Philosophy of the plan of salvation ...

Front matter

Book lW-2l_

VOL

PHILOSOPHY

Author's Preface

TO THE SECOND EDITION.

The increasing demand for the " Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation," and the general and veiy favorable notices which it received from the secular and religious presses of the country, as well as from distinguished individuals, had produced in the mind of the author the desire to make some additions to the volume, with the hope of rendering it more worthy of the favor with which the first edition was received. A second edition, however, being called for so soon, and the copyright being transferred to a publisher who desires to stereotype the work immediately, leisure has not been obtained to make the designed additions ; and furthermore, it has been doubted whether any enlargement of the volume, at the present time, would add much to its value, or to its circulation. It is issued, therefore, in its original form, with only a few verbal emendations.

It is a fact grateful to the feelings of the author, and one which perhaps ought to be mentioned, that copies of the first edition were put into the hands of several intelligent skeptics: m all but a single case the individuals expressed a favorable change in their views, either in relation to the truth and authority of the dispensations proper of Moses and Christ, or of the exclusive adaptedness of the Christian dispensation to meet all the spiritual wants of men.

IX

X AUTHOB'S PREFACE.

In the reviews of the book the final conclusion derived synthetically, by combining the results produced by an analysis of the different propositions examined, is not noticed so fully as some other features of the work. The book is a series of independent demonstrations, the iesults of which accumulate to the final conclusion, that the , Christian religion is necessarily the only religion possible { to meet the spiritual wants of mankind.

In arriving at this conclusion, the different parts and processes of revealed religion are examined, and their adaptedness to perform their several functions in elevating, purifying, and actuating the human soul to benevolent effort, is determined, and, finally, the practical operation of the system is shown, as a matter of undeniable experience, to produce the complete and necessary result required.

By this method the conclusion is brought out with a degree of accuracy approaching, if it does not reacb, mathematical demonstration, that the truths and manifestations of the Christian religion are adapted to carry forward man's moral powers to their ultimata development ; that the power applied fills the capacity of the human soul. As four is contained in twelve three times, and as twelve is the only number in which four is three times contained ; so the capacities and susceptibilities of the human soul being given, and the power and adaptations of revelation being ascertained, the result is obtained (may it not be said with mathematical certainty?) that Christianity, as taught by the interpretation and experience of evangelical Christians, is the true religion* and the only religion possible for human nature.

Chapter I. Page

Man will worship — He will become assimilated to the character of the object that he worships — Character of heathen deities defective and earthly — Prom this corrupting worship man has no power to extricate himself, 50

CHAPTER IX.

Concerning the design and necessity of the bondage in Egypt, 53

Introduction

We ask not that a man should come to an investigation of the evidences of the Christian revelation with a pre-judgment in its favor; we ask only that there be no prejudice in the soul against it. It is only when a man looks through a glass which is perfectly clear and pure, that he sees things as they are ; if the glass be m the least degree distorted or discolored, every object seen through it will necessarily partake of the distortion and discoloration. So cur Saviour teaches us, Matth. V. 22, 23. This is said expressly in regard to the blinding power of avarice in perverting the religious judgments, (compare vs. 19, 20 ;) and the same is true of every other forbidden state of mind and affection. When there is no mental or moral preoccupation averse to the Christian system, the surprising adaptations of this system to meet and relieve the wants and sorrows of man, constitute a species of evidence which is real and most convincing ; some traits, which on a superficial view seemed unfavorable, on closer scrutiny are found to be among the strongest links in the chain of demonstration. Again, the mind may be in such a state that the clearest evidence of this kind will produce upon it no effect whatever. There is a voluntary and perfect unsusceptibility to any impression from it.

The idea which I wish to convey c *n probably be best illustrated by an example. We will suppose a shipwreck m which every soul perishes except two passenger^ whom we will name Benignus and Contumax. With nothing saved but their lives, they are cast upon the rocky shore of a desert island, where there is no prospect to cheer the eye, and neither vegetable nor animal nor human habitation to give them hope of aid or sustenance.

The first emotions of Benignus, after struggling through the waves, are admiring gratitude 10 God foT giving him his life, and a cheerful confidence that he who had aided him thus far, would not then leave him to perish. The first emotions of Contumax are murmuring regret that he has lost his voyage and lost his money, and is thrown upon a desolate coast with no immediate prospect of getting away. He wonders why such ill luck should always happen to him ; he is indignant that he was ever such a fool as to trust himself to the sea ; he wonders he could not have had sense enough to remain at home.

Presently Benignus discovers in the rock, far above the reach of the waves, a spacious cavern, the entrance to which is protected by an artificial wall, and its sides pierced, evidently by a human hand, for the admission of light and air. Benignus is delighted ; he immediately concludes that some benevolent individuals, or some paternal government, had provided this shelter on purpose for unfortunate mariners who might be shipwrecked on the inhospitable shore.

Contumax scorns any such inference ; ho ctnnot sec why benevolent people should wish to drive poor shipwrecked wretches into such a dismal hole in the rock,

INTROII/CTION. 27

instead oi providing them with a comfortable and pleasant home. Benignus reminds him that a house with windows and doors could not endure the storms of such a coast ; and as no one would live there to take care of it, it would be continually out of repair, and far less comfortable than the cavern; and therefore the very nature of the shelter provided should be regarded as a striking proof not only of the benevolence, but also of the wisdom of the provider. But Contumax is thinking of a handsome house in a green yard, filled with the shrubbery of a fine climate, and cannot see a particle of either wisdom or benevolence in the rocky grotto. He, how ever, avails himself of the shelter for want of a better.

Benignus soon finds, carefully stored away beyond the reach of damp, a tinder-box with all the necessary furnishing, and a quantity of dry fuel for making a fire. " See," says he joyfully to his companion, " anothei proof of the benevolent care of the provider of the cavern; here are all the materials for making a quick fire, of which we are so much in need." " How do you know," replies Contumax, " that these things came here in that way ? They probably belong to some poor wretch who has been shipwrecked before us, and found a chance to get away again, as I wish from my heart 1 could do." Benignus thinks that the great care with which they were put away out of the reach of injury is a sufficient indication that they were not left by one joyously hastening away, intent only on his own selfish interest, but must have been deposited there by some benevolent hand, for the express purpose of relieving the suffering; but Contumax cherishes no such romantic ideas.

Bern gnus, greatly delighted with what he has already discovered, makes further search in the cave, and finds plain and wholesome provisions, such as would not soon be injured, together with medicines and cordials ; and also a supply of coarse, but clean and warm clothing, carefully cased up so as to preserve them from all injury of wet or moth. "Now," says Benignus to his companion, "you certainly will be convinced mat this place was provided by some benevolent hand on purpose for the shipwrecked. Here is evidence whicn cannot be gainsaid." ' We have more reason to apprehend," growls Contumax, " that we have fallen upon the haunts of pirates ; who are now absent on their depredations, but will soon return to murder us." " IN ay," replies Benignus, " these are not the spoils of pirates ; here are neither jewels nor silks, here is no gold or silver — here are neither costly vbnds nor rich wines nor intoxicating orandies ; and besides, the things are laid away with much more care and scrupulous nicety than suits the wasteful and licentious habits of pirates." " Well, at any rate," replies Contumax, " the donor must be a vulgar, stingy fellow, to put us off with such coarse food and raiment." " But you do not consider," says Benignus, M that these things must not be so costly as to tempt cupidity, since they cannot be kept under lock and Key, — and besides, they are healthful and comfortable, and far better adapted to the condition of those most likely tc need them, than if they had been of fine material; for twenty sailors suffer shipwreck, where one gentleman is suoject to such a misfortune." The only reply which Contumax has tc this is, to keep the thought well up in his own mind, "lama gentieman ar d not a sailor."

Coi tumax, however, does not hesitate to warm himself by the fire which Ben i gnus has made of the materials found in the cave ; he partakes largely and with great zest of the provisions and cordials, simple as they are ; gladly lays aside his own wet and torn clothing, for the coarse but comfortable and dry raiment provided for him ; and fixing himself in the most easy position he can devise, and as near the various comforts of the grotto as he can get, he is quite ready to enter upon an argument to any extent. He is a great reasoner, Contumax is. He can prove most philosophically that Benignus canvot prove that there was any benevolent intention at ail in anybody in providing and furnishing that cavern — he can prove to a dead certainty that, for all which can be proved to the contrary, it might have been a mere accident, a blunder, a selfish enterprise ; that nobody knows anything about it — and he can account for it in twenty ways, without the least supposition of wisdom or benevolence, or anything of the kind. The only thing he is certain of is, that he is in a miserable place — he thinks somebody is greatly to blame for putting him chere — and is under decided obligation to get him safely iway again.

What kind of reasoning can you apply to such a mind ? What sort of evidence can such a man perceive or appreciate ? What can he see in a pure light while his eyes ar8 suffused with jaundice ?

This character represents, and not unfairly, by far the largest class of skeptics, which exist in Christian lands.

There is in them all a tinge of disaffection, of misanthropy, or rather, of theomisey — if we may be allowed to coin a word, to express an idea which is often a reality,

30 IN'/RODUCTIDIV

bui which in our proper English tongue as yet has no name. This giver a dark shade to all their views of evidence, ar.d prevents their seeing any decided proof in trams of reasoning which, in other states of mind, would have all the force of absolute demonstration.

The man who has long held raw brandy in his mouth cannot immediately distinguish the taste of delicate wines ; and he who has accustomed his soul to the unfeeling roughness of a godless style of thought, loses the delicacy of moral perception, which to the experienced Christian is the very organ by which he receives ancl appropriates evidence on moral and religious subjects.

All reflecting men, when they seriously contemplate their moral condition in this world, feel very much like shipwrecked sailors. In regard to this single point there is very little difference between the believer and the unbeliever — between Benignus and Contumax. But there is a great difference in their feelings in reference to their condition after it has been surveyed. The believer feels that he yet has much to thank God for ; he feels real gratitude that his position is not still worse than it proves to be. The unbeliever, on the other hand, when he knows God, glorifies him not as God, neither is he thankful; and as a necessary consequence, he becomes vain in hU imagination, and his foolish heart is darkened. He feels under no particular obligation to God ; on the contrary, he rather thinks that God is under decided obligation to him, to treat him very well, and bring him easily and safety through the bad place into which he has thrown him.

In this state of mind he looks upon the divine arrangements actually made for his spiriturl good, and almost as a matter of course, he is dissatisfied. Such being the different state of mind of the two classes of persons, the fa:ts of the Christian revelation, although substantially the same as they present themselves to both, yet produce very diverse and even opposite effects ; to the belieVer establishing his faith, to the unbeliever confirming his skepticism ; to the one a savor of life unto life, to the ether a savor of death unto death.

Meanwhile, the most scornful unbeliever quietly avails himself of all the incidental advantages which the Christian system brings, makes himself very comfortable with all the social improvements which it originates, and employs the mental culture which he himself owes to it, in strenuous exertions to disprove its intelligent and benevolent o rig-in.

We will endeavor to show, in a few particulars, the different effects which the same aspects of revelation produce on the two different classes of mind under consideration.

To both, revelation presents itself as, in the main, very plain and homely in its garb. To the unbeliever, this is offensive, unworthy of God. He would have something more in accordance with the ambitious style of the little greatness of this world, for he has never learned that the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. The believer understands that the greater part of God's children, tor whom revelation is designed, are plain and homely people, that their souls are as precious as the souls of the proud and mighty, and in eternity may be altogether more elevated; and he knows if one cannot perceive the real dignity and refinement of Scripture, it must be

32 INTRODUJTION.

because his ideas of dignity and refinement are factitious, and not natural.

Both the believer and the unbeliever see things in the Bible that are severe and rough. The destruction of Sodom, :he stoning of the Sabbath-breaker, the extirpa* don of the Canaanites, are matters of fact in the eyes of both. But in this atmosphere, the philosophic infidel fee 1 ^ as unc Dinfortably as Con turn ax in the cave. The believer, however, reflects that since God does not choose to purify men by physical omnipotence, but by moral means and influences only, he must of course address each age by means adapted to the condition of each, and rough generations must be met with severe measures J just as Benignus sees that a cavern with loop-holes and guard-walls, instead of a house with doors and windows, is admirably fitted to a desolate and stormy coast.

Both understand that the vicious, the indolent and the careless cannot attain to correct views of revealed truth ; for the truth is so revealed that labor, effort, care and even energetic strugglings are essential to the acquisition of religious knowledge in its purity. To the unbeliever, this is all distasteful. He feels as if God were rmder obligations to make the way of salvation such that men would walk in it as a matter of course, without either effort or thought of their own ; that all he means of salvation should not only be such that they can be used, but such that they cannot be abused ; that men should not only be able to find the way of life, but absolutely unable to lose it. The believer perceives at once the total unreasonableness of these demands, and their entire inconsistency with all the arrangements of nature, it would be as ensv for God to cover the earth with railroads as with 1 lountaiiis, with canals as with rivers — to cause houses, all finished and furnished, to spring out of the ground as well as trees, and make the wheat-stalk bear a well-baked loaf of bread just as easily as the grain of wheat — and thus save men all the hard labor of toilsome tra r elling, of digging and building, of ploughing and plant ng, of harvesting and grinding and baking. Bu l has God done this ? And what would man be gocd for if he had ? So in religion, what would a free agent be who had nothing to do ? In all nature, that which can be used is susceptible also of abuse ; that which can do good can be perverted also to evil. Why does not the infidel require, as proof of the wisdom and goodness of the God of nature, a kind of water that can quench his thirst and clean his skin and float his ships, but which will never on any occasion drown anybody or make an inundation ; a kind of rain that will refresh his grass, but never wet his hay ; a kind of axe that will cut wood, but never penetrate the flesh of the wood-cutter; a kind of fire that will cook his food and warm him when he is cold, but can never burn him or reduce his dwelling to ashes ? The»se demands are all quite as reasonable as those which the infidel makes as conditions of his ideal ievelation , and the objections which are urged w.Tth so much confidence against the Bible, and gain so easy a reception among men, proceed on a principle which would be scouted and scorned by all the world as unspeakably ridiculous i; applied to nature. The believer recognizes the God of the Bible and the God of nature as the same ; and when he sees the same kind of analogies running through both, it confirms his faith, instead cf shaking it

These illustrations might be pursued to almost any extent, at least till they had made a book much larger than the unpretending little volume which they are de* signed to introduce to the reader.

Having known something of this work from its inception to its completion, having witnessed with pleasure its remarkable success with the public, being confident that its influence must be good and only good in these times when philosophical skepticism and superstitious credulity are equally abundant and equally mischievous, 1 would gladly do whatever may be in my power to increase its circulation.

The argument itself, if not entirely original, is devel oped with a care, a consistency, and a thoroughness which can nowhere else be found, certainly in the same compass ; and the whole style of thought from beginning to end shows it to be the author's own work and not a thing which he has borrowed from others.

Such books add just so much to our stock of real intellectual wealth. They are like introducing into a community the gold and silver coins in full weight, instead of setting up a new bank on paper capital and issuing paper.

The argument will always be entirely satisfactory to Benignus; and though Contumax may still continue to cavil, every one will see that cavilling and refuting are two very different matters.

C. E Stowk.

Walnut Hills, Cincinnati, Ohio, May 22d, 1845.

PHILOSOPHY

OF THE

PLAN OF SALVATION.

Chapter 1 Introductory

MAN WILL WORSHIP — HE WILL BECOME ASSIMI- LATE]) TO THE CHARACTER OF THE OBJECT

THAT HE WORSHIPS CHARACTER OF HEATHEN

DEITIES DEFECTIVE AND UNHOLY — FROM THIS CORRUPTING WORSHIP MAN HAS NO POWER TO EXTRICATE HIMSELF.

There are three facts, each of them fully developed in the experience of the human family, a consideration of which will prepare the mind for the investigation which follows. When considered in their relation to each other, and in their healing upon the moral interests of mankind, they will be seen to be of exceeding importance. We will adduce these facts, in connection with the statements and principles upon which they rest, and show how vital are the interests which depend upon them.

THE FIRST FACT STATED.

There is in the nature of man, or in the circumstances in which he is conditioned, something which leads him to recognize and worship a superior being. What that something is, is not important in our present inquiry : -whether it be a constitutional instinct inwrought by the Maker— whether it be a deduction of universal reason, inferring a first cause from the things that are made — whether it be the effect of tradition, descending from the first worshippers, through all the tribes of the human family — whether any or ail of these be the cause, the fact is the same — Man is a religious being — he will worship

In view of this propension of human nature, pnilosophers, in seeking a generic appellation for man have denominated him a " religious animal" The characteristic is true of him in whatever part of the world he may be found, and in whatever condition ; and it has been true of him in all ages of which we have any record either fabulous or authentic.

Navigators have, in a few instances, reported that isolated tribes of men, whom they visited, recognized the existence of no superior being: subsequent researches, however, have generally corrected the erroi — and, in all cases, when it has been supposed that a tribe of men was found believing in no god, the fact has been stated as an evidence of their degradation below the mass of their species, and of their approximation to the confines of brute nature. Of the whole family of man, existing in all ages, and scattered over the four Quarters of the globe, and in the isles of the sea, there s scarcely one well authenticated exception to the fact, that moved by an impulse of nature, or the force of circumstances, man worships something which he believes to be endowed with the attributes of a superior being.

THE SECOND FACT STATED.

The second fact, connected as it is, by the nature of things, with the preceding, assumes the highest degree of importance. It may be stated in the following terms : —Man, by worshipping, becomes assimilated to the moral character of the object which he ivorships. This is an invariable principle, operating with the certainty of cause and effect. The worshipper looks upon the character of the object which he worships as the standard of perfection. He therefore condemns every thing in himself which is unlike, and approves of every thing which is. like that character. The tendency of this is to lead him to abandon every thing in himself, and in his course of life, which is condemned by the character and precepts of his god, and to conform himself to that standard which is approved by the same criterion. The worshipper desires the favor of the object worshipped, and this, reason dictates, can be obtained only by conformity tc the will and the character of that object. To become us similated to the image of the object worshipped must be the end of desire with the worshipper. His aspuations, therefore, every time he worships. do, from the nature of the case, assimilate his character more and more to the model of the object that receives his homage.

To this fact the whole history of the idolatrous world bears testimony. Without an exception, the character of every nation and tribe of the human family has been formed and modified, in a great degree, by the character attributed to their gods.

From the history of idolatrous nations we will cite a number of familiar cases, confirmatory of the j/ foregoing statement, that man becomes like the object of his worship.

A most striking instance is that of the Scythians, and other tribes of the Northmen, who subdued and finally annihilated the Roman power. Odin, Thor, and others of their supposed deities, were ideas of hero-kings, blood-thirsty and cruel, clothed with the attributes of deity, and worshipped. Their worship turned the. milk of human kindness into gall in the bosoms of their votaries, and they seemed, like blood-hounds, to be possessed of a horrid delight when they were revelling in scenes of blood and slaughter. It being believed that one of their hero-gods, after destroying great numbers of the human race, destroyed himself, it hence became disreputable to die in bed, and those who did not meet death in battle frequently committed Filicide, sup-

PLAN OP SALVATION £S ( J

posing that to die a natural death might exclude them from favor in the hall of Valhalla.

Among the gods of the Greeks and Romans there were some names, in the early ages of their history, to which some virtuous attributes were attached ; but the conduct and character generally attributed to their gods were marked deeply with such traits as heroism, vengeance, caprice and lust. In thG later history of these nations, their idolatry degenerated in character, and became a system of most debasing tendency.

The heroism fostered by idolatry was its least injurious influence. Popes couplet, had he thrown a ray or two of light across the back ground of the dark picture, would have been a correct delineation of the character of Pagan idols —

Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust ; Whose attributes were rage, revenge and lust.

In some cases the most corrupt attributes of human nature, and even of brute nature, were attributed to objects of worship, and while men bowed down to them, they sunk themselves to the lowest depths of vice. The Egyptians might be named as an instance. The first patrons of the arts and sciences were brute- worshippers ; and it is testified of them that bestiality, the lowest vice to which human nature can descend, was common amongst them. The paintings and sculpture of their divinities, in the mummy catacombs, are for the most part, clusters of beasts, birds, reptiles and flies, grouped together in the most disgusting and un* natural relations ; a true indication that the minds of the worshippers were filled with ideas the mosi vile and unnatural.

The ancient Venus, as worshipped by almost all the elder nations of antiquity, was a personification of lust. The deeds required to be done at her polluting fane, as acts of homage, ought not to be named.

In the best days of Corinth — " Corinth, the eys of Greece" — the most sacred persons in the city were prostitutes, consecrated to the worship of Venus. From this source she derived a large portion of her revenues. The consequence was that her inhabitants became proverbial for dissoluteness and treachery.

To the heathen divinities, especially those placed at the head of the catalogue as the superior gods, what theologians have called the physical attributes of deity — omnipotent and omnipresent power — were generally ascribed ; but their moral character was always defective, and generally criminal. As one of the best instances in the whole mythology of the ancients, the Roman Jupiter might be cited. Had a medal been struck delineating the character of this best of the gods, on one side might have been engraved Almightiness, Omnipresence, Justice ; and on the reverse, Caprice, Vengeance, Lust. Thus men clothed depraved or bestial deities with almighty power, and they became cruel, or corrupt, or bestial in their affections, by the reaction of the character worshipped upon the character of the wor shipper. In the strong language of a recent writer, u ihey clothed beasts and depraved beings with the attribute of Almightiness, and in effect they worshipped almighty beasts and devils." And the more they worshipped the more they resembled them.

These testimonies concerning the influence of idolatrous worship, and the character of the idols worshipped, are maintained by authorities which render doubt in relation to their credibility impossible. Upon this subject the wiser men among the Greeks and Romans have borne unequivocal testimony. Plato, in the second book of the Republic, speaks of the pernicious influence of the conduct attributed to the gods, and suggests that such histories should not be rehearsed in public, lest they should influence the youth to the commission oi crimes. Aristotle advises that statues and paintings of the gods should exhibit no indecent scenes, except in the temples of such divinities, as, according to common opinion, preside over sensuality* What an affecting testimony of the most discriminating mind among the heathen ! asserting not only the turpitude of the prevailing idolatry, but sanctioning the sensuality of their debauched worship,