phenomena_
which are presented to our observation in our own consciousness? Would
any supposable addition to the _degree_ merely of those powers which
we ascribe to brutes, render them _rational_ beings, and remove the
sacred distinction, which law and reason have sanctioned, between
things and persons? Will any such addition account for our
having--what the brute is not supposed to have--the pure _ideas_ of
the geometrician, the power of ideal construction, the intuition of
geometrical or other necessary and universal truths? Would it give
rise, in irrational animals, to a _law of moral rectitude_ and _to
conscience_--to the feelings of moral _responsibility_ and _remorse_?
Would it awaken them to a reflective self-consciousness, and lead them
to form and contemplate the _ideas_ of the _soul_, of _free-will_, of
_immortality_, and of God. It seems to me, that we have only to
reflect for a serious hour upon what we mean by these, and then to
compare them with our notion of what belongs to a brute, its inherent
powers and their correlative objects, to feel that they are utterly
incompatible--that in the possession of these we enjoy a prerogative
which we cannot disclaim without a violation of reason, and a
voluntary abasement of ourselves--and that we must therefore be
possessed of some _peculiar_ powers--of some source of ideas
_distinct_ from the understanding, differing _in kind_ from any and
all of those which belong to us in common with inferior and irrational
animals.
But what these powers are, or what is the precise nature of the
distinction between the understanding and reason, it is not my
province, nor have I undertaken, to show. My object is merely to
illustrate its necessity, and the palpable obscurity, vagueness, and
deficiency, in this respect, of the mode of philosophizing, which is
held in so high honour among us. The distinction itself will be found
illustrated with some of its important bearings in the Work, and in
the notes attached to it; and cannot be too carefully studied--in
connection with that between nature and the will--by the student who
would acquire distinct and intelligible notions of what constitutes
the truly spiritual in our being, or find rational grounds for the
possibility of a truly spiritual religion. Indeed, could I succeed in
fixing the attention of the reader upon this distinction, in such a
way as to secure his candid and reflecting perusal of the Work, I
should consider any personal effort or sacrifice abundantly
recompensed. Nor am I alone in this view of its importance. A literary
friend, whose opinion on this subject would be valued by all who knew
the soundness of his scholarship, says in a letter just now
received,--"if you can once get the attention of thinking men fixed on
his distinction between the reason and the understanding, you will
have done enough to reward the labour of a life. As prominent a place
as it holds in the writings of Coleridge, he seems to me far enough
from making too much of it." No person of serious and philosophical
mind, I am confident, can reflect upon the subject, enough to
understand it in its various aspects, without arriving at the same
views of the importance of the distinction, whatever may be his
conviction with regard to its truth.
But, indeed, the only grounds which I find, to apprehend that the
reality of the distinction and the importance of the consequence
resulting from it, will be much longer denied and rejected among us,
is in the overweening assurance which prevails with regard to the
adequateness and perfection of the system of philosophy which is
already received. It is taken for granted, as a fact undisputed and
indisputable, that this is the most enlightened age of the world, not
only with regard to the more general diffusion of certain points of
practical knowledge; in which, probably, it may be so, but _in all
respects_; that our whole system of the philosophy of mind as derived
from Lord Bacon, especially, is the only one, which has any claims to
common sense; and that all distinctions not recognized in that are
consequently unworthy of our regard. What those Reformers, to whose
transcendant powers of mind, and to whose characters as truly
spiritual divines, we are accustomed to look with feelings of so much
general regard, might find to say in favour of their philosophy, few
take the pains to inquire. Neither they nor the great philosophers
with whom they held communion on subjects of this sort can appear
among us to speak in their own defence: and even the huge folios and
quartos, in which, though dead, they yet speak--and ought to be
heard--have seldom strayed to this side of the Atlantic. All our
information respecting their philosophical opinions, and the grounds
on which they defended them, has been received from writers, who were
confessedly advocating a system of recent growth, at open war with
every thing more ancient, and who, in the great abundance of their
self-complacency, have represented their own discoveries as containing
the sum and substance of all philosophy, and the accumulated
treasures of ancient wisdom as unworthy the attention of "this
enlightened age." Be it so--yet the _foolishness_ of antiquity, if it
be _of God_, may prove _wiser than men_. It may be found that the
philosophy of the Reformers and their religion are essentially
connected, and must stand or fall together. It may at length be
discovered that a system of religion essentially spiritual, and a
system of philosophy which excludes the very idea of all spiritual
power and agency, in their only distinctive and proper character,
cannot be consistently associated together.
It is our peculiar misfortune in this country that, while the
philosophy of Locke and the Scottish writers has been received in full
faith, as the only rational system, and its leading principles
especially passed off as unquestionable, the strong attachment to
religion, and the fondness for speculation, by both of which we are
strongly characterized, have led us to combine and associate these
principles, such as they are, with our religious interests and
opinions, so variously and so intimately, that by most persons they
are considered as necessary parts of the same system; and from being
so long contemplated together, the rejection of one seems impossible
without doing violence to the other. Yet how much evidence might not
an impartial observer find in examining the theological discussions
which have prevailed, the speculative systems which have been formed
and arrayed against each other, for the last seventy years, to
convince him that there must be some discordance in the elements, some
principle of secret but irreconcilable hostility between a philosophy
and a religion, which, under every ingenious variety of form and
shaping, still stand aloof from each other and refuse to cohere. For
is it not a fact, that in regard to every speculative system which has
been formed on these philosophical principles,--to every new shaping
of theory which has been devised and has gained adherents among
us,--is it not a fact, I ask, that, to all, except those adherents,
the _system_--the philosophical _theory_--has seemed dangerous in its
tendency, and at war with orthodox views of religion--perhaps even
with the attributes of God? Nay, to bring the matter still nearer and
more plainly to view, I ask, whether at this moment the organs and
particular friends of our leading theological seminaries in New
England, both devotedly attached to an orthodox and spiritual system
of religion, and expressing mutual confidence as to the _essentials_
of their mutual faith, do not each consider the other as holding a
philosophical _theory_ subversive of orthodoxy? If I am not
misinformed, this is the simple fact.
Now, if these things be so, I would ask again with all earnestness,
and out of regard to the interests of truth alone, whether serious and
reflecting men may not be permitted, without the charge of heresy in
RELIGION, to stand in doubt of this PHILOSOPHY _altogether_; whether
these facts which will not be disputed, do not furnish just grounds
for suspicion, that the principles of our philosophy may be erroneous,
or at least induce us to look with candour and impartiality at the
claims of another and a different system?
What are the claims of the system, to which the attention of the
public is invited in this Work, can be understood fully, only by a
careful and reflecting examination of its principles in connection
with the conscious wants of our own inward being--the requirements of
our own reason and consciences. Its purpose and tendency, I have
endeavoured in some measure to exhibit; and if the influence of
authority, which the prevailing system furnishes against it, can and
must be counteracted by anything of a like kind--(and whatever
professions we may make, the influence of authority produces at least
a predisposing effect upon our minds)--the remarks which I have made,
will show, that the principles here taught are not wholly
unauthorized by men, whom we have been taught to reverence among the
great and good. I cannot but add, as a matter of simple justice to the
question, that however our prevailing system of philosophizing may
have appealed to the authority of Lord Bacon, it needs but a candid
examination of his writings, especially the first part of his _Novum
Organum_, to be convinced that such an appeal is without grounds; and
that in fact the fundamental principles of his philosophy are the same
with those taught in this work. The great distinction especially,
between the understanding and the reason, is clearly and fully
recognized; and as a philosopher he would be far more properly
associated with Plato, or even Aristotle, than with the modern
philosophers, who have miscalled their systems by his name. In our own
times, moreover, there is abundant evidence, whatever may be thought
of the principles of this Work here, that the same general views of
philosophy are regaining their ascendancy elsewhere. In Great Britain
there are not few, who begin to believe that the deep-toned and
sublime eloquence of Coleridge on these great subjects may have
something to claim their attention besides a few peculiarities of
language. In Paris, the doctrines of a rational and spiritual system
of philosophy are taught to listening and admiring thousands by one of
the most learned and eloquent philosophers of the age; and in Germany,
if I mistake not, the same general views are adopted by the serious
friends of religious truth among her great and learned men.
Such--as I have no doubt--must be the case, wherever thinking men can
be brought distinctly and impartially to examine their claims; and
indeed to those who shall study and comprehend the general history of
philosophy, it must always be matter of special wonder, that in a
Christian community, anxiously striving to explain and defend the
doctrines of Christianity in their spiritual sense, there should have
been a long-continued and tenacious adherence to philosophical
principles, so subversive of their faith in everything distinctively
spiritual; while those of an opposite tendency, and claiming a near
relationship and correspondence with the truly spiritual in the
Christian system, and the mysteries of its sublime faith, were looked
upon with suspicion and jealousy, as unintelligible or dangerous
metaphysics.
And here I must be allowed to add a few remarks with regard to the
popular objections against the system of philosophy, the claims of
which I am urging, especially against the writings of the Author,
under whose name it appears in the present Work. These are various and
often contradictory, but usually have reference either to his
peculiarities of language, or to the depth--whether apparent or
real,--and the unintelligibleness, of his thoughts.
To the first of these it seems to me a sufficient answer, for a mind
that would deal honestly and frankly by itself, to suggest that in the
very nature of things it is impossible for a writer to express by a
single word any truth, or to mark any distinction, not recognized in
the language of his day, unless he adopts a word entirely new, or
gives to one already in use a new and more peculiar sense. Now in
communicating truths, which the writer deems of great and fundamental
importance, shall he thus appropriate a single word old or new, or
trust to the vagueness of perpetual circumlocution? Admitting for
example, the existence of the important distinction, for which this
writer contends, between the understanding and reason, and that this
distinction when recognized at all, is confounded in the common use of
language by employing the words indiscriminately, shall he still use
these words indiscriminately, and either invent a new word, or mark
the distinction by descriptive circumlocutions, or shall he assign a
more distinctive and precise meaning to the words already used? It
seems to me obviously more in accordance with the laws and genius of
language to take the course which he has adopted. But in this case and
in many others, where his language seems peculiar, it cannot be denied
that the words had already been employed in the same sense, and the
same distinctions recognized, by the older and many of the most
distinguished writers in the language.
With regard to the more important objection, that the _thoughts_ of
Coleridge are _unintelligible_, if it be intended to imply, that his
language is not in itself expressive of an intelligible meaning, or
that he affects the appearance of depth and mystery, while his
thoughts are common-place, it is an objection, which no one who has
read his Works attentively, and acquired a feeling of interest for
them, will treat their Author with so much disrespect as to answer at
all. Every such reader _knows_ that he uses words uniformly with
astonishing precision, and that language becomes, in his use of it--in
a degree, of which few writers can give us a conception--a living
power, "consubstantial" with the power of thought, that gave birth to
it, and awakening and calling into action a corresponding energy in
our own minds. There is little encouragement, moreover, to answer the
objections of any man, who will permit himself to be incurably
prejudiced against an Author by a few peculiarities of language, or an
apparent difficulty of being understood, and without inquiring into
the cause of that difficulty, where at the same time he cannot but see
and acknowledge the presence of great intellectual and moral power.
But if it be intended by the objection to say simply, that the
thoughts of the Author are often difficult to be apprehended--that he
makes large demands not only upon the attention, but upon the
reflecting and thinking powers, of his readers, the fact is not, and
need not be, denied; and it will only remain to be decided, whether
the instruction offered, as the reward, will repay us for the
expenditure of thought required, or can be obtained for less. I know
it is customary in this country, as well as in Great Britain--and that
too among men from whom different language might be expected--to
affect either contempt or modesty, in regard to all that is more than
common-place in philosophy, and especially "Coleridge's Metaphysics,"
as "too deep for them." Now it may not be every man's duty, or in
every man's power, to devote to such studies the time and thought
necessary to understand the deep things of philosophy. But for one who
professes to be a scholar, and to cherish a manly love of truth for
the truth's sake, to object to a system of metaphysics because it is
"too _deep_ for him," must be either a disingenuous insinuation, that
its depths are not worth exploring--which is more than the objector
knows--or a confession, that--with all his professed love of truth and
knowledge--he prefers to "sleep after dinner." The misfortune is, that
men have been cheated into a belief, that all philosophy and
metaphysics worth knowing are contained in a few volumes, which can be
understood with little expense of thought; and that they may very well
spare themselves the vexation of trying to comprehend the depths of
"Coleridge's Metaphysics." According to the popular notions of the
day, it is a very easy matter to understand the philosophy of mind. A
new work on philosophy is as easy to read as the last new novel; and
superficial, would-be scholars, who have a very sensible horror at the
thought of studying Algebra, or the doctrine of fluxions, can yet go
through a course of moral sciences, and know all about the philosophy
of the mind.
Now why will not men of sense, and men who have any just pretensions
to scholarship, see that there must of necessity be gross sophistry
somewhere in any system of metaphysics, which pretends to give us an
adequate and scientific self-knowledge--to render comprehensible to
us the mysterious laws of our own inward being, with less manly and
persevering effort of thought on our part, than is confessedly
required to comprehend the simplest of those sciences, all of which
are but some of the _phænomena_ from which the laws in question are
to be inferred?--Why will they not see and acknowledge--what one would
suppose a moment's reflection would teach them--that to attain true
self-knowledge by reflection upon the objects of our inward
consciousness--not merely to understand the motives of our conduct as
conscientious Christians, but to know ourselves scientifically as
philosophers--must, of necessity, be the most deep and difficult of
all our attainments in knowledge? I trust that what I have already
said will be sufficient to expose the absurdity of objections against
metaphysics in general, and do something towards showing, that we are
in actual and urgent need of a system somewhat deeper than those, the
contradictions of which have not without reason made the name of
philosophy a terror to the friends of truth and of religion. "False
metaphysics can be effectually counteracted by true metaphysics alone;
and if the reasoning be clear, solid, and pertinent, the truth deduced
can never be the less valuable on account of the depth from which it
may have been drawn." It is a fact, too, of great importance to be
kept in mind, in relation to this subject, that in the study of
ourselves--in attaining a knowledge of our own being,--there are
truths of vast concernment, and lying at a great depth, which yet no
man can draw for another. However the depth may have been fathomed,
and the same truth brought up by others, for a light and a joy to
their own minds, it must still remain, and be sought for by us, each
for himself, at the bottom of the well.
The system of philosophy here taught does not profess to make men
philosophers, or--which ought to mean the same thing--to guide them
to the knowledge of themselves, without the labour both of attention
and of severe thinking. If it did so, it would have, like the more
popular works of philosophy, far less affinity than it now has, with
the mysteries of religion, and those profound truths concerning our
spiritual being and destiny, which are revealed in the _things hard to
be understood_ of St. Paul and of the _beloved disciple_. For I cannot
but remind my readers again, that the Author does not undertake to
teach us the philosophy of the human mind, with the exclusion of the
truths and influences of religion. He would not undertake to
philosophize respecting the being and character of man, and at the
same time exclude from his view the very principle which constitutes
his proper humanity: he would not, in teaching the doctrine of the
solar system, omit to mention the sun, and the law of gravitation. He
professes to investigate and unfold the being of man _as man_, in his
higher, his peculiar, and distinguishing attributes. These it is,
which are hard to be understood, and to apprehend which requires the
exercise of deep reflection and exhausting thought. Nor in aiming at
this object would he consider it very philosophical to reject the aid
and instruction of eminent writers on the subject of religion, or even
of the volume of Revelation itself. He would consider St. Augustine as
none the less a philosopher, because he became a Christian. The
Apostles John and Paul were, in the view of this system of philosophy,
the most rational of all writers, and the New Testament the most
philosophical of all books. They are so because they unfold more
fully, than any other, the true and essential principles of our being;
because they give us a clearer and deeper insight into those
constituent laws of our humanity, which as men, and therefore as
philosophers, we are most concerned to know. Not only to those, who
seek the practical self-knowledge of the humble, spiritually-minded
Christian, but to those also, who are impelled by the "heaven
descended γνωθι σεαυτον" to study themselves as philosophers, and
to make self-knowledge a science, the truths of Scripture are a light
and a revelation. The more earnestly we reflect upon these and refer
them, whether as Christians or as philosophers, to the movements of
our inward being--to the laws which reveal themselves in our own
consciousness, the more fully shall we understand, not only the
language of Scripture, but all that most demands and excites the
curiosity of the genuine philosopher in the mysterious character of
man. It is by this guiding light, that we can best search into and
apprehend the constitution of that "marvellous microcosm," which, the
more it has been known, has awakened more deeply the wonder and
admiration of the true philosopher in every age.
Nor would the Author of this Work, or those who have imbibed the
spirit of his system, join with the philosophers of the day in
throwing aside and treating with a contempt, as ignorant as it is
arrogant, the treasures of ancient wisdom. _He_, says the son of
Sirach, _that giveth his mind to the law of the Most High, and is
occupied in the meditation thereof, will seek out the wisdom of all
the ancient_. In the estimation of the true philosopher, the case
should not be greatly altered in the present day; and now that two
thousand years have added such rich and manifold abundance to those
ancient "sayings of the wise," he will still approach them with
reverence, and receive their instruction with gladness of heart. In
seeking to explore and unfold these deeper and more solemn mysteries
of our being, which inspire us with awe, while they baffle our
comprehension, he will especially beware of trusting to his own
understanding, or of contradicting, in compliance with the
self-flattering inventions of a single age, the universal faith and
consciousness of the human race. On such subjects, though he would
call no man master, yet neither would he willingly forego the aids to
be derived, in the search after truth, from those great oracles of
human wisdom--those giants in intellectual power who from generation
to generation were admired and venerated by the great and good. Much
less could he think it becoming, or consistent with his duty to hazard
the publication of his own thoughts on subjects of the deepest
concernment, and on which minds of greatest depth and power had been
occupied in former ages, while confessedly ignorant alike of their
doctrines and of the arguments by which they are sustained.
It is in this spirit, that the Author of the work here offered to the
public has prepared himself to deserve the candid and even confiding
attention of his readers, with reference to the great subject of which
he treats.
And although the claims of the Work upon our attention, as of every
other work, must depend more upon its inherent and essential
character, than upon the worth and authority of its Author, it may yet
be of service to the reader to know, that he is no hasty or
unfurnished adventurer in the department of authorship to which the
Work belongs. The discriminating reader of this Work cannot fail to
discover his profound knowledge of the philosophy of language, the
principles of its construction, and the laws of its interpretation. In
others of his works, perhaps more fully than in this, there is
evidence of an unrivalled mastery over all that pertains both to logic
and philology. It has been already intimated, that he is no contemner
of the great writers of antiquity and of their wise sentences; and
probably few English scholars, even in those days when there were
giants of learning in Great Britain, had minds more richly furnished
with the treasures of ancient lore. But especially will the reader of
this Work observe with admiration the profoundness of his
philosophical attainments, and his thorough and intimate knowledge,
not only of the works and systems of Plato and Aristotle, and of the
celebrated philosophers of modern times, but of those too much
neglected writings of the Greek and Roman Fathers, and of the great
leaders of the Reformation, which more particularly qualified him for
discussing the subjects of the present Work. If these qualifications,
and--with all these, and above all--a disposition professed and made
evident seriously to value them, chiefly as they enable him more fully
and clearly to apprehend and illustrate the truths of the Christian
system,--if these, I say, can give an Author a claim to serious and
thoughtful attention, then may the Work here offered urge its claim
upon the reader. My own regard for the cause of truth, for the
interests of philosophy, of reason, and of religion, lead me to hope
that they may not be urged in vain.
Of his general claims to our regard, whether from exalted personal and
moral worth, or from the magnificence of his intellectual powers, and
the vast extent and variety of his accumulated stores of knowledge, I
shall not venture to speak. If it be true indeed that a really great
mind can be worthily commended only by those who adequately both
appreciate and _comprehend_ its greatness, there are few who should
undertake to estimate, and set forth in appropriate terms, the
intellectual power and moral worth of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Neither
he, nor the public, would be benefited by such commendations as I
could bestow. The few among us who have read his works with the
attention which they deserve, are at no loss what rank to assign him
among the writers of the present age; to those who have not, any
language which I might use would appear hyperbolical and extravagant.
The character and influence of his principles as a philosopher, a
moralist, and a Christian, and of the writings by which he is
enforcing them, do not ultimately depend upon the estimation in which
they may now be held; and to posterity he may safely entrust those
"productive ideas" and "living words"--those
---- truths that wake,
To perish never,
the possession of which will be for their benefit, and connected with
which, in the language of the Son of Sirach,--_His own memorial shall
not depart away, and his name shall live from generation to
generation_.
J. M.[13]
[7] President of the University of Vermont, United States, where his
Essay was first published with Dr. Marsh's edition of the 'Aids,'
1829. See Mr. H. N. Coleridge's Advertisement to the Fourth Edition,
_ante_, p. xii.--ED.
[8] See pp. 172, 208, 223, &c.--ED.
[9] Coleridge's 'Biographia Literaria,' p. 301, Bohn's edition.--ED.
[10] Introductory Aphorisms, XVI., p. 8.--ED.
[11] Also in Appendix B of the 'Statesman's Manual, Bohn's edition p,
337.--ED.
[12] The 'Quarterly Christian Spectator,' of New Haven, U.S. The
letter referred to is signed "Pacificus," and appeared in answer to a
review of "Taylor and Harvey" (American divines), "On Human
Depravity," which had appeared in the previous number of the
Q.C.S.--ED.
[13] Dr. Marsh's signature to the "Advertisement" published with the
above essay in its revised American edition was dated "Burlington,
Dec. 26, 1839."--ED.
AIDS TO REFLECTION.
INTRODUCTORY APHORISMS.
APHORISM I.
In philosophy equally as in poetry, it is the highest and most useful
prerogative of genius to produce the strongest impressions of novelty,
while it rescues admitted truths from the neglect caused by the very
circumstance of their universal admission. Extremes meet. Truths, of
all others the most awful and interesting, are too often considered as
so true, that they lose all the power of truth, and lie bed-ridden in
the dormitory of the soul, side by side with the most despised and
exploded errors.
APHORISM II.
There is one sure way of giving freshness and importance to the most
_common-place_ maxims--that of _reflecting_ on them in direct
reference to our own state and conduct, to our own past and future
being.
APHORISM III.
To restore a common-place truth to its first _uncommon_ lustre, you
need only _translate_ it into action. But to do this, you must have
_reflected_ on its truth.
APHORISM IV.
LEIGHTON AND COLERIDGE.
It is the advice of the wise man, 'Dwell at home,' or, with yourself;
and though there are very few that do this, yet it is surprising that
the greatest part of mankind cannot be prevailed upon, at least to
visit themselves sometimes; but, according to the saying of the wise
Solomon, _The eyes of the fool are in the ends of the earth_.
A reflecting mind, says an ancient writer, is the spring and
source of every good thing. ('_Omnis boni principium intellectus
cogitabundus._') It is at once the disgrace and the misery of men,
that they live without fore-thought. Suppose yourself fronting a
mirror. Now what the objects behind you are to their images at the
same apparent distance before you, such is Reflection to Fore-thought.
As a man without Fore-thought scarcely deserves the name of a man, so
Fore-thought without Reflection is but a metaphorical phrase for the
_instinct_ of a beast.
APHORISM V.
As a fruit-tree is more valuable than any one of its fruits singly, or
even than all its fruits of a single season, so the noblest object of
reflection is the mind itself, by which we reflect:
And as the blossoms, the green, and the ripe, fruit, of an orange-tree
are more beautiful to behold when on the tree and seen as one with it,
than the same growth detached and seen successively, after their
importation into another country and different clime; so is it with
the manifold objects of reflection, when they are considered
principally in reference to the reflective power, and as part and
parcel of the same. No object, of whatever value our passions may
represent it, but becomes _foreign_ to us, as soon as it is altogether
unconnected with our intellectual, moral, and spiritual life. To be
_ours_, it must be referred to the mind either as motive, or
consequence, or symptom.
APHORISM VI.
LEIGHTON.
He who teaches men the principles and precepts of spiritual wisdom,
before their minds are called off from foreign objects, and turned
inward upon themselves, might as well write his instructions, as the
Sibyl wrote her prophecies, on the loose leaves of trees, and commit
them to the mercy of the inconstant winds.
APHORISM VII.
In order to learn we must _attend_: in order to profit by what we have
learnt, we must _think_--_i.e._ reflect. He only thinks who
_reflects_.[14]
[14] The indisposition, nay, the angry aversion to _think_, even in
persons who are most willing to _attend_, and on the subjects to which
they are giving studious _attention_--as Political Economy, Biblical
Theology, Classical Antiquities, and the like,--is the phenomenon that
forces itself on my notice afresh, every time I enter into the society
of persons in the higher ranks. To assign a _feeling_ and a
determination of _will_, as a satisfactory reason for embracing or
rejecting this or that opinion or belief, is of ordinary occurrence,
and sure to obtain the sympathy and the suffrages of the company. And
yet to me, this seems little less irrational than to apply the nose to
a picture, and to decide on its genuineness by the sense of smell.
APHORISM VIII.
LEIGHTON AND COLERIDGE.
It is a matter of great difficulty, and requires no ordinary skill and
address, to fix the attention of men on the world within them, to
induce them to study the processes and superintend the works which
they are themselves carrying on in their own minds; in short, to
awaken in them both the faculty of thought[15] and the inclination to
exercise it. For alas! the largest part of mankind are nowhere greater
strangers than at home.
[15] _Distinction between Thought and Attention._--By THOUGHT is here
meant the voluntary reproduction in our own minds of those states of
consciousness, or (to use a phrase more familiar to the religious
reader) of those inward experiences, to which, as to his best and most
authentic documents, the teacher of moral or religious truth refers
us. In ATTENTION, we keep the mind _passive_: in THOUGHT we rouse it
into activity. In the former, we submit to an impression--we keep the
mind steady in order to _receive_ the stamp. In the latter, we seek to
_imitate_ the artist, while we ourselves make a copy or duplicate of
his work. We may learn arithmetic, or the elements of geometry, by
continued attention alone; but _self_-knowledge, or an insight into
the laws and constitutions of the human mind, and the _grounds_ of
religion and true morality, in addition to the effort of attention
requires the energy of THOUGHT.
APHORISM IX.
Life is the one universal soul, which, by virtue of the enlivening
BREATH, and the informing WORD, all organized bodies have in common,
each _after its kind_. This, therefore, all animals possess, and man
as an animal. But, in addition to this, God transfused into man a
higher gift, and specially imbreathed:--even a living (that is,
self-subsisting) soul, a soul having its life in itself. "And man
became a living soul." He did not merely _possess_ it, he _became_ it.
It was his proper _being_, his truest _self_, _the_ man _in_ the man.
None then, not one of human kind, so poor and destitute, but there is
provided for him, even in his present state, _a house not built with
hands_. Aye, and spite of the philosophy (falsely so called) which
mistakes the causes, the conditions, and the occasions of our becoming
_conscious_ of certain truths and realities for the truths and
realities themselves--a house gloriously furnished. Nothing is wanted
but the eye, which is the light of this house, the light which is the
eye of this soul. This _seeing_ light, this _enlightening_ eye, is
Reflection.[16] It is more, indeed, than is ordinarily meant by that
word; but it is what a Christian ought to mean by it, and to know too,
whence it first came, and still continues to come--of what light even
this light is _but_ a reflection. This, too, is THOUGHT; and all
thought is but unthinking that does not flow out of this, or tend
towards it.
[16] The "_dianoia_" of 1 John v. 20, inaccurately rendered
"understanding" in our translation. To exhibit the full force of the
Greek word, we must say, _a power of discernment by Reason_.
APHORISM X.
Self-superintendence! that anything should overlook itself! Is not
this a paradox, and hard to understand? It is, indeed, difficult, and
to the imbruted sensualist a direct contradiction: and yet most truly
does the poet exclaim,
---- Unless _above_ himself he can
Erect himself, how mean a thing is man!
APHORISM XI.
An hour of solitude passed in sincere and earnest prayer, or the
conflict with, and conquest over, a single passion or "subtle bosom
sin," will teach us more of thought, will more effectually awaken the
_faculty_, and form the _habit_, of reflection, than a year's study in
the schools without them.
APHORISM XII.
In a world, the opinions of which are drawn from outside shows, many
things may be _paradoxical_, (that is, contrary to the common notion)
and nevertheless true: nay, _because_ they are true. How should it be
otherwise, as long as the imagination of the Worldling is wholly
occupied by surfaces, while the Christian's thoughts are fixed on the
substance, that which _is_ and abides, and which, _because_ it is the
substance,[17] the outward senses cannot recognize. Tertullian had
good reason for his assertion, that the simplest Christian (if indeed
a Christian) knows more than the most accomplished irreligious
philosopher.
COMMENT.
Let it not, however, be forgotten, that the powers of the
understanding and the intellectual graces are precious gifts of God;
and that every Christian, according to the opportunities vouchsafed to
him, is bound to cultivate the one and to acquire the other. Indeed,
he is scarcely a Christian who wilfully neglects so to do. What says
the apostle? Add to your faith _knowledge_, and to knowledge _manly
energy_: for this is the proper rendering of αρετην, and not
_virtue_, at least in the present and ordinary acceptation of the
word.[18]
[17] _Quod stat subtus_, that which stands _beneath_, and (as it were)
supports, the appearance. In a language like ours, where so many words
are derived from other languages, there are few modes of instruction
more useful or more amusing than that of accustoming young people to
seek for the etymology, or primary meaning, of the words they use.
There are cases, in which more knowledge of more value may be conveyed
by the history of a _word_, than by the history of a campaign.
[18] I am not ashamed to confess that I dislike the frequent use of
the word virtue, instead of righteousness, in the pulpit: and that in
prayer or preaching before a Christian community, it sounds too much
like _Pagan_ philosophy. The passage in St. Peter's epistle is the
only scripture authority that can be pretended for its use, and I
think it right, therefore, to notice that it rests either on an
oversight of the translators, or on a change in the meaning of the
word since their time.
APHORISM XIII.
Never yet did there exist a full faith in the Divine Word (by whom
_light_, as well as immortality, was brought into the world), which
did not expand the intellect, while it purified the heart;--which did
not multiply the aims and objects of the understanding, while it fixed
and simplified those of the desires and passions.[19]
COMMENT.
If acquiescence without insight; if warmth without light; if an
immunity from doubt, given and guaranteed by a resolute ignorance; if
the habit of _taking for granted_ the words of a catechism, remembered
or forgotten; if a mere _sensation_ of positiveness substituted--I
will not say, for the _sense_ of _certainty_; but--for that calm
assurance, the very means and conditions of which it supersedes; if a
belief that seeks the darkness, and yet strikes no root, immovable as
the limpet from the rock, and like the limpet, fixed there by mere
force of adhesion; if these suffice to make men Christians, in what
sense could the apostle affirm that believers receive, not indeed
worldly wisdom, that comes to nought, but the wisdom of God, that we
might _know and comprehend_ the things that are freely given to us of
God? On what grounds could he denounce the sincerest _fervour_ of
spirit as _defective_, where it does not likewise bring forth fruits
in the UNDERSTANDING?
[19] The effects of a zealous ministry on the intellects and
acquirements of the labouring classes are not only attested by Baxter,
and the Presbyterian divines, but admitted by Bishop Burnet, who,
during his mission in the west of Scotland, was "amazed to find a poor
commonalty so able to argue," &c. But we need not go to a sister
church for proof or example. The diffusion of light and knowledge
through this kingdom, by the exertions of the Bishops and clergy, by
Episcopalians and Puritans, from Edward VI. to the Restoration, was as
wonderful as it is praiseworthy, and may be justly placed among the
most remarkable facts of history.
APHORISM XIV.
In our present state, it is little less than impossible that the
affections should be kept constant to an object which gives no
employment to the understanding, and yet cannot be made manifest to
the senses. The exercise of the reasoning and reflecting powers,
increasing insight, and enlarging views, are requisite to keep alive
the substantial faith in the heart.
APHORISM XV.
In the state of perfection, perhaps, all other faculties may be
swallowed up in love, or superseded by immediate vision; but it is on
the wings of the CHERUBIM, that is, (according to the interpretation
of the ancient Hebrew doctors) the _intellectual_ powers and energies,
that we must first be borne up to the "pure empyrean." It must be
seraphs, and not the hearts of imperfect mortals, that can burn
unfuelled and self-fed. _Give me understanding_ (is the prayer of the
Royal Psalmist), _and I shall observe thy law with my whole
heart_.[20]--_Thy law is exceeding broad_--that is, comprehensive,
pregnant, containing far more than the apparent import of the words on
a first perusal. _It is my meditation all the day._[21]
COMMENT.
It is worthy of especial observation, that the Scriptures are
distinguished from all other writings pretending to inspiration, by
the strong and frequent recommendations of knowledge, and a spirit of
inquiry. Without reflection, it is evident that neither the one can be
acquired nor the other exercised.
[20] Ps. cxix. 34.--ED.
[21] Ps. cxix. 97.--ED.
APHORISM XVI.
The word _rational_ has been strangely abused of late times. This must
not, however, disincline us to the weighty consideration, that
thoughtfulness, and a desire to rest all our convictions on grounds of
right reasoning, are inseparable from the character of a Christian.
APHORISM XVII.
A reflecting mind is not a flower that grows wild, or comes up of its
own accord. The difficulty is indeed greater than many, who mistake
quick recollection for thought, are disposed to admit; but how much
less than it would be, had we not been born and bred in a Christian
and Protestant land, few of us are sufficiently aware. Truly may we,
and thankfully ought we to, exclaim with the Psalmist: _The entrance
of thy words giveth light; it giveth understanding unto the
simple_.[22]
[22] Ps. cxix. 130.--ED.
APHORISM XVIII.
Examine the journals of our zealous missionaries, I will not say among
the Hottentots or Esquimaux, but in the highly _civilized_, though
fearfully _uncultivated_, inhabitants of ancient India. How often, and
how feelingly, do they describe the difficulty of rendering the
simplest chain of thought intelligible to the ordinary natives, the
rapid exhaustion of their whole power of attention, and with what
distressful effort it is exerted while it lasts! Yet it is among these
that the hideous practices of self-torture chiefly prevail. O, if
folly were no _easier_ than wisdom, it being often so very much more
_grievous_, how certainly might these unhappy slaves of superstition
be converted to Christianity! But, alas! to swing by hooks passed
through the back, or to walk in shoes with nails of iron pointed
upwards through the soles--all this is so much less _difficult_,
demands so much less exertion of the will than to _reflect_, and by
reflection to gain knowledge and tranquillity!
COMMENT.
It is not true, that ignorant persons have no notion of the
_advantages_ of truth and knowledge. They confess, they see and bear
witness to these advantages in the conduct, the immunities, and the
superior powers of the possessors. Were they attainable by pilgrimages
the most toilsome, or penances the most painful, we should assuredly
have as many pilgrims and self-tormentors in the service of true
religion, as now exist under the tyranny of Papal or Brahman
superstition.
APHORISM XIX.
In countries enlightened by the gospel, however, the most formidable
and (it is to be feared) the most frequent impediment to men's turning
the mind inward upon themselves, is that they are afraid of what they
shall find there. There is an aching hollowness in the bosom, a dark
cold speck at the heart, an obscure and boding sense of somewhat, that
must be kept _out of sight_ of the conscience; some secret lodger,
whom they can neither resolve to eject or retain.[23]
COMMENT.
Few are so obdurate, few have sufficient strength of character, to be
able to draw forth an evil tendency or immoral practice into distinct
_consciousness_, without bringing it in the same moment before an
awaking _conscience_. But for this very reason it becomes a duty of
conscience to form the mind to a habit of distinct consciousness. An
unreflecting Christian walks in twilight among snares and pitfalls! He
entreats the heavenly Father not to lead him into temptation, and yet
places himself on the very edge of it, because he will not kindle the
torch which his Father had given into his hands, as a means of
prevention, and lest he should pray too late.
[23] The following sonnet was extracted by me from Herbert's 'Temple,'
in a work long since out of print, for the purity of the language and
the fulness of the sense. But I shall be excused, I trust, in
repeating it here for higher merits and with higher purposes, as a
forcible comment on the words in the text.
_Graces vouchsafed in a Christian land._
Lord! with what care hast thou begirt us round!
Parents first season us. Then schoolmasters
Deliver us to laws. They send us bound
To rules of reason. Holy messengers;
Pulpits and Sundays; sorrow dogging sin;
Afflictions _sorted_; anguish of all sizes;
Fine nets and stratagems to catch us in!
Bibles laid open; millions of surprizes;
Blessings beforehand; ties of gratefulness;
The sound of glory ringing in our ears:
Without, our shame; within, our consciences;
Angels and grace; eternal hopes and fears!
Yet all these fences, and their whole array,
One cunning BOSOM-SIN blows quite away.
APHORISM XX.
Among the various undertakings of men, can there be mentioned one more
important, can there be conceived one more sublime, than an intention
to form the human mind anew after the DIVINE IMAGE? The very
intention, if it be sincere, is a ray of its dawning.
The requisites for the execution of this high intent may be comprised
under three heads; the prudential, the moral, and the spiritual.
APHORISM XXI.
First, RELIGIOUS PRUDENCE.--What this is, will be best explained by
its effects and operations. PRUDENCE in the service of RELIGION
consists in the prevention or abatement of hindrances and
distractions; and consequently in avoiding, or removing, all such
circumstances as, by diverting the attention of the workman, retard
the progress and hazard the safety of the work. It is likewise (I deny
not) a part of this unworldly prudence, to place ourselves as much and
as often as it is in our power so to do, in circumstances directly
favourable to our great design; and to avail ourselves of all the
_positive_ helps and furtherances which these circumstances afford.
But neither dare we, as Christians, forget whose and under what
dominion the things are, _quæ nos circumstant_, that is, which _stand
around_ us. We are to remember, that it is the _world_ that
constitutes our outward circumstances; that in the form of the world,
which is evermore at variance with the Divine form (or idea) they are
cast and moulded; and that of the means and measures which the same
prudence requires in the forming anew of the Divine Image in the soul,
the far greater number suppose the world at enmity with our design. We
are to avoid its snares, to repel its attacks, to suspect its aids and
succours, and even when compelled to receive them as allies within our
trenches, we are to commit the outworks alone to their charge, and to
keep them at a jealous distance from the citadel. The powers of the
world are often _christened_, but seldom christianized. They are but
_proselytes of the outer gate_; or like the Saxons of old, enter the
land as auxiliaries, and remain in it as conquerors and lords.
APHORISM XXII.
The rules of prudence in general, like the laws of the stone tables,
are for the most part prohibitive. _Thou shalt not_ is their
characteristic formula: and it is an especial part of Christian
prudence that it should be so. Nor would it be difficult to bring
under this head, all the social obligations that arise out of the
relations of the present life, which the sensual understanding (το
φρονημα της Σαρκος, Romans viii. 6.) is of itself able to discover,
and the performance of which, under favourable circumstances, the
merest worldly self-interest, without love or faith, is sufficient to
enforce; but which Christian Prudence enlivens by a higher principle,
and renders symbolic and sacramental. (Ephesians v. 32.)
COMMENT.
This then, under the appellation of prudential requisites, comes first
under consideration: and may be regarded as the shrine and frame-work
for the Divine image, into which the worldly human is to be
transformed. We are next to bring out the Divine Portrait itself, the
distinct features of its countenance, as a sojourner among men; its
benign aspect turned towards its fellow-pilgrims, the extended arm,
and the hand that blesseth and healeth.
APHORISM XXIII.
The outward service (Θρησκεια[24]) of ancient religion, the rites,
ceremonies and ceremonial vestments of the old law, had morality for
their substance. They were the _letter_, of which morality was the
_spirit_; the enigma, of which morality was the _meaning_. But
morality itself is the service and ceremonial (cultus exterior,
θρησκεια) of the Christian religion. The scheme of grace and truth
that _became_[25] through Jesus Christ, the faith that _looks[26]
down into_ the perfect law of liberty, has _light for its garment:
its very robe is righteousness_.
COMMENT.
Herein the apostle places the pre-eminence, the peculiar and
distinguishing excellence, of the Christian religion. The ritual is of
the same kind, (ὁμοουσιον) though not of the same order, with the
religion itself--not arbitrary or conventional, as types and
hieroglyphics are in relation to the things expressed by them; but
inseparable, consubstantiated (as it were), and partaking therefore of
the same life, permanence, and intrinsic worth with its spirit and
principle.
[24] See the epistle of St. James, i. 26, 27, where, in the authorized
version, the Greek word θρησκεια is falsely rendered _religion_;
whether by mistake of the translator, or from the intended sense
having become obsolete, I cannot decide. At all events, for the
English reader of our times it has the effect of an erroneous
translation. It not only obscures the connexion of the passage, and
weakens the peculiar force and sublimity of the thought, rendering it
comparatively flat and trivial, almost indeed tautological, but has
occasioned this particular verse to be perverted into a support of a
very dangerous error; and the whole epistle to be considered as a
_set-off_ against the epistles and declarations of St. Paul, instead
of (what in fact it is) a masterly comment and confirmation of the
same. I need not inform the religious reader, that James i. 27, is the
favourite text and most boasted authority of those divines who
represent the Redeemer of the world as little more than a moral
reformer, and the Christian faith as a code of ethics, differing from
the moral system of Moses and the prophets by an additional motive; or
rather, by the additional strength and clearness which the historical
fact of the resurrection has given to the same motive.
[25] The Greek word εγενετο, unites in itself the two senses of
_began to exist_ and _was made to exist_. It exemplifies the force of
the _middle voice_, in distinction from the verb reflex. In answer to
a note on John i. 2., in the Unitarian version of the New Testament, I
think it worth noticing, that the same word is used in the very same
sense by Aristophanes in that famous parody on the cosmogonies of the
Mythic poets, or the creation of the finite, as delivered, or supposed
to be delivered, in the Cabiric or Samothracian mysteries, in the
Comedy of the Birds.
---- γενετ Ουρανος, Ωκεανος τε
Και Γη.
[26] James i. 25. Ο δε παρακυψας εις νομον τελειον τον της ελευθεριας.
The Greek word, _parakupsas_, signifies the incurvation or bending of
the body in the act of _looking down into_; as, for instance, in the
endeavour to see the reflected image of a star in the water at the
bottom of a well. A more happy or forcible word could not have been
chosen to express the nature and ultimate object of reflection, and to
enforce the necessity of it, in order to discover the living fountain
and spring-head of the evidence of the Christian faith in the believer
himself, and at the same time to point out the seat and region, where
alone it is to be found. _Quantum sumus, scimus._ That which we find
within ourselves, which is more than ourselves, and yet the ground of
whatever is good and permanent therein, is the substance and life of
all other knowledge.
N.B. The Familists of the sixteenth century, and similar enthusiasts
of later date, overlooked the essential point, that it was a _law_,
and a law that involved its own end (τελος), a _perfect_ law (τελειος)
or law that perfects or completes itself; and therefore, its
obligations are called, in reference to human statutes, _imperfect_
duties, i.e. incoercible from without. They overlooked that it was a
law that _portions out_ (Νομος _from_ νεμω _to allot, or make division
of_) to each man the sphere and limits within which it is to be
exercised--which as St. Peter notices of certain profound passages in
the writings of St. Paul, (2 Pet. iii. 16.)--oι αμαθεις και αστηρικτοι
στρεβλουσιν, ὡς και τας λοιπας γραφας, προς την ιδιαν αυτων απωλειαν.
APHORISM XXIV.
Morality is the body, of which the faith in Christ is the soul--so far
indeed its earthly body, as it is adapted to its state of warfare on
earth, and the appointed form and instrument of its communion with the
present world; yet not "terrestrial," nor of the world, but a
celestial body, and capable of being transfigured from glory to glory,
in accordance with the varying circumstances and outward relations of
its moving and informing spirit.
APHORISM XXV.
Woe to the man, who will believe neither power, freedom, nor morality;
because he nowhere finds either entire, or unmixed with sin, thraldom
and infirmity. In the natural and intellectual realms, we distinguish
what we cannot separate; and in the moral world, we must distinguish
_in order to_ separate. Yea, in the clear distinction of good from
evil the process of separation commences.
COMMENT.
It was customary with religious men in former times, to make a rule of
taking every morning some text, or aphorism,[27] for their occasional
meditation during the day, and thus to fill up the intervals of their
attention to business. I do not point it out for imitation, as knowing
too well, how apt these self-imposed rules are to degenerate into
superstition or hollowness; otherwise I would have recommended the
following as the first exercise.
[27] In accordance with a preceding remark, on the use of etymology in
disciplining the youthful mind to thoughtful habits, and as consistent
with the title of this work, 'Aids to Reflection,' I shall offer no
apology for the following and similar notes:
_Aphorism_, determinate position, from the Greek, _ap_, from; and
_horizein_, to bound or limit; whence our horizon.--In order to get
the full sense of a word, we should first present to our minds the
visual image that forms its primary meaning. Draw lines of different
colours round the different counties of England, and then cut out each
separately, as in the common play-maps that children take to pieces
and put together--so that each district can be contemplated apart from
the rest, as a whole in itself. This twofold act of circumscribing,
and detaching, when it is exerted by the mind on subjects of
reflection and reason, is to _aphorize_, and the result an _aphorism_.
APHORISM XXVI.
It is a dull and obtuse mind, that must divide in order to
distinguish; but it is a still worse, that distinguishes in order to
divide. In the former, we may contemplate the source of superstition
and idolatry;[28] in the latter, of schism, heresy,[29] and a
seditious and sectarian spirit.[30]
[28] Το Νοητον διηρηκασιν εις πολλων Θεων Ιδιοτητας.--_Damasc. de
Myst. Egypt_; that is, They _divided_ the intelligible into many and
several individualities.
[29] From αἱρεσις. Though well aware of its formal and apparent
derivation from _haireo_, I am inclined to refer both words to _airo_,
as the primitive term, containing the primary visual image, and
therefore should explain _hæresis_, as a wilful raising into public
notice, an uplifting (for display) of any particular opinion differing
from the established belief of the church at large, and making it a
ground of schism, that is, division.
[30] I mean these words in their large and philosophic sense in
relation to the _spirit_, or originating temper and tendency, and not
to any one mode under which, or to any one class, in or by which it
may be displayed. A seditious spirit may (it is possible, though not
probable) exist in the council-chamber of a palace as strongly as in a
mob in Palace-Yard; and a sectarian spirit in a cathedral, no less
than in a conventicle.
APHORISM XXVII.
Exclusive of the abstract sciences, the largest and worthiest portion
of our knowledge consists of _aphorisms_: and the greatest and best of
men is but an _aphorism_.
APHORISM XXVIII.
On the prudential influence which the fear or foresight of the
_consequences_ of his actions, in respect of his own loss or gain,
may exert on a newly-converted Believer.
PRECAUTIONARY REMARK.--I meddle not with the dispute respecting
_conversion_, whether, and in what sense, necessary in all Christians.
It is sufficient for my purpose, that a very _large_ number of men,
even in Christian countries, _need_ to be converted, and that not a
few, I trust, have been. The tenet becomes fanatical and dangerous,
only when rare and extraordinary exceptions are made to be the general
rule;--when what was vouchsafed to the apostle of the Gentiles by
especial grace, and for an especial purpose, namely, a conversion[31]
begun and completed in the same moment, is demanded or expected of all
men, as a necessary sign and pledge of their election. Late
observations have shown, that under many circumstances the magnetic
needle, even after the disturbing influence has been removed, will
keep wavering, and require many days before it points aright, and
remains steady to the pole. So is it ordinarily with the soul, after
it has begun to free itself from the disturbing forces of the flesh
and the world, and to convert[32] itself towards God.
[31] Whereas Christ's other disciples had a breeding under him, St.
Paul was _born_ an apostle; not carved out, as the rest, by degrees
and in course of time, but a _fusile_ apostle, an apostle poured out
and cast in a mould. As Adam was a perfect man in an instant, so was
St. Paul a perfect Christian. The same spirit was the lightning that
melted, and the mould that received and shaped him.--Donne's
Sermons--_quoted from memory_.
[32] From the Latin, _convertere_--that is, by an act of the WILL _to
turn towards_ the true pole, _at the same time_ (for this is the force
of the prepositive _con_) that the understanding is convinced and made
aware of its existence and direction.
APHORISM XXIX.
Awakened by the cock-crow, (a sermon, a calamity, a sick bed, or a
providential escape) the Christian pilgrim sets out in the morning
twilight, while yet the truth (the νομος τελειος ὁ της ἑλευθεριας)
is below the horizon. Certain necessary _consequences_
of his past life and his present undertaking will be _seen_ by the
refraction of its light: more will be apprehended and conjectured. The
phantasms, that had predominated during the hours of darkness, are
still busy. Though they no longer present themselves as distinct
forms, they yet remain as formative motions in the pilgrim's soul,
unconscious of its own activity and overmastered by its own
workmanship. Things take the signature of thought. The shapes of the
recent dream become a _mould_ for the objects in the distance; and
these again give an outwardness and a sensation of reality to the
shapings of the dream. The bodings inspired by the long habit of
selfishness, and self-seeking cunning, though they are now commencing
the process of their purification into that fear which is the
_beginning_ of wisdom, and which, as such, is ordained to be our guide
and safeguard, till the sun of love, the perfect law of liberty, is
fully arisen--these bodings will set the fancy at work, and haply, for
a time, transform the mists of dim and imperfect knowledge into
determinate superstitions. But in either case, whether seen clearly or
dimly, whether beholden or only imagined, the _consequences_,
contemplated in their bearings on the individual's inherent[33]
desire of happiness and dread of pain, become _motives_: and (unless
all distinction in the words be done away with, and either prudence or
virtue be reduced to a superfluous synonyme, a redundancy in all the
languages of the civilized world), these motives, and the acts and
forbearances directly proceeding from them, fall under the head of
PRUDENCE, as belonging to one or other of its four very distinct
species.
I. It may be a prudence, that stands in opposition to a higher moral
life, and tends to preclude it, and to prevent the soul from ever
arriving at the hatred of sin for its own exceeding sinfulness (Rom.
vii. 13): and this is an EVIL PRUDENCE.
II. Or it may be a _neutral_ prudence, not incompatible with spiritual
growth: and to this we may, with especial propriety, apply the words
of our Lord, "What is not _against_ us is for us." It is therefore an
innocent, and (being such) a proper, and COMMENDABLE PRUDENCE.
III. Or it may lead and be subservient to a higher principle than
itself. The mind and conscience of the individual may be reconciled to
it, in the foreknowledge of the higher principle, and with a yearning
towards it that implies a foretaste of future freedom. The enfeebled
convalescent is reconciled to his crutches, and thankfully makes use
of them, not only because they are necessary for his immediate
support, but likewise, because they are the means and conditions of
EXERCISE; and by exercise, of establishing, _gradatim paulatim_, that
strength, flexibility, and almost spontaneous obedience of the
muscles, which the idea and cheering presentiment of health hold out
to him. He finds their _value_ in their present necessity, and their
_worth_ as they are the instruments of finally superseding it. This is
a faithful, a WISE PRUDENCE, having indeed, its birth-place in the
world, and the _wisdom of this world_ for its father; but naturalized
in a better land, and having the wisdom from above for its sponsor and
spiritual parent. To steal a dropt feather from the spicy nest of the
Phœnix, (the fond humour, I mean, of the mystic divines and
allegorizers of Holy Writ,) it is the _son of Terah from Ur of the
Chaldees_, who gives a tithe of all to the King of Righteousness,
without father, without mother, without descent, (Νομος αυτονομος),
and receives a blessing on the remainder.
IV. Lastly, there is a prudence that co-exists with morality, as
morality co-exists with the spiritual life: a prudence that is the
organ of both, as the understanding is to the reason and the will, or
as the lungs are to the heart and brain. This is A HOLY PRUDENCE, the
steward faithful and discreet, (οικονομος πιστος και φρονιμος, Luke
xii. 42), the "eldest servant" in the family of faith, _born in the
house_, and "made the ruler over his lord's household."
Let not, then, I entreat you, my purpose be misunderstood; as if, in
_distinguishing_ virtue from prudence, I wished to divide the one from
the other. True morality is hostile to that prudence only, which is
preclusive of true morality. The teacher, who _subordinates_ prudence
to virtue, cannot be supposed to _dispense_ with it; and he who
teaches the proper connexion of the one with the other, does not
depreciate the lower in any sense; while by making it a link of the
same chain with the higher, and receiving the same influence, he
raises it.
In general, Morality may be compared to the consonant, Prudence to the
vowel. The former cannot be _uttered_ (reduced to practice) but by
means of the latter.
[33] The following extract from Leighton's 'Theological Lectures,'
sect. II. may serve as a comment on this sentence:
"The human mind, however stunned and weakened by the fall, still
retains some faint idea of the good it has lost; a kind of languid
sense of its misery and indigence, with affections suitable to these
obscure notions. This at least is beyond all doubt and indisputable,
that all men wish well to themselves; nor can the mind divest itself
of this propensity, without divesting itself of its being. This is
what the schoolmen mean, when in their manner of expression they say,
that 'the will (voluntas, _not_ arbitrium) is carried towards
happiness not simply as _will_, but as _nature_."
I venture to remark that this position, if not more _certainly_ would
be more _evidently_ true, if instead of _beatitudo_, the word
_indolentia_ (that is, freedom from pain, negative happiness) had been
used. But this depends on the exact meaning attached to the term
_self_, of which more in another place. One conclusion, however,
follows inevitably from the preceding position, namely, that this
propensity can never be legitimately made the _principle_ of morality,
even because it is no part or appurtenance of the moral will; and
because the proper object of the moral principle is to limit and
control this propensity, and to determine in what it _may_ be, and in
what it _ought_ to be gratified; while it is the business of
philosophy to instruct the understanding, and the office of religion
to convince the whole man, that otherwise than as a _regulated_, and
of course therefore a _subordinate_, end, this propensity, innate and
inalienable though it be, can never be realized or fulfilled.
APHORISM XXX.
What the duties of MORALITY are, the apostle instructs the believer in
full, comprising them under the two heads of negative and positive;
negative, to keep himself pure from the world; and positive,
beneficence from loving-kindness, that is, love of his fellow-men (his
kind) as himself.
APHORISM XXXI.
Last and highest, come the _spiritual_, comprising all the truths,
acts, and duties that have an especial reference to the Timeless, the
Permanent, the Eternal: to the sincere love of the True, _as_ truth;
of the Good, _as_ good: and of God as both in one. It comprehends the
whole ascent from uprightness (morality, virtue, inward rectitude) to
_godlikeness_, with all the acts, exercises, and disciplines of mind,
will, and affection, that are requisite or conducive to the great
design of our Redemption from the form of the evil one, and of our
second creation or birth in the divine image.[34]
[34] It is worthy of observation, and may furnish a fruitful subject
for future reflection, how nearly this scriptural division coincides
with the Platonic, which, _commencing_ with the prudential, or the
habit of act and purpose proceeding from enlightened self-interest,
[_qui animi imperio, corporis servitio, rerum auxilio, in proprium sui
commodum et sibi providus utitur, hunc esse prudentem statuimus_]
_ascends_ to the moral, that is, to the _purifying_ and _remedial_
virtues; and seeks its _summit_ in the imitation of the Divine nature.
In this last division, answering to that which we have called the
Spiritual, Plato includes all those inward acts and aspirations,
waitings, and watchings, which have a growth in godlikeness for their
immediate purpose, and the union of the human soul with the Supreme
Good as their ultimate object. Nor was it altogether without grounds
that several of the Fathers ventured to believe that Plato had some
dim conception of the necessity of a Divine Mediator, whether through
some indistinct echo of the patriarchal faith, or some rays of light
refracted from the Hebrew prophets through a Phoenician medium, (to
which he may possibly have referred in his phrase, θεοπαραδοτος
σοφια, the wisdom delivered from God), or by his own sense of the
mysterious contradiction in human nature between the will and the
reason, the natural appetences and the not less innate law of
conscience (_Romans_ ii. 14, 15.), we shall in vain attempt to
determine. It is not impossible that all three may have co-operated in
partially unveiling these awful truths to this plank from the wreck of
paradise thrown on the shores of idolatrous Greece, to this Divine
Philosopher,
Che 'n quella schiera andó più presso al segno
Al qual aggiunge, a chi dal cielo è dato.
_Petrarch: Del Trionfo della Fama, Cap. III. 5, 6._
APHORISM XXXII.
It may be an additional aid to reflection, to distinguish the three
kinds severally, according to the faculty to which each corresponds,
the part of our human nature which is more particularly its organ.
Thus: the prudential corresponds to the sense and the understanding;
the moral to the heart and the conscience; the spiritual to the will
and the reason, that is, to the finite will reduced to harmony with,
and in subordination to, the reason, as a ray from that true light
which is both reason and will, universal reason, and will absolute.
REFLECTIONS,
INTRODUCTORY TO
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS APHORISMS.
ON SENSIBILITY.
If Prudence, though practically inseparable from Morality, is not to
be confounded with the Moral Principle; still less may Sensibility,
that is, a constitutional quickness of Sympathy with Pain and
Pleasure, and a keen sense of the gratifications that accompany social
intercourse, mutual endearments, and reciprocal preferences, be
mistaken, or deemed a Substitute for either. Sensibility is not even a
sure pledge of a GOOD HEART, though among the most common meanings of
that many-meaning and too commonly misapplied expression.
So far from being either Morality, or one with the Moral Principle, it
ought not even to be placed in the same rank with Prudence. For
Prudence is at least an offspring of the Understanding; but
Sensibility (the Sensibility, I mean, here spoken of), is for the
greater part a quality of the nerves, and a result of individual
bodily temperament.
Prudence is an _active_ Principle, and implies a sacrifice of Self,
though only to the same Self _projected_, as it were, to a distance.
But the very term Sensibility, marks its _passive_ nature; and in its
mere self, apart from Choice and Reflection, it proves little more
than the coincidence or contagion of pleasurable or painful
Sensations in different persons.
Alas! how many are there in this over-stimulated age, in which the
occurrence of excessive and unhealthy sensitiveness is so frequent, as
even to have reversed the current meaning of the word, _nervous_. How
many are[35] there whose sensibility prompts them to remove those
evils alone, which by hideous spectacle or clamorous outcry are
present to their senses and disturb their selfish enjoyments. Provided
the dunghill is not before their parlour window, they are contented to
know that it exists, and perhaps as the hotbed on which their own
luxuries are reared. Sensibility is not necessarily Benevolence. Nay,
by rendering us tremblingly alive to trifling misfortunes, it
frequently prevents it, and induces an effeminate Selfishness instead,
---- pampering the coward heart,
With feelings all too delicate for use.
Sweet are the Tears, that from a Howard's eye
Drop on the cheek of one, he lifts from earth:
And he, who works me good with unmoved face,
Does it but half. He chills me, while he aids,
My Benefactor, not my Brother Man.
But even this, this _cold_ benevolence,
Seems Worth, seems Manhood, when there rise before me,
The sluggard Pity's vision-weaving tribe,
Who sigh for wretchedness yet shun the wretched,
Nursing in some delicious solitude,
Their slothful Loves and dainty Sympathies.[36]
Lastly, where Virtue is, Sensibility is the ornament and becoming
Attire of Virtue. On certain occasions it may almost be said to
_become_[37] Virtue. But Sensibility and all the amiable qualities
may likewise become, and too often _have_ become, the panders of Vice
and the instruments of Seduction.
So must it needs be with all qualities that have their rise only in
_parts_ and _fragments_ of our nature. A man of warm passions may
sacrifice half his estate to rescue a friend from prison; for he is
naturally sympathetic, and the more social _part_ of his nature
happened to be uppermost. The same man shall afterwards exhibit the
same disregard of money in an attempt to seduce that friend's wife or
daughter.
All the evil achieved by Hobbes, and the whole School of Materialists
will appear inconsiderable, if it be compared with the mischief
effected and occasioned by the sentimental Philosophy of STERNE, and
his numerous imitators. The vilest appetites and the most remorseless
inconstancy towards their objects, acquired the titles of _the Heart,
the irresistible Feelings, the too tender Sensibility;_ and if the
Frosts of Prudence, the icy chains of Human Law thawed and vanished at
the genial warmth of Human _Nature_, who _could help it_? It was an
amiable Weakness!
About this time, too, the profanation of the word Love, rose to its
height. The French Naturalists, Buffon and others, borrowed it from
the sentimental Novelists: the Swedish and English Philosophers took
the contagion; and the Muse of Science condescended to seek admission
into the Saloons of Fashion and Frivolity, _rouged_ like a harlot, and
with the harlot's wanton leer. I know not how the Annals of Guilt
could be better forced into the service of Virtue, than by such a
Comment on the present paragraph, as would be afforded by a selection
from the sentimental correspondence produced in Courts of Justice
within the last thirty years, fairly translated into the true meaning
of the words, and the actual Object and Purpose of the infamous
writers.
Do you in good earnest aim at Dignity of Character? By all the
treasures of a peaceful mind, by all the charms of an open
countenance, I conjure you, O youth! turn away from those who live in
the Twilight between Vice and Virtue. Are not Reason, Discrimination,
Law, and deliberate Choice, the distinguishing Characters of Humanity?
Can aught, then, worthy of a human Being, proceed from a Habit of
Soul, which would exclude all these and (to borrow a metaphor from
Paganism) prefer the den of Trophonius to the Temple and Oracles of
the God of Light? Can any thing _manly_, I say, proceed from those,
who for Law and Light would substitute shapeless feelings, sentiments,
impulses, which as far as they differ from the vital workings in the
brute animals, owe the difference to their former connexion with the
proper Virtues of Humanity; as dendrites derive the outlines, that
constitute their value above other clay-stones, from the casual
neighbourhood and pressure of the plants, the names of which they
assume? Remember, that Love itself in its highest earthly Bearing, as
the ground of the marriage union,[38] becomes Love by an inward FIAT
of the Will, by a completing and sealing Act of Moral Election, and
lays claim to permanence only under the form of DUTY.
[35] This paragraph is abridged from the _Watchman_, No. IV. March 25,
1796; respecting which the inquisitive Reader may consult my 'Literary
Life.'--_Author's note_ in editions 1 (1825) and 1836, since
suppressed.--ED.
[36] Coleridge's 'Reflections On Having Left a Place of Retirement,'
l. 48, &c. ('Sibylline Leaves,' 1797).--ED.
[37] There sometimes occurs an apparent _play_ on words, which not
only to the Moralizer, but even to the philosophical Etymologist,
appears more than a mere Play. Thus in the double sense of the word,
_become_. I have known persons so anxious to have their dress _become_
them, as to convert it at length into their proper self, and thus
actually to _become_ the dress. Such a one, (safeliest spoken of by
the _neuter_ pronoun), I consider as but a suit of _live_ finery. It
is indifferent whether we say--It _becomes_ he, or, he _becomes_ it.
[38] It might be a mean of preventing many unhappy marriages, if the
youth of both sexes had it early impressed on their minds, that
Marriage contracted between Christians is a true and perfect Symbol or
Mystery; that is, the actualizing Faith being supposed to exist in the
Receivers, it is an outward Sign co-essential with that which it
signifies, or a living Part of that, the whole of which it represents.
Marriage, therefore, in the Christian sense (Ephesians v. 22-33), as
symbolical of the union of the Soul with Christ the Mediator, and with
God through Christ, is perfectly a _sacramental_ ordinance, and not
retained by the Reformed Churches as one of THE Sacraments, for two
reasons; first, that the Sign is not _distinctive_ of the Church of
Christ, and the Ordinance not peculiar nor owing its origin to the
Gospel Dispensation; secondly, it is not of universal obligation, not
a means of Grace enjoined on all Christians. In other and plainer
words, Marriage does not contain in itself an open Profession of
Christ, and it is not a Sacrament of the _Church_, but only of certain
Individual Members of the Church. It is evident, however, that neither
of these reasons affect or diminish the _religious_ nature and
dedicative force of the marriage Vow, or detract from the solemnity in
the Apostolic Declaration: THIS IS A GREAT MYSTERY.
The interest which the state has in the appropriation of one woman to
one man, and the civil obligations therefrom resulting, form an
altogether distinct consideration. When I meditate on the words of the
Apostle, confirmed and illustrated as they are, by so many harmonies
in the Spiritual Structure of our proper Humanity, (in the image of
God, male and female created he the man), and then reflect how little
claim so large a number of legal cohabitations have to the name of
Christian marriages--I feel inclined to doubt whether the plan of
celebrating marriages universally by the Civil Magistrate, in the
first instance, and leaving the _religious_ Covenant and sacramental
Pledge to the election of the parties themselves, adopted during the
Republic in England, and in our own times by the French Legislature,
was not _in fact_, whatever it might be in intention, _reverential_ to
Christianity. At all events, it was their own act and choice, if the
parties made bad worse by the profanation of a Gospel Mystery.
PRUDENTIAL APHORISMS.
APHORISM I.
LEIGHTON AND COLERIDGE.
With respect to any final aim or end, the greater part of mankind live
at hazard. They have no certain harbour in view, nor direct their
course by any fixed star. But to him that knoweth not the port to
which he is bound, no wind can be favourable; neither can he who has
not yet determined at what mark he is to shoot, direct his arrow
aright.
It is not, however, the less true, that there is a proper object to
aim at; and if this object be meant by the term happiness, (though I
think that not the most appropriate term for a state, the perfection
of which consists in the exclusion of all _hap_ (that is, chance)), I
assert that there is such a thing as human happiness, as _summum
bonum_, or ultimate good. What this is, the Bible alone shows clearly
and certainly, and points out the way that leads to the attainment of
it. This is that which prevailed with St. Augustine to study the
Scriptures, and engaged his affection to them. "In Cicero, and Plato,
and other such writers," says he, "I meet with many things acutely
said, and things that excite a certain warmth of emotion, but in none
of them do I find these words, _Come unto me, all ye that labour, and
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest_."[39]
COMMENT.
Felicity, _in its proper_ sense, is but another word for
fortunateness, or happiness; and I can see no advantage in the
improper use of words, when proper terms are to be found, but, on the
contrary, much mischief. For, by familiarizing the mind to _equivocal_
expressions, that is, such as may be taken in two or more different
meanings, we introduce confusion of thought, and furnish the sophist
with his best and handiest tools. For the juggle of sophistry
consists, for the greater part, in using a word in one sense in the
premise, and in another sense in the conclusion. We should accustom
ourselves to _think_, and _reason_, in precise and stedfast terms;
even when custom, or the deficiency, or the corruption of the language
will not permit the same strictness in speaking. The mathematician
finds this so necessary to the truths which he is seeking, that his
science begins with, and is founded on, the definition of his terms.
The botanist, the chemist, the anatomist, &c., feel and submit to this
necessity at all costs, even at the risk of exposing their several
pursuits to the ridicule of the many, by technical terms, hard to be
remembered, and alike quarrelsome to the ear and the tongue. In the
business of moral and religious reflection, in the acquisition of
clear and distinct conceptions of our duties, and of the relations in
which we stand to God, our neighbour, and ourselves, no such
difficulties occur. At the utmost we have only to rescue words,
already existing and familiar, from the false or vague meanings
imposed on them by carelessness, or by the clipping and debasing
misusage of the market. And surely happiness, duty, faith, truth, and
final blessedness, are matters of deeper and dearer interest for all
men, than circles to the geometrician, or the characters of plants to
the botanist, or the affinities and combining principle of the
elements of bodies to the chemist, or even than the mechanism (fearful
and wonderful though it be!) of the perishable Tabernacle of the Soul
can be to the anatomist. Among the _aids to_ reflection, place the
following maxim prominent: let distinctness in expression advance side
by side with distinction in thought. For one useless subtlety in our
elder divines and moralists, I will produce ten sophisms of
equivocation in the writings of our modern preceptors: and for one
error resulting from excess in _distinguishing_ the indifferent, I
would show ten mischievous delusions from the habit of _confounding_
the diverse. Whether you are reflecting for yourself, or reasoning
with another, make it a rule to ask yourself the precise meaning of
the word, on which the point in question appears to turn; and if it
may be (that is, by writers of authority _has been_) used in several
senses, then ask which of these the word is at present intended to
convey. By this mean, and scarcely without it, you will at length
acquire a facility in detecting the _quid pro quo_. And believe me, in
so doing you will enable yourself to disarm and expose four-fifths of
the main arguments of our most renowned irreligious philosophers,
ancient and modern. For the _quid pro quo_ is at once the rock and
quarry, on and with which the strong-holds of disbelief, materialism,
and (more pernicious still) epicurean morality are built.
[39] _Apud Ciceronem et Platonem, aliosque ejusmodi scriptores, multa
sunt acute dicta, et leniter calentia, sed in iis omnibus hoc non
invenio, Venite ad me_, &c. [Matt. xii. 28.]
APHORISM II.
LEIGHTON.
If we seriously consider what religion is, we shall find the saying of
the wise king Solomon to be unexceptionably true: _Her ways are ways
of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace_.[40]
Doth religion require anything of us more than that we live _soberly,
righteously, and godly in this present world_? Now what, I pray, can
be more pleasant or peaceable than these? Temperance is always at
leisure, luxury always in a hurry: the latter weakens the body and
pollutes the soul; the former is the sanctity, purity, and sound state
of both. It is one of Epicurus's fixed maxims, "That life can never be
pleasant without virtue."
COMMENT.
In the works of moralists, both Christian and Pagan, it is often
asserted (indeed there are few common-places of more frequent
recurrence) that the happiness even of this life consists solely, or
principally, in virtue; that virtue is the only happiness of this
life; that virtue is the truest _pleasure_, &c.
I doubt not that the meaning, which the writers intended to convey by
these and the like expressions, was true and wise. But I deem it safer
to say, that in all the outward relations of this life, in all our
outward conduct and actions, both in what we should do, and in what we
should abstain from, the dictates of virtue are the very same with
those of self-interest, tending _to_, though they do not proceed
_from_, the same point. For the outward object of virtue being the
greatest producible sum of happiness of all men, it must needs include
the object of an intelligent self-love, which is the greatest possible
happiness of one individual; for what is true of all, must be true of
each. Hence, you cannot become better (that is, more virtuous), but
you will become happier: and you cannot become worse (that is, more
vicious), without an increase of misery (or at the best a proportional
loss of enjoyment) as the consequence. If the thing were not
inconsistent with our well-being, and known to be so, it would not
have been classed as a _vice_. Thus what in an enfeebled and
disordered mind is called prudence, is the voice of nature in a
healthful state: as is proved by the known fact, that the prudential
duties, (that is, those actions which are commanded by virtue
_because_ they are prescribed by prudence), the animals fulfil by
natural instinct.
The pleasure that accompanies or depends on a healthy and vigorous
body will be the consequence and reward of a temperate life and habits
of active industry, whether this pleasure were or were not the chief
or only determining _motive_ thereto. Virtue may, possibly, add to the
pleasure a good of another kind, a higher good, perhaps, than the
worldly mind is capable of understanding, a spiritual complacency, of
which in your present sensualized state you can form no idea. It may
_add_, I say, but it cannot detract from it. Thus the reflected rays
of the sun that gave light, distinction, and endless multiformity to
the mind, afford at the same time the pleasurable sensation of
_warmth_ to the body.
If then the time has not yet come for any thing higher, act on the
maxim of seeking the most pleasure with the least pain: and, if only
you do not seek where you yourself _know_ it will not be found, this
very pleasure and this freedom from the disquietude of pain may
produce in you a state of being directly and indirectly favourable to
the germination and up-spring of a nobler seed. If it be true, that
men are miserable because they are wicked, it is likewise true, that
many men are wicked because they are miserable. Health, cheerfulness,
and easy circumstances, the ordinary consequence of Temperance and
Industry, will at least leave the field clear and open, will tend to
preserve the scales of the judgment even: while the consciousness of
possessing the esteem, respect, and sympathy of your neighbours, and
the sense of your own increasing power and influence, can scarcely
fail to give a tone of dignity to your mind, and incline you to hope
nobly of your own Being. And thus they may prepare and predispose you
to the sense and acknowledgment of a principle, differing not merely
in degree but in _kind_ from the faculties and instincts of the higher
and more intelligent species of animals, (the ant, the beaver, the
elephant), and which principle is therefore your proper humanity. And
on this account and with this view alone may certain modes of
pleasurable or _agreeable_ sensation, without confusion of terms, be
honoured with the title of refined, intellectual, ennobling pleasures.
For Pleasure (and happiness in its proper sense is but the continuity
and sum-total of the pleasure which is allotted or happens to a man,
and hence by the Greeks called ευτυχια, that is, good-hap, or more
religiously ευδαιμονια, that is, favourable providence)--pleasure, I
say, consists in the harmony between the specific excitability of a
living creature, and the exciting causes correspondent thereto.
Considered therefore exclusively in and for itself, the only question
is, _quantum_, not _quale_? _How much on the whole?_ the contrary,
that is, the painful and disagreeable having been subtracted. The
quality is a matter of _taste_: _et de gustibus non est disputandum_.
No man can judge for another.
This, I repeat, appears to me a safer language than the sentences
quoted above, (that virtue alone is happiness; that happiness consists
in virtue, &c.) sayings which I find it hard to reconcile with other
positions of still more frequent occurrence in the same divines, or
with the declaration of St. Paul: "If in this life only we have hope,
we are of all men most miserable."
At all events, I should rely far more confidently on the converse,
namely, that to be vicious is to be _miserable_. Few men are so
utterly reprobate, so imbruted by their vices, as not to have some
lucid, or at least quiet and sober, intervals; and in such a moment,
_dum desæviunt iræ_, few can stand up unshaken against the appeal to
their own experience--what have been the wages of sin? what has the
devil done for you? What sort of master have you _found_ him? Then let
us in befitting _detail_, and by a series of questions that ask no
loud, and are secure against any _false_, answer, urge home the proof
of the position, that to be vicious is to be wretched: adding the
fearful corollary, that if even in the body, which as long as life is
in it can never be _wholly_ bereaved of pleasurable sensations, vice
is found to be misery, what must it not be in the world to come?
There, where even the _crime_ is no longer possible, much less the
gratifications that once attended it--where nothing of vice remains
but its guilt and its misery--vice must be misery itself, all and
utter misery.--So best, if I err not, may the motives of prudence be
held forth, and the impulses of self-love be awakened, in alliance
with truth, and free from the danger of confounding things (the Laws
of Duty, I mean, and the Maxims of Interest) which it deeply concerns
us to keep distinct, inasmuch as this distinction and the faith
therein are essential to our moral nature, and this again the
ground-work and pre-condition of the spiritual state, in which the
Humanity strives after Godliness, and, in the name and power, and
through the prevenient and assisting grace, of the Mediator, will not
strive in vain.
The _advantages_ of a life passed in conformity with the precepts of
virtue and religion, and in how many and various respects they
recommend virtue and religion, even on grounds of prudence, form a
delightful subject of meditation, and a source of refreshing thought
to good and pious men. Nor is it strange if, transported with the
view, such persons should sometimes discourse on the charms of forms
and colours to men whose eyes are not yet _couched_; or that they
occasionally seem to invert the relations of cause and effect, and
forget that there are acts and determinations of the will and
affections, the _consequences_ of which may be plainly foreseen, and
yet cannot be made our proper and primary _motives_ for such acts and
determinations, without destroying or entirely altering the distinct
nature and character of the latter. Sophron is well informed that
wealth and extensive patronage will be the consequence of his
obtaining the love and esteem of Constantia. But if the foreknowledge
of this consequence were, and were _found out_ to be, Sophron's main
and determining motive for seeking this love and esteem; and if
Constantia were a woman that merited, or was capable of feeling,
either the one or the other; would not Sophron find (and deservedly
too) aversion and contempt in their stead? Wherein, if not in this,
differs the friendship of worldlings from true friendship? Without
kind offices and useful services, wherever the power and opportunity
occur, love would be a hollow pretence. Yet what noble mind would not
be offended, if he were thought to value the love for the sake of the
services, and not rather the services for the sake of the love?
[40] Proverbs iii. 17.--ED.
APHORISM III.
Though prudence in itself is neither virtue nor spiritual holiness,
yet without prudence, or in opposition to it, neither virtue nor
holiness can exist.
APHORISM IV.
Art thou under the tyranny of sin? a slave to vicious habits? at
enmity with God, and a skulking fugitive from thy own conscience? O,
how idle the dispute, whether the listening to the dictates of
_prudence_ from prudential and self-interested motives be virtue or
merit, when the _not_ listening is guilt, misery, madness, and
despair! The best, the most _Christianlike_ pity thou canst show, is
to take pity on thy own soul. The best and most acceptable service
thou canst render, is to do justice and show mercy to _thyself_.
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS APHORISMS.
APHORISM I.
LEIGHTON.
What the Apostles were in an extraordinary way, befitting the first
annunciation of a Religion for all Mankind, this all Teachers of Moral
Truth, who aim to prepare for its reception by calling the attention
of men to the Law in their own hearts, may, without presumption,
consider themselves to be, under ordinary gifts and circumstances;
namely, Ambassadors for the Greatest of Kings, and upon no mean
employment, the great Treaty of Peace and Reconcilement betwixt him
and Mankind.
APHORISM II.
_On the Feelings Natural to Ingenuous Minds towards those who have
first led them to Reflect._
LEIGHTON.
Though Divine Truths are to be received equally from every Minister
alike, yet it must be acknowledged that there is something (we know
not what to call it) of a more acceptable reception of those which at
first were the means of bringing men to God, than of others; like the
opinion some have of physicians, whom they love.
APHORISM III.
LEIGHTON AND COLERIDGE.
The worth and value of Knowledge is in proportion to the worth and
value of its object. What, then, is the best knowledge?
The exactest knowledge of things, is, to know them in their causes; it
is then an excellent thing, and worthy of their endeavours who are
most desirous of knowledge, to know the best things in their highest
causes; and the happiest way of attaining to this knowledge, is, to
possess those things, and to know them in experience.
APHORISM IV.
LEIGHTON.
It is one main point of happiness, that he that is happy doth know and
judge himself to be so. This being the peculiar good of a reasonable
creature, it is to be enjoyed in a reasonable way. It is not as the
dull resting of a stone, or any other natural body in its natural
place; but the knowledge and consideration of it is the fruition of
it, the very relishing and tasting of its sweetness.
REMARK.
As in a Christian land we receive the lessons of Morality in connexion
with the Doctrines of Revealed Religion, we cannot too early free the
mind from prejudices widely spread, in part through the abuse, but far
more from ignorance, of the true meaning of doctrinal Terms, which,
however they may have been perverted to the purposes of Fanaticism,
are not only scriptural, but of too frequent occurrence in Scripture
to be overlooked or passed by in silence. The following extract,
therefore, deserves attention, as clearing the doctrine of Salvation,
in connexion with the divine Foreknowledge, from all objections on
the score of Morality, by the just and impressive view which the
Archbishop here gives of those occasional revolutionary moments, that
_Turn of the Tide_ in the mind and character of certain Individuals,
which (taking a religious course, and referred immediately to the
Author of all Good) were in his day, more generally than at present,
entitled EFFECTUAL CALLING. The theological interpretation and the
philosophic validity of this Apostolic Triad, Election, Salvation, and
Effectual Calling, (the latter being the intermediate), will be found
among the Comments on the Aphorisms of Spiritual Import. For our
present purpose it will be sufficient if only I prove, that the
Doctrines are in themselves _innocuous_, and may be both holden and
taught without any practical ill-consequences, and without detriment
to the moral frame.
APHORISM V.
LEIGHTON.
Two Links of the Chain (namely, Election and Salvation) are up in
heaven in God's own hand; but this middle one (that is, Effectual
Calling) is let down to earth, into the hearts of his children, and
they laying hold on it have sure hold on the other two: for no power
can sever them. If, therefore, they can read the characters of God's
image in their own souls, those are the counterpart of the golden
characters of his love, in which their names are written in the book
of life. Their believing writes their names under the promises of the
revealed book of life (the Scriptures) and thus ascertains them, that
the same names are in the secret book of life which God hath by
himself from eternity. So that finding the stream of grace in their
hearts, though they see not the fountain whence it flows, nor the
ocean into which it returns, yet they know that it hath its source in
their eternal election, and shall empty itself into the ocean of their
eternal salvation.
If _election_, _effectual calling_, and _salvation_ be inseparably
linked together, then, by any one of them a man may lay hold upon all
the rest, and may know that his hold is sure; and this is the way
wherein we may attain and ought to seek, the comfortable assurance of
the love of God. Therefore _make your calling sure_, and by that your
_election_; for that being done, this follows of itself. We are not to
pry immediately into the decree, bu
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