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REVIEW 



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REV. DR. CHANNING'S DISCOURSE, 



PREACHED AT THE DEDICATION 



OF TH£ 



SECOND CONOREOATIONAL UNITARIAN CHURCH, 



NEW YORK, 



DECEMBER 7, 1826. 




^ td. /^^o^txe/7^ ^ ^inin<v 



BOSTON: 

HltUARD, GRAY, LITTLE, AND WILKINS. 

1827. 




FidB (h* VaitttOtT Fre»-Bj BiOUnt Mctoalt 4- Co. 



REVIEW. 



A Discourse^ preached at the Dedication of the Sec- 
ond Congregational Unitarian Churchy New York, 
Dec. 7, 1826. By William Ellert Channing. 
New York. Published for the Second Congrega- 
tional Unitarian Church. 1826. pp. 57. 

The Unitarian controversy in this country was 
commenced in 1815, by the publication of a pamphlet 
entitled, " American Unitarianism ; or a * Brief Histo- 
ry of the progress and present state of the Unitarian 
Churches in America ;' compiled from documents 
and information communicated by the Rev. James 
Freeman, D. D. and William Wells, Jun. Esq. of 
Boston, and from other Unitarian gentlemen in this 
country : By Rev. Thomas Belsham, Essex street, 
London ; extracted from his Memoirs of the Life 
of the Rev. Theophilus Lindsey, printed in London, 
in 1812, and now published for the benefit of the 
Christian Churches in this country, without note or 
alteration.^' In June, 1815, this pamphlet was re- 
viewed in the Panoplist, an Orthodox religious Jour- 
nal, at that time published, monthly, in this city. 
This review drew forth " A Letter to the Rev. Sam- 
uel C. Thatcher,'' then one of the \3mU\Vuv c\^t^ 




of Boston, " on the" alleged " aspersions contained in 
a late number of the Panoplist on the Ministers of 
Boston and the vicinity ; by William E. Channing* 
minister of the Church of Christ in Federal street, 
Boston." This Letter was answered by the Rev. 
Samuel Worcester, D. D., at that time pastor of the 
Tabernacle Church, Salem. Two additional pam- 
phlets were published by Mr. Channing, and two by 
Dr. Worcester. The controversy, as carried on in 
separate publications, was then suspended till 1819. 
The principal object of the Orthodox in this first dis- 
cussion, was completely attained. Unitarianism, 
which had before operated and spread in secret, was 
brought to light. Its existence, and something of its 
real character, were made known ; and, from that 
I time, the concealment of a minister's religious sys- 
' tern has, in this part of the country, been difficult, if 
not impracticable. 

Unitarians began now, in their periodical journals 
and in conversation, openly to state and advocate 
I their opinions, and to oppose and denounce those of 
' the Orthodox. The weapons of attack and defence 
they employed, were chiefly derived from Biblical 
literature. Erroneous readings, mistranslations, and 
wrong interpretations, were the charges perpetually 
preferred against the doctrines of the Orthodox, and 
the scriptural arguments by which they were main- 
tained. The Orthodox, it was alleged, had too su- 
perficial an acquaintance with the original languages 
of the Bible, and with those kindred dialects which 

tkave thrown so much light upon scriptural phraseolo- 
gy, and their investigations of the composition and 
history of the Bible were too limited, to ascertain 



1^ 
I* 

E 

I' 



what portions of the received text were genuine, and 
what were the doctrines really taught in those por- 
tions. Had they a little more learning, especially 
the learning requisite for a successful criticism of the 
Scriptures, they would, generally, there was no 
doubt, become Unitarians. The study of Biblical 
criticism was, moreover, beginning to be cultivated 
among them ; and the result, it was confidently and 
often predicted, would be, a rapid disappearance of 
the antiquated doctrines of Orthodoxy. And what 
was the result ? In 1819, Mr. now Dr. C banning 
preached and published his Baltimore sermon, which 
seems to have been the concerted signal for Unitarian 
clergymen generally to begin the distinct avowal of 
their opinions from the pulpit. This sermon was re- 
plied to by the Rev. Professor Stuart of Andover, in 
a series of ^^ Letters to the Rev. William E.C ban- 
ning." The points discussed in these Letters were, 
^* The principles of interpreting the Scriptures ; and 
the unity of God, and the divinity and humanity of 
Christ," as, in the view of the Orthodox, taught in 
several passages of the New Testament. The argu- 
ment of Professor Stuart was conducted almost en- 
tirely on the principles of Biblical criticism. These 
Letters were never answered ;* and from the time 

* We are aware that the writer of a review in the Christian Exami- 
ner for September and October, 1824, has said, p. 368, <« We had, with 
amazement, both seen in print, and heard in conversation, the assertion, 
that no reply had ever been made to Stuart's Letters on the Trinity ; 
and hence, in a tone of boasting, it was inferred that they were ac- 
knowledged to be nnanswerable ; notwithstanding that a roost thorough 
and conclusive reply had been printed in the Christian Disciple, and a 
very lai^e separate edition eag^erly bought up, and spread through the 
coomiunity." An assertion, which must fill every candid reader, ac- 
quainted with the facts, with ^ amazement** Professor Stuart's align- 
ment was almost entirely scriptural, consisting in a critical examination 
of a portion of the passages of the New Testament a\\p^Qae^\](^ VVa Ox« 



of Boston, "on the" alleged " »'■ ^ /;eard from 

a late number of the Pan'' ^' 

Boston and the vicinity ^Ji^^ffno^^^"^^ '° ^^' 

minister of the Churc' •^^'^^t- '^* doctrines 

Boston." This Le' ^^^^'^1^ absurd, wholly 
Samuel Worcester, ^j^.^'-' ^ ^^ns of God, and the 
Tabernacle Chu* ^''^'■'^^01 n""*' ^° ""^' " "'^^ 
phlets were pu* .••''^^ '''^i*^''''''„se of his dignity as an 
Dr. Worceslp 'X^'J ' -^ /" f''^ rectitude and good- 
separate pu> ^^0ff- "^^fe them. This was the gen- 
The priac' J'j^^.co^^'^^ia regard to Orthodoxy and its 
cussion, *J,V'' „/''*'"'' .(iiree years, until the close of 
which ' J^'"*^(o' '"^tyveea Dr. Woods and Dr. Ware, 
broug' titf^ttC"^^^ (iments of Unitarians and of Trini- 
real ''^.^ich '^^^ jviiiis'* weTQ discussed chiefly on this 
tim "'.,,ps»'": ^ (dat time we have heard little about 
'roi'"^' hyofthe two systems. They were now 
tbf P'"''*,o''ao'«her lest, that of tendency. 
'''*' iVare's Postscript to his second series of Let- 
J'''' ..j.|, closed his discussion with Dr. Woods, 
le'*' J in 1823. In the same year was published 
'Pf*:. gity an octavo volume, of four hundred and 
'" hre^n pages, entitled, " An Inquiry into the cora- 
°. ,jve moral tendency of Trinitarian and Unitarian 
ioctrines ; by Jared Sparks." Orthodoxy, it was 

Ibo^* to (each Uxe doctrines of Ihe Trioilj and of two oatures in Christ, 
irbilB t^ an^ument of Ibe ivritpr of the article in the CbristiaD Disci- 
pte referred In, was almost cniirelj philosophical, conaislin^ in as ex- 
aaiinBtioa of tho coOBialenc; of Ihe doctrinea menlioned irilh reason. 
nor is (bis all. The wrilpr of that article had himself only claimed 
Ihat it might be considered "a virtual answer" to Professor Stuart's 
Letlers, and bad said in his very first sentence, " Insleod of cootining 
oar attention exclusireiy to Professor Stuart's Iiettera. tve hare thought 
that it would be more useful and more salisfactorj to our readers, logive 
ftpneral view of the subject in controversy, witb the reasons for our 
own opinions, wUluiut partxeularnfertnet h '' ■^'' 



\ 



DOW said, again and again, tends to produce dishon- 
orable apprehensions of God, and gloomy views of 
life ; and to cramp and degrade the human mind, and 
must, from the nature of things, be inefficient in pro- 
ducing an elevated piety ; while Unitarianism, it was 
alleged, tends to produce exalted apprehensions of 
God, and cheerful views of life, and to enlarge and 
elevate the mind, and must produce, in those wha 
sincerely embrace it, a fervent and active piety. 
This was the strain of much that appeared in the re« 
ligious periodicals of the Unitarians, and, if we have 
not been misinformed, of much that was said in their 
ordinary discourses from the pulpit. In several oc- 
casional discourses, printed and published by Unita- 
rian clergymen, this advantage was distinctly and 
confidently claimed for their system. In a sermon,* 
preached at the weekly Lecture in the First Church 
in Boston, May 20, 1824, and published in the 
Christian Examiner for May and June in that year^ 
entitled, ^* On the Causes by which Unitarians have 
been withheld from exertions in the cause of Foreign 
missions," were the following remarks ; ^^ There is, 
however, yet one other cause, to which the enemies 
of our distinctive religious sentiments ascribe, what 
they call, our indifference on the subject of the con- 
version of the Heathen. It is said, that the evil is 
to be sought in the very nature and character of our 
religious sentiments. But is there any justice in this 
accusation ? Is there in our peculiar sentiments any 
thing to support the charge, that Unitarianism nar- 
rows our sympathies to the confines of those who be- 

*Thi8 sermon was said to ha?e been written by the gentleman who 
has since pablished '* An appeal to Liberal Chn&tiaxA &c VbA c»?»fe ^ 
Chnatianit/ ia jodia.'' 



I 




lieve with us ? that it brings a coldness over the 
heart, which beaumbs those affections that would 
otherwise spread tlietuselfes as widely as the exist- 
ence of man ? Is ours, as it is said to bt:, a religion 
of mere speculation ? This we most peremptorily 
■ den;." " I might, I think, most satisfactorily de- 
ktaonstrate, that, in our views of Christianity, there 
are exciiements of a far higher order than in those of 
any other class of Christians, to zeal in missionary 
labors for the conversion of the world. The time for- 
bids me even to name them ; though they furnish the 
best topic that could be desired, for appeals to rea- 
son, to conscience, and to the heart." Dr. Channing, 
in his sermon delivered at the ordination of his pres- 
ent colleague, June 30, 1824, said, p. 13, " It is ob- 
jected to (Jnitarianism that it does not possess this 
heart' stirring energy," of which he had tieen speak- 
ing as required in the ministry in the present age. 
And in a note appended to the printed discourse, he 
calls this *' a reproach thrown on Unitarian Chris- 
tianity ;" and proceeds to assign what he supposes 
to be the causes of the objection, but gives no proof 
of its being a " reproach." In a sermon preached at 
the dedication of the Twelfth Congregational Church 
in Boston, October 13, 1824, by the Rev. John 
G. Palfrey, minister of the congregation in Brattle 
Square, the preacher affirmed, that the "belief" 
of the Orthodox is "adverse to religious progress." 
Some of them, he admitted, have "become good 
Christians in despite of their errors." " But," he 
added, " while we emulate their attainments, may 
wc not think that a character whose root was so firm 
, as to withstand such a shock, might have swelled in- 



I 



to still nobler dimensions under the cultnre of a more 
spiritual and generous faith ?" ^^ Let us do no such 
injustice to the omnipotence of truth," by which he 
means the system of the Unitarians, *^ as to think it 
a sluggish element. It is thoroughly instinct with 
life.'' " The unadulterated system of truth," i. e. 
Unitarianismi ^Ms a powerfully enlightening and 
sanctifying faith." pp. 23, 24, 28, 80. 

Such were the assertions of leading Unitarians in 
relation to the tendency of the two systems ; but as 
yet no proof had been attempted of the truth of these 
assertions, except in Mr. Sparks's octavo, which had 
attracted but little attention. At length, on the 24th 
of Aogust, 1826, the colleague of Dr. Channing 
preached a discourse, at the dedication of the meet- 
ing-house erected the last year in Purchase Street, on 
Gral. iv. 17, "It is good to be zealously affected al- 
ways in a good thing." This sermon, said the 
Christian Register of Sept. 2, 1826, " was a power- 
ful exculpation of Unitarian Christians from the 
charge, that their sentiments encourage indifference 
to religion, and are incompatible with religious feel- 
ing. It was demonstrated that the doctrines are en- 
nobling to the mind, and favorable to piety and vir- 
tue. The Standing Committee of the Church have 
unanimously requested a copy of the sermon for the 
press, and we doubt not it will be perused with high 
satisfaction by the religious denomination to which 
the preacher beloi^. We hope it will be perused 
by others also, and that more candid judgment may 
be expressed towards Unitarians than has sometimes 
been done by those who did not understand, or re- 
frained from doing justice to, their sentmewls."^"^ TVvfc 

2 



10 

cdiKir of tke Chnsdu Exaauaer, m the BOBber far 
J«1t aad Ai^gKt 1826, sare aa abstnct of the aer- 
wmm^ 9mA Bade coacgtaiag k the feUovriag lemaiks. 
The f f iiathu ^ spoke of the Tiews we,^ Uakanaas, 
*^cMeffiaia of God : of his lelatioBS to «s as mat 
Cieaior* aad Father, aad oar fiaal Jadse, aad of oar 
■rhtina to hnt as chfldrem aad aoaeis. Upma dU 
Aese fmmis mw Joitrimes were skmrm io kepeemlimrbf 
miwfied la call ^^rfft ieep rtligioms tmoiimmy to 
enite mrdemi weUgmmsJeeHrngs. We wish are coald 
Rcall the laasoaee ia arhich was aKatioaed th 
atoh uitid of all reproaches, that we sake hot 
E^ toancr of siau It was aa eloqaeat aad 

rriiaiatMia of the calaasaT : aad we kaow aol 
aj oae who heard k,. caa ia co ascka c e heicaf- 
m repeat k.^ ^ Oa the whole k appeared, that, if 
UaiftnHHm daes aot sake sea aealoas, k is aot 
the £Mlt of the sjrstem, bat owia; to its aot heiag 
j o trHi g eatl y icptescated aad thoroa^j befieired. 
kismmek aorc spvuaal^ icailfr* aa^ Mlewm lAaa Or-- 
tkadaanf^ aad theiefate oa^ to be iess^ baUe to this 
char^.^ ^ We are ashaiwd of this apofeej far aa 
Arti a n t of Hr. Gaaaecrs adourable dtscouise. k is 
aa oBeaece.*^ "- As the senwa will dwbtiess be 
pdnted^ we hope evenr ooie who caa, wiH jad^ far 
Wrog lf wfaac aad how ^>ood ace its cooteac^^ 

Yet this aermoB w^s aoc publi&iieiL Whj k wasaoc, 
we ace anabk to :Hace. ^ub6e<{iKnc eweac» aroold seeia 
to bniicace. chac a deteoce of UnitamnirfflT, tiroui the 
oolpit aad the pcessy oa a aew ^Touiidr aad pcobabU 
the IsBC oa wfakh k will be amenpofd to dieteiid ic, 
wkhooc expce»i7 daajiae the iospiraooa or the 
ScripCHKS^ sjuaiii he aaafe by « moK espeneaced 




tampion. And it has been made in the discoarse 
flow uniier review. 

From the facts which have been detailed, and from 
the standing of Dr. Channing among Unitarians, we 
fwoclude that we are to regard this discourse as ex- 
hibiting the argument from moral tendenc)', on the 
Unitarian side of the question, as forcibly as we are 
to expect it to be exhibited. This conclusion seems 
to be fully warranted by the remarks of Unitarians 
in relation to the discourse. A correspondent of the 
Christian Register, writing from New York, said, 
"The discourse was one of Dr. Channing's happiest 
«nd most powerful efforts ; and, though expectation 
r'had been raised to the highest, it was fully realized." 
Referring to the eighth head of the discourse, he 
says, " It was under this head that the preacher laid 
out bis whole strength, and the effect was astonishing. 
There were statements here given, which will thrill 
in the bosoms of many who heard them to the last 
day of their lives. I can give you no just idea of 
them, and I will not attempt it."* The Christian 
Inquirer, the religious newspaper of the Unitarians 
published in New York, said of the discourse, " We 
are unable, did our time and limits permit, to express 
in sufficiently strong terms, our admiration of this 
profound and manly exhibition of the sentiments of 
Unitarians, and we are persuaded no one, who listen- 
ed to the discourse with attention, but must acknow- 
ledge that, for clearness and strength of reasoning, it 
has been seldom exceeded by any sermon which has 
been delivered in our pulpits. .Several of the argu- 
ments in favor of the unity of God were new and 
origioai, and the illustrations of the petmcVowa 

'Cbri$iian Jtcg-isler of Dec. 10, 18^6. 



I 



\e<^ 




dcDcy of Trinitarianisin were unanswerably clear and 
forcible."* The Christian Examiner for November 
and December, 1826, aays, p. 519, " Of the sermon 
it is difficult to speak in measured terms of approba- 
tion- It has been pronounced the noblest production 
of the very pure and original mind ivbicb composed 
it, and was delivered with an effect which will never 
be forgotten by those who heard it," And in a re- 
view of the discourse in the Examiner for January 
and February, 1827, it is said, " To a mind not pre- 
judiced by education and habits of life, not pledged 
to any system, nor bound to it by ties of interest, the 
force and clearness of reasoning with which the po- 
sition of the sermon is maiutained, must be irresisti- 
ble- Of this fact we venture to say that there will 
be decisive proof. The sermon may be attacked, 
complained of, criticised, perhaps reviled ; men may 
shut their eyes to it ; they may refrain from reading 
it, regarding it as a matter of conscience to keep 
themselves in error, or, having read it, they may ex- 
clude it from their thoughts ; but it will not be an- 
swered. There will be, we think, no attempt to an- 
swer it, except, perhaps, by some one incapable of es- 
timating, either his own powers, or the force of 
argument." A discourse of which all this has been 
said, and which was composed and delivered and 
published in the circumstances that have been detail- 
ed, will be expected by the community to receive a 
careful examination. 

It is not our purpose in this review to enter upon 
L^ discussion of the main quesiion, which of the two 
Kystems, the Unitarian or the Orthodox, is of superior 



18 

teDdency to fbrm aa elevated religious character. 
The investigation of this topic, requirbg an extended 
exposition of the principles of moral government and 
of free agency, will be reserved for a future publication. 
In this pamphlet we shall invite the attention of the 
christian public only to a few general remarks on the 
discourse of Dr. Channing. 

The text is Mark xii. 29, 30, ^^ And Jesus answer- 
ed him, The first of all the commandments is. Hear, 
O Israel ; the Lord our God is one Lord ; and thou 
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and 
with aU thy soul, jand with all thy mind, and with all 
thy strength. This is the first commandment." The 
object proposed by the author is, ^^ to show the supe- 
rior tendency of Unitarianism to form an elevated 
religious character," and in this way, as '^ the chief 
purpose of Christianity undoubtedly is to promote 
piety," to '^ contribute no weak argument in support 
of the truth of" Unitarian " views." The subject 
was appropriate to the occasion. The discourse is 
evidently the result of much and anxious thought. 
And the style is animated throughout, and in some 
places beautiful. But here our commendation must 
end. Our subsequent remarks upon the discourse, a 
regard to truth, and the eternal interests of men, re- 
quires to be of a different character. And, 

I. The temper manifested in the discourse is 
exceedingly to be regretted, as one which by 
no means adorns the doctrine of god our 
Saviour, and is especially to be deprecated in 
MINISTERS OF THE GOSPEL. There are some in- 
stances of a mode of speaking of the opinions and 
character of Orthodox professors o{ C Wvs\!\aL\v\\.^ ^ 





f which are, in our view, utterly inconsistent even with 
that courtesy which should regulate civilized inter- 
\ course when there is no reference to sacred subjects, 
^and which is calculated to produce the same effect oa 
many minds as was formerly produced by the sneers 
and scoffs of infidels. We are grieved to make these 
statements respecting any production of a clergyman 

I of the standing of the author of this discourse, but 
Justice requires us not to withhold them. 
, In the iutroduction to the discourse the author 
jteys, 
U " This doctrine," LTnitarianisin, " w considered by some ni the 
Itut and most perfect invention of Satan, the conmmmation of hit 
blfuphemies, the most cunning weapon ever forged in the frea of 
hell." " To us tllis doctrine sceins not lo have steamed up from 
hell" 

Of the sentiments of the Orthodox he has suffered 
himself to speak as follows : 

" This system," Trinitarianism, " « a relapse into the error of 

Hie rudest and earliest ages, into the worship of a corporeal God, 

Its leading feature is... .a doctrine which, in eartkltnets, reminds 

us of the mythology of the rudest pagans ; and which a pious Jew 

in the twilight of the Mosaic religion, would have shrunk from 

fith horror." p- IT- " Trinitarianism is a riddle." " One God 

■jRiDsisling of three persons. ...is so misty, so incongruous, so con- 

tdictory" " Such a being is certainly the most puzzling and 

miiifracting object ever presented to liuman thought. Trinilarian- 

, ..offers to liie mind a monstrous compound of hostile attri- 

Whites, beartTig plain marks of those ages of darkness, when Chris- 

J titmity shed but a faint my, and the diseased fancy teamed with 

\frodigies and unnatural creations." pp. 22, 23. " A system 

T (rf* the universe," such as he had alleged Trinitarianism involves 

[ ind demands, "'raust be wUd, and extravagant, and unworthy 

[ tt« perfect God." p. 26. " For ourselves, we look with horror 

\ and ^rief on the views of Cod's govenunent, wiiicb are naturally 



15 

and intimately united with Trinitarianism. They take from us 
our Father in heaven, and stAsiitute a stem and uryust LordJ" 
" Urge not upon us a system which makes existence a curse and 
tmraps the universe ingloomJ^ p. 27. '* Trinitarianism".... is " a 
melancholy systemJ*^ " It is a narrow^ technical^ artificial systemj 
the fabrication of unrefined ages.^^ p. 33. Man '^ oioes no aUe- 
giance to such a Maker^^ as he had charged Trinitarianism with 
representing Jehovah to be, '^ and cannot^ of course^ contract the 
guilt of violating itJ*^ '^ The severity of this system pkuxs him^^ 
man, *' on the ground of an itgured being. The wrong lies on 
the side of the Creator J^ p. 41. " Did I believe what Trinita- 
rianism teaches....! should feel myself living under a legislation 
unspeakably dreadful^ under laws written like Draco* s^ in blood } 
and instead of thanking the sovereign for providing an infinite 
substitute, I should shudder at the attributes which render this 
expedient necessary." '^ He who framed all souls and gave 
them their susceptibilities, ought not to be thought so wanting in 
goodness and wisdom^ as to have constituted a universe which 
demands so dreadfid and degrading a method of enforcing obe- 
dience as the penal sufferings of a Grod." p. 44. In another 
place he compares the Orthodox doctrine of the crucifixion of 
Christ as a propitiation for the sins of the world, to the execution 
of an Infinite Being, a partaker of supreme divinity upon " a gal" 
lows erected in the centre of the universe ;" and then says, in 
reference to the teacher whom he supposes to announce such a 
transaction, which Dr. Channing pronounces less " ignominious,^ 
than that presented by the Orthodox doctrine of atonement, 
'* Would 3rou not tell him that he calumniated his Maker 9 
Would you not say to him, that this central gallows threw gloom 
over the universe ; and that the spirit of a government, whose 
very acts of pardon were written in such blood, was terror, not 
paternal love; and that the obedience, which needed to be 
upheld by this horrid spectacle, was nothing worth ? " Would 
you not say to him....that the angels, those pure flames of 
love, need not the gallows and an executed God to confirm 
their loyalty ?" p. 45. Again, he represents the Trinitarian as 
^* compelled to defend his faith by the plea,....that God \s \\qtv- 
oared by our nceptioa of wheU shocks the inteUect.^^ kcvdiVve 




» 



adds, " ^Vtniiariaiusni, is we bare seen, Enks itselT iridi a 
d^fradii^ nrtvs ; and its most miunl sUiance is whb < 
timi erwtlfaalh, iMcJk tirifpi^ Gad afrnmy mad mm ffpawa; 
imwttd* OmMMakyeM imtbmmeMtif tortmn to the hmd, ami 
mk ttftit tf damAl or aeoni la hardier jptritr. t repeit k, a 
dpc ti ioe wfaicfa nohies naam fike ik Ttmty, p re p a m in a^ 
MoMnio proponioo » k b incocfioniediiao^iDiBd,_^« 
nrf Mne AAmmw*. h indb dmni Ik ^MMAMt hJ iwrin J 
friJ* aadfalMdkwtd. hfmles arfuMM^ mttjbr^w- 1 

«W *Mii a^erifaMwi.* p. M. 

We wish siDcerelr, that fidelity ia the work we 
bare uodertaken would permit us here to end < 
^IDoaiioQS under thb bead of remark. But the ua- 
pkssaM task is not vet cocDpleted. It is not oqIt of 
Ae sratimeots of the Orthodox, thai the aufbor of 
tbe discourse has suffered himself to speak in a mas- 
■er so reprehensible. He has said thin^ not less 
sevete of tbeir intellectual aad reti^toos characters. 
HahMl iaderd remarked, pp. 10, IS, " The object 
of this discooffse requires me to speak with sreai tree- 
don, of diSereot ^vsiems of relisioci. But lei me 
BOC be nusmider^ood. Let not the UDcharitableoess 
wMA I c o ilf ■, be tigfatlj laid lo 117 charge. Let 
jtheMwhrinit ifctf S^emk mk/^ sif^ewu^ mt 
^Am* i«U tmirmtt tktm. !■ aectii^ fbcth with aM 
mmfSaiy wfaai mem id ms tke eood or bad xtade^ 
des of Jociriaei, / Aape mat « tkameks tf yiw^y 
jgoaArAor MeBBmlywAtirt to estmole 2ie mff«e 
«r fire ^ Aeir fnfssaan.*' >* I shafl speak freehr, 
Mid MOM muy saj sevcidj, of TrioitanuusaB : b«t I 
iDve aad hsMoar aoca few of its adrocaies; and is 
i dK* ^eir eirar, / msU, «• •• 
B« these rcao- 



17 

lutions seem to have been forgotten in the progress of 
the discourse, and he has suffered himself to speak 
^^ of those who embrace" the Orthodox system, as 
follows : 

''I see indeed superior minds, and great minds, among the ad* 
vocates of the prevalent system ; but they seem to me to move in 
chains f and to ftdjU poorly their high function of adding to the 
wealth of the human intellect. In theological discussion, they re- 
mind me more of Sampson grinding in the narrow mill of the 
PhUisttnes, than of that undaunted champion achieving victories 
for (rod's people, and enlarging the bounds of their inheritance.** 
"It," the system of Trinitarians, "lends to generate and nour- 
ish a religion of a hwy dtdl^ melancholy toncy such, 1 apprehend^ 
as now predominates in the christian world.^^ " Multitudes," 
meaning Trinitarians, " seem to prize pardon more than piety, 
and think it a greater boon to escape, through Chrises sufferings, 
thejire of hell, than to receive, through his influence, the spirit of 
heaven, the spirit of devotion.^^ pp. 34, 37. 

Of such language, in reference to any class of per- 
sons of respectable standing in the community, we 
hesitate not to say, — and we know we shall have the 
concurrence of every dispassionate reader in the asser- 
tion, — that there can be no justification or palliation. 
What then shall be thought of its being used, as it is 
by Dr. Channing, of a class . ^ men, not a few of 
whom, he has acknowledged, deserve from him hon- 
our and love ; many of whom have been the bene- 
fiaictors of the world ; of a class of men which em- 
braced the great body of our venerated Fathers ? Is 
it said, that some Orthodox writers have employed 
expressions equally severe in reference to the senti- 
ments and characters of Unitarians ? And what if 
they have ? Is their offence any justification or pallia- 
tion of the same conduct in one, by whom they have 
been uniform]/ and pointedly condemned ? 

3 



I 







I 



I 



n. The hooe of reasoning employed in trv ' 

DISCOURSE, AS RESPECTS BOTH THE " SUPPORT OF 
IHE TRUTH of" UNITARIAN " VIEWS," AND THE 
SHOWING OF " THE SUPERIOR TENDENCY" OF UNITA- 
RtANlSM " TO FORM AN ELEVATED RELIG.OUS CHAR- 
ACTER," 13 OBJECTIONABLE, 

The ullimalc object of the discourse is to furnisb 
proof of the (rulli of Uiiitariaiiism. And the proof 
furnished is, the alleged superior tendency of Unita- 
rianisin, to form an elevated religious character, wiih- 
out any reference to (he testimony of Scripture. 
This alleged superior tendency of Unilarianism is not, 
it is true, advanced as the only proof, but as " no 
weak argument, in support of the truth of " Unitarian 
"views." Nor is it admitted that Unilarianism is 
not supported by the testimony of Scripture, but 
claimed that it " is in harmony witli the great and 
clear principles of revelation." p. -19. But la the 
argument in support of Its truth to be furnished in this 
discourse, reference to " scriptural authorities" is ex- 
pressly disclaimed, p. 9. 

Now we do not question the right of an author 
to employ whatever mode of argument he pleases, ia 
attempting to establish the truth of his opinions. Nor 
will any one question, that every reader has an equal 
right to judge, whether the mode iie has employed 
was judiciously chosen. And we must say that, in 
our view, the mode of reasoning employed in this dis- 
course ill proof of the truth of UnitariaDism is far 
from being satisfactory. The Bible, all Protestant 
denominations agree, is Uie only ultimate standard of 
religious doctrine. " To the law and to the teslimo- 
ny ; if thty speak not according to this word, it is 



• 19 

hecause there is no light in them.^^ With consistent 
Protestants, an argument for the truth of a religious 
system which contains no reference to Scripture, can 
be of little weight. 

What if a plausible, and an apparently conclusive 
argument should be framed, in favour of certain reli- 
gious doctrines, as eminently calculated to produce 
honourable views of God, and from this it should be 
inferred that those doctrines are true, while they are 
contradicted by the plain testimony of Scripture ; 
would the argument be of any avail ? Suppose a 
person should state, as a part of his religious creed, 
that there is no sin or suffering in the universe ; and 
should then attempt to show, that these opinions have 
a ^* superior tendency to form an elevated religious 
character ;'^ and suppose he should reason in some 
such manner as the following : Mt is derogatory to 
the paternal character of God, and wholly inconsistent 
v^th his infinite benevolence, to suppose that he can 
have permitted any of his intelligent creatures to sin, 
and by sinning to incur suffering. He who made 
the mind, and has access to it at all times, is cer- 
tainly able to prevent so unhappy an event ; and if he 
is able to prevent it, will not his unbounded goodness 
secure its prevention ? If you say, the permission of 
sin, and the consequent infliction of suffering were 
necessary to exhibit fully the divine character, and 
form his intelligent creatures to the highest degree of 
moral excellence and of happiness, or could not have 
been prevented without interfering with human free- 
dom, you limit the perfections and degrade the char- 
acter of the Infinite One. Will an earthly parent 
{>ermit his child to commit a fault, and \>y comm\x<\ik^ 



expo- H 

, pre- ■ 



it incur suffering, when he foresees the child's 
sure to temptation, and can, with perfect ease, 
vent his transgression. And is our Father in heavea 
less solicitous for the purily and happiness of his 
cliildren, than earthly parents are for the virtue and 
happiness of iheir offspring ? The system I advocate 
asserts " the unconquerable love" of Jehovah " the 
absolute and unbounded perfection of God's charac- 
ter," while that I oppose limits the divine f;;oodness, 
and " degrades the character of ihe Supreme Being." 
My system must, therefore, promote a more fervent 
and enlighiened piety. 

' Or, lo present the argument in a still more con- 
vincing light, Uiiilarians of the present day allrge, 
that their system produces more honourable views of 
God than that of the Orthodox, because the latter 
hold to entire moral depravity and eternal punishment, 
while Unitarianism teaches, that men are only par- 
tially depraved, and if they die without repentance, 
will, at most, suffer only a limited punishment. The 
force of this reasoning I admit ; and, on the same, 
principles, 1 contend that my system must produce 
more honourable views of God than even Unitarian- 
ism ; for the Unitarian maintains, that God is only so 
benevolent, as not to suffer men to become entirely 
depraved, and incur eternal misery ; but I mainlain, 
that so unlimited is the benevolence of God, that it 
prevents men from becoming sinful at all, and from 
incurring the least degree of suffering. Who does not 
see that ray system asserts far more strongly " the 
unconquerable love, the absolute and unbounded per- 
fectiou" of the Divine Being, and thus lends to pro- 
duce far more honourable views of God. I conclude, 



21 

therefore, thtit aot only Orthodoxy, but also Unitari- 
anism, is false, and my system is true.' 

But would it, therefore, be true ? And of what 
avail would all this reasoning, so plausible^ and, as 
seems to us, on Unitarian priuciples, so unanswerable, 
be, while we read in our Bibles, " All have sinned, 
and come short of the glory of God ;" and, " Man is 
born unto trouble as the sparks fly upward ^^? So 
Dr. Cbanning may, by a course of plausible reason- 
ing, in favor of the superior tendency of Unitarian- 
ism to promote '*• generous conceptions of the Divin- 
ity," furnish, what he calls, '' no weak argument in 
support of its truth ;" and hence conclude, that* the 
Son of God is not truly divine, that he did not, by 
his death, make an atoning sacrifice for sin, that un- 
renewed men are not entirely sinful, and that there is 
no eternal punishment. But, while we hear Isaiah 
saying, '^ I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne high 
and lifted up, and his train filled the temple ; above 
it stood the seraphim ; and one cried unto another, 
attd said, Holy, holy, holy, is Jehovah of hosts," and 
find the evangelist John declaring, ^' These things 
said Esaias, when he saw his,'^ Christ's, *^ glory, and 
spake of him ;"* while we find the sacred writers as- 
serting, that '^ the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity 
of us all, and with his stripes we are healed, "f ^^ he 
is the propitiation," or propitiatory sacrifice, '^ for our 
sins, and for the sins of the whole world,"]: ^^ be ap- 
peared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself ;"^ 
that ^' by nature all are dead in trespasses and sins, 

* Isasah, vi. 1 — 3. John xii. 41. The Terse which John quotes from 
ba. Tu is Uie 10th, but this is a part of the account which begins ver^e 
1st of this remarkable vision. 

f Isa. liu. 6, 5. 1 1 John, ii. 2. § Heb. ix. 26. 




and children of wrath ;"* that the wicked shall be 
" cast into hell, where their worm dieth not, and the 
fire is not quenched ;"t and the sin against the Holy 
Ghost " shall not be forgiven, neither in this world 
neither in the world to come ;"t while we read 
these and numerous other similar passages in our 
Bibles, and while neither Dr. Channing nor any of 
bis brethren, has proved that they do not teach the 
doctrines just named, of what avail is all his reasoning 
as furnishing proof of the truth of Unitarianism? 

To the reasoning by which it is attempted in the 
discourse to " show the superior tendency of Unita- 
rianism to form an elevated religious character," we 
object, that it is wholly theoretical, containing not a 
single reference to facts in its support. This might, 
perhaps, have passed for sound argument before the 
days of Bacon. But, happily, theory unsustained by 
facts, will no longer satisfy any minds but those of 
mere partizans, who have resigned the privilege of 
thinking for themselves to some oracle, whose senti- 
ments they implicitly adopt, because they are his. 
But, if we do not very much mistake the character 
of this community, they will not do this, even to the 
author of this discourse, much as he is respected 
for talents and learning and sobriety. They will 
think for (hemseives. They will ask. What are the 
facts, in a case so preeminently one to be settled, if 
satisfactorily determined, by an appeal to facts ?^ 

And what are the facts in the case .'' The answer i 

•Elib.ii. 1— a. fMark il. 47, 48. J Mat. xu. 32. 

J The qupslian or [lie comparslive moral elBcac; of tbe tiro sjr 
wt lirieny, liul «bly, discuBsed in Dr. Beccher's sermoD al Wo— 
mdJ in Ilia repl; lo llie review or Iho sermon which ap< 
Chrifllian Examiner; both of which, logfelher wilh Ih" 
bo read by every one who would undera^ 




2S 

shall be given chiefly by the opposers of Orthodox 
opinions. In the article on Predestination, in the 
British Encyclopedia, written, it is said, by Robert 
Forsyth, Esq., a learned civilian and an infidel, after 
an account of the Calvinistic and Arminian systems, 
to the latter of which the preference is given, it is 
said, ^^ There is one remark which we think our- 
selves in justice liound to make. It is this ; that, 
from the earliest ages down to our own days, if we 
consider the character of the ancient Stoics, the Jew- 
ish Essenes, the modern CalvinistSj and Jansenists, 
compared with that of their antagonists, the Epicuri- 
ans, the Sadducees, the Arminians, and the Jesuits, 
we shall find that they have excelled^ in no small 
degree J in the practice of the most rigid and respect- 
able virtues ; and have been the highest honor to their 
own age^ and the best models for imitation to every 
succeeding age.^^ 

In the Edinburgh Review, whose decided partiality, 
for many years, to infidel opinions is well known, we 
find the following remarks : " What are we to think 
«f the morality of Calvinistic nations, especially the 
most numerous of them ; who seem, beyond all oth- 
er men, to be most zealously attached to their reli- 
gion, and most deeply penetrated with its spirit? 
Here, if any where, we have a practical and decisive 
test of the moral influence of a belief in necessariaa 
opinions. In Protestant Switzerland, in Holland, iu 
Scotland, among the English Nonconformbts, and 
the Protestants of the north of Ireland, and iu the 
Vew England states, Calvinism was long the pte^ 
fiuth,and is probably stiU the faith of ^ ^^ 
lajorit/. Their moral educaxvoiv ^.^ 




» 



least completed, and their collectire character fbnned, 
during ihe prefalente of Calvinistic opinions. Yet, 
when^ are rominiiailies to be found of a more pure 
■■d Active virtue ?"• 

Of UnilamDS compared with the Orthodox in 
England, Or. Priestley, the father of modern Unitari* 
anism, said forty years a«o, " Though Uuitariau dis- 
senters are not apt to entertain any doubt of the truth 
of (heir principles, they do not lay so much stress 
opon them as other Christians do upon iheirs. Nor, 
indeed, is there any reason why they should, when 
they do not consider the hotdin:; of them to lie at all 
necessary to salvation, which other Christians often do 
with respect to theirs. They, therefore, take much 
less pains to make proselytes, and are less concerned 
to inculcate their principles upon thpir children, their 
servants, and iheir dependants in general. Besides, 
it cannot be denied, that many of those who judge so 
truly concerning particular tenets of religion, have at- 
tained to that cool, unbiassed temper of mind, in 
consequence of becoming more indifferent to religion 
io general, and to all the modes and doctrini;s of it. 
Though, therefore, they are in a more favorable situ- 
ation for distinguishing between truth and falsehood, 
they are nor likely to acquire a zeal for what they 
conceive to be the truth. Consequently, when they 
are satified with res[>eci to any controverted question, 
concerning which thpy may have had ihe curiosity to 
make some inquiry, they presently dismiss the sub- 
ject from their thoughts ; and thus, never reading or 
I thinking about it, except when it is casually mentioo- 
■ ed, they are not in the way of being interested in it. 



• EJinljurg'h Rtvuiw, vol. ssivi. jj. 2S7. 



25 

and cannot be expected to make any great sacrifices 
to it. From this principle it is, that great num- 
bers becoming Unitarians in the Church of England, 
and even among the clergy, do not feel the impro- 
priety and absurdity, to say nothing more harsh, of 
continuing to countenance a mode of worship, which, 
if they were questioned about it, they could not deny 
to be, according to their own principles, idolatrous and 
blasphemous. Such persons also, having no zeal for 
speculative religion, merely because they have no 
zeal for religion in general, their mbral conduct, 
though decent, is not what is deemed strict and ex- 
emplary."* To the use we make of this testimony 
of Dr. Priestley it has been objected that, in the dis- 
course from which it is taken, the Doctor states it as 
his opinion on the whole, that the Unitarians as a 
body are not less religious than other Christians. 
This is true ; and the reader shall see how it is stated. 
" Upon the whole," says Dr. Priestley, " considering 
the great mixture of spiritual pride and bigotry in 
some of the most zealous Trinitarians, I think the 
moral character of the Unitarians in general, allowing 
that there is in them a greater apparent conformity 
to the world than is observable in the others^ ap- 
proaches more nearly to the proper temper of Chris- 
tianity. It is more cheerful, more benevolent, and 
more candid. The former have probably less, and 
the latter, I hope, something more, of a real princi- 
ple of religion than they seem to have, '^f Among 
Unitarians in England at the present day, Dr« C ban- 
ning admits, in the note to his sermon at the ordina- 

* DiSGOTirses on rarions siibjects, published in 1787, English edit, 
pp. 95, 96. t Discourses, p. 100. 

4 



'2G 



tloit III Mr. (lunimtt, p. 30, that there is a want of 
** (hin Inrvor" in roli{;ioii, and employs a page in at- 
l0mplinK to lUicoiint for the fact. 

Hill it iN tiuin to turn our attention to Uoitarian- 
Uni tMiuipiirml willi Orthodoxy, as they now exist in 
ihU rnuntry. 

AuHMiK the proper tests of the fervor of piety 
nitUtiuM; iinuuiK '^ ptH)plu, wo suppose all will admit, 
ihHt nllondiimu) upon public worship, and the degree 
of t^nKiiKiHlnovN nnd »eul with which ministers dis- 
i'hMrKt> \\w\t tippropriato duties, are to have a promi- 
iit^nl pl(U't^% In n luimphlety published some time 
nluris i^nlilltHl '^ SnunUh Preaching,'' said to have 
Ihh^u wriltt^u l>Y tht^ niinislor of the Unitarian congre- 
IIHIUmi (n rhiirU^»lown% it is declared to be a matter 
\v|' m^t^uiHv^ ^^ which nono will question/' that Or- 
tli\H^^v pi'iHiohu^t i^ mm'h hhhv nuoH^rously attended 
^li<iii Tuiumiu AihI ^ wriii^r in the Christian Re- 
)i[Vxivv %^f J<^M% 1;^ l^« 7% o^vr the ^a^nii;ftnii^ ^ LaTnum 
xlMMhMTv'' ^tK'^x?^ ^* ^V>^ qw^iHHis can he more intnot- 

l^« ^i^^KK^Wv U^ t^^r^r^ 4^ii5i\\vn\l. * why the I' 
^^^\^ K^^^"^ hK^ i^m ^^\h^ ih^ tifNjil wf the C 

>\V^^<^^^ V x^.¥.t ^^iM I^W >fc^^ :tk> 'Uw'^f fi 

,^- ^\*^ .W >»v^Nm^ v^v\>^>. ** ;^ )(v<^e<tve ^^ Jijgifc, *;^ 
V >^\> V \>K >.v^^ o^ K »Nvv viNWftiuw v'luit Tiuc lie 
vvM'^v H^ ■• **i"sv >annsv vK>*i ^MiNKV% It 'truirvins^ 




27 

as to the mercury which is to tell us the warmth of 
religious fervor in the community." 

In the Christian Examiner for March and April, 
1826, appeared an article, understood to have been 
written bj the junior minister of King's Chapel, Bos- 
ton, which professes to give an accurate account of 
^< Unitarian resources." Before quoting from this 
account, it is necessary to remind the reader not 
already acquainted with the facts, that according to 
the statements of Unitarians, they have about an hun- 
dred religious societies in Massachusetts, of which 
twelve are in Boston, which is double, and was, till 
within little more than a year, treble the number of 
Orthodox Congregational societies in the city ; and 
in these Unitarian congregations is found probably 
four fifths of the wealth in that metropolis. The 
account contains the following statements. In a few 
Unitarians there is a good degree of ^^ engagedness," 
and to their ^^ exertions, under Providence, the pro- 
gress of simple Christianity is mainly indebted," for 
they *^ are not sparing of their time, nor their means, 
in promoting those plans of improvement and benevo- 
lence which are laid before the Unitarian public." 
But of Unitarians as a body this cannot be said. 
Their " country societies, in general, are" little 
more than nominally Unitarian, and almost entirely 
destitute of zeal ; and their ministers are ^^ surround- 
ed by" so much " timidity," that they " often grow 
timid themselves ; keep to one style of preaching 
and one round of subjects, and neither excite nor are 
excited to inquiry, decision, and exertion. Much of 
this is also true of the Unitarian societies in Boston* 
I can remember the time, and I am uol o\d) viV^Ut 




though Boston was full of Unitarian sentiment and 

feeling, ihi-re was no open profession of it. A dead 
silence was maicilainetl in the pul(iit on doctrinal sub- 
jects, — a silence which was no! disturbed by the 
press. Then came the Unitarian controversy ; and 
people read it for a while, and a iVw of the ministers 
ventured to preach, at intervals, on the sirict unity 
of God, and converts were made, and eitrhi or nine 
of our churctie;£ were content to go on under the de- 
signation of Unitarian churches, though uiany and 
loud were the protests agriinst the name. But the 
name was taken with tolerable uuaiiiiiiiiy ; the utter 
dismission of Orthotiox doctrines from ibe pulpits fol- 
lowed, and the ministers were permitted to preach 
the plain morality of the Gospel. This would have 
been very well, if they had been permitted to preach 
any thing else ; but they were nut. People were 
tired of the controversy ; some, because they thought 
iliey were completely masters of it, and some, be- 
cause they never liked it. They were called Unita- 
rians, and that was enough." And even " now," 
" [he old silence is maintained i" and " the people, 
ihoneh satisfied with ministers of the Unitarian per- 
suasion, and resolved to have no other, are generally 
unwilling to hear Unitariaoism explained or defended, 
and arc therefore not interested in it, nor well versed 
in its principles ;" and " when a purpose, strictly 
Unitarian, is to be accomplished, they, into whose 
hands it is committed, know full well, that the inter- 
est in Unitarianism, as such, is small iudeed, aad 
that its resources are soon exhausted."* Let us 



29 

aow hear the testimoDj of another Unitarian, of au« 
thority not less worthy of confidence — the author of 
the Review of Dr. Beecher's sermon at Worcester, in 
reference to the Orthodox. ^* f n thus speaking of the 
Hioral efficacy of the two rival systems, it is a plea* 
snre to us, now and always, to acknowledge the good 
qualities which recommend our opponents, — their un- 
questionable sincerity as a body, their laudable zeal 
in promoting many of the benevolent undertakings 
that distinguish this age, their endeavours to excite a 
spirit of greater seriousness and consideration among 
the people, and to stem the torrent of vice that is for 
ever setting in upon a thoughtless world." p. 34. 

In accordaiKe with the preceding testimony, we 
have been informed, that in his discourse at the dedi* 
cation of the theological hall at Cambridge, last Au- 
gust, Dr. Channing asserted, that in point of fact, 
the Unitarians are, as a body, exceedingly deficient 
in seal. And at the commencement of a vigorous 
effort lately made, in the numerous and wealthy Uni- 
tarian congregations in Boston, to raise sufficient 
funds for the establishment of a Unitarian mission in 
the East, which eflbrt did not wholly succeed, the 
same gentleman was understood to say, that ^ he fear- 
ed there was not piety enough among the Unitarians 
in Boston to establish and support a foreign mission, 

fairness to mention, is denied bj this writer, and another cause of the facts 
be bad stated aisi|^ed. Things are, be says, as be bad stated, not be« 
cause ^ Unitarianism is essentially cold,'' '' but because it is not heartily 
and intelligenUy embraced by one half of their societies,'' in general, 
** Bor by one third of the members of the other half;" and in Boston, 
the membera of Unitarian congregations, with a few exceptions, are 
» called Coitarians, and that is" with them ^ enoogfa." Boston has been 
^ full of Unitarian sentiment and feeling" for more than tweWe years ; 
and the result is, that the members of Unitarian societiee in that city, 
are, wiUi a few exceptions, contented to be •« oalUd Unitaxvviv «&Al 
that Is" with them «« enoo^ /" 




though he hoped there would be soou, as he thougbt 
they were improving in piety.' But in tlie few 
Othodox Congregational societies in that city, which 
contain not many persons of great wealth, more than 
;S50,000 have been contributed to the single object of 
Foreign missions during the last fifteen years.* 

Such, if the testimony of opposcrs of Orthodoxy, 
most of tliem Unitarians, may be relied on, are the 
facts in the case. And yet Dr. Chauning would 
persuade us, by a train of abstract reasoning, that 
Unitarianism has " a superior tendency to form aa 
elevated religious character." 

III. The discourse contains several in- 
stances OF misrepresentation. Indeed the re- 
presentation given of the doctrines of Orthodoxy is, 
in general, so incorrect, that the person who should 
derive his views of the religious sentiments held by 
the Orthodox as a body from the statements of Dr. 
Channing, would be utterly misled, and would pro- 
bably not attribute to them a single doctrine to which, 
as represented, they would assent. In justification 
of these remarks we will quote Dr Channing's state- 
ments in relation to some of the more prominent doc- 
trines of Orthodoxy, and compare them with the 
statements in relation to the same doctrines made 
by standard Orthodox writers. 

Page 51, Dr. Channing represents the Orthodox 
as " divorcing reason from religion," and teaching 



in the Bpirit of boaslinf;. When we 
u trit'kfdiiess, of the raillioDs pensliing for lack 
c remenilicr Ihnl we are aCewarda of God, and bound 
hy every ubiigalion to use our properly and iollucQCC as shall moat 
effectually promote his gWy ; when, especially, we look to Calvarj-, and 
see how He, who was rich in all the glory of the Godhead, became poor 
' ' our sakes, wo are ashamed Uiat we have done so little for the exlen- 
n of his kingdom in l)ie world, wo feel that we have been esceed- 
iag-Jy deficient ia gratitude, ai^ devolednebs. and lore. 



31 

^^ the prostration of the understanding as an act of 
piety." If the reader of this review has ever looked 
into Orthodox theological writings, or attended Or* 
thodox preaching, he will at once perceire the entire 
incorrectness of these statements, for he will know 
that the Orthodox are in the constant habit of . em- 
ploying reason in vindicating and illustrating their 
opinions. Some of their standard writers have ex- 
pressed themselves on this topic as follows : ^^ We 
do not question," says the celebrated Francis Turret- 
"^in, one of the successors of Calvin in the profes- 
sorship of theology at Geneva, ^^ we do not question 
the propriety of employing reason in theological dis- 
cussions, for we acknowledge it to be of great use, 
in illustrating divine mysteries by analogies derived 
from human and terrestrial things, in comparing the 
Old Testament with the New, versions with the ori- 
ginals, ancient with modern opinions, and the views 
of theological writers and the decrees of councils with 
the word of God ; in deriving just consequences from 
well established premises ; in defending the truth 
and opposing error. "* Says President Edwards, ^^ Our 
business should doubtless much consist in employing 
those faculties by which we are distinguished from 
the beasts, about those things which are the main 
end of those faculties," the doctrines of religion. And 
this, he adds, should be done by ^^ common people as 
well as divines. "t "It is right," says Andrew Ful- 
ler, ^^ and stands commended in Scripture, to apply 
our hearts to understanding ; but it is wrong, and 
stands condemned in Scripture by the same pen and in 
the same page, to lean to our own understanding. So 

* Theol. Elenot. Loc. 1. Quest. 8. Sect 3. 
t Worfep, £ntAmer, edit vol. riiL pp. 12, 16. 




W" I appirbend it is right to adhere to right reastm^^— 
m by which he had said he meant the fitness of things — 
r *' and to use all means to find out what it is ; but 
it is wrong aud presumptuous to set up ocr reason 
as a standard compeleot to d(M;ide what is truth and 
what is error."* " I admit," says Professor Stuart, 
ID his Letters to Dr. C banning, " as fully as you do 
or caa do, the proper office of reason io the whole 
natter of religion, both io regard to doctrine and 
practice."t 

Dr. Chaiiniiig asserlf, p. 37, that Trinitarian ism* 
" does not make the promotion of piety its chief 
end," but " teaches that the highest purpose of 
Christ's missioQ was to reconcile God to man and 
not man to God ;" which leads those who embrace 
it to " prize pardon more than piety, and (hink it a 
greater boon to escape through Christ's sufferings 
the fires of hell, than receive through his influence 
the spirit of heaven." Very different from this are 
the representations of Trinitarians themselves. '* Ho- 
ly practice," says President Edwards, " is the verv 
IND of the redemption of Christ." " Holy practice 
ig as much the end of all that God does aboct 
Hia SAINTS, as fruit is the end of all the hii^ibandman 
does about the growth of his field or vineyard." f 
'* To what purpose," says Andrew Fuller, " was ihe 
Sou of God manilested in human nature ? Was it 
not that he might destroy the works of the devil ?" 
" Why did he give himself for us ; 1ml that he might 
redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself 
a peculiar people, zealous of good works?" " We 
cannot enter into Ike end of ChrisVs death, which 

• Work*, Amcr. rilil. vol. Tu. p. SS. i Second edit. p. 10. 

/ Works, vol. iv. pp. 3-16, 3*7, ' 



33 

ijoas to make an end of sin^ unless we become dead 
to sm."* ^^The gospel," observes Dr. Vcott^ author 
of the Commentary on the Bible, ^' may be denomi- 
nated a scheme^ formed in God's infinite wisdom and 
love, to restore a fallen creature to holiness^ in con- 
sistency with the rules of the divine govemmenti the 
honor of the divine law, the glory of God's holiness 
and justice, and to the praise of his grace. This is the 
endf and glory , and loveliness of the gospel. Rob 
it of this, and you degrade it into the mir6."t 

Page 41 of the discourse, Trinitarianism is repre- 
sented as teaching, that God is the author of that sin- 
fulness in men for which he accounts them guilty, 
and threatens them with endless punishment. It 
makes God, says Dr. C banning, ^^ a being who 
brings us into existence burdened with hereditary 
guilt, and who threatens with endless punishment and 
wo the heirs of so frail and feeble a nature." ^^ The 
severity of this S3^stem places mau on the ground of 
an injured being. The wrong lies on the side of the 
Creator .^^ Let us now hear the statements of Trin- 
itarians themselves on this point. Calvin, in the 
chapter of his Institutes on original sin, devotes two 
sections to refuting <^ those who dare to charge God 
with their corruptions." *' They err," he says, " in 
seeking for the work of God in their own pollution." 
'^ Our perdition proceeds from the sinfulness of our 
flesh, not from God.^^ ^^ It arises, not from creation, 
but from the corruption of nature, that men, being 
enslaved by sin, can will nothing but what is evil." 
*^ What excuse can he plead, seeing he cannot impute 

♦Works, vol. yiL pp. 388, 373. 

t LeUen and Fapen, BostoD edit 1825, p. 2^1. 



i 




the hardness of his heart to any one but himself^ 
" The condemnation spoken of by Paul," Eph. ii. 3, 
" IS by no means derived from God, but from our 
depraved nature. "t The Synod of Dort, which 
" was a fair representation of the Calvinistic world 
one century after the commencement of the Reform- 
ation," say, " The cause or fault of unbelief, as 
also of all other sins, is by no means in God, but in 
mau."t President Edwards says, " Sin is »io/ the 
fruit of any positive agency or influence of the Most 
High."§ And again, " As Adam's nature became 
corrupt without God's implanting or infusing any 
evil thing into his nature, so docs the nature of his 
posterity. ''II Dr. Bellamy affirms, that " it is in vain 
to pretend that we are not voluntary in our corrup- 
tions, when they are nothing else but the free, spon- 
taneous inrliaations of our own hearts."? And that 
" sinning creatures act freely, and are solely and 
wholly to blame.""* And Dr. Woods has said, 
" The sia which we suppose to belong to man at bis 
first existence, is the act of a rational and accounta- 
ble being ; an act as free and unconstrained as aoy 
which takes place during his whole life."tf 

Again, Dr. Channing asserts, p. 50, that " Cal- 
vinism strips man of power." Calvinistic writers 
have indeed asserted that, " No mere man, since the 
fall, is able, in this life, perfectly to keep the com- 
mandments of God."Jt But inability is of two kinds, 
commonly denominated by theological writers na/t<- 

■« lastiL b. ii. cap. i.mx. 10, and cap, v. see, 1, 5. f CommcDt. ia 
Ef b. iL 3. I Articles of Ibe Sjood of Dgrt, chap. i. art. 5. t Works, 
ToL V. p. 594. Worki, vol. ri. p. 4i\. 1 Worka, vol. i. p. ise! 

•• lb. ToL iL p. 173, H Reply la Dr. Waie'j Letters, &nt ed. p. 83. 

1] Shorter CalMbiso, Bepl} to QuetL 83. 




35 

ral and moral. Natural inability consists in the 
want of requisite faculties, rendering a person unable 
to do the thing referred to if he would ; and to what- 
ever degree it exists, and from whatever cause it may 
arise, excuses its subject from blame. Moral ina- 
bility consists entirely in want of inclination, and 
leaves a person capable of doing the thing referred to 
if he would'; and to whatever degree it exists, and 
from whatever cause it mav arise, furnishes no excuse 
for not doing what is required by a competent au- 
thority, but renders the person blameable and inex- 
cusable for not doing it. Now it is evidently in the 
former of these senses that Dr. Channing meant to 
represent Calvinists as attributing inability to man, 
for he says, p. 41, that their view of this subject ren- 
ders man *' without guilt," in disobeying the com- 
mands of God. But is this representation just ? 
We admit that expressions have been inconsiderately 
used, and statements of the doctrine of depravity in- 
cautiously made, by some Calvinists, which, taken by 
themselves, might seem to furnish ground for such a 
representation. But these very persons would, in 
most cases, reject such an inference from the language 
they have employed. And most Calvinistic writers 
of authority have expressly disavowed the sentiment 
attributed to them by Dr. Channing. The Synod of 
Dort ascribe man's inability to believe in Christ and 
obey the law of God entirely to his heart and will.* 
The authors of the Shorter Catechism, when stating 
their views more fully than in the passage quoted 
above^ say. By our ^^ original corruption/' or depra- 
vity, ^^ we are utterly indisposed, disabled, and made 

*ArticleBi chap. 3 and 4. 




opposite to all good, and wfaoliy inclined to all evil. 
These different phrases were clearly intended to be ex- 
planatory of each other, and show thai, in the opinion 
of tltc Westminster divines, fallen man is " disabled 
and made opposite to all good," by being, " utterly 
indisposed" to good, and wholly " inclined to evil." 
Calvin says, " Man does evil voluntarily, and not by 
constrainl."t Turrettin asserts, that " Maa does not 
sin by a natural, hut liy a moral necessity, arising 
from an evil disposition."! Presideut Edwards 
maintains, in his treatise od the Will, that the ina- 
bility to obey the law of God which Catvinisis at- 
tribute to men, is not natural, hut moral, consisting 
entirely " in the want of inclination."^ Dr. Bellamy 
says, " As to natural capacity, all mankind are ea- 
pable of a perfect confonntly to God's law; and all 
our inability arises merely from the bad temper of 
our hearts, and our want of a good, disposition ; 
and therefore we are wholly to blame. Our irapo- 
tency, in one word, is not natural, but moral ; and 
therefore, instead of extenuating, does magnify and 
enhance our fault."|| Andrew Fuller contends, in his 
" Gospe_l Worthy of all Acceptation," that " the in- 
ability of sinners to do things spiritually good, does 
not consist in the want of rational faculties or exter- 
nal advantages, hut is owing to want of inclination, 
and lo nothing else."! " President Dwight says, 
" The nature of man's inability to obey the law of 
God is, in my view, completely indicated by the 
word indisposition, or the word disinclination.^^** 

• WeitoiiDBter Confctiion of Faith, chap. vi. sect, 4, 

f lostit b. ii. Cap. ii. eect. vii. J TheoU Elenct. Lac. x. Quest. 3. 

^ S«e parlicularly Pari I. »ecr. 4, ami Part Il[. Met. 4. 

HWorki, »ol. i. p. 166. IT Part iu. Works, vol. i. p. 93. 

*'Tbeol Sena. J33. 



37 

And Dr. Woods, in his ** Remarks on Dr. Ware's 
Answer," referring to Dr. Ware's repeated assertions 
that the Orthodox represent man as *'by nature 
wholly incapable of anj good inclination or motion,'^ 
sajs, *^ I did hope, after all that had been written on 
this subject, that Dr. Ware would never again in- 
vest Orthodoxy with such false colors. As to human 
power^ capacity f or ability^ understood in the proper 
sense, our conceptions are at least as high, as those 
of our opponents. Man husj in our view, a capabil^ 
ity or power of doing all that God requires of him. 
His power must, we think, be as extensive as his 
duty. We constantly assert, that the fault of man is 
not want of power to do his duty, but of disposition^ 
or inclination. So that any prejudice which is ex- 
cited against Orthodoxy, in the minds of the learned 
or the vulgar, by such representations as those above 
mentioned, is excited at the expense of candor and 
truth."* 

Again^ the Orthodox are charged in this discourse 
with Tritheism^ or a belief in three Gods. Page 20^ 
the ^^ one of the three persons " in the Godhead^ who^ 
according to Trinitarianism^ ^^ assumed " human na- 
ture, is spoken of as ^^ the God who became man," 
evincing clearly that the word person is used in its 
ordinary sense as applied to men^ indicating a distinct 
being ; thus virtually asserting, that Trinitarians in 
fact believe in three distinct divine beings. And, p. 22, 
the God of Trinitarians is said to ^^ consist of three 
persons or agents ;" and, p. 49, the "three persons who 
constitute the God" of Trinitarianism, are pronounced 
to be ^* three conscious agents, who cannot by any 
human art or meta;physical device, be m^de lo co- 

* Fint edit ^ 20. 



hw Dr. C 

at Bih'—i : ^hI k viB he a 

Woods^ m Iw Leans to U 
ike pout idcfifd to irf^ike 

kis.'' Dr. CI ' ^ s 
<»t other C a j ftw a m oa tkis 
vaiiy #r GW* ** wko wuaiii cxprct to 
ft^ € ta Ut wmun mm ike side mf Qiiiadbiy 
jtmtMNuljr msserted tke mmiif mf Gmd 

mi 




tkai flff 



ot tke i&riBe ckuacter i t wM&tg at 
Who voaid expect id iad tkM ta aff Caafejgiaaj W* 
Faiii «7iliirB Ay TVnuiariami;, t/be aai^ ar Ga^ tf 
a«€ af* fll^ jirsl iaeuimes msurted^ aad ta all tkem 
sffsuwu mf Diwimiiy is mme of tke Jim wkiek is dis^ 
haeiif mmd Im^elf defended f Traij. hit i ttspc i n ed 



have 



k caa be ia ji 

ID 



AadwecoaU 
I 



wkk 
tfaeeziif^arr 



ot Godr ihaa we knre 



dbej inaiitat 



Pase 19 of the Ascoane^ Dr. Cknaiae represeMs 
dbe OitkodcnL wiews of the persoa of Chrst as ^^ coa- 

aad dtviae ptoperties in oae beio^ :*^ 
m'aUliiai he erooads the assertioBf 
y^ 2(ftr that their obpect of wor^ip is ^"^ a corporeal 

God.^ To show the entire incor- 



rf u. 



mm this icpicjaatiifaiii a 

* FiBt cfiL p. 14. 



e qiMHatiQaf to 



S9 

which the Orthodox of every name would subscribe, 
will be sufficient. In the Mediator, say the West^ 
minster divines, ^^ two whole, perfect, and distinct 
natures, the Godhead and the manhood, were insep« 
erably joined together in one person, without conver-^ 
siofif composition^ or conjiision.^^ * 

Page 18, Trinitarians are charged with worship- 
ping the human nature of Christ. They are spoken 
of as ^^ worshippers who adore their God for his 
wounds and tears, his agony, and blood, and sweat." 
And in vindication of this charge, the following pas- 
sage, containing an address to the Son of God, is 
quoted from the Litany of the Episcopal Church : 
^^ By the mystery of thy holy incarnation, by thy 
holy nativity and circumcision, by thy baptism, fast- 
ing, and temptation, by thine agony and bloody 
sweat, by thy cross and passion, good Lord, deliver 
us ! " But how evidently unjust is the representation 
made of the meaning of this passage. The reader 
will at once perceive that it is not, as Dr. Channing 
represents, an expression of adoration to the Son of 
God for his incarnation, as we adore the Father 
for his omniscience ; but that it is a petition to Christ, 
as possessing a divine nature, accompanied with the 
mention of what his mercy has already done for us 
in becoming incarnate and making atonement, as an 
argument or plea for acceptance in the request, as 
when David, in the twenty-fifth Psalm, beseeches 
the Lord to grant his petition, by the remembrance 
of his tender mercies and loving kindnesses, which 
have been ever of old.f As to the charge itself, that 

* Confess, of Faith, chap. yiii. 6 2. 

fTbis IB what is commoDly called ^ pleading with God^ ot ^T^xiYii^ 
our case with bim^ in prayer i ** which," says the QXCQ\leii\.\>T.y^^X\3M 




I 

I 



Trinitarians worship the hutnaa nature of Christ, k 
is entirely incorrect. Their views on this point are 
thus staled by a distinguished writer, to whose repre* 
■cntation of tins subject every Trinitarian would as- 
sent. " Christ," says Francis Turrettin, " is to be 
Worshijtped, and to be worshipped as Mediator ; but 
Uie ground or formal reason of the adoration to be 
rendered to him is not his human nature, nor bis me- 
diatorial oftice, but solely his divinity, for notbii^ 
created cau be a proper object of adoration.* 

Pages 39 and 48, Ur. Channing represents Trini- 
tarianism as teaching liiat the object of Christ's 
death was to " quench vindictive wrath inGod," " to 
umiken his mercy," *' to open the arms of divine 
mercy." This is another repetition of a charge made 
in the Baltimore sermon, where " the popular sys- 
tem" is said to convey the idea, that '•' Christ's death 
Iius an influence in making God placable or mercifali 
in i)ucnching his wrath, in an-akening his kindaess 
towards men." In reference to this statement Dr. 
Wood's observes, in his Letters to L'uitarians, that 
** it is Qtufmniy the sentiment of tbe Orthodox, thlt 
tk« or^TMf Ae grand mocing cause of the whole tcork 
^ redemption, was the infinite love, benignity, or 
w»ercy t^' G'wi .- sod that i( is purtltf in con^quenee 
«/* this lort, that he appointed a Mediator, ajtd adopted 
everjr measure which he saw to be necessarv for the 
salTmUoo ol uian. The goodness, mercy, m placa- 
bUiiy ol' God. coosidervd as an attribute ckt' his cba- 
lacter, could then be neither produced uor increased, 

• at) ■'■- - -^ -*-^w^— I ..-.. .1- .->-; J — ■ I'ff,,-, i ,| | |^| n 

Cwitt Id Pn?*', cftB^' *- f ^ 
•Tto<iL EiuGL Lm. to. QMrt. t4 $ "^S. 



41 

by the atonement of Christ ; 05 the atonement it- 
gelf oi0ed its existence wholly to that eternal tmmu- 
toUe goodmss.^^* That the statement of Dr. Woods 
tiras fully justified will be seen from the following 
quotations. The Synod of Dort say, that <<the 
death of Christ, and through it, the redemption of 
maut proceeded from etemai love.^^f The West- 
minster divines assert that it was <* of his mere love 
and mercffj^^ that God gave his Son and saves his 
people.} Calvin says, ^* the merit of Christ depends 
solely on the grace of God^ which appointed this 
method of salvation for un ;" and ^< the love nf God 
holds the first place^ as the supreme and original 
coii^e" of our salvation.^ President Edwards sajrs, 
'< Wonderful is the love that is manifested in giving 
Christ to die for U8."|| ^^ Here," says Dr. Bellamy, 
after referring to the ruin of mankind by sin, ^^ here was 
an opportunity for infinite and self-moving mercy to 
exert itself in the most illustrious manner, in design- 
ing mercy, in providing a Mediator^ and in opening 
a door for the exercise of much grace to mankind in 
l^neral, and of special saving mercy in ton thousand 
thoasand instances. There was nothing ah extra — 
from without God himself to move and put him on to 
such a wonderful and glorious enterprise. The motion 
was wholly from himself from his self moving good-' 
ness/'H Dr. Scott, author of the Commentary on the 
Bible, says, ** The whde design of man's redemption 
originated in the love of God to the world, even to the 
apostate race of man." ** ^^ I believe," says Andrew 

* Flnt Mt p. 85. t Artkles, chap. ii. 

1 lATger Catechitm, reply to Q. 30. . 

« Instit. b. ii. chap. 17, lect. 1, 2. H Works, vol. vli. p. 306. 

4 Workt^ Tol. i. p. 330. ** Cfmm^ki on Johv uu 1^» 




I 



Fuller, " it is very common for people, when they*^ 
Bpeak of mndictwe punishment, to mean that kind of 
punishment which is inflicted from a wrathful dispo-' 
eition, or a disposition to punish for the pleasure of 
punishing. Now if this be the meaning of our oppo-" 
nenls," the Unitarians, when they allege, that ac-' 
cording to the Calvinistic S3'stem, God is a vindictive 
being, " we have no dispute with them. We do not' 
suppose the Almighty to punish sinners for the sake' 
of pulling them to pain. Neither Scripture nor Cal-^ 
vinism conveys any suck idea. Vindictive punish-^ 
ment, as it is here defended, stands opposed to that 
punishment which is merely corrective ; the one in- 
exercised for the good of the party ; the other not so, 
but for the good of the community." This last, he then' 
proceeds to show from Scripture testimony and from 
the nature and fitness of things, is amiable in God. 
Again, he says, referring to the Unitarian represen- 
tatioD of Calvinism as teaching that the atonement of 
Christ renders God merciful to men, " Nothing can 
well be a greater misrepresentation of our sentiments, 
than this which is constantly given. These writers 
cannot be ignorant that Calcinists disaeow consider- 
ing the death of Christ as a cause of divine loce or 
goodness. On the contrary, they always maintain 
that divine love is the cause, the first cause oj our 
salvation^ and of the death of Christ to that end. 
They would not scruple to allow, that God had love 
enough in his heart to save sinners without the death 
of his Son, had it been consistent with righteousness ; 
but that, as receiving them to favour without some 
public expression of displeasure against their sin, 
een a dtsboDour to his government, and 



I 



43 

have afTorded an encouragement for others to follow 
their example, tke love of God wrought in a way 
of righteousfussj first giving his only begotten Son 
to become a sacrifice, and thus pouring forth all the 
fulness of his heart through that appointed medium."* 
Another misrepresentation of Orthodox vievirs in 
reference to the atonement found in this discourse is, 
that they teach that, ^^ the infinite Creator saves the 
guilty by transferring their punishment to an inno- 
cent being," and thus ^^ lays the penalties of vice on 
the pure and unofiending," pp. 30, 31. Many Ortho- 
dox writers have indeed spoken of Christ's ^^ bearing 
the punishment due to the sins of men," and ^^ suf- 
fering the penalty of the law ;" and some excellent 
men have^ at times, expressed themselves on this 
subject in a way which we are by no means disposed 
to justify. But none who have used this language 
ever meant that our punishment was literally ^^ tranS" 
ferred^^ to Christ, and the penalty we had incurred 
laid upon him ; for the penalty and punishment which 
the. Orthodox teach has been incurred by sin is eter- 
nal death. But who will believe that any one ever 
meant to assert that our Lord suffered eternal death ? 
The reader will at once perceive that the language 
we have quoted from Orthodox writers was used 
by them in a figurative sense, as when Isaiah 
says, '' He hath borne our griefs and carried our 
sorrows," and ^^ the chastisement of our peace 
was upon him," i. e. his sufferings are a substi- 
tute for the penalty we have incurred by sin,— -they 
are a full equivalent for the punishment that was 
due to those who are forgiven, answering the same 

* Works, vol. ii. pp. 91, 89, 




I 



ends in the divine ^verameat. " He bore," sajs a 
judicious Calvinistir writer, "the punishment due to 
our sins, or that which, considering the dignity of 
his person, toas equivalent to it ;" ^' as 1 do not be- 
lieve Jeaus was in nay sense criminal, / cannot say 
he was realiy and property punished."* And be- 
cause the mode of expression in question has been too 
much insisted on by some of their own writers, and 
has been used as an ocpasion for misrepresenting 
Ibeir sentiments by impngners of the doctrine of 
atonement, it is now very generally discarded by the 
Orthodox, certainly so by nearly all of this class ia 
New England. They now usually express them- 
selves on this topic in some such language as the fol- 
lowing ; " Christ redeemed us from the curse of the 
law, by being made a curse for us. The law de- 
nounces a punishment. This was its curse. Christ 
delivers us from that punishment, by being made a 
eurae ; that is, by sulTeriug an evil, which, so far as 
the ends of the divine government are concerned, was 
equivalent to tho execution of the curse of the law 
upon transgressors."! 

' Again, Dr. Channing represents the Orthodox as. 
fegarding the atonement merely as the payment of a 
debt, and consequently as removing, inasmuch as it 
was required to remove, no other obstacle to pardon 
but that which arises from the individual interest of 
the creditor. " Suppose," says he, when avowedly 
illustrating their views of this subject, p. 42, " sup- 
pose that a creditor, through compassion to certain 
debtors, should persuade a benevolent and opulent 




45 

Hiaii to pay him in their stead. Would not the debt* 
ors see greater mercy, and feel a weightier obligation, 
if they were to receive a free, gratuitous release ?'' 
Now it is true that the advocates of atonement have 
often spoken of Christ as having ^* bought us, or 
redeemed us from destruction, by the price of his own 
Uood." And in doing so, they have followed the 
eiample of the Scriptuies ; which represent us as 
Qod's debtors. Matt, vu 12 ; as ^^ bought with a 
price,'' 1 Cor. vi. 20 ; as *^ redeemed with the blood 
of Christ,'' 1 Pet. i. 18, 19. It is also true that 
some Orthodox writers, especially those who have 
maintained what is called a limited atonement, have, 
in the view of their brethren, who entertained a dif^ 
feseat opsnion as to the extent of the atonement, in-* 
sisted (no moch upon this representation. But no 
writer, generally received as an authority among the 
Orthodox, has asserted that the atonement of Christ 
in to be regarded merely as the payment 4^ a debt^ 
and as removing no oU^er obstacle to the pardon of 
sinnefs£ii< one existing on the part of God. Francis 
Turrettin, arguing the necessity of an atonement, 
says that ^' sin, for which satisfaction is required, is 
to be vegatded, not only as a debt, by wMch we are 
faonnd to divine justice for its payment, but also as a 
erime, for which we are under sentence of eternal 
death befoi« God, ike ovfreme (rovemor and Judge 
of the world. Wherefore sinners are not only called 
dAtorSj Matt. vi. 12^ but also guilty before Giod, or 
condemned by his law, Rom. iii. 19. Henoe, to ef- 
fect owr redemptkm, it was oeoessoNry AslI the debt 
of sin should be paid, and our guilt expiated^^^ i. e. 
according to his use of the term guilt, (fie demand oj 



I 



the law upon us satisfied.* " Some of the peculiar 
principles of the Antinomiaiis," says Dr. Bellamy, 
•' seem to take their rise from ivrang notions of the 
nature of satisfaction for sin." " They seem to 
consider God merely under the notion of a creditor, 
and us merely under the notion of debtors." But 
" nothing is more evident than that God is, in scrip- 
ture, considered as the rigUteous Governor of the 
world, and we as criminals guilty before him ; and 
the evident design of Christ's death was, to be a 
propilialion for sin; to declare and manifest God's 
righteousness, that he might be just, and the justjfier 
of him that believeth iu Jesus."t '* The atonement 
of Christ," Andrew Fuller remarks, "proceeds, not 
on the principle of commercial, but of moral justice, 
or justice as it relates to crime. Its grand object is 
to express the divine displeasure against sin, and so 
to render the exercise of mercy, in all the ways 
wherein sovereign wisdom should determine to apply 
it, consistent with righteousness."! And Dr. Woods 
has stated, that, " when Christ is said to pay our 
debt, it is signified, simply, that, by means of his 
sufferings, he delivers us from punishment. Th: 
similitude does not relate particularly to the mode of 
deliverance, nor to the nature of the evil which is 
escaped, nor to the nature of the good secured, but 
merely to the fact of his procuring deliverance by 
means of his death. "^ 

Once more, Trinitarianism is represented, in this 
discourse, as teaching that, in the crucitixion of 
Christ, the divinity suffered and died. " Its leading 

»TbcQl. Elenct. Loc. 14. Quest. 10, sect. 6. 

t Works, »ol. I. pp. 378, 379. Jib. vol. i. p. 09, 

^ Letten to Unitarians, first edit. p. 94. 



47 

feature,'* says the author, p. 17, '*is the doctrine of 
the Infinite Divinity dying on a cross.^^ Page 45, 
he represents the Orthodox as maintaining that ^' the 
angels need an executed Chd to confirm their loyal- 
ty." And, lest it should be supposed that, in em- 
ploying ^^ the language of earnest discussion," he had, 
in the passages just quoted, used expressions which 
might seem to convey more than was intended, he 
adds, p. 46, ^^ Let none say that we misrepresent the 
doctrine of atonement, the primary and essential 
idta of which is the public execution of a God, 
for the purpose of satisfying justice and awakening a 
shuddering dread of sin." 

Here is an example of boldness of assertion never 
before equalled, so far as we now recollect, even by 
Unitarians. The Orthodox have in former instances 
been censured for maintaining that << an infinite being 
suffered for sin," inasmuch as they maintain that the 
humanity of Christ, by which the sufferings which 
made atonement were endured, subsisted in intimate 
personal union with the divinity, in consequence of 
which those sufferings have, in their view, an unlim- 
ited value. But never before, as far as we know, 
has any one ventured to represent Trinitarians as be- 
lieving in the sufferings of the divinityj the execution 
of a God. And the reason probably has been, that 
all preceding impugners of Orthodoxy have felt that 
it would be hazarding too much to make such a re- 
presentation. For scarcely ever was there an Or- 
thodox sermon preached, or treatise written, in which 
the reasons of the incarnation of Christ were assign- 
ed, which did not state as the most prominent one, 
that he might suffer and die in out ^tead. K.\x^ 



whesever it has been thought important to showtb! 
he could not suffer in our stead whiioHt becnmiiig ' 
incarnate, it has been invariably asserted, that the i 
divine nature is incapable of suffering. " Why," ask 
the Westminster divines, " was it necessary that the 
Mediator should be man P" And they reply, " That 
be might perform obedience to the law, suffer, &c."* 
'* As it would have been impossible," aays CaJviay 
in his chapter on "the necessity of Christ becoming 
man in order lo fulfil the office of Mediator," " As it 
would have been impossible for one who %vtts only 
God to S'uffer death, or for one who was a mere man 
to overcome it, he associated the htiman Jiature ttn'(ft 
Hie divine, that he might submit the weakness of the 
former to death as an atoHemenl for sins, and tha^ 
with tJje power of the latter, he might contend with 
death, and obtain a victory on our behatf."t Frau- 
cia Turrettiu argues, " It was necessary that our 
Mediator should be man, as well as God, that, by 
iyinf^, he mi^ht acquire salvation for us ; for the di- 
vinity couUi not die."J " If Christ," says President 
Edwards, ^'had remaint^d only in the divine nature, 
be would not have been in a capacity to have pur- 
chai^d our salvation ; not from auy imperfection of 
the divine nature, but by reason of its absolute ami 
infinite perfection ; for Christ, merely as God, was 
not capable of that obedience or suffering that was 
needful. The divine uuiure is not capable of suf- 
fering, for it is infinitely above all suffering,'' 

Sitch are the statements, in this discourse, of some 
of the more prominent doctrines of Orthodoxy ; and 
such is a portion of the evidence of the incorrectness 

\ loalit b. ii. cap. sii. wet. 3. 
ect. 19. 5 Works, vol. ii. p. 181. 



i 
I 

I 



of these statements, Our apology for occupying so 
large a portion of this review with quotations from 
Trinitarian writers of authority is twofold. So se- 
jous a charge as that contained in this head of re- 
inark, ought never, we think, to be made, without 
ling sustained by the most express proof. We also 
lew that statements similar to those we have quoted 
from the discourse, (with the single exception of the 
last of them,) are frequently made by Unitarians, from 
the press, and from the putpit ; and we considered it 
a duty to improve the present opportunity of inform- 
JBg those of our readers, who have been in the habit 
hearing and perusing such statements without a 
lowledge of their incorrectness, what are the opin- 
Ds of the Orthodox on the subjects referred lo. 
And now what shall be said of these numerous and 
ilpable misrepresentations ? Were they beyond a 
tubt, the result of intention on the part of their au- 
lOr, we should be at no loss for an answer to the 
lestion. To bring upon individuals or classes of 
eu the public odium, by imputations known to be 
taifounded, is a most aggravated offence against so- 
aety, and against heaven. But what means can be 
mployed, having a more direct and certain tendency 
o bring upon persons public odium, than to impute 
them religious tenets, calculated to excite, and 
fcund, by experiment, never failing to excite execra- 
<ioD and contempt ? What then is the extent of crim- 
Snality in the professed mioister of the Gospel, who 
ihfts reason to believe that hundreds, perhaps thou> 
ands, will receive his statements with implicit confi- 
lence, and suffers himself, publicly, to impute such 
7 



I 




tenets to a large class of nominal Christians knowii^'- 
the imputation to be unfounded. 

But we are tiot willing to charge Dr. Channing with 
having intentionally misrepresented the sentiments 
of Trinitarians. What explanation then shall be 
given of his representations of their opinions ? Shall 
it be said that some of them are correct in tkeir ap- 
plication to individuals who have been ranked with 
Trinitarians ? This, we have seen, can be said with 
truth of hut one or two of his representations. But, 
if it might be said with truth of all, would their au- 
thor be justified in attributing those opinions to the 
whole body of Trinitarians ? Dr. Channing has said 
in another publication, "The injustice would be 
seen and resented, if a Trinitarian were charged 
with every opinion which has, at any time, been 
found in company with the doctrine of three persons 
in one God, and if every rash saying of every brother 
Trinitarian were to be laid at his door."* 

Will it be said that the statements of the opinions of 
the Orthodox contained in the discourse may be derived 
by inference from their representations and reasonings ? 
There are passages in the discourse which have the 
appearance of attempting in this way to justify some 
of the representations given of Orthodox opinions. 
Thus, p. 49, the author argues that " three persons, 
constituting one God, must either be frittered away 
into three unmeaning distinctions, into sounds signi- 
fying nothing, or they are three conscious agents, 
who cannot, by any humau art or metaphysical de- 
vice, be made to coalesce into one being," i. e. they 
are three Gods. And p. 17, he contends, that "on 
(o seriDOD at tlie ordinatiaD of Mr. Ganaetl. pp. 3S, 30. 



51 

the supposition that the second person of the Trinity 
became incarnate, God may be said to be a material 
being, on the same general ground on which this is 
affirmed of man." The reasoning in both these in- 
stances is, in our view, wholly inconclusive. But 
whether it be so or not, is not material to our present 
purpose. What if it could be shown, in this way, 
that the Orthodox ^^ may be said,^' not only to be- 
lieve in three Gods and to worship a corporeal Grod, 
but to hold all the monstrous opinions ascribed to 
them in this discourse. Is it just to attribute to in- 
dividuals or denominations inferences from their doc- 
trines, which they have not only not admitted, but have 
positively denied ? Dr. Channing himself has replied. 
The ^^ practice'' in a writer, he has said, ^^ of fastening 
on his opponents the consequences which seem to him to 
follow from their system," is " unfair and injurious.'^'* 
<^ Suppose that I, availing myself of this expeditious 
way of settling the opinions of others, should make 
a collection of the inferences which seem to me to 
flow from the doctrine that God is the author of sin, 
and suppose that I should publish this collection to the 
world as the creed of those Christians by whom this 
doctrine is received ; would they not reproach me as 
a liheller V * 

Is it to be supposed, that Dr. Channing is not in- 
formed what are the real opinions of the Orthodox 
on the topics referred to in his representations ? If it 
were so, would he be justified in the course he has 
pursued ? Would the man who, publicly, makes im- 
putations unfavourable to the moral character of an- 
other, having no foundation in fact, be justified by 

* Remarks on Dr. Worcester'B First Letter^ VV« ^^^ ^^- 




tfae [dea that he did not know them to be false ? 

Would you not say, he is bound to know that what 
he states is true ? And is not the religious contro- 
verlist who publicly imputes to his opponents ridicu- 
lous and execrable opinions, equally bound to know 
that his statements are true ? And if they are Dot, ia 
iie not utterly without excuse ? 

But Dr. Channing cannot he uninformed as to the 
Tea! opinions of Trinitarians. He was educated among 
this class of Christians. In his preparation for the 
Ministry, it is probable, he chiefly read Orthodox 
works on theology. Fie has publicly asserted that 
his '* earliest prepossessions must have been in favour 
oflhedoctriije of the Trinity."* Yea, more. He has, 
on different occasions, avowed his knowledge of the 
fact, that the real belief of the Orthodox, on several 
very important points, is directly the reverse of what 
he has stated it to be in this discourse. In his last 
publication, the Orthodox are represented, p. 50, as 
almost discarding the use of reason in their religious 
discussions. But in the Baltimore sermon, he says, 
p. 9, " None reason more frequently than our ad- 
versaries. It is astonishing what a fabric they rear 
froni a few slight hints about the fall of our first pa- 
rents, and how ingeniously they extract from detach- 
ed passages mysterious doctrines about the divine 
nature." In the discourse now under review. Dr. 
Channing charges Trinitarians with believing in three 
Gods, or, as he expresses it, " three conscious agents 
who cannot, by any human art or metaphysical de- 
vice, be made to coalesce into one being." But in 
<fcis Remarks on Dr. Worcester's Second Letter, he 

ReitiBrbB on Dr. Worcester's Second Lcller, p. 9. 



55 

smjS) p. 25| ^^ Trmiterians and Unitarians both believe 
tfi«iie GW, one infinite and self ^existent mind^^^ 
In the New York discourse the Orthodox are repre* 
seated as teaching that the object of Christ's death 
is to render God merciful. But, p. 42, it is admitted 
that, according to Trinitarianism, the mercy of God 
provided the substUute for the guilty. Trinitarians, 
it is said again, hold, ^^ as the primary and essential 
idea" of their doctrine of atonement, that ^^ the Infi- 
nite Divinity died on a cross. '^ But in the Baltimore 
sermon, it is said, p. 25, that the advocates of atone- 
ment ^^ when pressed with the question, whether they 
really beliere, that the infinite and unchangeable God 
died on a cross, acknowledge that this is not true^ 
but that Christ^s human mind alone sustained the 
pains of death ;" and a similar statement is made, 
p. 47, of the discourse preached at New York. It 
was not, therefore, ignorance of the real opinions of 
the Orthodox which occasioned the mi»representa* 
tiotts we have exposed. 

How, then, shall they be accounted for ? Shall we 
say of their aiiithor, as he said some years since (in 
eor view without just cause) of a certain reviewer ; 
^^ the wost charitable construction which his conduct 
will «dmit, is, that his passions and party spirit have 
criminally blinded him, and hurried him into an act, 
which could have been authorised only by the strong- 
est evidence, and the most impartial inquiry" ?* 

We are not willing, as we have intended to evince 
by the strain of our remarks, to adopt either of the 
andts to which we have alluded, of accounting for 
dKse mistef Fesentations. And we cannot think of any 
other. We must therefore leave them unaccounted {qi. 




» 



I 



Id concluding this head, we appeal to our real 
sense of Justice, and ask, Is not Dr. Channing bound, 
publicly, to retract the statements he has made iu 
this discourse, of the sentiments of Trinitarians?' 
We also request any of our readers who may, here-, 
after, see in Unitarian publications, or hear from Uni-< 
tarian pulpits, such statements, to do the Orthodox 
the justice to recollect that they are not true- 

IV. Without entering upon the discussion of th» 
main question, which of the two systems is of superi- 
or tendency to form an elevated religious character^ 
we may notice some of the instances of inconclu- 
sive REASONING fouud in this discourse. 

Several of the arguments are founded on the mis- 
representations which have just been exposed, and 
are, therefore, wholly without force, as applied to the 
real sentiments of Trinitarians. Thus the first argu- 
ment, pp. IS — 16, assumes, that Tnnitarianism pre- 
sents to the mind three infinite and independent ob- 
jects of affection and adoration ; and the reasoning 
under the fourth head, (Vom p. 24 to p. 26, is ground- 
ed on the supposition, that the Orthodox hold that 
one of the persons in the Godhead is, independently 
of the others, an infinitely perfect being, which im- 
plies that each is, independently of the others, an 
infinitely perfect being, i. e. that there are three 
Gods. But the Orthodox do not believe in three 
Gods. Much of what is said under the ninth and 
under the sixth heads about the influence of Unitari- 
anism in improving, and of Trinitarianism in confin- 
ing and degrading the intellectual powers, is predicat- 
ed on the erroneous position, that the Orthodox dis- 
card reason in religious investigations. And the 
fFbole of tbe reasoning employed, pp. 41 — 43, to 



55 

show that pardon through the sacrifice of Christ is 
not gratuitous, and therefore "obscures God's mercy," 
is founded on the false assumption, that, according 
to the views of Trinitarians, the atonement is merely 
the payment of a debt, and its chief object is to ren- 
der the Divine Being merciful. 

There are also numerous instances of inconclusive 
reasoning, not directly founded on misrepresentations 
of Orthodox opinions. 

Page 17, the author of the discourse reasons as follows : '* On 
the supposition that the second person of the Trinity became m- 
camate, God may be said to be a material being, on the same 
general ground on which this is affirmed of man ; for man is ma- 
terial only by the union of mind with the body ; and the very 
meaning of incarnation is, that God took a body, through which 
he acted and spoke, as the human soul operates through the cor- 
poreal organs." That is, if the reasoning be stated more distinct- 
ly ; ' The human soul is united to a body, therefore man is a 
material being. God, according to Trinitariamsm, took a body, 
therefore God is a material being.' The arguments, it is at once 
seen, are not similar. In the former, the predicate respects the 
soul, and the conclusion respects man ; but in the latter, boA the 
predicate and the conclusion respect Ood. . A man is a complex 
person, composed of soul and body, and therefore it b proper to 
say that he, the man, is a material, as well as a spiritual being. 
The Lord Jesus Christ is, according to Trinitarianism, a complex 
person, composed of divinlQr and humanity, and therefore it is 
proper to say, that he, Christy is a divine, and that he is a human 
beii^. The human sotil is united to a body ; but it cannot, on 
that account, be said, with accuracy, that the soul is material. 
God, QX the divine nature in the person of the Son, according to 
Trinitarianism, became united to a body ; but it cannot, on that 
account, be said, with accuracy, that Grod is a material being. 

Pages 18, 19, we have some remarks about ^ the Protestant, if 
a Trinitarian, condemning himself, while he condemns the Ro- 
man Catholics, for using similitudes and represeu\a\io\i^ vcl ^^\£ 




» 



worship ;' " for," says Dr. Chaniiing, " if as he," the TrimtnritB 
Protestant, " believes, it was once a duty to bow in adoralJOD he- 
fore the living body of his incarnate God, what possible guilt can 
there be in worshipping before the pictured or sculptured memo- 
rial of Uie same being ? Christ's body may as truly be repre- 
sented by the artist as any otlier human form ; and its image mny 
be used, as effectually and properly, as diat of an ancient sage or 
bero, to recall him witli vividness to the mind." To this, Dr. 
Cbaoaing supposes the Trinitarian Protestant to reply, " that 
God has expressly forbidden the use of images in our worship."* 
This perfectly conclusive answer he attempts to set aside by the 
following reasoning, " But why was iliat prohibition laid on tkt 
Jewtt For this express reason, lliat God had not presented 
himself to them in any form which admitted of representatitni. 
Hear tlie language of Moses, ' Take good heed, lest ye rnahB 
you a graven image ; for ye saw no manner of similitude on tbe 
day that the Lord spake to you in Horeb out of the midst of tbe 
fire.' Deut. iv. 15. If, since that period, God has taken ■ 
body, then the reason of the prohibition has ceased." That is, 
' the reason why God has forbidden all nation*, from the begin- 
ning (for the moral law is the law of the human race), to worship 
any graven image is, thai the Jews saw no manner of similitude 
when the Lord spake to them in Horeb, A. M. 2513 !' TTie 
fact mentioned by Moses, was a reason why the Jews should not 
transgress the second commandment, but it was not at all a reason 
why that " prohibition was laid " on them and ail other nations. 

I If then any event has since occurred, which has rendered inap. 
plicable tlic argument of Moses, Deut. iv. !5, the second com- 
Enandment will, neverthaless, remain in force ; and will funtish an 
answer, as conclusive as it is brief, to Dr. Channing's argument 
from the condemnation of Roman Catholics by the Trinitarian 
Protestant. 
Again, it is alleged in this discourse as a conclusive argument 
against the doctrine of the Trinity, that it involves a contradicdon. 
" Trinttarianism," it is said, p. 49, " cojitradictt reaton ;" and, p. 
23, that it " involves irreconcilable ideai. One God consisting 
of three persons is a being so contradictory." This charge, which 
has often been made, has been repelled in the following 



57 

*< Those wha allege that the doctrine of the Trinkj inchides « 
coDtradictioOy reason thus : ^ The idea of one, and the idea of 
three, are cootradictorj and subversive of one another, so that the 
same tluag cannoc be one and three at the same time. Bat Tri- 
sHuianB affirm, that God is one and three at the same time ; 
diereibre thej affirm what cannot be true, i. e. a contradtctorjr 
pvopositioD.' But the major propositkm is stated in a loose and 
indefiiiita manner, and is not true in every instance ; for a triangle 
is one and three at the same time, when considered as one among 
many figures, and in reference to its sides. In order to be true, 
that 18, admissible, the major proposition must run thus: 'It is 
impoflsiUe for the same thing to be one and three, tn the same re- 
9fut^ at die same time.' To this we assent. But in this form, 
4ie doetrine of the Trinity is by no means embraced under it, 
lor, it need not be told to the intelligent reader, diat Trinitarians 
manimously ienig that God is one and three tn the same respect. 
They expressly teach that God is one in one respect, and three 
10 another respeet. The first respect they denominate by the 
term euence [or 6etiigf], and the second by the term persons. 
Therefi>re, as die Ttmitarian proposition is not embraced in the 
major, the conclusion of course is not applicable to it."* Or to 
elate the answer in a difierent form : Man is one and two at the 
aarae time. But this assertion involves no contradiction, because 
it aflirms man to be one and two in different respects : one, con- 
sidered as an individual of the human race ; two, in reference to 
his soul and body. So Grod, according to Trinitarianism, is one 
and three at the same time. But this proposition involves no 
contradiction, because it affirms the Divine Being to be one and 
diree m different senses ; one, in respect to essence, or considered 
as related to intelligent existences ; and three, in respect to an 
unexplained distinction usually expressed by the term persons. 

Pages 28, 29, the author seems to argue that Ttinitarianism is 
not taught ia the scriptures, because it was not found, by certain 
exaked minds, in those passages which have been supposed, by its 
advocates, to contam it. '^ Trinitarianism,'' he says, " is shut up 



* Appendix to vol. i. of Schmucker'B translation of Stoor's Biblical 
Tbeotogy, p. 469. This Appendix we would earnestly fecommeod to 
the atteiUiTe pemsal of those who wish (o obtain accarate ideas as |o 
'^ the relation of the doctrine of the Trinitj to reason." 

8 




in a few texts, a tew milten Uoes, inhere many ofiheu 
have failed to discover it." " Three divine persons, I repeat it« 
are found only in a few texts, and those so dark, (hat the g^edt 
minds of Milton, JVeirton, and Locke did not find them ihtre."' 
" Many of the wisest minds," as those of Voltaire, and Volney, 
and Hume, and Bolingbi-oke, " failed to discover" the svidenceK 
of divine revelation ; therefore, according to this reasoning of Dr^ 
Channing we are to believe that the scriptures are not inspired^ 
" The gifted mind of Milton " did " find," or supposed it found, iaf 
certain "texts" of Scripture, that God is a material being, 
the human soul is material, that polygamy is lawful ; therefor^ 
according to this reasoniug of Dr. Channing, we are to belierft 
that these monstrous doctrines are taught in (he scriptures. Thfc 
same "gifted mind" found in the Bible the doctrines of o * 
ginal sin, and of vicarious atonement ; does Dr. Channing^ 
therefore, as tiic principle of his argument in this place requiroft 
him to do, receive these as doctiities of scripture f Or does hff 
call even " the gifted Milton" master, only so far as he likes hj^ 
opinions ? 

Page 37, it is said, " We deem our views of Jesus Christ n 
interesting than those of Trinitarianism. According to Uoitanf^ 
nanism he is a being who may he understood, for he is one min^ 
one conscious nature. According to the opposite faidi, he is a 
inconceivable compound of two most dissimilar minds, joining iH 
one person a finite and infinite nature, a soul weak and ignoraoli 
and a soid utinighiy and oiimlscient." According to Dr. Chant 
ning's views of the person of Jesus Christ, " he is a being who 
may be understood," there is nothing " inconceivable," notfaiDg 
mysterious, in llie coiisiitulion of his person. Dr. Channiag is, 
we believe, a high Arian. He supposes that a superangelic spirit 
assumed a body ; which being, composed of a superangelic spirit 
and a human body, was the Lord Jesus Christ. This exalted 
spirit, in all its maturity, was then the soul of the infant bom in 
itie manger of Bethlehem. This exalted spirit, in all its maturity, 
united to an infant's body, we are to suppose Luke asserdng, 
" grew, and waxed strong," and increased in " wisdom," as ilie 
human souls of otlier infants do .' And iliis being, having no hu- 
man soul, is often said by the sacred writers to liave been a man, 



59 

m aU respects like other men, with the single exception of sm ! 
Tet there is nothing " inconceivable," nothing mysterious in all 
this ! But stiD, Dr. Channing argues, ' Jesus Christ is a more 
interesting, because he is a more simple, '' object of thought and 
afl^tioD," according to Unitarianism, than according to the op- 
posite fiiith ; for, according to the former, he *^ is one conscious 
nature," but according to the latter, he is ** a compound of two 
most dissimilar" natures.' A being is then interesting as an '* ob- 
ject of thought and afiection " in proportion to the simplicity of 
its nature. And consequendy the lower animals, having, as some 
suppose, but one nature, the material, are more interesting '' ob- 
jects of thought and afiection " than men, who are *' a compound 
of two most dissimilar" natures, the material and the spiritual. 

Pages 43, 44, Dr. Channing supposes a Trinitarian to allege, 
as a pecufiar advantage of his system, that '^ it provides an infi- 
nite substitute for the sinner," and says, *^ this doctrine of an in- 
finite satisfaction, or, as it is improperly called, * of an infinite 
atonement,' subverts, instead of building up hope, because it ar- 
gues infinite severi^ in the government which requires it." Ad- 
nut, for argument's sake, (and for no other reason can we admit 
it for a moment,) that such a provision did " argue infinite sc- 
verity in the government which requires it." The gracious pro- 
vmoDf by diat government, of '^ an infinite satisfaction," would ar- 
gue that it was also infinitely merciful ; and thus die obstacle 
which its severity, if that alone had before been displayed, might 
have presented to the indulgence of hope, would be entirely re- 
moved. And why would it have been removed, and that at such 
an amazing expense f For the very purpose of opening to a 
guilty world a door of hope. Yet this provision, according to the 
logic of this discourse, '* subverts instead of building up hope " ! 

Pages 46, 47, it is urged as '^ a second objection to this doc- 
trine of infinite atonement," that, " when examined minutely, and 
freed firom ambiguous language, it vanishes into air ;" for the 
doctrine of the Orthodox is not (what had been asserted on the 
preceding page to be its " primary and essential idea") *' that the 
great God really sufifered and died ;" but, '' that God took into 
onion with himself our nature, that is, a human body and soul ; 
and these bore the sufierings for our sins." " Thus the \n&Tv\\% 



I 



Tictim proves lo be a ii'ail inan, and God's share in ibe ii 
is a mere fiction." Tliat is, ' on the supposiilon that the huioMg I 
body and soul of Jesus Christ were united to liie Divinity in tl 
rasDaer the Oitltodox believe, his sufferings would be of no motvl 
worili tlian those of an ordinary man.' Bui is it thus diat the woHlk^fl 
of sufferings is esumated .'' Dr. Channing, we presume, will a 
that it is only [lie body of man tliat dies. The bodies of brutes abl 
die. But is the death of a man of no more importance than ti 
death of a brute ? If, as the high Arians suppose was the fact ■ 
the person of the Saviour, a superangelic being should tabe^ 
body and be put to death, his superangelic nature would t 
die. De.itli, in bis case, as in that of ordinary men, could 1m~I 
slrictly predi^d only of tlie body. But would bis deatli be of 
no more importance than liiat of an ordinary man .' Every mind 
estimates the death of a man as far more important than that of 
a brute. And why ' Because that which diet is, in the former 
case, united lo an inteUigent and immortal spirit, and in the other 
is not. Should a superangelic spirit take a body, every mind would 
estimate the deaili of this being as far more important than that of 
an ordbary man. And why ? Because that which dies is, b the 
one case, united lo a superangelic spirit, and in the otiicr is not. 
Suppose, then, the Divinity in the person of the Son, has, as the 
Orthodox believe, taken a human body and soul, and that the 
glorious person thus constituted has, in bis human nature, sufiered 
and died. What is die value of his sufferings and death ? Eve 
candid mind esteems them of unlimited value. 



There are io the tliscourse other instances of io^ 
conclusive reasoning equally surprising. But the ejn§ 
posure of ihem will be more appropriately made id 
the course of the discussioa reserved for a future pab 
lication. 

V. This discourse, in connexion with other publi- 
cations, FURNISHES DECISIVE EVIHENCE OF THE CON- 
TINUED PROGRESS OF UNITARIANI3M JN THIS COUN- 
TRY IN DEPARTING FROM THE FAITH OF THE FATHERS 

OF HEW EMGLAHD. This pfogress was uoticed, and 




61 

its oontinuance predicted by Professor Stuart in his 
Letters to Dr. Channing in 1819. To Dr. Chan- 
ning himself Mr. Stuart then said, ^^ A mind capable 
of reasoning and thinkingi in such a manner as yours, 
must necessarily, as it seems to me, come to (he same 
conclusions with Eichhorn, and Paulus, and Henke, 
and Eckermann, and Herder, and other distinguished 
men of the new German School, when it begins to 
reason with such maxims as those which you adopt.'* 
And in reference to the advocates of Unitarianism in 
genera], Mr. Stuail: anticipated that, in a short time, 
the great body (^ them would be simple Humanitari- 
ans, and that the question between them and the Or^ 
thodox here would soon be, ^^ whether natural or reveal- 
ed religion is our guide and our hope." * The latter 
part of this prediction, those, not advocates of Unitari- 
anism, who had observed the progress of religious opin- 
ions in Boston and the vicinity for several preceding 
years, had no doubt would be fulfilled. But that which 
related to Dr. Channing it was, we believe, not gen- 
erally expected would be fulfilled. His Orthodox 
education and apparent reverence for the Scriptures, 
it was thought by many, would preserve him from 
departing much farther than he had then done from 
Evangelical sentiments. But the fact seems to be, that 
both parts of Mr. Stuart's prediction, though not yet 
completely fulfilled, are advancing rapidly toward a 
full accomplishmenL 

When Dr. Channing first became a preacher of 
the Gk>spel, he was, we conclude from a careful ex- 
amination of all the evidence we have been able to 
collect, a Semi-Arian, believing the Son of God to 

* Second edit pp. 171, 175. 



6« 

to be deprecated as a calamity that we should be t 
quired to derive our opinious of the mode of th* 
divine existence from the Scriptures alone. 3. Th« 
inference appears to be fairly authorized, that tha 
Bible, without the illumination of nature, would b| 
a dark and defective conimtinication of religiooi 
truth, while the testimony of nature, at least in refet* 
eitce to the mode o(. the divine existence, is clear aiH 
complete. 4. The supposed testimony of creation il 
preferred to the supposed testimony of certain tex^ 
of Scripture ; and this because the latter has nQ| 
been found by "the gifted minds of Milton, Newton} 
and Locke." Now Dr. Channing has said in ihii 
discourse that he " sees anion<^ Llic adherents of Tris 
itariantsm superior minds and great minds," and th 
author of the review of Dr. Beecher's sermon a| 
Worcester has asserted, that " Uoitarianism hasner^ 
jet prevailed in any country." We presume, theret 
fore, it will be admitted that the majority of *' giftflfi 
minds" that have yet appeared in Christendom ha*K 
been Trinitarians. The reasoning employed unchi^ 
the fifth head of the discourse may then be fairlj 
stated thus: Some "gifted minds" have found lA 
nature testimony in favour of Unitarianism, which 
testimony has not been found by the majority of 
" gifted minds" in Christendom that have investi- 
galed the doctrines of religion. And some "gifted 
minds" have not found in certain texts of Scripture 
testimony to the truth of Trinitarianism, which testi- J 
mony has been found by the majority of " giftedf 
minds" that have received and studied the Christian 
revelation. We are, however, to receive the sup- 
posed testinaony of nature to Unitarianism and reject 



65 

the supposed testimony of certain texts of Scriptare 
to Trinitarianism." This certainly looks very much 
like exalting reason, or the testimony of nature, above 
Scripture. And Unitarians generally in this country, 
if we have not greatly misunderstood their more re- 
cent statements on this subject, now regard the Epis- 
tles as of less authority than the Gospels, and receive 
the Bible, not as itself a revelation from God^ but 
only, as a history or account of such a revelation ; 
a history written indeed with candor and fairness, 
and by persons in most respects well qualified 
for the work, but still a history liable, like every 
other, to contain errors and mistakes. ^^ A great 
part, "says one of. their most esteemed writers, ^^ of 
the perplexing and unhappy consequences arising 
from . unintelligible and superstitious doctrine, and 
from misapprehension of Scripture, have sprung from 
this very source— -the leaning on the apostles instead 
of on Jesus-— the learning Christianity from the ob- 
scure discussions of particular questions at Rome, or 
Corinth, or Galatia, instead of taking it from the 
plain exposition of their Master, who spoke for the 
edification of all men, in all ages, and under all cir- 
cumstaqces." ^' The spirit preserved them," the 
Apostles, '^ from injurious error in recording truth ; 
but still they are not to be put on a level with their 
infallible Master."* And in the religious journal of 
greatest authority among Unitarians in this country, 
it was not long since said, the Bible is to be '^ con- 
sidered as containing a revelation from God, and giv- 
ing a complete account of the divine dispensations." 

• Disccranes on the Offices and Character of Jesus Christ, by Honry 
WtTe, jun. ; published in 1825, pp. 15, 14. 

.9 




k 



"If is also to lie regarded as consisting wholly ^ 
human compositions, like other writings of equal an0 
Itquity, the fair subjects of criticism."" 

In 1808, Dr. Channing believed and preached tb# 
doctrine of depravity. In a sermon of his, delivered!' 
in December of that year, at the ordination of MrJ 
now Dr. Codnjan, are the following statements itf 
relation to the character of unregenerate men. " T^ 
whom is he," the minister of the Gospel, *' sent t* 
preach ? To men of upright hearts, disposed to re-^ 
ceive and obey the truth which guides to heaven^ 
To men before whom the fulure is arrayed in lights 
and who are surrounded only with objects friendly tfl> 
peace and improvement ? Ah, no ! He is called tl^ 
guide a wandering flock, through a thorny, rugged 
wilderness, beset with snars and beasts of prey, and 
on this side and on that, terminated by abrupt andl 
hidden precipices. He is sent to a world of sinner*, 
in whose hearts lurk idolatry, sensuality, pridti^ 
and EVERY coRRtipTiON." t " BchoId that man, sa^ 
mild, so heavenly, once he was a cniLD of sataw."^ 
And from these statements we suppose very few, t^ 
any, of the Congregational clergy, at that time iai 
Boston and the vicinity, would have dissented. How 
diflTerent Hi-e the present views of Dr. Channing and' 
his brethren in relation to the native character of 
man. " For ourselves," says Dr. Channing in the 
discourse now before us, pp. 27, 26, 31, 32, " Wc 
look with horror and grief on the views of God's 
government, which are naturally and intimately united 
with Trinilarianism." " It teaches, that the Infinite 
Father saw fit to put into the hands of our first pa- 






67 

rents the character and condition of their whole pro- 
geny, and that through one act of disobedience the 
whole race bring with them into being a corrupt na* 
ture, or are born depraved." ^^ Some of the most 
affecting tokens of God's love within and around us 
are obscured by this gloomy theology. The glorious 
faculties of the soul, its high aspirations, its sensibili- 
ty to the great and good in character, its sympathy 
with disinterested and suffering virtue, its benevolent 
and religious instincts^ its thirst for a happiness not 
found on earth, these are overlooked or thrown into 
the shade, that they may not disturb the persuasion 
of man's natural corruption." And Dr. Ware has 
said, ^* Man is by nature no more inclined or disposed 
to vice than virtue." ^< I insist that, if we take a 
fair and full view, we shall find that wickedness, far 
from being the prevailing part of the human character, 
makes but an inconsiderable part of it."* 

When Unitarianism first made its appearance in 
this country, and for some time after, its advocates 
generally believed, or at least disclaimed a disbelief, 
in a vicarious atonement. In 1808, Dr. Channing 
said, '* The importance of ministerial earnestness will 
be seen, if we consider what concern God has ex- 
pressed, what infinite means he has employed to that 
great end which the Christian ministry is designed 
to advance. The salvation of man is the leading 
object of the providence of God. ...For this the Son 
of God himself left the abodes of glory, and expired 
a victim on the cross." f In 1815, he said in behalf 
of himself, and his brethren, " It is indeed very true, 

* Letten to TriDitarians and CalriiiUts, pp. S0« S4. 
t Sermon at the ordination of Dr. Codman, p. 12. 



(liat Unitarians say nothing about infinite atone- 
ment." But, "with respect to the atonement, thaf' 
great body of Liberal Christians seem to me to accord 
precisely with the author of ' Bible News ;' or rather^* 
both agree very much with the profound Butler."* 
And what were the views of Bishop Butler on thi^ 
subject ? After a conclusive argument in favor of 
the reasonableness aud credibility of the doctrifle, ho? 
says, " The particular manaer in which Christ inter* 
posed in the redemption of the world, or his office ajK 
Mediator, in the largest sense, between God ana 
man, is thus represented to us in the Scripture, ffe 
is the light of the world; the revealer of the will of 
God in the most eminent sense. He is a propitiato- 
ry SACRiFiCEi the Lamb of God ; and as he volunta- 
rily offered himself up, he is styled our High Priest' 
And, which seems of peculiar weight, he is described' 
beforehand in the Old Testament, under the same 
character of a priest, and an expiatory vicTiM."t 
In 1819, Dr. Channing and many of his brethren 
seem to have still regarded the death of Christ as i 
some way vicarious, though other Unitarians hai 
then come to a different conclusion. " We have no 
desire," he said in his sermon at Baltimore, " to con- 
ceal the faci, that a difference of opinion exists among 



< 



ha/BM 
no^ 
on- 
ong 

(us, in regard to an interesting part of Christ's media-^J 
tion ; I mean in regard to the precise influence of hilM 
death on our forgiveness. Some suppose that this ' 
event contributes to our pardon, as it was a principal 
means of confirming his religion, and of giving it a 
power over the mind \ in other words, that it pro- J 

* Remarks on Dr. Worcealer's Secoad Letter, pp. 17, 13. !■ 

^^^^^^Analogj, partii. cliup. v. aect. 0. .^^^B 



69 

cures forgiveness by leading to that repentance and 
virtue, which is the great and onlj condition on 
which forgiveness is bestowed. Many of us are dis- 
satisfied with this explanation, and think that the 
Scriptures ascribe the remission of sins to Christ's 
death with an emphasis so peculiar, that we ought to 
consider this event as having a special influence in 
removing punishment, as a condition or method of 
pardon, without which repentance would not avail us, 
at least to the extent which is now promised by the 
Gospel."* But in 1826, Dr. Channing and his 
brethren generally, have concluded that the doctrine 
of an infinite atonement does infinite wrong to the 
divine mercy, and that the sufferings and death of 
Christ have no meritorious influence on our pardon. 
^' I know," says he, in the discourse before us, pp. 
47, 48, ^' that some will say, that in giving up an in- 
finite atonement I deprive myself of all hope of 
divine favor. To such I would say. You do infinite 
wrong to God's mercy." And p. 41, ^' Trinitarian- 
ism obscures God's mercy, by the manner in which 
it supposes pardon to be communicated. It teaches 
that God remits the punishment of the offender, in 
consequence of receiving an equivalent from an inno- 
cent person ; that the sufferings of the sinner are re- 
moved by a full satisfaction made to divine justice in 
the sufferings of a substitute." ^< And is mercy, 
which means free and undeserved love, made more 
manifest, more resplendent by the introduction of 
merit and right as the ground of our salvation f 
Could a surer expedient be invented for obscuring 
itsfreeness ? " And in a note appended to the dis- 




70 



course, lie says, that, while he has " not uudertukei 
to state the way or method hy wlucli Christ's suffer- 
ings conlrihute to human sal v a lion, on " which 
" point there is a diversity of opinion," he has atate^ 
*' the general principle in which Unitarian Christia|i 
agree." 

In 1808, Dr. Channing believed and preached ttu) 
doctrine of the endless punishment of the wicked^ 
The minister, he then said, " sees immortal being 
committed to his care, advancing with rapid steps | 
the brink of an abyss from which they are never | 
arise. And can he be unconcerned ? Can he rea| 
of that fire which is never quenched, of that worq 
which never dies ; and yet see, without emotion, fe^ 
low beings, with whom he sustains the tenderefl 
connexions, hastening forward to this indescribafali| 
ruin ? My Christian brethren ! when we look 
the people of our charge, can we hope that every so^ 
is safe ? that the sigh of acceptable penitence has a 
cended from every heart ? Are none living withw 
God ? And is it not a thought unutterably affecting] 
that these are all trembling on the verge of the gravej 
that soon, very soon, one or another will be forevi 
removed from the reach of our warning voice, to res 
ceive an irreversible sentence from the righteotif 
Judge f Negligent minister, look forward to th« 
tribunal of God. Behold a human being there cos^ 
demned, whom thy neglect has helped to destroy.^ 
"Need I describe to you his,'' the negligent miuiS' 
(er's, " anguish on that day, which will prove him a 
false, heartless minister of Jesus Christ, which shall 
discover to hioi many souls lost through his neglect, 
r which the searching eyes of Jesus sUaVV he fixed 



71 

on bim with righteous indignatiou, in which he shall 
hear the voice of the Saviour saying to him, ' Behold the 
inestimable souls for which my blood was shed, which 
I committed to your care, but which your negligence 
has helped to destroy. Depart, with themj far from 
me, into everlasting fire.' Oh, scene of agony ! Let 
us, my friends, hold it to our minds, till it shall have 
exerted its fiiU power. '^ The same views, substan- 
tially, we are warranted in asserting, were at that 
time entertained by most Congr^ational ministers in 
this region. But in 1819, Dr. Channing, speaking 
in the name of Unitarians, said, <^ We agree in reject- 
ing '* the doctrine, *^ that a single transgression merits 
the eternal pains of hell," and that '< an infinite pe- 
nalty is due from every human being. "f And in 
1826, he employed, in relation to this subject, in the 
discourse before us, the following language : *^ We 
find Trinitarianism connecting itself with a scheme of 
administration exceedingly derogatory to the divine 
character. It teaches that the offences of a short 
life, though begun and spent under this disastrous 
influence," the influence of depravity, ^^ merit eiuJ- 
less punishment. ^^ p. 26. " We object to Trinita- 
rianism that it obscures, if it does not annul, the 
mercy of God. . • • Mercy to the sinner is the prin- 
ciple of love or benevolence in its highest form ; and 
surely this cannot be expected from a being who 
brings us into existence burdened with hereditary 
guilt, and who threatens with endless punishment and 
wo the heirs of so frail and feeble a nature." pp. 40, 
41. " The horrible thought, of a large proportion of 

* Sermon at Codman's ordioatioD, pp. 16, 17, 19, SO. 
t See Bi4tiiiiore germoii, p. 34. 




72 

our fellow creatures being cast, by an angry God in- 
to tortures unutterable by human tongue, and sen- 
tenced to spend eternity in shrieks of agony, whicli 
never reach the ear or touch the heart of their Cre- 
ator ; this dreadful anticipation, which would shroud 
the universe in more than sepulchral gloom, and 
enough to break every heart which is not stone, tkii 
forms no part of our conception of the purposes ai 
government of the God and Father of Jesus Christ.", 
p. 54. And as to the sentiments of Unitarians gen- 
erally on this important point, we are assured from thi 
highest authority, that, "If by ' everlasting punish- 
ment' is meant the ' proper eternity of hell torments,*, 
it is a doctrine which most Unitarians of the present, 
day concur in rejecting ; some understanding by that, 
everlasting destruction to which the wicked are to 
be consigned, an absolute annihilation ; others con* 
ceiving of their sufferiugs as consequential, and inde- 
finite as to their duration ; and others, that all puD- 
ishment will be necessarily remedial, and will end at. 
last in a universal restoration to goodness and haj 
piuess."" 

VI. Most of the reasoninos employed by thb 

AUTHOR of this DI3COCR3E IN FAVOR OF HIS OWN 
3ENTIMENT3 AND AGAINST TrINITARIANISM, MIGHT, 
WITH EQUAL PERTINENCY, BE EMPLOYED BY A DeIST 
OF THE CLASS WHICH ACKNOWLEDGED A FUTCRF. 
STATE, IN FAVOR OF HIS SENTIMENTS, AND AGAINST 
THE DOCTRINES OF EVANGELICAL CHRISTIANITY. 

Deists, says Leland, *' are classed by some of 
their own writers, into two sorts, mortal aud immor- 
tal Deists. The latter acknowledge a future state ; 

* ChriGtian Diuiple, Nen Scncs, vnl. ui. p. 4.SI. 



1 



78 

the former deny it, or at least represent it as a very 
uncertain thing/'* The latter of these professed to 
believe, *' that there is one eternal, infinite, intelligent, 
all-powerful, and wise being, the creator, preserver, 
and governor of all things ; that this supreme cause 
is a being of infinite justice, goodness, and truth, and 
all moral as well as natural perfections ; that he 
made the world for the manifestation of his power 
and wisdom, and to communicate his goodness and 
happiness to his creatures ; that he preserves it by 
his continual, all-wise providence, and governs it ac- 
cording to the eternal rules of infinite justice, equity, 
goodness, mercy, and truth ; that all created, rational 
beings, depending continually upon him, are bound 
to adore, worship, and obey him, to praise him for 
all things they enjoy ; and to pray to him for every 
thing they want ; that they are obliged to promote, 
in their proportion, and according to the extent of 
their several powers and abilities, the general good 
and welfare of those parts of the world wherein they 
are placed ; that in like manner as the divine good- 
ness is continually promoting the universal benefit of 
the whole, men, in particular, are every where obliged 
to make it their business, by an universal benevo- 
lence, to promote the happiness of all others ; • . • . 
and that, according as men regard or neglect these 
obligations, so they are proportionably acceptable or 
displeasing unto God, who, being supreme Governor 
of the world, cannot but testify his favor or displea- 
sure at some time or other ; and, consequently, since 
this is not done in the present state, there must be a 
future state of rewards and punishments in a life to 

* View of the Deistical Writers, I^et. 1. 

10 




uomu."* They denied the doctrines of the Triaity, 
depravity, regeneration, atonement, and eternal pun- 
ishment, and the inspinition of the Scriptures, and 
held, that reason is to bu our guide in matters o( re- 
ligion, and tliat pardon and eternal life are to be ob- 
tallied by repentance merely, and admitted that the 
Bible inculcates an excellent system of morals, and 
that Jesus Christ was a person of singular virtue and 
benevolence.f 

Now let us suppose a Deist of this class to un- 
derstand the doctrines of Evan<>;etical Christianity as 
Dr. Channing has represented them iu this discourse, 
and to attempt to show the "superior tenden<;y " of 
his own system " to form an elevated religious char- 
acter." And suppose him to allege in support of this 
claim the following arguments.J 1- Deism " is a 
system most favorable to piety, because it presents 
(o the mind one, and only one Infinite Person, to whom 
supreme homage is to be paid," and thus " condenses 
the impressions and emotions of piety into one glow- 
ing thought, one thrilling love." But Evangelical 
Christianity, by " scattering the attention among 
three equal persons, impairs the power of each," aud 

* Dr. Samuel Clarke's " Discourse of the unchacg'eitblc oblig'slioa of 
Natural Religion, and Ihe truth and certainly of (li» Christian Revela- 
lion," M quoted in Tindal's *' Christianilj us old aa the Creation," 

■f This is, in substance, the sjslem maintaiued bj-Tindal in the work 
just referrGd lo. Wc have ourselves formerly, ivhea tlis avonal nT 
deiiUcaJ principles wa^ less disrepulabio than at present, knowa indi- 
viduals irlio professed (heKo sentiments, and sljled tbcinselves Immortal 
Deists. 

JTber* is lierc, llie reader will perceive, no ground for the remark, 
oflCD made bj UnitariaDs. Ihat ■ Deists ohjeet lo the inspiration uf Uie 
Scriptures only because they have been led to suppose iLat ihe Bible 
cvntains the irrational doclrinei which Ihe OrUjodux profess lo found 
on ita testimony i' for it is not a^aiust the inspiration of the Scriplures, 
that we. in this case, suppose Uie Deist to argue, but of^insl Ihe doc- 
trine* tAentfeJvci of Evangelical Chrisliaos as aOccling human cUarac- 
. ter. 



i 



75 

thus weakens the impressions and emotions of piety. 
2. Deism " is the system most favorable to piety, be- 
cause it holds forth, and preserves inviolate, the spi- 
rituality of God :" while " the direct influence of" 
Evangelical Christianity, by its doctrine of incarna- 
tion, must be '* to materialize men's conceptions of 
God." 3. Deism ^^ is a system most favorable to 
piety, because it presents a distinct and intelligible 
object of worship:" Evangelical Christianity, '^on 
the other hand, is a riddle ;" its ^^ one God consisting 
of three persons is a being so incongruous, so con- 
tradictory, that he cannot be apprehended with that 
distinctness, and that feeling of reality, which belong 
to the opposite system." 4. Deism ^' promotes a 
fervent and enlightened piety, by asserting the abso- 
lute and unbounded perfection of God's character." 
But Evangelical Christianity ^^ has a fatal tendency 
to degrade the character of the Supreme being ; by 
multiplying divine persons, and thus taking from each 
the glory of independent, all-sufficient, absolute per- 
fection ; by laying its disciples under the necessity of 
making such a distribution of offices and relations 
among the three persons as will serve to designate and 
distinguish them, thus interfering with the sublime 
conception of one Infinite Person in whom all glo- 
ries are concentred ; and by connecting itself with a 
scheme of administration exceedingly derogatory to 
the divine character," teaching that men are by na- 
ture entirely depraved, and that the wicked will be 
doomed to endless punishment. 5. Deism ^^ is pecu- 
liarly favorable to piety, because it accords with 
nature, which, the more it is explored, teaches one 
Father." But Evangelical ChristvAUit^ ^^Va^ cwv- 
£ned system, shut up in a few wriUeu Wne^^^'* fexflii 



k: 



76 

in a single volume called the BiWe, while " nature 
.gives it not a whisper of evidence." 6. Deism, 
;" teaching, as it does, the same God with nature, fa- 
*vors piety by opening the mind to new and ever en- 
ifcrging views of God." Evangelical Christianity, 
on the olhor hand, tends to confine the mind, to 
,§hut it up in what is written, to diminish its interest 
I the universe," and, by the gloomy doctrines before 
lentioned, " to throw gloom over God's works." 
,7. Deism " promotes piety by the high place which 
;it assigns to piety in the character and work of Jesua 
/Christ," whom it allows to have been an eminent ' 
pattern of virtue, and a teacher deserving a high re- 
jgard. It makes piety or virtue " his prominent and 
crowning attribute." But "on the supposition of 
the supreme divinity of Jesus, his piety " or virtue 
** is a subordinate and incongruous attribute." " Our ' 
views of Jesus Christ are also more interesting thaa 
.those of " Evangelical Christians; for, "according 
to " Deism, " he is a being who may be understood, 
flne mind, one conscious nature ;" but " according to 
the opposite faith, he is an inconceivable compound of 
two most dissimilar minds, joining in one person a 
finite and inhnite nature, a soul weak and ignorant, 
and a soul almighty and omniscient." 8. Deism "pro- 
motes piety by meeting the wants of man asa sinner." 
This it does, by the " assurances " it gives him "of 
mercy in his Creator," the " pledges " it affords 
*' tliat God is love in its purest form, that is, that He 
is goodness so disinterested, free, full, strong, and 
immutable, that the ingratitude and disobedience of 
his creatures cannot overcome it," that he will pardon 



77 

tbem simply on the ground of repentance, and will 
ultimately bring them all to eternal happiness in 
heaven. But Evangelical Christianity ^* obscures, if 
it does not annul, the mercy of God. This it does 
in various ways. It gives, as we have already seen, 
such views of God's government, that we can hardly 
conceive of this attribute as entering into his character. 
It teaches that God remits the punishment of the offen- 
der, in consequence of receiving an equivalent from 
an innocent person, and thus, investing the Saviour 
with a claim of merit, with a right to the remission 
of the sins of his followers," it utterly precludes the 
exercise of mercy in pardoning them, for ^^ mercy 
means free and undeserved love." If it be said that 
the £vangelical system magnifies God's mercy, be- 
cause it teaches that he himself provided the substi- 
tute for the guilty, I reply, that the work here 
ascribed to mercy is not, ^^ in my view, the most 
appropriate, nor most fitted to manifest it and impress 
it on the heart." And to the plea, that Evangelical 
Christianity, by '^ providing an infinite substitute for 
the sinner, is peculiarly fitted to gi?e peace and hope, 
and consequently to promote gratitude and love," I 
reply, ^' first, this doctrine of infinite satisfaction sub- 
verts, instead of building up, hope, because it argues 
infinite severity in the government whieh requires it," 
and, secondly, '^ when examined minutely, and freed 
from ambiguous language, it vanishes into air," for ^^ it 
was only the human body and soul of Christ that bore 
the suffering for our sins." 9. Deism " promotes piety, 
because it is a rational religion. It is a religion coin- 
cident with reason." But the Evangelical system, 
*' contradicts and degrades reason, and tSiius ex^^^^ 




the mind to the worst delusions." — Suppflse a Deis 
of the class above descril>ed tints to reason ; wouK 
not all his arguments be in consistency with his priiH 
ciples ? But they arc the argnments, and nearly al 
the arguments, employed in this discourse, and hai^T^^ 
been stated mostly in the very words of the discourjw 
Indeed, if any one will keep in mind the principle 
of the class of Deisis referred to. and read the dift" 
course throughout, substituting Deism for Uiiitariail* 
ism wherever the latter occurs, he will find, two 
three passages excepted, no inconsistency or inapprc 
priaieness of reasoning. 

There are, moreover, several instances of a siiigii^ 
lar coincidence in the mode of representation, and { 
expression in this discourse, and in the statements 
and reasoning of certain Deistical writers, in relatioft 
to the doctrines of evangelical Christianity. 

DrBTicAL Writers. Dr. Chahhing's Discourse. 

The Scriplurti. 

" I do nol assert that Ood has made -*' TrinitBriBuism reveals a Qi _ 

no (ilfaer ratelallon of himself and bis nliom we qichI no where iii tbe ui^ 



will t( 












:ribcd < 
, not bo 
uniling and n 



sucii, the original and unlvenni reiv- 

latioi) miisl be (he foundntloD and 

criterion of them all." Bolingbiokc's 

Work*, vol. vili. p. 440. Lond. edil. 

1B09. " How cua wc affirm any one 

Ihiog in revelalion lo be true, until 

«r» peraeive, i>y that underMnocIinj 

iwhlch God hflth given iia lo discern 

the truth of Ihipgs, whether or nol II 

agrees nilli (he inniulflble law o[ reason." p. 49. 

reaHin." Tiridal, Chrlslliinily as old 

as (lie Creation ; chap. xi. 

Trinity. 
iqual iiertont in one " One God 



The 



sun nnd stars *ay nothing of 
of three persons. They all spsabd 
the One Falher whom we adora. 
Three Diiinc Pereons are found onlf 
in a few te«t5. IValure gives then, 
nol a whisper of evidence." pp. SB, 
29. Unilarianism is " a religion eo- 
incident with reason :" but •' Trinl^ 
iarianisui contnulicls and degrat^ 



. "The three CO 

Godhead, which 

prehend, which no revelation affiro 

eiplicltly." BoUnsbroWe, vol v. 

67. "There arf, indeed, Bmong 

maliiiude of va^ueand obscure e^ 



iia[ing of ihreo per- 
sons is so misty, ao incongriioos, so- 
uontmdictory, tbat he cannot be ap- 
prehended Willi tbat dislincluess, bihI 



79 

DciSTicAL Writers. Dr. Channikg's Discourse. 

pressioDs in the books of the Old nituianism is shut np in a few teits^ 

Testament, some that seem to inti- where many of the wisest minds have 

mate a plurality of divioe bein^ and failed to discover it ; a few texts so 

tliese have been hauled to signify the dark, that the gifted minds of Milton, 

Christian Trinity, though they were Newton, and Locke could not find 

too equivocal SLod too dariL to serve them there. " pp. 28, 29. " Its three 

the purpose of leading men to discov- persons who constitute its God, must 

er it." vol. vii. p. 63. *' It was im- either be frittered away into three 

possible to show by any subtility of unmeaning distinctions, info sounds 

logic, that this doctrine was not poly- signifying nothing, or they are three 

theistical. There remained, there- conscious agents, who cannot, by any 

ton, nothing to be done but to make human art or metaphysical device, be 

a mjrstery where they found none ; made to coalesce into one being.** 

and, having decreed that there are p. 49. " Men call it *' Trinitarianism, 

three Gods, to decree at the same *^ a mvstery *, but it is mysterious, not 

time, that there is but one ; for so like the great truths of religion, by its 

the Athaoasian doctrine must sound vastness and grandeur, but by the ir- 

to every nan who does not compre- reconcilable ideas which it involves." 

hend (asd that is every man living,) *' Such a heterogeneous being, who 

all the profound metaphysics that is at the sane moment one and many, 

have been employed to distinguish is certainly the most puzsling and 

awav the apparent contradiction, un- distracting object ever presented to 

less be gives his understanding up to human thought'* p. 22. 
a jargon of words, and can fancy he 
believes without any clear and dis- 
tinct ideas." vol. vii. p. 98. 

Law of God. 

" The laws referred to," the laws <* Did I believe what Trinitarianism 

of Moses, '* and written in blood, like teaches, I should feel myself living 

those of Draco." Bolingbroke, vol. under laws written, like Draco's, in 

vii. p. 607. blood." p. 44. 

Fall and Depravity of Man. 

" Where is the difference in relation ** We find Trinitarianism connect- 
to the goodness of God and the hap- ing itself with a scheme of adminis- 
piness of mankind, between God's tration exceedingly derogatory to the 
creating them in a state of universal divine character. It teaches that the 
degeneracy and corruption ; or caus- Infinite Father saw fit to put into the 
in£ them, by the folly of Adam, which hands of our first parents the charac- 
infinite wisdom could not but fore- ter and condition of their whole pro- 
see, to fall unavoidably into this bad geny ; and that, through one act of 
state ?" Tindal, chap. xiv. ^* The disobedience, the whole race bring 
hypothesis of the fall of man will with them into being a corrupt na- 
serve the purpose as little, since it is ture, or are born depraved : and that 
impossible to render that assumed in- man, by the oflfences of a short life, 
duIgvDce of God to the free will of though l>egun and spent under this 
man, which defeated the original de- disastrous mfluencc, is burdened with 
sign of Crod, plunged man into a state a guilt which no suft'erings of the crc- 
ot misery as soon as he was created, ated universe can expiate, which uo- 
aad obliged the divine goodness to thing but the sufferings of an Infinite 
have recourse to the expedient of a Being can purge away." pp. 26, 27. 
redemption by the hood of his Son, — Thus " Trinitarianism obscures, if it 
since it is impossible, 1 say, to render does not annul, the mercy of God. 
this agreeable to our ideas of good- It places man on the ground of an 
ness, or even of wisdom." Boling- injured being. The wrong lies on 
broke, vol. viii. pp. 225, 226. the side of the Creator." pp. 40, 41. 

JItonement, 

<* Gould these " the ancient "phi- '^ Trinitarianism o\>sc\i\«% Vko^'^ 

losophers conceive that a/I wa§ mere mercy, by loacUvn^ xYi^X i^o^ t«\a\NA 



Dkisticai. WniTERB. 
marcy, and pura forelveiieM, after a 
full eqaivelcnt )»i(i, »nd adequnle 
>nli;fiio|]ot> given ?" Tindil, clia|>, 
liv, "IVolhing in tta« renson o[ the 
Ihin^i nor in the mastsupenlitioug uf 
their prcjiLilieet, Goutd Irad th'ru," 
■be [DobI ignaraiit Ktid snviEe of Che 
■ncienl heathen, 




Iher ihould l« 









iliiy t 






condeiGeniina in nnolher, i 
him submit tube ifais dirine victim . 
They could not imagine iiiiy thing to 
repugaant aa thii lo ail their idau of 
order, df juilice, of goodness." Bol- 
infibroke, vol. viii. pp. 126, 137. 
" Chriilian theology ditcoreri io this 
myitarioui procesdini, the love of 
God lo man, liii inlinile jualice and 
But reawn will discover" 
t chamcler in Ihe whole 
proceeding. " This justice will ap- 
pear injusticBi in all llie circumitan- 
cei of the fall, and in the redemplion 
of man by the propitiatory ■aerifice 
nf an innuuent person. This good- 
nru will appear cruelly, when il is 
enniidered that the propitiation wa* 
mnde by tonnenlinic and spilling the 
blood of the victim." vol. riii. p. 423. 
Etiraal Fi 
" WMb what front 
tliBie divines insiGt o 
renions Ihey bring I 
elemily of lonnenti lo the Modneaa 
and )uslii;e of an all pcrTert Boiii;; ?" 
Solinahroke, vol. vlii. p, 3S1. "H 
we rpjecl (liis dnclrino, lu I think we 
aught 10 do with homr." p. 397. 
" By some suoh hypolheiis ihey en- 
deavored (o luften ■ doctrine, thai 
■hoclced llieir reason, and could nol 
be recoticiled nllfa any moral altri- 
bnta, no, nor to the physical aitri- 
biile) of (lod, not to bis wisdom, at 
least Bui the general tide of artiS- 
cial theology run Ihe other «-ny, and 
ind dogmalieal alDrmalion es- 



Cr. CtUMitite's DiicoviiaE. 
the panishment of lbs offender, in 
conH(|uence of receiving an equiva- 
Inn) from an innocent person; thai 
tbe (ufferings of the lini 
moved by a full salisfBclii 
divine jintice in tbe sufferings c 
jubslitulc." p. 41. " This doctrine . 
■n infinile ■aliafBC^n subverts, ■■ 
slead of building up hope, becaasBfl 
argues infinite severity in Ihego ^"^ 

what TrinHerhiniini leaches. 
Ihe least IransgreMion would bo ft 
milled irilbnut an infinite etptai'MJ 
I should feel myself living <ind^4 
legiglnlion unspeakably dreadflil, tr 
instead of thanking the sovereign |L 
providing an infinile aiibsllltile, I 
should shudder al Ihe attribuleaw" ' 
render this ei|iodient neeesMry. 
who framed all snuls, and gave It 
their suiceplibi lilies, ought nol tc 
thought ao wanting in goodness M 
wiadom, as to have constituted ■ n^ 
verse which d'mnnda lo dnMdfal M 
degrading a metliud of enforcl 
obedience na the penal sufferings al 
Cod." p. 44. 



II the trifling 



fathers and 



lablished absurd'ily 
Ibey had dune in mniiy. 
CDUvils decieed, and Cnnsimns uv- 
liftved, that tbe Supreme Being dooms 
almnil nil his ralinual crealures, all 
whom these men do nol think (It la 
save, lo eternal torments for what 
Ihey have done in this life." p. 407. 



"We find 
ing ilsflf with a scheme uf adminl 
tralion, eiceedingly derogatory to' " 
divine chnracler. It teachei that L_ 
oHnncos of a ahorf life merit endlal 
punishment, and that God' 
threalens tliii infinits penalty." p. 2«. 
" The horrible thought of a large pro- 
portion of our fellow orealures being 
cast by an angry God into lortar«t 
unullerable by human tongue, and 
sentenced to spend elemily in Khrieh" 
of agony which will never reach 
ear or touch the heart of their Ci 
tor; this drendf 111 anticipation, 
would shroud the universe in 
tlian sepulcbml gloom, and ia enough 
to bfealt every heart wMeh I* not 
stone, this forms no part of our cod- 
cejilion of the purpows and Roveni- 
meni of Ihe tiod and father of JewU 



riVlcJ 




81 
Vli. This mscoursk is of grbat talce as a 

DSTELOPEBENT OF UnITARIAN1SM« It IS of tke Ut- 

Mist importance that the distinctive features of a le^- 
Kgiovs sjTslem, which claims to be the true system, 
mai mmn to supplant every otheri should be clearly 
exhibited^ that its pretensions may be fairly invest!^ 
ga^ed mad miderstandingly admitted or rejected. For 
a long time this was a desideratum in respect to Uni'^ 
larianism in this country. As we have already heard 
bM of its distinguished advocates assert, previously 
to 1815, '* though Boston was full of Unitarian sen- 
itoent and feeling, there was no open profession of 
it A dead silence was maintained in the pulpit on 
doctrinal snbjectsy— « silence which was not disturb- 
ed by the press." And another witness of the high- 
est ered%ility said, in relation to the same period^ of 
himself and his brethren of the Unitarian clergy then 
in Boston^ ** We seldom or never refer to any diflfer* 
ent sentiments, embraced by other Christians, on the 
natmre of God or of Jesus Christ." ^^ Many of us 
have bemi disinclined, not only to assail systems 
which we do not believe, but even to enforce the 
views we have given of the rank and character o( 
Jesus Christ." ** We urge perpetually those great 
truths and precepts about whick there is little con- 
tenlton, and which have an immediate bearing on the 
temper and life."* In 1815 commenced the Unica- 
mn controversy. But the advocates of Unitarian- 
ism still concealed, as much as possible, its dbtinct- 
ive features, and exerted all their ingenuity and elo- 
i^ence in attempting to make and continue the im- 

* Rer. WiDfan E. C%uioio^'i Letter to the Rar. 8. C. Thatcher, 
pp. 13, 16. 

11 




pressioii, tbat there was no material difi'drence be- 
tween tlieni ;iii(l ilie Ortlioitox. This policy was 
pursued till 1819, when tlie Ballimotu sermon was 
preached and published hy Dr. Cliauniug; one of th4 
avowed objecta of which was, to exhil»it those features 
-of doctrine " which distinguish Unitarians most wide? 
J^ from others. " From that time, the publications 
and discourses of Unitarians have been constantly 
tassuming a more definite character, avowing witb 
greater distinctness the reality, and stating with 
greater precision the particulars of, a wide diQertince 
between the two systems. At length the individual 
of, perhaps, the highest standin;; among the Uuitariaa 
clergy, has come before the public with a formal 
comparison of the doctrines of the two systems as to 
their tendency. IJe moreover professes to speak in 
the name of Unitarians as a religious sect, in thift 
country ; and his production, though, as we have beea 
informed, oti many accounts disapproved by not a 
few individuals commonly classed with the Unitari- 
ans, has received the unqualified approbation of every 
Unitarian publication by which it has been noticed. 
Jt may, therefore, be regarded as making a fair and 
an authorized exhibition of the real character of Uni- 
tariauism as now existing in this couiitrv- And what 
are its prominent features as here exhibited ? i 

1. Its spirit is the very reverse of the meekness in 
which those set for the defence of the Gospel are di- 
rected to instruct the opposcrs of the truth.* While 
the distinguishing characteristics of Unitarianism 
were carefully concealed by those who had embraced 
its doctrines, great forbearance and gentleness to- 
• -i Tim. ii. 95. 



88 

wards the advocates of q)po8ite sentiments were exr 
bibited. ^^ Our metbod is,." said Dr. Cbanning in 
18159 *^ to state wiiat we conceive to be more bon*^' 
orable, and ennobling, and encouraging views of 
God's character and government, and to leave these 
to have their effect, without holding up other Chris- 
tians to censure or contempt. We esteem it a solemn 
duty, to disarm, instead of exciting, the bad passions 
of our people. We wish to promote among them a 
spirit ci universal charity. We wish to make them 
condemn their own bad practices, rather than the er-^ 
roneous speculations of their neighbour. We love 
them too sincerely to imbue them with the spirit of 
controversy."* How different from this is the aim, 
and the spirit, of not a small proportion of Unitarian 
preaching, even on the Sabbath, at the present time, 
those, of our readers who attend on the ministrations 
of Unitarian clergymen need not be informed. How 
different, how opposite, are the aim and the spirit of 
the ^scourse before us, has been seen in the quota- 
tions made under our first head of remark. Just in 
proportion as Unitarianism has exhibited itself more 
distinctly, have its advocates manifested increased 
bitterness of spirit, till at length, when concealment 
is expressly and entirely disclaimed. Dr. Cbanning 
writes, and preaches, and publishes the sentences and 
paragraphs which have been noticed as marring the 
pages of this discourse ! Is that the system of reli- 
gion taught in the New Testament, which, the more 
distinctly it developes itself, exhibits greater bitter- 
ness of spirit ? 
2. Unitarianism, if we may trust to the develope- 

• Letter to IXer. S. C. Thacher, pp, 14^ \%. 



\ 



imnt mndn-tn this discourse, rtists, in no inconsidentfale 
(It'grrf, for su[i|>nri, upon niisrepresenlalions of the 
Bpntiments of Trinitarians. Erroneous represen- 
(HlinnMof thn doctrines of the Orthodox have often 
licrn ('hiirgod upon (Jnitnrian writers. Iq proof 
of iho justico of this cliargc, onr readers are reler- 
wd to Dr. Womls's Letters to Unitarians, Dr. 
Miller's Letters on Unitarianism, the Review of 
Nortnirs Views of Calvinism in the Cbrtstiaw 
S|)(Ttntor for 1823, p. 196, the second e(littoV| 
of ihm Review of the lief. Mr. Colman's Sew 
mon* writlcH by the Ker, Eltas Cornelius, and Dsl 
Bcrclier's Reply to die Review of his sernioa 
Worcestrr. We haTc read most of the controversial 
mibliralioiis of l<n)Unans in this couoirr, and beard 
aomc of iheir milliliters preacli controversial discours- 
ts« Aim! wo tlelibenilely aHirm, that, from neither of 
ibeM sotirres, have wc ever received any ihiog like « 
tomct rrpirseniation of the seatiawnts of the Ortho- 
dcot. It hns tnorrover. as maar of our readers wtU 
Trcollwl. br^n a fart of fr«-«fueoi occarrescc of lata 
iu UivMou, thai persons who bRTc deriTetl tbetr riewa 
ot' Unkiodox (^HiiMHtt fiocn Cnitarisa niitets amA 
pm^^mim, sAar Iwriag a mim n ter oS samduCf wkoae 
MMrilNMO WM« CatnMtic, prcadi a dorus^ 4i»- 



I 




—mil 1 1 •MOT««aNb> vickW h Ati^tf 




im <to what they may, and the rest will ceitaiw* 

ly be damned let them do what they may ; that God 
the Father is a being without mercy, independentlf 
of the atonement of Christ, which has purchased or 
awakened his compassion for the elect only ; that 
those who have been justified by the righteousness of 
Christ are released from obligation to obey the law of 
Cod ; that eternal punishment is threatened and cxtn 
cuted merely from a vindictive spirit of anger against 
ihe transgressor, and is inflicted on muttitudes of 
infants who died before they were moral agentn 
We ask those of our readers who have been coii4 
versant with Unitarian publications and attend oA 
Unitarian preaching, if these are not, in substance, 
the views of Calvinism which have been constantly 
set before them. But they are not, any of themi 
doctrines of Calvinism. By the great body of Cal- 
vinists they are abhorred as strongly, and opposed as 
strenuously, as they can be by Unitarians. And io 
this discourse, which has been pronounced by the 
Unitarian periodicals, the most thorough exhibition 
and vindication of Unitarianism that has been pub*- 
lished in this country, the argument is to such ait 
extent built on misrepresentations of the opposite 
faith, that, if this portion of the foundation were re- 
moved, the whole fabric would fall to (he ground. 
Can that system be true, which is always found re- 
sorting, and seems compelled to resort, to such means 
of support ? 

^ Unitarianism, as developed hi this discourse, b^ 
proaches, in point of doctruie, very near to the mors 
sober kind of Deism. We have, in a former part of 



< 



i 



» 



this review, compared the reasoning employed in tb^ 
diseoiirBC with that which might, with consistency, 
be employed by a Ueist of the class which acknowl- 
0d(^ed a fiitnre state. The comparison was instituted,- 
Rot for the purpose of fixing upon Dr. Channtng and 
(he opinions he advocates an odious name. We ut- i 
torlv disclaim so unworthy a motive. Our object i 
Was to assist our readers to form a correct estimate 
of ihe rharacter of the reasoning by which he has 
mnintaiiied those opinions. And the result of the 
Oomparison is, that nearly every argument employed 
by Ur. Chanuing has been, or might, with equal per- 
lioeDoy, have been employed by more sober Deists. 
Uoilurianism, as exhibited in this discourse, and 
Deism of the kind referred to, oppose the Evangelical 
system, and defend, cuch its own, bv the same 
course of reasoniag. They cannot, then, we should 
be inclined to suspect, be widely ditierent from 
each other. And such we find to be ibe fact, 
ttpnii an exauiinatioii of their respective doctrines. 
J}eisni of the species described, taught, that God is 
one, nnd oidy one la&nile Person, possessing all 
mtural and moral perfet-tions ; and so does CoiUH 
riauiisiu us exhibited in this discourse. Deism laugbt, 
ibat rcastiu is our idtimaie s^uide in matters of r^t- 
gioa. lis advocates moimaiined, thai if a writtea 
nvelMioa were givtm. its iiuttruciiaiK must be re- 
gw M as subonlinate lo (hose ol' the li:;hi of mtme, 
tbefirai ■ad imtvoml revrkKton ol iiod to men. And 
UoHMfiMiBW M now behl w tbb cottntrr, iboi^ it 
ncMTos Um Bible ns nn outbeMic mrmmt of f 
Rvefcuiaas wbicbGod ims nado to mm. i 




87 

require that its iiistruotioDS be regarded as subordi- 
nate to those of nature. Deism denied the doctrines 
of the Trinity, depravity, regeneration* justification 
by the merits of Christ, and eterncU punishment ; and 
so does Unitarianism as exhibited in this discourse. 
Deism, of the species referred to, asserted the obliga- 
tion of men to lead virtuous and pious lives, and the 
certainty of a future retribution, and acknowledged 
Jesus Christ to have been a person of singular virtue, 
whose instructions wc ought to regard, and whose 
example we should carefully imitate ; and so does 
Unitarianism as exhibited in this discourse. The 
only points of difference which can be supposed to be 
of any consequence, are the admission, by Unitarian- 
ism, of a degree of authority in the Bible, as a 
standard of faith and practice, and a belief in the 
Messiahship of Jesus Christ, and in the resurrection 
of the body. And yet these differences, upon exami- 
nation, almost entirely disappear. The truth of the 
doctrines of the resurrection of the body, and of 
Jesus of Nazareth being the Messiah predicted in the 
Old Testament, depends exclusively upon the au- 
thority of the Scriptures. But the testimony of 
Scripture, according to what we have seen to be the 
present views of leading Unitarians, as well as 
according to those of the class of Deists referred to, 
is to bow to the testimony of reason. But the reason 
of the Deist testifies, tliat the resurrection of the 
body, and inspiration enabling men to predict future 
contingent events, are absurd and impossible. He is 
therefore, according to the principles of Unitarianism 
as now held in this country, authorized and bound to 
reject those doctrines. And thus the two sn^X^\:cv& 



m 

become almost entirely coincident.* Is that ilie 
Christian system whicli is so nearly the same with 
the more sober species of Deism ? 



I 



In conclusion, we request lite reader carefully to 
examine, and seriously to consider, the statements 
made in the preceding pages ; and then, as a believe 
in revelation, as a lorer of his country, as an heir of 
immortality, as a parent, if he be a parent, decide in 
what estimation he shall hold, and what shall be hb 
conduct in regard to, Unttariajiism as oow existing 
among us. 

We say ' as a believer in revelation ;' for we are 
fully persuaded, that, notwithstanding all the efibrts, 
covert and open, which have been made in this coun- 
try, and especially in Boston and the vicinity, to tan 
the descendants of the Puritans from the religious 
principles of their fathers, the great body of the peo- 
ple in New England and in its metropolis still rever- 
ence the Scriptures as the word of God, and tlic 
ultimate and infallible standard of religious trutlt. 
But Unitarianism, in proportion as it has developed 
Itself, has constaotty exhibited less and less respect 
for the simple authority of the Scriptures ; till, it 




4^ndorUwf««tMMho«kMtikadthcp«Ml*etiM. >I 
Mi tab <nlh futlMkr ■ ■i^te—. • U MnkM > hn^ 
CteMM tpMn, tml viU prar* a itdmrt triannh far 
Mim. Fi ni—in '••*-" *- ' J n- 



89 

lengthy it is, — ^rather covertly, indeed^ bat really, — pot 
below the authority of reason. What is ^^ shut up 
in a few written lines," though these lines are in- 
scribed on the pages of the Bible, is of inferior au- 
thority to what is ^^ proclaimed " by the voice of 
«< the outward creation." The Bible is to be regard- 
ed merely as giving an ^^ account of the divine dis- 
pensations ;" and the doctrines which, according to 
its plain and obvious meaning, it seems to teach, are 
to be received or rejected by each individual as they 
shall be approved or disapproved by his reason ; so 
that, in fact, every man's reason is to him, the ulti- 
wuite standard of religious belief, and the Scriptures 
are of but secondary authority ! Reader, do you re- 
spect the Bible ? do you regard it as the word of the 
living God ? Can you, then, adopt, or in any way 
countenance, such a system ? • 

You love your country. You feel that the only 
security, under God, for the preservation of its inval- 
uable institutions, is in the virtue of its citizens. To 
remove the barriers of vice is, in your view, one of 
the most direct and certain means of effecting our 
political ruin, and thus putting out the light of the 
world. But Unitarianism, its ablest advocates have 
told you, in terms not to be misunderstood, holds out 
to all, the assurance, that, however vicious their con- 
duct may be, even to the end of life, they shall ulti- 
mately be delivered from all the injurious consequen- 
ces of their iniquities, either by the termination of 
their existence, or by being fitted for and raised to 
the endless enjoyment of the happiness of heaven ! 
Where would be the salutary influence of an oath, 
where would be the order and morality of out co\iv- 

12 



munity, should this sentimeat become universal ? 
Shall any system which inculcates it, receive from 
you countenance and support ? 

You are an immortal being, soon to stand before 
God in judgment. You are a sinner ; you know 
that this is your character. Unitarianism, as now 
taught among us, you have seen, entirely takes away 
the atonement of Christ as a ground ol" hope of ac- 
ceptance with God, and sends you into his presence, 
to rely solely on your imperfect repentance to pro- 
cure for you forgiveness from the divine mercy ; oa 
your imperfect virtues to obtain for you the reward 
of heaven. God, remember, is infinitely holy ; he 
" cannot look upon iniquity," and " will by no means 
clear the guilty." Imagine yourself, as you may be 
the next moment, summoned before him, to receive 
your final doom ; and decide, whether you can trust 
to such a system the safety of your imperishable 
spirit. 

Perhaps you are a parent. Young immortala, 
whom you love more teaderly than life, have been 
committed to your care, to be formed for society, and 
for eternity. You think, with anxiety, of the temp- 
tations to which they are exposed ; and you feel that 
they need the most powerful moral restraints, to se- 
cure their virtue and respectability and usefulness in 
the present life. And will you educate them in a 
religious system which leaches, that, however they 
may disregard your paternal counsels, and wander 
from the paths of virtue, even till the termination of 
their earthly existence, they shall ultimately receive 
the same endless reward as those who through life 
fear God and do his will ? Your beloved cbildrea, 



I 



I 



91 

as well as yourself, have precious souls, soon to stand 
in judgment before a holy God. And can you teach 
them, or suffer them to be taught, to confide in a re- 
ligious system which forbids them to trust in Christ 
as the propitiatory sacrifice for sin, and directs them 
to hazard their all for eternity upon the claim which 
their goodness can present before the mercy of Je- 
hovah ? 

Lovers of the Bible, lovers of your country, can- 
didates for eternity, fathers and mothers of our future 
citizens and heirs of immortality, think of these 
things. Ponder them in your . hearts. Look up to 
God for wisdom to direct. And then decide, wheth- 
er Unitarianism shall have your confidence and 
support. 






REMARKS 



ON THE 



CHARACTER AND WRITINGS 



or 



JOHN MILTON; 



OCCASIONED BY THE 



PUBLICATION OF HIS LATELY DISCOVERED 



< TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE/ 



By W. E. CHANNING, LL.D. 



SECOND EDITION. 



BOSTON, Printed .—LONDON, Reprinted 

FOR EDWA&D RAIMFORD, 13 RED LION PASSAGE, RED LION SQUARE; 

SOLD ALSO BY R. HUNTER, ST. PAUL's CHURCH-YARD : 

AND ALL OTHER BOOKSELLERS. 

1828. 



[These Remarks appeared anonymously in ''The Christian Exa* 
miner" published at Boston, N. A. They were put into the I'ublisher's 
hands by an American gentleman of this city, who received several 
copies of the i^amphlet freHn Boston t» the woric isf Dr. Channtng.] 



l^inted by Richard Tatloh, 
Red Lion Court, Fleet Street. 



LITERARY NOTICES 
or 

DR. CHANNINCS PUBLICATIONS. 



" Analysis of the Character of Napoleon,** 

" It is refreshing to turn from our state turmoils and anomalies to 
the perusal of the wise and candid estimate of a character which has 
excited the extremes of aversion and admiration — written with that' 
purity and freshness of feelings spirit, and eloquence, that nothing 
but the love of liberty and virtue can so well inspire." — Times, Jan. 
29, 1828. 

" A pamphlet which does honour to the name it bears.*' — London 
Mag. Feb. ]82S. 

'' It is a very clever production, written with considerable eloquence, 
and by one who is evidently capable of looking steadily at the ine* 
qualities in a great man's character, and tracing them, as far as may 
be, to their source." — Athenaum, Feb. 5, 1828. 

" This is a just and admirable appreciation of the character of 
Napoleon. That Dr. Channing is not dazzled by the splendour of 
despotism we are not surprised, since, in his character of Milton, a 
more glorious name than ever belonged to tyrant or satrap, he exhi- 
bited the capacity to comprehend and pourtray the majesty of repub- 
lican virtue. We recommend this pamphlet to the attentive perusal 
of every man in England." — London Weekly Review, Feb. 9, 1828. 

" It is characterized by the same splendour of eloquence, the 
same soundness of judgment, the same nobility of feeling, and the 
same general impartiality for which all his writings are at once so 
conspicuous and so valuable." — Literary Chronicle, Feb. 16, 1828. 

" Dr. Channing is already well known by his eloquent and able 
review of Milton's character and writings ; and the ' Character of 
Napoleon' is executed with equal ability and effect. If our recom* 
mendation be worth any thing at all, let Dr. Channing's analysis be 
carefully re^.** -^Monthly Mag. March, 1828. 

" The tone of Dr. Channing has the calmness of security, the 
earnestness of philanthropic integrity, the chastised confidence of 
intelligence ripened into wisdom -, — it is that of a mind which fears 
nothing but error, suppresses nothing but the promptings of inconsi- 
derate feeling, desires nothing but the good of its kind. This incom- 
parable essay, for the combination of intellectual and moral excellence 
it presents, rises in our estimation immeasurably above any recent 
production in the literature of this countr)'." — Scotsnian. 



I 

I 



" Remarks on the CkaracleT and tf'rilingi of Milton." I 

" Dr. Channing is manifestly a man of considerable discernment 
and eloquent powers, capable of taking comprehensive views, and of 
conveying them distinctly and fully to his readers. He is no common 
person, and we welcome his writings to this side of the Atlantic. 
Every one who reads the Edinburgh, must liave been pleased with 
Macauley's Article on Milton ; the present ia superior, as it is more 
complete ; it gives a more elevated and inspiring view of his charac- 
ter."— Jtfon/A/y May.JV. S. Sept. 1826. 

"This is a clever pamphlet, and one which does credit to the taste 
of those concerned in introducing it to English readers, Milton's 
character and writings are ably and impartially examined, and the 
Bpirit and tendency of his productions jKtwerfully developed. Indeed, 
we have rarely seen so much important and v.iluiible information and 
comment crowded into so small a space. Dr. ChannJng commences 
with a consideration of Milton's poetical genius, and in asserting his 
dignity as h poet, enters into so glowing and eloquent a description 
of poetry itself, that we cannot forbear extracting it." — Literary, i 
Vhronkle,Sept. 1826. ' 



in of sound judgment and clear understanding; equally I 
correct in feeling, and refined in taste." — Blaikwood's Mag. Aug. 1825, \ 
Review of Discourse on the Evidences of ike Christian Betigiun, 

" Dr. Channing, one of those men who are a blessing and at) 1 
honour to their generation and their country." — Qaarterlg Review, i 
Ao. 56, p. 335.— /nrideniai Notice of ditto. 



CHARACTER AND WRITINGS 



JOHN MILTON. 



LHE discovery of a work of Milton, unknown to his omi j 
[times, is an important event in literary history. The coif 1 
sideration, that we of tliis age are the first readers of thil ] 
treatise, naturoliy iieightens our interest in it ; for we seem ii 
this way to be brought nearer to the autlior, and to sustain 
the same relation which his cotcmporaries bore to his wri- 
tings. The work opens witli a salutation, wliich, from any 
other man, miglit be chargeable with inflation ; but which we 
feel to be the natural and appropriate expression of the spirit 
of Milton. Endowed with gifts of the soul, which have been 
imparted to few of our race, and conscious of having conse- 
crated them dirough life to God and mankind, he rose with- 
out effort or afiectation to the style of an Apostle. — ' John 
Milton, to all the Churches of Christ, and to all 

WHO PHOFESS THE CHRISTIAN FaITH THROUGHOUT THE 
WORLD, PEACE, AND THE RECOGNITION OF THE TRUTH, 
AND ETERNAL SALVATION IN GoD THE FaTHER, AND IN OUR 

Lord Jesus Christ.' Our ears are the Jirst to hear this be- 
nediction, and it seems not so much to be liorne to us from 
a distant age, as to come immediately from tlie tainted spirit 
by which it was indited. 

Witliout meaning to disparage the ' Treatise on Christian 
Doctrine,' we may say that it owes very much of the attention 
which it has excited, to the fame of its author. We value it 
chiefly as showing us the mind of Milton on that subject 
which above all ouiers presses upon men of thought and sen- 
stbOily. We want to know in what conclusions such a man 
restetl after a life of extensive and profound research, of mag- 
nanimous efforts for freedom and his countrj', and of commu- 
nion with the most gifted minds of his own and former times. 
The book derives its chief interest from its author, and accord- 
ingly there seems to be a propriety in introducing our c^ 



I 



6 JOH.V AHl.TO.V. 

marks upon it with some notice of the character of Milton. 
We are not sure that we could have abstained from this sub- 

i'ect, eveu if we had not been able to offer so good an apo- 
ogy for attempting it. The iritetlectiml and moral qualities 
of a great man are attractions not easily withstood, and we 
can hardly serve others or ourselves more, than by recalling 
to him die attention, which is scattered among inferior topics. 

In speaking of the itUelleclual cjualities of MDton, we may 
begin with observing, that the very splendour of his poetic 
fame has tended to obscure or conceal the extent of liis mind, 
and ihe variety of its energies and attainments. To many he 
seems only a poet, when in truth he was a profound scholar, 
a man of vast compass of thought, imbued thoroughly with 
jUI ancient and m^ern leaiTiing, and able to master, to mould, 
to impregnate with his own intellectual power, his great and 
TBrions acquisitions. He had not leai'ned the superliua) doc- 
trine of a later day, — that poetry flourishes most in an uncul- 
tivated soil, and that imagination shapes its brightest visions 
from the mists of a superstitions age ; and he had no dread of 
accumulating knowledge, lest it should oppress and smother 
his genius. He was conscious of that within him, wfaicb 
could quicken all knowledge, and wield it with ease and 
might; which conld gi%'e freslniess to okl truths, and harmooy 
to discordant thoughts; which could bind together by living 
ties and mysterious afiinlties the most remote discoveries ; 
aud rear fabrics of glory and beautj' from the rude materiali 
which other minds had collected. Milton hud that univer- 
sality which marks the highest order of intellect. Though 
accustomed almost from infancy to drink at the fountains of 
classical literature, he had nothing of the pedantry and fas- 
tidiousness which disdain all other draughts. His healthy 
mind delighted in genius, on whatever soil or in whatever 
age it burst forth and poured out its fulness. He understood 
too well the rights, and dignity, and pride of creative imagi- 
nation, to lay on it the laws of the Greek or Roman school. 
Parnassus was not to him the only holy ground of genius. 
He felt that poetry was as a universal presence. Great minds 
were every where his kindred. He lelt the enchantment of 
Oriental faction, surrendered himself to the strange creations 
of* Araby the blest,' and delighted still more in the romantic 
spirit of chivalry, and in the tales of wonder in which it wai 
embodied. Accordingly his poetry reminds us of the ocean, 
which adds to its own boundlessness contributions from ail 
regions under heaven. Nor was it only in the department of 
imaginalion, that his acquisitions were vast. He (ravelled 



thy 
the 
cor— 



JOH.V MILTO>f. 7 

the whole field of knowledge, as fUr as it had Uien been 
ilored. His various philological attainments were used tq 
possession oi' the wisdom stored in all countries, 
intellect had been ciiltivateil. The natural plii- 
Icsophy, metaphysics, ethics, history, theology and political 
Kience of his own and former time.s, were lamiliar to him. 
Never was there a more unconfined mind, and we would cits 
Milton as a practical example of the benelits of that universal 
Iture of intellect, which liirms one distinction of our times. 
It which some dread as unfriendly to original thought Let 
_jch remember, that mind is in its own nature diffusive. Its 
^ject is the universe, which is strictly one, or bound toge- 
ther by infinite connexions and correspondencies ; and ac- 
cordingly its natural progress is from one to another 6eld of 

-tiwMight; and wherever original power, creative genius exists, 
mind, far from being distiacced or oppressed by the va- 
y of its acquisitions, will see more and more common 
bearings and hidden and beautiful analogies in all the objects 
of knowledge, will see mutual light shed from truth to truth, 
and will compel, as with a kingly power, whatever it under* 
stands, to yield some tribute of proof, or illustration, or splen^ 

"^ur, to whatever topic it would unfold. 

k Milton's fame rests chiefly on his poetry, and to this we 

^AturaUy give our first attention. By those who are nccus* 
tmned to speak of poetry as light readings, Milton's eminence 
in this sphere may be considered only as giving him a high 
rank among the contributors to public amusement. Not so 
thought Milton. Of all God's gills of intellect, he esteemed 
poetical genius the most transcendent. He el^teemed it in him- 
self as a Kind of inspiration, and wrote his great works with 
something of the conscious dignity of a prophet We agree 
with Milton in his estimate of poetry. It seems to us the 
divinest of all arts ; for it is the breathing or expression of 
that principle or sentiment, which is deepest and sublimest 
inhuman nature; we mean, of that thirst or aspiration, to 
vhich no mind is wholly a stranger, for sometliing purer and 
lovelier, something more powerful, lofty, and thrilling than 
ordinary and real life affords. No doctrine is more common 
among Christians than that of man's immorlalily; but it is 
not so generally understood, that the germs or principles of 
his whole future being are >iffw wrapped up in hts soul, as the 
rudiments of the future plant in the seed. As a necessary 
result of this constitution, the soul, possessed and moved by 
these mighty though infant energies, is perpetually stretching 
beyowi what is present and visible, struggling against tlio 




JOHN MJLTO.V, 

grosser labours and pleasures of our earthly being. The pre* "^ 
sent life is not wholly prosaic, precise, tame and finite. To 
the gifled eye, it abuuiids in the poetic. The afTectlons which 
spread beyond ourselves and stretch far into futurity ; the 
workings of mighty passions, which seem to arm the soul with 
an almost superhuman euergy; the innocent and irrepressible 
joy of infancy ; the bloom, and buoyancy, and dazzling hopes 
of youth ; the tlirobbings of the heart, when it first wakes to 
love, and dreams of a happiness too vast for earth ; woman, 
with her beauty, and grace, and gentleness, and fulness of 
feeling, and depth of aSection, and her hlushes of purity, 
and the tones and looks which only a mother's heart can in- 
spire; — these are all poetical. It is not true that the poet 
paints a life which does not exist. He only extracts and cott- 
centrates, as it were, life's ethereal essence, arrests and con- 
denses its volatile fragrance, brings together its scattered 
beauties, and prolongs its more refined but evanescent joys ; 
and in this he does well ; for it is good to feel that lite is not 
wholly usuiped by cares for subsistence, and physical gratifi- 
cations, but admits, in measures which may be indefinitely 
enlarged, sentiments and delights worthy of a higher being. 
This power of poetry to refine our views of Ufe and happiness 
is more and more needed as society advances. It is needed 
to withstand the encroachments of heartless and artificitil man* 
ners, which make civilization so tame and uninteresting. It 
is needed to counteract the tendency of physical science, which 
being now sought, not as formerly for intellectual gratifica- 
tion, but for multiplying bodily comforts, requires a new de- 
velopement of imagination, taste and poetry, to preserve men 
from sinking into an earthly, material, epicurean life. — Our 
remarks in vindication of poetry have extended beyond our 
original design. They have had a higher aim than to assert 
the dignity of Milton as a poet, and that is, to endear and 
recommend this divine art to all who reverence and would cul- 
tivate and refine their nature. 

In delineating Milton's character as a pad, we are saved 
the necessily of looking tiir lor its distinguishing attributes. 
His name is almost identified with sublimity. He is in truth 
the sublimest of men. He rises, not by effort or discipline, 
but by a native tendency and a godlike instinct to the contem- 
plation of objects of grandeur and anfulness. He alwavs 
moves with a conscious energy. There is no subject so vast 
or terrific, as to repel or intimidate him. The overpowering 
grandeur of a theme kindles and attracts him. He enters oa 



JOHN MJLTOV. 11 

e description of llie infernal regions with a fearless treaJ, as 
if he felt within himself a power to erect the prison-house of 
fallen spirits, to encircle them with flames and horrors worthy 
of their crimes, to call forth from them shouts which should 
'tear hell's concave,' and to embody in tlieir Chief an Arch- 
angel's energies and a Demon's pride and hate. Even the 
stupendous conception of Satan seems never to oppress his 
faculties. This character of jiower runs through all Milton's 
works. His descriptions of nature show a free and bold hand. 
He has no need of the minute, graphic skill, which we prize 
in Cow|>er or Crabbe. With a few strong or delicate touches, 
he impresses, as It were, his own mind on the scenes which 
he would describe, and kindles the imagination of the gifted 
reader to clothe them with the same radiant hues under which 
they appeared to his own. 

This attribute of power is universally felt to characterize 
Milton. His sublimity is in every mans mouth. Is it felt 
thai bis poetry breathes a sensibility and tenderness hardly 
surpassed by its sublimity? We apprehend that the grandeur 
of Milton's mind has thrown some shade over his milder beau- 
ties; and this it has done not only by being more striking 
and imposing, but by the tendency of vast mental energy to 
give a certain calmness to the expression of tenderness and 
deep feeling. A great mind is the master of its own enthu- 
siasm, and does not often break out into those tumults, which 
pass with ntany for the signs of profound emotion. Its sensi- 
bility, though more Intense and endm'in^, is more self-pos- 
sessed, and less perturbed than tliat ol other men, and is 
therefore less observed and felt, except by those who under- 
stand, through their own consciousness, the workings and 
utterance of genuine feeling. We might tjuote pages in illus- 
tration of the qualities here ascribed to Milton. Turn to 
Comus, one of his earliest productions. What sensibility 
breathes in the descriptions of the benighted Lady's singing, 
by Comus and the Spirit! 

couus. 
Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould 
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment ? 
Sure something holy lodges in that hreast. 
And with these raptures moves the vocal air 
To testily his hidden residence ; 
How sweetly did they 8oat ujion the wings 
Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night, 
At every fall smoothing the raven down 
Of darkness till it smiVd ! I have oft heard 
nMy mother Circe vrUit the Sirens three. 




JOHN" :MiLTny. 

Amidst the flow'ry-kirtled Naiades, 

Culling their potent herbx and baleful drugs. 

Who, &s they sun^, would tnlie the prison d soul. 

And lap it in Elysium ; Scylla wept. 

And chid her barking waves into attention. 

And Tell Charybdis munnur'd soft applause : 

Yet they in pleasing slumber lull'd the sense, 

And in sweet madness robb'd it of itself ; 

But such a sacred and home-felt delight, 

Such sober certainly of waking bliss, 

I never heard till now. Lines 244—264.' 



At la.<:t a soft and solemn -breathing sound 
Rose like a steam of rich diatill'd perliimes. 
And stole upon the air, that even Silence 
Was took ere she was ware, and wishd she might 
Deny her nature, and be never more. 
Still to be so displac'd. 1 was all ear, 
And took in strains that might create a soul 
Under tlie ribs of Death. Lines 555 — 5fi3. 

In illustration of Milton's tenderness, we will open almaak 
at a venture. 

Now morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime 
Advancing, sow'd the earth with orient pearl. 
When Adam wak'd, so custom'd, for his sleep 
Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred. 
And temp'rate vapours bland, which th' only sound 
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan. 
Lightly dinpers'd, and the shrill matin song 
Of birds on every bough ; so much the more 
His wonder was to find unwaken'd Eve 
With tresses discompos'd, and glowing cheek. 
As through unquiet rest : he on his side 
Leaning half-rais'd, with looks of cordial love 
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld 
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep. 
Shot forth peculiar graces ; then with voice 
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes. 
Her hand soft touchmg, whisper'd thus. Awake 
My fairest, my espous d, my latest found, 
Heav'n's last best gift, my ever new delight. 
Awake : the morning shines, and the fresh field 
Colls us ; we lose the prime, to mark how spring 
Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove, 
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed. 
How nature paints her colours, how the bee 
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet. 

Par. Lost, b, v. lines I- 



JOHN WILTON. IJ 

So cheer'd he li'ia faif apouRe, and she was cbeer'd, 
But silently a. gentle tenr let fall 
From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair ; 
Two other precioiw drops that ready stood. 
Each in their crjsial sluice, he ere they fell 
Kiis'd, as the gracious Kigna of sweet remorse 
And pious awe, that fear'd to ha»e offended. 

Ibid. b. V. lines 129—135. 

From this very imperfect view of the qualities of Milton's 
poetry, we hasten to his great work, Paradise Lost, perhaps 
the noblest monument of hunian genius. The two first books, 
by universal consent, stand pre-eminent in sublimity. HeU 
and Hell's King have a terrible harmony, and dilate into new 
grandeur and awfulness, tJie longer we conieniplate them. 
From one element, *solid and lii^uid fire,' the poet has framed 
a world uf horror and suffering, such as imagination had never 
traversed. But fiercer Sanies than those which encompass 
Satan, burn in his own soul. Revenge, exaspemted pride, 
isuming wrath, ambition though fallen, yet unconquered 
the thunders of the Omnipotent, and grasping still at the 

^ ipire of the universe, — these form a picture more sublime 

tad terrible than Hell. Hell yields to the spirit which it im- 
prisons. The intensity of its fire.s reveals the intenser passions 
and more vehement will of Satan; and the ruined Archangel 
gathers into himself the sublimity of the scene which sur- 
rounds him. This forms the tremendous interest of these 
wonderful books. We see mind triumphant over the most 
terrible powers of nature. We see unutterable agony sub- 
dued by energy of soul. We have not indeed in Satan those 
irsts of passion, wliich rive the soul as well as shatter the 
itwanl frame of Lear, But we have a depth of passion 
hich only an Archangel could manifest. The all-enduring, 
sU-def^ying pride of Satan, assuming so majestically Hell's 
burning throne, and coveting the diadem, which scorches his 
thunder-blasted biow, is a creation reouirtng in its author 
almost the spiritual energy with which lie invests the fallen 
seraph. Some have doubted whether the moral effect of such 
delineations of the storms and terrible workings of die soul is 
good ; whether the interest felt in a spirit so transcend ently 
'I as Satan, favours our sympathies with virtue. But our 
rest fastens, in this and like cases, on what is not evil. We 
e on Satan with an awe not unmixed wiih mysterious plea- 
£, as on a miraculous manifestation of the power of mind. 
K^hat chains us, as with a resistless spell, in such a character, 
I spiritual might made visible by the racking pains which it 



and 



^K duel 





I 



H\ MII.-IOX. 



overpuwers. Tliere is somethiiig kindling and eniiol)!. 
the consciousness, liowever awakened, of the energy wiiit^i 
resides in mind; and many a virtuous man has borrowed new 
strength from the force, constancy, and dauntless curirsge 
evil Hgents, 

Milton's description of Satan attests in various ways 
power of liis genius. Critics have often observed, that xhtti 
great difficuhy of his work was to reconcile the spiritual pro* 
perties of his supernatural beings with the human modes 
existence, which he was obliged to ascribe to diem ; and 
difficulty is too great for any genius wholly to ot-ercome, si 
we must acknowledge tliat our enthusiasm is in some parts 
the poem checked by a feeling of incongruity between the si 
ritual agent, and his sphere and mode of agency. But we 
visited with no such chilling doubts and misgivings in the 
scription of Satan in Hell. Imagination has here achieved 
its highest triumph, in imparting n character of reality ami 
truth to its most daring creations. That world of horron^J 
though material, is yet so remote from our ordhiary natun|^ 

an ao£ 



f| 



that n spiritual being, exiled from heaven, finds there an s 
proprtate home. There is, too, an indefinitenesa in liie <fe»i 
scription of Satan's person, whicli incites without shockinjf', 
the imagination, and aids us to combine In our conceptio 
liim the massiness of a real form with the vagueness of spi* 
ritual existence. To the production of this effect, much e 
pends on the first impression given by the poet ; for this it 
[^t to follow us through the whole work ; and here we tliiidt 
Milton eminentiv successful. The first glimpse of Satan i$: 
given us hi the following lines, which, whilst too indefinit 
provoke the scrutiny of the reason, fill the imagination of tU 
reader with a form which can hawlly l)e eUaced. 

Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mnle 
With head up-lifi above the wave, and eyes 
I'hat sparkling blnz'd, his other parts besides 
Prone on the flood, extended long and large 
Lay floating many a rood, • * * 

Par. Lost, b. i. lines J92— 196. 

Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool 

His mighty stature ; on each hand the flames, 

Driv'n backward, slope their pointing spires, and roU'd 

In billows, leave i'th' midat a horrid vale. Ibid. 221 — 224, 

We have more which we should gladly say of the delint 
Uon of Satan ; especially of the glimpses which are now anS 
then given of hii deep anguish and despair, iind of the loiichek 



JOHN HILTON. 15 1 

of better feelings which are skUruily thrown into the dark piiw \ 
lure, both Giilte<l and designed to blend with our adiniratioiii I 
dread, and abliorrcnce, a measure of tliat sympathy and inter* ' 
est with which every living, thinking being ought to be r&> , 
garded, and without which all other feelings tend to sin and 
pain. But there is another topic which we cannot leave un- 
touched. From Hell we flee to Paradise, a region as loveljr 
as Hell is terrible, and which to those who do not know ths 
■niversality of true genius, will appear doubly wonderfut| ' 
when considered as the creation of the same mind which had 
fninted the infernal world. 

Paradise and its inhabitants are in sweet accordance, and 
together form a scene of tranquil bliss, which calms and 
soothes, whilst it delights the imagination. Adam and Evii I 
jnst moulded by the hand, and quickened by the breath of 1 
God, reflect in tlieir countenances and tbrms, as well as minds, 
the intelligence^ benignity, and happiness of their authors 
Their new existence has tiie freshness and peacefulness of thtf ' 
dewy morning. Their souls, unsated and untainted, find aa 
innocent joy in the youthful creation, which spreads and smiles 
sround them. Their mutual love is deep, fur it is the love of 
jroung, unworn, unexhausted hearts, which meet in each other 
the only human objects on whom to pour forlli tlieir fulness 
of a{Fection; and still it is serene, ibr it is the love of happy 
beings, who know not sufiering even by name, whose inno* 
«ence excludes not only the tumults but the thought of je^ 
busy and shame, who, 'imparadised in one another's arms,' 
■carce dream of futurity, so blessed is their present bein^. 
We will not say that we envy our first parents; for we feel 
Aat there may be higher happiness than theirs, a happiness 
Won through struggle with inward and outward foes, the haj^ 
ptness of power and moral victory, the happiness of disiyiter- 
tsted sacrifices and wide-spread love, the happiness of bound- 
less hope, and of 'thoughts which wander through eternity.' 
fitill there are tin)es, when the spirit, oppressed with pain, 
Worn with toil, tired of timiult, sick at the sight of guilt, 
woundetl in its love, baffled in its hope, and trembling in its 
firith, almost longs for the ' wings of a dove, tJiat it might fly 
•way' and take refuge amidst the 'shady bowel's,' the 'A-eriiu 
mirs,' the ' roses without thorns,' the quiet, the lieauty, the 
loveliness of Eden. It is tlie contrast of this deep pence of 
Paradise with the storms of life, which gives to the tburth and 
filth books of this poem a charm so irresistible, that not a few 
Would sooner relinquish the two first books with all their 



16 JOHN MILTON. 

sublimity, than part witli these. It has sometimes been sai^^ 
that the English language has no good pastoral poetry. We 
would ask, in what age or country has the pastoral reed 
breathed such sweet strains as are borne to us on ' the odo- 
riferous wings of gentle gales' from Milton's Paradise? 

We should not fulfil our duty, were we not to say one word 
on what has been justly celebrated, the harmony of Milton's 
Tersification. His numbers have the prime charm of ex- 
pressiveness. Tliey vary with, and answer to tlie depth, or 
tenderness, or sublimity of his conceptions, and hold intimate 
alliance with the soul. Like Michael Angelo, in whose hands 
the marble was said to be flexible, he bends our language, 
which foreigners reproach with hardn&ss, into wliatever forms 
the subject demands. All the treasures of suect and boJemn 
Gouid arc at his command. Words, harsh and discordniil 
in the writings of less gifted men, flow through liis poetry in 
a full stream of harmony. This power overjan^uage is nut 
to be asci'ibed to Milton's musical ear. It belongs to the 
soul. It is a gift or exercise of genius, which has power ta 
impress itself on whatever it touches, and finds or frames ai 
sounds, motions, and material forms, correspondences i 
harmonies with its own fervid thoughts and feelings. 

We close our remarks on Milton's poetry with observiiu 
that it is characterized by seriousness. Great and various | 
are its merits, it does not discover all the variety of genii^ 
which we And in Shakespeare, whose imagination revella 
equally in regions of mirth, beauty, and terror, now evokin 
spectres, now sporting with fairies, and now ' ascending t' 
highest heaven of Invention.' Milton was cast on times t 
solemn and eventful, was called to take part in transactions 
too perilous, and hud too perpetual need of the presence of 
higli. thoughts and motives, to indulge himself in light and 
gay creations, even hati his genius been more flexible and 
sportive. But Milton's poetry, though habitually serious, is 
always healthful, and bright, and vigorous. It has no gloom. 
He took no pleasure in drawing dark pictures of life; for he 
knew by experience, that there is a power in the soul to trans- 
mute calamity into an occasion and nutriment of moral power 
and triumphant virtue. We find no where in his writings 
that whining sensibility and exaggeration of morbid feeling 
which makes so much of motlern poetry eSemiiiating. If he 
is not gay, he is not spirit- broken. His L' Allegro proves, 
that he miderstood thoroughly the bright and joyous aspects . 
of nature j and in his Peubcroso, where he was tempted I 



tempted tQ^| 



JOHN MILTON. 

tccumulnte images of gloom, we lenm Uial the Eaddest views 
L which he took of creation, are such as inspire ooly pensive 
I'Musing or lofty contemplation. 

From Milton's poetry, we turn to his prose. We rejoice 
Iftiat the dust is beginning to be wiped from liis prose writ* 
tings, and that the public are now learning, what the ini^ 
I liated have long known, that these contain passages hardly 
inferior to his best poetry, and tiiat they are tarouehout 
Kaurkcd with the same vigorous mind, which gave us Para- 
Bdise Lost. The attention to these works has been discournged 
t fcy some objections, on which we shall bestow a few remarks. ' 
K- And 6rst, it is objected to his prose writings, that the stylfl 
Kip difficult and obscure, abounding in involutions, transposl- 
IlioDS and latinisms ; that his protracted sentences exhaust 
1 weary the mind, and too often yield it no better recom- 
isc^ than confused and indistinct perceptions. We mean 
t to deny that these charges have some grounds ; but tliey 
tern to us much exaggerated ; and when we consider that 
i^e difficulties of Milton's style have almost sealed up hit 
'Brose writings, we cannot but lament the fastidiousness and 
ifieminacy of modem readers. We know that simplicity and 
■Jper^picuJty are important qualities of st)'le; but there are 
~asUy nobler and more important ones ; such as energy and 
ichness, and in these Milton is not surpassed. The best 
^le is not that which puts the reader most easily and in the 
ifaot^st time in possession of a writer's naked thoughts; but 
^at which is the truest im(^ of a great intellect, which con- 
eys fully and carries furthest into other souls the conceiv 
ins and feelings of a profound and lofty spirit. To be uni- 
nrsally intelligible is not the highest merit. A great mind 
Binot without injurious constraint, shrink itself to the grasp 
f common passive readers. Its natural movement is free, 
iJd and majestic, and it ought not to be required to part 
'ih these attributes, that the multitude may keep pace with 
A full mind will naturally overflow in long sentences ; and 
I the moment of inspiration, when thick-coming thoughts 
nd images crowd upon it, will often pour them forth in a 
plendid confusion, dazzling to common readers, but kindling 
) congenial spu-its. There are writings which are clear 
nohgh their shallowness. We must not expect in the ocean 
e transparency of the calm inland stream. For ourselves, 
e love what is called easy reading perhaps too well, espe- 
ally in our hours of relaxation; but we love too to have 
r faculties tasked by master spirits. We delight in long 



18 JOHN Mrr.ro\. 

sentences, in which a great truth, instead of being broken up i 
into numerous perioils, is spread out in its full proportions, 
is irradiated witti variety of illustration and imagery, is set 
forth in a splendid affluence of language, and flows like a full 
stream, with a majestic harmony whiSi fills at once the ear 
and the soul. Such sentences arc wordiy and noble mani- 
festations of a great and far-looking mind, which grasps at 
once vast fields of thought, just as the natural eye takes ui at 
a moment wide prospects of grandeur aud beauty. We would 
not indeed have all compositions of this character. Let abun- 
dant provision be made for the common intellect. Let such 
writers as Addison (an honoured name) 'bring down philo- 
6ophy from heaven to earth.' But let inspired genius fulfil 
its higher function of lifting the prepared mind from earth to 
heaven, Impose upon it no strict laws, for it is iu own best 
law. Let it speak in its own language, in tones which suit its 
own car. Let it not lay aside its natural port, or dwarf itself 
that it may be comprehended by the surrounding multitude. 
Jf not understood and relished now, let it place a generous 
confidence in other ages, and utter oracles, which futurity 
will expound. We are led to these remarks not merely for 
Milton's justification, but because our limes seem to demand 
them. Literature we fear is becoming too jiopular. The 
whole community is now turned into readers, and in this we 
heartily rejoice ; and we rejoice too that so much talent is 
employed in making knowledge accessible to all. We hail 
the general diffusion of intelligence as the brightest feature 
of the present age. But good and evil are never disjoiued ; 
and one bad consequence of the midtitude of readers is, that 
men of genius are too anxious to please the multitude, and 

E refer a present shout of popularity to that less tumultuous, 
ut deeper, more thrilling note of the trump of fame, which re- 
sounds and grows clearer and louder tlirough all future ages. 
We now come to a much more serious objection to Milton's 
prose writings, and dial is, that they are disfigured by party 
spirit, coarse invective, and controversial asperity ; and here 
we are prepared to say, that there are passages in these 
works which every admirer of his character must earnestly 
desire to expunge. Miltoii's alleged virulence was mani- 
fested towards private and public foes. The first, such as 
Solmasius and Morus, deserved no mercy ; they poured out 
on his spotless character torrents of calumny, charging him 
with the blackest vices of the lieart and the foulest enormities 
of the lile. It ought to be added, that the manners and 
spirit of Milton's age justified a retaliation on such offenders. 



JOHN MILTO.V. 19 ; 

which the more courteous, and, we will hope, more chmtiaa 
L ^irit of the present times will not tolerate. Still we mean 
I 6ot to be his apologists, Milton, raised as he was above his 
I tge, and fortified with the consciousness of high virtue, ought 
I to have been both to his own and future times an example of I 
J diristian equanimity. In regard to the public enemies whom 
I Iw assailed, we mean the despots in church and state, and 
ihe corrupt institutions which had stirred up a civil war, the 
i[eneral strain of his writings, though strong and stem, must 
Bteait him, notwithstandingliis occasional violence, among tlie 
IHends of civil and religious liberty. That liberty was in 
Kril. Great evils were struggling for perpetuity, and could 
Rily be broken down by great jxiwer. Milton felt, that in* 
erests of infinite moment were at stake ; an<l who will blame 
tam for binding himself to tliem with the whole energy of his 
^t mind, and for defending them with fervour and ve- 
mence? We must not mistake christian benevolence, as 
mff it bad but one voice, that of soft entreaty. It can speak 
a piercing and awful tones. There is constantly going on 
n our world a conflict between good and evil. 'Ilie cause 
f human nature has always to wrestle with foes. All im- 
>vement is a victory won by struggles. It is especially 
le of those great periods which have oeen distinguished by 
ivotutions in government and religion, and from which we 
e the most rapid movements of the human mind, that they 
! been signalized by conflict. Thus Christianity con- 
st! the world and grew up amidst storms ; and the refor- 
odon of Luther was a signal to universal war ; anil Liberty 
a both worlds has encountered opposition, over which she 
las triumphed only through her own immortal energies. At 
mch periods, men gifted with gi'eat power of thought and 
loftiness of sentiment are especially summoned to the con- 
Bict with evil. They hear, as it were, in their own magnani- 
bity and generous aspirations, the voice of a divinity ; and 
ibus commissioned, and burning with a passionate devotion to 
Mith and freedom, they must and will speak with an indig- 
int energy ; and they ought not to be measured by the 
indard ot ordinary men in ordinary times. Men of natural 
ftnesa and timidity, of a sincere but effeminate virtue, will 
! apt to look on these bolder, hardier spirits, as violent, 
lerturbed, and uncharitable; and the charge will not be 
itdlly groundless. But that deep feeling of evils, which is 
scessary to effectual conflict with them, and which marks 
rod's most powerful messengers to mankind, cannot breathe 
lelf in soft and tender accents. The deeply moved soul 



20 JOHN MIITON. 

will speak strongly, and ought to speak so ns lu move and 
shake nations. 

We have offered tliese remarks as strongly applicable t» 
Milton. He reverenced and loved human nature, and atw 
tached himself to its great interests with a fervour o( which 
only such a mind was capable. He lived in one of diOM 
solemn periods which determine the character of ages tft 
come. His spirit was stirred to its very centre by the prw* 
sence of daneer. He lived in the midst of the battle. Tlui( 
the ardour oT his spirit sometimes pas!<ed the bounds of wub 
dom and charity, and poured forth unwarrantable inveclivtH. 
we see and lament. But the purity and loftiness of his mina 
break forth amidst his bitterest invectives. We see a noble n»i 
ture still. We see that no feigned love of truth and freedom 
was a covering for selfishness and malignity. He did indeed 
love and adore uncorrupted religion, and intellectual libertji:^' 
and let his name be enrolled among their truest champions, t 

Milton has told us in bis own noble style, that he entered 
on fiis principal conti-oversy with episcopacy reluctantly an4 
only through a deep conviction of duty. The introduction t|^ 
the second book of his ' Keasons of Church Goveromeiittt 
shows us the workings of his mind on this subject, and jf 
his best vuidication ti-om the charge we are now repelling^ 
He says — 

'Surely to every- good and peaceable man, it must in naturt 
needs be a hateful thing, to be the displeaser and molester of thou* 
sands ) much better would it like him, doubtless, to be the meuenger 
of gladness and contentment, which is his chief intended business to 
aH mankind, but that they resist and oppose their own true hap[nt 
ness. But when God commands to take the trumpet, and blow A 
dolorous or a jarring blast, it lies not in man's will what he sh^ 
say, or what he shijl conceal.* ** ThU I foresee, that should tbM 
church be brought under heavy oppression, and God have given nw 
abUity the while to reason against that man that should be tlie 
author of so foul a deed ; or should she, by blessing from above on 
(he industry and courage of faithful men, change this her distractdf 
estate into better days, without the least furtherance or contribution 
of those few talents, which God at that present had lent Die ; I for«i 
see what stories [ should hear within myself, all my life after, of diM 
courage and reproach. Timorous and ungrateful, the church of 
God is now again at the foot of her insulting enemies, and thou b^ 
wailest ; what matters it for thee or thy bewailing ? When time wasf 
thou coulilst not find a syllnble of all that thou hast read, or atudiea[^ 
to utter in her behalf. Yet ease and leisure was given thee for thj 
reUred thoughts, out of the sweat of other men. Thou hadst the 
diligence, the parts, the lungiinge ofa man, if a viun subject were to 
be adorned or benulified ; but when the cause of God and hii chnitlr 



^ 



JOHX MILTON. 



to be pleaded. Fur which purpose that tongue was g;iven thee 
which thou hast, God listened if he could hear thy voice among his 
zealous servants, but ihou wert dumb as a beast 5 from henceforward 
be that which thine own brutish silence hath made thee. * * *But 
now by this little diligence, mark what a privilege I have gained with • 
good men and saints, to claim my right of lamenting the iribulationii 
of the church, if she should sufter, when others that have ventured 
nothing for her sake, have not the honour to be admitted n: 
Itut if iihe lift up her drooping head and prosper, among those that 
have Bomething more tlian wished her welfare, 1 have my charter and 
freehold of rejoicing to nie and my heirs. Concerning therefore this 
wayward subject agiunst prelaty, the touching whereof is so distn,iteful 
and disquietous to a number of men, as by what hath been said I may 
deserve of charitable readers to be credited, that neither envy nor 
gall halh entered me upon this controversy, but the enforcement of 
conscience only, and a preventive fear lest the omitting of tliis duty 
shcMild be against me, when I would xtore up to myself the good pro- 
vision of peaceful hours.' — Vol. 1. p. lla — M7.* 

He then goes on to speak of his consciousness of pos- 
sessing great poetical powers, which he wns most anxious to 
cultivate. Of these he speaks thus magnificently. 

* These abilities, wheresoever they be found, ate the inspired gift 
of God rarely bestowed, but yet to some (though most abuse) in 
every nation ; and are of power, — to inbreed and cherish in a great 
people the seeds of virtue, and public civility ; to allay tlie pertur- 
bations of the mind, and set the afTectionB in nght tune ; to celebrate 
in glorious and lofty hymns the throne and equlpiige of God's Al- 
mightincss, and what he works, and what he suffers to be wrought 
with high providence in his church ; to sing victorious agonies of 
martyrs and saints, the deeds and triumphs of just and pious nations, 
doing valiantly through faith a|;ain8t the enemies of Christ ; to de- 
plore the general relapses of kingdoms and states from justice and 
God's true worship ; lastly, whatsoever in religion is holy and sub- 
lime, in virtue amiable or grave, whatsoever hath passion or admira- 
tion in all the changes of that which is culled fortune from without : 
or the wily subtleties and refluxes of man's thoughts from within j all 
these things with a solid and treatable smoothness to paint out and 
describe.'— Vol. I, p. 1:20, 

He then gives intimations of his having proposed to himself 
a great poelical work ; ' a work,' he says, 

' Not to be raised from the heal of youth, or the vapours of wine, 
like that which Bows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist, 
or the trencher fury ofa rhj-ming parasite -, nor to be obtained by the 

• From the Introduction to the second book of ' The Reason of 
Church Government." &C.V0I. I, p. lH,ir. of Symmons's edition of 
Milton's Prose Works, to which all our references arc made. 



I 



22 JOHX MILTON. 

inTOcation of dame memory and her siren diiugliterx, but by devout 
prayer to that eternal spirit, who can enrich with all utleriince and 
knowledge, and sends out his seraphim, with the hallowed fire of hk 
altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases.'— Vol, 1. p. 122; 

He then closes with a passage, showing from what prmct^ 
pies he forsook these detightful studies for controversy, 

' 1 trust hereby to make it manifest with what small willingness 1 
endure to interrupt the pursuit of no less hopes thua these, and leave 
a calm and pleasing solitariness, fed with cheerful and confident 
thoughts, to embark in a troubled sea of noises and hoarse disputes^ 
put from beholding the hright countenance of truth in the quiet and 
■till air of delightful studies. * * • But were it the meanest under- ■ 
iervice, if God by his secretary conscience enjoin it, it were sad fbf 
me if I should draw back ; for me especially, now when all men oSet 
their aid to help, ease and lighten the difficult labours of the church, 
to whose service, by the intentions of my parent* and friends I wu 
destined of a child, and in mine own resolutions ; till coming to 
»me maturity of years, and perceiving what tyranny had invadeil 
the church, that he who would take orders must subscribe slave, and' 
take an oath withal, which unless he took with a conscience that 
would retch, he mast either strait peijure, or split his faith -, I thou^t 
it better to prefer a blameless silence before the sacred office of 
speaking, bought and begun with servitude and forswearing.'— 
Vol.1, p. 123. 

These passages, replete with Milton's genius and greatnest' 
of soul, snow us the influences anil motives under which hu , 
prose works were written, and help us to interpret passage! 
which, if taken separately, might justify us in ascribing to hira 
B character of excessive indignation and scorn. 

Milton's most celebrated prose work is his * AreopagiucBj, 
or a Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing,' a nobis 
work indeed, a precious manual of freedom, an arsenal of 
immortal weapons for the defence of man's highest prert^^ 
live, intellectual liberty. His ' Reformation in England ' and 
* Reasons of Church Government,' are the most important 
theological treatises published during his life. They were 
his earliest prose compositions, and thrown ofl' with much 
haste, and on these accounts are more chargeable with de- 
fects of s^le than any other of bis writings. But these, with, 
all their defects, abound in strong and elevated thought, and 
in power and felicity of expression. Their great blemish is 
ait inequality of style, often springing from the conflict and 
opposition of the impulses under which he wrote. It is not 
uncommon to find in the same sentence his affluent genius 
pouring forth magnificent images and expressions, and sud- 




R'danly his deep scoru fur hh opponents, suggesting and throw- 
ing into the midst of this splendour, sarcasms and degrading 
comparisons altogether al variance with the general strain. 
From this cause, aiid from negligence, man; powerful pas- 
sages in his prose writings are marretl by an incongruous mix- 
ture of unworthy allusions and phrases. — In the close of his 
first work, that on * Reformation in Kngland,' he breaks out 
into an invocation and prayer to the Supreme Being, from 
which we extract a passage containing a remarkable intimo- 
lion of his having meditated some great poetical enterprise 
from his earliest yeiu-s, and giving full promise of that gran- 
deur of dionght and language, which characterizes Pamdise 
Lost. Having * lilted up his hands to that eternal and pro- 
pitious throne, where nothing is readier than grace and refuge 
to the tlistresses of mortal suppliants,' and besought God to 
l>erliect the work of civil and religious deliverance begun in 
England, he proceeds thus: 

'Then, amidst the hymns and hallelujahs of saints, foine one rnn^ 
perhaps be heard offering at high strains in new and lofty measures, 
to sing and celebrate thy divine mercies and marvellous judgments 
in this land throughout all ages ; whereby this great and warlike na- 
tion, instructed and inured to the fervent and continual practice of 
Iruth and righteousness, and casting far from her the rags of her old 
vices, may press on hard to that high and happy emulation to be 
found the subercst, wisest, and most christian people, at that day, 
when Thou, the eternal and shortly ex}>ected King, shalt open the 
clouds to judge the several kingdoms of the world, and distributing 
national honours and rewards to religious and just commonwealths, 
shalt put an end to all earthly tyrannies, proclaiming thy universal 
and mild monarchy through heaven an<l earth ; where they undoubt- 
edly, that by their labours, counsels, and prayers, have been earnest 
for the common good of religion and their country, shall receive 
above the Inferior orders of the biassed, the regal addition of princi- 
palities, legions, and thrones into their glorious titles ; and in super^ 
eminence of beatilic vision, progressing the dateless and irrevoluble 
c'u-cle of eternity, shall clasp inseparable hands with joy aad bliss, in 
over-measure for ever.'— Vol. I. pp. 58, 59. 

We have not time to speak of Milton's political treatises. 
We close our brief remarks on his prose writings, with recom- 
menduig them to all, who can enjoy great beauties in the neigh- 
bourhood of faults, and who would Team the compass, energy, 
and richness of our language ; and still more do we recom- 
mend them to those, wlio desire to nourish in their breasts 
magnanimity of sentiment and an unquenchable love of free- 
dom. They bear the impress of that seal, by which genius 
distinguiiihes its production;> from works of learning ancl taste. 



24 JOHN MILTOX. 

The great and decisive test of genius is, that il calls fortk 
power in the souls of others. It not merely gives knowledge 
but breathes energy. There are autliors, and among tlies* 
Milton holds the highest rank, in approaching whom we u*, 
conscious of an access of intellectual strength. A 'virtue goe*. 
out' from them. We discern more clearly, not merely because 
a new light is thrown over objects, but because our own vision 
is strengthened. Sometimes a single word, s)ioken by tfa»' 
voice ofgenius, goes far into the heart. A hint, a suggestion^ 
an undefined delicacy of expression, teaches more than wC;' 
gather from volumes of less gifted men. The works which wttt 
should chiefly study, are not those which contain the greateafet 
fund of knowledge, but which raise us into sympathy with thft: 
intellectual energy of the author, and in which a great mind' 
multiplies itself, as it were, in die reader. Milton's proas' 
works are imbued as really, if not as thoroughly, as his poetry, 
with tliis quickening power, and they will richly reward thoaSi 
who ore receptive of tliis influence. 

We now leave the writings of Milton to offer a few remarks , 
on his moral qualities. His moral character was as stronglyii 
marked as his intellectual, and it may be expressed in one-, 
word, magnanimity. It was in harmony with his poetry. Hai 
had a passionate love of the higher, more commanding, and 
majestic virtues, and fed his youthful mind with meditations 
on the ]ierfection of a human being. In a letter wiitten to\ 
an Italian friend before his thirtieth year, and translated hf- 
Hayley, we have tliis vivid picture of bis aspirations afteci 
virtue. "i 

'As to other points, what God may have determined for me I' 
know not ; but this 1 know, that if he ever instilled an intense love of' 
moral beauty into the breast of any mnn, he has instilled it into minel, 
CereK in the fuble pursued fiat her daughter with a greater keennen . 
of ini|uiry, than 1 day and night the idea of perfection. Hence^ 
wherever 1 find a man despising the false estimates of the vulgar, and ' 
darine: to aspire in sentiment, language and conduct, to what ihU 
highest wisdom, through every age, has taught us as most excellent, 
lo him 1 unite myself by a sort of necessary attachment; and if I wt i 
80 influenced by nature or destiny, that by no exertion or labours of , 
my own I mny exalt myself to this summit of worth and honour, yet 
no powers of heaven or earth will hinder me from looking with re- 
verence and affection upon those, who have thoroughly attained 
this glor)', or appeared engaged in the successful pursuit of it. 

His Comiis was written in his twenty-sixth year; and on i 
reading this exquisite work our admiration is awakened, not J 




traie of his hope to 

himself' ' 

best and honourablest thi 



■ JOHN' MILTON, 

' fo much by observing how the whole spirit of poetry had de- 
sceDded on him nt that early age, as by witnessing, how hts 
whole youthfiji soul was nenctrnted, aned and lifled up by the 
austere charms, 'the radiant light,' the invincible power, the 
celestial peace of saintly virtue. He reverenced moral purity 
and elevation, not only for its own sake, but as the inspirer of 
intellect, and especially of tlie higher efforts of poetry. ' 
was confirmed,' he says, in his usual noble style, 

s ronlirnied in this opiniuii, that he who would not be frus- 
; well hereafter in laudable things, ought 
; that is, a composition and pattern of the 
gs J not presuming to sing of high praises 
of heroic men, or thnious cities, unless he have in himself the ex- 
perience and the practice of all that which is praise worthy. '—-Vol. 1. 
p. 224. 

We learn from his works, that he used his multifarious 
reading to build up within himself this reverence for virtue. 
Ancient history, the sublime musings of Plato, and the heroic 
self-abandonment of chivalry, joined their influences with pro- 
phets and apostles, in binding him * everlastingly in willing 
homage' to the great, the honourable, and the lovely in cha- 
racter. A remarkable passage to this effect we quote from 
his acconnt of his youdi. 

' I betook me among those lofty fables and romances, which re- 
count in soleiun cantos, the deeds of knighthood founded by our vic- 
torious kings, and from hence hnd in renown over all Christendom. 
There I read it in the oath of every knight, that he should defend 
to the expense of his best blood, or of his life, if it so befel him, 
the honour and chastity of virgin or matron ; from whence even then 
I learned what a noble virtue chastity sure must be, to the defence 
of which so many worthies, by such a dear adventure of themselves, 
had sworn ; • * • So that even these books, which to many others 
have been the fuel of wantonness and loose living, 1 cannot think 
how, unless by divine indulgence, proved to me so many incite- 
ments, OS you have heard, to the love and stedfast observation of 
virtue.' — Ibid. 

All Milton's habits were expressive of a refined and self- 
denying character. When charged by his unprincipled slan- 
derers with hcentious habits, he thus gives an account of his 
mortung hours. 

* Those morning haunts are where they should be, at home ; not 
sleeping, or concocting the surfeits of an irregular feast, but up and 
stirring, in winter often ere the sound of any bell awake men to la- 
bour, or to devotion ; in summer as oft with the bird that first rouses, 
or not much tardier, to read good authors, or cause them to be read. 



2C JOHN MILTOX. 

till the attention be weary, or memory have its full fraught ; the^ 
with useful and generous labours preserving the body's health awl 
hardiness to render lighUonie, clear, and not lumpish obedience ta 
the mind, to the cause of religion, and our country's liberty, when A 
shall require firm hearls in fiound bodies to stand and cover thw 
stations, rather than to see the ruin of our protestation, and the en-. 
forcement of a slavish life.' — Vol. I. p. 220. 

We have enlarged on the strictness and lolliness of Miltonf^ 
virtue, not only from our intere:^! in the subject, but that wft 
may put to shame and silence those men who make renins aa 
apology for vice, and take the sacred fire, kindlea by Goq 
within them, to inliame men'a passions, and to minister to^ 
vile sensuality. % 

We see Milton's greatness of mind in his fervent and con> 
slant attachment to liberty. Freedom in all its forms Bti4 
branches was dear to him, but especially freedom of thouglit 
and speech, of conscience and worship, freedom to seek, pror 
fess and propagate ti'Uth. Tlie liberty of ordinary politician^ 
which protects men's outward rights, and removes restraintt 
to the pursuit of property and outward good, fell very short 
of that, for which Milton hved and was ready to die. TM 
tyranny which he hated must, was that which broke the intd* 
lectual and moral power of tlie community. The worst foti 
turc of the institutions which he assailed was, diat they fet^ 
tered the mind. He felt within himseltj that the human mind 
had a principle of perpetual growth, that it was essential!^ 
diiFusive and made for progress, and lie wished every cbaia 
broken that it might run the race of truth and virtue with iat 
creasing ardour and success. This attachment to a spiritual 
and refined freedom, which never forsook him in the hottest 
controversies, contributed greatly to protect his genius, imii8t>> 
nation, taste, and sensibility from the withering and poIluUM 
influences of public station, and of the rage of parties. & 
threw a hue of poetry over politics, and gave a sublime refer* 
ence to his service of the commonwealth. The ikct that Mil^ 
ton, in that stormy day, and amidst the trials of public office^, 
kept his high faculties undepraved, was a proof ot no common 
greatness. Politics, however they make tlie intellect acUv^ 
sagacious, and inventive, within a certain sphere, generally 
extinguish its thirst for universal truth, paralyse sentiment 
and imagination] corrupt the simplicity of tlie mind, destroy 
that conndence in human virtue, which lies at the foundation 
of philanthropy and generous sacrifices, and end in cold and 
prudent selfishness. Milton passed through a revolution, 
which, in its hist stiigcs and issue, was peculiarly fitted to 




JOII\ MILTOX. 

' damp enthusiasm, to scatter the visions of hope, and to infuse 
doubts of the reality of virtuous principle; nndyet the ardour, 
and moral feeling, and enthusiasm of his youth came forth 
unhurt, and even exalted from the trial. 

Before quitting the subject of Milton's devotion to liberty, 
it ought to be recorded, that he wrote his celebrated 'Defence 
of the People of England ' atier being distinctly forewarned by 
his physicians, that the effect of tins exertion would be the 
utter loss of sight. His reference to this part of his history 
in a fihort poetical effusion is loo characteristic to be withheld. 
It is inscribed to Cyriac Skinner, the friend to whom he op- 
pears to have confided his lately discovered 'Treatise on 
Christian Doctrine.' 



i 
i 



' Cyriac, this three years day these eyes, though clear. 

To outward view, of blemish or of spot. 

Bereft of light their seeing have forgot, 

Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear 

fsun, or moon, or star throughout the year, 

Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not 

Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot 

Of heart or hope ; but Btill bear up and steer 
Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask ? 

The conscience. Friend, to have lost them overply'd 

In liberty's defence, my noble task, 
Qf which all Europe rings from sidt to side, 

This thought might l^d ine through the world's vain maak, 

Content though blind, had 1 no better guide.' — Sonne! XXII, 



We see Milton's magnanimity in the circumstances imder 
which Paradise Lost was written. It was not in prosperity, 
in honour, and amidst triumphs, but in disappointment, de- 
sertion, and in what the world calls disgrace, that he composed 
that work. The cause, with which he had identified himself, 
had failed. His friends were scattered ; Uberty was trodden 
under foot ; and her devoted champion was a by-word among 
the triumphant royalists. But it is the prerogative of true 
greatness to glorify itself in adversity, and to meditate and ex- 
ecute vast enterprises in defeat. MUton, fallen in outward 
condition, afflicted witli blindness, disappointed in his best 
hopes, applied himself with characteristic energy to the sub- 
limest achievement of intellect, solacing himself witli great 
thoughts, with splendid creations, and with a prophetic con- 
fidence, that however n^ I ecied in his own age, be was framing 
in his works a bond of union and fellowship with the illustrious 
ipirits of a brichter day. We delight to contemplate him in 
bii retreat and last years. To the passing spectator, be seemed 




JOriN MILTOV. 

fallen and forsaken, and liis blindness was reprouched as i ' 
judgment from God. But tliougli sightless, he lived in light 
His inward eye ranged through universal nature, and his 
imagination shed on it brighter beams tlian thesun. Heaven, 
and Hell, and Paradise were open to him. He visitetl past 

Xs, and gathered round him ancient sages and heroes, pro- 
its and apostles, brave knights and gifted bards. As he 
looked forward, ages of liberty dawned and rose to his view, 
and he felt, that he was about to bequeath to litem an inhe- 
ritance of genius 'which would not fade away,' and was to live 
in the memory, reverence and love of remotest generations. 

We have enlarged on Milton's character not only from 
tlie pleasure of paying that sacred debt, which the niind owes 
to him who has quickened and delighted it, but from an ap- 
prehension that Milton has not yet reaped his due harvest of 
esteem and veneration. The mists, which the prejudices and 
bigotry of Johnson spread over his bright name, are not yet 
wholly scattered, though fast passing away. We wish not to 
disparage Johnson. We could find no pleasure in sacrificing 
one great man to the manes of anotlier. But we owe it lo 
Milton and to other illustrious names to say, that Johnson has 
failed of the highest end of biography, which is to give immoiy J 
tality to virtue, and to call forth tervent admiration toward" 
those who have shed splendour on past ages. We nccjui 
Johnson, however, of intentional misrepresentation. He dim 
not and could not appreciate Milton. We doubt whethei 
two other minds having so little in common as those of wbicji 
we are now speaking, can be found in the higher walks ^' 
literature, - Johnson was great in his own sphere, but t^^ 
sphere was comparatively ' of tlie earth ;' whilst Milton's w^ 
only Inferior to that of angels. It was customary in the dn 
of Johnson's glory to call him a Giant, to class him with 4 
mighty but stUi an earth-born race. Milton we should raoB 
among Seraphs. Johnson's mind acted chiefly on iuaa*il 
actual condition, on the realities of life, on the springs of hih 
man action, on the passions which now agitate society, anr 
lie seems hardly to have dreamed of a higher state of the hu, 
man mind than was then exhibited. Milton, on the otherH 
hand, burned with a deep yet calm love of moral grandeur 
and celestial purity. He tliought not so much of what man 
is, as of what he might become. His own mind was a reve- 
lation to him of a higher condition of humanity, and to pro- 
mote this he tliirsted and toiled for freedom, as the element 
for the growth and improvement of his naune. — In religlwi 
Johnson was gloomy and inclined to superstition, and on the 



JOHN MILTON. '2'J 

r«Dbject of gov e rumen I leaned towards absolute power; and 
the idea of refomjing either never entered his mind but to 
disturb and provoke it. The thurcli and the civil polity under 
which he lived seemed to him perfect, unless he may have 
thought that the former would be improved by a larger in- 
fusion of Romish rites and doctrines, and the latter by an en- 
largement of the royal prerogative. Hence a tame acquies- 
cence in tlie present forms of religion and government marks 
his works. Hence we find so little in his writings, which is 
electric and soul-kindling, and which gives the reader a con- 
sciousness of beuig made for a state of loftier thought and 
feeling than the present. Milton's whole soul, on tne con* 
trary, revolted against the maxims of legitimacy, hereditary 
fiutb, and servile reverence for cstabhshed power. He could 
not brook the bondage to which men had bowed for ages. 
'Reformation' was the first word of public warning wmch 
broke from his youthful lips, and tile hope of it was a fire in 
his aged breast. The difference between Milton and John- 
son may be traceii not only in these great features of mind, 
but in their whole characters. Milton was refined and spi- 
ritual in his habits, temperate almost to abstemiousness, and 
refreshed himself aiier intellectual effort by music Johnson 
inclined to more sensual delights. Milton was exnuisitely 
alive to the outward creation, to sounds, motions, ana forms, 
to natural beauty and grandeur. Johnson, through defect of* 
physical organization, il' not through deeper deficiency, had 
litiJe susceptibility of these pure and delicate pleasures, and 
would not have exchanged the Strand for the vale of Tempe 
or the gardens of the Hesperides. How could Johnson be 
jost to Milton ! The comparison, which we have instituted, 
has compelled us to notice Johnson's defects. But we trust 
we are not blind to his merits. His stately march, his pomp 
and power of language, his strength of thought, his reverence 
for virtue and religion, his vigorous Ic^ic, his practical wis- 
dom, his insight into the springs of human action, and the 
stdemn pathos which occasionally pervades his descriptions 
of life and his references to his own history, command our 
willing admiration. That he wanted enthusiasm, and creative 
ima^nation, and lofty sentiment, was not his fault We do 
not blame him for not being Milton. We love intellectual 
power in all its forms, and delight in the variety of mind. 
We blame him only, that his passions, prejudices, and bi- 
gotry engaged him in the unworthy task of obscuring the 
bri^ter glory of one of the most gifted and virtuous men. 
We would even treat what we deem the faults of Johnson with 

^*:|<:iidemess approaching respect ; for they weift te^vAu, \n 




JOHN Mll.TOV. 

a degree which man cannot estimate, of a diseased, irritable^ 
nci'vous, unhappy physical temperament, and belonguil to the 
body more than to the mind. We only ask the triends of 
genius not to put their faith in Johnson's delineations of it. 
His biographical works are tinged with his notoriously strong 

Srejudices, and of all his ' Lives,' we hold that of Milton to 
i the most apocryphal. 
We here close our general remarks on Milton's intellectual 
and moral qualities. We venerate him as a man ofgeniusi^— 
but still more as a man of magnanimity and christian virtue! 
who regarded genius and poetry as sacred gifts, imparted tff 
him not to amuse men, or to build up a reputation, hut th^ 
he might quicken and coll forth what was great and divine 
in his fellow-creatures, and might secure the only true fam^ 
the admiration of minds which his writings were to kintUi. 
and exalt 

4 
We come now to the examination of the newly discovered 
•Treatise on Christian Doctrine.' This work, we have si '" 
owes its chief interest to the character of its author. Fi 
its very nature, it cannot engage and fix general attention, 
consists very much of collections of texts of scripture, vihii._, 
however exciting in their proper places, are read with lit^i 
thought or emotion when taken from their ordinary connexion* 
and marshalled under systematic heads. Milton aims to gi* 
us the doctrines of revelation in its own words. We hai 
them in a phraseology long familiar to us, and we i 
appointed ; for we expected to see them, not in the langui _ 
of the Bible, but as existing in the mind of Milton, modiBi 
by his peculiar intellect and sensibility, combined and einj 
bodied witli his various knowledge, illustiated by the an»j 
logies, brightened by the new lights, and clothed with the as? 
sociations with which they were surrounded by this giftecl 
man. We hoped to see these doctrines as they were viewed' 
by Milton in his moments of solemn feeling and deep cod 
temptation, when they pervaded and moved his whole sonL 
Still there are passages in which Milton's mind is laid opeq 
to us. We refer to the parts of the work, where the pecik* 
liarity of his opinions obliges him to state his reasons (or 
adopting them ; and these we value highly, for the vigour and 
independence of intellect with which tliey are impressed. 
The work is plain and unambitious in style. Its characteris- 
tics are a calm earnestness, and that profound veneration for 
scripture, which certain denominadons of Christians, who have 
little congeniality with Milton, seem to claim as a monopoly. 
His introduction is worthy every man's attention, as a de- 



FJOIIN MILTOy. 
liberate, mild assertion of the dearest right of human nature, 
that of free inquiry. 

'If I communicate the result of my inquiries to the world at large; 
if, as God is my witness, it be with a friendly and benignant feeling 
towards mankind, that 1 readily give ns wide a circulation as posnible 
to what I esteem my hest and richest possession, I hope to meet with 
a candid reception from all parties, and that none at least will take 
unjust offence, even though many thingf should he brought to light, 
which will at once be seen to difl'er from certain received opinions. 1 
earnestly beseech all lovers of truth, not to cry out that the church 
is thrown into confusion by that freedom of discussion and inquiry, 
which is granted to the schools, and ought certainly to be refused to 
no believer, since we are ordered lo prove all things, and since the 
daily progress of the light of truth is productive far less of disturb- ' 
ance to the church, than of illumination and edidcalion.' — Vol. I. 

' It has also been my object to make it appear from the opinions I 
shall be found to have advanced, whether new or old, of how much 
tronaequence to the christian religion is the liberty, not only of win- 
nowing and sifting every doctrine, but also of thinking and even 
writing respecting it, according to our individual faith and persuasion ; 
an inference which will be ulronger in proportion to the weight 
and importance of those opinions, or rather in proportion to the au- 
thority of scripture, on the abundant testimony of which they rest. 
Without thiB libertv there is neither religion nor gospel — force atone 
prevails, — by which it is disgraceful for the chrisiiun religion to be 
supported. Without this liberty we are still enslaved not indeed, 
as formerly, under the divine law, but, what is worst of all, und^ the 
law of man, or tu speak more truly, under a barbarous tyranny.' — 
Vol. I. pp. 7,8. 

Oil ifial great subject, the character of God, Milton has 
given nothinw particularly worthy of notice, except thai he is 
more disposed than CbrLstians in general, to conceive of the Su- 
preme Being under the forms and affections of human nature. 

' If God habituallv assign to himself the members and form of man , 
why should we be afraid of atlrtbuting to him what he attributes to 
himself, so long as what is imperfection and weakness, when viewed 
in reference to ourselves, be considered as most complete and excel' 
le nl whenever it is imputed to God.' — Vol. I. p. 23. 

Milton is not the first Christian, who has thought to render 
the Supreme Being more interesting by giving him human 
shape. We doubt the wisdom of this expedient. To spi- 
ritualize our conceptions of him, seems to us the true process 
for strengthening our intimacy with him ; for in liijs way only 
can we tliink of him as immediately present to our muidii. As 
far as we give him a material form, wc must assign to liim a 




JOHN' MILTON'. 

place, and that place will almost neceasariljr be a distant on^ . 
and thus we !>liall remove him from the soul which is his true 
temple. Besides, a definite form clashes with God's infinity, 
which is his supreme distinction, and on no account to be ob- 
scured ; for strange as it may seem to tliuae who know ngC' ] 
their own nature, this incomprehensible attribute, is thi 
which above all things constitutes the correspondence or adaj 
tation, if we may so speak, of God to the hummi miml. 

In treating of God's Efficiency, Milton strenuonsly malfll 
tains human freedom, in opposition to the Calvinislic uoctria" 
of predestination. He maintains, th&t God's decrees do a 
encroach on moral liberty ; for our free agency is the ^ 
object decreed and predestined by the Creator. He maJ 
tains that some of the passages oi scripture, which speak , 
election, are to be understood of an election to outward privi 
leges, not to everlasting life; and that in otiier texts, whio' 
relate to the future state, the election spoken of is not an atbi 
trary choice of individuals, but of that class or description e 
persons, be it large or small, who shall comply with the pre 
scribed terms of salvation; in other words, it is a conditions], 
not an absolute election, and such that every individual, if bi-U 
will, may be included in it. Milton has so far told us trutbLJ 
We wisn we could add, that he had thrown new light on frefffl 
agency. This great subject has indeed bnfHed as yet thsj 
deepest thinkers, and seems now to be consigned with oth^l 
gublijne topics, under the sweeping denomination of metaphntfl 
sics, to general neglect But let it not be given up in despaixn 
The time is coming, when the human intellect is to strike int^^^fl 
new fields, and to view itself, and its Creator, and the uoi^l 
verse from new positions, and we trust tliat the darkneiHl. | 
which has so long hung over our moral nature will be gra^ J 
dually dispersed. This attribute of free agency, througb 1 
which an intelligent being is strictly and properly a cause, Bit J 
agent, an originator, of moral good or moral evil, and not i 
mere machine, deterntined by outward influences or by a $» 
cret yet resistless efficiency of God, which virtually makeS!*! 
Him the author and only author of all human actions,^-tlii» 
moral freedom, which is the best image of the creative energi 
of the Deity, seems to us the noblest object of philosophica 
investigation. However questioned and darkened by a host 
of metaphysicians, it is recogiiised in the common conscious 
ness of every human being. It is the ground of responsibihty^ 
the Ibuntain of moral feeling. It is involved in all moral judg^ 
ments and aflections, and thus gives to social life its whoTv J 
interest ; whilst it is the chief tie between the soul and it* J 



JOHN' WII/IUN. 

Creator. Tlie lact, that philosopheis liuvt atleniiited to dis- 
card free agency from their explanatioiitj ol' moral phsnomena, 
and to iiubject all liutnan action to necessity, to mechanical 
causes, or other tfxirniieous influences, is proof enough, tliat 
the science of the mind has as yet penetrated little bcneatli 
the surface, that the depths of the soul are still unexplored. 

Milton naturally passes from his chapter on the i^upreme 
Being to the consideration of those topics, which have always 
been connected with this part of theology; we mean the cha- 
racter of Jesus Christ, and the nature of the Holy Spirit. All 
our readers are probably an are tljat Milton has nere declared 
himself an and-trinitariun, and strenuously asserted the strict 
and proper unity of God. His chapter on ' The Son of God ' 
is the most elaborate one in the work. His 'prefatory remarks* 
are highly interesting, as joining with a manly assertion of 
his right, an atfectionate desire to concihate the Christians 
trom whom he differed. 

' 1 cannot enter upon subjeeU of so much difficully as the Son of 
God and the Huli/ Spirit, without again premising a few introductory 
words. If indeed I were a member of the church of Rome, which 
requires implicit obedience to its creed on all points of faiiii, I should 
have acquiesced from education or habit in its simple decree and au- 
thority, even though it denies that the doctrine of the trinity, as now 
received, ix capable of being proved from any passage of Scripture. 
Ilut since I enrol myself among the number of those who acknowledge 
the word of God alone a.s the rule of fnith, and freely advance what 
appears to me much more clearly deducible from the Holy Scriptures 
than the commonly received opinion, 1 see no reason why any one 
who belongs to the same Protestant or Reformed Church, and pro- 
fewes to acknowledge the same rule of faith as myself, should take 
ofTenre at my freedom, particularly as I impose my authority on no 
one, but merely propose what 1 think more worthy of belief than the 
creed in general acceptation. I only entreat that my readers will 
ponder and examine my statements in a spirit which desires to dis- 
cover nothing hut the truth, and with a mind free from prejudice. 
For without intending to oppose the authority of Scripture, whicli I 
consider Inviolably sacred, I only take upon myself to refute human 
Interpretations aii often as the occasion requires, conformably to my 
right or rallier to mv duty as a man. If Indeed those with whom I have 
to contend were able to produce direct attestation from heaven to the 
troth of the doctrine which they espouse, it would be nothing less 
than impiety to venture to raise, 1 do not say a clamour, but so much 
ax a murmur against It. But inasmuch as they can lay claim to no- 
thing more than human powers, assisted by that spiritual lliumination 
which is common to all, it is not unreasonable that they should on 
iheir part allow the privileges of diligent research and free discussion 
to another inquirer, who is seeking truth through the same means and 




§; 



JOH.V MU.TOX. 

e way aa themaclves, and whose desire of benefiling n 
bind is equal lo Iheir own."— Vol. 1. pp. 103, 104, 105. 

MiltoD teaches, that the Son of God is it distinct beiug from 
God, itnd inferior to liim, that he existfd before the world was 
made, that he is the first of the creation of God, and that afler- 
wards, all other things were made by him, as the instrument or 
minister of his Father, He maintains, in agreement witJi Dr. 
Clarke, that the Holy Spirit is a person, an intelligent agent, 
but created and inferior to God. This opinion of Milton is 
the more remarkable, because he admits, tliat before the time 
of Christ, the Jews, though accustomed to the phrase. Holy 
Spirit, never attached to it the idea of personality, and that 
both in the Old and the New TeslanieTit, it is olteii used to 
express God himself or bis power. and agency. It is strange, 
that after these concessions, he could have found a difficulty in 
ving a figurative interpretation to the few passages in the 
ew Testament, which speak of the Holy Spirit as a person. 
We are unable within our limits to give a sketch of Milton's 
strong reasoning against the Supreme Divinity of Jesus Christ. 
We must, however, pause a moment to thank God that he has 
raised up this illustrious advocate of the long obscured doc- 
trine of the Divine Unity. We can now bring forward the 
three greatest and noblest minds of modern times, and we may 
add of the christian era, as witnesses to that Great Truth, of 
which in an humbler and narrower sphere, we desire lo be the 
defenders. Our Trinitarian adversaries are perpetually ring- 
ing in our ears the names of Fatkers and Reformers. We 
talce Milton, Locke and Newton, and place tbem in our front, 
and want no others to oppose to the whole array of great 
names on the opposite side. Before these intellectual suns, 
the stars of self-named orthodoxy ' hide their diminished heads.' 
To these eminent men, God communicated such unusual mea- 
sures of light and mental energy, that their names spring up 
spontaneously, when we think or would speak of the greatness 
of our nature. Their theological opinions were the fruits of 
patient, profound, reverent study of the Scriptures. They 
came to this work, with minds not narrowed by a technical, 
professional education, but accustomed to broad views, to the 
widest range of thought. ITiey were shackled by no party 
connexions. They were warped by no clerical ambition, and 
.subdued by no clerical timidity. They came lo this subject 
in die fulness of dieir strength, with free minds open to truth, 
and with unstained purity of life. They came to it, in an age, 
when the doctrine of the Trinity was instilled by educalion, 



oaia 

■ ft tu 



JOHX MU.'ruv. 3S 

•fld upheld by the luithority of the cliurcli, and by penal laws. 
(Ha these great anil good men, whose intellecluttl 
I love of truth have ninde^thein the chief benefao- 
liumnn mind, — what, we ask, (lid they discover in 
the Scriptures? a triple divinityi' three infinite ngents? three 
infinite objects of worship ? three persons, each of whom pos- 
sesses his own distinct offices, and yet shares equally in the 
godhead with the rest ? No ! Scripture joined with nature 
and with thaf secret voice in the heart, which even idolatry 
could not always stifle, and taught them to bow reverently be- 
fore the One Infinite Father, and tu ascribe to Him alone su- 
preme, self-existent Divinity.— 'Our principal object in these 
remarks has been to show, that as far as great names are ar- 
guments, the cause of anti-trinitarianisni, or of God's proper 
Unity, is supported by the strongest. But we owe it to trutl^ 
to say, that we put little trust m these fashionable proofs. 
The chief use of great names in religious controversy is to 
balance and neutralize one another, that the unawed and un- 
ftttered mind may think and judge with a due self-reverence, 
^ d with a solemn sense of accouiitableiiesf^ to God alone. 

We have called Milton an anti-trinitarian. But we have no 
Asire to identify him with any secU His mind was too inde- 
pendent and universal to narrow itself to human creeds and 
parlies. He is snpposed to have separated himself in his last 
years from all the denominations around him; and were he now 
living, we are not sure that he would find one to which he 
would be strongly attracted. He would probably stand first 
among that class of Christians, more numerous than is sup- 
posed, and, we hope, increasing, who are too jealous of the 
rights of the mind, and too dissatisfied with the clashing sy- 
stems of the age, to attach themselves closely to any party; in 
whom the present improved state of theologj- has created a 
consciousness of defect, rather than the triumph of acquisition ; 
who, however partial to th^r own creed, cannot persivide them- 
selves, that it is the ultimate attainment of the human mind, 
and that di^itant ages will repeat its articles as reverently as the 
Catholics do the decrees of Trent ; who contend earnestly for 
free inquiry, not because all who inquire will think as they do, 
bat because some at least may be expected to outstrip them, and 
to be guides to higher truth. Witli this nameless and spread- 
IB^ class, we have strong sympathies. We want new light, and 
^eare not whence it comes ; we want reformers worthy of the 
name; and we should rejoice in such a manifestation of Chris- 
tianity, as would throw all present systems into obscurity. 

We come now to a topic, on which Milton will probably 
^rde a majority of readers. He is totally op'posc.d, asi >Neife 



36 JOHN MILTOX. 

most of tlie ancient philosophers, to the doctrine of Gu<l'« 
creating tlie universe out of nothing. He maintains, timt there 
can be no action without a passive material on which the act. 
is exerted, and that accordingly tlte world was framed out of a 
pre-existent matter. To the question, what and whence i« 
this primary matter? he answers, it is from God, 'an elHux itfl 
the Deitj',' ' It proceeded from God,' and consequently no ' 
additional existence was produced by creation, nor is matter 
capable of annihilation. A specimen of his speculations oo 
this subject is given in the following quotation. 

' It is clear then that the world was framed out of matter of Bome 
bind or other. For since action and pHs^ion are relative terms, an4| 
Rince, consequently, no agent can act externally, unless there be soi 
patient, such ns matter, it appears impossible that God could he 
created this world out of nothing ; not from any defect of power 
his part, but because it was necessary that something; should have 
previously existed capable of receiving passively the exertion of the 
divine efficacy. Since, therefore, both Scripture and reason concur in 
pronouncing that all these things were made, not out of nothfng, but 
out of matter, it necessarily follows, that matter must either have 
always existed Independently of God, or have originated from God at 
■ome particular point of time. . That matter Bhould have been always 
independent of God, (seeing that it is only a passive principle, depen- 
dent on the Deity, and subservient to him; and seeing, moreover, 
that as in number, considered abstractly, so also in time or eternity 
there is no inherent force or efficacy,) that matter, 1 say, should have 
existed of itself from all eternity, is inconceivable. If on the contrary 
it did not exist from all eternity, it is difficult to understand from 
whence it derives its origin. There remains, therefore, but one solu- 
tion of the difficulty, for which moreover we have the authority of 
Scripture, namely, that all things are of God.' — Vol. I. pp. 236, 237. 

This doctrine naturally led Milton to another, viz. that 
there is no ground for the supposed distinction between body 
and soul ; for if matter is an ' efflux of the Deity,' it is plainly 
susceptib|,e of intellectual functions. Accordingly our author 
affirms, 

' That man is a living being, intrinsically and properly one and in- 
dividual, not compound or separable, not, according to the common 
opinion, made up and framed of two distinct and diflerent natures, as 
of soul and body, — but the whole man is soul, and the soul man, that 
is to say, a body, or substance individual, animated, sensitive, and 
rational.'— Vol, I. pp.250, 251. 

Weherelearn that a passage in Paradise Lost, which we have 
sdmlred as poetry, was deemed by Milton sound philosophy. 
' O Adam, one Almighty is, from whom 
All things proceed, and up to him return. 
If not depraved from good, created all 






JOHN MILTON, 



37 J 



Such to perfettiou, onejirtt mailer all. 
Indued with various forms, various degrees 
OfaubBtance, and in things that live, of life j 
But more refined, more spiritous, and pure, 
As nearer to him plac'd, ur nearer tending 
Each in their several active spheres assign'd. 
Till body up to tpiiit mor/i, in bounds 
Proportion'd to eacli Icind. So from the root 
Spnngs lighter the green stalli, from thence the leaves 
More aery, last the bright consummate flower 
Spirits odorous breathes ; floWra and their fruit, 
Man's nourishment, by gradual scale subhmed. 
To vital spirits aspire, to animal. 

To inltlleclHal.- Par. Lost, b. v. lines 469 — 185. 

These speculations oF Milton will be receiveci in this age 
•ith more favour or with less aversion, than in his own ; for, 
rom the time of Locke, the discussions of philosophers have 
[lentled to unsettle our notions of matter, and no man is hardy 
lough now to say, what it is, or what it may not be. The 
falism of Berkeley, though It has never organized a sect, has 
B^t sensibly influenced the modes of thinking among metaphy- 
sicians ; and the coincidence of this system with the theory of 
tain Hindoo philosophers, may leatl us to suspect, that it 
intains some great latent truth, of which the European and 
Hindoo intellect, so generally at variance, have caught a 
^mpse. Matter is indeed a I'roteus, which escapes us at the 
roroent we ho}>e to seize it Priestley was anxious to make 
le soul material; but for this purpose, he was obliged to 
B^liange matter from a substance into a power, that is, into no 
latter at all ; so that he destroyed in attempting to difTuse 
We have thrown out these remarks, to rescue Milton's 
lemor^' from the imputadon, which he was the last man to 
ierve, of irreverence towards God; for ofthis some will deem 
__ii guilty in tracing matter to the Deity as its fountain. 
Hatter, which seems to common people so intelligible, is still 
..•apt in mystery. We know it only by its relation to mind, 
r as an assemblage of powers to awaken certain sensations. 
)f its relation to God, we may be said to know notliing. 
^rhaps, as knowledge advances, we shall discover that the 
r is bound to his works by stronger and more intimate 
i, tlian we now imagine. We do not then quarrel with such 

sstions as Milton's, though we cannot but wonder at the 

trnestness with which he follows out such doubtful speculations. 
Milton next proceeds to the consideration of niun's state 
B Paradise, and as marriage was the only social relation then 
kibsisting, he introduces here his views of that institution, 
" d of polygamy, and divorce. These views sWv;, \^no\,S\v«. 
atdness, yet the characteristic independence <A V\s rpivnA. 



38 JOHN MILTON. 

No part of his book hns f^ven such offence as )iis doctrine of 
the lawfulness of polygamy, and yet no where is iie less 
liable to reproach. It is plain that his error was founded an 
his reverence for Scripture. He saw that polygamy was al- 
lowed to the l>est men in the Old Testament, to pati-iarchi 
before the law, who, he says, were the objects of God's sp» 
cial favour, and to eminent individuals in subsequent aged; 
and linding no prohibition of it in the New Testament, h* 
believed, Uiat not only holy men would be traduced, but 
Scripture dishonoured, by pronouncing it morally evil. We 
are aware that some will say, that the practice is condemneA 
in the New Testament; and we grant that it is censured' 
by implication in these words of Christ, ' Whosoever shdl^ 
put away his wife, except it be for fornication, and ehall 
marry anotlier, commlttetli adultery.'* But we believe it b 
be an indisputable fact, that although Christianity was fin 
preached in Asia, which had been hxim the earliest ages t}- 
seat of polygamy, the Apostles never denounced it as a crim 
and never reciuired their converts to put away all wives bofi 
one. What then ? some may say, ' are you too the adn>4 
cates of the lawfulness of polygamy ';" We answer. No. W«i 
consider our religion as decidedly hostile to this practices 
and we add, what seems to us of great importance, that tfaia 
hostility is not the less decided, because no express prold«i 
bition of polygamy is found in the New Testament; fta f 
Christianity is not a system of precise legislation, marking 
out with literal exactness every thing to be done, and every 
thing to he avoided ; but an inculcation of broiid principles, 
whimi it entrusts to individuals and to society to be applied 
according to their best discretion. It is through this gene- 
rous peculiarity, that Christianity is fitted to be a universal 
reli^on. Through this, it can subsist and blend itself with 
all stages of society, and can live in the midst of abuses, 
which It silently and powerfully overcomes, but agoinst which 
it would avail little, were it immediately to lift up the voice of 
deinmciation. We all know, that long-cherished corruptions, 
which have sent their roots through the whole frame of a com- 
muiiily, cannot be torn up at once, without dissolving society. 
To Christianity is committed the sublime oiBce of eradicating 
atl the errors and evils of the world ; but this it does by a 
process corresponding with man's nature, by working a gi-a- 
dual revolution in the mind, which in its turn works a safe and 
cll'ectuai revolution in manners and life. No argument, there- 
fore, in favour of a practice can be adduced from the fact, 
that it is not explicitly reprobated in the New TestamenL 

* Mnlt. xi\,9. J 




JOHN MILTON. 39 

llfor example, Christianity went forth into communities, where 
^tmiiltitudes were held in slavery, and all ranks were ground 
md oppressed by despotism ; abuses on which the spirit of 
wr religion frowns as sternly as ou any whicti can be named. 
Set Christianity did not command the master to free his slaves^ 
■Jbr the despot to descend from his absolute throne ; but satis- 
(ified itself with proclaiming sublime trutlis in regard to God's 
fwtemal character and administration, and broad and gene- 
rous principles of action : leaviajr to tliese the work of break- 
ing every chain by a gradual, inward, irresistible influence, aud 
ofasserting the essential equality and mialienable rights of the 
whole human race. — We cannot leave this topic, without add- 
ing, that not only Milton's error on polygamy, but many oilier 
noxious mistakes, have resulted from measuring Christianity 
by tlie condition of the primitive church, as if that were the 
standard of faith and practice, as if every thing allowed then 
were wise and good, as if the religion were then unfolded in 
all its power and extent. The truth is, that Christianity was 
then in its infancy. The Aposdes communicated its great 
truths to the rude minds of Jews and Heathens ; but the pri- 
mitive church did not and could not understand ail that was 
inrolvedin those principles, all diaapplicatians of which they 
are susceptible, ail tlie influences they were to exert on the 
human mind, all the combinations they were to form with tlie 
new troths which time was to unfold, all the new lights in 
which they were to be placed, all the adaptations to human nn- 
tore and to more advanced stales of society, which they were 
prt^essively to manifest. In the first age the religion was 
administered with a wise and merciful conlbiniily to the capa- 
cities of its recipients. With the progress of intelligence, and 
the developementof the moral faculties, Christianity is freeing 
itself, and ought to be freed, from the local, temporary aud ac- 
cidental associations of its childhood. Its great principles are 
coming forth more distinctly and brightly, and condemning 
abuses and errors, which have passed current for ages. This 
«reat truth, for such we deem it, that Christianity is a growing 
■vght, and that it must be more or less expoimded by every 
'■ ge for itself, was not sufliciently apprehended by Milton ; 
tor is it now understood as it will be. For want of appre- 
Klhending it, Christianity is administered now too nuith as it 
MTOS in aces, when nothing of our literature, philosophy, and 
r%pirit of improvement existed ; and consequently it does not, 
" We fear, exert that entire and supreme sway over strong and 
cultivated minds which is its due, and which it must one day 
obtain. 

Milton lias connected with polygamy the subjccl ot Aiviotw^ 




oil which he is known to have differed from many Chribliana.tJ 
He strenuously maintains in the work under review, and more 
lai'gely in other treatises, that the violation of the marriage 
bea is not the sole ground of divorce, but thai ' the perpetual 
interruption of peace and affection by mutual differences and 
unkindness is a sufficient reason,' for dissolving the conjugal 
relation. On this topic we cannot enlarge. 

We now arrive at that part of Milton's work, in which Ins 
powerful mind might have been expected to look beyond the 
prevalent opinions of his day, but in which he has followed the 
beaten road almost without deviation, seldom noticing difficul- 
ties, and hardly seeming to know their existence. We refer 
to the great subjects of the moral condition of mankind, and 
of redemption by Jesus Christ. The doctrine of original sin 
be has assumed as true, and his faith in it was evidently 
strengthened by his doctrine of the identity of the soul witn 
the body, in consequence of which he teaches, that souls are 
propagated from parents to children, and not immediately de- 
rived trom God, and that they are born with an hereditary 
taint, just as the body contracts hereditary disease. It is humi- 
liating to add, that he supports this doctrine of the propagation 
of sin by physical contagion, on the ground, that it relieves 
the Creator from the charge of originating the corruption 
which we are said to bring into life; as if tlie infinllely pure 
and good God could, by a covert agency, infect with moral 
evil the passive and powerless mind of the infant, and then 
absolve himself of the horrible work by imputing it to instru- 
ments of his own ordination ! Milton does not, however, be- 
lieve in total depravity, feeling that this would free men from 
guilt, by taking away all power ; and he therefore leaves us a 
portion of the divine image, not enough to give us a chance of 
virtue, but enough to take away excuse from sin. Such are 
the ' lender mercies ' of theology ! With respect to Christ's 
mediation, he supposes, that Christ saves us by bearing our 
punishment and in this way satisfying God's justice. His 
views indeed are not expressed with much precision, and seem 
to have lieen formed without much investigation. On these 
great subjects, of human nature and redemption, we confess^ 
we are disappointed in finding the spirit of Milton satisfying ^^ 
itself with the degrading notions which prevailed around hinb ^dji 
But we remember, that it is the oider of Providence, that tba ^^ 
greatest minds should sympathize much ivith their age, anM 
that they contribute the more to the progress of mankind, Mm 
not advancing too fiist and too far beyond their cotemporariesifl 
In this part of his work, Milton maintains, that the dealltl 
Jhi-eatened to sin extends equally to body and soul, wliich ia- 



JOIIX MILTON. 41 

deed he was bound to do, as he Iiolds the soul and body to be • 
one ; and he then proceeds to defend with his usual power the 
necessary inference, that all consciousness is suspended be- 
tween death and the resurrection. We have no ikith in this 
tloctrine, but we respect the courage with which he admits and 
maintains whatever can be fairly deduQid Irom his opinions. 

Having concluded the subject of redemption, he passes to 
what he calls ' man's renovation, or the change whereby the 
Maner is brought into a state of gracef and heie, though he is 
not always perspicuous, yet lie seldom deviates from what was 
then the beaten road. We owe it, however, to Millon, to say, 
that, aldiough he sometimes approached, he never adopted 
Calviaism. All the distinguishing articles of that creed, total 
(tepravity, election and reprobation, Christ dying for the elect 
only, irresistible grace, the perseverance of the saints, and jus- 
tification by mere faith, — all are denied and opposed by him, 
and some with great strength. Swayed as Milton was by the 
age in whi«:h he lived, his spirit could not be subdued to the 
lieart- withering faith of the Genevan School. 

We now come to a subject, .in which Milton was deeply in- 
terested, we mean Christian Liberty, under which head may 
be included the discipline of the church, the power of mtois- 
lers, and the rights of the people. To vindicate the liberty of 
Christians, and to secure them from all outward impositions 
and ordinances, he maintains that the whole Mosaic law is abo- 
lished, so that no part is binding on Christians; a doctrine 
which may startle many who believe that the moral precepts 
of that law are as binding now as ever. But such persons 
differ little in reality from Milton, whose true meaning is, that 
these precepts bind Christians, not through the authority of 
Moses, which is wholly done away, but only because they are 
taken up nod incorporated into Christianity, which is our only 
law, and which has set forth whatever was permanently valu- 
able in Judaism in a more perfect form, and with more power- 
ful sanctions. 

As another branch of the Liberty of Christians, he main- 
tains, as we may well suppose, the right of every believer to 
consult the Scriptures and to judge of them for himself. Not 
satisiied with this, he takes the ground of Quakerism, and 
maintains that the Christian, in addition to the Scriptures, has 
an inward guide, with which no human authority should in- 
terfere. 

* Under the Gospel we possess, as it were, a twofold scripture, one 

esttemal, which is the written word, and the other internal, which is 

the Holv Spirit, written in the hearts of believers, according lo the 

MOnise of God, and wiih (he intent ihnl il aViowH b>j ua tatM\^'\ie. 




• JOHN' Mil TON. 

ni-p;lcctG<l.' Vol. II. p. 172. ' The external icriplure ■ 
liable to frefi^jcnl corruption, and in some instances has been cor- 
niptcd, through tiic number, and uccn-sionatly the bnd faith of those 
by whom it ban been handed down, Ibe variety and discrepancy of 
the original mnnuscrlpts and the additional diversity produced by 
Mubxcqucnt trnnscriplit and printed editions. But the Spirit which 
IcndK ti) truth cannot ht corrupted, neither is it easy to deceive a 
miin who is really spiritual.' p. 1 73. ' It is difficult to conjecture the 
purpose of Providence in committing the writings of the New Tes- 
tament to such uncertain and variable guardianship, unless it were to 
teach UH by thiH very circumstance, thai the Spirit which Ls given to 
tin is a more certain guide than Scripture, whom, therefore, it is our 
duty to follow.' p. 174. * Hence it follows, that when an acquiescence 
in human opiiiiona or an obedience to human authority in matters of 
religion in exacted, in the name either of the church or of the christian 
magistrate, from those who are themselves led individually by the 
Spirit of God, this is in effect to impose a yoke, not on mno, but on 
the Holy Spirit itself.' p. I7(i. 

Tliis, in words, is genuine Quakerism ; but whelber Milton 
understood by the Holy Spirit that immediate revelation, which 
tbrins the teadinc doctrine of that creed, we doubt. To ibis 
doctrine it may be objected, and we think Milton must have 
felt the objection, that it disparages and discourages our facid- 
tics, and produces inaction of mind, leading men to expect 
from n siid<)en flash from heaven the truth, which we are taught 
to seek by tlic right useof our own powers. We imagine, that 
Milton believed that the Holy Spirit works with and by our 
own understandings, and, instead of superseding reason, invi- 
cornies and extends it. But diis is not die only place where 
liis precise views are obscured by general expressions, or by 
rapid nnd superficial notices of subjects. 

Iti Milton's views of the church and the ministry, we have 
other proofs of his construing die Scriptures in the manner 
most favourable to Christian Libcrtv. He teaches that die 
universal Church bus no head but Christ, nud timt the power 
arrogated by |>oi>es, councils, and bisliops, is gross usurpation. 
In rcgnn) to (lorticuinr churches, be is a strict congrt^tion- 
alist. Fjich church, ho snys, is competent to its own govern' 
mctit, nnd WHinecletl with others only by the bond of charity. 
No others arc authorized to interlere with any of its concerns, 
but in tlie vy of brotherly counsel. 

' Znrf cfattich coumtin^ of the above parts,' (i. e. w«ll inslmcted 
beUeTCrs,) ' hawewT malt its numbers, is to be coaudered as in itseU 
U integral and perfrct church, so for w rcgudi its icligioas ri^b ; 
mat kw it uiy auperior on emcth, whefter tikdivwlMa], or aasoMj, or 
conwinlioii, to whom it cwi be b<*(«l)T ivqwind ta Tender suhnunion ; 
iaasmurti »» ao beliewr out of its pale, nor ttaj ocder or councB ei 
mm jrliAietrr, hai m vrtMrr right tbaa itsrlf to npnt a prntt 



*I»nicipri|| 



JOHV MILTON'^ 

L^ the wriltcQ word and the promises, in the presence of Christ, in the 
EEiding influence of the Spirit, and in those gracious gifts which are 
e reward of united prayer.' — Vol. U> p- 193- 
'■ The choice of the minister, he says, belongs to the people. 
1e minister, if possible, should serve the church gratuitously, 
1 live by the labour of his own hands. This unpaid service 
k pronounces more noble and consonant to our Lord's exam- 
le and that of itie Apostles. In accordance wiili these views, 
e fiivoiirs the idea of a church consisting of few members. 
' All that pertains to the worship of God and the salvation of bc- 
' 1 short, that is necessary to constitute a church, may 
i duly and orderly transected in a particular church, within the wulla 
If k private house, and where the numbers assembled are inconsider- 
' . Nay, such a church, when in compliance with the interested 
s of its pastor it allows of an increase of numbeni beyond what in 
nvenient, deprtvoi itself in a great measure of the advantages to be 
arited from meeting in common.' — Vol. II, p. 194. 

■ He maintains that ministers are not to monopolize public 

truction, or the administration of the ordinances; but ihat 
1 Christians, having sufficient gifls, are to participate in these 

■vices. 

'The custom of holding assemblies is to be maintained, not after 
the present mode, but according to the apostolical institution, which 
did not ordain that an inilividual, and he a stipendiary, should have 
Ae fole right of speaking from a higher place, but that each believer 
in turn should be authorized to speak, or prophecy, or leach, or e%- 
bort, according to his gifts ; insomuch that even the weakest among 
Ibe brethren had the privilege of asking questions, and consulting the 
elders and more ei^perienced members of the congregation.' — Vol. II. 
f. 203. ' Any believer is competent to act as an ordinary misitter, 
according as convenience may require, provided only he be endowed 
wltll the necessary gifts ; these ^ha constituting his mission.' p.l53. 
• If therefore it be competent to any believer whatever to preach the 
gdKpcI, provided he be furnished with the requisite gifts, it is also 
rampeteni to him to administer the rite of baptism ) inasmuch as the 
lut«r ofEce is inferior to the former.' p. 157. * With regard to the 
Lord's supper also, it has been shown, in the preceding chapter, that 
t3& are entitled lo participate in that rile, but that the privilege of dis- 
peosiog the elements is confined to no paittcular man, or order of 

m.' p. 13S. 

L • We entirely accord with the spirit of freedom which these 

s breathe ; but from some of the particular views we 

ienL The ffreat error of Milton lies in supposing that the 

primitive church was meant to be a model for all ages. But 

can we suppose, that the church at its birth, when it was poor, 

persecutetl, hemmed in by Judaism and Heathenism, supplied 

_ jtnperiectly with written rules and records, dcpeivAeva ^qt "wir 




JOHN MIl.TOX. 

stniction chiefly on inspired teachers, and composed of converts 
who bad grown up and been steeped in Jewish and Heathen 
errors, — can we imagine, that in these circumstances the 
church took a tbrm which il ought to retain as sacred and un- 
alterable, in its triumphs, and prosperity, and difTusion, and w 
ages of greater light and refinement? We know that in 
first ages there were no ministers with salaries, or edifices 
public worship. Christians met in private houses, and aoni»* 
times in the obscurest they could find. On these occasions, 
the services were not monopolized by an individual, but shared 
hy the fraternity; nor is there a hint in the New Testament 
that the administration of the Lord's Supper and Baptism was 
confined to the minister. But in all this we have no rule for 
the present day. Indeed it seems to us utterly repugnant to 
the idea of a universal religion, intended for all ages and na- 
tions, and for all the progressive states of society to the end 
of the world, to suppose that in its infancy it established an 
order of worship, instruction and discipline, which was to re- 
main inviolable in all future times. This doctrine of an inflex- 
ible form, seems to us servile, superstitious, and disparagbig to 
Christianity. Our religion is too spiritual and inwam, and cares 
too little about its exterior, to bind Itself in this everlasting 
chain. The acknowledged indefiniteness of the New Testa- 
ment in regard to this subject, is no mean proof of the enlarged 
and pros[)ective wisdom of its founder. We believe, tliat with 
the diffusion of liberal views, the question will arise, whether 
our religion cannot be taught and administered in methods and 
forms more adapted, than those which now prevail, to its spirit 
and gi-eat design, to the principles of human nature, and to 
the condition and wants of society. Among the changes which 
may grow from tliis discussion, we do not anticipate the adop- 
tion of Milton's plan of sentencing ministers to earn their 
bread by the sweat of tlieir brow ; tor we think that we see 
reasons in the general spread of knowledge, for enlarging their 
means and opportunities of study and intellectual culture, that 
they may meet the increasing demand for more enlightened 
inculcation of Christian truth. At the same time, it seems to 
us not unlikely, that, in conformity to Milton's suggestion, pub- 
lic instruclioo, instead of continuing to be a monopoly of mi- 
nisters, may be extended freely to men of superior intelligence 
and piety, and that the results of this arrangement may be, the 
infusion of new life, power, and practical wisdom into religious 
teaching, and the substitution of a more natural, free aud va- 
rious eloquence for the technical and monotonous mode of 
treating subjects, which clings so otten and so obstinately to 
Ihti performances of the pi^pit. — Again, we do not expec^ 






JOHN' MILTOV. 45 

_ long the changes of forms and outwanl worahl|>, that Chris- 
tians, to meet our author's views, will shut their churches ami 
meet in private houses ; for large religious edifices, and large 
rongregntiuns seem to us among the important means of col- 
lecting and interesting in Christianity tlie mass of the com- 
munity. But perhaps narrower associations for religious im- 
provement may bk formed, in which the formalities of public 
worship will be relaxed, and Christians may reap the benefits 
of the more familiar and confidential meetings of the primitive 
converts. It is indeed a great question, how the public ad- 
ministration of Christianity, including modes of discipline, in- 
struction and worship, may be rendered more impressive and 
etTectual. This field is almost untrodden ; but if we read aright 
the signs of the times, the day for exploring it draws nigh. 

We have said that whilst we dissent from some of Milton's 
views on the subject of our present remarks, we agree in their 
spirit. It was evidently the aim of all his suggestions to strip 
tne clergy, as they are called, of that peculiar, artificial sanc- 
tity, with which superstition had longarrajed them, and which 
had made their simple, benignant office one of the worst in- 
struments of ambition and despotism. We believe that this 
institution will never exert its true and full power on the church 
and on the world, until the childish awe, widi which it has 
been viewed, shall be exchanged for enlightened esteem ; and 
until men, instead of expecting from it certain mysterious, un- 
defined influences, shall see in it a rational provision for con* 
veying important truth, and for promoting virtue and hap- 
piness, not by magic, but according to the fixed laws of human 
naiure. 

The remainder of the ' Treatise on Christian Doctrine' fur- 
nishes topics on which we should willingly remark ; but we 
have only time to glance at the opinions in which Milton dif- 
fers from the majority. He rejects mfant baptism, and argues 
against it witli his usual earnestness and strength. He not 
only aSirms with many other Christians, that the fourth com- 
mandment relating to the Sabbath is abolished with tlie rest 
of the Mosaic system, but maintains, what few have done, 
that under the Gospel no time is appointed for public wor- 
ship, but that the observance of the first day of the week rests 
wholly on expediency, and on the agreement of Christians. 
He believes, that Christ is to appear visibly for the judgment 
of the world, and that he will reign a thousand years on earth, 
at the end of which period Satan will assail the church with 
an innumerable confederacy, and be overwhelmed with ever- 
lasting ruin. He speaks of the judgment as beginning with 
Christ's second advent, and as comprehending hw fU^c ^*>- 



46 JOHN' MILTON'. ■ 

vernmenl through the niillenium, as well as the closing scenes J 
when sentence wiJl be pronounced on evil angels, and on the 
whole human race. — We have now given, we believe, all the 
peculiarities of Milton's faith. As for that large part of his 
work, in which he has accumulated scriptural proofs of dtxh^ 
trines ami duties in which all Christians are agreed, its g^W^f 
ral tenonr mny be understood without further remarks. ^M 
It may now be asked, what is the value of this book ? W«' 1 
prize it chiefly as a testimony to Milton's profound reverence 
for the christian religion, and an assertion of the freedom and 
rights of the mind. We are obliged to say, that the work 
throws little new light on the great subjects of which it treate. 
Some will say, that tliis ought not to surprise us ; for new 
light is not to be looked tor in the department of tlieology. 
But if this be true, our religion may be charged with tlie want 
of ntlaptation to our nature in an essential {wint ; for one of the 
most striking feature.s of the human mind is iis thirst foi* con- 
stantly enlarging knowledge, and its proneness to lose Its in- 
terest in subjects which it has exhausted. The chief cause of 
Milton's failure was, that he sought truth too exclusively in 
the past, and among the dead. He indeed called no man 
master, and disclaimed the authority of Fathers, and was evi- 
dently dissatisfied with all the sects which had preceded or 
were spread around him. Still he believed in the perfection of 
the primitive church, an<l Uiat Christianity, instead of being 
carried forward, was to he carried bac/c to its original pu- 
rity. To use his own striking language, ' the lovely form of 
truth,' which Christians at first embraced, 'had been hewn 
into a thousand pieces, like the mangled body of Osiris, and 
scattered to the four winds ;' and consequently he believed, that 
the great duty of her friends was ' to gather up limb by limb, 
and bring together every joint and member.' In conformity 
with this doctrine, he acted too much as an eclectic the- 
ologian, culling somediing from almost every sectj and en- 
deavouring to form an harmonious system from materials 
' gathered from the fonr winds.' He would have done better, 
hod he sought truth less in other minds, and more in tlie com- 
munion of his own soul with Scripture, Nature, God, and 
itself. The fact is, that the church, from its beginning, has 
been imperfect in knowledge and praclice, and our business is, 
not to rest in the past, but to use it as a means of a purer nnd 
brighter futurity. Christianity began to be corrupted at iu 
L birui, to be debased \>y earthly mixtures, as soon as it touched 
ib« eartl]. The seeds of that corruption which grew and shot 
{into theovershadowingdespotism of papal Rome, were sown 
***^ -— e of the Apostles, as we learn in the Epistles ; and we _ 




JOH\ Mir.TO.V- 



infer from the condition of the world, that nothing but a stu- 
pendous moral niiracla, subverting all the Inws of the human 
mind, could have prevented their developemenL Who, dijit 
understands human nature, does not know, thnt old nssocia- 
lions are not broken up in a moment ; that to minds, plunged 
in a midnight of error, trutli must gradually open like the 
dawning day; that old views will mingle with the new; that 
old ideas, which we wish to banish, will adhere to the old 
words to which they were formerly attached ; and that the 
sudden and entire eradication of long-rooted errors would be 
equivalent to the creation of a new intellect ? How long did 
the Apostles, under Christ's immediate tuition, withstand his 
instructions? Even Peter, after tlie miraculous illumination 
of the day of Pentecost, remained ignorant, until the message 
from CorneliuK, of that glorious feature of Christianity, tlie 
abolition of the Jewish peculiarity, and tlie equal participation 
of the Gentiles with the Jews in tlie blessings of the Messiah. 
As soon as Christianity was preached, it was blended with 
Judaism, which had power to neutralize the authority of Paul 
in many churches. In like manner, it soon began to be 'spoiled' 
of its simplicity 'by philosophy and science talsely so called,' 
and lo be encumbered by pagan ceremonies. The first Chris- 
lians were indeed bronght into 'wonderful light,' if their chris- 
tian state be compared with the darkness from which they hati 
emerged ; but not if compared with the perfection of know- 
led£;e to which Christ came to exalt tlie human race. The 
earliest Fathers, as we learn from their works, were not recep- 
tive of large communications of truth. Their writings abound 
in puerilities and marks of childish credulity, and betray that 
indistinctness of vision, which is experienced by men, who is- 
sue from thick darkness into the light of day. In the ages of 
barbarism, which followed the fall of the Roman empire, 
Christianity, though it answered wise purposes of Providence, 
was more and more disfigured and obscured. The Reforma- 
tion was indeed a glorious era; but glorious for its reduction 
of papal and clerical power, and for the partial liberation of 
ihe mind, rather than for immediate improvements of men's 
apprehensions of Christianity. Some of tne reformers invented 
or brought back as injurious errors as those they overthrew. 
Luther's consnbstantiation differed from the pope's transub- 
stantialion by a syllable, and that was all the gain; and we may 
safely say, that transubstantiation was a less monstrous doc- 
trine than the five points of Culvin. How vain, therefore, was 
Milton's search for 'the mangled Osiris,' for 'the lovely form 
and immortal features of tTuth,' m the history of the church ! 
Let us not be misunderstood, as if we would cut off vU^^t^ 



JOUS MII.TOX. 

sent age from the pasL We mean not, that Miltuii should 
have neglectet! the labours of his predecessors. He believeil 
justly, that all the periods and generations of the human family 
are bound togetlier by a sublime connexion, and that the wis- 
dom of each age is chiefly a derivation from all preceding ages^ 
not excepting the most ancient, just as a noble stream, through 
its whole extent and in its widest overflowings, still holds com- 
munication with its infant springs, gushing out perhaps in the 
depths of distant forests, or on the heights of solitary moun- 
tains. We only mean to say, that the stream of religious 
knowledge is to swell and grow through its whole course, and 
to receive new contributions from gilted minds in successive 
generations. We only regret that Milton did not draw more 
from the deep and full fountains' of his own soul. We wish 
only to teach, that antiquity was the infancy of our race, and 
that its acquisitions, instead of being rested in, are to bear us 
onward to new heights of truth and virtue. We mean not to 
complain of Milton for not doing more. He rendered to man- 
kind a far greater service than that of a teacher of an improved 
theology. He taught and exemplified that spirit of intellec- 
tual freedom, through which all the great conquests of truth 
are to be achieved, and by which the human mmd is to attain 
tu a new consciousness of its sublime faculties, and to invigo- 
rate and expand iutelf forever. 

We here close our remarks on Milton. In offering thit' 
tribute, we have aimed at somediing higher than to express 
and gratify our admiration of an eminent man. We believe 
that an enlightened and exalted mind is a brighter manifesta- 
tion of God than the outward universe ; and we have set forth, 
as we have been able, the praises of an illustrious servant of 
the Most High, that, through him, glory may redound to the 
Father of all spirits, the Fountain of all wisdom and magna- 
s virtue. And still more; we believe that the sublime 



1 



4 



intelligence of Milton was imparted, not for his own sake only, 
but to awaken kindred virtue and greatness in other souls. 
Far from regarding him as staniling alone and unapproach- 
able, we believe that he is an illustration of what all, who are 
true to their nature, will become in the progress of their being; 
and we have held him forth, not to excite an ineSectual admi- 
ration, but to stir up our own and others' breasts to an exhi- 
larating pursuit of high and ever-growing attainments in in- 
tellect and virtue. 






BEMABES 



OX THE 



CHARACTER 



OP 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, 



OCCASIONED 



BY THE PDBLICATIOK OF 



SCOTT'S LIFE OF NAPOLEON. 



By W. E. CHANNING, LL. D. 



FROM THE CHRISTIAN EXAMINER, 
VOL. IV. yo. V. 



BOSTON : 

BOWT.es AXD dearborn, 72, WA8HIVaTOV-8TREET# 



REPRINTED 

»T W. WALES AXD CO. CA8TLE-8TREET, LIVERPOOL, 
AJW MLD BV niBM AKD TH« BOOKBXLLCM lit LIT«BPOOI.; LOWOMAlf, RSSB, OKMX, 

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1828. 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 



Thi: Life of Napoleon Bonaparte by Sir Walter Scott has 
I ken anticipated with an eagcnieas, proportioned to the unri- 
I valleil power of the author, and to the wonderful endowments 
K snd fortunes of the hero. That the general expectation has been 
I Mtisfied, we cannot affirm. But few wUl deny, that the writer 
I given us a monument of his great talents. The rapidity 
I with which such a work has been thrown off asloniflhes us. 
I We tliink, however, that the author owed to himself and to the 
Kpuhlic a more deliberate execution of this important undertaking, 
e should either have abandoned it, or have bestowed on it the 
5 and patient labour which it required. The marks of neg- 
e and haste, which are spread through the work, are 
a blemishes, perhaps inexpiable defects. It wants com- 
IgressioR and selectioa throughout. Many passages are encum- 
(red with verbiage. Many thoughts are weakened by useless 
Rpansion and worse than useless repetition. Comparisons ore 
|lfccumulated to excels, and whilst many are extjuisite, perhaps 
V many are trite and unwortliy of history. The remarks are 
cnerallf juat, but obvious, and, we fear we must add, often super- 
We state these defects plainly, that we may express the 
e freely our admiration of the talents, which have executed 
Drapidly, a work so extensive and various, so rich in informa- 
> fresh and viwd in description, and furnishing such 
mndant specimens of a free, graceful, and vigorous style. 
The work has the great merit of impartiality. It is probably 
inaccurate in many of its details, but singularly free fiom pre- 
judice mid passion. Not a few, who considered that the a\ithor 
■ ina both a Driton and a friead of the principles and policy of 
tt, were expecting from liis pen a diMs>loured delineation of 
e implacable foe of England and of that great minister. But 
ctitude of Ills mind, and hLs reverence for historical truth, 
f preserved him from abusing the great power, 
iTpd ou hiin by his talents, over public opinion. We think 
d>c enemy q( hia c 




joined to an admiration of the dazzling qualities of Napoleon, 
has led him to soften unduly the crimes of his hero, and to give 
more favourable impressions than truth will warrant. 

But enough of the author, who needs not our praise, and can 
suffer little by our censure. Our concern is with his subject. 
A just estimate of the late emperor of France seeras to us im- 
portant That extraordinary man, having operated on the world 
with unprecedented power during his life, is now influencing it 
by hia character. That character, we apprehend, is not viewed 
as it should be. The kind of admiration which it inspires, evat^ 
in free countries, is a bad omen. The greatest crime agsina 
society, that ofspoiling it of its rights and loading it withchBia^^. 
still fails to move that deep abhorrence, which is its due ; and 
which, if really felt, would fix on the usurjjer a brand of indelible 
infamy. Regarding freedoni as the chief interest of human 
nature, as essential to its intellectual, moral, and religious pro* 
gresa, we look on men who have signalized themselves by their 
hostility to it, with an indignation at once stern and sorrowful, 
which no glare of successful war, and no admiration of the 
crowd, can induce us to suppress. We mean then to speak 
freely of Napoleon. But if we know ourselves, we could on no 
account utter one unjust reproach. We speak the more freely, 
because conscious of exemption from everyfeeling like animosity. 
We war not with the dead. We would resist only what we 
deem the pernicious influence of the dead. We would devote 
ourselves to the cause of freedom and humanity, a cause perpe- 
tually betrayed by the adtniratiun lavished on prosjjerous crime 
and all-grasping ambition. Our great topic will be the Character 
of Napoleon ; and with this we shall naturally intersperse re. 
flections on the great interests which he perpetually influenced. 

We begin with observing, that it is an act of justice to Bona- 
parte to remember, that he grew up under disastrous influences, 
in « troubled day, when men's minds were convulsed, old insti- 
tutiom overthrown, old opinions shaken, old restraints snapped 
asunder ; when the authority of religion was spurned, and youth 
abandoned to unwonted license ; when the imagination was 
made feverish by visions of indistinct good, and the passions 
swelled by the sympathy of millions to a resistless torrent. A 
more dangerous school for the character cannot well be con- 
ceived. Tliat Allseeing Being, who knows tlie trials of his 
creaturei and the secrets of the heart, can alone jndge to what 



J 



1 



degree crimes are extenuated by circumatances bo inauflpiciotu. 
This we must remember in reviewing the history of men, who 
were exposed to trials unknown to ourselves. But because the 
turpitude of an evil agent is diminished by infelicitiee of educa- 
tion or condition, we must not therefore confound the itninu' 
table distinctions of right and wrong, and withhold our repro- 
bation from atrocities which have spread misery and slavery far 
and wide. 

It ii also due to Napoleon to observe, that there has alwaya 
nisted, and still exists, u mournful obtuseness of moral feehng 
in r^ard to thecrimesof military and political life. The wrong- 
doing of public men on a targe scale, has never drawn upon 
them that sincere, hearty abhorrence which visits private vice. 
Nations have seemed to court aggression and bandage, by their 
Mupid, insane admiration of successful tyrants. The wrongs, 
from which men have suffered most, in body and mind, are yet 
unpunished. True, Christianity has put into our lips censures 
«D the aspiring end tlte usurping. But these reproaches ^e as 
yet b'ttle more than sounds, and unmeaning commonplaces. 
They are repeated Ibr form's sake. When we read or hear tliem, 
we feel that they want depth and strength. They are not in- 
ward, solemn, burning convictions, breaking from the indignant 
toul with a tone of reality, before which guilt would cower. 
The true moral feeling in regard to the crimes of public men is 
Almost to be created. We believe, then, that such a character 
iH Bonaparte's, is formed with very little consciousness of its 
turpitnde ; and society, which contributes so much to its growth, 
it responsible for its existence, and merits in part the misery 
vbich it spreads. 

Of the early influences, under wliich Bonaparte was formed, 
■He know little. He was educated in a military school, and 
'Ais, we apprehend, is not an institution to form much delicacy 
'«r independence (if moral feeling; for tlie young soldier is taught, 
<W his first duty, to obey his superior without consulting his 
conscience ; to take human life at aiiother's bidding; to perform 
■Skat deed, which above all others requires deliberate conviction, 
■trithout a moment's inquiry as to its justice, and to place himself 
-■ passive instrument in hands, which, as all history teaches, 
often reek with blood causelessly shed. 

itical Miociatkm wm with the J 






suigomiiry of all the factions which rag«d in Prance, and wbc 
away is emphatically called ' the reign of terror.' The & 
wliicb secured his command in Italy, was the turning of his \ 
tiUery on the people, who, liowever dangerous when a 
a mob, happened in the present case to understand their right 
and were directing their violence against manifest usurpation. 4 

His first campaign was in Italy, and we have still a v 
recollection of the almost rapturous admiration, with whid 1 
followed hie first triumphs ; for then we were simple 1 
regard him as the chosen guardian of liberty. Hi* pecul 
tactics were not then understood ; the secret of his si 
not reached us ; and his rapid victories stimulated the ii 
tion to invest him with the mysterious powers of a hero c 
mance. We confess that wc cannot now read the history of h 
Italian wars without a quickened movement in die veins, 
rapidity of liis conce))tionE ; the incxhaustiblencss of his ii 
tion ; the energy of his will ; die decision which suffered not a 
moment's pause between the purpose and its execution ,- die 
presence of mind, which, amidst sudden reverses and an the 
brink of ruin, devised the means ol' safety and success ; these 
commanding attributes, added to a courage which, however sus- 
pected afterwards, never faltered then, compel us to bestow, 
what indeed we have no desire to witlihoid, tlie admiration 
which is due to superior power. 

Let not the friends of peace be offended. We have said, 1 
we repeat It, that we have no desire to withhold our admin 
fWim the energies, which war often awakens. Great powM 
even in their perversion, attest a glorious nature, and we n 
feel their grandeur, whilst wc condemn, with 01 
of moral feeUng, the evil passions by which they are depraved 
We are willing to grant that war, abhor it as we may, often d 
velopes and places in strong light, a force of intdlect and pur- ~ 
pose, which raises our conceptions of t)ie human soul. There 
is perhaps no moment in Hte, in which the mind Is brought into 
such intense action, in which the will is m strenuous, and in 
which irrepressible escit«raent is so temperedwidi self-p 
as ill the hour of battle. Still the greatness of Uie v 
poor and low, compared with the magnanimity of virtue. It 
vanishes before the greatness of principle. The martyr to hu- 
manity, to freedom, or religion ; the unshrinking adherent of 
despised aiitl dcxcrtcd truth j who, alom>, im»up]^>orted».^ 



Ml».,^d 



irnetl, with no crowd to infuse into In'm coura^fe, no variety 

b 'Of object!: to dmw hin thoughts from liimself, no opportunity of 

r resistance to rouse awl nourish energy, stili yields 

I himself calmly, resohitely, with invincible philanthropy, to bear 

F'prolonged and exquisite suffering', which one retracting word 

1 jnight remove, such a man is as superior to the warrior, at the 

iquil and boundless heavens above us, to the low earth we 

Efld beneath our Teet. 

e have si>oken of the energies of mind called forth by war. 
e may be alto-ired a short digression, which however bearE 
Fiiirectty on mir main subject, the merits of Napoleon, we would 
I .ttbaerve, that military talent, even of the highest order, is far 
I holding the first place among intellectual cndawments. 
ril is one of the lower forms of genius ; for it is not conversant 
h the highest and richest objects of thought. We ^ant that 
I mine), which takes in a wide country at a glance, anil under- 
a almost by intuition the positions it affords for a successful 
aign, IS a comprehensive and vigorous one. The general, 
poses his forces so aa to counteract u greater force ; who 
1 by skill, science, and genius, the want of numbers ; 
;Uves into the counsels of his enemy, and who gives unity, 
] success to a vast sphere of opera tiMis, in the midat 
» and obstructions which no wisdom could foresee, 
nifetts great power. But still the chief work of a general is 
• apply physical force; to remove physical obstructions; to avail 
Mmself of physical aids and advantages ; to act on maiter ; to 
overcome rivers, ramparts, mountains, and human muscles ; and 
e not the highest object* of mind, nor do they demand 
Btelligence of the highest order ; and nccorchngly nothing is 
i common than to find men, eminent in this department, 
pko are almost wholly wanting in the noblest energies of the 
n imagination and taste, in the capacity of enjoying works 
f genius, in large views of hiimnn nature, in the moral sciences, 
h tfae applicntinn of analysis and generalisation to tlie human 
Aiind and to society, and in original conceptions on tlie great 
subjects whicli have absorbed the most glorious uniler standings. 
n»e office of a great general does not differ widely from that of 

Eent mechanician, whose business it is to frame new coinbi- 
ma of physical forces, tfi adapt them to new circumstances, 
to remove new obstructions. Accordingly, great generals, 
f from the cump. arc commonly no greater men \\\Ka \!b^ 



mectanirian taken from his workshop. In conversation ihejr 
are oflen dull. Works of profound thinking on general and 
great topics, they cannot comprehend. The conqueror of Na- 
poleon, the hero of Waterloo, undoubtedly possesses great nulv- 
lary talents ; but we have never heard of his eloquence in the 
senate, or of his sagacity in tlie cabinet ; and we venture to say, 
that he will leave the world, witliout adding one new thought 
on tlie great themes, on which the geiiiua of philosophy and 
legislature has meditated for ages. We will not go down for 
illustration to such men as Nelson, a man great on the deck, but 
debased by gross vices, and who never pretended to enlarge 
ment of intellect. To institute a comparison in point of bdent 
and genius between such men and Milton, Bacon, and Shakspearei 
is almost an insult on these illustrious names. Who can think 
of these truly great intelligences ; of the range of their minds 
through heaven and earth ; of their deep intuition into tlie soul ; 
of their new and glowing combinations of thought ; of the 
energy with which they grasped and subjected to their main 
purpose, the infinite materials oi' illustration which nature and 
life afford ; who can tiilnk of tlie forms of transcendent beauty 
and grandeur wlu'ch they created, or which were rather emana^ 
tions of their own minds ; of the calm wisdom and fervid im- 
petuous imagination which they conjoined ; of the dominion 
which they have exerted over so many generations, ajid which 
time only extends and makes sure; of the voice of power, ia 
whidi, though dead, they still speak to nations, and awaken in- 
tellect, sensibility, and genius, in both hemispheres ; who can 
think of such men, and not feel the immense inferiority of the 
t gifted warrior, whose elements of thought are physical 
md physical obstructions, and whose employment ia the 
combination of the lowest class of objects on which a powerful 
mind can be employed ? 

We return to Napoleon. His splendid victories in Italy 
spread his name like Ughtning through the civilized world. 
Unhappily they emboldened him to those unprincipled and open 
aggressions, to the indulgence of that lawless, imperious spirit, 
wliich marked his future course, and kept pace i^ith his grow- 
ing power. In his victorious career, he soon come in contact 
with States, some of which, as Tuscany and Venice, had 
knowledged the French Republic, whilst others, as Parma and 
, had observed a strict neutrality. The old-fashioned 



J 




' laws of natioim, under which such ststea would have fbnnd 
shelter, seenied novcr to liave classed the mind of the young 
victor. Not sjtielied with violating the neutrality of all, he 
I seized the port of Leghorn, and ruined the once flourishing 
I commerce of Tuscany ; and havuig exacted heavy tribute from 
Parma and Modena, he compelled these powers to surrender, 
what hsd hitherto been held aacred in the utmost extrcmitieB of 
war, some of their choicest pictures, the chief ornaments of their 
capitals. We are eometimes told of the good done by Napoleon 
to Italy. But we have heard his name pronounced as indignantly 
there as here. An Italian cannot forgive him for rubbing that 
Country of its noblest works of art, its dearest treasures and 
glories, which had made it a laotl of pilgrimage to men of taste 
and genius from the whole civilized world, and which had up- 
held and solaced its pride under conquest and humiliation. From 
this use of power in the very dawn of his fortunes, it might 
' easily have been foretold, what part he would act in the stormy 
I day which was approaching, when the sceptre of France and 
Europe was to be uSered to any strong hand, which should be 
daring enough to gr&sp it- 
Next to Italy, Egypt became the stage fur the display of Na- 
poleon ; Egypt, a province of the Grand Seignior, with whom 
France was in prDt'ound peace, and who, according to the long 
esiablished relations of Europe, was her natural ally. It would 
seem, that this expedition was Bonaparte's own project His 
motives are not very distinctly stated by his biographer. We 
doubt not tliat his great aim was conspicuousness. He chose a 
theatre where all eyes could be turned upon him. He saw that 
the time for usurpation had not yet come in France. To use his 
own language, ' the fruit was not yet ripe.' He wanted a field 
of action which would draw upon him the gaze of the world, 
sod from which he might return at the favourable moment for 
the prosecution of his enterprises at home. At the same time 
beundoubtedly admitted into hismiiid,which success had already 
intoxicated, some vague wild hope of making an impression on 
the Eastern world, which might place its destinies at his com- 
mand, and give him a throne more enviable than Europe could 
bestow. His course in the East exhibited the same lawlessness, 
the same contempt of all restraints on his power, which we have 
already noted. No means, which promised success, were 
It the wow for their guilL I tyMnot CTiough tat tamto 



I« 



boaBtofbiatriuniplis over the cross, nr to profess Maliometanismi 
Me claimeil inspirntioci, and a commission from God, and wa«- 
snxious tojoin the chwacler of prophet lo that of hero. This 
the beginning of the great errors into which he was betrayed Iiy 
tJiat spirit of sclf-exagg-eration, which, under the influence m 
past success And of unbounded flattery, wn.s already growing inlo- 
a kind of insanity. In his own view he was tit to be a compeer 
with Mahomet. His greatneaa in his own eyes made him btiiid 
to the folly of urging his supernatural claims on the Turk, wlw 
contemned, e\'en more than he abhorred, a Frank ; and wIm' 
would sooner have sold himself a slave to Christiana, than bavk' 
acknowledged a renegade Christian as a sharer of the glories d 
Mahomet. It was not enough for Bonaparte, on this expedition, 
to insult God, to show an impirty as foolish as it was daring. 
He proceeded to trample on the sentiments and dictates ofhii- 
maiiity with equal hardihood. The massacre of Jaffa is uni 
Bally known. Twelve hundred prisoners, and probably in 
who had surrendered thenisslves to Napoleon, and were app^ 
rently admitted to quarter, were two days afterwards marched' 
out of the fort, divided into small bodies, and then deliberatdy- 
shot, and, in case the musket was not eifectual, were desp^itche^ 
by bayonets. This was an outrage, which cannot be sheltered' 
by the laws and usages of war, barbarous as they are. It 
the deed of a bandit and savage, and ought to be execrated hv. 
good men, who value and would preserve the mitigations whiot 
Christianity has infused into the conduct of national hostilities. 
The nest great event in Bonaparte's history was the usurpk 
tionofthe supreme power of the state, and the establishment d 
military despotism over France. On the particulars of thia cii 
minal act we have no desire to enlarge, nor aie we anxious ii 
ascertain, whether our hero, on this occasion, lost his coura^ 
and self-possession, as he is reporteil to have done. We are mqji 
anxious to express our convictions of the turpitude of this 6^ 
rage on liberty and justice. For this crime but one apolojrj 
can be offered. Napoleon, it is said, seized the reins, when, nil 
he let them slip, they would have fallen into other hands. H4 
enslaved France at o moment, when, had he spared her, s^ 
wouldfaave found'another tyrant. Admitting the truth of theplet 
what is it but the reasoning of the hijfliwjiynian, who robs an 
murders the traveller, because the bo<iiy was about to be seiHei 
bv another hand, or because another dagger was ready to do tb 



11 



bloody deed ? We are aware that the Indignation, with whid) 
we regard this crime of Nnpoleon, will find a response in £eyi 
breasts ) fur to the miiltititde a throne is a temptation which ha 
virtue can be expected to withstand. But moral truth is hn- 
raoveable oniidst the sophistry, ridicule, and abject reasoning^ 
of men, and the time will come, when it will find a meet voice 
to give it utterance. Of all crimes against society, usurpation 
is the blackest. He who lifls a parriciilal h;uid against tus 
country's rights and freedom ; who plants his foot on the necks 
of thirty millions of his fellow creatures ; who concentrates in 
his single hand the powers of a mighty empire, and who wiekb 
its powers, squanders its treasures, and pours forth its blood like 
water, to make other nations slaves and the world hig prey ; thia 
man, as he unites all crimes ui his sanguinary career,! so Ite 
^lould be set apart by the human race for their unmingled and 
nnraeasured abhorrence, and should bear on his guilty head a 
mark as opprobrious as that which the first murderer wore. We 
ciinnot think with patience of one man fastening chains o 
whole people, and subjecting millions to his single will; of ' 
whole r^'ons ovcrahadowed by the tyranny of a irail being like 
ourselves. In anguish of spirit we exclaim. How long will an 
object world kiss the foot which tramples it ? How long shall 
crime fi^d shelter in its very aggravations and excess ? 

Perbajis it may be said, that our indignation seems to light 
OB Napoleon, not to much because he was a despot, as because 
he be<^e a despot by usuriwtion ; that we seem not to haXp 
tyratiny itself, so much us a particular mode of gaining it. We 
do indeed regard usurpation as a crime of peculiar blackness 
especially when committed, as in tlie case o£ Napoleon, in the 
name of liberty. All despotism, however, whether usurped or 
hereditary, is our abhorrence. ^V'e regard itas the most grievous 
wrong and insult to the human race. But towards the hereditary 
desjKit w'e have more of compassion than indignation. Nursed 
and brought up in delusion, worshipped from his cradle, never 
spnkcn to in the tone of fearless truth, taught to look on the 
great mass of his fellow beings as an inferior race, and to regard 
despotism as a law of nature and a necessary element of social 
life ; such a prince, whose education and condition almost deny 
Inm the possibility of acquiring healthy moral feeling and manly 
virtue, must not be judged severely. Still, in absolving the 
bof the gni]t which^eeaia at first UnBach n 



his unlawful and nbuscd power, we tlo not the less accuunt tie e- 
potism a wrong and a curse. The time for its fall, we tru: 
coming. It cannot fall too soon. It has long enough wrung:^ 
from the labourer his hard earnings ; long enough nquondered 
a nation's wealth on its parasites and minions ; long enough 
warred against the freedom of the mind, and arrested the pro- 
gress of truth. It has filled dungeons enough with the brave 
and good, and shed enough of the blood of patriots. Let its 
end come. It cannot come too soon- 

We have now followed Bonaparte to the moment of possessing 
hiroselfof the supreme power. Those who were associated with 
him in subverting the government of the Directory, essayed to 
lay restraints on the First Consul, who was to Uike their plac«i 
But he indignantly repelled them. He held the sword, and 
with this, not only intimidated the selfish, but awed and silenced 
the patriotic, who saw too plainly, that it could only be wre 
from him by renewing the horrors of the revolution. — We now 
proceed to consider some of the means, by which he consoli- 
dated hia power, and raised it into the imperial dignity. We 
consider these as much more important illustrations of his chK~ 
racier than his successive campaigns, to which accordingly we 
shall give little attention. 

One of his first measures for giving stability to his power, was 
certainly a wise one, and was obviously dictated by his situation 
and character. Having seized the first dignity in llie state by 
military force, and leaning on a devoted soldiery, he was under 
no necessity of binding himself to any of the parties which bnd 
distracted the country, — a vassalage to which his domineering 
spirit could ill have stooped. Policy and his love of mastery- 
pointed out to him an indiscriminate employment of the leading 
men of all parties ; and not a few of th^se hod became so selfish 
and desperate in the disastrous progress of the revolution, that 
they were ready to break up old connexions, and to divide the 
spoils of tile Republic with a master. Accordingly he adapted 
a system of comprehension and lenity, fVoin which evm the 
emigrants were not excluded, and liad the satisfaction of seeing 
almost the whole talent which the revolution bad quickened, 
leagued in the execution of his plans. Under the able men 
whom he called to his aid, the finances and the war department, 
which had fallen into a confusion tliat tlireatened ruin to the 
state, were soon restored to order, and means and forces pro- 



13 



vidctl for retrieving tbc recent defeats antl disgraces of the 

This leads us to mention another and niost important and 
effectual means by which Napoleon secured and enlarged hia 
power. We refer to the brilliant campaign immediately follow- 
ing his elevation to the Consulate, and which restored to France 
the ascendency which she had lost during his absence. On hia 
success at this juncture his future fortunes wholly depended. 
It was in thia campaign that he proved himself the worthy rival of 
Hannibal. Theenergy which conducted an army, with itscavalry, 
artillery, and supplies, across the Alps, by untried paths, which 
only the chamois hunter, born and bred tunidst glaciers and ever- 
lasUng snows, hud trodden, gave the impression, which of all 
others he most desired to spread, of his superiority to nature, as 
well as to human opposition. This enterprise was in one view 
a fwtrful omen to Europe. It showed a power over the minds 
of his soldiers, the effects of which were not to be calculated. 
The conquest of St. Bernard by a French army was the boart 
of the nation ; but a still more wonderful thing was, the capa- 
city of the general to inspire into that army the intense fiirc^ 
confidence, resolution, and patience, by which alone the work 
could be accomplished. The victory of Marengo, gained by 
one of the accidents of war in the moment of apparent defeat 
and ruin, secured to Bonaparte the dominion which he coveted. 
France, who, in her madness and fotly, had placed her happineii 
in conquest, now felt that the glory of her arms was safe only 
the hands of the First Consul ; whilst the soldiery, who held the 
sceptre in their gift, became more thoroughly Eatis6cd, that 
triumph and spoils waited on his standard. 

Another important and essential means of securing and build- 
ing up his power, was the system of esiiioniigc, called the Police, 
which, under tlie Directory, had received a developement wor- 
thy of those friends of freedom, but which was destined to be 
perfected by the wisdom of Napoleon. It would seem as if dea- 
podsm, profiting by the experience of ages, had put forth ho- 
whole skill and resources in forming the French police, and had 
forged a weapon, never to be surpassed, for stifling the faintest 
breathings of disaffection, and chaining every free thought. 
This system of espionage, (we are proud that we have no F.ng- 
lish wurd for the infernal machine,) had indeed been used iii 
sU tyrannies. BlllJmmd^fiijr|&j££gmch£, Uid^hfi ciwtt^'j 



-}* 



of Bonaparte, to disclose all its powers. In the langiia^ of > 
author, ' it spread through a]] the ramification h of eociety ;' t 
in, every man, of the least importance in, the community, 1 
the eye of a spy upon him. He was watched at home as « 
aa abroad, in the boudoir and tlieatre, in the brothel and gsmi 
bouse ; and these lust named haunts furnished not a few mjn 
ters of the Argus-eyed police. There was on ear open thri 
all France to catch the whispers of discontent ; a power of 
which aimed to rival, in omnipresence and invisibleness, 
iMmignant agency of the Deity. Of all instruments of ^ri 
this is the most detestable ; for it chills the freedom and wi 
of social intercourse ; locks up the heart; infects and darkeM 
men's minds with mutual jealousies and fears ; and r«duen 
system a wary dissimulation, subversive of force and nunliiu 
of character. We find, however, some consolation in lesniiiw 
that tyrants are the prey of distrust, as well as the ptx^le <n 
whom they set this cruel guard ; that tyrants cannot confide 
their own spies, but must keep watch over the machinery whidl 
we have described, lest it recoil upon themselves. Bonapaitt 
at the bead of an army is a dazxling spectacle ; but Bunapsrte^ 
heading a horde of spies, compelled to doubt and fear these baae 
instruments of his power, compelled to divide them into bandiv 
and to receive daily reports from each, so that, by balanciog' 
them against each other and sifting their testimony, he might 
gather the truth ; Bonaparte, (bus employed, is any thing bub 
imposing. It requires no great elevation of thought to look 
down on sucli an occupation with scorn ; and we see, in tbeanxietj' 
and degradation which it involves, the beginning of that retrj. 
bution which tyranny cannot escape. 

Another means by which the First Consul protected his power 
can excite no wonder. That he should fetter the press, aboulA 
banish or imprison refractory editors, should subject tlie jounwtli 
and more important works of literature to jeidous suj 
ence, diese were things of course. Free writing' and deapotiaffl 
are such implacable foes, tliat we hardly tliink of blaming a 
for keeping no tenns with the press. He Ciiunot do it- ttt 
might aa reasonably choose a volcano for tlie foundation of 
throne. Necessity i» laid upon him, iinleBs he is in love witk 
ruin, to check the buU aiid honest expression of thought. Hut 
the necessity is his own citoice; and let infamy be that man's 
, who seites a power which he cannot sustain, but by 



15 



tlooming the mind, throiigli a vast empire, to slavery, and by 
lurniiig ibe press, that great organ of truth, into an in&tmment 
of public delusion and debasement. 

We pass to another means of removing obatnictiuns to his 
power and ambition, still worse than the last We refer to the 
terror which he spread by his severities, just before assuming the 
iraperial power. The murder of the Duke d'Enghien was justi- 
ieA by Napoleon as a method of striking fear into the Bourboaa, 
who, as he said, were plotting his death. This may have been 
one motive ; for we have reason to think that he was al>oiit that 
time threatened with assassination. But we believe still more, 
that he intended to awe into acquiescence the opposition, which, 
he knew, would he awakened in many breasts, by the prostration 
of the (brms of the republic, and the open assumption of the 
bnperial dignity. There were times when Bonaparte disclaimed 
the origination of the murder of tlie Duke d'Enghien. Bu 

roould have originated it. It bears internal mark x ofit» 
antbor- The boldness, decision, and overpowering rapidity of 
tlt£ crime, j>oint unerringly to the soul where it was conceived. 
We bdieve that one great recommendation of this murder was, 
that it would strike amazement and terror into France and Eu- 
rope, and sliuw that he was prepared to shed any blood, and to 
aweep before him every obstruction, in his way to abiiolutc power. 
Certain it is, that the open murder of the Duke d'Enghien, and 
the justly suspected assassinations of Pichegru and Wright, did 
create a dreaj, .stich as had not been felt before ; and whilst 
previous occasions gome faint breathings of liberty were to be 
tlMld in the legislative bodies, only one voice, that of Carnot, waa 
ed against investing Bonaparte with the imperial crown, and 
luring Fiance, an unprotected victim, at his feet. 

There remain for our consideration other means employed by 
Bonaparte for building up and establishing his power, of a dif- 
ferent character from those we have namc<I, and which on this 
account we cannot pass witlmut notice. One of these was the 
Concordat which be extorted from the Pope, and which professed 
o re-establish the Catholic religion in France. Our religious 
prejudices have no influence on our judgment of this measure. 
We make no objections to it, as the restoration of a worship 
which on many accounts we condemn. We view it now simply 

111 instrument of policy, and in this light, it seems to i 
proof of the sagstily of Bonaparte. It heljis to confivm m via tm. 



impressiim, which other parts of his history give ua, that lie did 
not understand the peculiar character of hia age, and the peculiar 
and original policy which it demanded. He always used o 
mon-place means of power, although the unprecedented times in 
which he lived, required a system, which should combine untried 
resources, and touch new springs of action. Because old govern- 
ments had found a convenient prop in religion. Napoleon im^-. 
gined that it was a necessary appendage and support of his swayi 
and resolved to restore it. But at this moment there were Da 
founthttions in France for a religious establishment, which could 
give strength and achoracterofsacredness to the supreme power- 
There was comporntively no faith, no devout feeling, and, Btill 
more, no superstition to supply the place of these. The time tta 
the reaction of the religious principle had not yet arrived ; and 
a more likely means of retarding it could hardly have been de- 
vised, than the nursing care extended to the church by Bona- 
parte, the recent Mussulman, the known despiser of the ancient 
faith, who had no worship at heart but the worship of him«elf. 
Instead of bringing religion to tlie aid of the state, it was impos- 
sible that such a man should touch it, without loosening the faint 
hold which it yet retained on the people. There were none so 
ignorant as to be the dupes of the First Consul in tliis particular. 
Every man, woman, and child knew that he was playing thepart 
of a juggler. Not one religious association could be formed with 
his character or government It was a striking proof of the self- 
exaggerating vanity of Bonaparte, and of his ignorance of the 
higher principles of human nature, that he not only hoped to 
revive and twn to his account the old religion, but imagined, 
that he could, if necessary, have created a new one. ' Had the 
Pope never existed before, he should have been made for the 
occaaion,' was the speech of this political charlatan ; as if reli- 
gious opinion and feeling were things to he manufactured by a, 
consular decree. Ancient legislators, by adojiting and sympa- 
thizing with popular and rooted superstitions, were able to press 
them into the service of their institutions. They were wise enouj^ 
' to build on a pre-existing faith, and studiously to conform to it 
Bonaparte, in a country of infidelity and atheism, and whilst un- 
able to refrain from sarcasms on the system which he patronized, 
was weak enough to believe that he miffht make it a substantial 
support of hia government. He undoubtedly congratulated 
bimarif on the terms, which he exacted from the Pope, and 



17 



r Srhich had never been eonceded t( 
I fiirgetttng that his apparent si 



noBt powerful monarcha ; 

8 the defeat of his plans ; 

)ust as far as be severeil the church from the supreme pontifT, 

Uid placed hiiiiselt' conspicuoualy at its heailj he destroyed the 

1 whii:h could give it influence. Just so fur its 

r opinion and conscience censed. It became a coarse 

■ instrument of state, contemned by the people, and serving only 

I to demonstrate the aspiring views of its master. Accordingly 

Sie French bishops in general refused to hold tlieir dignities 

■nder this new head, preferred exile to the sacrifice of the rights 

liof the church, and lei\ behind them a hearty abhorrence of the 

I '(Concordat among the more zealous members of their communion. 

1 Happy would it have been for Napoleon, had he left tlie Pope 

I And the diurch to themselves. By occasionally recognizing and 

V employing, and then insulting and degrading the Roman pontiff, 

e eitasperatcd a large part of Cliristendom, fastened on himself 

e brand of impiety, and awakened a religious hatred which 

tribuled its full measure to his fall. 

mother means employed by Bonaparte for giving strength 

ind honour to his government, we may name the grandeur of 

a public norks, which he began in his consulate and continued 

■ hia accession to the imperial dignity. These dazzled 

ce, and still impress travellers with admiration. Could we 

■rate these from his history, and did no other indication of his 

cter survive, we should undunbtedly honour him witli the 

f a beneficent sovereign ; but connected as they are, they 

ie or nothing to change our conceptions of Iiim as an all' 

iping, unprincipled usurper. Paris was the chief object of 

e labours ; and surely we cannot wonder, that he who aimed 

t universal dominion, should strive to improve and adorn the 

oils of his empire. It is the practice of despots to be lavish 

f expoue on the royal residence and the seat of government. 

nvellers in France, as in other countries of the continent, are 

■Hck and pained by the contrast between the magniflcent ca- 

1 Biid the mudwalled village, and uninteresting province. 

laparte had a special motive for decorating Paris, for ' Parie 

s has often been observed ; and in conciliating the 

I'.ysnity of the great city, he secured the obedience of the whole 

IjGountry. The boasted internal improvements of Napoleon 

I Karcely destrve to be named, if we compare their influence with 

llic operation of his public measures. The conHcrii;rt\an, -w^oiiv 



Id 



ilrew from agriculture its moat effiective Inbourcrg, mid hig 
tinentol system, which sealed up every port and annihilated ' 
commerce of his empire, drained and exhausted France to a ' 
gree, for which his artificial stimulants ofinduatry, tmdhisspl 
did projects afforded no compensation. Perhaps the moat , 
mired of all his public works, is the road over the Smiplon, 
which all travellers concur in giving the epithet, stupeadc 
But it ought not to aniase us, that he, who was aspiring at i 
limited dominion, should establish communications between 
different provinces of his empire- It ought not to amaze 
that he, who had seated the glaciers of St. Bernard, shoidd i 
some easier passage for pouring his troops into Italy ; nor il 
very wonderful, that a sovereign, who commanded the rereni 
of Europe, and who lived in an age wlien civil engineering li 
been ailvanced to a, perfection before unknown, should 
plish a bolder enterprise than his predecessors. We would 
that Napoleon must divide with Fabbroni the glory of the , 
over the Simplon ; for the genias, which contrived and 
structed, is more properly its author, than the will which con^ 
manded it 

There is however one great work, which gives Bonaparte- 
fair claim on the gratitude of posterity, and entitles him to J 
honourable renown. We refer to the new code of laws, i 
was given to France under his auspices. His parti cipatiDn.i 
this work has indeed 1)een unwarrantably and ridiculously nM| 
nified. Because he attended the meetings of the commissioM 
to whom it was assigned, and made some- useful and sogaciol 
suggestions, he has been praised, as if he had struck out, by d 
miraculous tbrce of his genius, a new co<le of laws- The t nH 
is, that he employed for this work, as he should have done, tll» " 
most emuient dviliaiis of the empire ,* and it is als» true that 
these learned men have h'ttte claim to originahty; for, as our 
Author observes, the code 'has few peculiarities making a dif- 
ference betwixt its principles and those of the Roman law,* 
other words, they preferred wisdom to novelty. Sttll I 
deserves great jiruise tor hia interest in the work, for the W 
pulse he gave to those to whom it was committed, and for the 
time and thought, which, amidst the cares of a vast empire, he 
bestowed upon it. That hit ambhioh incited him to this labour, 
we doubt not He meant to entwine the laurels of Justinian ^ 
with those of Alexander. But we will not (quarrel with a 







iion, when it is wise enough to devote itself to the happiness of 
mankind. In the present case, he showed that he understood 
something of true glory ; ond we prize the instanee more, bc- 

I cause it stands almost alone in his history. We look on the 
conqtieror, the usurper, the spoiler of kingdoms, the inentiable 
despot, with disgust, and see in all these characters ftn essential 
ivlgai-ness of mind. But when we regard him as a Fountain of 
Justice to a vast empire, we recognize in him a resemblance to 
the just and benignant Deity, and cheerfully accord to him the 
pni«! of bestowing on a nation one of the greatest gifts, and 
«f the most important nieaus of improvement and happiness, 
which h is permitted to man to confer. It was howevta- tlie 
tnisery of Bonaparte, a curse brought on him by his crimes, that 
lie could touch notliing without leaving on it the polluting mark 
of despotism. Hta usurpation took from him the power of legis- 
lating with magnanimity, where his own interest was concerned. 
Me could provide for the administration of justice between man 
■nd man, but not between the citizen and the ruler. Political 
ofiences, tJie very class which ought to be submitted to a jury, 
were dented tliat mode of trial. Juries might decide on other 
criminal questions ; but they were not to be permitted to inter- 
pose between the despot and the ill-fated subjects, who might 
bll tiiKler his suspicion. These were arraigned before ' special 
tribuiuds, invested with a half military character,' the ready 
ministers of nefarious prosecutions, and only intendetl to cloak 
Pi by legal forms the murderous purpose of the tyrant 

P 

W ' 

^ II 



s by which Bona- 



We have thus considered some of the m 
I parte consolidated and extended his power. We now see him 
I jtdvanced to that imperial throne, on whieli he had long fixed 
is eager eye. We see Fraiice now awed and now dazzled by 
le influence we have described, and at last surrendering, by 
fmblic, deliberate acts, without a struggle or a sliow of opposi- 
tfon, her rights^ liberties, interests, and power to an absolute 
lOaster and to his posterity for ever. Thus iterishcd the name 
and forms of the Republic. Thus perished the hopes of phi- 
lanthropy. The air, which a few years ago rt.^ounded with the 
shoots of a great people casting away their chains, and claiming 
L tfieir birthright of freedom, now rung with the servile cries of 
I iMig life to a bloodstained usurper. There were indeed gene- 
Bftrtie patriot^ like par own La Fayette, ;ti&\ri^\u 




France. But tew and •catt«-ed, they were left to shed ia secret 
the teu-s of Borrawful and militant despair. By this base and 
Jisastrouit iiiaue of their revolution, the French nution not only 
renounced their own rights, but brought reproach on the cauw 
of freedom, which yearn cannot wash away. This ia to usft, 
more painful recollection, than all tlie dcBolations which Pnm»' 
■prend through Europe, and than her own bitter sufferings, what 
the hour of retribution came upon her. The fields which she 
laid waste are again waving with harvest ; and the groans whidlfc 
broke forth through her cities and villages, when her bravest 
sona perished by thousands and ten thousands on the snows of 
Russia, have died away, and her wasted population is renewed. 
But the wounds which she inflicted on freedom by the crimes 
perpetrated in that sacred name, and by tlie abject spirit witfc 
which that sacred cause was deserted, ure still fresh and bleedingw 
France not only subjected herself to a tyrant, but whut is wort^ 
she has given tyranny every where new pleas and arguments, an£ 
emboldened it to prunch openly, in the face of heaven, the ito^ 
pious doctrines of absolute i>ower and unconditional submissioib 
Na|iolean was now Emperor of France ; and a man unac- 
quainted with human nature, would think that such an empire^ 
wliosc bounds now extended to tlie Rhine, might have 
even an ambitious man. But Bonaparte obeyed that law i^ 
progress, to which the highest minds arc peculiarly subjiectedj 
and acquisition inflamed, instead of «i>pe«sing, the spirit of do- 
minion. He had long projrased to himself the conquest of 
Europe, of the world ; and the title of Emperor added intense- 
ncM to ^is purpose. Did we not fear, that by repetition we 
might impair the conviction which we are most anxious to im- 
press, we would enlarge on tlie enormity of the guilt involved 
in the project of universal empire- Napoleon knew distinctly 
the price, which he nmst pay for the eminence which he coveted. 
He knew that tlie patli to it \&y over wounded and slaughtered 
millious, over piicrefjing heaps of his fellow treatures, over 
ravaged fields, smoking ruins, pillaged cities. He knew tha(. 
his steps would be followed by the gnums of widowed 
■nd famished orpluuis ; of bcTc«ve<l friendship and di 
love 1 and that in addition to tliis amount of misery, he would 
crc«te an equal amount of crime, by multiplying indefinitely the 
ini4rumcnt« and participators of his ra|iine and fraud. He 
kMW tha priea^ *»A re*d»ed la pay it. Bw we do nut uait. 




on a topic, which few, vety few as yet, understand or feel. 
Titmitig tlien for the present from the moral aspect of this en- 
terprise, we will view it in another light, which is of great im- 

I portancc to a just estimate of his claims on admiration. We will 
uire into the nature and fitness of the measures and policy 

1 which he adopted, for cmnpassing the subjugation of Europe 

I «nd the world. 

Ve are aware, that tliis discussion may expose us to the 

^ charge of great presumption, tt may be said that men, having 
wrcciis to the secrets of cabinets, and no participation in public 

I affairs, are not the best judges of the policy of such a man as 
Napoleon. This we are not anxious to disprove, nor shall we 
quarrel with our readers for questioning the soundness of our 
opimons. But we will say, that though distant, we have not 
m indifferent observers of the great events of our age, and 

> that though conscious of exposure to many errors, we have a 

' strong persuasion of the substantial correctness of our views. 

I We express then, without reserve, our belief, that the policy of 
Napoleon was wanting in sagacity, and that he proved himself 
incapable, as we before suggested, of understanding the cha- 
racter and answering the demands of his age. His system was 
a repetition of old means, when the state of the world was new. 
The sword and the police, which had sulHced him for enslaving 
France, were not the only powers required for hia designs 
against the human race. Other resources were to be discovered 
or created ; and the genius for calling them forth did not, we 
conceive, belong to Najwlcon- 

The circumNtonces under which Napoleon aspired to universal 
empire, chffered in many respects from lhu!<e under whidi former 
conquerors were placed. It was easy for Rome, when she had 
subdued kingdoms, to reduce them to provinces and to govern 
by force ; for nations at that period were bound together by no 
tie. They had little communication with eachi other. Dif- 
lercncesof origin, of religion, of manners, of language, of modes 
of warfare ; differences aggravated by long and lerocioua wars, 
wid by the general want of civiliKution, prevented joint action, 
and almost all concern for one another's fate. Modem Europe, 
on the other hand, was an assemblage of civilized states, closely 
oonnected by commerce, by Uteratiire, by a common taith, by 
interchange of thoughts and improvementu, and by a ]}ulicy 
vhich had for ages proposes 




I 



mont of such n tmlancc of power as would secure national ioite^ 
jwndenca Under these influences the hnman mind had made 
great progress ; and in truth the French revolution had re«ult«^ 
from an unprecedented exottement and developement of tni 
Acuities, and from the extension of power and intelli) 
through a vastly wider class, than bad participated in tliem 
any former period. The very power, which Na] 
wielding, mi|;;ht be traced to an enthusiasm essentially geni 
and manifesting a tendency of the civilized world to better 
«titutionH. It is plain that the old plans of conquest, and 
maxims of comparatively barbaroua ages, did not suit eudi' 
Btate of society. An ambitious man was to make his way, 
allying himself with the new movements and excitements of 
world. The existence of a vast maritime power like Ei 
which, by its command oflhe ocean and its extensive con 
WM brought into contact witli every community, and whtdi 
the same time enjoyed the enviable pre-eminence of p*s9ess!l 
the freest institutions in Europe, was of itself a sufficient motii 
fiir a great modification of the policy, by which 
now to be placed at the head of the nations. The peculiv 
chwncter and influence of England, Bonaparte seemed indeed 
never able to comprehend ; and the violent measures by whiiA 
he essayed to tear asunder the old connections of that country 
with the continent, only gave them atrenfifth. by adding to the 
tics of intnvst those of sympathy, of common sufiering, 
oammon danger. 

Force and corruption were the great engines of Napoleon, 
be plied them without disguise or reserve, not caring how far 
insulted, and nrmed against himself, the moral and natii 
ft«lings of Europe. His f^eat reliance was on the military spi 
and energy of the French people. To make France a nation _ 
M>ldiers was the first and main instrument of his policy ; ana 
here he was successful. The revolution indeed had in no small 
degree dono tliis work to his hands. To complete il, he intro- 
duced a national system of education, having for its plain end 
tu train the whole youth of France to amilitary life, to familiarise 
the mind to this ileslinalion from its earliest years, and to aaeo- 
otatv the idea of glory nlmost eschisively with arms. The eon- 
acHption gnve fbll efficacy to this system ; for as every young 
nun in the empire had reason tu anticipate a summons to the 
army. tb>- dm object in edncation natuntly was, to fit him fie 



lue 
and 

m 




the field. The public honours bemowed on military talent, uhI u 
rigorous impartiality in awarding promotion to merit, so tlwt no 
origin, however obscure, wan a bar to what were deemed the 
highest honours of Europe, kindled the ambition of the whole 
people into a flame, and directed it exclusively to the cmnj>. It 
b true, the conscription, which thinned so terribly the ranks of 
her ytnith, and spread anxiety antl bereavement through all her 
dwellings, was severely felt in France, But Napoleon knew tlie 
race whom it was his business to manage ; and by the glare of 
victory, and the title of the Grand Empire, he succeeded in re- 
cunciling them for a time to the most painful domestic priva- 
tions, and to an unexampled waste of life. Thus he secured, 
what he accounted the most important instrument of dominion, 
a great military force. But, on tlie other liund, the stimulants, 
which, for this purpose, he was forced to apply perpetually to 
French vanity, the ostentation with which the invincible power 
of France was trumpeted to the world, and the haughty vaimting 
style which became the moat striking characteristic of that intosi- 
nited people, were perpetual irritations of tJie national spirit ami 
pride of Europe, and implanted a deep hatred towards the new 
and insulting empire, uhich waited but for a favourable mament 
to repay witJi interest the debt of humiliation. 

The condition of Europe forbade, as we believe, the establish- 
ment of universal monarchy by mere jihysical force. The aword, 
hm-evcT important, was now to play but a secondary part. The 
true course for Napoleon seems to us to have been indicated, 
Bpt only by the state of Europe, but by tlie means which France 
in the beginning of her revolution had found moeteSectuol. tie 
slioulil have identified himself with some great interests, opinion, 
or inatitulions, by which he might have bound to himself a large 



party in every v 



He should liave contrived t 



least a specious cause against ull old estalilishinents. To contrast 
htmscir most strikingly and most advantageously with former 
goveroments, should have been the key of his policy. He iJiould 
J»v« placetl himsdf at the head o*' a new order of thing«, which 
should have worn the face of an improvement of the xodal Mate. 
Nor did the snhversion of republican forms prevent Ilia ■'I-iHmwi 
of this course, or at' some other which would Iibvc ■ccurcd lo tun 
the sj-mpalhy of multitudes. He might •till lu»e dr«wu wn. 
broad lines between hi' 
^iM>, tendinf; tu tl 



I ailmini»trutii;>i and tlut ^ ^ 



ti 



might hove cnet avmy all the pageantry nnd farms of courts, ( 
ting^uisheEl himself by the simplicity of his establlHhments, , 
exaggerated the relief which he gave to his peoplcj by aavi 
them the burdens of a wasteful and luxurious cou 
have inaUted on the great benefits that had accrued to Fru 
from the eHtablishmeiit of uniform laws, which protected a 
nil classes of men ; and he might have virtuelly pledged fc 
to the subvertiion of the feudal inequalities which still disligi 
Europe. He might have insisted (>n the favourable c 
be introduced into property, by abolishing the entails which fi 
tered it, the rights of primogeniture, and the exclusive privilf 
of a haughty aristocracy. He might have found abuses enoi 
against which to array himself as a champion. By becoming d 
head of new institutions, which would have involved the ti 
of power into new hands, and would have offered t 
a real improvement, he might every where have summoned ti 
hia standard the bold and enterprising, and might have d 
the national prejudices to which he fell a prey. Revolution w 
still the true instrument of power. In a word, Napoleoi 
at a period, wlien he could only establish a durable and un 
control, through principles and institutions of some J 
other, to which he would seem to be devoted. 

It was impossible, however, for such s man as Napolemi, t 
adopt, perhaps to conceive, a system such as has now bt 
traced; for it was wholly at war with that egotistical, self-rc 
ing, self-exaggerating principle, which was the most sC'ikiiig 
feature of his mind. He imagined himself able, not only to con- 
t[ner nations, but to hold thera together by the awe and admira- 
tiim which his own dutracter would inspire ; and this bond he 
preferred to every other. An indirect sway, a control at natians 
by means of institutions, principles, or prejudices, of wbjcfa ha 
was to l>e only the apostle and defender, was utterly ir 
with that vcliemence of will, that passion for ahtonishing n 
kind, and that persua.sion of his own invindbleness, which w 
his master feelings, and which made force his darlii 
of dominion. Mc chose to be the great, palpable,. and sole bond 
of his empire ; to have his image reflected tram everv establiah- 
ment ; to Iw tlie centre, in which every ray of glory should meet 
and from which every impulse shotdd be propagated. In ccn- 
seqiience of this t^otiun, he neviT dreamed of adapting him- 
•etftn ihi^ moral condition of the world. The sword wu hi«>- 



I 



2& 

diosen weapon, and he used it without disguise. He ineutted 
nations as well as sovereigns. He did not attempt to gild their 
daina, or to lit the yoke gently to their necks. The excess of 
Itis extoctioii.s, the uuducit; of lua claims, and the insolent lan- 
guor in which Europe was spoken of as the vassal of the great 
empire, discovered, that he expected to reign, not only without 
']B&kiiig himself with the interests^ prejudices, and national feel- 
JBgs of men, but by setting all at defiance. 

It would beeasytopoint out a multitude of instances in which 
Ik sacrificed the only policy by which he could prevail, to the 
persuasion, that his own greatness (»)uld more than balance what- 
ever opposition his violence might awaken. In an age in which 
Christianity was exerting some power, there was certainly a de- 
gree of deference due to the moral convictions of society. But 
Napoleon thought himself more than a match for the moral in- 
■tincts and sentiments of our nature. He thought himsdf able 
to cover the most atrocious deeds by the splendour of his name, 
and ev£Q to extort applause for crimes by the brilliancy of his 
success. He took no jjaJns to conciliate esteem. In his own 
eyes he wa^ mightier than conscience ; and thus he turned 
against himself the power and resentment of virtue, in every 
breast where that divine principle yet found a home. 

Through the same blinding egotism, he was anxious to lill tlie 
thrones of Europe with men bearing his own name, and to mul- 
tiply every where images of himself. Instead of placing over 
conquered countries efficient men, taken from themselves, who, 
by upholding better institutions, would carry with tliem large 
mosses of the people, and who would still, by their hostility to 
die old dynasties, link their fortunes with his own, he placed 
over nations such men as Jerome and Murat. He tlius spread 
« jealousy of his power, whilst he rendered it insecure; for as 
Bone of the princes of his creation, however well disposed, were 
allowed to identify themselves with their subjects, and to take 
root in the public heart, but were compelled to act, openly and 
without disguise, ss satellites and prefects of the French Empe- 
ror ; they gained no hold on their subjects, and could bring no 
■trength to their master in his hour of peril. In none of his ar- 
Tangements did Najioletai think of securing to his cause the at- 
tachment of nations. Astonishment, awe, and force were his 
wretipons, and his own great name the chosen pillar of his tlirone. 
Sp far was Bonaparte from magnifying the conltasX aiiA tt^ 



I 

I 
J 



I 



tmctions Iictwecn himself anil the old dynasties of Europe, 
from attaching men to himself by new principles and institutional 
tbftt he had the great weakness, for so we view it, to revive 
old forms of monnrchy, and to ape themaiuieraof theoldcoi 
wid thus loconnect himselfwith the herd of legitimate soveretgcwj 
This was not only to rob his government of tliat imposing chin' 
racter which might have been given to it, and of that in) 
which it might have inspired, as an improvement on former ii 
stitutions, but was to become competitor in a race in whidi he 
could not but be distanced. He could indeed pluck crowns 
the heads of monarchs ; but he could not by any means Jnfui 
their blood into his veins, associate with himself the ideas whit 
are atbiched to a long line of ancestry, or give to his court tl 
grace of manners, which belongs to older establishments, 
true policy was, to throw contempt on distinctions, which 
could not rivid ; and had he possessed the genius and spirit oft' 
the founder of a new era, he would have substituted for a crowBif 
Mid for other long-worn badges of power, a new and simplen' 
style of grandeur, and new insignia of dignity, more coDMnan 
with an enlightened age, and worthy of one who disdained tab 
a vulgar king. By the policy wliich he adopted, if it be word] 
of that name, he became a vulgar king, and showed a mind tn4 
capable of answering the wants and demands of his age. It i* 
well known, that the progress of intelligence had done much uit 
Europe, to weaken men's reverence for pageantry and sh(nn} 
Nuliles had learned to lay aside their trappings in ordinary Hfty 
and to appear as gentlemen. Even royalty had begi 
trench its pomp ; anil in the face of all this improvement, BotM' 
parte stooped from his height, to study costumes, to legisli 
aboutcourtdressesandcourt manners, and to outshine his broths' 
monarchs in tlieir own line. He desired to add the glory o£ 
master of ceremonies to that of conqueror of nations. Id hi* 
anxiety to belong to the caste of kings, he exacted scrupulonily- 
the observance and etiquette witli which they are approached. 
Not satisfied with this approximation to the old sovereigns, with 
whom he had no common interest, and from whom he couldnof 
have removed himself too fiu-, he sought to ally himself by man* 
ringe with the royal families in Europe, to engraft hime^f and 
his posterity on an old imperial tree. This w,is the very way to 
turn back opinion into its old channels ; to carry back Eut»p* 
ta its old prejudices ; to facilitate the restoration of its old order; 



to preach up legitimacy; to crush every hope that he was to 
vork a b«ieliceat change among nations, It may seem strange, 
thftt his egotism did not preserve him from the imitation of anti- 
quated monarchy. But his egotism was not lofty, nor was t{ 
seconded by a genius, rich and inventive, except in war. 

We have now followed Napoleon to the height of his power, 
and given our views of the policy by which he hoped to make 
tlut power perpetual and unbounded. His fall ia easily ex- 
plained. It had its origin in that spirit of Hclf-rel lance and eelf- 
cxagger«tioti, of which we have seen so many proofs. It began 
in Spain. That country was a province in reality. He wanted 
to make it one in name ; to place over it a Bonaparte ; to make 
it a more striking manifestation of his power. For this purpose, 
he ' ktdoapped' its royal family, stirred up the unconquerable 
spirit of its people, and after shedding on its plains and moun- 
tatiia tile best blood of France, lost it for ever. Next came hi* 
expedition against Russia, an expedition against which his wise^ 
counsellors remonstrated, but which had every recommendation 
to B man irho regarded himself as an exertion to hla race, ana 
able to triumph over the laws of nature. So insane were his 
Klf-confideoce and impatience of opposition, that he drove by 
hiti outrages Sweden, the old ally of France, into the arms of 
Rnasia, at the very moment that he was about to throw himself 
into the heart of that mighty empire. On his Russian campaign 
we have no desire to enlarge- Of all the mournful pages of hi»* 
tory, none are more sad than that which records the retreat of 
the French army from Moscow. We remember, that when the 
intelligence of Napoleon's discorofiture in Ituseia first reachej 



this country. 



e among those who exulted in it, thinking 



wilyofthe results. But when subsequent and minuter accounU 
brought distinctly before our ejes that unequalled army at 
fiance, broken, famished, slaughtered, seeking shelter under 
nowdrift^, and perishing by intense cold, we looked back on our 
^joy with almost a consciousness of guilt, and expiated by a sin* 
«re grief our ins«nsibihty to the sufTerings of our fellow croa- 
tdrea. We uiwlerataiid that many interesting notieei of Napoleon, 
M he appeared in this disastrous campaign, are given in the Mftl 
i»irs of Count Segur, a liook, from which we have been repelled 
ty the sorrows and mi:ieTics which it detaila. We can conceivf 
subjects more worthy of Shak«pc«re than the mind of N*l 
f«ale«l; whcuiJwOliJ 




I 



I 



ftf his victoriea was suddenly stopped and rolled backwards f 
when his dreams of invincibleness were broken ns by a peal of I 
thunder ;~whcn the word, which hnd awed nations, died away, . 
on the bleak waEte, a powerless sound ; and when he, whosfe 
spirit Europe could not bound, fled in fear from a captive's doom. 
The shock must have been tremendous to a mind so iinperious, 
scornful, and unschooled to humiliation. The intense tLgaayoT ] 
that moment when he gave the unusual orders, to retreat ; the J 
flesolateness of his soul, when he saw his brave soldiers, and his J 
chosen guards, sinking in the snows, and jicrishing in trowda 
around him ; his unwillingness to receive the details of his losses, J 
lest self-possession should fail him ; the levity and badinage ot 
his interview with the Abb6 de Pradt nl Warsaw, discovering a i 
mind labouring to throw off an insupportable weight, wrestling I 
with itself, struggling against misery ; and though last not least, ] 
his unconquerable purpose, still clinging to lost empire as the [ 
only good of life ; these workings of such a spirit would have 
furnished to the great dramatist a theme, worthy of his tran- 
scendent powers. 

By the irretrievable disasters of the nussian campaign, the 
empire of the world was effectually placed beyond the grasp <^ 
Napoleon. The tide of conquest had ebbed, never to return. 
The spell which had bound tlie nations was dissolved. He was 
no longer the Invincible. The weight of military power, whidi 
had kept down the spirit of nations, was removed, and their long . 
smothered sense of wrong and insult broke forth like the fires of 
a volcano. Bonaparte might still, perhaps, have secured the 
throne of France ; but that of Europe was gone. This, however, 
he did not, could not, would not understand. He had connected 
with himself too obstinately the character of tlie world's master, 
to be able to relinquish it. Amidstthe dark omens which gathered 
round him, he still saw in his past wonderful escapes, and in his 
own exaggerated energies, the means of rebuilding his fallat 
power. Accordingly the thought of abandoning his pretensions 
does not seem to have crossed his niind^ and his irreparable de- 
feat was only a summons to new eiertion. We doubt, indeed, 
whether Napoleon, if he could have understooil fully his condi> ] 
tion, would have adopted a <liirerent course. Though despftiringv 
he would probably have raised new armies, and fought to the \ 
last- To a mind, whidi has placc<l its whole happiness in having 
Bo cqaal) the tbonght of degccntling to llie level even of ki^ 




is intolerabtc. Napoleon's mind had been stretched by such 
ideas of universal empire, that France, though reaching from the 
fihJne to the A]ps, seemed narrow to him. He couI<l not be shut 
up in it. Accordingly, as his fortunes darkened, we see no signs 
_ of relenting. He could not wear, he said, ' a tarnished crown,' 
that is, a crown no brighter than those of Austria and Bussia- 
He continued to use a master's tone. He showed no change, but 
Buch as opposition works in the obstinate. He lost his temper 
and grew sour. He heaped reproaches on his marshals, and the 
legislative body. He insulted Mettemich, the statesman, on 
■whom, above all others, his fate depended. He irritated Murat 
by sarcasms, which rankled witliin him, and accelerated, if they 
Aid not determine, his desertion of his master. It is a striking 
example of retribution, that the very vehemence and stcmness 
of his will, which had borne tmn onward to dominion, now drove 
him to the rejection of terms which would have letl him a formi- 
dable power, and thus made his ruin entire. Refusing to take 
counsel of events, he persevered infighting with a stubbornness, 
which reminds us of a spoiled cliild, who suddenly grasps what 
he knows he must relinquish, struggles without hope, and does 
not give over resistance, until his little fingers are one by one 
unclenched from the object on which he has set his heart. Thus 
feU Napoleon. We shall follow his history no farther. His re- 
treat to Elba, his irruption into France, his signal overthrow, and 
bis banishment to SL Htlena, though they add to the romance of 
hie history, throw no new light on bis character, and would of 
coarse contribute nothing to our present object. There are in- 
deed iiKidents in this portion of his life which are somewhat in- 
consistent with the firmness and conscious superiority which be- 
longed to him. But a man, into whose character so much im- 
pulse, and so little principle entered, must not be expected to 
preserve unblemished, in such hard reverses, the dignity and 
self-respect of an emperor and a hero. 

In the course of these remarks, ourviewsof the Conqueror, of 
the First Consul, and of the Emperor, have been given plainly 
and freely. The subject, however, is so important and interest- 
ing, that we have thought it worth our while, though at the 
hiutard of some repetition, to bring together, in a narrower com- 
pass, what seem to us tlie great leading features of the intellec.. 
tual and moral cburactn^^^ 




charac 
_ its foil 



30 



His intellect was distinguished by rapidity of thought. H 
understood by a glance what most men, and superior men, coul 
leiirn only by study. He darted to a conclusion rather by id 
tuition than reasoning. In war, which was tlic only subject i 
miuch he was master, he seized in an instant on the great point 
of his own and his enemy's positions; and combined at oncetlj 
movements, by which an overpowering force might be thronb 
with unexpected fury on a vulnerable part of the hostile li 
and the fate of an army be dedded in a day. He understock 
War as a science ; but his mind was too bold, rapid, and inift 
pressible, to be enslaved by the technics of his profbssion. 1^ 
found the old armies fighting by rule, and he discovered the t^ 
characteristic of genius, which, williout despising rules, kno<A 
when and how to break them. He understood thoroughly til 
immense moral power, which is gained by originality and fif 
pidity of operation- He astonished and paralyzed his enemBt 
by his unforeseen and impetuous assaidts, by tlie suddennej 
with which the storm of battle burst upon them ; and, whiU 
givingtohis soldiers theadvantagea of moderndiscipline.breatllM 
into them, by his quick and decisive movements, the enthuaiaa 
of ruder ages. This power of disheartening the foe,and ofspreaa 
ing through his own ranks aconfidence, and exliilaradng cours|g^ 
which made war a pastime, and seemed to make victory s _^^ 
distinguished Napoleon in an age of uncommon military talem^ 
and was one main iiislrument of his futiu'e piower. 

The wonderful effects of that rapiility of thought by y 
Bonaparte was marked, the signal success of Ids new mode A 
warfare, and the almost incredible speed with which his fi 
was spread through nations, liad no small influence in fixing lU 
character and determining for a period tlie fate of empire 
These stirring influences infused a new consciousness ofhisow 
might. They gave intensity and audacity to his ambition ; gsv 
form and substance to his indefinite visions of glory, and rais^ 
his fiery hopes to empire. The burst of admiration, which hi 
early career colled fortli, must in particular have had an inlTuHicie 
in imparting to his ambition that modification by which it f 
characteri:ied, and which contributed alike to its success and tj 
its fall. He began with asloiiis/thig the world, with pro 

sudden and universal sentation, such as modern times had a 

witnessed. To asloniih as well as to sway by his energies, \ 

the great aim of his life. Heaceforthtorule wasnotej 



31 

&r Bonaparte. He wanted to amaze, to ttazzle, to overpower 
^en's golds, by striking, ixild, magnificent, and unanticipated 
leeulu. To govern ever so absoliitelj would not have sstislied 
Ann, if he must have goverueil silently. He wanted to reign 
tfiTough wander andawe,bythegrandcur and terror of hia name, 
ty dijpl&j's of power vvhicli would rivet on him every eyo, and 
■tslte him the theme of every tongue. Power was hia gupreme 
object, but a power which should be gaaed at as well as felt, 
vhtch eJioidd strike men as a prodigy, which should shake old 
thrones as an earthquake, and by the suddenness of its new creft- 
^009 ghouU awaken something of the submiasive wonder which 
miraculous agency inspires. 

Snob seems to us to have been the distinction, or characteristic 
goodificotion of Iiis love of fame. It was a diseased passion for 
• kindof admiration, which, from the principles of our nature. 
. cuinot be enduring, and which demands for its support per- 
petual «nd more stimulating novelty. Mere esteem he would 
Iwve BC<?ned. Calm admiration, though universal, and endur- 
ipg, wottjd have been insipid. He wanted to electrify and over- 
irhelm. He lived for effect. The world was his theatre, and ho 
cued little wliat part he played, if he might walk the sole hero 
«n the stage, and call forth bursts of applause, which would 
ulence all other fame. In war the triumphs which he coveted 
jrere those, in which he seemed to sweep away his foes like a 
whirlwind; and the immense and unparalleled sacrifice of his 
own soldiers, in die rapid marches and daring assaidts to which 
lie owed hia victories, in no de^ee diminished their worth to the 
^ctor. In peace, he delighted to hurry tlirough his dominions ; 
to multiply himself by his rapid movements; to gather at a 
l^tlce the capacities of improvement which every important 
itbce possessed ; to suggest plans which would startle by their 
qriginality and vastness ; to project in an instant works which a 
]ife<muld not accomplish, and to leave bcliind the impression of 
A luper-human energy. 

Our sketch of Bonaparte would be imperfect indeed, if we did 
fiot add, that he was cltaracterized by nothing more strongly than 
ly the gphit of seff-eaaggeration. The suigular energy of his 
inteltect and will, through which he had mastered so many rivals 
find foes, and overcome what seemed insuperable obstacles, in- 
"jqiired a con-*ciousness of being something more than man. His 
'ttrong original tendencies to pride and self-exaltalion, ?(;0l mvO,. 



33 

punpered by strange Buceess and unboimilcil applause, swcUdlrJ 
into an almost insane conviction of amwrhuman grentness, 
his own view, he stood apart from other men. He was no 
be measured by the standard of humanity. He was not 
be retarded by difficulties to whieh all others yielded. He w 
not to be Hubjected to laws and obligations which all othere w« 
expected to obey. Nature and the human will ■were to bendu 
his power. He was the child and favourite of fortune, a 
not the lord, the chief object of destiny. His history shows )tf 
spirit of self-exaggeration, unrivalled in enlightened ages, t 
which reminds us of an oriental king to whom incenss hadb 
burnt from his birth as to a deity. This was the chief sc 
his crimes. He wanted the sentiment of a common nature wiu|| 
his fellow beings. He had no sympathies with hie race, 
feeling of brotlierhood, which is developed in truly great strniM 
with peculiar energy, and through which they give up thee 
selves willing victims, joyful sacrifices, to the interests of n 
kind, was wholly unknown to him. His heart, amidst all S 
wild lieatings, never had one throb of disinterested love, 
ties which bind man to man he broke asunder. The proper ht^Kl 
piness of a man, which consists in the victory of moral enerrf'B 
and social affection over the seltish passions, he cast away fi 
thelonelyjoyof a despot. With powers, which might have n 
hi[n a glorious representative and minister of the beneficent 
vinity, and with natural sensibililieswhichmighthavebeen exalte 
into sublime virtues, he chose to separate himsel f from his kind, 9 
forego their love, esteem, and gratitude, that he might b 
their gaze, their fear, their wonder ; and for this selfish, golitl 
good, parted with peace and imperishable renown. 

This insolent exaltation of himself above the race to which I 
belonged, broke out in the beginning of his career, 
success in Italy gave him the tone of a master, and he n 
it aside to his last hour. One can hardly help being struck wi^ 
the natural manner with which he arrogates supremacy i 
conversation and proclamations. We never feel as if he 
putting on a lordly air, or borrowing an imperious tone. I 
proudest claims, he speaks from his own mind, and in nadW 
language. His style is swollen, but never strained, as if he wete " 
conscious of playing a part above his real claims. Even when 
he was foolish and impious enough to arrogate miraculous powers 
^A - _:.-:_ e — ^ ^J^^ }^ language allowed, that he thoughfc-- 



33 



I tbiere was eomcthing in lus character and exploits to give a colour 

I tp his bLaspfaemous pretensions. The erapireof the world seemed 

Itm him to be in a tneasnre his due, for nothing short of it corres- 

mded with his conceptiona of himself; and he did not use mere 

ETbimge.butspoke a language towhich he gave some credit, when 

le eailed his succetstve conquests ' the fulfilment of bis destiny.' 

1 This spirit of self-exaggeration wrought its own misery, and 

w down upon him terrible punishments ; and this it did by 

iting and perverting his high powers. First, it diseased his 

e intellect, gave imagination the ascendency over judgment, 

med the inventiveness and fruitfulness of his mind into rash, 

latient, restless energies, and thus precipitated hire into pro- 

i, which, as the wisdom of his counsellors pronounced, were 

it with ruin. To a man whose vanity took him out of the 

IrBnkofhumon beings, no foundation for reasoning was left. 

■ .All things seemed possible. His genius and his fortune were 

It to be bounded by the barriers, which experience had aasigned 

a human powers. Ordinary rules did not apply to him. Hia 

.gtnation, disordered by his self-exaggerating spirit and by 

abounded flattery, leaped over appalling obstacles to the prize 

L inilamed his ambition. He even found excitement and 

es in obstacles, before which other men would have wavered ; 

r these would enhance the glory of triumph, and give a new 

f Arill to the admiration of the world. Accordingly he again and 

[ain plunged into the depths of an enemy's country, and staked 

8 whole tbrtune and power on a single battle- To be rash was 

eed the necessary result of hia self-exalting and self-relying 

it ; for to dare what no other man would ilare, to accomplish 

,t no cither man would attempt, was the very way to display 

elf as a superior being in his own and other's eyes. — To 

e impatient and restless was another necessary issue of the 

e have described. The calmness of wisdom was-de- 

^Bied him. He, who was next to omnipotent in his own eyes, and 

o dehghted to strike and astonish by sudden and conspicuous 

erations, could not brook delay or wait for the slow operations 

^flf time. A work, which was to be gradually matured by the 

BJMnt agency of various causes, could not suit a man, who wanted 

I to be felt as the great, perhaps only, cause ; who wished to stamp 

ncy in the most glaring characters on whatever he 

rformed ; and who hoped to rival by a sudden energy the 

f and progressive works of nature. Hence so many of his 

■M were never completed, or only annoMioBd.. ThcyaweUed 



34 



hawtver the tide nf flattery, whidi ascribed to him the 
tion of what vks not yet begun, whilst bit resUeKs spirit, rushin 
to new enterprises, forgot its pledges, and left the pratnised pw 
di^es of hia creative genius to exist oiiJy in the records of adi 
lation. Thus the rapid and inventive intellect of Bonaparte in 
depraved, and failed to achieve a growing and durable greatnei 
through his self- exaggerating spirit It reared indeed a vast an 
imposing structure, but disproportioncd, disjointed, wkhoi 
strength, without found.ttions. One strong blastwan enoughl 
shake and shatter it, nor could his genius upholil it. Hb] 
would it have been for hts fame, had he been buried in its raiu 

One of the striking projierties of Bonaparte's character w 
decision, and this, as we have already seen, was perverted, by tJ 
spirit of self-exaggeration, into an inflexible stubbornness, whti 
oounsel could not enlighten, nor circumstances bend. Havii 
taken the first step, he pressed onward. His purpose he wisfai 
others to regard as a law of nature, or a decree of destiny. 
jfnut be accomplished. Resistance but strengthened it ; and i 
often had resistance been overborne, that he felt as if his unco] 
querable will, joined to his matchlesa intdlect, could vanquu 
all things. On such a mind the warnings of human wisdom ai 
of I'rovidence were spent in vain ; and the Man of Destiny livi 
to teach others, if not himself, the weakness and folly of 
all-defying decision, which arrays the purposes of a mortal wi 
the immutableness of the counsels of the Moat High. 

A still more fatal influence of the spirit of self-exaggeratii 
which characterized Bonaparte, remains to be named. It d 
praved to an extraordinary degree his moral sense. It did n 
obliterate altogether the idessof duty, but, by a singular pervt 
siwi, it impelled him to apply tliem exclusively to others, 
never seemed to enter liis thought, that he was subject to tl 
great obligations of morality, which all others are called to r 
spect. He wds an exempted being. Whatever stood in his wi 
to empire, he was privileged to remove. Treaties only bout 
his enemies. No nation had rights but his own France. H» 
claimed a monopoly in perfidy and violence. He was not' n 
rally cruel ; but wheli human life obstrurted his progress, it wu 
a lawful prey, and murder and assassination occasioned as litt]« 
compunction as war. The most luminous exposition of his moral 
code was given in his counsels to the king of Holland. ' Never 
forget, that in the situation to which my political system and the 
"gve called you, your first duty is toward^^ , 



35 

^£, your second towards France. All your other dutieii, evrn 
those towards the people whom I have called you to govern, 
j«nk after these.' To hii own mind he was the source and centra 
j)f duty. He was too peculiar and exalted, to be touched by tiiM 
4*ulgar stain, called guilL Crimes ceased to be such, when per^ 
petralcd by himself. Accordingly he always speaks of his trans- 
pessians as of indifferent acta. He never imagined that they 
4Bmiafaed his glory, or diminished his claim on the homage of the 
Vbrld- In St. Helena, though talking perpetually of himself, 
and often reviewing his guilty career, we are not aware tliat a 
mngle compunction escapes lum. He epeaka of his life as calmly 
as if it had been consecrated to duty and beneficence, whilst in 
•lie same breath he has the audacity to reproach unsparingly the 
fiuthlennesi of almost every individual and nation, with whom 
lie had been connected. We doubt whether history furnishes so 
Mrikingan example of the moral blindness and obduracy to which 
|u) unbounded egotism exposea and abandons the mind. 

Hia ^irit of self~exaggeration was seen in his openness to 
■diilatioi). Policy indeed prompted him to put his jN-aises into 
the mouths of the venal slaveti, who administered his despotism. 
Sutflatterywould not havebeenpemiitted to swell into exaggera- 
tions, now nauseous, now ludicrous, and now impious, if, in the 
bosom of the chief, there had not lodged a flatterer who sounded 
a louder note of praise than all around him. He was remarkably 
•ensitive to opinion, and resented as a wrong the suppression of 
Ilia praiaes. The press of all countries was watched, and tree 
Mates werecalled upon to curb it for daring to take liberties wiili 
bis name. Even in books published in France on general topics, 
he expected a recognition of his aulliority. Workaof talent were 
ippressetl, when their authors refused to offer incense at the new 
■iuine. He wished indeed to stamp his name on tJie literature, 
in tlie legislation, policy, warfare o£ his age, and to compel 
iua, whose pages survive statues, columns, and empires, to 
lake a place among his tributaries. 

We close our view of Bonaparte's character, by saying, that 
llis origioal propensities, released from restraint, and pampered 
by indulgence, to a degree seldom allowed to mortals, {[rew up 
into a spirit of despotism as stem and absolute as ever usurped 
the human heart. The love of power and supremacy alisorbed, 
aonsumed him. No other passion, no domestic attachment, no 
'{vrivBte friendship, no love of pleasure, no relish for letters or the 
1, no human s^- mpathv. no bmiBm wc akn CTs« diwdaAhittm inat. 



30 



with the passion for dominion and for daiKling manifestations d 
tiispower. Befuri;thia,duty,boninir, love, humanity fellproatrata 
Josephine, we are told, was dear to him ; but the devoted wife, 
who had Etood firm and faithfViI in the day of his doubtful fortune^ 



a stranger, 1 

vas aSectionj 

; but his brothers, i 

1 disgraced; rad 1 

n the presence of fa 



was east otF in his prosperity, to moke ri 

might be more subservient to his power. 

we are told, to his brothera and mother ; 

moment they ceased to be hia tools, 

mother, it is said, was not allowed to 

imperial son.* He was sometimes eoftened, we are told, Iqr d 

^gbt of the field of battle strown with the wounded and d 

But if the Moloch of his ambition claimed r 

to-morrow, it was never denied. '.Vith all his sensibility, be g: 

miUions to the eword, with as little compunction i 

have brushedaway so many insects, which had infested hinn 

la him, all human will, desire, power, were to bend. 

rlority, none might question. He insulted the fallen, who b 

contracted the guilt of opposing his progress ; and not era 

woman's loveliness, and tlie dignity of a que^i, could give d 

from his contumely. His allies were his vassals, nor n 

vassalage concealed. Too lofty to use the arts of conciliatil 

preferring command to persuasion, overbearing and allgrasping 

lie spread distrust, exasperation, fear, and revenge thro 

Jlurope ; and when the day of tribulation came, the old anti|N 

tbiesand mutual jealousies of nations were swallowed up ii 

burning purpose to prostrate the common tyrant, the universal^ 

Such was Napoleon Uonaparte. 
still a great man. This we mean not to deny. But we would 
have it understoMl, that there arevarious kinds or orders of great- 
ness, and that the highest did not belong to Bonaparte. There 
are different orders of greatness. Among these the firrt rank is 
unquestionably due to moral greatness, or magnanimity ; to that 
Bubhme energy, by which tlie soul, smitten with the love ^^ 
virtue, binds itself indissolubly, for life and for death, to t 
and duty ; espouses as ita own the interests of hur 
scams all meanness and defies all peril ; bears in its own <mi^M 
science a voice louder tlmn threutenings and thunders; witb- 
sbands all llie powers of the universe, which would sever it from 
the cause of freedom, virtue, and religion ; reposes an unfalter- 
ing trust in God in tlie darkest hour, and is ever ' ready to be 



e love 'VCv 

n natort^l 
awn caut^ 



XI 

Uered op* on the altar of iu oonntry or of mankind. Of thu 
Inoraj greatness, whttii throwB all other tbrnts of grestnees ints 
obscurity, we see not a trace or spark in NajHilEon. Though 
dothed with the power of a Gtxl, the thought of coDs«cra^ng 
kiin«df to the introduction of a new and higher era, to the ex> 
•Itation of the eharacter and conditioti of bia race, seems never 
to have dkwned un his niintL The spirit ot' disinterestixiiiegi and 
adf-sacrifice seems net to have waged a moment's war with adC- 
■rill and ambition. Hin ruling passions, indeed, were singularljr 
at variaace witli roagaanimity. Moral greatness has too much 
■mphcity, la too unuEteniatious, too self-aubsietcnt, and enters 
intD othere' interests with too much heartiness, to live a day for 
■rhat Naftoleon always lived, to maJic itself the theme, and gftiee, 
md wonder of a dazzled world. Next to moral, cunics inlellec' 
tual greatness, or genius in the highest ^nse of that word ; and 
by this, we mean that sublime capacity of tliought, tbrougli 
■rhich the sou!, gmitten with the love of the true and the lieauti- 
lul, easa,y& to comprehend the univerne, soars into the heavens, 
petltrtrates the earth, jienetratea itself, questions the [MSt, anti' 
Gipsies the future, traces out the general and all-«omprehend- 
\ag laws at nature, binds together by innumerable affinities 
and relations all the objects of its knowledge, and, not satisfied 
arilh wiuit exists and with what in finite, frames to it^f ideal 
(Kcellencc, loveliness, end grandeur. This ii tlie greatueaa 
wfaich belongs to philosophers, inspired poets, and to tlie master 
■pirita in the line arts. Nest comes the greatness of action; 
ud by this we mean the sublime power of conceiving and eie- 
tnting bold and nteniitve plans ; of constructing and bringing 
ear on a mighty object a complicated machinery of means, 
(nergies, and arrnngemcnts, and of accomplishing great outward 
iCts. To this head belongs the greatness of Bonaparte, a 
± be possessed it, we need not prove, and none will be hardy 
flDoitgb to deny. A man, who rai.fed himself from obscurity to 
a throne, who changed the face of the world, who made hunself 
It through powerful and civilized nations, who sent llie terror 
ofbia name across seas and oceans, whose wtU was pronounced 
and feared as destiny, whose donatives were crowns, whose ant«- 
dtawber was thronged by aubmissive princes, who broke down 
the awful barrier of the Alps and made them n highway, and 
whooe fame was spread beyond the boundaries of civilization to 
the steppes oftfieCosMick, and llie deserts of the Arab; a man. 
•ho tiM left this record nf himfiym hutory. hai taken ool qC 




tmr hands the questimi, whether he shall be caUciI great- Aff 
must concede to him a sublime power of actiim, an energy e<iual 
to great effects. 

We are not disposed, howeveTj to consider him as pre-emiaent 
«vcn in this order of greatness. War was his chief sphere. He 
gained his ascendency in Europe by the sword. But w,it is not 
the field for the highest active talent, Knd Napoleon, we suspect, 
was conscious of this truth. The glory of being the greatest 
general of his age, would not have satisfied him. He would have 
scorned to take hia place by the side of Marlborough or Turenne. 
It was as the founder of an empire, which threatened for a time 
to comprehend the world, and which demanded other talents be- 
sides that of war, that he challenged unrivalled fame; And here 
we question his claim. Here we cannot award him supremacy. 
The project of universal empire, however imposing, -was not 
original. The revolutionary governments of France had adople<l 
it before ; nor can we consider it as a sure indication of great- 
ness, when we remember that the weak and vain mind of Louis 
XIV. was large enough to cherish it. The question is ; dill 
Napoleon bring to this design the capacity of advancing it by 
bold and original conceptions, adapted to nn age of civilisation, 
and of singular inldlectual and moral excitement? Did he 
discover new foundations of power?' Did he frame new bonds 
of union for subjugated nations ? Did he discover, or origi- 
nate, some common interests by which his empire might be 
held together? Did he breathe a spirit which should supplant 
the old national attachments, or did he invent any substitutes 
for those vulgar instruments of force and curruption, whici) 
any and every usurper would have used ? Never in ihc re- 
cords of time, did theworld furnish such materials to work with, 
tuch means of modelling nations afresh, of building u]i a new 
power, of introducing a new era, as did Europe at the period 
f»f the French revolution. Never was the human mind w 
capable of new impulses. And did Napoleon prove hitnself 
equal to the condition of the world ? Uo we detect one original 
conception in his means of universal empire? Did he seize on 
the enthusiasm of his age, that powerful princi]>le, more eA>ci«nt 
than arms or policy, and bend it to his purjiose ? What did be 
Uo but follow tlie beaten track? but apply force and fraud 
in their very coarsest forms ? Napoleon showe<l a \-ulgar 
mind, when he assumed self-interest as the sole spring of 
With the aword in one hand «nd brftas 4|' 



3U 

die other, bv imagined himself absolute mn«ter of the human 
inind. The strenj^th of morul, tmtional, and doniestic feeliDff, 
lie could not comprehend. The finest, and after all, the most 
powerful elements in human nature, hardly entered into hi« eon- 
aeptians of it ; snd how then could he have established a durable 
power over the human race f We want little more to show his 
want of originality and comprehensiveness as the founder of an 
aspire, than tlie simple fact, that he chose as his chief counsellors 
Talleyrand and Fouch^, names which speak for tliemselvea. We 
may judge of tlie greatness of the master spirit, from the minds 
vhich he found most congenial with his own. In war. Bona* 
parte was great ; for he was bold, original and creative. Beyond 
Ae camp he indeed showed talent, but not superior to that of 
otfier cmioent men. 

There have been two circumstances, which have done much 

to disarm or weaken the strong moral reprobation with which 

Bonaparte ought to have been regarded, and which we deem 

Wwrthy of notice. We refer to the wrongs which he is supposed 

Id have auilered at St Helena, anil to the unworthy use which 

the Allied Powers have made of their triumph over Napoleon. 

Wint, hia supposed wrongs at St Helena have excited a sj'mpiitliy 

M hia behalf, which has thrown a veil over his crimes. We are 

, BDt disposed to deny, that an unwarrantable, because unnecessary, 

arverity wn* exercised towards Bonaparte. We think it not very 

Creditable to the British government,- that it tortured a sensitive 

«^)tive by refusing him a title which he had long worn. We 

ink that not only religion and humanity, but self-respect for- 

Is us to inflict a single useless pang on a fallen foe. But we 

aiild be weak indeed, if the moral judgments and feelings, with 

urfl Napoleon's career ought to be reviewed, should give place 

^riapiatby with the suff(>ringsby which it was closed. With 

to the scruples, which not a few have expressed as to the 

ght of banishing him to St. Helena, we can only say, that our 

macieaces are not yet refined to siicli exquisite delicacy, as to 

> St all sensitive on this particular. We admire nothing more 

Bcmaparte, than the eflrontery w ith which he claimed protection 

Dm the laws of nations. That a man, who had set these laws 

apen defiance, should fly to them for shelter ; that the oppressor 

tf the world diould claim its sympathy as an oppressed man, and 

his claim should find advocates ; these things are to be set 

tlw extraijrdinary events of this extrawdinary agei> 




every 



Truly, the haman race is in a pitiable stote. It may be trampleA ' 
on, wpmir6, loitded like a beaat dt' burden, made the prey of 
npacity, insolence, and the sword ; but it must not toucli a hair, 
or disturb the pillow of one of its oppressors, uolesa it can find 
chatter, and Verse in the code of national law, to authorize it£ 
rudeness towanla the privilegt.'d ofietider. For ourselves, we 
should rejoice to see every tyrant, whether a usurper, or here- 
ditary princ^, fastened to a lonely rock in tlie ocean. Whoever 
givca clear, undoabted proof, that he ia prepared and stenily re- 
solved to make the earth a alaiightev- house, and to crush every 
will adverse to hia own, ought to he cageil hke a wild beaa 
and to require mankind to proceed agninst him &ccordi>tg I 
written laws and precedents, as if he were a private c 
quiet court of justice, is just as rational as to require a man, in 
imminent peril from an assassin, to wait and prosecute his mur- 
dter&r according to the roost protracted forms of law. There are 
great solemn rights of nature, which precede laws, bihI on which 
law is foundeil. There are great exigencies inhuman afisirs, 
which speak for themselves, and need no precedent to teach tlie 
right path. There are awfol periods in the liiatory of our race, 
which do not belong to its ordinary state, and which are not to 
be governed by ordinary rules. Such a period was that, when 
Bonaparte, by infraction of solemn engagements, ha<I thrown 
himself into France, and convulsed all Europe ; and they, who 
conibimd tliis with the ordinary events of history, and see in 
Bonaparte hut an ordinary foe to tlie peace and independence of 
nations, have certainly very different intellects from our own. 

We confess, too, that we are not only unable to see the wrong 
done to Napoleon in sending bim to Sl Helena, but tliat we 
casnot muster up much sympathy for the inconveniences and 
privations which he endured there. Our sympAthies tn this par- 
ticular are wayward and untractable. When we would carry 
them to tliat solitary island, and fasten them on tlie illustrious 
victim of British cruelty, they will not tarry there, but take their 
Aight across the Mediterranean to Jaffa, and across the Atlantic 
to the platform where the Duke d'Engliieu was shot, to the prison 
of TousBaint,and to fields of battle where thousands at his bidding 
lay weltering in blood. Wiien we strive to fix our tlioughts upon 
the sufferings of the injured hero, otlier and more terrible suf- 
ferings, of which be was the cause, rusli upon us ; and his com- 
plaints, however loud and angry, are drowned by groans, and 

cratioiM wbiA fill o ur ears from every region which he tm-_ 



41 

Tosed. We have no tears to spare for fiillen ^reatnen, when 
diat greatness wna foiuideil in crime, and reared by force and 
perfidy. We reserve them for tlioae on whose ruin it rose. We 
keep our sympathies fur our race, for human nature in its hum- 
Uer forms, for the impoverished peasant, the widowed mother, 
ibe violated virgin ; and are even perverse enough to rejoice, 
that the ocean has a prison-houae, where tlie author of those 
miaeries may be tafely lodged. Bonaparte's history is to us too 
vlemn, the wrongs for wliich humanity and freedom arraign 
, are too flagrant, to allow us to play tlie part of sentimen- 
talists around his grave at St Helena. We leave this to the more 
Kfined age in which we live ; luul we do so in the hope that an 
tge is coming of less tender mould, but of loftier, sterner feeling, 
id of deeper sympathy witli the whole human race. Sliould 
r humble page then live, we trust with an undoubting faith, 
■ ibat the uncompromising indignation with which we plead the 
te of our oppressed and insulted nature, will not be set down 
■b the account of our v indict! veness and hardness of heart. 
« We observed that the moral indignation of many towartla 
laporte had been impaired or turned away, not only by his 
'Mippoaed wrongs, but by the unworthy use which his contjuerori 
tde of their triumph. \\'e are told, that bad as was his des- 
pitisn), the Holy Alliance is a worse one ; and that Napoleon 
.was less a scourge, than tlie present coalition of the continental 
Wooarchs, framed for the systematic suppression of freedom. 
Hy such reasoning his crimes are cloaked, and his fall made a 
ime of lamentation. It ts not one of the smallest errors ami 
s of the Alb'ed Sovereigns, that they Iiave contrived, by their 
le policy, to turn the resentments and moral displeasure of 
n from the usurper upon themselves. Fur these sovereigns 
uwe have no defence to offer. We yield to none in detestation of 
the Holy Alliance, profanely so called. To us its doctrines arc 
as &lse and pestilent, as any broached by Jacobinism. The Allied 
Monarchs are adding to the otiier wrongs of despots, that of 
flajp'ant ingratitude ; of ingratitude to the generous and brave 
nations, to whom they owe their thrones, whose spirit of inde- 
pendence and patriotism, and whose hatred of the oppressor, 
Oontributed more than standing armies, to raise up the tMlen, 

tand to strengthen the falling monarchies of Europe. Be it never 
Ibrgotten in the records of despotism, let history record it on her 
Diostdm'Bble tablet, that the first use made by the principal con- 
tineiital sovereigns of their regainetl ot eonftrmed \io'«et.'**»i 




to connpire against iho Iiopes and rights of the nations by whom 
ihey hfwl been saved ; and to combine the mihtary power of 
F.iimpe against fi'ee institutions, against the press, against the 
spirit of liberty and patriotism which had sprung up in the glo- 
rioui struggle with Napoleon, against the right of the people to 
exert an influence on the govemtnents by which their dearest 
interests were to be controlled. Never be it forgotten, that such 
was the honour of sovereigns, such their requital for the blood 
which had been sited freely in their defence. Freedom and 
humanity send up a solemn, and prevailing cry against them to 
that tribunal, where kings and subjects are soon to stand as equals. 
Diit still we should be strangely blind, if we were not to feel 
that the full of Napoleon was a blessing to the world. Who a 
look, for example, at Prance, and not see there a degree of fre 
dom which could ne\-er have grown up under the terrible fi 
of the usurper? True, Bonaparte's Hfe, though it seemed V ' 
charmed one, must at length have ended ; and we are told that 
then his empire would have been broken, and that the general 
cra»h, hy some inexplicable process, would have given birth to a 
more extensive and durable liberty than can now be hoped. But 
such anticipations seem to us to be built on a strange inattention 
to the nnture and inevitable conse(|uences of Napoleon's power. 
it waswholly a miUtary power. He was literally turning Europe 
into a camp, and drawing its best talent into one occapation, war. 
Thus F.urope was retracing its steps to those ages of calamity 
and darkness, when the only kw was the sword. The progress 
of centuries, which had eonsisted chiefly in the substitution of 
intelligeuce, public opinion, and other mild and rational influ- 
ences, for brutual force, was to be reversed. At Bonaparte's 
death, bis empire must, indeed, have been dissolved ; but mili- 
tary chiefs, like Alexander's Lieutenants, would have divided it. 
The sword alonewould have shaped its future communities ; and 
after years of desolation and bloodshed, Europe would liave 
found, not repose, but a respite, an armed truce, under warriors, 
whose only title to empire would have been their own good 
blades, and the weigiit of who«t thrones would have been upheld 
by military force alone. Amidst such convulsions, during which 
the press would have been every where fettered, and tlie military 
spirit would hove triuraplted over and swallowed up the spirit 
and glory of letters and liberal arts, we greatly fear, that the 
human intellect would have lost its present impulse, its thirst 
Ibr /ingress, and would have fallen biick towards barbaria|^| 




Let not the friends of freedom bring dishonour on thcmsclvet or 
desert their cause, by instituting compariHona between Napoleon 
and I^itimate sovereigns, which may be conittrued into eulogies 
tOB the former. For ourselves, we have no sympathy with 
tyranny, nhetlier it bear the name of usurpation or legitiiiucy. 
We are not pleading the cause of the allieti sovereigns. In our 
judgment, they have contracted the very guiltagaingt wluvh they 
bave pretended to combine. In our apprehension, a conspiracy 
against the rights of the human race, is as foul a crime as rt^-1- 
Ikm against the rights of sovereigns ; nor is there leas of treason 
in warring against public freedom, than in assailing royal power. 
•Still we are bound in truth to confess, that the allied sovereigns 
4re not to be ranked with Bonaparte, whose design against the 
independence of nations and tli liberties of the world, in this age 
«f civilization, liberal tliinking and christian knowledge, is in our 
estimation the most nefarious enterprise recorded in history. 

The series of events which it has been our proviive to review, 
offers subjects of profound thought and solemn instruction to the 
moralist and politician. We have retraced it with many painful 
Jeelings. It shows us a great people, who had caught some in- 
ilistinctglimpsesof freedom, and of a nobler and a happier pol it ir 
cal constitution, betrayed by their leaders, and brought back, by 
s military despot, to heavier chains than they had broken. We 
•ee with indignation one man, a nuui like ourselves, subjecting 
vfaole nations to his absolute rule. It is tliis wrong and insult 
to our race which has chiefly moved us. Had a storm, of God's 
flrdination, passed over Europe, prostrating its capitals, sweeping 
off Its villages, burying millions in*ruins, we should have wept, 
ve ehould have trembled. But in this there woitld have been 
«n] J wretchedness. Now we also see debasement. To tis there 
is something radically, and increasingly shocking, in the thought 
of one man's will becoming a law to his race ; in the thought of 
multitudes, of vast communities, surrendering conscience, intel- 
lect, their affections, their rights, their interests to tlie stern man- 
^te of a fellow creature. Vilien we see one word of a frail man 
«n the throne of France, tearing a hundred tliousand sons from 
lhei» homes, breaking asunder the sacred lies of domestic life, 
sentencing myriads of the young to make murder their calling 
and rapacity their means of support, and extorting from nations 
thnr treasures to extend this ruinous sway, we are ready to %k'l 
aursttlvcs. Is nv( this a dream.* And when the aaiiteiCw-s liovft-** 



J 




onet 



borne to us, we blush for a race which can stonp to such an abject 
lot. At length, indeed, we see the tyrant humhled, stripped of 
power ; but Htrippetl by those who, with one e)icepti< 
unwiJUng to play tlie despot on a narrower scale, and to bi 
down the spirit of nations under the same iron sw 

How is it, that tyranny has thus triumphed ? that the h< 
■withwhich we ^eeted the French revolution have been cmahed? 
that an usurper plucked up the last roots of the tree of Uberty, 
and planted despotism in its placed The chief cause is not far 
to seek, nor can it be too often urge<l on the friends of freedom. 
France failed through the want of that moral preparation /or 
liberty, without which the blessing cannot be secured. She was 
not ripe for the good she sought- She wan too corrupt for free- 
dom. Francehod indeed tocontendwithgreat political ignorance; 
but had not ignorance been reinforced by deep moral defect, she 
might have won her way to free institutions. Her character 
forbade her to be free ; and it now seems strange that we could 
ever have expected her to secure this boon. How coidd we 
believe, that a liberty, of which that heartless scoffer, VoltairB, 
WMaehiefapostle, could have triumphed? M oat of th« preachers 
of French liberty had thrown off all the convictions which ennoble 
the mind. Man's connexion with God they broke, fur they de- 
clared that there was no God in whom to trust in the great struggle 
for liberty. Human innnortalify, that truth which ia tlieaeedof 
■UgreainesB, they derided. To theirphilosophy, man wasa creature 
of chance, a compound of mutter, an ephemeron, a worm, who 
was soon to rot and perish for ever. What insanity was it to 
expect, that such men were to work outthe emancipation of their 
race .' that in such hands the hu[)cs and dearest rights of humanity 
vere secure ! Liberty was tainted by their touch, polluted by 
their breath, and yet we trusted that it was to rise in health 
and glory ironi their embrace. We looked to men, who openly 
founded morality on private interest, for tlie sacrifloes, the de- 
TOtion, the heroic virtue, which freedom always demands from 
her assertors. 

The great cause of the discomfiture of the late European 
struggle for lil>erty, is easily understood by an American, who 
recurs to the history of his own revolution. This issued pros- 
perously, because it was begun and was conducted under the 
auspices of private and public virtue. Our liberty did not come 
to us by accident, nor was it the gift of a few leaders ; but iU 
seeds were sown plentiiuUy iti the wiinds of the whole peopl*. 




h wu rooted in the conscience anil reason of the nation. It was 
the growth of deliberate convictions and generous principles 
liberally ditru8e«l. We had no Paris, no metropolis, which a few 
^.ieMlersewByed.andwhichsent forth itNinllueDce§, like 'amigh^ 
Lbean,' through dependent and subservient province!. The couo- 
Brtry was all heart. The living principle pervaded the conimu- 
Wty. and every village added strength to the solemn purpose of 
ItJicing free. We have here an explanation of a striking fact in 
Ibe history of our revolution ; we mean the wont or absence of 
lat description of great Inen, whom wo meet in other cDun- 
I ; men, who, by their distinct and single agency, and by 
r splendid deeds, detenninc a nation's fate. There was too 
much greatness in the American people, to admit this over- 
■/•hadowing greatness of leaders. Accordingly the United States 
J no liberator, no political saviour. Washington indeed con- 
as great blessings. But Washington was not a hero in 
e common sense of tliat word. We never spoke of him as 
die French did of Bonaparte, never talked of his eagle-eyed, 
«istiblc genius, as if this were to work out our sufety. Wc 
lever lost our self-respect. We felt that, under God, we were 
Q be free through our own courage, energy, and wisdom, under 
le animating and guiding influences of this great and good 
■iod. Washington served ua chiefly by his sublime moral 
ditiea, and not by transcendent talent, which, we apprehend, 
le did not possess. To him belonged the proud distinction oi' 
itang the leader in a revolution, without awakening one doubt 
r solicitude as to the spotless purity of his purpose. His wofl 
e gl«ry of being the brightest manifestation of the spirit, which 
fdgned in his country ; and in this way he became a source of 
energy, a bond of union, the centre of an enlightened people's 
confidence. In such a revolution as that of France, Washing- 
ton would have been nothing ,- for that sympathy, which sub- 
sisted between him and Ins fellow-citizens, and which was the 
Mcret of his power, would have been wanting. By an instinct, 
which is unerring, we call Washington, with grateful reverence, 
the Father of his Country, but not its Saviour. A people, which 
wants a saviour, which dues not possess an earnest and pledge 

Ivi freedom in its own heart, is not yet ready to be free. 
A great question here offers itself, at which we can only glance. 
If It moral preparation is reqmred for freedom, how, it is asked. 
An Europe ever he free ? How, under the dcspotisniH vihkk 
inw crush tJjc continent, can nations grow riYiefwi WXjen^^ \* 




ftto be boped, that men will learn, in the Rchool of slavery, the 
■pirit and virtues, which, we are told, can alone work out their 
deliverance ? In the absolute governments of Europe, the very 
nwtruraents of forming an enlightened and generous love of free- 
dom, are bent into the service of tyranny. The press is an echo 
of the servile doctrines of the court. The schools and seminaries 
of education are employed to taint the young mind witli the 
naaxims of despotism. Even Christianity is tamed into a preacher 
of legitimacy, and its temples are desecrated by the abject teach- 
ing of unconditional submission. How thm is the spirit of a 
wise and moral freedom to be generated and diffused ? We have 
stated the difficulty in its full force; for nothing is gained by 
winkingoutof sight the tremendous obstacles, with which liberal 
principles and institutions must contend. We have not time at 
present to answer the great question now proposed. We will 
only say, that we do not despair ; and we will briefly su^^est 
what seems to us the chiefexpedient, by which the cause of free- 
dom, obstructed as it is, must now be advanced, In despotic 
countries, those men, whom God hatli inspired with lofly senti- 
ments and a tliirst for freedom, (and such are spread through all 
Europe), must, in their individual capacity, communicate them- 
selves to individual minds. The cause of liberty on the conti- 
nent cannot now be forwarded by the action of men in masses. 
But in every country there are those who feel their degradation 
and their wrongs, who abhor tyranny as the chief obstruction of 
the progress of nations, and who are willing and prepared to 
suffer for liberty. Let such men spread around them their own 
spirit by every channel, which a jealous despotism has not closed. 
Let them give utterance to sentiments of magnanimity in private 
conference, and still more by the press ; for there are modes of 
clothing and expressing kindling truths, which, it is presumed, 
no censorship would dare to proscrilie. Let them especially 
teach that great truth, which is the seminal principle of 
OUB freedom, and the very foundation of morals and religi( 
we mean, the doctrine, that conscience, the voice of God 
heart, is to be listened to above all other gin'dcs and 1o«Ib ; that 
there is a sovereign within us, clothed with more awful powers 
a[id rights than any outward king ; and that he alone is worthy 
the name of aman, wliogives himself up solemnly, deliberately, 
to obey this internal guide through peril and in death. This is 
the spirit of freedom ; for no man is wholly antl immutably free 
but lie who hfls broken every outward yoke, tliat he may ob^ 



::3 



47 

hi8 own deliberate conscience. Thii is tbe lesson to be taught 
alike in republics and despotisms. As yet it has but dawned on 
the workL Its ^1 application remains to be developed. They 
who have been baptized, by a true experience, into this vital and 
all-comprehending truth, must every where be its propagators ; 
and he who makes one convert to it near a despot's throne, has 
broken one link of that despot's chain. It is chiefly in the diffu- 
sion of this loftiness of moral sentiment, that we place our hope 
of freedom ; and we have a hope, because we know that there 
are those who have drunk into this truth, and are ready, when 
God calls, to be its martyrs. We do not despair, for there is a 
oonti^gicm^ we would rather say, a divine power in sublime moral 
principle. This is our chief trust. We have less and less hope 
Iran fiiroe and bloodshed, as the instruments of working out 
ipan's redemption from slavery. History shows us not a few 
princes, who have gained or strengthened thrones by assassina- 
tion or war. But freedom, which is another name for justice, 
honour, and benevolence, scorns to use the private dagger, and 
wieldB with trembling the public sword. The true conspiracy, 
before which tyranny is to foil, is that of virtuous, elevated minds, 
which shall consecrate themselves to the w<H*k of awakening in 
men a consciousness of the rights, powers, purposes, and great- 
ness of human nature ; which shall oppose to force the heroism 
of intellect and conscience, and the spirit of self-sacrifice. We 
believe that, at this moment, there are virtue and wisdom enough 
to shake despotic thrones, were they as confiding, as they should 
be, in God and in their own might, and were they to pour them- 
sdves through every channel into the public mind. 

We close our present labours, with commending to the pro- 
lection of Almighty God the cause of human freedom and im- 
provement. We adore the wisdom and goodness of his pro videhce, 
which has ordained, that liberty shall be wrought out by the mag- 
nanimity, coinage, and sacrifices of men. We bless him for the 
glorious efforts which this cause has already called forth ; for the 
intrepid defenders who have gathered round it, and whose fame 
is a most precious legacy of past ages ; for the toils and suffer- 
ings by which it has been upheld ; for the awakening and thril- 
ling voice which comes to us from the dungeon and scaffold, 
^ where the martyrs of liberty have pined or bled. We bless him, 
that even tyranny has been over-ruled for good by exciting a 
resistance, which has revealed to us tlie strength of virtuous prin- 
ciple in the human souL We beseech this Great andGoodTweivx^ 




48 

tma whom all pure influences proceed, to enlcindle, by bid quid 
emnjf breath, nn unquenchable love of virtue and freedom ii 
those favoured men, whom he hath enriched and sif^altzed by J 
eminent gil^ and jiowers, that they may fulfil tlie high lunctioafl 
of inspiring tlielr fellow beings with a consciousneasaf thebirdkl 
right and destination of human nature. Wearied with violet 
and blood, we beseech him to subvert oppressive government^ 
by the gentle yet awful power of truth and virtue ; by the ti 
ingR of uncorrupted Christianity ; by the sovereignty of fl 
lightened opinion ; by the triumph of sentiments of magnanimity 4 
by mild, rational, and purifying influences, which will raise iT 
spirit of the enslaved, and whiclk sovereigns will be unable tl 
withstand. For tliis peaceful revolution we earnestly prayyl 
If, however, sStet long forbearing, and unavailing applicatioi 
to juatice and humanity, tlie frienda of freedom should be si 
moned, by the voiceofGod witlitn, andby bis providence abio 
to vindicate their rights with other arms, to do a sterner worl^l 
to repel despotic force by forte, may they not forget, even ii 
this hour of provocation, the spirit which their high calling dawj 
mands. Let them take the sword with awe, as those on wh< 
aholy function is devolved. Let tliemregard tliemselves 
ters and delegates of Him, whose dearest attribute is Merc 
Let them not stain their aacred cause by one cruel deed, by tl 
infliction of one needless pang, by shedding without cause oi 
drop of human blood. 



^ 



DIALOGUES 



ON 



iiL'S'^siiBsaiisi'S' 



% 



EXTRACTED FROM THE UTICA CHRISTIAN REPOSITORY. 



PHILADELPHIA: 



PUBLISHED BY JOHN GRIGG, No. 9 NORTH FOURTH STREET. 



/. Aihmad U Co, Printfre. 
1825. 



DIALOGUES 

(DS9 A^r(DSMmi£S1V< 



DIALOGUE I. 



PmiHmu. I understand that you think it improper to say that 
Christ died for all men ; Is it so ? 

Jltpasio, I do think it improper. I think he died for the elect 
only. 

jP. Will you be so kind as to state the arguments on which you 
rely, to prove that Christ died for the elect only ? 

Jl. I will. My first argument is this : " The motive which in- 
duced the Father to send the Son, and which induced the Son to 
undertake to die, was special love to the elect. Those therefore who 
were not elected were not properly the objects of the death ot 
Christ." How can you elude the force of this argument ? 

F. I shall say, it takes for granted that which ought to be proved, 
namely, that it was special love to the elect which induced Cnrist to 
lay down his life. I avoid your conclusion by denying your pre- 
mises. 

jS, If you say it was not special love to the elect, which induced 
Christ to lay down his life, *' you will contradict the whole word of 
God, which represents the death of Christ as the effect of the great- 
est love ever exhibited." 

P. I ^rant that the scriptures represent the death of Christ as an 
expression of the greatest love ever exhibited. But what then? 
Love for whom ? That is the question. 

•^. Love for the elect undoubtedly. 

P. Love for the elect, you say ; but what saith the scripture ? 
** God so loved the world that he gave his only beeotten Son that 
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting 
life." Johrii iiL 16. I know that some who advocate your opinion, 
put in the word elect before worlds in this text, and make it read 
** God so loved the elect world,^^ &c. and then bring it forward to 
confirm your opinion ; but I think you will not venture to make 
such an interpolation. 

•^. But what kind of love could God feel for the non-elect ? 

P. What kind of love could God feel for the elect, before their 
regeneration, while they were yet enemies ? I know of but two kiodft 
oflove which God can feel towards Ids creatuieft, Otv^\^, ^\»^^^ 




¥ 

Ggieeui or complacencr, whicli he feels for those who are _. 
holy, aod cannot feel lor anj others ; for he cannot look with 
placcncj upon those who are totally unlike himsclfi'he cannot 
esteem those who are totally destitute of any moral zoodness; hcr 
cannot delight in those who do nothing but sin ; he hates all the- 
workers of iniqiiify. Before regeneration, the elect are the samv 
in their moral character, as the non-elect. They are by nature* 
children of wrath, even as others. 

•I. I grant that God cannot feel this kind of love for the elect, be> 
fore regeneration, any more than for the non-elect. But what i» 
the other kind of love, of which you speak i' 

P. It is the love of benevolence or good will. This has for it*i 
object alt creatures capable of enjoyment or suR'ering ; and regards 
the happiness of each one accoruing to its real worth. Now thsi 
happiness of an individual is not, in itself, any more valuable, if 
he is elected, than if he is not elected. But God regards things ai^ 
cording to their real worth. His regard for the happiness of ths 
Don elect, therefore, is the same as for tliat of the elect. — Whciif 
this kind of love is exercised towards the guilty, it is called conw 
passion. It is this which is expressed in tlie invitations of mercf ' 
which are addressed to sinners, in the commands to choose life, itte 
the warnings, expostulation!^, and entreaties with which God calls 
upon the wicked to forsake their wickedness and turn to him. It. 
is this compassion fur sinners which is expressed in the oath of God^ 
"As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death » 
the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live." Ifc 
was this compassion for sinners which led the Saviour to weep oveTi 
Jerusalem, and to say, " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that xille^l 
the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how oftetti 
would I hiive gathered thy children together, even as a hen gather-* 
eth her chickens under her wings, and yc would not 1" Finallr, it 
is this compassion fur sinners, which is expressed by the Father, 
in giving his ^on to die, and bv the Sun in laying down his life. 
Ann this is the plain import of tlie test before mentioned," God SO 
loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son." 

^. But why slinuld the non-elect be considered as the objects 
of this love .' Had they not " forfeited all regard from their Cre- 
ator f" 

P. And had not the elect also forfeited all regard from their 
Creator? What was there in the elect, before regeneration, to 
entitle them to this regard from him, any more than the non-elect' 
I see no force in your question, unless the reason why some an 
elected rather than others, is, that they are not so guilty i a notion 
very acceptable to the human heart, because well adapted to flatter 
ltd selfishness and pride. 

^. But if God really felt such love for all men as to give his SoB 
to die for them, why does he not save tliem all ? 

P. Because they reject offered mercy, and rrfiise to accept tlie 
SftTiour tliat is provided; our Lord says, "ye will not come to met 



^^Mtyv might liare life." 



to 

tl 

DO ^1 

DB ^M 

he I 

1 



j9. But if he loved them enough to give his Son to die for them, did 
he not also love them enough to change their hearts, and make tiiem 
willing to accept the offered mercy ? 

P. If their happiness were the only thing he regarded, he would 
doubtless change their hearts, and make them all nappy. Can you 
tell me why God chooses to save a part rather than the whole of 
mankind ? 

wf. I suppose he loved a part, more than he did the rest, and so 
gave his Son to die for them and not for the rest. 

P. But why should he love the elect before regeneration, more 
than the non-elect? No reason appears. They are no better by 
nature, nor is their happiness in itself any more valuable. That 
he does love them any more, is a mere assumption of your oWn, 
and has no countenance from the word of God. 

A. What reason then can you give, why he saves a part rather 
tban the whole of mankind ? 

P. If their happiness was the only thing to be regarded, he would 
save them all* Why does not the humane and compassionate judge 
acquit the murderer, and set him at liberty, instead of pronouncing 
ajpon him the sentence of the law P Is it because he has no compas- 
sion for him ? 

A. No ; that cannot be the reason. He cannot be humane and 
compassionate, if he does not feel strongly for the miserable cul- 
prit. I have never heard a ^ood judge pronounce sentence ot death 
upon a criminal without seeing him, at the same time, deeply mov- 
ed and affected even to tears^ — But while he feels strongly for the 
culprit, and is moved with the tenderest compassion for him, his re- 
gard for the/ni6/tc good predominates over his4'egard for the hap- 
piness of the criminal, and he gives him up to suffer the punishment 
he deserves. 

P. You have given the true reason wliy God saves a part, ratlier 
than the whole of mankind. He feels as strong and livelv a com- 
passion for the non-elect, as for the elect. But while he is moved 
with the tenderest compassion for them, his regard for the public 
good predominates over his regard for their happiness, and he gives 
them up to suffer the punishment they deserve. 

It is evident, therchire, that God felt no special love for the elect, 
no love of a different kind, or of a different degree, from that whicli 
he felt for the non -elect. He loved one as much as he did the 
other ; and in the exercise of that love for all, he gave his Son to die 
for all. 



DIALOGUE 11. 



P. Wliat is your second argument, to prove that Christ died for 
the elect only r 

d. My second argument is this : ** Christ in undertaking tii\e ^i&^^ 
of mediator, had a certain number given to V\\m ot \\ve '^^^.^^'c. 



whose snlvation he undertook to accomplish, by dying fiv 
and preparing them for heaven." Now, "If only a part of th 
human family were given to Christ, in the eternal cnunse's of peac*, 
how can it be supposed that he should, ybr no importaiil purpoi 
for others r" 

P. If I rightly understand your arsumciit, it is this : The sre^ 
object of Christ in laying down his life, was the salvation of uioW 
for whom he died : But as he did not intend to save any but 
elect, he could not have died fur any others. Do 1 understu 
you. 

A. You do. " Christ has died on the cross. The ()uestian i 
for whom did he dieP Certainly if we can ascertain his own di 
sign in this awful transaction, we have an answer to the questin 
But the death of Christ is a means of salvation. Properly then I 
may be said to have died for all whom he designed to bring to sai 
vation, and for none else." 

P. I grant freely, that only a part of mankind were §iven to 
Son in the covenant of Redemption, and that tlie salvation of thi _ 
was one important object he had in view, in laying down his lU^ 
But I see not how it follows, that this was his only object, or evoi 
his principal object. 

M. But if you hold that " he died for those whom he had no i 
lention to save, it is incumbent on" you " to point out for wh 
end. No wise aeent performs an important work without havini 
an important ena in view." Tell, me, then, if you can, " Whw 
was the end of Christ in dying for those whom he had no intentiM. 
of savin-?" 

P. The groat end of God, in all that he has done, is to promi 
bis own glory. For this he has created angels and men, and for tl 
he has formed, and will carry into effect the whole plan of his ad- 
ministration. — This is an end worthy of himself. To make any 
thing less than this his ultimate end, would be infinitely unworthy of 
him. Do vou admit this? 

A Certainly. I believe that " For his own glory he hath fore* 
ordained whatsoever comes to pass." 

P. The great end of God then, being his own glory, whatever he 
has done is to be considered as intended to promote this. What- 
ever comes to pass was foreordained by infinite wisdom and soocl' 
ness, in order to promote this great end. Did God determine tl 
create angels ? It was to promote his own glory. Did he deter* 
mine that some of them should persevere in holiness, and be forevar 
happy ? It was to promote his own glory. Did he determine tliat 
some of tliem should fall into sin, and be for ever miserable f It wai 
to promote his own glory. Did he determine to make man f It 
was to promote his own glory. Did he determine that man should 
fall into sin, and come under the condemnation of his law i It wu 
to promote liis own glory. Did he determine to save a part of man- 
kind from sin and misery, through a Redeemer ? It was to promote 
his own glory. Did he determine tiiat a part of mankind should b» 
KMi to perish in tJwir sins : it was to promote his own glory. 



df. But because God mikes his own slory his chief end, does it 
loUow that he has no regard to the good of creatures P 

P. By no means. He regards the happiness of every creature^ 
according to its real wortl^ But the happiness of all creatures, 
taken together, is not worth so much as the glory of God. For» 
what comparison can there be between finite and infinite ? To 
represent God as dbreearding the happiness of any of his creatures, 
would be to represent him as a cruel, unfeeling, and odious tyrant. 
But to represent him as regarding the good of creatures more than 
his own glory, would %e to represent him as valuing a les8|;ood 
more than a srNitergood, which would be inconsistent with infinite 
goodness. While, therefore, he makes his own glory his primary 
object, he makes the good of creatures a secondary object. If }[ou 
ask, then, what was the motive which induced the ^ther to give 
his Son to die for the elect ? I answer, regard for his own glory, 
was his chief inducement, and regard for their happiness was a 
secondary inducement. Each of tnese had influence with him in 
proDortion to its intrinsic importance. 

•ff. Very well. But what was the motive which induced the 
Father to give his Son to die for the non-elect ? 

P. The same answer may be given. Regard for his own glory 
Was his chief inducement, and regard for their happiness was a 
secondary inducement 

dS. How is the dory of God promoted by his giving his Son to' die 
fiur the non-elect F 

P. His mercy is glorified in the offer of forgiveness, which is made 
to them for Christ's sake ; his truth and sincerity are glorified, in 
his inviting them to turn and live ; his patience and long suffering 
are glorified, in his bearing so lonjg witn all their ingratitude and 
contempt of offered mercy ; and noally, his justice is glorified, in 
their aggravated condemnation»for having rejected the Saviour that 
was provided for them. 

A, But why could not his mercy be glorified in the offer of for- 
giveness to them, if Christ had not died for them ? 

P. Could mercy have been glorified in the pardon of sinners, if 
no atonement had been made P 

dS. By no means. *' Without the shedding of blood, there is no remis- 
sion."— -If sinners had been forgiven without an atonement,it would 
not have been a manifestation of the glorious attribute of mercy, but 
of a weak and inglorious partiality for the wicked. 

P. If, then, where no atonement is made, no forpveness can be 
granted, it follows, that where no atonement is made, no forgive- 
ness can be offered ; at least, there is no manifestation of mercy in 
such an offer. For, if the offer should be accepted, the forgiveness 
could not be sranted. What will the non-elect think, in the great 
day, if they md, that forgiveness was offered them on the part of 
God, witii the greatest appearance of compassion for them, and at 
the same time discover, that if they had accepted the offer, foigive- 
ness would have been refused P Will their mouths be stopped ? 
Will thej not rather be open^ wide ? Will tht^ ufA. cmani^ir ^^^ 



r 



fttul justly too, as so fur I'l-om beiog a muifesUtloti of uerc^, i 
it was alto^lher iDgiacere, and no better than mockJag their n 
ery? 

A, But you suppose acase that never canhappen. " If jou ! 
(Mse a non-elect man may believe, you Bhould suppose, at the san 
time, that both the decree of elecliun and of redemption, correspoDl 
with this cveut; and then all difficulty will be removed." 

P. The non-elect are either ahh or xttuMt to accept the o __ 
If they are ^U, then the case can happen ; and the appearance ol 
mercy, expressed in the u&cr, should be judj^d of accordingly. " 
they ore tenable, then the difficulty is greatly increased ; ftir th ^ 
are not nnly tantjilii^ed with the otTer of foigiveness which carmdl 
be granted, but they are mocked with proposals which they cannr* 
comply with. It is like calling upon a arownine man to take hold i 
a rope, and save himself, when there is not only no rope within h 
reach, but he has no hands to take hold of one if there were. 

But if Christ has died for all men, they can all be forgiven, tf I 
they will repent and believe. And so the offer of forgiveness can bo I 
consistently made to them, on the part of God, and be a real ex- 
pression of his mercy. And since tliey are all mural agents, an4' 
able to accept tlie oHer, their salvation is, by this means, put entirely I 
at their own option. Should an eartlily ^vernment offer pardor' 
to a criminal, upon the easy condition of his own voluntary accept 
ance, and should it appear that every obstacle was removed, 
that he might be pardoned if he w'ould, there would be no 
the merciml disposition of that government. Even the crimii 
himself would say, with his dying breath, " The government 

^ merciful, but I would not receive pardon at their hands." 
I 



DIALOGUE III. 
I to say respecting the (ruth and sinceiity i^ I 



.9. What have 
iodP 

P. If Christ has died for all, then, the truth and sincerity of Godi ] 
are glorified, in his inviting all to turn and live. If Christ nas died f 
for all, then he has made ample provision for the salvation of all*- 1 
)irovided they will comply with the prescribed conditions. WheOi 1 
a man makes a feast, and invites twenty persons to come and par- 1 
take of it, what does the invitation say to all and each of themf f 
Come, for there is provision made to entertain you r or. Come, fat' 
there is no provision made for you? Certainly, the invitation 
ninounts to a declaration that there is provision made for every ooe 
who is invited ; and it is so understood by those who are invited. 
And if it nere not so understood, it would not be considered a sin- 
cere invitation, but a gross insult. If the master of the feast should 
■ay, I invite twenty when there is only provision made for five : 
y[m are all invited to come, but if you come, only live can be re- 
peiicJ, and the rest must go empty away : What would be thougbt t 



•f such a nanP But tlie invitations of the gospel are not attended 
with anj such declaration. They say, " Come, for all tilings are 
ready." No minister of the gospel is sent to say to the non* elect. 
Come for there is no provision made for you ; come, for if you do, 
you will be shut out. 

w9. But the ministers of the 8;ospe1 do not know who the elect are. 
and therefore, they cannot go otherwise than invite all indis- 
criminately. — When they address acompany of sinners, they do not 
know but that they are all elected ; and tlierefore, they can sincere- 
ly invite them all. 

P. But the ministers of the eospel are only servants, sent in their 
master's name, to proclaim his invitation. The invitation is hU, 
not theirs. And he knows for how many he has made provision. 
The question is, how he can sincerely invite all to come. The in- 
vitation to any one, certainly holds out the idea that there is pro* 
vision made for him. He so understands it ; and it is intended that 
he should so understand it. He must so understand it, not to feel 
himself insulted by the invitation. If he understands that he is 
invited, while, at the same time, there is no provision made for him, 
he will feel it as a gross imposition. Or, il he should not discover 
it till long afterwards ; if he should at the time, suppose the invita- 
tion to be sincere ; but should afterwards discover, that no provision 
was made for him, and that if he had come, he would have been 
CKclnded, he cannot look back upon the transaction, and consider 
it in any other li^t. 

A. But the invitations of the gospel are not in fact, made to all 
the human race. A great part of the world have never heard the 
gospel. 

A The ministers of the gospel are commanded to preach it to 
every creature. That they have not done so, is a fault of theirs, 
for which they will have to answer to their master, in the great day. 
The invitations of the gospel are, therefore, in fact, directed tb 
every creature. But, Aspasio, do you think that all are elected, 
who hear the sospel preached ? 

A. No. I have no reason to think that. 

P, Then the fact, that the gospel has not been actually preached 
to every creature, will avail you nothing. It looks like a mere sub- 
terfuge, intended to evade coming to the point, and meeting the 
difficulty fairly. 

A, But I thmk the invitation may be given to all men, as sin- 
cerely, upon my plan, as upon yours. 

P, How can that be ? 

A, I will tell you. Suppose a thousand captives are confined in 
prison— suppose a person wishes to redeem one hundred of them, 
and, for that purpose, pays to the authority which holds them in 
prison, a pearl ofgreat value, '< sufRcient to redeem all the captives 
in prison ; but the person paying it has in view only to redeem his 
own friends; this intention in the redeemer, and the acceptance of 
the price by the authority which holds them in bondage, constitu|»«^ 
the pearl a faMom^ and confines it to the num)Mt ioT NAvvca vO 

B 




cam I 



to 

designed. But the Marl itself is sufBcient to ranRoin all the n 
nf the captives, if it nnd been applied to their advantage. To carrvV 
on the allusion, suppose that the person undertaking to redeem httl 
frieods should say, 'I will have proclamation made in the prisoBtl 
that every one who will acknowledge me as his deliverer, and wiUl 
submit hjmself to my authority, may immediatelj come forth, nal 
the footing uf the ransom wHich 1 have paid ; for none but ntj^l 
friends wilt accept these terms; the remainder will prefer theira 

firison to liberty, which can only be had by submission to me, whofll^ 
hey inveterateiy hate.' Now the person commissioned to canyl 
these tidings to the prison, would feel himself authorised to pro- 
claim deliverance to every one who was willing to accept the terms, 
and to use arguments and motives to induce them to submit ; bat 
the event would be, that none would accept the offer but the real 
friends of the redeemer. This he knew from the beginning, and 
therefore he paid the ransom for no others. Is there any thiif 
insincere in this whole transaction ?" 

P. Was the pearl paid for the whole, or only for a part ? 

S. It was paid only for the hundred who were intended tolwf 
redeemed. — There was nothing paid for the rest, 

P. Then its value makes no difference. If the whole price ii _ 
paid for the hundred, there wag nothing paid for the nine hundr«&l 
They are in just the same situation as to the possibility of their dv^S 
liverance, as if no ransom had been paid for any. The great TalncV 
of the pearl, seems to me to be only a blind, to prevent the trflsC 
Btate of the ease from being seen. What if some of the nine hoB'i 
dred had accepted the offer, and attempted to come out, would tl 
not have been stopped at the door, by the keepers of the prison 
"Would they not have been told there is no ransom paid for joa^ 
you cannot be released ? 

A You ought not to ask such a tiuetitlon ; for it was foreseen that 
none of them would accept the offer. 

P. But there ia a wide difference between their beine; hindered 
only by their own voluntary refusal of the offer, and their being 
hindered also by the want of a ransom being paid for them. In the — 
one case they covld come out if they would; in the other the/l 
touhx mil come out if they would. In the one case, their liberation I 
is possible, and depends on their own voluntary choice ; in the ^ 
Other, their liberation is impossible, for if they should choose to 
come out, and make the attentpt. they would find the doors locked 
and barred against them. Ifthe ransom had been paid for the 
whole, and their liberation had been rendered possible, and had 
been made to depend entirely upon their own voluntary choice, 
then they could all be sincerely invited to come out; but if the 
ransom v.aa paid only for the hundred, and nothing was paid for 
the rest, their liberation was impossible ; it did not depend upon 
their own voluntary choice; they could fuif come out, if they teauidf 
aud therefore to make the offer to them, and call upon them to 
le out, is just as if one should go to the doors of u prison, and 
through (he grates, should call upon tlie prlsouers to riu 4 



11 



tnd come out* when they are fast bound in chains, and the doors 
are locked and barred against them ; which would be but mocking 
their misery. 



DIALOGUE lY. 

JL I think the patience and forbearance of God, towards the non- 
dect* appears as great upon my plan as upon yours. 

P. How so ? 

•tf. Because ** those who are not elected, are, nevertheless, under 
Ae goTemment of God, and bound by his laws : if, therefore, they 
Uto where the gospel is preached, they cannot but be required to 
believe in Christ, for it is a reasonable duty. It is required by the 
■loral obligation which they are under ; for the law of God certain- 
1t binds ul men to the performance of every holy act." When* 
Aerefore, they refuse to obey his laws, and provoke him by their 
transgressions, his patience and forbearance are manifested, in not 
cutting them off at once, and sending them to the regions of des- 
pair, a% they deserve. 

P. I grant, that the non-elect are under the government of God, 
and bound by his laws ; and that they are required to love God 
with all their hearts, and to express that love by all those holy acts 
which are suited to their condition and circumstances. So are the 
devils. They are under the government of God too, and bound by 
his laws ; and they are required to love God with all their hearts* 
and to express that love by all those holy acts which are suited to 
their eonaition and circumstances. But will you say, that the de- 
vils are bound to receive Christ as their Saviour ? 

^. No. " Devils are confined in chains of darkness. They have 
no offers of mercy. They receive no benefits ; and their salvation 
is, in the nature of thin^, impossible; for thoueh Christ's merit is 
of infinite value in relation to the object he had in view, yet we 
have no right to assert, that obedience to a human law, and suffer- 
ing the penalty of that law, would be a sufficient atonement for be* 
ings of an infinitely different species, of whose sin we have no par<* 
ticular information." 

P. But the devils ** are, nevertheless, under the government of 
God, and bound by his laws :" and '* the law of God certainly binds 
all to the performance of every holy act" Why should they not 
*' be required to believe in Chnst, for it is a reasonable duty ?" 

A, I nave given the reason already. It is not a reasonable duty 
for them, because their condition and circumstances are different 

P. Very well. And for the same reason, upon your plan, the 
non-elect are not bound to believe in Christ^-— He did not die for 
them. There is no atonement fbr them. " Their salvation, is, in 
the nature of tilings, impossible; for thoueh Christ's merit is of in- 
finite value in relation to the object he had in view," it was not his 
object to die for the npn-elect His death \s kH uo nAu^ va t^^&ssiti 




to them. If thej appear to have any olTers of mercy, it is onlyis 
appearance, and not in reality. It ia only becanse the elect are w 
iningled with them, tliat the ministers of^the gospel cannot distill* 
guiBh, and snare compelled to make an indiscriminate offer; it is not 
because there is any mercy for them, which the^ can have, for whert 
no atonement is made, no mercy can be exercised. If they receira 
any benelit now, it is only for the elect's sake, and because they are bo 
ming;led with them, that they cannot but partake of common favourii 
as the barren ruck shares in the rain from heaven, which falla ob 
the fruitful field. It is not because they enjoy any of those privi* 
leges of a stale of probation, which constitutes a fair opportunity 
for securing their sakation. They have no such opportunity. Thecs 
is no atonement fur them. It is a reasonable duty for all those Sat 
whom Christ died, to believe in him, to receive him as their Sarioiiit 
but it is not a reasonable duty fur devils, because Christ did nol 
die for them ; and, for the same reason, it cannot be the duty of th» 
iiOn-elect, upon your plan. They cannot have Christ for their Sa- 
viour, for he did not die for them. 

^. How then do the patience and forbearance of God appcil 
greater upon your plan than upon mine f 

P. The patience and forbearance of God, in sparing the guiltn 
is great, in proportion to the number and magnitude of their of-^ 
fences. The non-etect are guilty of all those ofl^nces a^inst Go^ 
upon my plan, which they are upon yours, and others beaideii grM% 
and numerous, and aggravated. ' 

^. What are theyf ■- 

P. On my plan, the non-elect are guilty of rejecting a SaviovT 
that is piiivided for them ; of hating, and persecuting, and crucify* 
ing the Son of God, who loved them, and wept over them, and pour' 
ed out his life's blood for their souls. They are guilty of despising 
the meicy of the Father, who calls upon them in the most aflect— 
Ing terms, and exiwstulales with them, and warns them, and entreats- 
them to repent and be saved, declaring with all the solemnity «tt- 
an oath, " As I live, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicKedi. 
but that the wicked turn from his way and live." They are guilt^ 
of resisting and grieving the Holy Spirit, who strives with them* 
and reproves them, and calls upon them to embrace the Saviour 
who died for tliem. They are guilty of wasting tlieir period «£ 
probation, and sinning away their day of grace; of refusing to se- 
cure the siilvation of their souls, when it is put in their own poweiv 
und of wantonly and wickedly throwing themselves away, when- 
eternal life is brought within their reach. With these sins ther 
are not chargeable, upon your plan ; for no salvation is provider, 
no Saviour has died fur them, no mercy can be had, no opportunity 
for securing eternal life is aft'urded. Since, tliereforc, (he non -elect, 
on my plan, are guilty of these great and aggravated sins, with 
wliich, on your plan, tliey cannot be cliargeablii, the patience aod 
forbrnrance of God, in sparing them from day to day, is, on aj 
plan, far more gloriously displayed, than they can be upon youn. 



i;} 



DIALOGUE V. 

jf. You wi11» at l«uit, acknowledge* that the joetice of God it 
glorified in the condemiiatioa of the non-elect* even though no 8a*- 
Tioar died for them. 

P. Yes : but in a degree fiir less. " 

A. How so ? 

P. The non -elect* as well as others, are bound to love God with 
all their hearts, and to keep his commandments perfectly ; and for 
refusing to do this, they are justly condemned. For this they 
would be justly condemned, though no Saviour had been provided. 
So far, the justice of God would be glorified in their condemna- 
tion, whether Christ died for them or not. But if Christ has not 
died for them, the justice of God cannot be glorified in condemn- 
ing them for rejecting a Saviour. There is no Saviour for them* 
that they can reject. The justice of God cannot be glorified in 
condemning them for refusing to secure the salvation of their souls. 
There is no salvation brought within their reach which they can re- 
fuse. The justice of God cannot be glorified in condemning them 
for despising his offered mercy. There is no mercy for them which 
they can despise. If, therefore, on your plan, the wicked are in- 
excusable for not loving and serving God, on mine they are doubly 
inexcusable. If on your plan they are justly condemned for re- 
fusing to love and serve God, on mine, they are justly condemned 
for the same thing, and besides this, they are justly condemned for 
rejecting a Saviour that was provided for tliem, for throwing awaj 
their souls, when their salvation was put within their power* ana 
for despisins the mercy which they might have enjoyed. 

A. You also mentioned God's regard for the happiness of the 
non-elect, as a secondary inducement with him to give his Son to 
die for them. How does it show any re^rd for their happine88» 
when* according to your own representation, their condemnation 
becomes only more aggravated in consequence ? 

P. It must be remembered that it becomes so through their 
own fault. They neglect to improve the privileges put into their 
hands. Thej might be saved, it they would, but they will not. 

A. But this was known to God, from the beginning ; and there- 
fore, it seems to me, that a regard for their happiness would have 
dictated that no such privileges should be given them, which they 
might abuse. How can it be any privilege for a man to be put in- 
to a situation to increase his guilt, and consequently his misery ? 

P. Do you believe, then, Aat the non-elect enjoy no privileges 
or blessings in this life ? 

A. I would not say that. I admit that they « are placed here ia 
m condition of comfort, or, at least, in a mixed state, where many 
blessings and privileges are enjoyed ; and this occurs in conse- 
quence of the mediation of Christ" And m this* their situation 
differs from that of the devils. " Devils are confined in chiuns of 
darkness. They receive no benefits." v \. \_ 

P. How can the common blessings of hie, wYwcYv Vtv^^ ^Tiys^ ^\^ 




considered any blessiugs to them, since they abuse them also, to 
increase their guilt, anil aggravate their final condemnation r And'- 
how IB it any kindaess to bestow such blessings upon them, when it. 
was known, from the beginning, that thej would so abuse them f • 

•4. That which is, io its own nature, a good, and capable of beiof 
improved by us to our advantage, is a Llessing, and must be H 
considered, whether we improve it or not. 

P. Then you have answered your own question. That which i^ 
in its own nature, a good, and capable of being improved by us tk 
our advantage, is a blessing ; and it is a privilege to have it 
bestowed upon us, and a kindness in the bestower, whether we 
improve it to our advantage or not. By Christ's dying fer 
the non-elect, they are placed in a situation very difl'erent froB 
that in which they would have been, if he had not died for tiiemi 
If he had not died for them, they would have been in a situation, iC 
least, substantially the same as that of the devils. They could 
have had no privileges. No blessings could have been bestowed 
upon them. They could receive no benefits. For where there 9C 
no atonement, no mercy can be shown. But since Christ has died 
for all, all " are placed in a condition of comfort, or, at least, in s 
mixed state, where many blessings and privileges are enjoyed.** 
But besides this, those who live where the gospefis preached, noft- 
elect, as well as others, are placed in a situation in which they en* 
joy tlie means of grace, and have an opportunity to secure the sal>' 
vation of their souls. A Saviour is provitled, an atonement ift 
offered them, pardon and peace are pnx^laimcd in their ears, th* 
Father invites, the Saviour entreats, the Holy Spirit strives. Etei^ 
iial life is brought within their reach, and urged upon them. Tb* 
welfare of their immortal souls is put into their own hands, and, 
they may secure it, if they will. Are these no privileges P Ai» 
they not, in themselves, a great good, and capable of being im- 
proved by them to their own unspeakable advantage ? In this way, 
therefore. God shows his reprd for their happiness ; and manifest* 
the strongest solicitude for tlieic welfure. And if thev periiih, af- 
ter all this, they will be without excuse, and their blood will bs 
upon their own heads. 

Thus, tlien, Aspasio, I have pointed out "Jbr what end" God 
gave his Son to die for those " whum he had no intention of saving.** 
It was to glorify himself, and to manifest his regard for their hap- 
piness. It was to nut them into a slate in which they might m 
saved, if they woulu, and to make it depend entirely upon their 
own choice whether they were saved or not ; that thus, in throwine 
away their souls, they might be rendered doubly inexcusable, and 
their blood might be upoa their own heads. Till, therefore, you 
can show, that these things are of no importance, you ought not to 
conclude that Christ died for the elect only, because he could have 
" no important purpote" in dying for others. 



t 



could have ^M 



DIALOOrE Vl. 

P. What is your third argument to prove that Christ died for 
the elect only P 

^, Mj third argument is this : ** The death of Christ was a rad 
atoDement, a ransem price» an expiation^ and a propitiation for sin ; 
a full satisfaction to law and justice ; and must therefore be effica- 
cious in behalf of those for wnom he died. If he died for all, dies 
all must be saved. Consequently, if only a part of the human race 
shall certainly be saved, Christ died only for that part'' 

Pn This amiment depends entirely upon the nature of the 
atonement. From your views of its nature, you conclude that it was 
made for the elect only. My views of its nature are probably dif- 
ferent from vour's. From my views of the nature of the atone- 
ment, I conclude that it was made for all men. Will you state 
your views of its nature ? 

j3. I will. *' The word atonement, though often used in the Ola 
Testament, is not found in the New Testament, except in one in- 
stance, Rom. V. 11, where it ought to have been reconciliation. In 
the view, however, of our translators, there was but little difference 
between these two words, for he whose sins are atoned, is recon- 
ciled. Of such an atonement, as leaves the person for whom it 
was made, forever under the guilt of his sins, they had no idea." 
''The Hebrew word for atonement signifies to cover: and when 
sins in the Old Testament are spoken of as atoned, the meaning 
always is, that they were covered^ removed, never to be charged up- 
on the person who committed them." " When, in common lan- 
guage a man is said to have atoned for his fault b^ any means, what 
3o we mean by the word ? Why, that the punishment which he 
had incurred, is actually removed, or ought to be removed." 

** Another word used in the New Testament is j^ropitiation.*^ "A 
propitiation is that which propitiates, which expiates, which pro- 
cures exemption from punishment, which renders iavoundble the per- 
son to whom it is offered." 

** Another set of words, by which tlie death of Christ is fre- 
quently expressed, signify the price paid for the redemption of cap- 
tives.'^ "The life of Christ is called the ransom:' "Now this 
ransom being paid and accepted, was considered a sufficient price 
to obtain the liberation of ail those for whom it was offered. When 
a sufficient price is paid for tlie redemption of a captive;, he cannot 
with propriety be oetained in slavery." " Those, then, for whom 
Christ has paid a ransom, will surely be actually redeemed." 

" Another word which has formerly been in more consUnt use 
with orthodox Christians than any other, is eatisfaciioruy "Justice 
is considered as offended, and insists upon the condign punish- 
ment of the sinner. A surety offers to make satisfaction for the 
offence, by obeying the law, and suffering its penalty. Tlie oflfer \a 
accepted. The satisfaction is made, and acknowledged to be ^^f^. 
cient. Now, the question is, can they for whom this satisf^^.^ 
has been made, be punished for the same sins, lot N^YvvOt^ Vx^Mv^-^ 



16 

declared to be satisfied ? How caa the same crimes be pani 
twice over in a just goveromenl f" 

P. If I understand yonr argument, it \i this: The eatisfactitM 
which Christ has inaile, cungisted partly of his obedience, and 
partly of his sufTennge, and is of such a nature, that those for 
whom it was made, cannot be justly punished. And. therefore, ril 
those must be saved, fur whom it was made. Do 1 understanj 
you i* \ 

•A, You do. For, "how can the same crimes be punished twio) 
over, in a just government f But, will yuu give me your vieiq 
of the nature of the atonement, that 1 may see how you avoid ths 
same conclusion ? 

P. I will. But let us first inriuire fur what purpose an atoit** 
nent was necessary. If we can get clear ideas of the purpose far 
which an atonement was necessary, it will help us to judge of iti 
nature. If we can find out what end tlie atonement was intendet> 
to answer, we can better understand the nature of the atonemeDt< 
which infinite wisdom contrived to answer that end. 

A. Very well. Proceed. « 

P. First, tlien, I ask, whether an atonement was necessary to n 
store man his moral agency? Some think, thai, by the fall, nnl 
had lost his moral agency, and that an atonement was necessary ll 
be made, that it might be restored. I think it could not be necew- 
ury for any such purpose, because man had not lost his i 
Iffency by the fall. A moral agent is one that performs moral a 
tions. Moral actions are those which have moral Qualities, that H 
are either holy or sinful. If man, by the fall, had lost his mon 
agency, he had become incapable of moral action, that. is, he bai 
become incapable of doing any thing either holy or sinful. But, % 
suppose that man, by the fall, had become incapable of sinning, i. 
absurd. An atonement, therefore, was not necessary to restore ta 
man his moral agency, for he had not lost it. 

S. t ask, whether an alunement was necessary to be n 
der to excite the compassion of Godf This, 1 think, no one will 
affirm ; though some tilings which yoii said respecting prnpiliatiorit 
seem to look like it. You said, " A propitiation is that which pr^^ 
jntiaies, which rentiers favourable the person to whom it is offeredJ* 
If you mean that a propitiation Is that which renders it consistent 
for the person to whom it is ottered, to show favour, I have no ob- 
jection to the idea. But if you mean that a propitiation is that 
which renders the person to whom it is offered disposed lo ahow fa- 
vour; if you mean, it is intended to move him to sliuw favour, 
when, without it, he would have no such inclinatinn, it cannot be 
correct, as applied to God. He is compassionate in his very nature. 
•' God is love." He who feels no compassion for the miserable, cao- 
not be a good being. To say that an atonement was necessary in 
order tiv move God to compassion, and dispose him to show mercy, 
represenU him as a being destitute of goodness. It represente 
hiro as a hard, unfeeling, and cruel tyrant. Instead of represent* 
'a being of boundless mercy and goodness, everj- 4 



r " _ 



•,;'av U'ortliv to bo Icjvcd, it r«M)ro>ont'^ him a^ a ino^t ndionr; and iiu- 
plac.iljle l)fiiii;, ^^l^)m cvim v ontr <>uu.lit to lialr. And tinii.cr, to -ay 
tliat an atonement was necessary to excite the compassion ol Cioil, 
would be the same as to say, that the plan of saving sinners did 
not originate with him. He had no disposition to "iave them ; he 
felt no compassion for them ; he was hard, and unfeeling, and im- 
placable, till the Lord Jesus, who was a more benevolent being, and 
pitied their miserable condition, undertook for them, and by his 
sufferings and death, moved the Fatlier to compassion. But such 
a representation would be very different from that given in the 
Scriptures. The Scriptures say, '* God so loved the world, that he 
gave his only begotten Son/' It was his compassion for sinners, 
which moved him to provide a Saviour. It was not necessarjt 
therefore, that an atonement should be made to move him to com- 
passion. 

3. I ask, whether an atonement was necessary, to pay God for 
favours to be bestowed upon us ? Such an opinion, 1 tnink, cannot 
be consistent with the representations of Scripture. The Scrip- 
tures every where speak of the favours we receive from God, as 
^^ce alone. Grace is favour bestowed upon the ill -deserving. 
The favours we receive from God, are not only grace to US| who do 
not deserve them, but it is grace in God to bestow them ; and the be- 
stowment of them is spoken of, as a manifestation of the " riches 
of his grace.'* Where any good bestowed is paid for, there is no 
room for grace in the bestower. It is frequently thought that 
Christ obeyed in the room of sinners ; and that his obedience 
created a claim upon God for the blessings he bestows. And that, 
as this obedience was rendered by Christ iVi the room of sinners, 
the merit of it is transferred to them, and they consequently have 
a just claim to those good things for which it paid. This seems 
to me to bear too close a resemblance to the old popish notion, up- 
on which the sale of indulgences was founded ; which was, that 
Christ had, by his obedience, created a large fund of merit, which 
was put at the disposal of the pope, as nis representative, and 
might by him be sold out to those that had need. But the bles8ing;8 
God bestows upon men are entirely of grace, and of course, they 
were not paid for, by any thing which Christ did.- And conse* 
qnently, an atonement was not necessary to pay God for favours to 
be bestowed upon us. 



DIALOGUE VII. 
A. You were inquiring why an atonement was necessary. Have 

you any further innuiri^a 4n mfllrA ? 



iirther inquiries to make ? 

\. I ask, fourthly, whether an atonement was necessary to 

2 commutative justice ? You speak of the atonement as i 
ction to justice. So do I. But what kind of justice, r .j« 
are three kinds of justice, differing from each oW\w ?l% ^^ ^ 



r 



IS 



relation to difTereot things. These are, commntiitive justice, < 
relates to commercial Iransactions ; distributive justice, which n 
late§ to moral character; and public justice, which relates 1 
public good. Was an atonement necessary to satisfy conimut 
justice r It is plain that it was not. For atonement " has rel 
to sins committed. " There is nothing here of a commercia 
ture. I know that some represent the atonement as a parin 
of a debt. They represent trie sinner as owing a debt to God. i 
being shut up in prison because he has nothing to pay. Thev t 
present Christ as taking upon himself the payment of that det 
and thus purchasing his release. If this nere literally trul, I grar 
that the atonement would be necessarily limited ; fur all the 
must be discharged whose debt is paid. And not only so, but ji 
ticc would demand their discharge. The creditor could not m 
them any longer, without the greatest injustice and oppretisiiM 
There could be no grace in their discharge ; for where a debt 
paid, there is no grace in releasing the debtor. You will say, p 
naps, that the grace of the Gospel consists in the ^ift of a Savi 
and Dot in the sinner's discharge, after his debt is paid. I g 
that it would be grace in the creditor to provide for the debtor till I 
means of payingliis debt ; but in that all the grace of the GospelP ] 
Is there, indeed, no grace in the sinner's diachat^ ? When Cftris%J 
tiana go to a throne of grace in prayer, do they go to demand ll "" 
right i' Do they go to cfaim justice at the hands of God : Do tl 
not go, rather, to sue for favour, as suppliants ? Do they not go ti 
ask for giace ? And do not the Scriptures uniformly speak of t)H 
dinner's discharge as an act of grace r Do they nut say, " We a 
justified freely by his ^race,^' " We have the forgiveneta of s 
according to tne riches of his grace," It is evident, then, that ■: 
atonement was not necessary to satisfy commutative justice. 

I acknowledge that some of " the words by which the death tifM 
Christ is fretiuently expressed, signify the price paid for there** 
demption of captives, and that the life of Christ is called a r(l»*J 
soni. But this language is evidently fi<rurative. The blood ofll 
Christ was not gold, nor silver, nor any other commercial mediunvl 
To lake figurative language, and draw conclusions from it, as if Hm 
were literal, will certainly lead us into mistakes. If this languag* A 
were to be understood literally, it would indeed follow, as you sajj ^ 
that, " When a sufficient price is paid for the redemption of a cap- 
live, he cannot with propriety be detained in slavery," It would 
indeed follow, that those for whom the ransom price was paid, will 
aurely be actually redeemed. And it would likewise follow, th&t 
they are actually redeemed, from eternity, and are not under con- 
demnation at all : since, from the moment Christ undertook to pay 
tlieir debt, it was considered as virtually paid. He is considered 
as the " Lamb slain from the foundation of the world." At any 
rate,aftert]ieir ransom was actually paid, by hia death, "they could 
not with propriety be detained in slavery." But the Scriptures re- 
orescnt all who are not actually in Christ by faith, as under con- 

wation. "He that believeth aot is condemned already, and ths J 



present all who are not actualr 



19 

wrath of God abxdeth on him." But all such literal conclusions* 
drawn from figurative language as if it were literal, are drawu 
without any foundation, and are a most unwarrantable perversion 
of the word of God. The atonement, therefore, was not a commer- 
cial transaction, and it was not necessary that an atonement should 
be made to satisfy commutative justice. 

5. I ask, whether an atonement was necessary to take away our 
ill desert? This, I think, cannot be said, with propriety, although 
tome things which you have said seem to imply it. Speaking of 
the translators of the Bible, you say, ^< Of such an atonement as 
leaves the person for whom it was made forever under the guilt ot 
his sins, they had no idea." Guilt means ill desert. He who has 
committed a crime is s^uilly. And after he is pardoned, he is still 
guilty ; for it is still true that he has done wrong, and nothing can 
render it untrue. If he has been pardoned, it is still true timt he, 
has done wrong ; and as long as it remains true that he has done 
wrons, so lon^ it will remain true that he is guilty, and deserves 
punishment, llis pardon exempts him from suficring the punish- 
ment he deserves, but does not take away his ill desert The sin- 
ner has broken the law of God, and therefore is guilty ; and the 
fact that Christ has died to procure his pardon, cannot alter tlie fact 
that he has transgressed, and therefore cannot alter the truth that 
he deserves to be punished. And if he is penitent, he feelsguiltj; 
he feels that he deserves the displeasure of God. And iihe is 
assured that God has forgiven him, that assurance does not diminish 
his sense of his own un worthiness and ill desert, but rather serves 
to increase it The real penitent loathes and abhors himself, as 
much after he is forgiven, as he does before. He feels just as guilty* 
after all apprehension of punishment is removed, a^ he does before. 
The greatest saint in Heaven must still feel disposed to abase him- 
self before God, for the sins he committed wnile on earth; and 
will have the sense of his ill desert continually increasing, as long 
as he continues, in the light of eternity, to see more and more of 
the evil and odious nature of sin. An atonement, therefore, was 
not necessary to take away our ill desert No atonement could 
take it awaj^. And nu real penitent can ever feel disposed to pal- 
liate or diminish his ill desert, or to wish others to think it less tnan 
it really is. He feels that he is a monument of grace, and is will- 
ing that others should think so too. 

6. I ask, whether an atonement was necessary to satisfy distri- 
butive justice. Distributive justice has relation to moral charac- 
ter. It demands that every person should be treated according to 
his moral character. It demands that the guilty should be punish- 
ed, and the innocent set free. The demands of distributive justice, 
are the same as the demands of the moral law. The moral law re- 

r'res perfect obedience, upon pain of eternal death. It requires 
t those who have dis'.ibcyed should be punished. Do you think 
that the atonement satisfied distributive justice P 

•^. Yes. 1 think that the atonement " was a full satisfaction to 
law and justice." "Justice is considered a» off<^&t^4k)%iA\\v^v&\% 



~n the condisn punishment of the sinner. A surely ofTen f* 

satisfactinn fur tlie offence, by obeying the law and suffering its pe- 
nally. The ofler is accepted. The satiaFaction is made nnd ac- 
knowlodged to be sufficieut.'' This is tlie atonement. 

P. But the law demands, that the soul that sinneth should die* 
How can the death of another answer that demand ; 

J. By the IranKffT of the sinner's guilt to the person of the 
surety. " It deserves to be noticed that in the sacrifices whiclt, 
were typical of the great atonement, the idea of the tranifer of tbttj 
sinner's guilt to the expiatory animal ia carefully kept up." 

P. The law demands that the »oul thai iinneth sliovld die. It 
does not demand that another should die in his place. The law 
says nothing of the substitution of another, in the place of the of- 
fender. No such substitution, tlierefore, can answer the demiuda 
Of the law. 

^. But if the sins of an offender can be transfcricd to (he saretf, 
BO as to become truly and properly his own, then by his death t)w 
demands of the law can be answered, and distributive justice 
satif^lied. 

P. If the »\m of the offender ran be transferred to the surety, so at 
to became truly and properly his own — but that cannot be done,— - 
What 1 haVD done, is my own act, and cannot, by any process, be* 
come Uie act of another. 

Ji. But if another person, of his own accord, offers to bear tht 
punishment of your offences, may lie not do it? 

P. If another person, of his own accord, offers to bear tlie mf-, 
Bering, which was due to me for mv oSiences, he may do it. But it, 
cannot be jiunishmenl to him. Punishment supposes guilt. H«, 
cannot take my actions upon himself, so that they shall become < 
his own actions, and cease to be mine. He cannot become guilty, 
williout his own personal transgression. If he suffers in my pltc%., 
therefore, his suflei-in^s are not punishment to him. 

I have other objections, however, tu the notion of a transfer of 
our sins to Christ. 

1. If our sins are so transferred to Christ, as to become his sinq^ 
they are no longer ours. We.are spotless and holy, in our own nei> 
sons, as God himself. And how inconsistent this is, with the feel- 
ings of all real Christians, and with the representations of Hcrip-, 
ture respecting them, I need not take time to show. , 

3. If our sins are so transferred to Christ as to become his sins,^ 
we have no n Jed of repentance, for we have no sins of which to re-, 
pent. Ii is perfectly idle to talk of our repenting of sio^ which are , 
not our own. 

3. If our sins are so transferred to Christ, as to become tus slna, 
we cannot be the subjects of grace. Grace is favour shown to the^ 
guilty. If our guilt is transferred to Christ, we have none leftl 
and it is as improper to talk of our being treated with grace, as tt, 
would be to say it of the holv angels who never sinned. 

4. rr our sins are so ti-ansferred to Christ, as to become his sins, 
; have none left, we cannot receive pardon at tlie bands of 



JpBrf we: hare none left, we cann 



21 

God. There is no pardon where there is no guilt Pardon ezempte 
a criminal from the punishment he deserves. There is no paroon 
in excusing an innocent person from suffering. He does not oeserve 
to suffer. But the scripture says, ** We lutve the forgiveness of 
sins, according to the riches of his grace." 

5. If our sins are so transferred to Christ, as to become his sins, 
then he suffered justly, as an evil doer, and one that deserved not 
only to die on the cross, but also Reserved eternal damnation, at 
the greatest sinner in the universe. But the scripture sayi be died, 
** the just for the unjust" 



DIALOGUE VIII. 

jI. If the demands of the law are not answered by the death of 
-Christ if distributive justice is not satisfied, then, when sinners 
are exempted from punishment why is not the law dishonoured, 
and injustice done; and that too, by the authority of God himself? 
But the scripture teaches, that Chnst magnified the law and made 
it honourable ; and it speaks of the death of Christ as taking place, 
that Qod might be /im/, and the justifier of him that believeth in 
Jesus. 

P. The reason whjr the law is not dishonoured, when sinners are 
exempted from suffering the punishment it demands, is, that Christ 
has magnified the law and made it honourable, and it is for his 
sake thai they are exempted from punishment The reason why 
no injustice is done, when sinners are exempted from suffering the 
punisnment which distributive justice demands, I will give, after I 
shall have given my view of uie nature of the atonement And 
before I do that I will ask once more, why an atonement was ne« 
cessary ? 

w9. 1 have given the reason. The scripture says, it was, ** Ihat 
God might be just and the justifier of him that believeth in 
Jesus." 

P. Very well. But just to whom ? Just to the sinner P No ; for, if 
he treats the sinner accortling to justice, he will punish him for- 
ever. It is, that God might be just to himself, just to his own 
character, as the righteous Governor of the universe, just to the 
great interests of the universe, which it belongs to him, as the Su- 
preme Ruler, to promote. 

•^. How could the atonement accomplish that end, without satis- 
fying distributive justice ? 

F. By satisfying public justice. Public justice has relation to 
the great interests of the universe, and demands that they should 
be secured. It demands that the greatest good of the universe 
should be promoted, that the greatest possible sum of happiness 
mmong intelligent bein^, should be brought into existence. The 

greatest good of the universe comprises uie glory of Q«A« vgA^^ 
appiness of all bolj creatures. The glory o( Viod Iotgea^V} ^v 




hich 

. I.JS ^ 



I 



the greatest part. To glorify God, is to display his perfectloiw, in 
let the universe see what God is. That all God's perfections should 
be seen to the best advantage, a system must be contrived which 
vould give opportunity for the exercise of them all. That 
mercy might be seen, it was necessary that there should be sinni 
and tnat sinners should be pardonedi and raised to a throne of g 
ry in heaven. But how could this be doner How could the sini 
bie forgiven, and be raised to a throne of glory in heaven? The la* 
had threatened etenial death as the just demerit of sin. By giving 
a law, with this penalty annexed, God had declared tliat he was in- 
finitely opposed to sin, and hated it with all his heart. The object 
of the penalty annexed to the law, was to show the evil nature of 
ind how the Lawgiver felt towards it. For God to eseinpt the 
sinner from punishmenti without an atonement, and to exalt him 
at his own right hand, would be to say, in the strongest language, 
that sin was not an evil, but a good, and that he did not abhor it, 
but regarded it with approbation, and was disposed to confer upon 
it the bighest rewards. And for God to do any thing which could 
be sn construed, would be infinitely dishonourable to himself, and 
nbversive of the highest interests of the universe. It would be a 
violation of public justice Unless, therefore, something could be 
iflone to prevent these conaefluences, we must conclude that sin 
«Duld never be forgiven, and tnat the law mubt take its course, and 
be executed upon transgressors. 

.5. Yes. "If we form hunouroblc ideas of the perfections of 
find, we must suppose that liis treatment of sinners ivill be uni- 
form, and therefore, that all will suffer exactly in proportion to their 
demerit, unless some scheme be devised, by which the inds ofptm- 
isltment cmi be complflely answered, and yet the sinner sparta." 

P. You have brought to view the true reason why an atonement 
was necessary, and what purpose it was intended to answer- The 
atonement was a " schetnt devised" by infinite wisdom, " ly which 
the ends of pimiahmenl can be comphtely answered, and yet the st)i- 
ner spared." The great end of punishment was to manifest God's 
hatred of sin. If any expedient could be found out, which would 
answer tliat end as well as the actual infliction uf the threatened 
penalty upon transgressors, then that penalty could be dispensed 
witli, and mercy might Ik exercised in tlie pardon of sinners. Such 
an expedient infinite wisdom has devised. The Lord Jesus Christ 
has laid down his life, " the Just for the unjust." By his death, the 
evil of sin has been made to appear, in a light infinitely stronger 
than it ever could have appeared in the condemnation of a world. 
By doing this, he has magnified the law and made it honourable, al- 
Ihougli the ctecution of its threatening of death to the sinner is 
dispensed witli. Bv his dealli, public justice is satisfied. The 

t evils which would nave followed from the pardon of the sinner 
iWithout an atonement, are effectually guarded against. And now, 
tGfld can be just, just to himself, just to his own character as the 
^ebfeous Governor of the universe, and yet forgive unoerB for 
'n'st's fake. ^B 



A. And yet I should say that the demands of the law are an- 
swered by what Christ has done. 

P. No. The law did not demand the death of Christ. It de- 
manded the death of the sinner. The death of Christ, therefore^ 
has not met its demand. But by the death of Christ, that has been 
done, which magnifies the law, and renders it consistent with its 
honour, that its demands should be dispensed with, as respects all 
those who will accept of Christ as their Saviour. 

Am But if distributive justice is not satisfied in behalf of sin- 
ners, then, when they are exempted from punishment, why is not 
injustice done r You promised to answer tliis question. 

P. I will answer it. Distributive justice demands that the soul 
that sinneth should die. It demanded that Christ should be honour- 
ed, and the sinner punished. By Christ's dying, while the sinner 
lives, therefore, its demands are not met No injustice is done, 
however. Injustice consists in treating persons worse than tliey 
deserve. No one is treated worse than he deserves. When per- 
sons are treated better than they deserve, that is not injustice, but 
grace. Grace has respect to distributive justice, and suspends its 
exercise towards the zuilty. If you insist that distributive justice 
must be satisfied in all cases, you shut out the possibility oi grace 
altogether. There can be no ^race, unless the guilty are exempted 
from the punishment which distributive justice demands. Pernaps 

Cu will ask, why then was not injustice done to Christ, since 
suffered what he did not deserve. To this, I answer, his suffer- 
ings were perfectly voluntary. He took them upon himself If 
those sufferings had been inflicted upon him, without his consent, 
he would have been treated with injustice. But distributive just 
tice was not exercised in the infliction of those sufierings upon 
him, for he was not a sinner. 

A. How does it follow, from this view of the nature of tlie atone- 
ment, that it was made for all men ? 

P. It was a satisfaction to public justice, by which the ends of 

Sunishment are answered ; and the exercise of mercy, in the par- 
on of sinners, is rendered consistent witli the honour of the taw, 
and the character of God as a righteous governor. In consequence 
of it, God can be "just, and the justifier of him that believeth in 
Jesus." It is, from its very nature/ as sufficient for one man as for 
another, and for all men as for one man. And as all men receive 
Boitfe benefits from this atonement, according to your own cunccs- 
sions, for you say, that " in consequence of the mediation of Christ, 
men are placed here in a condition of comfort, or at least, in a 
mixed state, where many blessings and privileges are enjoyed ;" 
and as this atonement lays a foundation for the offer of mercy to 
be sincerely made to all indiscriminately, as you also grant, I see 
not how you can possibly avoid the conclusion, which I draw from 
it, that it was actually made for all men." 

A. But the atonement was a covtr for sin. " The Hebrew word 
for atonement signifies to corf r." When, therefore, sins are *^Vk\5l 



F 



M 



I 



«f as atoned, the meaning h, that ^ey were etmerttt, rmtovtd, nn 
to be cliarf;eU upon the person wlio coinmitted them." 

P. Do yiiu believe that the elect are under condeai nation till tl 
moment tliey believe in Christ P 

•3- Yes. The scripture says, " He that betieveth not is condem 
«d already, and the wrath of God abideth on him." 

P. The atonement was raade eighteen hundred years ago, t 
those of the elect who have not yet believed, are still under col 
demnation. But their sins were atoned for, as soon as Christ h 
laid down his life. According to you, therefore, their sins were a 
tually " covered, removed, never to be charged upon" them ; 
yet tney are nnt covered, nor removed, but are chained upon tl 
and for them they are condemned already, and the wrath of C 
abideth on tliem. This looks very much like a contratlicdoo. 

^. How then do yuu consider the atonement a cover for sin P 

P. There is a difference between a cover for and a c 
That is a cover/or, which is prepared and adapted to be a cover ^ 
The atonement is a cover for sin, because it is adapted ta b 
cover of sin ; but it does not become a cover of sin, to any indifi 
dual, till he puts it on, that is, till he actually believes in Chrir' 
■od receives tiis pardon. 

v2. But atonement means the same as reconciliation, 
whose sins are atoned is reconciled." 

P. Reconciled, and yet under condem nation ! Reconciled, a: 
yet in his sins ! Reconciled to God. and yet hating him with a 
his he^rt ! No ; it is impossible ! The apnstle prays sinners 1 
be reconciled to God. He does not pray them to make atonemefll 
Sinners never make atonement ; that was the work of Christ. ^ 
ners become reconciled, by accepting the atonement which Chril 
has made. Atonement and reconciliation are therefore very di8 
rent things. 

-.9. But "the end actually accomplished by the death of Chrti 
must be learned from the sacred scriptures, and not from the t' 
ries of man." Men may theorize very speciously ; " But this 

Kint of too much magnitude to be decided by mere reasor 
it us hear what God hath spoken : ' To the law and the testim 
ny,' we make an appeal, and by them we are willing it e 
decided." 

P. I cordially agree with you in this, and beg you will bear il 
mind, when we come, by and by, to see " what God hath spc ' 
as to the extent of the atonement. For the present, 1 wish n 
to consider your arguments. 



DIALOGUE IX. 

P. What is your fourth argument to prove that Christ died fi 
4ie elect only i 
L ^. It is this : " Christ oSfeied Um^eU a. ^<:.tlfi.ce to s&tisfy di« 



25 

ttne jostice in the office of a prieat,'* Now, " his priestly office 
ia not performed fur any by the halves." Therefore, '• for whom 
Christ offered himself a sacrifice, for the same does he intercede, 
Sut he intercedes, it is agreed, for none hut his own people ; there' 
fcre, he died for none but hia own people-" 

P. I grant that Christ is the priest of hia people, and that he 
does not perform his priestly office for any " by tlie halves." But 
to conclude from tliis, that he will intercette for the salvation ut all 
Ihmte fur whom he died, is t6 take it for granted that he could not 
possibly die for any but his own people. If is to take it for erant- 
Cd. (Imt he could not have any ol^ect in dying for any, unless he 
intended to save them. To assume this, is to assume the very 
point of dispute. To assume the point in dispute, is what loE^iciana 
call bt^s^n^ the r/uestion. If ia usually considered an indication 
' tf a weak cause, and that the supporter of it feels it to t>o so. 

A Do you grant, then, that Christ intercedes for none but hts 
own people ? 

P. No. I grant that he does not intercede for the salvation of 
taybut hia own people ; for he did not intend to save any others. 
But he intended to secure the enjoyment of " many bleas'mgs and 

EWileges*' to the non-elect, aa you grant. Now, if he intended by 
I death to obtain for the non-elect these blessings, 1 see not why 
it should be thought incredible that he should ask the Father to be- 
ttow them. He intended by his death, to procure forthe non-elect 
ft period of probation and the offer of mercy : and I aee not why it 
thould be thought incredible, that after having died to procure for 
them these blessinga, he should ask the Father to bestow them, 
' ,/i. But does not Christ say, ennressly, ■' 1 pray for them : I pray 
■■ttot for the world, but for them which thou hast given mer" 
'■ P. Id that particular prayer, he prayed for his disciples, and for 
none others. And he prayecf for sucfi blessings for them as are never 
Ikestowed upon any but his disciples. But ttiia does not prove that 
when God bestowa other blessings upon other men, he does not do 
it in answer to the requests of his Son. You beg the question, 
therefore, in both points of your argument And besides that, you 
eontradict what you had before eranted, that " many blessings and 
privileges" arc beatowed upon me non-elect, " in consequence of 
fte mediation of Christ." Mediation includes ijitercession, as well 
as atonement. According to your own concession, therefore, he 
does, In some respects, intercede for the non-elect. What is your 
fifth argument f 

A. It is this: "The death of Christ is the cause of alt spiritaal 

I Uessings; it is therefore the cause of the gift of faith. Those, 

|*1herefore, for whom Christ died, will be made partakers of faith. 

But none receive the gift of faith but the elect; therefore Cfariat 

died for none else." 

P. Thia argument is a mere sophinm. It has all the formality 

ftf a'regular syllogism, but nothing more. I will ^\a ^oihib.*ii^ 

two like it, J. God is (fie giver of all c«oA tivViv^^; W » \>\«ft- 

^re tke giver of faith. Bui he gives fmtUlo noRe WV AS« *Jv*t.v 

' D 



mi 



Uierei'ura he gives mt »uod tilings tii any bol the elect. 3. The 
combin^il influence of Uie rain anil the sun Is tlie cauae of vegeta- 
tion. But tliere is no vegetation npnii the barren rock ; thererorp, 
the rain never tlescen<Is, and the sun never shines upon the barren 
rock. But these concIUHiona are evidently l"al§e, ami so ia the one 
you draw, Td make your arEmment correct, it ought to be this^ 
The death of Christ secures the enjoyment of all apiritaal bless- 
ings ti) those Tor whom he diei); it therefore secures to them the 
gift of faith. But faith is given to none but the elect ; therefore 
Christ died for none else. This would be a correct syllogism, and 
the conclusion would follow, if it were true, that the death of 
Christ does actually secure the enjoyment of all spiritual blessings, 
to all those for whom he died. To assume that it does, is to a&- 
Bume the very point in dispute. It is bej^ng the question agai£J 
This argument, however, is good on the otlier side, and proves ti" 
Christ died fur all men. 

^. How so ? 

P. Thus: the death of Christ is the cause oi all the blessiq 
bestowed upon sinful men. No blessings can be bestowed iim 
sinners without an atonement. Therefore, no blessings can be tj 
stowed upon any of our sinful race lor whom Christ did not i 
But many blessings are bestowed upon all men ; Ihcrefoi'et Chli 
died for all men. What is your sixth argument? 

A It is this: " If Christ actually diedfor all men. then he d 
for many whose salvation had become impossible, and to whom tl . 
offer of mercy never could be made y* for they were alreadjJl 
hell. Did he die for those already in hell ? 

P. " If Christ actually died for all" the elect, " then he died t 
many whose salvation" was already accomptifthed, " and to wh»H 
the offer of mercy never could bu made ;" for they were already 9 
heaven. Did he ille for those already in heaven ? ■-, 

•4. Vc9. For ihuse already in heaven, had gone there by futh jij) 
the Saviour that was to come. «*■ 

P. And those already in hell. Iind gone there for want of faitft'll 
in the Saviour that was to como. I'lie Irutii is, the Saviour was r^ 
vealed immediately after (he fall, and men were saved by faith i| 
him, or condemned for their unbelief, juat as th^ are now. 

j1. But, " of what avail is it to the sonI in torment, that Chrii_ 
is dying fur him on earth, seeing his misery is not the least milii 

ted thereby t" ^1 

P. That is, what good could it do him ? This, again, is tssumlHM 

At Christ could not have any object in dying for any, unlesS'haj^ 
[tended tu save them. It is beKsin"; the (jutstiun again. ij. 

Ji. Hut. "if Christ died fur all. then justice was, at the same 
ninnient, exaUing puuishmenl from the utfender himself, and from 
llie Redeemer." And "how can the same crimes be puniriied 

ice over in a juat govemnieoi r" 

?< They runiiol be punished twice over. Chriiit was not puniat 

\tmH. Ami the satisfaction he made, was not a eatisfaction t| 
mc tQ distributive justice. U W\ti"«4 huwi youvjj 




)']o^, an«l ii(»t from inino. t'l'it tin* l;iv. i-, -ati'tii'd [wtrv omt. c- 
railiLT, a^ I should iMiik, llui'c lliiK'-* on or. 

•^. How so r 

P, You believe tliat Christ obeyed the law for his people, do you 
not? 

A Yes. He made satisfaction " by obeying the law," as well as 
<«bv Buffering its penalty." 

P, Was not Christ's obedience perfect? 

J3. Yes. The scripture says, lie was ''holy, harmless, unde- 
filed, separate from sinners." 

P. Does not perfect obedience satisfy the law ? 

w9. Yes. Where there is perfect obedience, the law has no fur- 
ther demand. 

F, If Christ obeyed the law perfectly, and did that for his peo- 
ple, that was satisfying tlie law once. Thou, if he suffered the 
penalty of the law, and bore the punishments of tlieir sins, that 
was satisfying the law twice. And after that, they are forj^ivcn ; 
that is, after ttie demands of the law have been satistied twice over, 
they are dispensed with by forgiveness ; which is equal to satisfy- 
ing it the third time. 

•4. But, " if Christ died for all men, then he atoned for sins 
which are never pardoned. But what sort of an atonement is tliat 
for a sin, which does not render it possible for the punishment of 
it to be removed ? The sin against the Holy Ghost, and final im- 
penitence and unbelief, never can be pardoned, and to suppose 
them atoned for, is absurd." 

P. On the same principle, I should say, while the elect are with- 
out repentance their sin cannot be pardiuied. But to suppose a 
sin atonetl for, which cannot be pardoned, is absurd. Therefore, to 
suppose the sin of the elect atoned for, while they are \uthout re- 
pentance, is absurd. The truth is, that the reason why the sin 
against the Holy Ghost, and final impenitence and unbelief are not 
pardoned, is because they are not repented of, not because the 
atonement is not ^s sufficient for them as for any otlier sins. What 
is your seventh argument ? 

i^. It 18 this: '* the death of Christ is of no avail to those who 
have never heard of this event; for how can they believe in him of 
whom they have not heard r" Now, if Christ died for all men, 
would he permit so many millions of them to remain in total igno- 
rance of an event in which they are so deeply interested r" 

Pm That is, again, what good could it do tiiem P This is assuming 
that Christ could not die for any, unless he intended to save them, 
which is begging the question again. And you have answered this 
argument yourself as often as jou have conceded, that " in conse- 
fiuence of the mediation of Christ," all men do enjoy " many.bloss- 
iDga and privileges." But if you still ask, why God does not ac- 
tually send the gospel to all men, I will answer it when you have 
answered a few questions like these : Why does he not actually 
save all men? Wny does he not, at least, save all those who ecv^^^ 
the light of the gospel r Why does he not pVace ;v\\ W\^ A^^V\w^^ 



same tavourable circumstances for knowing aiul sen inn; him: 
Why does he not crt^ate them all with the saine natural powers of 
body and mind, and give them all the same opportunities for im- 
provement, that they may all be prepared for the same degree ot 
happiness in heaven ? Why does lie convert one in the morning of 
life, and another not till the close of it? Why does he favour one 
with the clearest knowled^ of divine truth, and leave another to 
embrace many errors, which greatly retard his growth in jgracet 
and consequently lessen his religious enjoyment and usefulnesa? 
If Christ loved them well enough to die for them, and save them, 
why did he not love them enough to make them as wise and aa holy 
as Gabriel ? 



DIALOGUE X. 

1\ What is your eighth argument, to prove that Christ died for 
the elect only r 

.^. It is this: " It is derogatory to the honour of the Redeemer, 
that so threat a portion of those for whom he died, should ultimately 
perish, it is an unworthy thought of the Almighty Saviour, that hie 
should permit Saran to triumph over millions of those whom he 
purchased with his own blood." 

P. This argument begs the question again: it aupposes that 
Christ did not die for any but those he intended to save. It would, 
indeed, be " derogatory to the honour of the Redeemer," that a 
great portion of tliose whom he intended to save ** should ulti- 
mately perish." It would, indeed, be " an unworthy thought of the 
Almighty Saviour, that he should permit Satan to triumph over 
million> (>f those whom he" intended to save. But that is not the 
case. He saye!<» all he intended to save. And he accomplishes the 
objects he had in view in dyin(>; for others. What these objects are, 
has been already shown. What is your ninth argument? 

.'7. It is tl.is: "This doctrine of the c;eneral atonement takes 
away from the true believer one of the most interesting and edify* 
in;^ views of this event which can be presented to him. When he 
contemplates the death of Christ, he beholds the most striking and 
itttccting manifestation of the special love of God to him: but if 
the atonement is as much for reprobates as for him, how is it an 
evidence of any great and special love." It is no ground of con- 
solation to know that Christ loved me, and gave himself for roe, 
because a reprobate may know the same." 

P. How can it be any satisfaction to me, to enjoy the common 
blessings of Providence, unless I have them all to myself? How 
tan it be any gratification to me, to sit down to a table load 
ed with all the dainties in nature, if other persons are invited a 
well as I? How can it be any consolation to me, (o know that 

- '*<nnsrto heaven, to enjoy the presence of my God and Saviou 
' * ~ i>>iman race are to enjoy them as well as mysel 



S9 

My enjoTinents of them will surely be diminished, in exact pro- 
portion to the number of those who shall with me be partakers of 
them. Are these Christian feelings? Are they asreeabie to the 
common feelings of humanity? wnat is it but fu£ed aeifiahneaaf 
TVhat is your tenth argument? 

•tf. It is this : " The sacred scriptures in many places restrict the 
death of Christ to his people." 

P. Will you favour me with some of these " many places ?" 

Jl. Yes. Christ says, " I lay down my life /or the aheepJ^ Again 
it is said, " The church which he purchased with his own blood.'' 

P. But where is the restriction ? I confess I do not see it. He 
laid down his life '*for the sheepJ^^ Who disputes that ? If it was 
the will of God " tnat he should taste deatn for every man,'*^ he 
must of course have laid down his life for the aheepJ^ 

A. I acknowledge " that these and such like passages, do not in 
so many words, declare that he died for no others, i et they have 
no force or apparent propriety, unless thus understood." 

P* You acknowledge, then, that the passages you mention, do 
not expressly *' restrict the death of Christ to his people." The 
whole force of your argument, then, comes to this: these passages 
do not appear to you to have any force or propriety, unless you un* 
derstand them agreeably to your own scheme. But if we form our 
opinions first, and then interpret the scriptures in such a manner 
as to make them accord with our opinions, I am afraid we shall 
never come to any certainty respecting any of tlie doctrines of the 
bible. 

Ji. Bu^ ''if Christ laid down his life for his sheep^ as such* 
whether yet called or not, then he lays not down his life for the 
soats, or for those who are not of his raid. If he, as shepherd, lays 
down his life, then certainly for none but his sheep." 

P. I feel no difficulty in admitting, that there is a sense, in which 
Christ laid down his life for the sheep, in which he did not for 
others. But I contend, also, that there is a sense in which he laid 
down his life for all alike. As far as his object, in laying down his 
life, was to secure the salvation of tliose for whom he died, he laid 
down his life for the sheep only ; for he never intended to secure 
the salvation of any others. But as far as his object, in laying 
down his life, was to place men in a state of probation, in a state 
in which they might be saved if they would ; in a state in which 
their salvation or their perdition should depend entirely upon their 
own voluntary choice, so far he laid down nis life for all alike. If 
TOtt understand these, and such like passages, in the first sense, I 
nave no objection ; for on that point we have no dispute. But to 
infer from that, that he could have no object in laying down his life 
for others, is to take for granted the very point in dispute. The 
passages you mention are totally silent on that subject ; and there- 
fore are nothing to the purpose. Have you any other argument to * 
prove that Christ died for tne elect only ? 

Ji. Yes. It is inconsistent with the doctrine of particular elec- 
tion, to suppose that Christ died for all meat 

P. How 60 P 



I tS. The doctrine of election is. that God f^ve a certaiB- tuio 



toktoa 



r Talk I 



e ti) the Snn. and the salvaliuii of these he ^xaA^ 



niplish bv tavir 



n his life. Tu suppose, thcrefiin 






undertook 

t^ laying down his life, is inconsiiiteat wiUi the doctriiiG uf eli 
tion. 

P. This is not my \icw of the doctrine of election. Vim put 
doctrine of election in the wrong place, and cimfound the dc 
of election with the covenant of redemption- My view of the 
ject is this : all men sinned— Christ laid down his life for all- 
offer of mercv is authorixed to be made to all — all, with one 
sent, refuse tlie nffer. Here then comes in the purpose of 
God dutcniiined that he would make some willing to accept 
offer. And in pursuance of this determination, he sends his 8pi 
.to make tliem willing; in tlie day of his power. 

Ji. "To this theory 1 ohject. that there is no succession in 
4ivine derrees, bui God wilts all thingis, by one must cumpreh' 
Jive and perfect purpose." 

• P. I grant that there is no succession in the divine decwes, 
the order of time- They have all existed from eteiTtily. ' 
is a succession in the oi-der of nature ; and you youreelf 

le it, as much as I do. ,You suppose that it was determined 

n sliould fall, and need a Saviour; and that in conset^ucnce 
(his, God determined to nruvtde & Saviour for a part of mankin ' 

A "Admitting an order in the divine decrees," the order, 
suppose, "is preposterous; becanse it supposes God to deteniii 
Upon a most important and costly means, before he had purposed 
particular end to be accomplislied by it," 

P. Not at all. The particular end God had in ^iew to accont' 
uliiih was his own glory. As means to accomplish this great end, In- 
finite Wisdom has devised, I nlinite Goodness adopted, and Intinil 
Power is carrying into execution the whole plan of the divine ndi 
nistration. This great plan includes all events. All events, Ihi 
fore, are to be considered as means, which intinile witidum 
contrived, to operate in difterent ways, for the accomplishment __ 
this great end. The fall of man, the death of Christ for all, the 
offer of mercy to all, the rejection of the offer by all, the m«king 
of some willing to accept it, the salvation of those who do accej ' 
it, the i^gravated condemnation and final perdition of those wf 
persist in their refusal — these are all means, and " most inipoi ' 
and coetly means" too, for the accomplishment of that great 
And I see not why the order in which 1 have mentioned them ii 
their natural order. 

V?- But 1 liave another objection: your scheme "furnishes 
sufficient motive to produce such a grand event," as Christ's 
ing for all men. 

P. No sufficient motive ! Is the glory of God no sufficient mo- 
live ? Where will you find one of ereater magnitude ? But the 
ends accomplished by Christ's dying for all men have been already 
ted out, I need not i-e^t them here. Have you utj otlM 
'laeiit to prove that C'hnst died fov \.\»c cVart «o\'3^ •■ 



, In- 

il 

It of 



SI 

•4. 1 have mentioned the principal ; but I will saegest one more, 
the identity of Atotiemeni and Redemption. As they signify the 
same thing, all who are atoned for, are redeemed. But the elect 
only are redeemed ; therefore the atonement was made for none else. 

A Atonement and redemption are not the same thing. Aion^ 
tnent is satisfaction for sin ; redemption is deliverance from sin. 
The atonement was finished when Christ rose from the giead ; but 
the redemption of any individual is not finished, till he is freed 
from sin, by complete sanctification, and received to heaven. 
Christ is said to have "obtained eternal redemption for us;^^ not 
eternal atonement, surely. The apostle exhorts Christians, " Grieve 
not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed uuto the day of 
redemption ;^^ not the day of atonement, for that was past already. 
And when the Son of Man shall be seen coming in the clouds of 
heaven, his people are exhorted, " Then look up and lift up your 
heads: for your redemption draweth nigh;^^ not your atonement 
draweth nigh, for that was accomplished long since. If atonement 
and redemption were the same thing, it would be as improper to 
pray for recieroption as for atonement. To pray for atonement would 
be to pray that Christ might die again. No Christian prays for 
atonement* But Christians may pray for redemption. They may 
pray with the scripture saints, " Draw nigh unto my soul and rc- 
aeemxty ** Redeem me, and be merciful unto me." Atonement 
and redemption, therefore, are diilerent things: and the argument 
which is built upon their identity, is built upon the sand. 



DIALOGUE XI. 

Ji. Will you state your arguments, to prove that Christ died for 
all men ? 

P. Most of them have been brought into view, in the course of 
the preceding discussion ; but [ will briefly repeat them: 

1. All who hear the 8;ospel are invited to partake of its blessings. 
But if Christ has not died for them all, they cannot be sincerely 
invited. The invitation amounts to a declaration that there is sal- 
vation for them, which they may have if they will. If Christ haa 
not died for them ail, tliis declaration is untrue, and the invitation 
a mere mockery. 

2. It is made the duty of all who hear the gospel, to accept of 
Christ as their Saviour. But it cannot be their duty, if Christ has 
not died for them. It cannot be the duty of devils to accept of 
Christ as their Saviour, for he did not die for devils. 

3. Those who refuse to accept of Christ as their Saviour, are con- 
demned and punished for their unbelief. But how can they be 
justly punished for not accepting a Saviour, who was never pro- 
vided tor them. 

4. The atonement was a satisfaction to public justice, designed 
to rentier it consistent for God to show mevcy *, mvAl Kt^tiei \\.% ^^x^ 
nature, must be generaL 



SQ 

5. All men do receive many blessings at the hand of Owit as y 
JftYe Kranled. And " this orcurs in consefjoence of the mediatisi 

• 4f Christ," as you have also granted ; for where there ia no atoiu' 
ment, no mercy can he shown. Since many mercies, therefore, u 
actually bestowed upon all men. on account of Christ's death, i 
follows, that Christ died for all. 

6. All^pen are placed here in a state of probation. A state a 
probation for eternity, necessarily supposes, that those who enjuj 
It, have an opportunity to secure their eternal salvation. But thor 
for whom Christ did not die, have no such opportunity. No exd 
tions of tlieirs could ever render it possible for them to be sav ' 

7. The tcatiraonr of scripture is express and full upon this e 
ject. Let me remind you of what you have said youraelf. " T 
IS a point of too much magnitude to be decided by mere reasonini 
Let us hear what lind hath spoken. ' To the law and the tcatimonn| 
we make an apjK'al.*' What, then, do the scriptures say upon f^ 
subject ? _ 

1 John 3. 3. " And he is the propitiation for our sins ', and oWa 
br ours only, but also, for the sins of the whole world." * 

r - Heb. 3. 9. '■ But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower thM 
|#rt angels for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and hoi 
ddt; tfiat he, by the grace of God, should taste death Jor r " 

1 Tim. 2. 6. " Who gave himself a ransom /oi- ail, to be testifit 
in due time." 

3 Cor, 5. 14, 15, " For the love of Christ constraineth us, becaail 
we thus judge, that if one died Jot all, then were all dead. Airf 
that he died /or alt, that they which live, should not henceforth lin 
iinto themsefves, but unto him which died for them, and rose again.V 

John 1. S9. " The next day, John seeth Jesus coming unto hini^ 
and saith, Behold the Lamb "of God, which taketh away the sin of 
the world."'' 

John 3. 1 6, " For God so loved the world, that he gave his only 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not periw, 
but have everlasting life." 

That Christ died for some who actually perish, see 2 Pet 2. 1, 
"But there were false prophets also among the people, even u 
there shall be false teachers among you, who privily snail bring iB 
damnable heresies, even denying tne Lord thai bought them, luA 
briug upon themselves swift deatruction." ■ 

Jl. But you must admit that the words world and all, are somfl-^ 
times used in a limited sense ; and therefore they may be so ueed 
in theiie passages. " The word world is used in the sacred scrip' 
tures for the whole fabric of heaven and earth, sometimes for tn« 
heavens distinguished from the earth, for the men in the world, 
either the whole or a part, sometimes fur (he Roman empire, for God's 
people, for the wicked, and for a worldly condition or state." " It 
— — -ilent," then, " that no great stress should, in this argument, 
d on a word so vague and ambiguous in its meaning." " Th^ 
a// is in the same predicament." M 



r 



S3 

P. I am willing to grant, for the sake of giving your objection all 
possible force, that- these words are used in the various senses jon 
mention. Not, however, that I believe the word world is ever used 
for Gk>d's people as distinguished from otiiers. What, then, is the 
force of your objection ? It is plainly this, that because these words 
are aametimes used in a limited sense, they may be so used in the 
texts I have quoted, and that you are at liberty to put this con- 
struction upon them, if ]^u please. But, where will this ]^rinciple 
lead us i utt us apply it to a few cases. The word Ood is some- 
times^ used to signify a civil ruler ; tiierefore, according to this 
principle of interpretation, it may be so understood in any given 
text ** In the beginning Ood created the heavens and the earth,** 
may mean. In the beeinnine a civil ruler created the heavens and 
the earth. The word everuuling is sometimes used to signify a 
Umiied duration ; therefore, it may be so understood in any given 
text: and, *' These shall go away into ever&w/tng* punishment," mar 
mean, ''These shall go away into a punishment of /tmtVed duration.'' 
And when the sainto are promisea everlasting life it may mean, a 
life of KmUed duration. And when Christ is styled the ^' Mighty 
Crodf the Everlasting Father," it may mean, the mightj civil nder, 
the Father of a limited duration. The word salvation is sometimes 
used to signify deliverance from a temporal calamity ; therefore, 
it may be so understood in any given text, and there may be no 
salvation but deliverance from temporal calamities. The word re- 
surrecHon is sometimes used to signify regeneration ; therefore it 
may be so understood in any given text, and there may be no re- 
surrection foretold in the scriptures but regeneration. The word 
baptism is sometimes used to signify sufferings; therefore, it may 
be so understood in any siven text ; and the command to the apos- 
tles to go and baptize all nations, may mean, that they shoulcl go 
and inflict suft'erings upon all nations. A principle ot interpreta- 
tion which leads into such absurdities, cannot be admitted as a cor- 
rect rule of interpreting the word of God. Under the operation of 
such a rule, the Bible would become, as some pretend it is, a book 
by which any thing can be supported, and nothing proved. Every 
part of it would become " vague and ambiguous in its meaning." 

A. How can we know, then, when to understand these universal 
terms in their limited, and when in their unlimited sense ? 

P. When a universal term is to be understood in a restricted or 
limited sense, that restriction or limitation is made manifest, by the 
manner in which it is used, or by something which accompanies it. 
And this is a general rule for the interpretation of scripture : the 
scripture means as it says ; that is, every word is to be understood 
in its plainest and most obvious sense, unless the manner in which 
it is used, or something which accompanies it, makes it manifesi 
that it is used in that instance, in a different sense. If this is not 
the way in which scripture is to be understood, how shall we ever 
know what the scripture teaches on any subject? And mor^ ^?s^- 
cially, how shall plain, unlearned people know ai\y liitvviv^ tX^ra^.^*^ 
doctrines of the Bible ? The Bible was intewA^A ior «l Retidollw 
It was intended for the use of the ignorant, atkOi fot cVAAx^ii* \\. 



1? 




declared to be eo plain that he that runneth mfij rend, and the 
way-faring nian, though a fool, need nnt err. But if the Holj 
Ghiiat has made a miijlake on this subject, and uee*! words so 
" vaeue and ambiguouB in their roeaning," that no dependance can 
be placed upon tliem, " it fails of being" a Bevelation, " whatever 
BUtj have been intended." 

^. Bui the passage you mentioned in the Epistle to the H«^rews, 
" that he should taste death /or every man," is not translated right 
The original is, "huper pantos, for all. Man is not in the test. And 
tbe question is, to whom this all refers," 

.. P. \ must beg leave to differ from you there. And 1 think such 
an objection comes with a very bad grace, from one who claims that 
|he translators of the Bible were of the same opinion with himself, 
fin tbe subject of the atonement Pantos is an adjective, in the 
inasculine gender, singular number, and must agree with some 
Qoun, understood, of tne same gender and number. The word 
man, therefore, is undoubtedly the woni understood, and was pro- 
perly supplied by our translators. But if you object to the word 
man, 1 am willing to leave it out ; and then the literal rendering of 
mper pantos would be "for entry one ,-" and the most natural and ob- 
yloua meaning would be. that Christ tasted death for every man, 
; iroman and child, of our race. If it had been /or all, the original 
if«uld have been huper ponton, in the plural. But even that wonld 
Itave been no better fur your cause. 

,S, I wish also to make an observation upon the passage from the 
Epistle to Timothy, ■' Who gave himself a ransom for all" •' The 
Thole stress of the argument here is upon the word ail; but our 
b-ethren who oppose us here must qualify the word all, as used in 
tte fourth verse, ' Who will have all men to be saved,' and there- 
fore, they should allow us to do the same in the sixth." 

P. Not at all. We do not " qualify the word all as used in the 
fourth verse." We believe it means ail, in both verses. There is 
no manifest restriction accompanying it, in either case ; and there- 
fore, we protest against any such restriction being put upon it, by 
any human authonty. 

^. Then you must believe that all men will actually be saved ! 

P. By Tio means. We believe that God does, in itself consider- 
ed, Bincerely desire the salvation of all ; because it is, in itself, very 
desirable that all should be saved. But he does not, on the whole, 
all things considered, determine to save all ; because it is not, on 
the whole, best that all should be saved. 

Since, therefore, the scriptures plainly declare, that " God so 

loved the world, that he gave nis only begotten Son," and that " He 

is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only, but also for 

the sins of the whole world," and that Christ " gave himself a ran- 

tom for all,'* " that he, by the grace of Ood, should taste death 

for every mart?^ that he " died for ail," and is " the Lamb of God 

Vbich taketh away the sin of the world," and that some who perish 

^^0i>riag upon themselves swift destruction," by " denying the ^^Ot^^m 

^HftsI boi^ht them ;" jou must aWow me to\w,\\e>i« ^WCIuiat dl^H 

^^K die for tbe elect only, but for &U meu. ^^H 




TWO 



DISCOURSES 



ON 



THE ATONEMENT 



BT MOSES STUART 

▲SSOCIATZ PROF. OF SACRED LITERATURE IN TRE THEOL. SEMINARY IN 

ANDOVER. 



Second odition. 



PUBLISHED BY MARK NEWMAN. 



FUf f k, Goak), printen. 

1838. 



Thg flntedlliiin orilH rollawLnf tlgiimiii 
oftbaSliulinuof ilHiThH>lo|iul Benliurj 



In Iba mmatr of ISM, b; » 



DISCOURSE I. 



Isaiah liii. 5, 6. 

Hz WAS WOUITDED POR OVR TRAIfSGRESSIONS ; HE WAS BRUISED POR OUR 
IHiqUITIES ; THE CHASTISEMENT OF OUR PEACE WAS UPOIT HIM ; AND 
BT BIS STRIPES ARE WE HEALED. ' AlL WE LIKE SHEEP HATE GONE 
astray; we hate turned evert one to his own WAT ; AND THE 
LORD BATH LAID ON HIM THE INIQUITY OF US ALL. 

JL HE sentiment of this passage may perhaps be made 
more perspicuous, by a translation of it somewhat nearer to 
the spirit of the original. 

" He was wounded on account of our transgressions ; he 
was smitten on account of our iniquities ; the chastisement 
by which our peace is procured was laid on him ; and by 
his wounds are we healed. All we like sheep have gone 
astray ; we have wandered each one in the path that he 
chose ; and Jehovah hath laid on him the punishment due to 
us all." 

This passage, no less than the august personage to whom 
it relates, has been to the Jews of ancient and modem times 
a stumbling block, and to many of tlie Gentiles foolishness. 
Very soon after Christians began, when disputing with the 
Jews about Christ crucified, to make their appeal to it, as 
proof that a suffering and atoning Saviour, Jesus of Nazareth, 
was foretold in the Hebrew Scriptures, the Jews set them- 
selves to find out some other person, or class of men, con- 
cerning whom the prophet might be regarded as here speak- 



ing. Some of them have maintained that he bad refer^ice 
to their nation at large ; some that he had respect to Uzziab, 
Hezekiah, or Josiah ; while others suppose that Isaiah, Jere- 
miah, or some one of the prophets, was the subject of bis 
description. Nor have commentators and critics among 
Christians been wanting, who have advocated these opinions 
proposed by the Jews. Of late, the prevailing sentiment 
among a certain class of critics is, that the prophetic order of 
men among the Hebrews, rather than any particular individual 
of it, is referred to by Isaiah. As the prophets, in ancient 
times, were often subjected to sufferings and death, by the 
persecuting spirit which reigned among their cotemporaries ; 
so they are supposed to be represented, in our text and con- 
text, as bearing the sins of tlie nation, and making atonement 
for tliem. 

It is not my present design, to enter into a particular ex- 
amination of these discrepant and very unsatisfactory opin- 
ions. To the Jew I would say. In what other part of the 
Old Testament, are the sufferings of any mere king or pro- 
phet ever represented as expiatory 7 The Mosaic law has 
prescribed expiatory sacrifices ; and has prescribed all that 
were to be offered under the ancient dispensation. What 
part of this law speaks of expiation, by the sufferings and 
death of any mere king or pro[)het ? Or if the Jewish na- 
tion at large be the subject of the prophct^s description, where 
is this nation, when persecuted and suffering, represented as 
an expiatory sacrifice i and for whom did they make expia- 
tion i On the contrary, are they not always represented as 
bearing the punishment due to their own transgressions, and 
not as bearing that due to others i 

To the commentator, bearing the name of Christian, 
and disjwsed to follow these wanderings of unbelief and of- 
fence at the cross of Christ, in which the Jews have so long 



5. 

indulged, I ba?e only one brief remark to make ; which is, 
that evangelists and aposdes have told us, who is the subject 
of the prophet's description in our text and context. When 
the treasurer of the Ethiopian queen had been up to worship 
at Jerusalem, and was returning home, by an express direc- 
tion from the Spirit of God, Philip the evangelist met him. 
As Philip drew near, he heard the Ethiopian reading a por- 
tion of our chapter ; '' He was led as a sheep to the slaugh- 
ter ; and like a lamb dumb before his shearers, so he opened 
not bis mouth. In his humiliation, his judgment was taken 
away ; and who shall declare his generation f for his life is 
taken fiom the earth. And the eunuch said to Philip, of 
whom speaketh the prophet this f Of himself, or of some 
other man f Tlien Philip opened his mouth, and began at 
the same Scripture, and preached unto him Jesus." Acts 
▼III. 36 — 35. 

Peter, also, has applied a part of our chapter to the same 
distinguished sufferer. " Christ suffered for us ... . his own 
self bare our sins in his own body on the tree .... by whose 
stripes we are healed ; for ye were as sheep going astray." 
1 Pet. u. 21 — 2o. The two last phrases are quotations from 
our text itself, and are certainly applied by the apostle direct- 
ly to the Saviour. 

I add only, that Jesus himself cites a part of our chapter, 
as containing a description of his own sufferings. '' I say 
unto you, that what is written must be accomplished in me ; 
And be was reckoned among the transgressors." Luke xxii. 
37, corop. Is. Liii. 12. 

I feel no concern, further to vindicate the application of 
the text to the person of the Messiah. The matter resolves 
itself into the sample question, whether the interpretation of 
evangelists and apostles is to be admitted, and believed to be 
correct ; or whether our own conjecture or philosophy is to 
be the ultimate authority, to which we make our appeal. 



» 



From the language of our text, as applied to Chrisl, 
deduce ihc proposition, that be surFBKEU as odr sobs* 
tute; or, that his suFFEHiNGa and oeath were an bxpl 

TORV OFFEKING, ON ACi;OIINT OF WUICH OUR SINS ABC P*l 
DONED, ANt> WE ARE RESTORED TO THE DIVINE FAVOUR. 

My present object is, lo discuss the doctrine of the aloa 
raeol made by Christ, which this proposition brings lo a 
view ; and in doing ihls, 1 design 

I. To make some explanations necessarj- to a right u 
derstanding of the subject. 

II. To prove ihe doctrine. 

III. To answer some objections alleged against it. ' 
According to the method projxised, 1 am, frit, lo md 

some explanations necessary to a right understanding of o 
subject. 

in order to avoid all misapprehension of the design whi 
1 have in view, let me observe, at the commencement of ll 
discourse, that it is not my present object lo treat of the al 
dience of Christ, considered as having an influence upoo a 
redemption, or in procuring salvaiion for us. I speak of ob 
dience here, in the sense whicli many of the older divin 
mean to express, when they employ the plirase active o\ 
ence of Christ, in order lo distinguish his positive fulfilmt 
of the divine law, from what ihey name his pauivt ol 
ence; by which they mean his humiliation and Bufferings. 
To pursue the iuquiry, In what sense, or to what degree, 
does the active obedience of Christ contribute to 
demplion? would carry me loo far from the specific objl 
which I now have in view. 1 shall therefore dismiss 
topic with simply remarking, that white the sufferings and 
death of Christ are every where represented as the special 
procuring cause of our redemption, yet his obedience is also, 
represented as a concurring cause or ground of our 



2 



The Saviour's entire obedience, or sinless perfection, was es- 
sential to his character as a substitute for sinners ; for if he 
himself had sinned, instead of presenting an acceptable sacri- 
fice for others, himself would have needed an expiatory of- 
fering. That all which he did and said, during his incarnate 
condition, had some bearing on the great work which he came 
to accomplish, and did in some way contribute to it, cannot 
reasonably be doubted. But his expiatory sacrifice appears 
to be the great point, on which rests, in a peculiar manner, the 
hope of our restoration to the divine favour. 

To proceed with the explanation proposed under the pre- 
sent bead ; when I say, Christ in his sufferings was our sub- 
stitute, or, by them he mad$ an expiatory offering far 
i», I mean that God did appoint and accept the suffer- 
ings OF Christ, instead of the punishment due to us 
AS sinners against his law ; and that tn consequence o/'^Aw 
appointment and of these sufferings^ he does forgive our sins 
and receive us to his favour. 

A substitute is something put in lieu of another thing, and 
accepted instead of it. An offering is something presented 
to God. An offering which is acceptable to him, is one made 
by his appointment. An expiatory offering, under the Jewish 
law, was a slain beast, presented to God by his appointment, 
and by a person who had been guilty of some offence and 
incurred a penalty ; in consequence of which presentation, 
the penalty for his offence, threatened by the law of Moses, 
was remitted, or the offender was pardoned. To say then 
that Christ made an expiatory offering for t«», according to 
my apprehension of the meaning of Scriptural language, im- 
plies that his sufferings and death were^ by divine appointment^ 
accepted instead of the punishment due to us as sinners^ and 
that God J in consequence of the offering made by Christy par- 
dom our offences and restores us to kis favour. This also is 




just what I mean, when I say that Christ in hit sufferiag 
attd death wai our aufiiUlute. 

1 do nul feei at aU disposer! to find fault willi oilier In 
giiage, which Christians may choose to employ, in order Ml 
designate the idea that I have now expressed, provided ihi 
define the sense in which diey employ it, and do not leave)) 
open to misconstruction. So doing they may say, " Chri|| 
made satisfaction for our sins;" or, " his death was a (i4 
equivalent for the demands of the law ; " or, " our punidk 
tnent^-our guih — was transferred to him ; " for certainly a 
text employs phraseology e()ual)y strong, and of the s 
Daiure with this. 1 may also say, " Christ made aionemei 
— Christ atoned — for our sins j his suiTerings were vicarioH 
—were in lieu of ours ; he bore the punishment due to tiSii^ 
I may use other and diSereni expressions of the same natun; 
to designate my ideas relative to the subject before u 
whatever phraseology of this kind 1 might employ, or whale*] 
er 1 may employ in this discourse, my meaning would and 
will be one and iJie same, viz. Christ was ovr kxpiatori 
OFFERING, our siiBSTiTLTE, in the sense already explained. 

So far as I am able to understaad the language which. 
Christians in general, who receive the doctrine of the aiOM 
mem, have employed in respect to this subject, it is desigiM 
to convey the idea Uiai I have just conveyed. 1 am \ 
that one may occasionlly meet with expressions, in some n 
lers, relative to the sufferings of Christ, thai seem to irapl 
something more tlian what I have expressed, or something 
different from it. But most divines, who have clearly ex- 
plained themselves, appear to me substantially to agree with 
the view whicii I have given of substitution or expiatory offer- 
ing. If this be the fact, is it not idle to waste time and psins, 
in contending about certain modes of expression, which socdQ. 
may choose to employ, but which others think it better to ai 



1 



because thejr are liable to misconstruction ; when, after all, 
there is a substantial agreement in regard to the idea to be 
designated f In reality, can such contention amount to any 
thing more than a strife about words ? A strife unworthy of 
sober and earnest inquirers after truth ; and one which never 
can serve any purpose, but to alienate from each other and 
divide those, who love the Saviour, and trust for acceptance 
with God solely in his atoning blood. 

To pursue still farther the explanation of the leading terms, 
empteyed to designate the doctrine which I am to establish ; 
a stAMtiiute may be, and where it is voluntarily accepted, on 
the part of him to whom any debt or reparation is due, must 
be, an equivalent of some kind or other, a satisfaction in some 
sense, for such debt or penalty due. But it may be equiv- 
alent or satisfactory, without being the same either in kind or 
quantity as that in the place of which it comes. For plainly 
an equivalent is of two sorts. The first has respect to kind 
and quaniiiifj and requires equality or sameness in regard to 
both. The second is where the substitute answers the same 
em/, as that would have done in the place of which it is put, 
or a higher end of the same nature. The first species of 
substitution or equivalency belongs to various transactions of 
business among men ; such as borrowing and lending, the ex- 
change of various species of property, and other things of the 
like nature. Equivalency of the second kind has respect to 
transactions of a civil or penal nature, and to the intercourse 
of rational beings with each other, as subjects of social or 
other laws. For example, banishment is often substituted, by 
civil governments, instead of inflicting the penalty of death ; 
fines, instead of imprisonment or other corporeal punishment. 
So among men, in their daily intercourse, confession of a fault, 
joined with a request of forgiveness, is accepted as a satisfac- 
tion for an injury done, or an insult offered ; and it is regar- 

2 



10 

tied as an equivalent for it. In all cases of this naturt!, wluok 
are exceedingly numerous ond diversified, both in regard Ht 
the iniercoorse of men with each other, and in respevt i 
civil rulers nnd their subjects, the equivalent or satisfaction 
not the same in kind or quanfily, as thai for tihich it is su! 
siiiuted. Indeed, in all transactions which have respect to 4| 
penally for any injury done, or any violation of law, whe 
substitution is admitted with regard id the offender, the Gi 
kind of equivalency, or that which consists in the same quali 
and quantity, is out of the question- The Utter of a 
Irw demands that the offender himself, and no otlier, shoult 
sufler. But the object of the penally — the ithimate and bi^ 
est object of attaching il to the law — may be attained, pa** 
haps, in some other way, and by substitution ; even in a mot9 
effectual manner, than by a literal infliction of the punishment 
threatened. On the suppositinn that it can be, then if a si 
stituie be admitted instead of liierally inflicting the penallj^) 
one may truly say, thai satisfaction is made, or an equivalt 
rendered, according to the common usage and understanding 
of all men, in respect to subjects of this nature. Indeed, dli 
term equivalent has come, by usage, most commonly to ii 
ply, that the substiiuie does difier in some respects from ll 
for which it is substituted. 

If Christ died then as a substiiuie for sinners, it is do! Mt 
all necessary to suppose, that his sufferings were the eai 
quality and quantity, as would have been endured by thoH 
in whose room he suffered, in case the penally of the law 
had been executed upon them. In fact, such a supposilton 
is replete wiib difliculcies of a kind not easily to be removed. 
The worm tliat never dies, the cup of wrath without misum, 
which is drunk by sinners in the world of wo, ne haveui 
reasons for believing, is the sting of a guilty conscience- 
rondemnatioD and reproach for having violated Uie just and 



ravso. 
liKUmJ 

.-adf?T 



II 

holy laws of God. This sting the holy aod spotless Saviour 
never felt ; this was an agony, to which his bosom of perfect 
purity must have been a stranger. However high, then, his 
sufferings mounted, they could not have been the same in 
kindf as tliose of the wicked in the world of misery. 

Nor can we well conceive how they could have been the 
same in quttiUiijf^ as they deserved whom he redeems^ He 
sufiered but a few hours ; or, if you include his whole period 
of humiliation, but a few years. In his divine nature, con- 
sidered as the immutable Ood^ we cannot conceive of bis bav* 
ing suflbred ; and, indeed, the Scriptures always represenl 
him as having assumed the Aiciiiafi nature, in order that he 
might suffer. Phil. ii. 6-^. Heb. ii. 9. -Great as his suf- 
ferings were, yet they were not like those of the damned, 
sufierings of absolute and hopeless despair. He could look 
beyond them, when hanging on the cross. He did. He 
could see the glory and prosperity of his kingdom, as the 
certain result of them. He had a resurrection from the 
tomb in full view ; he anticipated his ascension to the throne 
of majesty on high, in order to become *' head over all things 
to the Church," and the object of heavenly worship— in 
order. to participate in '^the glory, which he had with the 
Father before the world was." However great then his 
suflbrings were, we can hardly conceive of their having been 
equal in quantity ( so to speak) to those, which were due to 
sinners for whom he suffered. 

When I say, then, that Christ in his sufferings was our 
substitute, I do not mean that those sufferings were an eqiv- 
aleot of the first kind, for the penalty remitted ; or, in other 
words, that be did actually suffer torments the same in kind 
and quantity, as were due to sinners. But still, it seems to me 
to be impossible for us to ascertain how great his sufferings 
letUy woi«. The peculiar constitution, and the unspeakable 



I 



12 

dignity of the Saviour's person ; the spotless innocence of 
bis riiaracter ; ihe agony in the gardeDi wliitli farced bifii 
whole Iraine lo swenl as it were greai drops ol blood ; hipi 
complajnt on the cross, thai his God bad Torsiiken biin ; tbfc 
fact liiat he ex|iired sooner than those who suffered vitl^ 
biin ; llie commotion of the natural world at the woes which 
be endured ; the heavens shrouded with darkness ; the Iom 
minary of the skies extinguished ; the vail of the most ho^- 
place rent, by which Jehovah's .presence was concealed ; iba,' 
rocks and tombs bursting asunder ; and the mouldering dtutj 
of the saints becoming reanimated with life — ail, all combiat. 
to shew, thai Ihe scene of suffering was such as ibe world' 
had never witnessed ; and that it is probably not in tlie powei 
of language to express, nor of our minds to conceive, llie exr 
tent of the agony which Jesus endured. 

That he endured all this as our substitute, or on our aor 
count, is what 1 expect hereafter lo prove. At present!, 
would merely ask. Since he did not suffer on account of aiqt 
guilt of bis own, on what ground can they reconcile his std^i 
ferings with the justice of God, who hold that be was tioti 
substitute for sinners t 4 

Let me dwell a moment longer on the subject of the Sa* 
viour's agony, and observe, that unless the sufferings of Chriat>' 
be regarded as exceedingly great, and in many respects of 1 
nature altogether peculiar, his demeanour under them is quite 
irreconcileable with the undaunted constancy, and patience, 
and firmness, which be at all other limes exhibited. Wbeo 
did he ever before shrink from suffering ? When was he cm. 
er before appalled by danger!* Never. Yet now, in what 
an agony do we behold him in the garden, at the prospect of 
crucifixion. What sinking of soul, what unutterable horror, 
does he exhibit on ihe crciss ! Thousands of other sufferers 
have met death, in all its mosi dreadful forms, with far more 



i 



^ M 



13 

composure, even when unsupported by the consolations and 
hopes of religion. Thousands of martyrs, feeble, emaciated ; 
thousands even of the more delicate sex ; have been stretch- 
ed on the rack, or cast into the flames — punishments more 
dreadful than simple crucifixion — ^while with a dauntless, nay 
with a triumphant spirit, they rejoiced in the midst of tor- 
ments. But here is a suflferer, the only one on earth who 
ever had a spotless character — ^filled too with exalted and 
certain hopes of ultimate triumph and glory — first shrinking 
with honor from the. cup of suflfering which he was to drinkr, 
and then uttering language indicative of the highest possible 
agitation and distress upon the cross. . 

Here now is a difliculty which cannot be solved, on the 
ground that his death was in any respect like that of a com- 
mon man. If it indeed were such, must he not be regarded, 
by every one who contemplates his demeanour on the cross, 
as wanting in caknness and fortitude of soul, when he was so 
appalled and agitated with suflferings which others- have tri- 
umphantly endured f Are we not constrained, then, to regard 
him as suflfering in a degree unparalleled, indescribable, in 
short, not capable of being fully apprehended by us ? 

What this degree was, the Scriptures have not explicitly 
declared; nor indeed was such a declaration necessary. 
Enough, that in his suflferings, the awful displeasure of God 
against sin has been manifested in a most impressive manner. 
Enough, if God has judged that his sufierings, as our substi- 
tute, were carried to such a height, as was by infinite wisdom 
deemed necessary, in order to promote the best designs of 
the divine government. 

To pursue my explanation ; although I cannot consider 
an equivalent of the ^r«^ kind as having been rendered by the 
death of Christ, yet I fully believe that one of the second kind 
was rendered. The object of the penalty aflixed to the 




divine law is not revenge. " God lakes no pleasure in ihs 
dead] of iiim ihatdieth." The object of all peaaky, uo< 
every wise and benevolent government, is to put reslrt 
upon oSences, to exhibit awful testimony or warning agaiott 
them, and (bus to secure ihe interests of virtue. > 

If now virtue be in tbe best manner promoted, and »a 
restrained, by the death of Christ and die consequences tbH 
necessarily flow from it, then die great object of the diviaa 
law and its penalties, is promoted in tbe most effectual tiian» 
ner. Such 1 suppose to be tbe fact ; but this is not tbe 
proper place to establish it. 1 only state so much, tberefors^ 
as is necessary to elucidate tbe meaning, which 1 assign to tb« 
language that I have employed. Indeed, I view tbe greit 
object of tbe divine law, as answered by the death of Chrtal 
in a much higber degree, than it could bave been by a men 
law-administration, and a literal infliction of tbe penally. Moat 
not bis death be regarded as a more awful manifestation of 
divine displeasure against sin, fhan the execution of the latr 
on sinners tbemselves .•' I am forced to view the subject ia 
this light, when I contemplale tbe infinite dignity of tbe Sirf 
viour's person, and the spotless purity of his character ; aai' 
tben turn my eye to Getbseniane, and lo the scenes of 
cross. 

1 confess myself averse to indulging much in speculatkid 
here, as lo the how and the tchy of the equivalency in que** 
tion. IVly reason is, thai ihe sacred writers do not seem Uf 
indulge in any curious speculation on the subject. Soma 
things, as presented by them, appear exceedingly plaJM 
When they bring lo our view the Woan, who was to tbe b** 
ginning with God, and who was Goo ; who created all things; 
who is God over all, and blessed forever ; the true Goo, 
and eternal life ; and represent bim as becoming incarnate 
B —as taking the form of a servant and becoming obedienl ^M 



15 

onto death, even the death of the cross ; and all this on our 
accooDt, that we might be redeemed from deserved ruin ; 
tbey do this to excite our gratitude, our love, our humility, 
our obedience ; and to urge upon us our obligation to devote 
ourselves, nytb all that we have and are, to the service of him 
*'\rha loved us, and who gave himself to die for us." They 
teach us, that the gospel presents motives to obedience of a 
higher nature, and puts restraints upon vice that are more 
eflbctual, than a system of law could do. With this we may 
well be content ; for with this they appear to have been sat- 
isfied. Where is there any philosophizing^ any refined spec* 
ulatkm ID ibeir wriungs, about the manner in which equiva- 
lency or satisfaction is, or can be, made out ? Can we not 
acquiesce in the subject, just as they have left it ? If they 
present the death of Christ as a most awful and affecting dis- 
play of the evil of sin, and of the divine displeasure against 
kf enhanced beyond description by tlie dignity of his person, 
and she peculiar severity of his sufferings ; and if this makes 
ao appeal to the moral sensibilities of the human race, m 
favour of gratitude and obedience to God, and against sin, 
in a manner far more affecting and successful, than the literal 
ezecutioB of the penalty of the law on sinners; is not this 
sufficient } And if thus much lies on the face of the New 
Testament, and every reader, learned and unlearned, can 
see and feel it ; this is enough. The object of the law is in 
the most efiectual nuinner answered. 

. For myself, I need nothing more than this, to produce 
qmetode of mind in regard to this part of our subject. More 
than this, the Laplander' and the Hottentot— -nay most of the 
human race— cannot well be expected to understand ; nor 
can I see how it is really important that they sliould. If 
odbers fisel, that dear and satisfactory views about the manner 
in which equivalency is made out, are to be obtained by 



) 




pursuing the speculations of a refined philosophy, I will D 
objecl. Bui I may suggesi one cauiion, viz. ibatif we a 
lenipl lo build the doclrine of aionement on ihe specultt* 
lions of philosophy, and do not acquiesce in the subjert, asit 
is simply presented by ihe writers of ibe New yesiament^ 
so simply, that the heathen can understand and feel it aswdl 
as we — then we must not be surprised, if we find philoe 
phy objecting to the atonement itself, and claiming a right M 
prostrate our edifice, by the same power which has raised itup> 

I have said enough, I trust, lo explain what 1 mean, and 
what I do not mean, by the principal terms employed in relt' 
tion 10 the doctrine which 1 am discussing. I pass on, thea^ 

U. To prove ilie doctrine, ihat Christ in bis sufTeringi 
was our substitdte, or that by them be made an expiatou 
OFFGHiNG for sinners. 

Here I must ask, at the threshold ; Before what tribi^ 
nal shall the question be brought, which tliis subject necea* 
sarily raises i* 

I am bold to aver, that philosophy is not a competeot 
judge to decide it. In averring this, however, I lake it lor 
granted, that philosophy is unable to disprove the credit dm 
to divine revelation. On Uie supposition that such is tfai 
case, and as a believer in divine revelation, I may bold myseIC 
under obligation to prove nothing more, in regard to ihe substi^ 
tution or expiatory sacrifice of Christ, than ibat ihe Scrip-' 
tures have revealed it as a cact. Has God, then, declared it 
to be B FACT f Do the Saviour and his apostles declare it to be 
90 ? These are the questions, and the only ones of any 
particular imporiance, about which a smcere and implicit 
believer io the divine testimony needs to be soliciious. It 
cannot surely be of much consequence, what diflicullie 
can be raised by speculating on pbllosophical grounds, abou 
the nature or manner of substitution. The fact itself is that 



17 

with which we are concerned, as poor ruined sinners. We 
might indeed well say, that when the aathority of revelation is 
admitted, the questions vfhy and Aoti>, in respect to the 
atooemedt, couid be entirely dismissed from our discussion, 
as being by no means necessarily attached to it. Does phi- 
losophy 6nd tbe doctrine of atonement by the death bf the 
Son of God mysterious f We rea^jly concede that it is so ; 
and we know, that the distinguished apostle of the Gentiles 
believed themif$tery of godliness to ba great; and that the 
angeb themselves are represented as earnestly desirous of 
prying into this mystery. 

But if philotophy bonders here, (for which we will not 
blame her), yet she has no right to scoff. If atonement by 
the vicarious sufferings and death of Christ 'be a reality, it is 
one which the book of Grod only reveals. I fully agree with 
the Naturalists in saying, that the book of nature presents 
nothing but a blank leaf, in respect to an atonement effected 
in this manner. Not one syllable can be made out from it, 
with any certainty. The necessity of some atonement or 
expiatory offering, has indeed been felt by nearly all the hu- 
man race, however unenlightened ; and acknowledged in the 
bk>ody sacrifices, which they have offered to the gods whom 
ibef worshipped. But the method of it, as proposed in the 
Gospel, is quite above the discovery of unenlightened or 
even pbik)3ophical reason. The most rigid sect of moralists 
among the heathen, did not admit that pardoning mer^y 
could with any propriety be extended to tliose, who had in- 
curred the penalty which justice demanded. Seneca de- 
clares, that a wise man does not remit the punishment which he 
ought to exact, (De dementia II. 6. 7). How then could 
this phikMophisr, or those who were like him, discover or be^ 
lieve the doctrine of substitution or vicarious suffering by the 
death of the Son of God f What they never imagined, or 

3 




I 



H not 



whai many when it is proposed to them regard as fonlishnenl' 
God has declared to be (he means of salvation. To revels* 
tion, then, we must go, for any instruclion with regard lo thv 
doctrine of pardoning mercy ihrough the atoning blood of' 

Bill another view of [he subject is necessarily suggested 
by that which has now. been taken. This is, that as p\M 
losophy was unable to discover the doctrine of atonement bf 
Christ, so she is ecjitally incompetent to malte any valid 
objections against it. She cannot sliew that it is absurd: 
Could this be done, then we must admit that the doctrine of 
atonement by vicarious suffering would be incapable of de- 
fdnce; for the human mittd, ifitbe well iihtmlnaied, and 
guided in its researches by candour and a love of truth, can- 
not receive and accredit that which is absurd. But whfr 
does not know tliat through ignorance, prejudice, and bast?, 
or when influenced by erroneous pjtilosophy, some men may 
pronounce things to be absurd, which the most acute, sober, 
and judicious, think to be rational? In regard, hiiwevef, la 
die doctrine ofsubstitution, the matter seems to be quite rtear>* 
Absurd this doctrine of itself cannot be called ; for the wisest 
and best human governinenis, as has already been mention^ 
ed, often admit the principle in respect lo penalties incurredi 
But will any one venture, on account of this, to accuse civB* 
rulers of acting irrationally and absurdly ? Wilt nny one eveiT 
venture the assertion, that this principle, prudently and sobep^ 
ly applied, is not the means of evident gain, in respect lo tiW 
great ends which civil government is designed toaccomplisbf 
If not, then surely it must be conceded, that infinite power,-' 
connected with infinite wisdom and benevolence, can employ 
Eobsiilution in such a way as to promote the inijiortanl end( 

he divine governmeni. Philosophy, most evidently, hac- 
it not in her power lo disprove this ; and therefore baa oA 



19 

right to deny the possibility of it ; much less to declare that the 
doctrine is absurd. In short, as she cannot do this, nor dis- 
prove the credit due to revelation, it is plain that the matter 
comes not at all within her jurisdiction. 

The question in respect to jsubstitution, then, stands high 
above the objections which all the eflbrts of philosophy can 
raise; equally unaffected by her sophistry at one time, or by 
her scorn and contumely at another. 

It follows from what has been said, that the impossibility 
of substitution, under the divine government, cannot be es- 
tablished. Nay, I advance farther, and aver, that so far 
from there being any impossibility in the case, it is a matter 
of fact that substitution was admitted for nearly fifteen centu- 
ries, under the Mosaic dispensation ; to say nothing of the 
expiatory sacrifices of the patriarchal age. It was admitted, 
too, under the Mosaic ecgnomy, as a type of the substitution 
or expiatory offering of Christ. Paul has taught us in the 
most explicit manner, in his Epistle to the Hebrews, that all 
the expiatory offerings and sacrifices of ike Jews were typical 
^/Ae great atoning sacrifice by the death of Christ ; and 
thai they to^e originally designed by God to be so. Conse- 
quently, when thus authorized, we may draw a comparison 
from the one, in order to illustrate the other. 

The expiatory offerings of the law were not a substitution, 
I admit, which didof itself procure a remission of the punish- 
ment due to the moral turpitude of sin ; for it is impossible, 
as the sacred writejr has told us, that the blood of goats and 
bullocks should take away sin, and tranquillize the conscience 
wounded by a sense of guilt. It could not remove the ap- 
prebensioa, that divine displeasure might inflict on the offen- 
der punishment of a spiritual nature. But still, it is a fact, that 
the bkx>d of goats and bullocks was appointed by God, to be 
an expiatory offering for certain offences against the Jewish 



I 

I 



so 

lnw ; while at the same tiaie, this very ofibring 
type of the sacriSce to be offered by Cbrisi, in order to w 
move ihe punishment due to cnoral turpitude. He nbp^ 
brnughl a sin or .trespass offering, and presented it to tb» 
I^ord, was exeinpicd Iroin the sentence, VKiiicb tlie law of 
Moses pronounced against the external offence ihni he had' 
committed- The whole nntion, as such, were freed from ite 
penally annexed to certain offences, on the great day t£ 
atonement, when the high priest entered the most holy place, 
and presented the blond of the natioDal offering or victim b»- 
fore Jehovah ; not indeed from the punishment of a spirt^ 
iial nature diie to sin, but from some penally of an externil 
nature, threatened in the present life. In a word, God as the 
sovereign legislator and Judge of the Jews did, by the 
cise of his supreme riglit, actually appoint sin and trespuB 
offerings as expiatory sacrifices ; which being presented 
agreeably to his nppo'rntmenl, were followed by the real rs- 
mission, on his part, of the penalty due lo certain oSenceit 
and threatened by the law of Moses. So the apostle hiiO* 
self stales the subject. "The blood of bulls and goats, and 
the aslies of a heifer, sprinkling those who were defiled) 
made expiation in respect to external purity ;" i. e. after the 
performance of such sacrilicial rites, the Jews were regarded 
and treated, in respect to their external relations, as pure or 
free from ex[)Osure to the penalty threatened by the law of I 
Moses, Heb. ix. 13. 

The fact just staled cannot be called in question. W»i 
have only to open tlie book of Leviticus, and it is at once 
hibiled before our eyes. 

Here, then, we are presented with a case of substiWr 
tion ; actual substitution by the appointment of God, the SM- 
preme legislator and judge of the Jewish nation, and of al 
men ; a case in which a beast was slain, instead of the crit»- 



21 

ioal being punished who made an ofiering of it* and who 
had himself incurred the penalty of tlie Mosaic law. 

But how and uiky such an expiation as has been descri- 
bed was made by the blood of slain beasts, different persons 
have endeavoured, and might endeavour, to explain in vari- 
ous ways. I cannot enter at all here, into the discussioo of 
this point. Suffice it- to say, that all who admit the reasoning 
in the Episde to the Hebrews,, must admit that the Jewish 
sacrifices were typical of the sacrifice of Christ. Dk> not 
the representations of the Scripture also entitle us to believe, 
that the penitent offender, who was sufficiendy enlightened 
in respect to the- true nature of the Mosaic dispensation, while 
he knew that through his offering penalties of an external na« 
ture would of course be remitted to him, might, and probably 
did, look forward by faith, to the great atoning sacrifice, the 
antitype of that wliich he ofered, for a remission of the pun- 
iafament of a spiritual nature, which was due. to his trans- 
gressions i 

Considering now the facts in regard to this whole sub- 
ject, as they stand disclosed in the Jewish Scriptures, who 
will venture to pronounce, that a similar arrangement under 
the general government of God in respect to men, is impos- 
eible i The mord purposes of God in respect to this gov- 
eroment, we may cheerfully admit, are the highest purposes 
which are knoiwn to us. But had he no moral purposes to 
efl^t under the Jewish dispensation, and by the Mosaic insti- 
tutes? Most certainly he had. Incipient and imperfect 
they were indeed, compared with the great moral ends ac- 
complished by the Gospel. But siill they were real. Yet 
God as the supreme lawgiver and judge of the Jews, did, in 
tome cases, remit the penalty of his law as given by Moses, 
in consequence of a substitute for it. Now if the thing it- 
self were absurd or impossible, he could not have done it. 



I 

I 

I 
I 



I 



22 

Nor can we conceive of any more impossibility, that ba 
should do the same thing under the general government 
men, than liini he should do it under the Jewish dispense lioiu 
Wrong is not more really done (if there he wrong at all) '» 
the one case, thnn in the oiber ; and one is (lierefore just 
possible for God as ihe other. So far as we can see, the 
is no more hazard to the general interesis of Ihe universe, is 
the admission of vicarious sacrifice for sinners, than ttief^: 
was to the Jewish commonwealth, hy ibe admission of esf** 
alory offering into lis system of government. 

In a word ; God did admit vicarious sacriiices under 
government of the Jeivs ; and an inspired apostle has tauj 
us that they were, and were designed lo be, types of the gn 
expiatory offering made by Christ. To express it in another 
manner ; that was done in ancient times upon a smaller sralf^ 
which at a later period was done ou a larger one. Tbe' 
penalty for cerlaio offences against the Mosaic law, was 
moved by the sacrifice of goals and bullocks ; and the peiH 
alty against the higher law of heaven, (if you please so n 
name it), is removed hy the death of Christ. If both are 
the arrangement of heaven, Ihe one presents no more iinpi 
sibility than the other. 

Nor can it be objected here, that the expiatory sacrifii 
of the law procured merely the remission of a civil 
siastical penalty, which was wholly of an external nature, ai 
could be inflicted by men ; but that the removal of the pe 
alty due to moral turpitude, is a very different thing, and biff, 
a much more iniporlant bearing upon the interests of God' 
moral government. 1 accede lo liie fact that it has, Bil 
this does not render an expiatory offering impossible, prO' 
vided one adtquate to Ihe oceamn can be made. I believ*r 
the Scriptures teach us, that such an one has been made b]l 
the Son of God. As the end to he accomplished by a Sai 



23 

Tiour's death, was of a far higher, nobler nature, than that ac- 
complished by the sacrifices of the Levitical law ; so the vic- 
tim that was to be offered, was of a rank which corresponded 
to the object to be attained. The redemption of men from 
everlasting death, (not of the Jews only but. also of the Gen- 
tiles), was concerned with this sacrifice. Well then might 
the apostle draw the admirable comparison, which he has 
drawn in Heb. ix. 13, 14, between the one species of offer- 
ing and the other. ^^ If,'' says he, ^* the blood of bulls and 
of goats, and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling the unclean, 
sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh ; how much more 
shall the blood of Christ, who by an eternal spirit offered 
himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from 
dead^works^ to serve the living God." That is, If the beast 
which periished forever under the knife of the sacrificing 
priest, did still, by divine appointment, make atonement for 
certain offences against the Mosaic law, so that the penalty 
denounced against them was remitted, and the offender treat- 
ed as though he were ndt guilty ; liow much more shall the 
holy Saviour, a victim possessed of a nobler nature-— of a 
never-dying spirit — make expiation for the moral turpitude 
of ofiences against God as the governor of the world. 

If this reasoning of the apostle be admitted, then we can 
never prove the impossibility of atonement for sin, by alleging 
that no victim can be adequate to the occasion. For the 
apostle plainly declares, that the sacrifice of Christ was more 
adequate to the purpose for which itwns made, than the 
death of the victim under the ancient dispensation was, to 
the occasion which demanded it. 

Nor can the justice of God - be alleged as constituting a 
ground of impossibility, that an expiatory offering should Be 
admitted for sinners. All men, who hold that there is for- 
giveness at all with jSod, must of cQurse concede that his jus- 




L: 



34 

tice is no more impugned by the forgiveness'of sin throvgk a 
atoueinent, th&n it would be withoul any alonemcm. CaiH I 
aeqoently no objection of ihis nature caa be urged by sucil^ I 
egainsl the possibility of atonement. 

Nor are the advocates of propitiatory sacri^ce obliged H 
content ibemselres willi merely shewing ibat it is /»oafi&{eVl 
they may advance farther, and vcniure lo say, thai the i 
pTobabUityoi such an arrangemeni, under the divine goveriK I 
ment, can in no valid manner be shewn. Wilt its opponenti I 
appeal to the feelings of men in general, and declare tbit 1 
such a sacriGce is naturally revolting to the humao tnindf*^ 
How then comes it lo pass, that every iHbe and nation, froii 
ihe pbilo!!opbic Greeks down lo (be roaming Tartars, koA 1 
the Gend-like race of New-Zealand — every part of oW I 
degraded race however ignorant or barbarous, lliat have I 
all acknowledged ibe existence of any divinity — have agreed ] 
in oaring to biin propitiatory sacrifices .'' Does ihis univei'> 1 
sal custom of the mere children of nature, look as if thedoc^ I 
trine were revolting lo the Grsi pr'mciples of the human breast? I 
Or does it look as if the hand of Omnipotence liad enstamp^ J 
ed, on ihe very elements of our moral constitution, & auscep-' f 
tibility of receivrng it, a predisposition lo admit it ? WbowiB'i 
or can explain llie origin and prevalence of vicarious sacrifr J 
ces, on any other ground that iliis ? 

I proceed one step further. To me it seems plain, tbtfl 
although reason, unenlightened by revelation, never couWl 
have discovered a way of pardon for sin by the espiato 
death of the Son of God ; yet when all the attributes of tl 
Deity are brought into full view by ilie Scriptures, and i1 
character of man is also developed in full, then reason ma/ 1 
well give, and to preserve lier character must give, her s 

ihe doctrine of pardon by expiatory sacrifice, if she findaJI'J 
there revealed. 



25 

God 18 just ; therefore be will punish sin : and if we read 
onljr the book of nature, must we not say too, with Seneca, 
^ therefore he cannot forgive it f " But revelation discloses 
his attribute of mercy ; and mercy consists essentially in re* 
mitting the strict claims of justice, either in whole or in part 
How then shall God possess these two attributes, and exer- 
cise them b respect to our guilty rebeUious race ? A ques- 
tion which *^ ages and generations'' could not answer ; a 
mystery hidden from them ; a question which philosophy 
may seek in vain satisfactorily to solve. But in the cross of 
Christ, vgj, his expiatory sufferings and death, we may find 
an answer. Here, ^* mercy and truth have met together ; 
righteousness and peace have embraced each other." In the 
agonies of Christ, a personage of such transcendant dignity 
and glory, we see the terrors of divine justice displayed in 
the naost af^ting manner, and are impressively taught what 
eril is due to sin. In the pardon purchased by his death, we 
contemplate the riches of dirine mercy. God might have 
diqilayed his justice, indeed, in the world of perdition, and 
called us to contemplate it as written in characters that would 
make us shudder. His mercy also he might have displayed, 
by the absolute and unconditional pardon of sinners, provided 
DO atooement had been made. But who could look on the 
radiance of his simple justice, as exhibited only in such a 
manner, without extinguishing his vision forever f Or who 
could contemplate undiscriminating and unconditional mercy 
only, without being influenced to forget the awful displeasure 
of God against sin, or being emboldened to continue in il f 
But in the cross of Jesus, his justice and hb mercy are uni- 
ted. Here is the bright spot where the efiulgence of the De- 
ity converges and centres. On this we may gaze with ad- 
nriratioD, with safety, with delight ; for here the rays of eter- 
nal glory meet and blend, so as to be sweetly attempered to 

4 




our TiaoD. The bow in tbo olouid, wh— tht' tf oifa i 'rf* ika 
suo, tbo iHighiett image of hi Miker li tibe -Mnmi mMt 
meat and mingle, and present tooirvkir-tbedefighlfilttokM 
that the waters of a flood will drom lb* «anfa DO ncMe^ia IM 
a faint emblem of the attempaiwl gkrp'wlueb boaiia §mm 
the cross of Jeaoa, the tokea of de B f—icb >fi«tt"» isaii 
more awfiit tbao that of Noab. 



DISCOURSE II. 



Isaiah liii. 5, 6. 

Hs WAS WOVHDKD FOl|t OUR TRAR80IIE88ION8 ; HB WA8 BRUI8KD FOR OUR 
IVI^UrrUCS ; TRX CHA8TI8XIIXRT op our PXACX was upon him ; AMD 
BT HIS 8TRIPB8 ARB WB RBALBD. AlL WB LIKB 8HBBP HATB GOHR 
AfTRAT ; WB BAYB TURHXD BYBRT ORB TO BIS OWV WAT ; AVD THB 
LORD HATH LAID OB HIM THB INI^UITT OP US ALL. 

I have endeavoured. Id the preceding discourse, to make 
such explanations as are necessary to a right understanding 
of our subject ; and to prepare the way for the introduction 
of direct proof from the Scriptures, respecting the expiatory 
sacrifice of Christ. I have endeavoured to shew, that we 
ccniiot refer the question, whether an expiatory offering has 
been made by the Son of God for the sins of men, to the tri- 
bunal of philosophy. The impossibility of such an offering, 
philosophy cannot prove. The fact that substitution in the 
case of penalties incurred, did for many centuries constitute 
a distinguishing characteristic in the adminbtration of divine 
government among the Jews, must be admitted ; and the 
possibility that it may constitute a prominent feature of God's 
general government, cannot therefore be disproved. 

I advanced a step farther, and undertook to shew, that 
die improbability of an atonement for sin can by no means 
be made out; inasmuch as the human race at large are 
deeply impressed with the idea, that propitiatory sacrifices 
mre needed. Moreover, the attributes of God, and the char* 
tcter of man, as revealed in the Scriptures, render the doc- 



trine of pardon for sio, through the expitiory ofiiBriiig of 
ChriM, by no means improbable. 

If I hare succeeded .in mjr endearours to rmnore obitt^ 
cles, wbicb seemed to lie in the way of making an impartial 
estimate of Scripture testimonT', in re^>ect to the aobiect b^ 
lore us ; and have also ifaefrn, that, the whole queHiaa aunt 
be referred for decison adiely to the word of God ; iben in 
are prepared without embarrasameBt to puraue the ioqoirfi 
What is the testimony of rerelatkw on ibis subject i 

Liet me here premise .a few coosideratioiia, reape cli ag 
(he kind of appeal which I am.about to nuke to the 8eaf- 
lures ; and ibea my proof diall be very brief. Fw notfaB^ 
can be plainer, than that if <* aD Sciiptnre is pren by^ nafit- 
ration of God," then " the mouth of two or three witnesses," 
is enough to establish ibe poiul at which I aim. Of the very 
numerous texts, therefore, to which i might appeal, I shall 
select but a few j and for every attentive reader of the Bible, 
these may serve aa a clue to all the rest. 

My 6rst remark is, that every speaker and writer, inien* 
ding to be understood, employs, and neceuariit/ empkiys, lan- 
guage in the same sense, in which those whom he addreaaei 
use and understand it. None will deny so plain a propositioo. 
Nor can it be deemed less certain, that the sacred wrilera 
dcugned to be understood by those whom they addressed. 

My second remark is, that all the writers of the Old and 
New Testament were Jews ; and that all the Scriptures, with 
very litde exception, were originally addressed to Jews, or 
to churches which in part consisted of Jews. If we de»gn, 
then, to come at ibe meaning of the sacred writers, we moat 
necessarily construe their language in the same way as the 
Jewa would naturally construe it, who lived in the age of the 
prophets and apostles. Nothing can be more plain and ir- 
relragable, than this maxim of inteipreiatton. It is oo pait 



29 

of the inquiry, what ideas we may affix to the language pf 
Scripture, coming to read it in another tongue, in another re- 
gion, nurtured in the bosom of speculative philosophy, and 
desirous of adjusting every thing to our own standard. Wh4T 

IDKAS DID THE PROPHETS, APOSTLES, AND EVANGELISTS MEAN 

TO CONVEY ? b the only proper question, for one who goes 
simply to the law and to the testimony, for the grounds of his 
belief. 

Let us then call to mind, that every Jew was habitually 
conversant with expiatory #acri/icef , with sMbtiUtUion; that 
the system of .substitution was inwrought into the very nature 
of his religious worship ; and that all the Sbppture language, 
which has respect to the sacrifice of ChrMl it directly bor- 
rowed from that which was every day used by the Jew, in 
speaking of the sacrifices that he was required to offer. 

With these facts in view, we are ready to present the sub- 
ject, as it lies before us in the Scriptures. 

Our text is fresh in your minds, and I need not hejre 
repeat it. It asserts that the ^ chastisement or punishment by 
which our peace is procured, was laid upon the Saviour ; 
that by hi3 wounds we are healed ; that all we have gone 
astray, i. e. sinned ; and that Jehovah hath laid on him the 
punishment due to us.' Other parts of the chapter, from 
which our text is taken, repeat the same idea.- ^* For the 
transgression of my people was he smitten," v. 8 ; *^ his soul 
[i. e. be] was made an offering for sin," v. 10 ; *< he shall jus- 
tify [i. e. procure pardon for] many, for be shall bear their 
iniquities," v. 1 1 ; *^ he bare the sin of many, and made inter- 
cesnon for the transgressors," v. 12. 

I only ask here, whether %ny man can rationally and can- 
didly indulge doubts, in what manner the Jews whom the 
prophet addressed, must necessarily have understood this lan- 
guage ? 



Who 



30 

111 regard to ihe New Testament, it is so full of the 
triae in question, that the only difficulty lies in makiug a 
per selection of testimony. 

Peier has quoted some of the passages, which I have just 
cited. Observe how he comments on this seDiimenl. "Who 
his own self, bare our sins in his own body on the tree . . 
by whose stripes ye were healed," I Pet. a. 24. A( 
" We were not redeemed wiili corruptible things .... but by 
llie precious bluod of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and 
without spot," 1 Pet. i. 18, 19. John the Baptist also ex- 
claims, " Behold the Lamb of God, which takeih away the 
sins of the world j!' i. e. the victim, who by divine appoint- 
ment is, through tiis expiatory death, to procure pardon for 
men, John i. 29. So the apostle John ; "The blood of Jesus 
Christ cleanseth us from all sin," 1 John i. 7. "Who is the 
propitiation [or propitiatory sacrifice] for our sins 
for ours only, hut also for the sins of the whole woi Id," 1 Jt 
It. 2. Paul abounds, every where, with llie most glowing 
liments in respect to this great point. " For he bath made 
to be sin [i. e. a sin offering] for us, who knew no sin," 2 
Cor. V. 21. "Christ our passover is sacrificed Jiar us," 1 
Cor. V. 7. "In whom we have redemption tlirough his blood, 
the forgiveness of sins," Eph. i. 7. " VVhom God hath 
forth to be a propitiation [or propitiatory sacrifice], dirougb 

faith in his blood to declare his righteousness [i. e, 

the manifestation of his pardoning mercy], by the remissioB< 
sins," Rom. iii. 25. "Christ bath redeemed us from 
curse of the law,heing made a curse for us," Gal. in. 13. 

Il were easy to proceed, and fill out my whole discoui 
with passages of the tike import. But ihe limits which I 
hai'e prescribed to myself forbid ; and I shall close with two 
tests more, where the resemblance, between the sacri6ces 
under the law and tlie otfering of Christ. 






ugh -, 

i 



< brought ini|M| 



31 

Tiew, that it is impossible to mistake the writer's meaning. 
'* For the bodies of those beasts, whose blood is brought into 
the sanctuary by the high priest for sin, are burned without the 
camp ; wherefore Jesus also, that he might make expiation 
{iyiiofi) for the people with his own blood, suffered without 
the gate,'* Heb. xiii. 11, 12. In other words, what was 
done ra the type, was fulfilled in the antitype. Again ; *' For 
if the blood of bulls and goats, and the ashes of a heifer, 
sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh ; 
how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the 
eternal spirit offered up himself without spot to Grod, purge 
your codscience from dead works, to serve the living God," 
Heb. IX. 13, 14. 

I ask now of any candid man, who has some proper concep- 
tion of the manner in which the Jews employed language of 
this nature, nothing more, than that lajring his hand on his 
heart, and making the appeal to him who searches that 
heart, he would inquire, whether a Jew, addressing Jews 
with such language as this, could expect or wish to be under- 
stood in any other way, than as inculcating the doctrine of 
svbtiiiutianj or the expiatory sufferings of Jesus. 

I have done with citing testimony ; for if what I have 
adduced does not establish the fact, that the sacred writers 
did mean to inculcate the doctrine in question, then plainly, 
the many scores - of additional texts which might be quoted, 
will not prove it ; nor any language, I must add, which it 
would be in the power of a human being to employ. 

As a proof of this, I only advert to the manner in which 
all plain unlettered Christians have always understood these 
texts, from the time of the apostles down to the present mo- 
ment. They never had a doubt on the subject of their 
meaning, unless some speculating theologian excited it ; and 
of themselves, I do believe, they never would hav^ one, to 
the end of time. 



I 



32 

But I may make an appeal of another kind, in regard 
the manner in wliich this language is and must be understood 
by men deeply versed in the idiom of the Scriptures, btit 
wholly indiderent in regard to the fact, whether one or aDotb< 
er doctrine is there taught, because they do not recogoixfl 
iheir authority to decide upon such matters. The most dis- 
tinguished oricntHi and biblical scholar now living, who d»' 
claims all belief in any tiling supernatural in the Scriptures, 
and through the influence of his philosophy maioiains that t 
miracle is impossible, and who therefore cannot be said n 
have any prejudices in favour of the doctriae of alonemem^ 
says, fit the close of a masterly explanation of the languags 
of the chapter from which niy text is taken, that " most He- 
brew readers, who had once been acquainted with offering 
tmd substitution, must necessarii.v understand the words of 
our chapter as asserting it ; and there is no dodbt," be adds, 
" that the apostolic representation, in respect to the propiiut' 
lory death of Christ, certainly rests in a manner altogether 
preeminent, on this ground." (Gesenius, Comm. iiberJv* 
aaiam, liii. 15.) ' 

So much for the testimony of Scripture, and forlbemaiH 
ner in which the unlearned and the learned have understood 
it, and do still understand It. 

We come, then, if my proof is valid, to the simple atteN 
native, either to admit the doctrine in question, or to reject 
the authority of the sacred writers. There is no other paA 
which can be taken, unless it can he fairly shewn, that tb« 
interpretation which has been given to the language cited 
abore, is not agreeable to tlie usage of speech among ibe 
Jews: an undertaking whicb, I am well persuaded, is 6e9* 
perate ; and one which no critic, no philologist, can evet 
accomplish, until the whole history of Jewish ideas in re«i. 
pea to these subjects, during former ages, is blotted out froid 




33 

the records of the world. I repeat it, then, for I do most 
solemnly believe it, that we must either receive the doctrine 
of substitution and expiatory offering by the death of Christ, 
or virtually lay aside the authority of the Scriptures, and lean 
upon pur own philosophy. 

HI. I come now, according to the plan of my discourse, 
to conaider some of the objections made against the doctrine 
of the atonement. 

1 do not feel it to be important, here, to dwell upon them 
at length. There is only one method in which any legiti- 
mate objections can be made, by those who admit the au- 
thority of revelation. This is, to shew that the language of 
Scripture, according to Jewish idiom, does not mean what 
I have construed it as meaning. But this mode of objecting, 
the speculators and skeptics who have rejected the doctrine 
of substitution, have been very careful to avoid. Their re- 
fuge is philosophy. They raise doubts about equivalency ; 
they must see, as philosophers, the why and the hato in re- 
spect to this mysterious transaction. Whatever pertains to 
this part of the subject, however, I have sufficiently dwelt 
upon already. I shall therefore only glance here, at some 
of the most popular methods employed to oppose the doc- 
trine of substitution, or to explain it away. 

Obj. 1. ^An atonement for sin is unnecessary. God 
can forgive it as well without an atonement as with one ; and 
the. doctrine, if true, divests the Supreme Being of the attri- 
bute of mercy. If the full debt is paid, where is there any 
room for mercy in forgiving it ?' 

But who is to decide the point, whether God can forgive 
sin without an atonement? The natuiyl possibility of it, I ad- 
mit; that is, I admit that as sovereign of the universe, and 
possessing omnipotence, he might pardon sin, (if he had judged 
h best to do so), without the intervention of a suffering sub- 

5 




stiiutv. But this is no real pan of our question. Wtiat Aw, 
h« judged best, is ihe only proper inquiry ; and how can this 
be anstveied ? Only, as we have already see^, by rerelx* 
tion. But that revelation tells us, it is " llie Lamb of GoA 
which lakelh away the sins of the world ; " ifani " tliere is aa 
other name under heaven given among men, whereby wo- 
must be saved, nor is there salvation in any other," Acts it. 
12 ; that " tliere is one God, and one mediator between God 
and man, the man Christ Jesus who gavo himself a ransom for 
all," 1 Tim. II. 5, 6; and ihafnlHiave sinned and coma 
short «f ihe glory of God,'' and conscquenily, must be " gra* 
tuitously justified through the redemption that is inJesuy 
Christ, whom God haili set forth as a propitiatory sacrifjce," 
Rom. HI. 23 — 23. 

. This point then is put at rest by the Bible. And wheD 
those wIm) doubt, admonish us that it would be un^ec(»ntn^ b 
respect to the Supreme Being, and derogatory to his charac- 
ter, to stippose that the suSerlngs of Christ, an innocent victim^ 
were deemed by him to be necessary or acceptable; I 
answer simply with Paul: " For it became him, for whon' 
are all things, and by whom are all things, in order UK' 
bring many sons to glory, to make perfect the Captain ol^ 
their saivaiion through sufTerings," Heb. ii. 10. 

When they further allege, also, that liie altribtile of mer- 
cy is virtually denied to the Supreme Being, by (he suppo- 
sition of an atonement, they can say this, only on the ground 
that an exact and literal equivalent for the penal part of lhi» 
divine law, both as to the kind and quantity of suffering, h» 
been demanded of die substitute ; a doctrine incapable, as W8- 
have seen, of being sup[)or[ed ; and to meet the difficulties of 
which, 1 certainly will not incur any responsibility. Tb«< 
simple Scripturalslatement of substitution, is not liable totbJA 
objection. • 



35 

Qrj. 2. 'The motires to strenuous efibrt in order to live 
t virtuous and boly life, are greatly weakened by the doc- 
trine in question.' 

' This objection is as old, at least, as the time of Paul ; 
and it is met by him in such a manner as to save us, at the 
present time, from the necessity of any efibrt to make an ad- 
equate reply. After representing the death of Christ (Rom. 
III.) as the only foundation of the sinners hope, he meets this 
vary objection, which he knew would be made by those who 
doubted his doctrine, in these words ; " Do we then make void 
the law, through faith f" i. e. do we diminish the force of 
moral precept or obligation, by preaching the doctrine of gra- 
tuifDUS pardon through atoning blood ? To which he answers 
at once, "Grod forbid ; rather we tatabliBh the law," i. e. we 
enforce its obligations by bid^ motives than before existed. 
After iDustrating, by various^iatancea, the fact that such a 
method of justifying anners is presented to view in the Jew- 
ish Scriptures, he resumes the consideration of the objection. 
He represents the objector as suggesting ; ''What shall we say 
then ? Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound ? God 
ibrbid,'* he answers again, " bow shall we who are dead to 
sm, any bnger continue to practise it ?" Rom. vi. 1,2. He 
theb goes on to shew, (which is indeed a most conclusive 
■nd irrefragable answer to tlie whole objection), that Chris- 
tianity, from its very nature, implies of necessity the mortifi- 
cation of all our sinful passions and appetites ; it is itself, in 
its very essence, a principle directly hostile to them, and 
therefore never can indulge or foster them. 

All the difficult of objectors here, arises from overlook- 
ing the whole of this grand point. Atoning blood, extensive 
and gratuitous as the favours are which it proffers, never prof- 
fered one unconditionally. The sinner must be humbled, and 
penitent, who is sprinkled with it. The grace of God, which 



has appeared to ftll men through a Saviour's death, (ncul 
OQ them, wiihoui excepiion, the absolute necessity of 
ing all iingoHlineas and worldly luMs. It urges this, as 
New Testament most amply shews, by excitemenis to vittu^ 
of a higher nature, and by penalties for offences more awAiV 
than any system of law could offer or impose. 

Obj. 3. ' There is no need of laying so much stress ui** 
on llie death of Christ, or of regarding him as our avbtlilult 
in any sense. He may very properly be called our Savioar 
and Redeemer, inasmuch as by bis instructions, he has taught 
us the way in which we may acceptably obey God.' 

That to give inslruction was a pari of Christ's errand o»' 
eaiih, as our Redeemer, I cheerfully admit. But that this 
WHS the great work, which marked him exclusively as the 
Saviour of sinners, it is qui^llai possible to prove. Whati* 
Have we not other inslructors, %ch too as were inspired, as 
well as bef Did be write the New Testament ? Did he,' 
who taught about three years, who was never out of Palestine)" 
and made but few disciples, teach as much, and labour with 
as much success, as Paul, who preached about thirty years, 
and traversed the world to proclaim the messages of salvi* 
tion? If the simple fact of giving instruction, of making dis'^ 
ciples, of successfully inculcating the truth, makes a Redefenl^ 
er, then who has the best title to that appellation; Paul, off 
(I speak it with reverence) Jesus of Nazareth ? And lo 
should the songs of the redeemed in heaven be directed 
Have we not, too, on such ground as ibis, just as many re 
deemers as we have, or have bad, religious teachers.'' 

Qbj. 4. 'The death of Christ was a seal or confinnalioii' 
of the truth, by which we are enlightened aod saved. It 
unnecessary 10 consider what the Scriptures say of its effii 
cy, as amounting to any more tliao this.' ' 

Is this Eoi' Theo was Stephen, and James, and Peier^ 



37 

ind Pauly and every other mar^ to the cause of truth, who 
188 sealed bis testimony to it by bis own blood, our redeem- 
er too. Shall we then bow the knee to them for this testi- 
mony, and ascribe our salvation, at least in part, to them ? 
And the redeemed in heaven— do they ascribe salvation to 
wiariyrsj when they cast their crowns at the feet of the Lamb, 
and sing, Thou wiut f^atn, and hast redeemed ua to Qod by 
m blood? 

Obj. 5. * Christ was our Redeemer, in that he has by 
bb example set before us an acceptable way of worship, and 
tanght us, by personal obedience both active and passive, 
how we may please God.' 

The force of his example to inculcate virtue and piety, 
we ought most gratefully to acknowledge. But the redeem^ 
ing efficacy of it, I cannot by any means admit. A most 
conclusive reason against such a view of it, is found in the 
fact, that while his example could, of course, have an influ- 
ence only during bis life, and on times after those in which 
be lived, his atonement is represented as reaching back to 
the very origin of our race. Thus Paul, '' If the blood of 

bulb and goats sanctifies to the purifying of the flesh ; 

bow much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the 
eternal spirit otkred himself without spot to God, purge your 
conscience from dead works, to serve the living God. And 
for this cause, [i. e. because his expiatory sacrifice posses- 
ses a spiritual or moral eflicacy of such a nature], he is the 
Mediator of the new covenant, so that, his death having taken 
place to make expiatk>n {iig ajtolvrgtaaiv) for sins committed 
under the former covenant, they who are called may re- 
ceive the promised blessings of the heavenly inheritance,'^ 
Heb. IX. 13 — 15. That his death is here plainly consider- 
ed by the apostle, as having a retrospective view and influ- 
ence, is clear from what follows. After observing that the 



30 

flacrifioes AMded to he ofttn re po ii o dli hn * y i -qi 
to say, "The.dealhofChiJsloiiceonljrwaataflioieiit; iflUi 

• 

were not so," he«dds, iheo ''lie niait ^ftem bam suflbrad 
since the foumdatian^ the worW^ Ttal is, ttocbjad 
his death has now acoomplished, the espialoffy 
he has now made, most be adequate fer mea auA ecea^ 
for the past, as wett-asior ibe future ; Albenriae CShriatmost 
have often suffiered, sioce the foundatioDidf ibe ereildi Heb. 
IX. 35, 26. • • • * I ' - . /. e : * 

Exactly to the same purpoieirli tbe.eouliaamJb the 
third chapter of the epistle to the ■Boflwatifc 
that God had seat forth Christ as*' 
adds, '*To declare or manifest bis gratuitous method of jus- 
tificatioQ by the forgiveness of sins in past times, [or, so that 
the sins of former times might be remitted], through the di- 
vine lenity ; and to declare his gratuitous method of Justifi- 
cation, at the present time," Rom. iii. 26, 26. The oppo* 
sition of present time here, to the past in the preceding 
clause, shews beyond all reasonable doubt, as it seems to me, 
that the object of the apostle is to assert, not only the influ- 
ence of Christ's propitiatory sacrifice, but its extension to 
past times as well as to present ; and of course, the sentiment 
is the same with that which is disclosed in the epistle to the 
Hebrews. 

Here then we may take our stand in defence of f^fearious 
sacrifice, secure agamst being moved by suggestions, that ex* 
ample is the great point in the Redeemer's work. Here, at 
all events, is vicarious influence, if there be influence on ages 
that have passed by. And that the apostle means to assert 
this, appears to me as clear as any other sentiment deducible 
from his writings. 

Obj. 6. The last objection which I shall notice, is * that to 
represent the innocent as suflbring for the guilty, is a Tirtual 



39 

impeacbmeot of divine equity, and of tliose principles of mor- 
al government which the ruler of the universe has establbhed.' 

To him, who acknowledges the Scriptures as a divine 
revelatioQ, I reply simply in their language, " He hath made 
bim to be a sin-ofiering, who knew no sin" i. e. the innocent 
baa suffered for the guilty, 2 Cor. v. 21 . " But Christ hath 
once sufiered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might 
bring us to God," 1 Pet in. 1 8. Such is the fact ; and I 
merely ask, Is God unjust ? and do the Scriptures represent 
bim CO be so, because of this f 

Even to those who do not acknowledge the authority of 
the Scriptures, to the sober Rationalist or Theist, I might 
present a greater difficulty still. Children sufler on account 
of tbe crimes of their parents ; nations, on account of the vi- 
ces of their rulers ; and that, without the consent of the suf- 
ferers. Yet, by their own acknowledgment, divine justice and 
tbe priadples of moral government are not impeachable on 
this account. Are they so then, if Christ vohintarilyj and 
out of pity and love, sufiered the just for the unjust ? 

But I must leave the examination of objections. I dismiss 
tbem all with this single remark. When it shall be shewn 
chat the language of the Scriptures must not, according to 
rules of interpretation which are fundamental and capable of 
demonstration, be construed as conveying, and as designed to 
convey, the idea of a vicarious or expiatory oflering by the 
death of Christ ; when it shall be shewn that there is even a 
possibility, that the Jews could have understood it in a dif- 
ferent way ; then we may consider the doctrine of substitu- 
tkxi as doubtful : but never tiU then, unless our own conjec- 
tural reasonings are to usurp the place of the sacred writers, 
in deciding upon this matter. 

Having thus briefly canvassed the topics proposed for 
consideratKMi at the commencement of my discourses, I shall 




I 




close wiih a few reliections on ihe subject which has bee 
discussed. 

1. The doctrine of the atonement is a fundamental doo^ 
trine in the Christian system ; and that which distinguish^ 
it, in a peculiar manner, from all other systems of religion. < 

It is fundamental ; because, often as belief in a Saviautf 
is urged in the New Testament, and urged as the indispensa-^ 
ble condition of salvation, equally often is belief in tliat Savioui^ 
as our atoning sacrifice, urged ; and equally conspicuous 
this point, in the whole system of the Christian religion. H 
is not merely, or principally in Jesus as our teacher, our * 
ample, or as having sealed the truth of his testimony by bii 
own blood, that we are called to believe; but principally w 
bim, in that very character in which he was " to the Jewsi 
stumbling block, and to the Greeks foolishness, while unW 
ihem who are saved, he is wisdom and righteousness and 
sanctilication and redemption." What says Paul to. Uie OP 
rintfaiens ? " 1 am determined not to know any thing amoi 
you save Jesus Christ, and him crucified," I Cor. ii. Sb 
Why Christ crucified ? Why not Christ as a teacher, ai 
example, a martyr, a prophet f Plainly because, wliaiereP 
was done by Christ in all theSe characters, it would have ut- 
terly failed to accomplish the design of saving men, unleai 
bis expiatory death had also taken place. Christ cructfiedt 
then, is the very point on which ultimately hang all the hopes 
of our sinful race. So Paul viewed it, when he said, *' God 
forbid thai I should glory, save in ihe cross of Chrbt," Gal/ 
VI. 14. So we loo ought to view it. Other systems of rei 
ligion teach the existence, attributes, and moral govermnent 
of God. This does Judaism In its modem form ; this does 
Theism ; tbis does even Mohammedism. Other systems 
inculcate our social and relative duties. The reiigion of 
Hindooslan exhibits the Deity In a state of incarnation ] so 



41 

that even this is not in all respects peculiar to Christianity. 
But no religion save the Christian, exhibits the incarnate 
Word, suffering, bleeding, dying for sinners ; a Lamb of God 
to take away the sin of the world. This is at once the glo- 
17 and the hope of the Christian system. This is what 
marks it with a peculiarity, that makes it exceedingly distinct 
from, and superior to, all other systems. Give up this point, 
and you confound the broad line of distinction, which sep- 
arates it from all else that is called religion. Suffer this sun 
even to be eclipsed, and the race of man is covered with 
gloom. Quench his glory, and we ar6 at once involved in 
ten-fold more than Egyptian night ; we are doomed to wan- 
der in the shadow of death, on which no morning rays will ' 
ever dawn, nor one gleam of radiance ever fall to alleviate 
its terrors. 

2. 1 remark, finally, that a Saviour suffering for us, the 
eternal Word, God manifest in the flesh, and in our nature 
oflbring an expiatory sacrifice, presents to the moral sympa- 
thies of our race, higher excitements to virtue and piety, and 
more powerful dissuasives from sin, than any other consider- 
ation which the Christian religion proffers. 

I am quite confident, that I might safely undertake to es- 
tablish the correctness of this observation, from the nature of 
our moral constitution, and the manner in which we are most 
successfully influenced to engage in the mortification of our 
sinful appetites, and in the practice of virtue. But I will not 
make such an appeal, because 1 choose to rest the whole 
subject on the Scriptures and the actual experience of Chris- 
tians. 

Paul, when speaking on the topic now introduced, says, 
** God commendeth his love toward ia, in that while we were 
yet sinners, Christ died for us," Rom. v. 8. *' Greater k)ve 
than this hath no man, that he lay down his life for his 



48 



I 



H friends;" but Christ has Tar surpassed litis. The sam 

W apostle says, " When we were enemies, we were reconcih 

to God by the death of his Son," Rom. v. 10. Hei 
is a consideration which will make every heart to vibrat^.l 
that is not lost to all sense of gratitude and of meri-y. UffljpJ 
jmany thousands have heard the thunders of Sinai unmo^e^ 
and even while their nwful power has made ihe very gri^nalJ 
to rock on which they stood, how many have still turned A'l 
deaf ear lo all the admonitions and threalenings which ihef il 
conveyed, and grown more desperate in their resolutions lift] 
persist in rebellion against God ! Yet, after all, tht^y hn 
been raehed down by the proclnmaiion of Jesus' dying lofH^J 
and have fallen as humble suppliants at the fool of his cro 
Yes, we may say with John, " Hereby perceive we the fa 
of God, because he laid down his life for us," 1 Joho i 
IC. And again, " In this was manifested the love of God to- 
wards us, because thai God sent his only begotten Son into 
the world, that we might have life through him." But on 

Inhat point did this love principally rest i* Where did all the 
glories of benevolence concenter ? The same apostle im- 
mediately informs us, " Herein is love, not that we loved God, 
but thai he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitil 
lion for our ans ;" i. e, when we were enemies to I 
Christ died as our propiliaiory offering, and made reconcifil 
lion for us, I John iii. 9, 10. Herein is love indeed, and 
hard must be that heart which can resisl the proposal of it ; 
for if any consideration can avail to subdue the stubborn spMfJ 
of the human breast, this must be tlie one which 1 
most powerful influence of all. 

I appeal to fact. When ihe missionaries of ihe United 
Breilu'en undertook to preach ihe eternal power and God- 
head of the Deity, as dis|>layed in the creation, to the poor 
benighted Greenlanders, they listened, they gazed. 



ropiti*-^ 

"^ 

jncifi*' " 
, and 
.fit; 



L 



Lzed, tbqrwj 



43 

turned away with silent neglect The faithful disciples ur- 
ged on them still more vehemently the attributes of the Cre- 
ator and Judge of all, and their moral accountability to him. 
They listened ; but their hearts remained like the eternal 
ice, with which their region is overspread. Compassion for 
their perishing condition made the servants of Jesus more 
urgent stilL One other chord there was, which perhaps, 
when touched, might be made to vibrate. They touched it 
with a fiuthful hand. They proclaimed to the poor, gazing, 
perishing heathen, a Saviour, bleeding, groaning, dying for 
them. They pointed them to his bleeding hands, his woun- 
ded aide ; they bid them look to that Lamb of God, which 
taketh away the sin of the world. The sight prostrated them 
to the earth. Their stubborn hearts melted like wax before 
the fire. They fell at the foot of a dying Saviour's cross, and 
exclaimed. Lord Jesus, save us or we perish forever ! 

Yes, and millions of the ransomed, who have gone to Zi- 
OD with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads, can 
testify to the power of this taighty truth on their rebellious 
hearts. God so commended his love toward them, by dis- 
ckMHig a Saviour dying on their account, that they could no 
longer resist the invitations of his mercy. It was a mighty 
stream, rushing on with overwhelming power, and bearing 
every thing away before it. 

That Jesus died, and died for us ; that he was oua sub- 
stitute ; that his tender compassion did take us into view 
individually ; that he took our nature in order to enter most 
intimately, most endearingly, into our sympathies, and pro- 
poee himself to us under the most attractive form, is the view 
which Paul took of the Redeemer's work. He was not an 
isolated monument of sufiering, and of God's displeasure 
against sinners; not merely a sign that sin could be pardoned, 
by which only an abstract testimony could be given, like that 



f 
I 



» 



44 

which ihe rainbow gives of God's covenant to drown 
earth no more — a symbol which might have served equally' 
well for angels or for men. No ; " Verily he did not assist 
the aitgels, bill the seed of Abraham." Man was the object 
— the only object — of his incarnalion, sufferings, and death. 
" Wherefore it behooved him in all things lo be madt 
unto his brethren, thai he might be a merciful end faithfiilk^ 
high priest in things pertaining unto God, to make recoacl 
aiion for the sins of his people. For in ihat he himself 
fered, being tempted, he is able also to succour those iliat 
tempted," Heb. ii. 16 — IS. See what pains is here takM>i, 
to represent the suflering Saviour as participating in our nstui 
and entering with the mosl lender sympathy into all our wand 
and woes. Is this to propose him as a mere example of suf- 
fering, cold, distant, abstract ; or is it to make him such a 
high priest as we needed, one who can be touched with I 
feeling for our infirmities, having been tempted in all pointt' 
as we are f Speak, ye whose hearts have been melted 
a Saviour's love, and tell us. Yes, ye who live amid 
horrors of eternal winter and storm ; or ye, who roam io t 
ens parched beneath a burning sun ; all ye, who once wer» 
without God aad without hope in ihe world, aliens from the 
commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenant of 
promise ; speak, and say, Is not ibis the S.iviour you need ; tJie 
Saviour, who has cheered your desponding hearts; who has 
opened to you the prospect of glory ? Is not this he whom 
your souls love ? Speak, ye redeemed, encircling his tin 
above, and casting your crowns at his feet ; is not this he wl 
drew your souls lo him by bonds of love stronger than deal 
which many waters could not quench, nor floods drown 
Hark ! I hear the notes of that song, which fills all the 
gions of heaven with harmony. Ii echoes back to this di 
tantworld;" Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed cs 



hi 
intt'l 

i 



45 

CM>D BT THT BLOOD, out of Bvevy kindred and tongue and 
people and nation, and bast made us kings and priests unto 
oar God forever and ever.'' O for a heart and tongue to 
unite with this grateful, happy throng, and begin on earth 
the notes which we hope to sing, through everlasting ages, 
in the world above ! 

Fear not, my brethren, who are to preach this precious 
Saviour to a perishing world, fear not that the declaration of 
his atoning blood will ever palsy the moral energies of the 
soul. What says that great apostle, who won more souls to 
Jesus, than any other herald of his salvation has ever done ? 
" The love of Christ constraineth us/' But why did it con- 
strain him, and to do what ? ** It constraineth us, because 
we thus judge, that if one died for all, then were all dead ;" 
i. e. it constrains us, because when we were dead in trespasses 
and sins, Christ died to redeem us. What follows f He 
died for us, *' that they which live, should henceforth no more 
live unto themselves, but unto him who died for them and who 
rose again,^^ Preach the same doctrine ; it must forever 
have the same influence — the same mighty, overpowering, 
saving influence— -on every heart that receives it. Proclaim 
to a perishing world glad tidings — glad tidings of great joy. 
Jesus died for them. Jesus can and will save them, if they 
accept the offers of his mercy. Glory in nothing but his 
cross. Be not turned aside from preaching him crucified, by 
any scorn and contumely on the one hand, or cold and spec- 
ulative philosophy on the other. This doctrine is the power 
of God unto salvation to all who believe. Proclaim it then to 
a world perishing in iniquity. Proclaim it to the very ends 
of the earth. It will force open the prison doors. It will 
liberate the captives. It will scatter heavenly glory over our 
benighted world. It will call the dead to life. It will con- 
vert this great Aceldama into the garden of God. This 



46 

boundless valley of dry bones nill become llie scene of i 
boundless a resurrection to life. 

1 thank God, whose providence has so long detained me 
from this sacred place," that I have now enjoyed another op- 
portunity of testifying to you my convictioos in respect lo t 
Saviour's dying love. If 1 should never again be permitteAl 
to do it, receive this as the last and highest expression of iqr J 
siTection to him and to you. I ask for no other privilege oi 
earth, but to make knotvn the efficacy of his death ; aa(l 
none in heaven, but to be associated with tJiose who ascribs | 
salvation to his blood. Aheh. 



rjf at IbcH Di*iwnMM,4li'l 



r 




BRIEF REPORT 



or 



THE DEBATES 



IN TBI 



ANTI-MASONIC STATE CONVENTION 



or Tum 



COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS. 



HELD m FANEUIL HALL, BOSTON, 



DECEMBSB 30, 31, 1880, AND JANUABT 1, 1830. 



BOSTON: 
PUBUSBED BT JOHN MAB8H, NOB. 06 AND 08, STATE STREET 



MDCCCZZZ. 



DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, to wit : 

Dutrict Clerk'i Office. 

BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the sixteenth day of January, A. D. 
1830, and in the fitly fourth year of the Independence of the United States of 
America, John Marsh, of the said district, has deposited in this oiJSce, the title 
of a book, tlie right whereof he claims as proprietor, in the words followicg, to 
wit: 

* A Brief Report of the Debates in the Anti- Masonic State Convefrtioo of the 
Commonwealth of Maissachusetts, Held in Faneuil Hall, Boston, December 80, 
81, 1829, and January 1, 1^0.' 

In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, entitled, ' An 
Act for the encouragement of leammg, by securing the copies of diim, 
charts and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during tot 
times therein mentioned :' and alM> to an Act entitled * An Act supplementtry 
to an Act, entitled ** An Act for the encouragement of leaminjr, by tecurioff 
the copies of maps*, charts and books, to the authors and proprietors of wA 
copies during the times therein mentioned:** and extending the benefits thereof 
to the arts ot designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints.' 

JNO. W. DAVIS, 
aerkqftht DUtrict tf Ma$taeh!u$eii9 



DEBATES, &c. 



Wednesday, Dec. 30, 1829. 
Tbk Convention was organized by the choice of 

Col. Pliny Merrick, of Worcester, President. 

Dr Abner Phelps, of Boston, > i;^. p ., 

Manasseh Kempton, Esq., of New Bedford, ] ^'^^ rresiOents 

Elijah Williams, ^ 

Nathan Lazell, Jr, > Secretmies. 

Stephen Oliver, ) 

Prayers were offered by Rev. Ethan Smith. 

On the motion to choose a Commrftre to report on the truth tf 
the disclosures of Free 3fasom'y^ note before the public^* 

Mr A. Churchill, of Milton, questioned the expediency of 
this measure. It was spendinsr time that could be more usefully 
emploved. He thought the Convention might as woll choose a 
committee to report whether the sun was now shininir abovo 
or below the horizon. TTo did believe the testimonv sufhcieni to 
convince onv reasonable man, who would take the trouble to 
examine it, that the principles of Masonry were now before the 
World. In many instances, in judicial proceedings, the testimony 
of a single witness of fair character, had been sufficient to 
establish fact^ affecting the property and lives of individuals. In 
Hhiscase, there were hundreds, and perhaps thousands of credible 
witnesses, residing in different and distant places, whose testi- 
mony corresponded in every material circumstance. They could 
have held no communication with each other; they were con- 
cerned in no mutual project of profit or aggrandizement; and 
they could have no common object to deceive. If one individual 
had come forward afler another, and denied the correctness of 
former disclosures, sayinp, * this man baa imposed upon you a 
false statement, I will tell ynu the truth,' and then varied the 
testimony so as to give himself a personal and particular claim to 
attention and distinction, then we might have bern thrown into 
doubt; but when mnhitudes ot individuals, in different sections 
of the country, testified to the same facts; when they could 
obtain no possible object by falsehood and misrepresentation, and 

* See Proceedbgs of the Convention, u publidhed by tbo Committee^ ^^^4^ \ 



I 

I 

I 
I 



they could have no motive to deceive, but came fonv»rd i 
reluctance and slmmc, to nctcDowludge faulia end confess e 
vo cnnnot withhold our belief. Ho questioned the cxpedie 
of appointing a Commitlee to report on the truth of the disclo- 
Burea of Free Masonry, because it might be thought to look as 
if we had doubts on the subject, which ke, and he believed nooe 
of the Convention, entertained. He was willing, however, to 
vote for the motion if others thought it necessary. 

Ur Phelfs, of Boston, hoped the motion would prevail. Tbii 
was an important question. Are ihrie dischturei thuE^ It 
seemed necessary that the Convention should decide on this fact 
before they could consistently proceed further. Ifthoy are truo, J 
if we believe them to be true, if we decide they are true, th«i>f 
we could go on. He did not doubt thai many members of th( 
Convention were completely salistied ou this point. But the facd 
should be made to appear in our proceedings. The doings of 
this convention will go before the public. And (he delibcra' 
opinion of Ibis large and respectable body, on the trutL of tl 
disclosures of Free Masonry, will have weight on the puhU( 
mind, provided it should bo (he result of calm, candid, nm 
thorough investigation. He thought it was important that ihi 
Committee should be appointed. 

The motion passed unanimously. 

IN THE AFTERNOO> 

Mr Churcmill, of Milton addressed Iho Convention c 
character and tcndenry of the Masonic Institution, He said (h^ 
short address which the limita of our lime and bis stale ofindit 
position permitted him to make, would be devoted principally l_ 
that trail in the masonic character, designated by the Oath ofthi 
Roynl Arch Mason. Passing over its nlTronting atlacka on iH 
christian religion, and its implied disregard of private rigtita, M 
approach that daring vaunting of crime and injustice containedn 
tho two following obligations, viz; — ' In Ike presence of Ahuf^ 
Gud and Ikii Chapler of Royal Jrc/t Maons ereeli-d lo Ood o 
dediealidlo llie holy order of Sainl John, Ida mast lohmnly awt litt- 
eerehj sivfar, in adiiUion to my farmer obligaliona, S^e.,lh4il IwiQiiid 
and aiiitt a Cotnponion Boijat Arch Mason xehtnerrr I shall see him 
engaged in any difficulty, so far as In exti-icate ktm from the same, 
whether he he right or tmviig.' ' Fmihermore, do I promtH and 
KPtar, that a Cmnpanion Royal Arch Mason's secrets, given nu m 
charge at such, and I knoti-ing him lo be iuek, shall rtmain as teewn 
and ineiolabU in mi/ brtasl aa in his oum, xohen eommunicaled lo mtf J 
mardrr and treason not excepted.' 

The lesson is short, Mr President, and this is all that nood 1) 
learned of Masonry to blast its mputatiun with every honest n 
Casual ditficulties, the effect of accident, are not alone the ob- 
jects of this obligatioDi but they are moral aberrations, difficul* 
ties in which a perverse mind may have entangled the guilty; for 
the sequel would eJ^^^fi^|^^p)po[t, namely, whether he be . 
right or wrong. 



d1#fl 
nan: ^M 

ob- 
cul- 

fbr 

J 



Again, what are the secrets thus inviolably to be guarded ? 
Are they the unguarded expressions, the hasty actions, which are 
no sooner uttered or executed than repented of ? No, they are 
the first volitions, the maturating process, and the heart rending 
execution of crime; of crime in all its numerous gradations; ot 
crime against property and reputation; of crime against the 
peace of families; of crime against that human life which has 
become obnoxious to masonry or any masonic character, amongst 
whom no offence is so great as speaking the truth. 

Acting under the above obligations, the first duty of such a 
mason who knows his confederate to have stained his hands with 
unmasonic blood, is to hide the perpetrator from public suspi- 
cion. This is done by extravagant eulogiums and high toned 
recommendations of his purity and integrity. This failing, he 
must be enabled to elude the research of the officer, if, indeed, 
the officer is not previously indisposed to making any search. 
Or if brought to trial, the witnesses must remember their masonic 
obligati6ns are paramount to those imposed in court. The jury 
must listen to the cry of guilty distress. 

But if all this should fail, there is fortunately in this common- 
wealth, no other resource for masonic influence, but to besiege the 
throne with universal petition for mercy;* or to break the prison 
bolts and let the blood stained prisoner go free. It is believed 
that in the progress of premeditated crime there is a period, at 
which the pcrpretrator is hesitating; how then are his purposes 
emboldened by knowing, that every mason will support him, and 
every such house is a sanctuary into which he may flee and 
find protection. 

• The above gradations are founded on criminal process; but the 
same principles apply to controversy between individuals suitably 
arranged. 

Masonry has the arrogance to claim unbounded antiquity, and 
many worthy characters borne on its catalague. Tts claim, how- 
ever, to those characters, has been before confuted. See an ad- 
dress at the first County Convention held in this state at Dedham. 
With respect to its antiquity, could we once condescend to trifle 
with truth, we would admit their claim, and then say what has 
your ancient institution to boast ? Is antiquity of folly, of crime, 
and of punishment too, the shame you glory in ? Has Masonry 
ever hushed to silence the discord of jarring nations? Has the 
rotundity and diurnal revolutions of the earth been developed by 
Masonry ? Was the trembling needle, which, like the trembling 
conscience, is ever restless till it has gained its point, directed 
by masonic science ? Did her fallacious light show to us the as- 
tonishing powers of gravitation, or unfold the principles on which 
eclipses are calculated? 

In fine, it is believed that no one discovery, that ever blest the 
human family, was effected or aided by the light of Masonry; for 

* See the case of the Rufllant who ihoC the black maa ia Maiden. 




of bH the before mentionerl iinprovements, and indeed «f *l|i 
others, except eensuat gratifications, ond lliat adoration which 
nature inspires, the Great Grand Ro/al Arch High Priest ui4 
Grnnd King, Solomon, was moat profoundly ignorant. 

But, Mr President, one word tu to theii real antiquity. Ofn 
this we find scarcely any vestige. Through the darkaeea whictk* 
covers their mischievous and deleslable anceslry, there br«aki^ 
cat here and (here n recorded crime or eieciitjun, to show thal'i 
such ft race has o.tisled. 

In 1424, or S, an edict of the Britisli governnient> applying, oa 
I think, to speculative Maeons, though some of tkem might b«- 
operative too, denounced their order as guilty, and inflicted thOi, 
punifhrnent of death on some ol' their principal leaders; and fioft 
and imprisonment on all that followed them. In latter days, tbs 
■udden ond unaccountable death of Alexander of Rusiia, soon 
after issuing an edict to suppress those infamous assemblies, haa 
narked another epocha in their history. 

Mr Oliveh, of Lynn, spoke at considerable length on the cha- 
rscler of tho Masonic institution. He alluded to the extravagaat 
panegyric bestowed on it by its orators and votaries, its Itigh- 
wroughl claims to antiquity and moral excellence, and tothepaa' 
Bive aubmis-ion with which it had been received by tho world. 
He slated that for a long time, he paid but little allenlion to Iba 
STowing opposition against it, nor to the alleged disclosures of 
Its ceremonrea and oaths. But when individuals of his own ac- 
quaintance who belonged to (he society had assured him of the 
truth of theaO disclosures, he had investigated the suhject, and 
been convinced that the imitilution wns not deserving of publio 
support. He concluded with an impressive appeal to Chriatiaii 
itiinisters, who, leaving the open and clieerful daylight of tha 
Gospel, were groping for more tight in the dark and gloomy cav- 
erna of Masonry. 

The Committee on the truth of the disclosures of Free Mason- 
ly, made a report.* On motion for its acceptance, Mr Bowm&n, 
oif Cambridge, moved un amendment of that part of the Reporl 
which stated, the budy ofWilliam Morgan had been sunk in Ni- 
UQra river. He had seen no poiiiitive evidence of this fact. Ha 
inought nothing should proceed from this body, whicii was not 
capnble of being fully substantiated, by direct and unimpencbabla 
evidence. He understood the subject was now before legal tri- 
birnals in New York, and it did not become as to interfere, and 
prejudge the case. Whatever might be the conviction of indivtd- 
OrIs, as no legal decision had yet been made, it was not advisa- 
ble for this convention to make any statements which wer« not 
Wpporled by positive testimony. 

Air Hkkhv D. W»bd was in favor of adopting the report sa it 
atOod. He entertained no doubt that the body of Morgan had 
' ! Baak in the river, as alleged. He spoke in high ' *"' 

'D^ngsofttit Coavcution, pag« 4, 



orable terms of £. Giddins, with whom he had conversed on this 
subject. Mr 6. had the care of Morgan during the first part of 
his confinement in the magazine of the Fort. In common with 
several others of the fraternity, he once started for the Fort, for 
the express purpose of inflicting the penalties of Masonry on Mor- 
gan. Before they reached the place, Giddins and another fell 
back, and refused to proceed. His partiality for the institution 
began to weaken from this moment, when ho found it was leading 
bim to the destruction of human life. His scruples brought him 
into a dispute with Col. Kins, one of the party, nnd he gave up 
to him the key of the magazine. Finding they were determined 
to go on with their inhuman work, and fearing to be implicated 
io the catastrophe, he made business which took him away into 
Canada, fbr a few days. Whcfn ho came home on the 20th his 
famRy told him that his ferry-boat had been made use of the night 
bafore. The men in whose clutches he had led Morgan, gave 
hiift to understand, in the most significant terms, that he had been 
destroyed. Ho shrunk from hearing particulars, for he felt the 
information might be perilous to himself, and unsafe to them. He 
was directed by them, to walk the shore of the lake, mornings, to 
watch whether the body floated ashore. Whilst the people after- 
wards were raking the river, these masons were in the utmost con- 
sternation and alarm. They were continually on the shore, watch- 
iog the result of the laborw A high mascMD came to him, and told 
him [G.] to be on the alert, saving with great energy, ' theyUl find 
ikai damned carcau yet.'* Mr W. mentioned a great number of 
&cts and circumstances, which lefl not the shadow of a doubt in 
his mind, that Morcan had been sunk in Niagara river, on the 
night of the 19th of September, 1826. 

Mr S. D. Greene, of Boston, (formerly of Batavia, N. Y.) 
IbUowed in support of the Report, and spoke at some length, giv- 
ing other.circumstances which went to prove the fact alleged. 

Mr MoRToi?, of Milton, (who drafled the report) observed 
that as unanimity of opinion was desirable in this case, the ex- 
mression of a single dissent, to a part of the report was sufficient 
tor him to yield lus own views; and he consented to the amend- 
ment. 

The amendment was then unanimously agreed to. 

Mr Ward then spoke of the truth of the disclosures of Free 
Masonry as far as his personal knowledge extended. He had ta- 
ken three degrees, and the work of Morgan was a fair and com- 
plete revelation of what he had taken. He alluded to the ques- 
tion so oflen asked, why seceders remained so long in the society 
before they discovered its corruption and withdrew. He said 
many joined it with the solemn belief that the institution had been 

Satronbed by Moses and Enoch, by Solomon and Noah, by the 
oly St John, and all the great and good men since. Masonic 
orators and historians had said that it came from God, and that it 
was the foundation of all religion. Individuals joined il ^vVVk sn- 
aked prepoaaeBsioBB in iifi favor. They co^\d ncA ^x^kwqba v^ 



Judge and condemn in an instent what had beca lauded by bo 
inany scholars and divines before Ihetn. The oalhs were not 
wriiien; they were delivered lo Ihem word by word ; they 
Bwore to thenn by peace-meal, and knew not what they did lUI all . 
was done. In fact, Ihey relied on the description of othera foe 
the character of the inslitution, and uever examined it tbem9elve% 
When they fouad tfaey had been imposed on, and that Masonry waa 
corrupt and corrupting, they withdtew, and raised Iheir voice (4 
warn others. Had such a voice been heard before, Ihty mighll 
not have been deluded irilo the anare. 

Rev. Mr Thscher, of Wrentham, could attest to the correcli' 
ness of the disclosures lo the seventh, or Royal Arch degre«^ 
which he had token. He considered the oatha of Masonry rwi- ' 
ther legally, religiously, nor morally binding, becnnse they were 
illegal, irreligious, and immoral in themselves. He alluded tsfl 
the blasphemous personification of Jehovah in the burning bushj I 
and entered at some length into a description of the oallis and cei-tJ 
, emonies of the seven degrees he had taken. 

The Report* was then unanimously accepted. 



ThLBSDHY MoRNtNO, Die. 31. 

The Convention met according to adjournment. I 

Prayers were offered by the Rev, Peter Sanborit of Rea^ J 
■ng' 1 

The Committee on the ^liqwly of Specttlative Fret Mtuonrytji 
made a Report. On motion of its acceptance — 

Mr HoBART, of Leir^ester, conceived that a Report of this n»- 1 
ture, containing important facts, ought not to be hurried through J 
ihc Convention; and if it was in order he would move that illj] 
further consideration should be reterred to afuturehuur, it 
that we might deliberate and act with deliberation upon it. Hsd 
movod its further consideration bo postponed till 4 o'clock thill 
aflernoon. 

Dr Phelps, of Boston, thought an earlier period was preferk- 
ble. There was much business before the Convention, and (he 
lime was short. Many members were a great distance from tbeii 
homes ond it was inoonvenii^nt to hold a long session. He 
wished to proceed with oil the despatch which the nature of the 
case would admit. He was therefore in favor of one o'clock, 
this day ; which hour was allerwards agreed upon. 

The Conunillee on the Slate of Ike PohUc Prtsa made a Re- 
port. On motion for its acceptance, Mr Simonds, of Boston 
wished to have the names of those edilors who refused lo publish 
information on this subject. The public expected newspapers lo 
be the fair and faithful chronicles of the times, and if there were 
{tapers, which suppressed iaToj-miitioii importout to the communi- 



" See Proceeiling of Ihe Conv 



iyj the fact should bo geucrally knowoi and the names of the 
publishers gii^a. He had no wish to injure the feelings or inte- 
rests of any individual connected with the press, neither did he 
think the public should suffer injury by the suppression of facts 
which strongly affected their interests and rights. He hoped the 
names of papers would bo given, whose editors had been applied 
to, to publish information on this subject, and who had rofused; 
and he made a motion to that effect. 

Mr Walker, of Boston, did not wish that any such invidioai 
distinctions should be taken. Ho portrayed the delicate situa* 
lion in which editors and publishers were placed, and gavo some 
forcible reasons why such a course was not expedient. 

Mr Simonds replied that if the fact were true that the press 
was muzzled, the public ought to know it; and diso by whom it 
was done. 

Mr Hosaut, of Leicester, hoped the motion would not prevail. 
Printers of newspapers were under the necessity of relying on 
the patronage of those who supported their presses. They must 
watch the feelings of their subscribers, and they could not with 
prudence hazard the excitement which an unpleasant develops- 
ment might make. The time would come when they might ex- 
press their sentiments on this subject without fear and without 
injury; but that period had not yet arrived. It was too early to 
censure these individuals, these editors, and to mark them out in 
distinguished lines. To do it now was premature; it was bad 
policy. 

Mr Whit.ney, of Boston, thought that ^ sentinels on the watch- 
towers of liberty,' as editors had been called, should not bo 
deterred from doing thoir duty. Afler the garrison had driven 
the foe from their gates, there was not much merit in sounding 
an alarm. It should bo heard at the approach of the enemy, and 
not aAer the battlo was fought. 

He, however, was not disposed to ask for names at this time, 
as a perfect list could not be obtained. The country pressoa 
were locked as close on tlus subject as those of the metropolis; 
and it might appear invidious to publish the names of a few, and 
omit those of many who were equally obnoxious to censure ; for 
if the disclosures of masonry were true, the interests of the com- 
munity must suffer by their suppression. It was a fact, that a 
great majority of the public presses in this city, were conducted 
by masons; — men who had sworn not to * write, print , paint, nor 
engrave the secrets of masonry, on anything moveable or im- 
moveable under the canopy of heaven, whereby they may become 
legible or intelligible to themselves or to any others in the known 
world.* This all niasons swear in their first oath. Now if such 
editors consider the masonic oath binding, they, of course, wiU 
not consent to break it by publishing information on this sqbject, 
and if they did, they would commit peijary, in his view, ju»t as 
much as those masons trho take other methods of disclosing Ibfti^ 



I 



10 

■ecrets. When the neture and tendency^ of mttsonic oaths wer« 
generally underslood, logether with the improper and deceptive 
manner in whinh Ihey are administered, editors would not feet flo 
Mhackled as they do at present. They swear not only ' never 19^ 
reveal,' but ' ever to rojiceai ' the iecretBof maaoDry. InordT' 
to conceal what is already disclosed, they have to auppress 
refuse to publish facta which many of their patrons are interea 
in knowing. All editors, therefore, who are masons, and H 
consider their oaths binding, must be presumed as actiog u 
ft sense of masonic duty in suppressing information and perrM 
ing facts which go to expose the hidden things of their ordt 
To publish their names, might be visiting on their heads, ll ^ 
censure which belongs to the institution. We Bought not i 
injure individuals; our efforts were directed towards the destrfl 
tion of an institution whose secret principles wc believed to fi 
corrupt, and whose power we considered dangerous. 

Mr Rice, of Northborough, would offer another reason whj|i 
sweeping censure should be made against the conductors of (| 
press. Some papers never admitted (he discussion of relitfjf 
in their columns; others never took a decided ground, but abM 
ed politics — many were free for both. From the latter, the pm 
lie had means for information, end from these there was a siu 
cicnt avenuK to enlighten the public. He did not t 
anything which migiit appear tike proscription in any case. He 
thought the press ought to be left wholly free to publish what tt 
pleased, and the public also should be left frep to patronize whom 
it pleased. There were several religious papers in Boston, 
which noticed nothing hut religious matters; the conductors of 
these papers might not be awaie of the bearing which masonry 



hado 



religior 



md therefore have omitted to allude to tiio sub- 



I 



ject. He should be aorr^ to do anything which micht have a 
tendency to diminish the circulation of such papers. lie thought, 
however, that they should publish an abridged statement of the 
masonic disclosures, and of the doings of the people, in tbc same 
manner that they described the progress of Temperance Socie- 
ties, Lyceums, &c. These matters, in his view, did not neuer 
affect religion than Anti-Masonry did. 

Mr Amasa Walkeb, of Boston, rGm.irked, thai lie coi 
dered the subject now before the Convention, (the report 
the slate of the Public Pfcss,) the most important that wo^ 
be presented to their attention, and he hoped it would draw furt^ 
full discussion. It was one of the ^eat objects of the meeting, 
and was second to none in its -practical consequences. The 
report aasiuoes the position, that Masonry does exert an unduo 
influence over the public press. Mr W, said he need not use an 
argument lo convince the gentlemen of this Convention that the 
position was true. It was well known to all, but there might 
be some within the sound of his voice, who might not be equally 
satisfied on this point, but he believed that the fact would * 
apparcat to crery man, if be would for a moment reflect on 






1 



II 



if the public press, in relation 
tnd the aubseqiieat atrocities 
whole of timt Iransoctiun, it 
ted hy the editorial corps 



Hturs« pursued hy the eooductora c 
: abduction of Mr Morgan, : 
wnnccted with that cvcitt. The 
graa well known, was ridiculed and 

hfoughout the United Stalee; and ell who manifest ed 
Javcstigate the subject were abused and traduced. It wai not ihus 
nrhen Stephenson, the reAigee, the felon, was wrongfully arrested 
mprisoned, in this free country — there was then a high and 



1 



ftsol 



aiversal sympathy ii 
feeling and Am 
'<ut be held, 



IB favor — a sympathy honorable t< 
n freedom. That sympathy w 
1 high and striking contrast n' " 



lyalhy of the public press, when a free citizen was torn from the 
Mom of his family, lo sufier incarceration and destruction, 
lircumstances and events, the story of which would form some of 
s most interesting pages of the history of our country, hod 
a place, and the public, as a body were wholly unapprised of 
their existence, while the characters of those who had been nobly 

Saged in the cause of liberty, had been loaded with reproach, 
branded with infamy. — But, said Mr W., the situation gf 
editorial corps, in regard to this subject, is one of great diffi- 
,' and delicacy. They deserve as much, perhaps, of our 
mpalhy as of our censure, and they require of us a strong 
preasion of our sentiments on this aubjecl. He would not 
■sert that all editors were subservient to the dictation or inflU' 
tee of MoBonry, there were honorable exceptions to the remark 
' 'a city, and he would be happy to designate them, if it might 
jpear invidious. There were exceptions in the country, 
le took pleasure in noticing the editors of the Massachu- 
B Yeoman, published in Worcester. They had set a noble and 
arlese example, by coming out, not as the partisans of Anti- 
tf BBonry, but as the adrocaiet of free inquiry, admitting wel! 
written articles, on botli tida of the question, into their columns. 
It was a generous example, and one, he hoped, that would be 
followed. I have said, continued Mr W., that the situation of 
editors is one of great difficMlly. They must, like all other men, 
be governed in some measure by reference to their interest. It 
is well known that most of our newspapers receive a very scanty 
Bupport. The withdrawal of a few names would make many an 
eatablisbment bankrupt. The consequence is, that the editori 
feel greatly averse lo the taking of any step that may subject 
them to the loss of subscribers; and knowing that some, (and 
how many they know not,) of their patrons are masons, they 
dve not incur the displeasure of the brotherhood. 

The thunders of Masonry are long and loud in their ears, hut 
the Yoice of the people they do not hear, and therefore it is not 
K matter of wonder or censure, that they hesitate; W if, after 

Iij shall have been made to hear the voice of a ^""^''"'g people, 
ty neglect to discharge their duty, they becom-^ highly crnniaaL 
'f».™.,.„™J=,».i^n. ,»..,;,« .,. «a the lepresentativea nr B 
: 



I 



r These considerations i 



lepresentativea ^f ^ 



;quire uh, b= "— ■ , ui B 

r«« body of the people of U^^gSBSSS^^' ■^'* ** •^ J 





I 



13 



Voice thcj tannol muiracffrilaiuf. It must be obvinus fo en 
reflecting mind, that ujion the eonduii of the press is to depena , 
the tliaraeter of this controveny. If it ia/rrc, tho j)eo[ile will b©* J 
come enllglitened and oil undu« cicitement will be allajed; bttt JT 
ahacklcd, the movements of ibo people will hci like the terriH 
heaving? of O boisterous ocean. It may bo wall, said Mr W.,' 
consider annie of the objections usually oflered by editors, whi 
rcqucited to insert anything on this subject : and 
the public, aa a body, do not feel nn interest in the qneslinnn 
It may bo well replied to this objection, that if the public do tfl 
feel interested oa the E^ubjoct, it is only because they have nen 
hetiB BufTered to know the true nature and importance of K 
But it is an indisputable fact, that in all pla<5cs, and in every pt^ 
of our country, where any tolerable degree of information hn 
been ditfuscd, the people have manifested a greater degree (jl 
interest and fcehng on this, than on any other subject that I: 
been broached since the days of the revolution. 

One editor will object 'that he baa not room!' But, said 9_. 
W., he can find plenty of room for the wonderful and interestiiii 
exploits of Sam Patch! Yes, there ia room ctiaugh for any ibi^ 
and erery thing but Anti-Masonry, and HO«ie find room « 
to abiac oven that. 

Another very good man will eay, 'Oh! Anti-Masonry las 
Biding, it ia all dying away in New York, and why do you w 
to woke up a similar eicitement here r' ?Jow, said Mr W., 
the epeciol benelil of sufh gentlemen, and others desirous <i 
knowing, I will just state nl wnat rate Anti-Masonry is subsidin 
in New York. The Anti-Masonic votes, in that Btiite lost yen 
were 33,000, and thia year there are 70,000. Now as o ' 
Masonic friends profess to be somewhat skilled in the abatra. 
sciences, I hope they will just favor us with a calculation, hot 
long it will be, at this rate, before Anti-Haaonry will bo entirelj 
extinct! 

But other editors will object ' If thia question is discussed mi 
the newspapers, it will produce an tTcilfmenl.^ Mark the gretit 
kindness of iheg* guardians of the public weal. They take the 
people under theijr parental care, and most humanely conceal 
from their view a subject which they know will produce cxeitement. 
They virtually declare that the people ore not competent to decide 
on the meritsof a question, which, if discussed, will arouse their 
filings and passions. This sentiment is in accordance with a 
certain doctrine, quite in vogue in the despotic courts of Europ^-j 
that ' Iht wore ignorance the more peace' — but however well VHT 
might suit the purposes of foreign tyrants, it would not, hM 
trusted, find much favor in this latitude. 

•The people will be cTciledf Why ? Are they not capable of^ 
judging whether they have sudicient cause for excitement? And 
if they havt, why should they not be * The people were excited 
at the commencement of the Revolution. Hancock and Atlanu 
called aloui «Q tliMr feQew citizens to auqjce to a sense of their J 



- of 
nd 
ed 

aia 

1 



13 

danger, and the public prcf« echoed their appeals and spread 
the excHemerU through the Colonies. But for this the People 
might have been kept in a glorious state of quietude! Tliero 
would have been no disturbance! Tho fires of Bunker Hill 
would never have blazed! and we, good happy people, might 
still have been the peaceable subjects of tho British Crown. 
It was safe ilien to trust the people with a true history of tho 
encroachments and impositions of arbitrary power^ and it is safo 
now. Lamentable indeed is it, if, adcr a lapse of half a century, 
the people of these States are found too ignorant or vicious to be 
trusted with the care of their own business, tho preservation of 
their own rights. 

The doctrine might be true wlicn applied to the slaves of the 
Russian Autocrat, or the degraded subjects of the Grand Scign- 
ior, but it was a gross libel on the intelligent descendants 
of those brave men, who fonc;ht the battles of our country^s 
freedom. I know, said Mr \V., that there have always been 
ibandy in every age and every country, a few kind hearled sotUs^ 
that wera willing to undertake the task of governing and pro- 
tecting the ' dear people,' who, as they would have it believed, 
were unable to take care of themselves. IVoble kings and grand 
prelates have, in every age, been ready to watch over the people 
and take vet^ good care of them; — but, eaid Mr W., in this 
country we havo been taught that the people are the sovereign, 
and that the only trouble they have, is to get at the iruUi^ and 
rid themselves of their oppressors. 

But it may be asked what would you do in reference to the pub- 
lie press? Would you havo every editor come out and attack 
Masonry, abusing its members and denouncing its principles? 
Certainly not, nothing can be farther from our wishes, we do not 
cdl for partizan editors; but we do call, and we would hopr^ in u 
voice that shall be heard, upon the conductors of the public prc'HM 
to open their columns to a fair and temperate discussion of tlio 
merits and demerits of this important question. We only wiHh tli«it 
the public may be enabled to form opinions after having an oppor- 
tunity to hear both sides. It is a very trite, but indisputable maxirn, 
that a good thing will not suffer from investigatioii; thin bftifi{( pr*:- 
miscd it is difficult to conceive why the friends of the irir-fifution 
should have any objection to the strictest scrutiny. We b*;li#jv'!, «aid 
Mr W., that a large mass of information is in ex'mtfM^:*. in r^I;i- 
tion to the history and principles of Masonry, an/l our t\(:*>.'i:*'. in 
that the community may be put in possession of it; %h z.^V, t,%i),'.:.^ 
more, and as free citizens of a free republic w#; c*/i ji*:^ f.'.»:.:r.i 
less, certain ns we are, that this is the only w*/ i.-i wM^r, :^£ 
enlightened public sentiment can be formed. It i4*;;Jit *•^ \t r.- , 
the public have a right to demand and what f ;.#jy rr.i-.?. ;k.v; -v-j 
have. It cannot but be obvious to the y^JJ^/U: f\M y-.*-. r'^r.-:.::— rra. 
of the public press are in relation to thiji ^.-V^t y^- *-!,»:: >. 
some unwonted and universal influcivi^, Ta^i.- > .*-'.r.u2^-:A'-r 
arousedy their fears excited, and imagmaHkAyit ^.yx •a**. -«r-sv-^ 
for tho true cmubcm that produce fiueb ^tig^m¥t^\>A •*'.»-^s 



I 



14 

It is too lafe, said Mr W,, to talk of puttingilown fhts excite- 
meat, you might as well attempt to close llie crater of a burning 
volcano. The thing is otil, the people have lokea the alarm, ivnd 
it now becomes a must imperative ituly of all editors to enlighten 
their conslttuciits in regard to it, nlUying all unreasonable fears 
and presenting such facts and circumolanceB as will enable them 
to judge whether Masonry is dangerous or not. Should they 
not strive to allay the excitement by convincing their fellow cili- 
zens in a full exhibition of the institution that it is neither in its 
nature or effects, hostile totheir private or public interests? Are 
not Ihe sentiments and principles I advance, snid Mr W,, in ac- 
cordance with reason, and congenial to the constitution and genius 
ofour government? 

We propose no violent measures, we only wish to express the 
feelings of the People, that those who conduct the public press 
may know what they wish and what course of conduct they will 
approve and sustain. Are we to be branded as seditious and held up 
ns ' political incendiaries ^' We make no threats, we will not kid- 
nap any editor, we will not fire any printing ollice; we leave such 
business to those who have had experience in it, but we will bestow 
nur patronage when it shall tell on the cause of free inquiry and 
liberal and honest investigation. We ask no editor to be a par- 
lizan, but we do ask for fair play, and a fair hearing; and this is 
what we hope to obtain by the measure now to be adopted. The 
gentlemen of this Courention, many of whom are aged and vener- 
able men, have come from a great distance at much labor and 
e^Epcnse, and they have not come for amusement. They have 
come here to do ioToelhing in a cause which they believe vitally 
important. They have come here asking and expecting no reward 
but Ihe consciousness of having served their God and their coun- 
try. They would raise their voices in behalf of the freadom of 
the press. They would call on every editor to decide whether 
he will espouse the cause of the people, or of Masonry. In the 
language of the prophet they would say, ' How long halt ye be- 
tween two opinions, if the Lord be God, follow him, but if Baal, 
then follow him.' 

Dr Thomfso.v, of Charlestown, said he would embrace llie 

present opportunity to make a few remarks. 

It was frequently asked what were the objects of Anti-Maeoiid 
and how were they to be carried into effect? The question woU 
admit of being answered in various ways. He remarked he fl 
much pleased with the course the Convention had taken. F 
himself he could say with the utmost honesty and sincerity 
heart that he felt no prejudice against any Mason living. Tl 
Convention lind not assembled against anything of flesh and blo4 
but to contend against principalities and powers; against the spin 
of wickedness which dwelt in high places; it was to conte^ 
against a vast engine of power which might be made to act agiu 
tJie dearest rights and privileges of our native land; an eng 
which, though possibly il never \\a4, yc\ AWV m\%VA \>« (.urn^ 



H ■ 

^he most dreadrul harm. Our Tnthers never slopped to inquirfl^ 
vhether the royalistti around tliem were quiet and peaceable I 
men. They believed them to be such. Yet wheh Ihcy saw thai J 
bwaa possible or probable that they might do iujury they did not 1 
He still. They saulTed tyranny in the breeze alar off; and they I 
cruehed it in the scrm. He asked, ' have the descendants of I 
thera mighty minda degeneral-.d?' Has the spirit which animated I 
them, bucome in these latter days extinct? Do not men ofmightj^ I 
minds exist among us who may turn this vast engine to the de* M 
■traction of liberty? He continued, that nmon^ Ibis gil\ed and ■ 
enlightened people, the only power was mind ; mmd could only be M 
kcted upon by mind. It was the lever of the enthusiastic philoso- ■ 
pher who said, ' give me a place whereon to stand and I will moTf :fl 
the world.' This, and this alone was the lever by which public ■ 
opioion could be acted upon. In the business before the Convene. ■ 
Uon he wished everything to be baaed upon the rock of truth, Hs ■ 
would that the pithlic should be fully enlightened concerning th« I 
dark secretBofMastinry, The Press, insload of doing this, had en> -I 
deavoured to quiet public apprehension, btit all such allcinpta I 
would prove vain. It might as well essay to quiet (he rockings oC I 
the Sicilian sea when it was shaken by the convulsions of Etna, at 1 
KtleJnpl to check examination. He did not wish for excitement; I 
he wished for investigation. He had watched the conspiracy af° J 
blood, of treason; but still it was not necessary lo have any cxcitft^ I 
meat. If Iho facts alleged were untrue it was easy for agrand en^ ■ 
campmant of the Masons of Massacliuaetta to declare publicly I 
Ibe falsehood of statements so publicly made by those who had at* 1 
tacked the foundations and principles of theirorder. If they wen I 
false they couldbe easily confuted. In the absence of such coiifu- I 
tation the inference was plain ihat these statements Vere true. I 
They (the Convention) stood asguardians oft beirchililreji'mighlK M 
Ax fathers, as protectors of the rights of unborn millions, they M 
grasped the interests of posterity with a deep intensity of feeling. M 

If these statements were false, why should the Masons of thw I 
Commonwealth witbold information of their lalsehood, when it I 

I 80 easily given? Why should even the Lodges of Boston i 
hesitate lo give such information? They alone might have stayed I 
the excitement; but nsyct they have remained passive. The exr I 
citemenl so easy lo have been quelled, still goes on nolwithstand* I 
ing it is in Iho power of the Masons of this cily to silence it forp 1 
ever. Instead of this, their actions have been but the mere \ 

ig of lullaby. They are silq^t concerning the sliocking oathi I 
and ridiculous and blasphemous ceremonies imputed to them and I 
the enormities sanctioned by th.c laws of their order. I 

They should direct public opinion^ not follow it. They should I 
join in ihisemancipation of the human mind from the thraldom (|i|Ml 
error. When the mind shall be freed by truth, then it wiU be liwl 
indeed. If those who are under the influence of these awful aoAV 
terrible bonds could be fre ed from their chains, it would to <|iB 
them an ^^^^^^^^^M^^B^^^^HjH 



I 



16 

lie coDtiiiucd: I am iiwarc thai tliaec wha Mm.KODB if 
in tliia warfaic of trulh against error, will, must sulTer. I 
no diwcspcci to lUo chnir, but you, Mt PrcBident, have suSer 
I have Buflerei!; olhers have suScred. But may wo nrjt i^a^, '. 
President, that ' wo reckon the sufTcrin^ia of this present tioisij 
not worthy to be named in comparison with tbolglpry.tvhicli.sbl 
be revealed ' lo our country, when thU unrigbtuoua nod bltup^ 
mous institution, Avhich assumes to itself the hjgh prcrogalivcsfl 
govemmeDt, and whoso enonnilics arc wriucn in chnractVf^fl 
Iiluod, and every other fetter ivhich binds the huintui mind, 
bo broken. 



The motion to oniend, by inserting names, i 
the Report unanimousiy nccepted. 



withdrawn, i 



, The Committee nppoinlcd to draft an Adiitrss lo tlu fiopU^ 
t3ii» Commonuieallk, expressive of the views of this CrinventioRflf 
Ijie character and tendency of the Masonic Ineckuttoo, mi 
Report.* On motion for its acceptance — 

Mr Bowman, of Cambridge, moved, (hat the word mtial ' 
hring ub into uniflonsant collision,' he stricken out. He did n 
for one, wish lo involve the private fricndshipfi which had e: 
nud did exist, between those opposed to Masonry and Muo4 
thcniselven. Although he could not exchange Ihc masonic gi^ 
■fae still wished to give Ihc friendly squeeze, He preferred usiq 
the word may, instead nf 'ntisl bring us into unpleasant coUiHioai 
because he would nnt anticipate the consequences of the adaa 
(his Convention. He hoped no such bad consfquer 
follow. He wished for pence, not excitement and animosity, 
believed the timo would come when Masons themselves wm 
look wilb candor op our proceedings, and applaud the result. 

Mr Rrcoi.Es, of Troy, said he came not to bring peadi 
but a sword where error was the aneriy. Thtisu who had oppoS 
cd masonic principles had heen traduced. In this contest for nglAf* 
he should not shrink from the discharge of a enered duty, If« 
held his charter of rights from a higher source than that of ma- 
c lodges. It waa from the constitution of his country, won 
by our fathers. He did not wish to smooth over this matter. Tliai 
■Report was but a second declaration of independence, and n 
were about lo prove whether we were worthy of our ei 
subject should not be treated with mealy mouths. Vi 
he expected and need. Our opponents e.^claim, ' why trouH 
ye me?' They ciy" peace, peace, but 'there is no peace (orlly 
wickpd.' Tlie qBcetion wa% whether our liheitics were to he dc 
.fllroyod or not. A citizen had been ahduclcd from his hoini 
wife, and children, and the perpetrators had been auccorad K 
puslaincd. His cause had tiecome that of the conslilulion t 
the law. Ofl this head ho ntiuld carry the war into the e 

• Sto Biotfeiinga of tlic Convcnlioc, page B. 



17 

camp. He did not care to please; he expected to didpleaso 
them. He thought we had come into this hall to erect an altar 
Qn which to place our lives and liberties. No question of greater 
moment had bee g ag itated since the assembly of our fathers in 
this same hall, toMflmee the wrongs of British aggression. The 
flames kindled oiRnB altar would burst across the Atlantic — 
reach the Pacific, and light up the dark secrets and midnight meet- 
ings and unholy rites of Masonic conclaves. This question, like 
every other, has two sides. On this he had assumed his. The 
vast extent of Masonic influence was not yet known nor appre- 
ciated. It grasped at everything valued and honorable. It had 
sought to identify itself with the glory that consecrated Bunker 
HiH. It was by the rites of Masonic irreligion tjiat the corner 
stone of the monument now erecting, was laid.* Better were it 
to remain as it now is — a wreck — than be an insult to freemen. 
He asked pardon for his zeal; but he felt as if he was in part a 
champion for this cause;, as such, with pure aspirations for justice, 
and for his country's rights, he could not but exhibit zeal. If 
one citizen had been illegally abducted and murdered with impu- 
nity, another might be. The Hfe and liberty of one had been 
assailed, would not those of others be equally in danger.^ Why 
has not the order of Masonry defended itself from the charges 
made against it.^ They say Free Masonry is the handmaid of 
Religion. It is false. It is its opposite. If Free Masons can 
prove their order to be of Divine origin, let them try; and if they 
did do it, he (Mr Ruggles,) would not be found fighting against 
God. 

[The remarke made by this gentleman are but a slight sketch, 
us the Reporter was situated in the gallery, where he could not 
hear distinctly, and he (the Reporter,) knows he has done him 
imperfect justice.] 

Mr TuAcuER, of Wrentham, who drafted the Report, was very 
willing, and indeed preferred to adopt the amendment proposed 
by the gentleman from Lexington. And it was adopted by the 
Convention. 

Col. BuRBANK, of Worcester, complimented the able Report 
which had been made by the Committee. He would suggest, 
however, another amendment. He alluded to that paragraph 
which contained the expression ^dumb dogs that cannot bark.' 

The President read in the Report the following sentence. 

^ Who are our sentinels and watchmen but those who manage 
the Public Press. But our editors with a few honorable excep- 
tions relative to this subject have been '^ like dumb dogs that can- 
not bark."' 

* The comer ptone was laid mawaically by Most Worshipful John Abbot, 
Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts, in presence of the Grand 
Lodges of New England. Lafayette was a spectator of the ceremony. 

Publisher. 
3 




he dig- 

bis un- 
tie Be- 

^^ 



I 



Col. BcRBiRK said, the proposiliou before ihe Convention 
was of a dignified nature and should be Irealed io a dignified 
nanner. lie thought that the expreasion used leHsened the dig- 
nity of the address and might excite resentment. He waa,tl)er«- 
fore, ill fttvor of such amendment as would ifp^^ ■< more 
of (he sober principles and feelings of that miy. 

The President suggested as a substitute, tlie words, ' 
pcnrs to US unreosouabty reserved;' which Col. Burba>k,< 
proved. 

Mr IticE, of Norlhborough, was opposed to the amendra 
The application of the words, he did nut think improper, and tl 
were taken from that Holy Book which we all were taught to 
reverence. We read they were spoken by Jehovah • of his un- 
faithful servants, and he thought what that Great and Infinile Be- 
ing spoke of his prophets, could not be considered disrespectT ' 
when applied by (his Convenliou to those editors of newspsn 
who refused to print the truth on this subject. 

Col. BuRBANK, replied thai ho took no exceplion to the « . ^_ 
but he doubted the expediency of (he application. He (bought 
it advisable to adopt nothing that might have a tendency to irri- 
tate the feelings of ihe conductors of the press; il was better to 
persuade and conciliate. He hoped the ameadnient would pte- 

The vote was put and the amendment was rejected. 

Mr Bowman, of LeHington, moved a reconsideration of 4 
vote. 

The Convention refused to reconsider by a large majority. 

Mr Walker, of Boston, moved for another verbal amendm 

Dr Phelps, of Boston, thought it a preferable course ti 
commit the Report to the same Committee. Considerable t 
would thereby be saved (o the Convention. He 
of opinion was highly desirable in (his ■case, and he did notdoill 
when it came before ihem again, it would be unanimously except- 
ed. He was gratified with (he ability displayed in the Report 
and warmly approved of ila general senliments. 

Dr Thompson, of Charles(Qwn, said that in justice to his own 
feelings be could not permit this subject to pass away ii 
The only object before this honorable body was the public g 
Ho would express to Ihe committee the high sense which he ll 
of (he jus(ice which (hey had done to the cause in which we wi 
engaged. The cause of christian charity was advocated hf4 
able document in the exposition of a subject intensely iMereallr 
in Ihe public view. He had before observed that it was freqnfli 
ly asked what was (he object of this Convention ? To this, ij 



'His 



Icbmen arc blind ; they are til IgnoraDt. tll*7V 



19 

addren had given a complete, a satisfactorj answer. They (the 
committee) in their address had presented to the public the 
information needed, a clear exposition of the facts required. 
They had not, neither would he, impeach the motives of any one. 
He would use, and the committee had used, duo ciiarity in relation 
to the motives of alL But why should such an order grasp such 
a power, and the community look on with such silent unconcern? 
"^he people were ignorant in this matter. Of those with whom he 
had conversed many were totally blind to their danger; this 
would enlighten them. Those who were bound in the toils of 
maaonic influence would look to the address for authority, to free 
themselves from those toils. They would feel, as this Convention 
felt; they would participate in all their honest measures and act 
aa they had acted. For himself, he gave his most heart-felt ap- 
probation of its language and its sentiments. Inquirers would 
now be no longer ignorant of what we came up hither to do. It 
gave to opponents of our views a direct opportunity to confront 
them. If the assertions of the Convention were false, now was 
the time to prove them so, and let this Convention be considered 
as a aet of low, disorganizing men ; a time<;serving collection 
of office-seekers, who were lost to a sense of what was due to 
Americans ; a Convention who wished to turn the world upside 
down for their profit. But if, on the other hand, they were cor- 
rect and honest in their purposes, they should be deemed patriots, 
and not time-serving politicians. It was a mighty question ; one 
which would be deeply pondered by American citizens. If the 
allegations of this Convention were false, let them be exposed ; 
if true, they were of vital, yes, of tremendous consequence. 
The motion for the recommittal of the address was then adopted. 



The Report of the Committee on the antiquity of Speculative 
Free Masonry, now came up, by previous appointment. 

Ma HoBART, of Leicester, said that in relation to the alleged 
antiquity of Free Masonry, he would ofier a very few remarks. 
Masons had claimed Saint John the Baptist as a patron of their 
order. Whether this was the case, he could not toll; but he 
thought he could discover in the New Testament something 
which looked like the existence of Masonry in those times. Wc 
read that in the days of Herod the Tetrarch, on the celebration 
of his birth-day, the daughter of Herodius danced before him and 

£ leased Herod. Whereupon he promised, with an oath, to give 
er whatsoever she would ask. And she, being instructed of her 
mother, said, ^ Give me John the Baptist's head in a charger.' And 
when Herod heard it, he was exceeding sorry; nevertheless, for 
his oath's sake, ho commanded it to be given her. And by his 
order John was beheaded in prison, and his head brought in a 
charger to the damsel. Afler this Herod stretched forth his 
hand to vex certain of the church. And upon a set day, arrayed 
in Fojal apparel, he sat upon his throne and made an oration 




r 



20 

unto the pen)ile. And immediately the aagel of the LotA 
liim, because he gnvp not Goil the glory; and he was eatei 
worms and gave up titu gh^Bt. 

Now there ie much in this thai looks like Free Masonry. V 
thcr Saint John belonged to the order, does not Battsfacti 
appear. ]Jut if the Masona had claimed Herod for their Gru 
Master, many would have thought it as near the truth. 

Mr CiiURCuri.1., of Milton, 9uid that hi; admired the spirit i 
iibiRly cviiicod in the Report, but that he was not prepared ti 
assent to aomo of the fartn asserted in it. He had strong dauM 
whether the Masonic institution wns not in existence hefore A 
beginning oflhe last century. The inception, or root ofthw eri 
he helicved, was of earHer date than that stated by the Coi 
ico, out of which the iniquity complninedof had grown. H 
rond n book or at.itutc. in the Norman French, against Masunr, 
prPmiaing that it had passed more thwi two centuries since, and l)u 
the language was one of the badges of servitude Ictl by Willisi 
the Conqueror upon iha subjects of England. This statute "■ 
of Masons meeting in ' Chapters and Congregaiionn,'' and of 
that thoy should not be so hotden under the pains and pen 
of felony. He was willing to allow Masonry this claim to 
quity, and all llic credit they could derive from the circumstance 
But what credit did they receive from it ? It appeared that I 
this distant glimpse we have of them, they were employed in d' 
lurbing the public peace, in plotting against the rights of t 
community, in subverting justice, so that the government i 
compelled to paM a special act to suppress their proceedinga, i 
der the pains and penalties of felony, which was death. He h 
no doubt they had been eTterminated by this statute; perbapf 
wf)re mostly hung, and possibly Ih« order renovated aiul l 
to appear again in 1717, the date of their antiquity as stBt 
the Report. He had Iiot a copy of the statute with him; he h 
seen ir in the Law Library at Dedham; but he was sure ofhis A 

Mr W«ni>, who drafted the Report, replied that he * 
acquainted with ibo'Malute referred to by the ^cntleawa fm 
Mihon. In examining into the pretended antiquity of specnl 
tivs Free ^tasonry two yeari^ ago, i*. had attracted his atteni' 
and he now bad in bid hands a copy of ibo act, then token, 
was prepared to show that that act referred to lidntrin^ mason 
to op^raHvt, and not speculative masons; and waa intend* 
suppress their meeting in congregations and assemblies, to < 
bine for raising the price of wages. With pernuaeion he n 
proceed to reed it. 

Mr Churchill asked for the date of the statute beibre bi 

Mr W\Rn replied thai it was 1350, 

Mr CiiLRcHiLi. rejoined that U was not the one h> which I 
alluded. 

Mr Ward explained tlial he waa aware of the fact, but thai | 
was necf^Bry for liiiii t" read this statute, as it was aJhided to il 



21 

the statute to which the gentleman did refer. He would premise 
in explanation, that, in olden times Edward the Third dealt with 
Englishmen of that day, as George III. would have dealt with 
Americans of his day — as if they were his slaves. A plague had 
swept away a fearful portion of the English population ; and the 
scarcity of laborers caused all classes of mechanics to demand 
higher wages. Edward had several castles and magnificent edi- 
fices in building; and to make his money hold out, must compel 
the masons and mechanics to work at the old rates. To effect 
this he issued an ordinance and enforced it by his sheriiTs, who 
returned masons for the king's buildings as they are wont to re- 
turn jurors for the king's courts. This was equally agreeable to 
the Ix^rds of Parliament as to himself; and accordingly it was 
enacted A. D. 1350 that ^ as servants unwilling afler the pesti- 
lence to serve without taking excessive wages had been required 
to serve in their accustomed places at the rate they had received 
in the 20th year of Edward III.; and as it is given to the king to 
understand in this present parliament, that the servants have 
paid no regard to the said ordinance, but to ihcir ease do with- 
draw from the service of great men and others, unless they have 
livery and wages to the double or treble of that they were wont 
to take in the said 20th year and before, to the great damage of 
the great men, &lc. be ordained and established the things un- 
derwritten. 

Chap. 1 Fixes the day and year wages of Faivn Servants. 

Chap. 2 Fixes the price of threshing all sorts of grain by the 
quarter. 

Chap. 3 Prescribes the wages of several sorts of artificers and 
laborers to the number of 30, amongst whom carpenters and 
nuuons are particularly specified. 

Chap 4 Requires artificers to make oath that they will use 
their crafts as they had done in the 20th year of the same 
Edward III. Ste RuffheaiVB Eng:lish StaluUs, vol. 1 , p. 2.5 1 . 

And now, said 3Ir Ward, we come to the act mentioned by 
the gentleman from Milton. Seventyfour years afYer the enact- 
ment of this statute which is plainly applied only to handicrafts- 
men and servants, Henry VI. in parliament at Westminster 
ordained 

«3 Henry VI. cap. 1, A. D. 1424. 

* Ma^onn shall not confederal r in Chapters or Congrei^ations. 
Whereas, by the yearly congregations and confederacies made 
by the Masons in their general assetablies, the good course and 
effect of the Statute of Laborers [2oth Edward III., the statute 
above alluded to,] be openly violated and broken, in subversion 
of the law and to the great damage of all the Commons; our sove- 
reign lord the King, w^illing in this case to provide a remedy, by 
the advice and consent aforesaid, and at the special request of 
the coounoDS, bath ordained and established that such chapters 
and congregations shall not be hereafler holden; and if such be 



HP 

^H made, they that cause such chaptere and congregations to 
^H assembled and holdcn, if thereof ihey be couvict, shall be judg 
^V for felDiiy: and that the other maaona thnt come to such chapti 
^B or congregaliona be punished by imprisonment of iheir bodies, 
and made fine and raneorae at Ihe hiog's will.' Chap. 3, Jutt. 
p. 99. 

This [turning to Mr Churcbill, who ussented,] ia the statute 
to which the gentleman alluded. It plainly refers to workings 
masons or stone masons. I challenge any man to turn its edgo, 
or break ite point, or show one particle of evidence to the conv 
trary, except it proceed from the vainglorious boastings of ihB- 
mystic order itself; which is not evidence, the witness being con- 
fessedly interested, and now stands publicly convicted, nfshHmfr* 
less duplicity and of atrocious falsehood, in its book of Cunstitu^ 
tions and its authorized publications. The hour for adjournment 

»had now arrived, and he would not proceed. 
Mr CuuRcitiLi. remarked that the statute quoted wes of tha 
same date and reign, and read like that he had seen. He prfr' 
sumed it might be the same. He had not the statute at handi' 
to refer to. 

Mr W*RD suggested that the volume containing it could pro-- 
bahly be found in the Boston Law Library, and he (Mr C.)coul4l 
examine it before the Convention met in the aflernoon. . ' 



The Convention met at 3 o'clock, according to adjournmeot. 
The consideration of the Report of the Committee on the aiUi-^ 
quity of speculative Free Masonry, was resumed. 

Mr Bowman, of Cambridge, spoke at some length on the vabr^ 
ject. He alluded to various secret societies, orders, and coioj, 
binations, mentioned in history; the Crusaders, Jesuits, Kniahl. 
Templars, Uluminees, Carbonari, and Jacobin clubs, &c. 1I9 
thought secret and selfish combinations, with the spirit and prta^ 
cipleaof Masonry, bad existed in all ages. He mentioned teveraT 
kings and great men, who were said to be Masons. The Duka, 
of Orleans was Grand Master of the Masons in the time of ths, 
French revolution. He was interrupted several times as viraBF- 
B. dering too far from the question, and finally sat down without' 
. coming to a regular conclusion in his remarks. 

Mr WdRn now called on Mr Churchill for the volume contain- 
ing the statute to which he had referred. 

Mr Churchill replied that he had not sent for it, but Kay 
gentleman of the Convention might. He did not wish to retud 
their proceedings. 

Mr W^RD then observed, that as all reference to the volume had 
been withdrawn, he yould state that the mysteries of Masonry 
must be dated back no farther Ihan the year 1717. In that yeaf 
ibur companies of stone masons, who were left of thoa« associ- 
ated in rebuildine London after the great fire of 1666, met, lb« 



23 

lodge that worked on St Paul's Church being at the head, and 
formed the Grand Lodge of London, in February, and elected 
theur officers June 24, A. D. 1717. With a view to fill up their 
ranks, and to increase their importance, they voted to accept men 
of other trades and professions ns members. See Preitofij LaW' 
rte, Hardity Tannehilly and DermolVs Mimun Rezon^ Masonic 
writers. Three years they struggled, accommodating the Rosi- 
crucian pretensions to the emblems of a handicrafl Mason, and then 
in 1720 burnt their papers for the benefit of the mystery . See each 
of the mentioned writers. They give out that this bonfire was 
made * 6y 9ome too scrupuknu hreihren,'* who feared the secrets of 
Masonry would be exposed in the book of constitutions about to 
be published. But the smoke of that fire was not thick enough to 
envelope the origin of the mystic order in impenetrable obscu- 
rity. This volume of mock constitutions, is the basis of all Ma- 
aoDic history; and its delusive statements have been copied and 
magnified until the mystic wonder has grown beyond the size and 
power of the fabled monsters of antiquity. From the time of its 
birth, the Iving wonder began to run to and fro in the earth, 
wherever British commerce could convey it, and charters for 
holding Masonic Lodges were everywhere sold at a cash price, 
and an annual stipend, by the Grand Lodge of London. In 
A. D. 1729, Free Masonry was first introduced into the East In- 
dies; 1730 the Grand Lodge of Ireland was formed; 1731 a pa- 
tent from England was sent to erect a Lodge at the Hague; 1733 
it was introduced into 'North America, at Boston; 1736 at Cape 
Coast in Africa, and at Geneva, in Europe. The first Grand Mas- 
ter in Scotland was elected in the same year. The higher de- 
grees are first heard of in France, in 1 740, by one Alexander Ram- 
say. They were introduced into the United States, through the 
medium of the Jews, in 1760. They first assume a tangible shape 
here, in 1796 and 1797. It had been said, that the deluded Hen- 
ry VI. was a Mason, and that Oliver Cromwell was. Nebu- 
chadnezzar might also have been a Mason, and he believed one 
story was about as true as the other. The history of Free Ma- 
sonry was fruitful in interest, abounding with stories and tales, 
bat when fairly examined and understood, would be found filled 
with error and falsehood. 

Mr Churchill stated that he should not be tenacious or re- 
fractory upon the subject; he had rather give up an opinion in 
the present case, than be obstinate. But he would offer some 
reasons to show that he had not been entirely mistaken in his 
Tiews. The statute stated that there should be no assemblages 
of Masons in Chapters and congregations. He did not recollect 
the allusion to labareny but the statute might have been variously 
stated at difierent times; he read it in the Norman French. If the 
phraseology was different it was not irrevelant to his purpose of 
explanation. 

Well then, Masons did then labor, and suppose the statute 




I 

I 



I 



I 

I 



una mode against tutn-king mi 
'.l\y for unlawful purpoaCB. 



24 

10 assembled togethei 
latule was 405 yean 
and il was hard to say that Masonry had not existed 150 yei 
That alalute did not refer to all such qualities of Masons aa ni 
ejust. The principles and forma of Free Masonry might fan 
then existed, and been confined to the workin;; Mi *" '' 

labor of theao Masons were innocent, what was t 
for the punishment of duathf If they were not merely work! 
ov operative Masons, then, of course, the penalties of fell 
would be inflicted. The term Chapter, also was peculiarly 
cable to meelingaof Free Masons; churchmen also might pitasil 
use it, but he knew of no other nsaembliea of p 
were designated in this manner. 

He had suid more about this point, because he wished to 
no further than he was sure. He was cautious of making a 
step. Of the detestibic character, the iniquitous principles, 
evil tendency of Free IMasoDry, he was lhorou(;hly convint 
Of its possible antiquity he had no certain opinion, and to 
the fact was comparatively unimportant. Vice though b( 
was not less hateful, nor virtue less lovely for being youthfil 
If antiquity could render crime respectable, murder was mi 
illustrious, for it could trace its origin to the lirst born of 
humuD race. He thought it not important for us to decide 
Masonry was but about 100 years old ; but it was important tl 
we should not make a wrong decision. 

Mr WiRO thought it was important to know whether Ml 
was of Divino origin; whether it received the patronage 
sanction of the holy, wise, and good of all ages from the begin- 
ning of the world, as their approved authors, orators, and divines 
had asserted; for it was a powerful argument, that what the 
patriarchs and apostles practised and taught could not be eviC]' 
That a society, claiming the glories of Free Masonry, shot " 
have existed for ages, unnoticed by any writer, sacred or profai 
noble or contemptible, ia wholly incredible. To say nothing 
former centures, but confining our attention to the three last, tne 
Puritans, Presbyterians, CabaTtsts, Rosicrucians, Gypses, Necro- 
mancers, Alchymists, and the Jesuits, are liberally, and often 
noticed, by various authors; but Free Masonry has eot so much 
as a name until the eighteenth century, when it is frequently 
discanted on, with an interest and copiousness increasing to thii 
day. This fact, to a sound historical scholar is enougti lo die- 
solve the airy castles of Masonic pretension to antiquity. Of^ 
this same tenor is the fact, that Free Masonry and Papacy cu 
not dwell together in peace; but wc hear not a word of their dii 
agreement till the eighteenth century. Certainly the Caihglit 
religion is older than 100 years; and if Free Masonry be mud 
Bbovo thai, how did it {ireviously escape a conflict, which haj 
never ceased since it first commenced, A. D. 1730 to 1140^ 
The canons of the Romish church require full and free confe* 
Sioa lo the priests from every good Catholic; the oaths of Freoij 



25 

Masonry require absolute secrecy upon the transactions of the 
brethren of the lodge room, from every good Mason. These 
canons and oaths nowhere abide without discord. Therefore 
the time when they first fell out and contradicted each other, 
must have been near the beginning of one or both of them. 
That time is determined by the Pope's bulls, A. D. 1738 and 
17S9. 

In regard to the statute of Henry VI., Mr W. stated that the 
term chaptevj in that age, was commonly used as synonymous 
with congregations or general assemblies. It was not then 
necessarily applied to Masons or churchmen. There might be a 
chapter of carpenters; if this Convention had been held m those 
days, we should have been called a chapter of Anti-Masons. 
That this statute referred to stone masons or laborers, he thought 
was clear. It alluded, in its body, to a former statute regulating 
the prices of wages; it therefore intended operative masons,* 
and not speculative Masons; not men who had a tyler to stand at 
the door of their hall with a drawn sword; not men who had taken 
such horrid oaths; not individuals who professed to see three 
great lights; not those who called their order the handmaid of 
religion. The order of speculative Free Masonry was grounded 
in the year 1717, and from thence originated all the chicanery of 
the matter. He should submit it to the CoAvention. 

The vote to aocept the Report on the antiquity of speculative 
Free Masonry was then put, and passed unanimously. 



EVENING SESSION. 

The Convention met at 6 o'clock, P. M. according to adjourn- 
ment. The committee raised to take into consideration the 
expediency of sending delegates from this Commonwealth to the 
NATIONAL CONVENTION, reported in favor of the 
meajsure. 

On motion the Convention resolved themselves into a Commit- 
tee of the Whole, Dr Abraham R. Thompson, of Charlestown, 
in the chair. 

• The viewi of Mr Ward tre fully adopt e by Judge Coke, who gives Uie 
followiiig opinion on this ancient statute. 

* Zd Hmry VL 1424. 

•AD Ihe statutes concerning laborers, before thi^ act, an«l whereuxto 

THIS ACT DOTH REFER, are repealed by the statute of 5 Elizabeth cap. 4, 

about A. D. I5S2, whereby the cause and end of making ibn act i9 taken 

away, and consequently the act is become of no force ; for eetsante ratuni€ 




b^^Wtfae alSoSiV re^ Jid*""Th^fore thi* wiold be P"if "/-f/*y'i''^i^«* 
of jiutieesur the peace.' Ih.titutw. Paii 111. fol. 19, 




Co!. McnBicK, of Worcester, (President of the ConTention) 
then addrcBsed the Chair. He sniil that the Report, and the 
resolution accompanying it, now suhmided lo the Conventioa, 
suggested that there was existing a great evil in the land, oiid il 
proposed a remedy to be apphed for the purpose of effecting its 
removal. He should not diacusa iiHrticulorly the details of that 
Report, hut should oSer some ohgervat ions vindicating the opiaion 
that llie community were now oppressed with the existence of an 
institution, evil and dangerous in its tendency, and that the renie- 
dy proposed in the resolution was appropriate to the diiliculty 
which il proposed to remove. 

He coiisioered Gpeculative Free Masonry lo ha a great evil; 
t'ur all its claims lo our support, our respect and our alTection, 
reeled upon assuiliplions which had no foundation iu fact. The 
lofty prelensiona of that inslitulion lo our veneration, our respect, 
and gratitude, could scarcely fail to be known to us all, for its 
praises had unceasingly swelled from the lips of its orators, and 
its enchantments sent home to the hearl io the song of its poets. 
We are told alike hy its eulogists and its historians, that its origidr 
was coeval with man's habitation on the earth, and we tind it a~ 
oardingly arrogating to itself, that it has heen the nurBIDg RtotT 
holding in its wide embrace the exalted patriots, the leai 
scholars and revercni^ divines, not only of this land and age, bat' 
of every land and of every age. It claims lo go bock to the dawn 
of crcolion, and that its root was planted in the garden of Eden 
hyihe father of our race: that, unwithered by time, and unscathed 
hy age, it had ever since continued to grow and flourish, stretch- 
ing forth its spreading arms and branches till it had embraced 
and oversluidowed the world — till all mankind might he gathered 
as brethren io peace and affection beneath its pervading influ- 
ence, ond sit down rejoicing, protected, and comforted, in the 
heauty and safety of its shade. Thai, favored of heaven, it had 
gained new Jtlrength from every assault, and had heen able tn 
spread wider ailB richer bounties as il overcnme and conquereJ 
every new opposition. If indeed those assertions were not the 
mere extravagant assertions of thoughtless enthusiasm and ranlu- 
rous credulity, if they were facts as certain as its pretensioofi 
were lofty, then indeed would Free Masonry be a blessiog m 
mankind, and ils existence would he Secure against all the vio- 
lence with which passion might assail or hostility attack it. I'be 
strongest ctTorlB of us, creatures of a day, would be too feeble to 
shake its lirm foundations, far less sufficient to rock il lo its ruin. 
The humble struggling^ of humanity would faint avvay before its 
almost eternal strength. 

But all the assertions of the hoasled antiquity of spcculativt 
Free Masonry are false. Thnt inaiiiution ivas not born in lh« 
olden time. It sprung not up amidst the happiness and primitive 
purity of Eden; nor did it originate with the venerable palriarcht 
and reverend prophets of old. They never thougbtof Ihose pre* 
tensions with which Ihey uie now said lo be familiar; and litd^| 



^27 

did the royal monarch of Israel, when he erect od and dfMlicrited 
to the Most Hi^h that celrbrated tcinplt; c»f' .Icnisalfiii, which 
was the pride and glory of iiis own nge us it is tli<! wnndiT of this, 
foresee that an institution like that of speculative l''r«M* Masmiry 
would be palmed off upon remote and distant fif^ncrationx, as tiic 
oflsprin^ of his exalted mind, aided by the prinrejy conns* I -< fif 
Hiram of Tvrc, and of Hiram the son oi'thf widfiw. 'I'lsc-v iiad 
nothing to do with its ori£rin> nor had thf «ai:its «if a iat«'r ^^i-ncr.i- 
tion, whose natal days are now selected as thi- linurs of masonic 
festivitv and celebration, anvthini; to do with its transini^^'^ion to 
their posterity. .No! Sp'?cnlative FVee ^Tasonrv '.vas of inod'-rn 
origin. It sprun;;^ 'ip amid tlie fictions an<l contrivaii*' ■• -/f the 
ccnturv which has scarcely now closcfd, and tiif fhitt.' fif its lj'"»in- 
nmg could be ascertained and fj\»d, with as niufii f-a-i*: and ct;r- 

taintv as anv other historical event. Thi< r'')iiv«*iiti«jn, hv the 
adoption of a report <..n this subject, had f:l»"ently. \'',r th'jrii-'iJviH, 

determiDed thi« question: and there <"'iiiid be nr-ithfr oi-ra-i'in 

nor propriety in spending much time upon atopic »i|> 'O wliicli trie 

deliberate senscr nf the Convention had air*, adv \if*-u '•.\';r«-'« d. 

Yet, perhaps, he rni2ht be permitted to advrt to th" '■iirj'd.-ir fa^'t. 

that in the Mark Ma-t». r's df^ree. v.hiclj i»rot*r-j's to hs«v«; \*'t n 

expressly lounded byKiniz S ilom- n at th*.- building ol'tlie n !•,,;<;. 

that monarch i* rerTes'/ntf'd a- reli* ar-iny' to iii • 'ii-'.- lif' ',*«:«; 

workmen ''•ne oftlie !?riranle- of 'rir Saviiiir to ;i--i-i:.'''. *■' ■ ".^ 

muring and ir.dnce tlj'-m !• ^ij!.inii--!-.n — a i i* ••'" ' ,*.* 

that he co'jid '^■\:'res-? !nr'i*'-lf in la'^oajr': ■■■■fii''ii li' •• • ■■■•••• "'* " '• 

till centtjriei 'iftrr fi> l»-fi.- had 'ruin':;!'.-'.' ^ > ?>- .« -. .'■. *'•'• *•■.'• 

inetrv. Vf-T^'.i« 'j- '.< a*»«'ir'!iT'. wr ?*'''#•.'' 'J p ■*:- •: 

and 8up5K'rt' ."i '.y Tri*.- rr.v-f: •-.•■; ■• " • .' I '■ *' f \ 

which wo»j1- : . -. -: .- : .tr i\:i, v. .'-■. '.t- 

dulitv wh! . *. •: 12. a ' ' •. • i' r-- 

ranee. 
There -Si-* =:.:•:' • ••'' '. • 

antiquity ■»;- ' .:.>!".-••"';■;-' ' 

«o falseiy *Jr: -: . 1 . : ":-• .-.'i - - ;•• • 

stitution wL. -. . ;•■• :. , ;• : \'. • "■ 

lapse of h-ar.--'-. :- ■- ' " ■•. • • ' 

evince our r.:.^" I" '"-•■. 

bloated an'i ;:•'-•••.•" » « 

work at lea*! ^, :* -. r i .- ■ >. - 

in the land %r.c •-. ■ 
If Free yi^ '- 

which its adv '.5r-:- \ 

and how is it t \ -- - -^ 

minds .^ The-?'-- •- - *^' - 

contain the »ii-' " • ■ • 

have abjured :'-«:' • • . : 
lieve fraught -^ r - c. • i » • . . 
and hereafter — * :* '- '. uff- 
gion. These di«5^.:'^fci'** ti.v%- ,-. - 



•r • 
/ 






1 

n 



nation which has held anri still claims tn hold the power to gunri!, 
prottct, nnd ilerend its own rights, and to repel and punish all 
its nL'gressnrs. But, nre Ihcne disclosures true? You have ex- 
pressed in terms which cannot he mistuken, your convictioai 
on this subject. In ihe adoption of the re]i"rl of one of ynur c 
mittees upon this subject, you hnve expressed thai no dnubl 
remnin, that the institution of Free MaHonry has been fully opep- 
ed to the public gaze. It is well that you hove done eo. The 
'evident-e that the disclosures of Mitnons who have aeparated 
Ibcinselves fiin-ver from the craft aijd from the inMitulion, are true, 
is of the (nuat full and Batiafaciory charicter. Their repreoeDla- 
tious are supported by every consideration whii-h is calrrulaied (o 
give weight, and ore corrolfcrated by a variety and fulneea of prool 
which ought to force convictica on Ihe mind of scepticism itself. 
In every quarter of the count /y, members have broken away Irom 
Ihe bondage in which they '.lave hitherto been held, and ibcrs '»^m 
an entire uniformity and concurrence in their testimony. Tli«M^| 
witneicieB do not belong to one class of men, nor to one denominap^^ 
tion of Christians. They are found among the educated and the 
humble — the bench, the bar, the pulpit, and the tield, have all 
sent witnesses forth in this holy cause, who hnve lestitied, like 
the saints of old, wiih one accord, and like them, too, their testi- 
mony is irne. You have done well in believing them. After all 
thai has been disclosed — after Ihe full declamtions of the mem- 
bere of the Le Roy Convention, men whoso reputations are above 
and beyond ihe reach of impeachment; after the frequent and va- 
rious disclosures in various and distant parts of our country; after 
the solemn assertions of witnesses testifying under the responsi- 
bility of every legal and moral responsibility in courts of justice, 
there is no longer occasion for additional proofs or further evi- 
dence. Though I know that those diaclosuies are true, I feel 
how iecble must be the testimony here of n solitary individcal like 
myself, when added to that great mass of proofs which the public 
already hold in their possession; yet 1 would not Ihat this occasion 
should pass without dolemnly pledging myself in the midst of this 
crowded audience, that those disclosures nre Bubstantially correct. 
Do I not know, that this attestation will arouse indignation, acd 
create hostility, which sincerity cannot disarm, nor honesty of j 
purpose protect, from rudeness, violence, and perhaps vengeaim 
It will asi^uredly come; vindictive adversaries will arise to imptiM 
our motives and to blast our reputation; but with the sante lot 
of freedom, with the same devoledness to liberty, with the same 
hatred of a bondage dishonorable to freemen and to Christians, 
with which in this consecrated hall our fathers invoked the inde- 

tcndcnce of their country Irom Ihe shackles of foreign despotism, 
loo disdain the bondage which Free Masonry has put upon me; 
nnd even as he, the beloved and honored father of his country, 
V liose manly and commanding form stands almost living on the 
fiitivass bclbrc us, broke the oaths of his allegiance to the foreigi 
imiintatc, from whose tytanny a glorious revolution deliveredH 



eatydf m 
■eanotbH 
nptia«hS 



'1 



29 

do I, with the most conscientious confidence in a hallowed cause, 
burst away forever from the bonds in which Free Masnnry has 
held me; and I declare, that, as far as my knowledge of that in- 
stitution extends, the publications which I have seen of its se- 
crets are substantially true — drawn and exhibited with a fidelity, 
which deserves all praise and all confidence. In the most odious 
characteristics of the oaths and obligations of Fice Masonry, 
those disclosures are true. It is true, that a Royal Arch Com- 
panion, to which degree I have been admitted, or as it is termed, 
exalted, and the highest office of which I have sustained, does 
swear, that he will espouse the cause of a companion when en- 
gaged in any difficulty, so far as to extricate him from the same, 
whether right or wrong — and that he will keep his secrets invio- 
lable when communicated to him as such, and he knowing them 
to be such, murder and treason not excepted. I know that these 
mosl odious and obnoxious clauses are part of the obligation of 
that degree, for I believe that I received that obligation; and J 
know that I have so heard it; and, as High Priest of a Cliapter, 
have so myself, administered it to others. 

For these disclosures, and these declarations, am I a vagabond 
and an outlaw? and is my reputation for veracity and integrity 
blasted and ruined forever? and am I to be sacrificed as a 'per- 
jured ri7/atn,' because I will not suppress the beating passion of 
the heart, which will hold no longer in its recesses the vile and 
corrupting secrets of this unhallowed institution? Do you believe 
that the base motives which have been attributed, and which 
will be again repeated with exaggeration hereafler, could have 
wrought with me either to fabricate gross falrichoiids, and palm 
them off upon you for truth, or break solemn and binding ol)ligi&. 
tions for the poor and miserable reward of sf>me \n'A\y niWr.v^ m 
for paltry popularitv? Miserable indeed were th« iiiiin, who fin 
such ends could weigh himself down to everlasting inf'uniy, hy 
proclaiming falsehood for truth, or by breaking oathri whif:|i h<. 
felt to posses one particle of binding force? Hut it ih ni;t isi». J 
trust that neither the wealth of worlds, nor the tini^t:ry i,i Hy^t*n^ 
should have torn a hallowed secret from the Uotnnn, »i' \Hiitudimn, 
duty, and religion, required it to be kept ♦jjicred aiKi fchs^pioi 
there. But even if I could have been fcubdu^rd, \,y {hUj: 4^1 Jl 
sions, to the dreadful degradation of sa<:nlj':inj< fnyw if ,„ j^^^^ 
deemable infamv, are there not oih<:r lie* whi' ij tLoiil*' i^^^. j^^ |\, 
and restrained me from such an awful immoi^i'jir \Vi,., -,,,. ^^/^ 
husbands and the fathers of th*:M; wiv#rfc aw'i <i^.jyi,t, ,, ^j,^^ , ^^ 
beside me and crowd around u^' (>j-A< n*« y #,',i,,, ,,, ,, ^ y, \„. 

hopes and blight the prohj^ecik of ii.*: */*'*»'•"•'.» « 4,, 

and the idols of their afi'ecTiorj' J v^/ j*4*w. .,,, , "** 

dearer to me than the iB-"\iihutih^i; *A wr vwf 
rather would I spend the la-st iuV Ct*^\, '/» 1*,, 



■'■ii^ 



J »■••• 



• . • 



I- • « 



■' *^-' •♦, 



•1 ill. 



nu»- 



blood which flows iu the veins of m.'/m .. 

me, should be chilled and frozen with li.* ^ 

And what, then, is this institution, wi^^ »., , ,^,^ "' 
9mp]y diacloaed, and of which 1 h*w fv-.r, , ,^^,^ J^ 



p 



I 



30 



that, which, in ils ritoa and ceremonies, can scaroelj- rise ahove 
the conlcmpt of the intelligent, Rnd wljich oughl to be repudi- 
ated alike by pntriolism and virtue. Of its riles and ceremonies, 
it 'u Bcarcely ^t here to speak. They hsrdly deserve the notice 
of even n pssaing observation; yet I will venture to submit tlie 
eingle observalion, that he trhu has been initialed ea an entered 
apprentice of speculative Free Masonry, and ihence proceeded 
through (he several degrees, till, in tho words oflho order, h« * 
been exalted to the sublime degree of a Royal Arch Mason, 
|iB9scd through a series of scenes of as ridiculous degr«datioi], 
It seema possible for human ingenuity to devise, 

Btil possing away from ceremonies to principles, how can ttbe 
otberwiso, than that philanthropy and piety should alike condemn 
an ioBlilution, which adopts those baleful obligations to wbieh I 
have alluded, and imposes the sanction of their obligations in Iht 
imprecation, by every candidate who cros^^es the threshold, of the 
penally of a most horrid and barbarous death ? Is it lo be tole- 
rated, that in an age of enlightened teaming and beneficent reli- 
gion, an association shall be formed of men, linked together ' 
tjee the strongest which solemn obligations and awfiil peoi " 
can create, for the purpose ofaObrding aid and assistance 
other inevery difficulty, right or wrong? of concealing the 
of the basest crimes? There is no need of dwelling upon 
like this. The universal manifestation which shall burst from 
every man not manacled and shackled with the most dreadful of 
all obligations, con give but onoanswer, and that must be an Mt- 
swer of coudemnution. 

Those parts of the obligations of the crufl, to which 
just referred, are sometimes disputed and denied by membei 
tho fraternity: but there are other portions of their obligati 
not so glaringly obnoxious upon Ihoir very face, which hi 
never yet been contested, which seem to me lo demand the 
earnest and severe rebuke and condemnation, I allude t< 
pottion of the oaths which are administered in the courso of 
degrees, whereby an initiate swears, that he will support 
constitution of the grand chapters and grand lodges, andconf 
%o all the by-laws, rules, and regnlalions, of the chapters 
lodges of which he shall be a member. These obligations arfi 
the broadest terms, and no mention is made, nor reservation in- 
icrted, in favor of the laws of the government; and if it shall be 
the pleasure, of the high powers who regulate the grand chapters 
and lodges, so lo arrange ihoir constitutions, or even of the limited 
:iation of ii single chapter or lodge, so to enact their by-laws, 
, and regulations, as to couHicI with the statutes and the laws 
of the land, we find ihe Hberal terms of Masonic obligations requir- 
f its members, under the penalties of iheir own imprecations, '(' 
iruel death, to disregard and disobey the legal and conaliluf ' 
laws of tho govcminent — the enactmenis of its legisiMure, 
the customs which have been inherited from their uncestors, 
sacred legacy, and n aife rule of ncuf^n, are all lo give waj 



fled 

1 



nuir- 

>s,'<«a 

I 




I 



legislation of the lodge room, and (he unfeeliag despo* 
ttsip of Free Masonry. And cooaideriiig the terms of ihoee 
obligations, 1 do nut see why he, who should refuse to Buppoit 
lh« constitulioD of a grand chapter, or to conform to the by- 
Iftws of a lodge, because of their conflict with the lequirements 
of law, would not as elloctually violate hi» Masonic oath, a 
expose hiraeelf to the penalties for transgresaion, which he has 
imprecated on his own head, as he who has dared to communi- 
cate to the world any of the secret mydteriea of this audaciouB 
Brder. 

Let it not be said, that these things are not so; that the me 
of the fraternityaare peaceable men, futthful to tbi 
ulizena, and loyal to their country. All that may be; but 
wbat are the lessons which are taught, and the principles incul- 
cated by the institution ? The well instructed moral sense, and 
Ae love of country, may, and unquestionably hove, witii most of 
the (ralernily, set aside, aa a nullity, the obligationa by wliicb 
thej have been bound; but if these principles, which are the 
tsnavoidable inferences of the oaths which they have taken, oAen- 
liMM, even as if they were the whisperings of virtue, sorve (o 
coverQ this life, that Integrity of (.heracter which lias ^iv«a 
ustinction would be thrown away, for the devices contrived in the 
dark conclaves of a secret conspiracy; and influenced by hi»' 
ttystieal obligations, if a brother were urged to expose a felony 
whose eecrcls hod been communicated on the square, or to give 
Up to merited punishment, the criminal whose cause, as a con»- 
ffkuioD, he had espoused, or if besought lo forbear his opposition 
to the laws of his country, because of their conflict with the b^- 
kwv of his lodge, might he imt, and ought he not, upon Masonie 
,yniiciplea, to answer, I cannot expose my companion; my hous* 
ttust be a castle for hia body, as my bosom is the repository of 
hw secret; I must oppose the enactments of my government, 
Iwutise they infringe on the by-laws of that companionship lo 
«4iicb 1 am bound by the penalties of death? — And would not. 
hu justification be held forth in the langnage, as well as in the 
mrit of the merciless Jew, ' An oath, 1 have an oath in heaven.* 
runful OS these results are to reflecting and candid minds, are 
tliey not the sound and unavoidable deduclions from those obliga^ 
liotis, which have been disclosed by seoeders from the Masonic 
fnUemity, as the bonds of their fellowship? 

With such an institution existing in the midst of us, what, eif) 
tdielt be done? And what is the state of the public mind, even 
now, when these disclosures are before the people, and they ard 
besought to read, and e.vamine, and determine for themselves? IC 
is little else than a dread to look at the evil, lest the community 
sh^l be roused to excitement. The members who yet cling to 
this institution all say, that we must heilill: — excitement is feaf^ 
All and alarming. And this grand pass word of the cralt i 
adopted almost simultaneously by the people, and it G^ead^ aaA 
is repeated in every ponioa of the country. It ww l\\e \bs\. irol* 



which I heard uttered id the rillage where I live, ai 
door of my dn'elling to attend this assembi}'; I have henrd4 
murmured in the utreets of your city; it ii whispered at the (bSL 
where I take my food; it is circulated through the cimmunily bj^ 
the pressed, which ought to iitand, as walchlul sentinels, foi the 
saTety of the nation, and its dearest, noblest institutions — all, 
everywhere, the admaoition is 'bestili..' avoid excitkmemt' 
What! Mr Chairman, when this Convention has asset —" 
that 100,000 Masons are in this land; and when you say, I 
you believe that the disclosures of the principles of the . 
slilution, which you have before ynu, are true, shnll all he sill 
as the grave, and speechless as the tombP the felon he savAJ 
the victim of Masonic vengeance wehering in his blood? prina' 
pies unopposed, corrupting the integrity of thousands and hul 
dreds of thousands of your citizens' 

■ A mllon's rights bclmyeil.Bnil all content !' 

Mo Sir, nol This silence, this stillness will not do. ^ 

voice of iDstruction must be lifted up. The careless must !!«''■■ 
roused from their indiRerence: the uninformed must be enlight- 
, ened; opposition must be vanquished; and the lion must be 
hound in his den. We few have been sent into this Convention 
by our fellow citizens, to aid the great cause of our country — 
not to denounce the Musonic fraternity as individuals, hut to 
assist in demolishing that tremendous fabric, and to knock ufi'the 
manacles in which it had bound its members. We bring no 
weapons of warfare against them, but we hold forth to them the 
olive branch of peace. We invite ihem to unite with us in a 
common cause. We feel that their cause is ours, and that all 
should Join in aiding its accomplishment, since it is none other 
than a struggle lor national and personal redemption. ~ 

is it safe to listen to these wide spreading admnnitioiiB to | 
slill f It has been said, that the institution of free Mm ' 
was silently dying awav of itself, and that we ought not ti 
in to disturb its gasping agonies of death with our reproacheSf 
Never was a prediction less Ibunded in fact. It has given way, 
indeed, before the storm which it fell was approaching; but it 
seeks, in its seclusion and repose, for renewed strength to baffle 
the tempest which is beating upon its walla. How is it that it 
is dying away ? In a neighboring State the violence of its meni' 
bers wakened the indignation of the people, and inquiries, which 
would not he stifled, were began and prosecuted, till^even the 
hardihood of Masonry stood abashed. It then shrank, as well it 
might, from the public gaze; while the progress of free investiga- 
tion went on its course. Already that investigation has pierced 
the denlhs, and it is heaving, like the waves of the ocean, in a 
sister Uommonwcalth. The momentum could not he repressed; 
and the voice of expostulation and remonstrance, which first 
raised il«elf on the b-rders of our western lakes, has swelled 
across the country — has bent, ub tones through New England iA 



33 

and at last it rings its joyful and exalted echoes here, along the 
vault of this olorious Cradle of Liberty. 

Let us not DC silent — let us not A^ar to disturb the public re- 
pose by excitement. If we do so, this institution will rise again, 
like the Phoenix from her ashes, with renewed strength find 
vigour. It will boast that it sustained the severest shock which 
aught earthly can endure — the shock of a nation of freemen^s 
indignation — and has triumphed over it, and all future opposition 
it will laugh to scorn. Even now, with all the excitement which 
can be roused against it, in the great State where opposition to it 
first began, it still exists, scarcely shorn of the gigantic measure 
of its pretensions: and the titled dignitaries of the order are still 
hoarding their gains for the institution, and still binding new 
victims by the administration of its most barbarous obligations. 
And here, in our own Commonwealth, what evidence have wc 
that Free Masonry is giving ground and surrendering her pre- 
tensions? In the course of the last twelve months, some char- 
ters may perhaps have been surrendered, but it is doubted 
whether as mciny wer«) given up as had been surrendered in 
other periods of the same length, from accidental circumstances. 
7^0 ! the charters are neither given up, nor has the spirit or 
influence of the institution been abandoned. Both are in full 
force; and even now, wc ourselves assembled here, feel the 
effects of that 3Iasonic spirit and temper which is abroad. Its 
shafts are levelled at our bosoms; ana if wo were not bound in 
that panoply of a good conscience, which always was and will 
ever be, an effectual shield against slander and reviiinir, ihi'.y 
would wound and destroy us. If the cause which we ndvof:fit«s 
were not strong injustice, and based upon the rock of snlid priti- 
ciple, it would have been, in its infancy, crushed and fitrnri^lcd 
by the weight and .strength of 3Iasonic power, no** «:x»'r»iiij/ ifsi 
force upon us. 

So far from there being any disposition on th': part o/ fh'* Mn- 
sonic fraternity to permit that institution to pr:ri>:i ^s.vl f\i'.^ I u-vf*: 
been informed by testimony to which I give ';.":'.<•.,"•. ;i.fr.'#iij/fi 
it is not that which I could readily produce, fh^il •;.'; ftfit.*\ \/Aj', 
of this Commonwealth, in this city, on its t*:'.* :/■ 'o'.-.rr. *.'.,'. i. •.-,'. 
only a few days since, for the annual cUoi'.^-. '/ .-.■ \'..f.fff. '•.• 
question was distinctly presented, wheth'.r •.'.«. '.'♦.f .• r.-, . v,«. •* 
be permitted to sink or be sustaincl at all '•. •' '•- i-.o 
cidcd upon grave deliberation that it hkoy/d ,"•. ',**:\ .. 
would stand the battle and the breeze, %%.vA .% <<• '. «.•.'•' '.' 
sentence of condemnation which a mor'; « ' /. »^:.** . ■• 
public mind i.s preparing to pass upon i'. * •'•'#». ''. .'■ 
going on as it has gone, * conrju*-rin;( ?..'.'i •» *•'.'•■ *■ • 

It is right then, sir, to take acliv: r.v «-•»- • , ? 
gress of this presumptuous and o\erb/:ft,' ../ ,' " ' ■>''' ■ 
said that the patriotic jealousy of fr':«-'.w '«.- * 
estimable rights, was put down by k * .r»-i< ^•••i 
of awaking the people to an excit'ttf.^.M i**'*** * " » r" 
peals to their dcarost intcreain. I- v\7"''» -*• • •. *" ' " 

O 



f 



I 



I 



S4 

one citizen hns liccti ahcaAy torn from tbe bo^m oTlris f^m 
nor should the shrieks of murder which mingled wirh the v ' 
above the wHtera of Niagara, be drowned in the boialcroua 
eilion of interested partizana, nor in the clamorous npprob&t 
an inetitution whose members achieved that ignoble, dread! 
deed of darkness, treachery, and crime. 

It is well that Conventions should assemble. Their 
to accumntatc nnd dilTusc information. Let it not be fi 
that we have not been gathered together to establish a new si 
or to disseminate new doctrines. The priociples wc incolci 
are the same which have made this land the glory of the natii 
an nsyluni for the oppressed of all people. Wc sect: for the e 
mon good jn the universal diffusion ol that knowledge and ii 
malioo which will apprise the whole of our fdlow citizens ofl 
rights and otTord ihem the best means of defining and of n 

KciuatiDg them. We disclaim all hostility to the mcmbcra oft 
fasonic fraternity. No animoaity towards them has brought 4 
iirto our consultation. We believe they are mistaken; led a**" 
by errors which tve would be glad they should see and reject, f 
we see and reject them; that they should be brought forth Irdi 
the darkness in which false doctrines have immured them, unf 
pure and clear light of personal independei 

There is no great political party to be prospered by tbe laborsB 
which we are engaged. It is not the cause of men, or of factlMT 
which warmn our hearts and animates our exertions. If we kn4| 
onraolvea, there is no other object in view than the emanctpattq 
of the captives, and the destruction of a bold and dangerous iu " 
tution, which has allured by its outward graces many of our b 
citizens, and fastened them in the awful obligations of id 
bondage. Tliere is but one danger of tho formation o 
and for that, surely ire cannot be responsible. We assail no m 
we seek to injure no man; but the great law of nature, * 
bids every man remember, that self-protection, is a duty wbieh jj 
rei^uired of every one by the constitution of his being, will rott 
ua to onion and to common efforts in our defence, il neither o 
persuaijions, our arguments, nor our entreaties can secure us Irod 
reproach, from injury, from destruction, through the assault oftj 
Masonic fraternity or its advocate.'?. 

The great end to be accomplished is the diffusion of i: 

Tios. Klhat be thorongbty done, wc hold that the event is si 
It is painful to look torth into this community and see 1 
Ihose organs ofcommuaications, the newspapers, have been a 
still are closed seainst the great truths, which we trust are yet 
redeem this people, to restore iliem to a slate of freedom from t^ 
presence of an institution which has insidiously grown with tl 
growth till it bids deliaoce to all elforts for its extermination, 
ine press must be moved onward, public opinion can and wBl ci 
Irol, even thai mighty engine of power. If they whu now 
at theporlals of the press are not faithful to their truHt, i 
generation shall rise up and tokft their places. New pres 



35 

sh^U be established, new editors will be called forth ititothf: vine- 
yard to brine in the great harvest of conriuest, which is yvX Ut bf. 
gathered, in every form which can be devised, information nIiuII 
be sent forth. It must spread throuish the streets and Rf|uar«!M of 
this great and enterprising metropolis, it must pass the threshold 
of poverty, and walk in amidst the luxury of wealth. It must tfo 
beyond this mart of commerce, and shall yet enter the loAy walJii 
ofour seats of learning; it must stretch over the (^reen lands of 
the country, and find its way into fivery village and hamlet, every 
pslmce acd every farm house and cottajre in the land. Truth, 
thus diffiiaed, will wake the sentinels or the press, wlirj are now 
sleeping on their posts, and they too will join, ihonifh it be after 
the toil is over, in the high servicen of this regeneration. TU''.r*i 
shall then be, let us trust, no party, no unholy triumphs on the 
part of those who began and strujzgled in this cause in the day of 
Its weakness: but one comrn-^n thanksgiving, that wo have ail aid- 
ed in improving ourselvefe and our co'jntry; and are able to seo'l 
down to our pH>«terity. puriKed. regenersted, »od exalted, the n*^ 
hie inheritance of libertv uhicri c?Lrfje •o ui fr'/m ojr f»fhfr«. 



The ConTent.:- ae* v-zior-f.-sg \% vi^v- .Turner/. *♦. fi ov.'x.*' 
Prmvcr* ^*re ofTere*: -.» FU. Mv^i* THi'.Hit- '/f Wf#-'*- 



Mr Ma^^. --flXe^iirr- •y.xH ii c.'.t 'lert-v!* .es.g»!. vt l5^ vf^ 
gin. rites. ^r.-t.->i. 11.' •*:.:*:'. -.y '.: fr^e Mav^r*'/ Ifc t^.^'., 
ed t o tie cc- *^. :'-. r -ari^ - - *. *. -i C '. r. -. ^ r.* . v. & t'J vxrt e<^ t4c*t#^^ • 

series r v. >i -j-.-^^-a^. •-. •-.-• ^"-t-.i aa«f trjrz '/ •-.a *,.r f . 

the l::>t-^>» :.' -:» :*»:'.: » «.^-t ti '•'' t^. jreai^rtr |«r:j*'%. • . 

La faie za. w*z£ *. -*• ii* vt'-** r^vui^ 1/ ti^ ^-j^-^t: .♦ ^ 
his r *aua f' AJ ▼- :'^.'V*.> • *-^ vivirtsi^^ ^e^tit^Lt^- .r »• -.^p.. 



•«•#■? ^n .*"* >•* ~"||' Hit'* 




j(' 



s.r. 



[ 



36 

Mr WiiiTNET.of Boston, approved oflhc suggestion. The ob- 
ject of the National Convention was, like this, to devise means 
for difTusing light and information on the dangerous principleq 
and power of (he Masonic order; a gigantic association, whicB 
grasped in its embrace the whole Union, as well as the humbH 
village. At Ihia period of party contention, we should be c 
lious of exciting their jealousy! By sending distinguished potfj 
ticians to that Convention, we might be suspected and accused if 



The 



lulJ he raised 'hot it was | 



sinister political v 

political manceuvro, and the prejudices and suspic 

sans might be enlisted against us. The votaries of masoni, 

were on the alert to seize on any questionable act, and tointeqird 

it to our disadvantage. With no feelings of disrespect for thra 

gentleman named, he should prefer sending men who were noT 

particularly idcntitied with any political parly. 

The report was re-comroitled, 

Mc Cleveland, of Boston, moved that Ihe vote accepting tii 

Report of the Commillee on the public press, he reconsiderefi 

He was necessarily absent from (be Convention nhen it passeo) 

and he wished for the privilege of making a few rcmorka on tUB 

subject. 

The motion for a reconsideration prevailed. 
Mr Cleveiasd then moved, oa an amendment to the I 
thai Ihe words 'excepting religious papers,' be inserted i 
' such presses as boldly open their columns (o the Masonic But 
ject,' &.C. 

The President explained that the words of the Report wert 
'lo extend patronage to such papers as boldly opened their col^a 
umns' to (his discussion. By inserting here, tlie amendment, 'Bb^ 
cepting religious papers,' the gentleman's object would not be at^ 
tained. He would observe, in explanation, that (he Report <iU4fl 
not advise a withdrawal of patronage from any paper; it aimj^^ 
recommended, that additional patronage be extended lo such p 
pers as opened Uieir columns to this discussion. 

After altering the amendment so ns to read, 'excepting n 
gious papers from a recommendation to discuss this subject,' 

Mr Cleveland observed, that gentlemen would recollect tin 
petition olTered up a( the commencement of the business, thil 
'every plant, not of divine planting, might bo rooted up.' HaI 
considered the object which had called the meeting, as of high iin4 
portance, connected with Ihe welfare of the community; that tal 
Kim at the overthrow of evils, existing through the influence on 
Free Masonry, involved duties of solemn and interesting mo»T 
ment. The weapons, which religion recommended lo its friends, 
were not carnal, but mighty, Ihrough God, to the putting down 
of strong holds — casting down imaginations, and whatsoever es- 
alleth itself against ibeEknowledge of God, and bringing every 
thought into subjection to the principles of the Gospel of Jesu* 



37 

Christ. Iler watchmen, then, and eyery man employed to ex- 
tend her happy influence, should study great care and circum- 
spectiony while engaged in the holy warfare. Were presses pro- 
fessedly established for the blessed object of encouraging a 
growth of f^race and knowledge in the hearts of Christians, and 
the dissemination of divine truth through every grade of society, 
to open their columns to the discussion of the subject of Free 
Masonry, he apprehended most deplorable results from such a 
course. He feared that the spirit of God would depart from estab- 
lishments where such controversy should be introduced. The 
remarks of Mr C. were predicated upon a resolution, having for 
its object the encouragement and patronage of such public prints 
as should 6o/c{/f/ admit into their columns the discussion of the sub- 
ject of Free Masonry. He saw the bearing of this resolution 
upon papers professedly of a religious character — that, if ihey 
should decline such controversy, and other papers of a religious 
character were set up with a view, ^boldly' to admit the discus- 
sion, the present papers would be dropped, and the new ones 
token — and, that immense injury to the cause of the Redeemer 
would inevitably result fnom such proceeding. To transfer en- 
couragement from one religious paper to another, on the grounds 
named, would root up many plants of our Heavenly Father's 
planting. 

Dr Thompson, of Charlestown, said he was taken by surprise, 
by the suggestion to excuse religious newspapers from the ope- 
ration of the resolve. He had voted in favor of rcconsidermg 
the resolve, to accommodate the gentleman from Boston, though 
he thought that gentleman^s absence from the Convention, dur- 
ing the discussion, if he had felt hearty in his duty, could hardly 
be excused. But, said Dr T., while he expected that the vote to 
reconsider, would be followed by some new views on the subject, 
from the gentleman from Boston, or the proposal of some more 
vigorous combination of means, to engage and direct the in- 
fluence of the press, in favor of u righteous cause — he was 
utterly astonished to find that the whole object of the gen- 
tleman was to exempt religious newspapers altogether, on the 
Unround that religion had nothing to do with the investigation of 
Free Masonry. Whiit, said Dr T., is the design of religion! Of 
the Christian religion? It is to ' bring men out of darkness into 
light.' It is to * break every yoke ' — to * open the prison doors' — 
to * brine forth the prisoners out of the prison house, and say to 
the captives, go free.' It is to make men ' free by the truth, 
that they may be free indeed ' — to * pull down strong holds ' — to 
^ cast down imaginations, and every high thin^that exaltcth itself 
against the knowledge of God.' And what is Free Masonry? Is 
it not a dark prison house; shutting men up by bolts and bars of 
mysterious secrecy, and chaining them down to terrible obliga- 
tions by awful oaths? Is it not a S'ain imagination,' a ^ hi^K 



tiling,' 'exnlting itsolf ngainst the knowledge of God,* or ri 
arrgg&ling to ilgell' llie holy allribiitCH of Ihe Most Higlil 
whal is llie purpose of An(i-Maaonry, and of this Convenfiai 
It is lo break Ihese bolts and cliajna — to releiuse our fellow-m' 
from this ignobte bondage of urror, and bring ibem out into t] 
glorious liberty of the truth. It ii to rcetore those holy litl« 
which, with sacrilegioua hnnds, have been lorn from the ' Kin^ 
:nven,' to deck the hrow of this earthly idol. Is not this 
task befitting religioua newspapers, and religious men? Sore 
if mortal man can ever he co-worker with the immortal God^ j| 
must be in the sublime duty of defending His sacred nam« frof 
earthly pollution, and in the noble labor of emancipating I 
ellow-man from the thraldom of error, Jarkness, and ain, 

Mr Churchh.i., of Mihon, said that the apparent diiTereiM 
lictwixt the report and the motion might be easily reconcilaj 
The mover assumes lo come forward in aid of religion. We | 
profess to be engaged in the same exalted pursuit. Is it p 
to identify with religious principle an institution which bahf 
coounands her initiates, ' (o crti^ llic head of Oiai lerpeat, adon 
by the valgar, and called Religion! ' The report, however, dot 
invite any one to abandon hia connexions with any publ 
nuwEpaper whatever, but only to patronize (hose which tell H 
whole truth to the public; and if the gentleman wishes any I 
vorile paper lo share (he bencfils of this recommendation, t 
has only to induce such paper to give warning of the wounds W 
poisonous drugs prepared for the destruction of religioi 
as lo paint her beauty and utility. Should he fail in I 
he may transfer his patronage to other religious papt 
alford unqualified support lo tliat cause. 

The Anti-Masonic Christian Herald advocates sentiments m 
_>rinciplcs, nearly the same, to my understanding, as (hose enfirj 
taincd by the gentleman. But if some are determined to euppc 
publications, masonic to every intent; though Ihey may retau "' 
mint and cummin of religion, while neglecting the weightier a 
lers of irroligion, masonry not excepted, can they complain tU 4 
we should invite support to newspapers as pure in principle, au] 
more universal in their application? 

If the objects of the present motion cannot be effected by i 
of the above propositions, I should be in favor of sustaining I 
present report; though sorry to disagree with a member w 
cornea in the name of Jehovah, In whose cause we thought i 
were all engaged. 

Mr RucGLEs, of Troy, said that that religion which would n 
euSer a sparrow to fall to the ground without its cognizance, i 
certainly was interested in the question before them. Thu 
should be no e.\ception made of religious papers. They w^ 
BBpecially involved in the ezaminaliun of an institution which p^ 
ieoded (and it was al! a pretence) to a divine origin. Was r. 
' gioa not concerned in this nueation ? Most assuredly It was. 



39 

Mr Thacuer, of Wrentham, observed, that ho was not in fa-* 
vor of adopting this amendment for several reasons; one or two 
of which he would state. Ho was not in favor of making any 
distinctions among newspapers. He was ready to admit that the 
christian warfare was spiritual, not carnal. He was also in favor 
of the elicitation of truth, however elicited. There were two 
ways in which Masonry might be viewed — first, religiously; se- 
cond, politically. It should have a religious discussion and a 
' political discussion. It might be investigated in religions papers 
so fiir as it was connected with the interests of religion, and in 
political papers, on those points where it related to politics. He 
did not ask religious papers to discuss its bearings on politics; 
nor political papers to discuss its bearings on religion. Both 
coulcl investigate its character so far as it oiTcctcd their peculiar 
interests; and in his view, it did exert an alarming influence over 
both. If a destructive evil had crept into the church, how could 
it be purified? Ought the corruption to be suffered to remain, 
and to extend its deadly influence, because it could not be touch- 
ed without producing pain and excitement ? Were not the same ob- 
jections urged against Luther, the great pioneer of reform. How 
was the reformation effected, but by ascertaining facts which ab- 
solyed the consciences of those hitherto bound, from the ties con- 
nected with the Catholic church? No carnal weapons were then 
nor now need be used. It was now, as then, with the church, a 
spiritual warfare. The Convention had convened to elicit truth and 
prevent a great evil; to break down the impediments of truth. 
They were not called upon to make any distinguished difference 
between newspapers of any kind. Tliey should be all open to a 
free and impartial inquiry on this great question. He knew that 
the principles and tendency of Free Masonry were at war with 
the christian religion. He alluded to the higher degrees of ma- 
sonry as disclosed in Bernard's book, and particularly to that 
degree entitled the Adepts, or Knights of the Eagle, or Sun. 
He observed that if the gentleman who made the motion, would 
peruse that degree, and not acknowledge that it injuriously af- 
fected the cause of religion, he would return to the fiock to which 
the Lord had made him overseer, and forever hold his peace. 
He thought it the duty of every pastor of every fiock to sound 
the alarm when danger approached — ^to strip oflTthc fleece of the 
lamb, when under it might be seen the features of the wolf It 
was most of all, the duty of the religious watchmen, and he hoped 
they would not shrink nor be excused from doing their duty. 

Mr Rice, of Northborough, said he had seconded the motion 
of the gentleman from Boston to reconsider the vote, because he 
wished to give every member of the Convention an opportunity 
to express his views on any subject before it. His own opinions, 
however, did not coincide with those of the mover. He thought 
religious papers should not close their columns to the admission 
of facts respecting masonry. Several ministera aivd i^tq^^^^qxiii ^^ 



p 



40 

religion had seceded from the institution, and llieir cl 
nnd motives liad been impeached for so doing. Tlicy o 
to be debarred from exprcssiog their reasons to the rcltgioua o 
munity, who could oa\y bo reached through the medium of n 
gious papers. 

The motion for amendment was then unanimously rejected, i 
the Report accepted. 

The committee appointed to examine llie laws of this Comm 
wealth in relation to Extra Judicial Oaths, made a report, wh) 
embodied a petition to the Gcncrnl Court, praying for the enw 
ment of a law, prohibiting them from being admiaistered uid ^ 
ceived. On motion for ils acceptance 

Mr Thj,cher moved several amendments, which 
agreed to. 

After some discussion on the nature and tendency of the I 

Sort, in which several members of the Convention look p 
Ir HoBART moved that it should be laid on the table. 
Mr Walker preferred, that, as it was an important d 
it should go to the Slate Committee, who might, at a conveni 
time, forward it to the Legislature. 

Mf Whitney hoped it would be accepted, and sent by I 
Convention to the Legislature. It contained facta, of * ' 
many of the members of tho General Court were ignorant, 
which they should know. There were individuals of the coromto 1 
nily, who thought the correction of [ho evil which had occupied J 
tho attention of this Convention, should be corrected by the L*" 
gialaluro. There were those who nifectud to complain that i 
were building up one combinution to put down another; that % 
were taking the power into our own hands to redress grievanci 
instead of appealing for justice to the constituted authorities of (S 
land. For one, he thought this a proper subject for leglsIatM 
interference. He wished to have the subject investigated in < ~ 
hulls cflegislation, and il'the unauthorized administration of at 
oaths of blasphemy and death were not now contrary to U 
was high time to pass an act making them so. He knew tl 
great proportion of our re present ativos were members of the 
slitutioQ complained of. lie expected they would treat our { 
tition with neglect. But if this was the most proper and lei, 
objectionable course, no aotlcipations of failure should dotei i 
from pursuing it. If Masonry was what it is described to b 
and what it could bo proved to be, he thought there was no ii 
propriety in calling the attention of the Legislature to the s 
ject. 

Col. BrRDAKK, of Worcester, thought it a document whi 
might be useful to the community, and ihnl it ought to be 1 
belore the public. He did not think it expedient to send it to it 
Legislature at this time. He thought tho people were not s 
ciently acq^uainted with t' ' ' " ■" 



<1 

Mr RuGOLES, of Troy, appreciated the arduous labor of the 
committee, which had given unusual satisfaction. That report 
ought not, and would not be lost. The people would be convinc- 
ed; and oiler they were read and known, we should never again 
bo troubled with the oaths and obligations of Free Masonry, 
any more than we should by popish bulls. He thought that any 
application to the Legislature upon this subject would be idle and 
^itilo. Oaths, and secret oaths, might be administered, and who 
was to know anything about it ? The Legislature could not 
break down the doors of lodges, and if they could not, how were 
they to get proof or testimony upon the subject? It was not only 
impolitic, but improper. A statute of this kind would lie dormant 
upon the statute book, like that of sabbath-breaking, drunken- 
nesSy et cetera. The only tribunal before whom this subject 
eould be settled, was the people. To them, then, should this 
report be sent. Light should be spread over our land, and the 
people's will would, in masonic language, ' defy a world in arms.' 

Mr HoBAJiT, of Leicester, was in fa\^or of the indeBnite post- 
ponement of the whole subject of petitioning for the purpose of 
procuring a law respecting extra judicial oaths: it was premature 
to act upon this thing; the state of the public mind would not 
varrant it. It was clear that the great body of the people were as 
yet uninformed on the question; they were enveloped in the fogs 
and mist raised by the order to blind them. Send this petition, 
and the whole masonic camp would be alive. It was bad policy 
to drive them to desperation, for ' skin for skin, yea, all that a 
man hath, will he give for his life;' and when the fraternity were 
aroused and exasperated, they might do much. Conciliatory and 
persuasive methods were the best. The number of seceding Ma- 
sons already was large, and growing every day more numerous; 
there were many left, among Masons, of high and honorable feel- 
ings; he should dread the consequences of an attempt to force 
them, by the measure proposed; they would call it proscrip- 
tion. The people could not long be misled; they will investi- 
gate, and public opinion was more powerful than legal enact- 
ments. He thought the measure of applying to the Legislature, 
at this period, to be premature, at least. 

Mr Morton, of Milton, observed that the operation of the pro- 
poeiBd law would bear upon the future, and not affect that which 
IS past. To prohibit the administration of oaths not authorized by 
law, could hardly be considered as an encroachment on the rights 
of individuals. Oaths not necessary for legal purposes, may bo 
considered as profane and inmioral. The muhiplication of unne- 
cessary oaths must have an evil tendency, in weakening the bind- 
ing effect of those administered in courts of justice. 

Mr Paine, of Boston, said, though he had been unable, from 
indisposition, to undergo the labor of reading the report, (which 
had been kindly done by his colleague, Mr Walker,) yet as he 
had the honor of submitting it, he felt compelled to attempt, at 
least, to explain and defend it. He was awaTe iVi^X. V\. tcv\^v ^xcv- 

6 



r 



42 

biacc broader ground than tlie Convention, at tirsl view, were 
prepared tn uucupy; but, however broad his positions, they were 
nil supiiorted by Intta and authoritips. He waa aware (hat ho 
■nighl liave gon« lariher in his invest i gal ions, thin others, difler- 
eniiy situated from himsell', might consider expedienti'^ut he had 
been constrained, from necessity, and for self-defence, to make 
himself acquainted with the hiaiory, as well aa the principles and 
the practices of Free Masonry, in other governments as well as our 
onn, and he had given the result of his labors in the report. 

He urged tho expediency of submilling the memorial, reported 
by the committee, to the Legislature, at tho coming session. H» ^^ 
^L entertained views of the Legislature very different from oonM^^M 
^M gentlemen, who supposed that they were our enemies, and tlMt^^^ 
^P they would disregard our supplications. He had too much chariiyi^^l 
^ to suppose thai they would treat the wishes of their const it uenlB^^^ 
and ihe appeal of this Convi-ntion, with neglect or contempt. If 
Fre? Masonry was bo dangerous an evil as this Convention had 
decided it to be, ought we not to tahe all fair and lawful means 
for its suppression? The argument that it was not time to bring 
it before the Legislature, because thi^y would oppose it, did not 
satisfy him. He thought there could be no better time fordoing 
what they had deliberately decided ought to be done, than the 
present. If Free Masonry was immoral in its nature and tendency, 
and unjust and oppressive in its effects, we could not ariest it in 
its career too soon. The Legislature were the proper nutbirjty 
to appeal to in this case; they were the guardians ot^tbe people's 
light!!, assembled for the sole purpose of devising measures for 
public safely and public welfare. They represented every party, 
every calling, and every interest in Ihe community. Even the 
order of Free Masonry could not plead, that it was not amply re- 
presented in this honorable body. 

Where can we find a tribunal better q^ialified to try this inlei 
ing question ? Would they call it proscription lo refer its decisi< 
to their own justice, intelligence, and wisdom? If they would, wfaHfl 
effectual method could we adopt to which they would not object? 
This was not simply a political question. It did not solely relate 
to matters of op/nian; it related to matters of pact. Km portion 
of the community arrogated to themselves the right of administer- 
ing oalhs contravening the taws of the land, and of inflicting the 
severest penalties on their associates — even death — fiir oHeuces 
unknown to the constitution, surely this ought to bs a subject of 
legislative cognizance. 

Is it no! time for us to bring this cause before the constituted 
trilmnala of our country? What better time can we have for this 
purpose, than the first moment that we have been convinced o( 
the facts of the cose? How long shall we remain satisfied of the 
iniquity of this powerful institution, and refrain from making any 
eflbtts for suppressing it? How long slinll we expose the lives, 
pwpttty, and characters, of our fellow citizens, lo the mercy of 
mich a confederacy, without remonstrancn or complaint; Hi ' 



I 



I 

I 



i<><^ 







long ihsll thejrbe ouffered tn go on, administerinff oathato'de- 
Tiinge (he huiiiness,' Iradiico ihe characters, and take tho lives of 
the cilizcns of ihis republic? If an appeal to thr. Legislature is 
ever to be made, whpre can wo find jiny sufficient rcison forilelay? 
Have we not be en me satisfied of the origin of Free Ma-ionry? its 
opposition to all other governments — ila direct agcncj in the re- 
volution of France — Ihe rebellions it has caused in the Briiidh 
government, (particularly in Ireland, between 1792 and 1798) — 
the correspondence it maintained between the rrbels of England 
and the revolutionists of France? Robinson and BarrucI have 
made theiie things matters of history. 

Barruel shows that 283,000 ofthe frnternity were organized in 
Ireland alone, to cooperate wlh France, to effect a revolution in 
the British government. Robinson's Proofs, and Bnrruel's Me- 
moirs, were simultaneously published to the world in M^T, both 
treating on the subject of Free Masonry; and these publications, 
doubtless, sounded the alarm to the British government, and pro- 
duced the act of Parliamoni which was passed in 1798, suppress- 
ing all secret societies. This act prohibited the organization of 
any new lodges of Free Masons, under a penalty of transportation 
fbr seven years; forbidding likewise the receiving or administer- 
ing any secret oath unknown to the laws, or any obligation in 
the nature of an oath, for the purpose of coi^cealing truth or keep- 
ing secrets, under the like penalty of transportation. This act 
also prohibited the meeting of any JFree Masons' lodge, unless two 
of ils members should go before the clerk of the peace, before the 
25th of March, in every year, and, under oath, give in the names' 
of all its members, their places of abode, and their occupation; 
likewise the time and place of holding each meeting of such 
lodge; and any lodge was liable to be suppressed, upon the com- 
plaint of any individual, sworn to before a justice of the peace, 
whose duty it was to issue a warrant for its suppression; and if 
any meeting was holden afterwards, it was to be deemed an un- 
lawful confederacy, and its members were liable to the penally of 

Such is the remedy England has applied to Free Masonry. But 
t us look at home fur some of the effects of tliis inslirulion. 
liOok at the insurrection of Pennsylvania, durin;: the administra- 
tioa of Washington. The part which Ihe French minister. Genet, 
took ill this drama, demanded and produced his recall, as the like 
cause in IViexico has produced the recall of I\tr Poinsett. 

Mr P. then passed to Burr's conspiracy, in 1808, to show that 
he carried on his treasonabje correspondence in the cypher ofthe 
royal arch degree; and then called the aitcnfiou of the Conven- 
tion to what had been passing on this subject in New Yurlt and 
other Stoles, since 1826, which was loo fresh in their memories 
to require repetition. If such wore the history of this institution, 
he thought it was high time that Free Masonry should m«et the 
nme fate iu this country, that it had in 1798 in Enp;land,lbL% 
AouDtry &om which we had derived its chaiVtiie-, Vtoi ■«* o-i^ 



J 



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44 

to learn irisdom even from an enemy, and our LegUUtnre ought 
to (bUow the example of ihe British Parliament. But, al\er all, if 
we were wrong in our course, wo could not too soon be convinced 
ot'our error, by tenting our doings by the good sense and wisdom 
of the Legislature, and thereby stopping what was called aa «x- 
citcmenl. But if wc wore right — if the evil complained of wu 
true as well as grievous, wo ought not to lose a moment in apply- 
ing the remedy. The present time woa the only time to cure any 
. evil; of the future, who could have any pledge? Is it objected, 
that the ' oxcitement ' will embarrass the deliberations of the Le- 
gislature,? We can never have less excitement than al the pr^ 
sent moment, for it hai been increasing since the lirst moment it 
was awakened, and it will continue to increase. If we therefore 
wait for it to subside, in order to apply a remedy to this flagrant 
evil, we shall wait till all relief is beyond our control, and all ^^ 
^L remedies out of our power. .^H 

H* Mr Rl'ssf.ll, of Taunton, was opposed to presenting any m*>^H 
^P morialto the Legislature on any subject relating to Free Mnsoniy^^H 
' first, because it was our duty to endeavour, for a while longer, to "^^ 
induce honest and good men, who have thoughtlessly connected 
themselves with that institution, to reflect on the subject calmly, 
and follow the example of others like them, whose roHeclions bavs 
induced them to break their bonds, end reunite thenwelvea to 
their fellow citizens. Anything which seems like coercioD> 
would, it appeared to him, have a tendency rather to confiria such 
men in their error, Ihon lead them to renounce it. We need tha 
help of as many more such men as we can induce to join ub. 

Secondly, because it behoves us to proceed with caution. Any 
defeat in any one of our measures, would injure us far mors Ibtui 
delay. The public mind is daily becoming more informed on this 
subject, and the time may come, when it will be proper to present 
to the Legislature such a memorial. At present, he was satisfied, 
that our memorial would be rejected, and furnish the Free Mosona 
with an occasion to triumph over ua. Ho could not but hope that 
the force of public opinion will, by inducing the Free ftlasons to 
abandon their system, render ail measures that savour of coercion 
unnecessary; and at all events, such measures should not be re- 
sorted to until all milder measures have failed. 



tMr TuACHEa complimented the committee on the ability ait4^^| 
labor displayed in the report. The facts they had preaento^^f 
were irresialible; it embodied satisfactory evidence, to co&viaofl^^H 
any candid mind of the dangerous character of tiie maaanic insti--^* 
tution, and of the necessity of taking all lawful measures for iM 
discouragement. He hoped that, whatever might be tha viiewBo£ 
the Convention respecting the e.tpediency of memorializing th* 
Legislature at this lime, i( would not be lost, but that it would l» 
published with the doings of the Convention. 

Mr Rice, ofNorthborough, was opposed to the commitUl of this 
report to the State Convention for the purposes specified, and to 
V^ bringing in tho aid of thu strong arm of the law. The tima had^H 




not yet arrived; Ihe public wcro Jaet coming to a knowledge of 
the facts of the case, and there wus, et present, no necessily of 
going to the Generul Court about ihem. Tnio it was, that this 
report ought not to be lost. He presumed Ihe committee would 
publish such parts of the report as ihey considered expedient. 
iJiit there was in his view no necessity of going to the General 
Court upon Ihe subject. 

Rev. Mr Smith, of Hanover, was in favor of mild and con- 
ciliatory measurcR. He could, howevnr, safely trust tbi* stibjecl 
with the slate committee. 

Mr BowMiiS, of Cambridge, was opposed to applying to the 
Legislature for the enactment of a low discouraging Ihia institu- 
tion. Public opinion was lir^t lo be reached, and enlightened, and 
concentrated — for laws, not sustained by public opinion, were of 
no use; they had no effect. The Legislature could not prevent 
Masons from wearing aprons, or drinking out of human skulls, 
or calling themselves Grand Kings, Grand Priests, Grand Prin- 
ces, and Grand Sovereigns, if it was lo their tasle; public opinion 
alone could regulate the practice. 

Mr CoNODON, of New Bedford, argued thai it was best to en- 
deavour to regulate matters of opinion without legislative inter- 
ference. 

Gen. HoTT, of Deerfield, was much pleased with the dignified 
and harmonious manner in which the Convention had proceeded. 
We bad conducted this matter like citizens of Old Massachu- 
setts — without passion, without excitement, and without violence. 
We had proceeded calmly, firmly, and u nd erst and ingly; every- 
thing had been examined in all its bearings, discussed fully, and 
adopted or rejected, as seemed best to our deliberate judgment. 
Wherever we had put down our foot, it stood firm; for consequen- 
ces had been thoroughly understood before we hazarded the 
atep. It was hie fervent wish that this able and masterly report 
should go forth to the people. It embodied nearly all the facts 
upon which the opposition to Masonry was based. The people 
in many phicea were locked in a deep and death-like sleep; this 
would arouse them from their slumbers. He wished the informa- 
tion it contained to bo walled across the Connecticut; he wished 
il to be Bent over the hills and through the valleys of Berkshire, 
and light up Ihe dark and benighted comers of the land. He 
wished that the voice now issuing from the 'Cradle of Liberty,' 
should ring throughout the Slate, as in days of yore; that every 
rocky hill and every green'valtey in Old MasHachusctts, would 
then, send back an answering echo! He hoped the re- 
port would be printed. 

Mr RuGGLEs, of Troy, had no objection lo referring the report 

the state committee, for them to publish if they thought it ex- 
lienl. This was a question for the people to decide, and not 
Legislature. At any rate, if a memorial is BeQ.\.,\«,V'\\. cwvi^ 

'eet Irom the people, and not fiom this ComenXion. 



I 



I 



I 



The Report was then referred to the State Committee, with in- 
ilruclions not to fonvard it to (he Legislature until so directed b; 



this ConvcDtion. 

Friday AFTCRNOOit. 

The Convention met according to adjournmenl. 

The Committee raised for the purpose, reported REsoLin'ioi 
which were accepted by the convention, 

A resolution was then offered, censuring the course pursut 
by the Masonic fralernity, in vilifying the motives, traducing the 
character, and deranijing the business of those who seeeded 
from their institution. . 

Mr Thacher opposed its adoption, on account of 
expressions contained in it, towards the fraternity in f;eDei 
There were some great and honorable excepti 
of conduct attributed (o the order. 

Mr Allex, of Braintree, was in favor of adopting the rem! 
lion offerad. Masons were in the uniform habit of stigmatizi 
aeceders as ' perjured villains,' ' dr'inkurds,' and ns deslitute 
moral honesty. The slanders coined in the lodge room ' 
circulated throughout the land ; cverybodv heard ibem, 
nobody could detect the original utierer. Those who had 
sunied to break the bonds of Masonry, were nearly overwhe! 
with the floods of Masonic calumny; they sometimes despaii 
of being able to stem the torrent, raised to sweep them into I 
abyss of infamy. He felt that a resolution of this kind woi 
be of use, as explaining to the public the origin of the alaui* 
circulated. 

Mr StNBOR.v, of Reading, suggested thai some of the objec- 
tional parts of the resolve could be amended, II was certain 
ihnt seceders sulTered much from the malicious ficiions of Maaoni, 
and an expression of our views on the subject might be desirable. 

Dr Thompson, of Charlestown, thought it beneath the dignity 
of the Coavcniion to speak of this matter, AM allempts to 
handle the subject would do more harm than good. He would 
repeat what he had already said, that be had no prejudice against 
any Mason on earth; he would wish to proceed in every measure 
go as to carry conviction, that no spire of hostile or vindictive 
feelins mingled with our purposes. He rejoiced to see rr.any 
breaking their ehains, and coming out of this more than Egyp' 
tian bondage. It was from seceding Masons thai this Conven- 
liou, and the public derived very important informatioa. And it 
was, in a great measure, through them, that other Masons were 
to be convinced, that the greatest happiness of Ibeir fellow men 
demanded the abandonment of their ori^cr. The institution wa 
anfrieodly to the moral rights of the eommunily. The pfoo( 
of this, were embodied ui u ilaV« * Xdidiess to the Peoplf 



J 



r^ 




which would go out before the world in evidence of the fact. If 
the IhcIs in Ihal address were true, they certainly were important, 
and the people would consider them. H'nol true, let the Masons, 
wilb uplifled voice deny them; let them confroDi the Antt-Ma- 
aonic Blatementa, and if they prove them faUe, letthid CoDvention 
be consigned to the lowest depths of ahame and degradation, and 
let their names bo blotted out forever. 

But, if the statements in that address bo true, it is of vital im- 
portance that the people should know them. The real question, 
then, is not how seceding Masons ate treuted; but have they told 
thetruth? It isoursolemu conviction, that they have; and that 
the people have a deep concern in the truth they hfive told. 
What the feelings of Free Masons niay be towards those, who 
have had (he integrity to prefer the good of their country to the * 
favor of Free Masonry, can be of but Utile consequence to this 
ConvenlioD. What the feelings of the great body of our fellow- 
citizens are, may be learned from (he irrepressible burst of appro- 
bation, which thrilled through these walU last evening, when a 
distinguished seceder, in all the pathos of repentance, and with 
the pure eloquence of truth, pourtraycd his own tremendous strug- 
gles, and hu joiifui escape from the powerful grasp of this gigan- 

The resolve was withdrawn. 

A motion was then olTered, that the thanks of this Convention 
be presented to the Secedi-'jo Miso.is present, for the impor- 
tant information and aid received from them, by thb Convention. 

Dr Phelps, of Boston, observed, that (o these, tho Convention 
was under immense obligations; equal, perhaps, to those duo 
the patriots of the revolution, who, at the risk of (heir lives, pro- 
perly, and reputation, had stepped forth to save their country. 
They should be held in grateful recollection, and their memories 
forever blest. 

The vote was passed unanimously. 

A motion was then offered, (hot the thanks of this Convention 
be presented to Plinv McRarcK, Esq., for the important informa- 
tion which he has frankly communicated relalive to the interesting 
subject of Free Masonry and also for Ihc able, dignified, and im- 
partial manner in which he has presided over its deliberations 

Unanimously accepted. 

Col. Merrick, in returning thanks, observed, Ihat he felt hon- 
ored by tho favor with which his humble efforts to serve, had been 
received. He had done no more than an act of duty, for which 
he claimed no credit — no thanks. He felt, that he had the best 
interests of his country at heart. He felt thai the cnuie, in which 
we were engaged, was a great and patriotic cause; and he hoped 
thai they would continue in it until ail opinions became as one opin- 

b; until all could engage in one general tlieLnl&sgVNvn^ ^ot \!ttw 

jiiBtiy'a common and universal kgdemttiok. 



I 



^008 ; anil 



J 




I 



I 

I 



Mr Walker, of Suffolk, said, Iliat before offering (lie lesolu- 
tion he held in hie hand, lie would ask the indulgence of Ihe Con- 
vention, while he niBde one or two luggestions, which he thought 
ofBome iniporlunce at the present moment. We are, s&id he, 
about to Heparale to our different and dialaot places of abode, and 
we have delegated to the State Committee q supervisory care of 
the CBUBe in which we are engaged. It will be important that 
this Commillce be well informed in regard to all occurrences 
which may lake place througlioul the Commonwealth relating to 
this subject; he woitld suggest, therefore, that the members of 
Iho Convention, during its recess, should consider it a duty to 
communicate, from time to time, all the facts that may come to 
their knowledge, and all circumstances which may have a bear- 
ing upon the interests of the cause, to the State Committee. This 
would enable them to discharge, with proper intelligence, the du- 
ties we had assigned them at this time. Mr W. said, he would 
take the further liberty to notice one of the most incumbent du- 
ties of all Anti-Masons, and, na he thought, one especially devolv- 
ing upon the members of this Convention. He meant thai of 
cndratiourijig to ottrcomt Oie prtjndirci which many of our most 
respectable and worthy citizens had imbibed in relation to Anti- 
Masonic efforts. Nothing was more common than to find very 
good men, who regarded everything appertaining to this excUe- 
ntiil, as contemptible and wicked. This prejudice arose from 
one cause, and one only, and that waa, an ignorance of the nature 
and extent of the evil we oppose, and of the means which we use 
as a remedy. Never having examined Masonry, they know 
nothing correctly of its dreadful iaduence: and having heard of 
■ li-Ma* .... . . ....■? 



Anti-Masonry only by the exaggerated and distorted a< 
that have come through those channels of intelligence which are 
entirely ex parte, and unfair; they have been led to regard it 
as an explosion of infatuated passion, kindled by the torch of 
political demagogues. Our great object must be, to convince 
such of our fellow-citizens of their error, and induce them to read 
and exaniino for themselves, ns to the nature and pernicious cha- 
racter ofMasonry, and the means by which we expect to accom- 
plish the end we have in view, the subversion of the inatilulion, 
and when we shall have done this, wc shall have effected one of 
the mo0l important objects; we shall have removed the greatest 
obstacle to the present success and tiiture triumph of a cause, 
which we believe to be the cause of truth, of religion, and of civjl^ 



liberty. I move, said Mr W., that this Conreotion do now ^^| 
jeum. The motion prevailed- ^^M 

LAIfTI-MASOJriC BOOKSTORE, fl 

iro. M «( »8 STATB VTRKKT. B06TOW, ^H 

May U hid MM at <k* B«Jk* MM uMM.m <&. «)«Kt «f BtMi^H 




AH ABITBAOT 



VKoonnDxifas 



AlfXI-MASOjnC STATE COirVENTIOIT 
OF MASSACHUSETTS, 



SOfiVOKfi 



DKO, »0 AHD «1, IMft, AND JAR. I, IttO. 



Soston: 

/OHN MARSH, No. 96 it 96, STATE ITUET. 
ro« TBI rciLKBiHa coMnnri*. 

JAB. 1830. 




MASSACHUSETTS 



AlfTI-MASOWIO CONVBNTIOjr. 



The D«leg&tes from the diRerent Countiei asBembled in Fsneiul 

Hall on the :jOth December, 1839. 

Hon. Georce Odiobne, oldest member of the Safiblk Delegation, 

called the Contentioa to order; after which it proceeded to the 

choice of Officers, aud (he following gentlemen were tuianimoualj 

elected. 

Col. Plint Merrick, Worcester, Pretidml. 
I DocL ABHt.v. Phelps, Suffolk, lit Vice President. 

I> MANAHSRa Keupton, Esq. Bristol, 2d Do. 

I Elijah Williams, Esq. Franklin, ^ 

I Nathan Lazell, Jr. Esq. Plymouth, \ Secretaries. 

I Stephen Oli*ee, Esq. Essex. J 

I Voted, That the following Gentlemen be invited to take »cals in 
Ltlte Convention, and aflbrd their assistance on the present occasion, 
tlriz:— 

r Henrt Dana Ward, Esq. city of New Tork. 

I Mr. S. D. Greene, late of Balana, N. Y. 

K Major Martin Flint, Randolph, Vt. 

K Capt. Nathan Baldwin, Shrewsbury. 

K Capt. John Aiken, ) 

K WiLLiAMi Reed, \ New Bedford. 

■ TiMoTnr Delano, J 

K Capt. Aba Swift, Falrhavcn. 

■ Mr. Waldo Ameb, "] 

■ Deacon Mobeton Eddy, I „,. , ,„ 

■ CoI.Abbaha*. Wasbburnb, f Bndgewater. 

■ Jacob Perkinh, Esq. 3 

I Geu. Nathan Hl-rd, Worcester. 

K TiioHAR Hatwars, Ashford, Conn. 

K George Wheaton Allen, Newport, R. I. 

K Gen. Stephen P. Gardner, Bolton, 

K Nathan Terrs. 2d. j 

W Col. Joseph Miller, . Middlesex. 

L Nathaniel Kendall, ) 

f Charles Tapfan, Esq. of [k)Blon. J 



I 



On motion of B. V. Prencr, Ei<^. of Suffolk, 

VoUfl. That Messrs. Henbv Dana Ward, Joseph Mokto*^ 
hnd S. D. Greene, be a Comiuittee to report on the truth of tl 
disclosurfs of Ffee Masonry, now before the public. 

Thi) CemmitteF >i:bBCqucDlly preaenUd Ihc [ullowiiig Repcrl, which wm MiM 
ccpted by the Couvenlloii 1 

REPORT. 

The Committee to whom was referred tlie Kesoludon of the t 
Vention, to iuquire into the trulli ol' ibu Disclosures ol'Free Mm 
ty, do accordingly Report, 

That they have eKamined the subject, and 6nd tliat the disclo- 
Biirea made by Capt. Wilmah Mur(ian, entitled, " lUustraiions of 
Masonry ;" and the subsequent ilisclosuros of the I,e Buy G-ncof 
lion, carry ou their face the seal of truth, as do also the disclosures 
ofthBhigherdcgreesin the work of theUev, Mr. Bii^RNtRD, entitled, 
" Light OK Ma.iOnrxf." Regarding the " Illustrations," no better 
e?idence need be adduced lo conRrm their truth, than the violent 
and unlawful seizure of the author by Free Masons ; of his being 
transported by them in a clandci^linc manner from Canandaigua, 
(where he had been maliciously and unjustly confined, and afterwards 
treacherously liberated,) to Fort Niagara, and whence after impris- 
onment for lour or five days in that fortress, he was token by mem- 
bers of the frateruity, and carried to places miknoitn, situr tokic\ 
time he A(M never bem se.cn by any wjtofss, to testify of his ais' 
tenec' Touching the disclosilres of the Le Roy Conrentions, the 
first of which consisting of forty-six members, who met at Le Roy 
on the 19th of February, lKi8, and the second, cousisiing of 129 
members, who met on the 4th of July following, all of both Con- 
ventions being seceding Masons, and whose cliaracters for veracity 
could not bo impeached ; and further, who could have bad no ob- 
ject to deceive, furnish to the minds of your Committee, unequivo- 
cal evidence of their truth. The disclosures of the Rev. Mr. Beb- 
NABD are of a like nature. He is a gentleman of known and ac- 
knowledged virtue, and it appears that conscientious scruples, caus- 
ed his secession from the Fraternity, and such has been the fact 
with the great body of seceders. And here it may be observed 
that in all the secessions, in several of the Slates where individuals 
had no intercourse with each other, there has been an uniformity in 
the declarations, that the disclosures, so far as they *cre severally 
acquainted with Ihem, were true. It also operates conclusively on 
the minds of your Committee, that the truth of these disclosures 
have never by any official act of the Fraternity been denied. After 
this, as your Committee are willing to believe, abundance of testi- 
mony, if any thing else could be wanting, it would be found in the 
resentment of the Fraternity against all seceders ; no characters, 
however pura and spotless, have escaped the slanders of the craft. 
Ttt« usual cxprMeioD baa beea, " perjur«d villain," thereby gtfiog 



bd^itional evidence to the tniih of the oaths administetvd to ihitlatM, 
and their belief ID the binding ntiture of them oa the •onsciencei 
of those who had taken them. 
Respectfully submitted. 

olion of Rev. Mr. Sanbchn, of Middlesex, 
Votr.d, That Rev. Ethan Smith, of Plymouth; Lotet Petkm, 
q. of Worcester; and Ebekezer WtTBiNGTON, of SulTolk, be a 
Committee to inquire how far Free Masonry and French Illumluiam 
are connected. 

The Committee subsequently sultmitted a most learned and in- 
lereating Report, exhibiting the connexion between French Ulu- 
minism and the higher Degrees of Free Masonry, and the evidence 
of the fact; but the length of the Report, renders it in the opinion 
of the publishing Committee inexpedient to insert it in this pam* 
phleu 

On motion of Hon. Gboroe Odiorne, of Suffolk. 
Votcil, That Dr. Benjamin Watebhouse, of Middleseit; Re». 
Petbh Sanborn, of do, and Thomas Wallet, of Sutfolk, be a 
Committee to inquire into the Antiquity of Speculative Free Mason- 
ry. The following Report wus subsequently presented and ac- 
cepted : 
. REPORT. 

[r The high antiquity of Free Masonry has ei-er been deemed of 
Pniponance to the Fraternity, h is assujned with confidence aud 
Kinerted with boldness. It is the principal source of all the vain 
txMAtiti^ of the Secret Order. Dating Anno Ludi, " in the ye&r 
of the Creation" aRbrds a convenient opportunity to fUl up the long 
Merhit of years with the names and Masonic labors of renowned 
men in every age of the world. The impudent spirit Which lava 
holdof .Ar/om, the first man, and clothes him whh a Free Mason's 
Apron, is not daunted by the holy character of Enoch, or of Me- 
tluiialaA ; but it falsely represents them to have been muaier builders 
of the principles of Free Masonry, and to have constructeil a Tern- 
^ie under ground, and also to have erected pillars of marble and 
brick to preserve the secrets of Free Masonry through the deluge. 
[See Webb's Monitor.] Encouraged by ihesucceBSof ihiHefTronio 
rjr. the Aandard authors of the system, in approved works called 
histories of Free Masonry, declare, that Nonh held a Lodge in the 
ftrk, that, in the confusion of tongues, the Masons retained the lan- 
guage of Eden, which is now universal in the Lodges of Free Ma- 
sons in all the nations of the earth. [See Hutchinson and Oliver.] 
Moses is made, on Mount Sinai, to receive revelations from the 
lips of the Most High, which are known only to those, to whom they 
are Masonically entrusted ; and the chief men of Israel are calum- 
niated with the imputation of having practised the sceret'rites of 
Free Masonry. The hrst ihr>ee degrees of the system took their 
present form, according to Masonic accounts, at the building of 
_ £olomon'i Temple, A. M. 3000 ; but the story is monsttoi*, «it 



1 




contrtdictory &iid fabdoui. The legends repreMot king i 
la htie ereclcd the temple by the aid of Free M&sonry, and while 
the craft hnve recei*ed this for iruth, they have conaidered it an 
importttlll truth ; but when they record the cowardly death of Hiram 
Abiff, the ningulir resiirreetiDti of the rotten corpse, and the impos- 
uble execution of ibe Masonic penalty by burying the bodies of 
Jubr.la, Jubcl^, and JuMum, at lote leatrr mart, whrre the tide ebb§ 
and fioies Itrict in tamlyfour hours, they at once think less of the 
aniiquily of their order. They affirm that a good thing is none the 
vrorse ibr being modern, and they endeavor to escape fi-oiQ iho 
point. But the system which falsely assumes great antiquity for its 
glory, will be justly suspected of asBuming the cloak of morality for 
its respectability, and the manlle of charity, to cover its selfishness. 
In this view, we do not consent to the crali's merely withdrawing 
their proud claim. They must sustain it, or allow the perfidy and 
falsehood of their system. They must defend the claim of Free 
Masonry to the wisdom of king SoIothou, to the loss of the M«5ter'i 
word, and to ihc death of HiroM Abiff, or, otherwise, confesa, that 
Free Masonry is but another name for imposture. The origin of 
the Rogal Arcli degree is strangely contradictory. Many learned 
Klasonic writers assert, that it was first conferred by lung Soloaioii, 
on three Master Masons, for finding Eaoch's triangular plate of 
gold, studded with gems, when a part of the ninth arch of his sub- 
terranean temple fell on one of them in the dark carem, extinguish- 
ed his lamp, and he instantly saw the golden trisngte with the ia* 
«nable name inscribed. [See Webb's Monitor.] But many other 
equally learned and approred historians of Free Masonry contradicl 
this, and say, that this wonderful degree was first conferred on ccr> 
tain hiasons, for finding the sacred ark, and preserving the PeMft- 
leuch, at the building of the itromd temple at Jerusalem. [See 
Town's Speculatire Masonry.] A third aiHJ more namerons ccw 
pany of learned Masonic hisforiatis pas the Royal Areh Degree im- 
iMticerf. Works on Masonry which we hare seen pnblialMd befiire 
A. D. 1760. make do mention of the existence of this pr etewl eJ 
sublime degree of ancteni Free Masonry ; tbey eamBata tbeir re- 
marks wMIt to the first three d eg re es , aiid to Ibis orders of Knight- 
bond FSrc lluichinsoo atid Ambcscm's Constiiations.] 

The Stoumic story, that the tnie nane of Goo was loM ia .(be 
days of £MrA, rerMJed anew to Jfaso, sad km agam, ■■lil Als- 
MM diKO<r«t«d k on the goUen triangk m the ninifc neb of titt 
lenple whkb swxHowed 17 fkr<M tkMMMrf of hi* Moal M3ooai|d^ed 
Hasier Masam, pfoves tbe systen k> be bosk nfiaa hbebnad aad 



H 4k9tfHti«d it. 
^1 naair. or k* 



Hasier Hasann, nfoves the systen k> be bodl nfiaa labebpca km 

vaia glory, and also MfMNi iMnuraluT. [See Webb*9 MaaiMr.] A 

BMM iMetwting fret oouwcMd wilblbe anri^oin of Free Maa^, 

" ' " ffirsdifwr anr ■■jirfih- ttmi nf hiwniii.lMsn in 

d to it. ■■ ant aga of ihe worM, pmio^ m tbe I8lb 

n earlwt day. n aw brr peer haa sang it. nor Harabt 

r rtccMamnWaiSMafiL h isi not iHoflwd by 

y sigai faa a r alaa- ^ '*- *- 



"enl, fltaiDed, !iew«d, cvred, or indented, on anj thing raoTeaM« 
or immoresble, beneath the canopy of the heavens," whereby we 
can leain, that the system of the most ancient and honorable society 
of Free Ma»ns had eustcnce earlier than the beginning of the ISth 
century. Search the Pyrsmida of Egypt, search Herculaneum and 
Pompeii, search the world, and we challenge alike the anticjuarian 
and the novelist, to show by emblems, medals, ballads, monuments, 
or tales of the imagination, anyproofof the existence of the syslem 
oCSerrels and Degrees, whose lights are the Holy Bible, Square, 
and Compasses ; whose emblems are the Trowel, Apron, and Gavel ; 
whose oaths are blasphemy, and whose penalties are death. We 
do not deny that oprrativt Masonry may be as old as Adam ; cer- 
tainly il was known at Babel, and has been constantly practised 
since, in all ages of the world. Temples, forts, and cities, have 
given employment to the hewers of stone, as well as of wood, have 
required the use of the trowel and cement, as well as of the plane 
and hammer. We have no controversy with true Masonry, but only 
with fVee Masonry, falsely so called, of that we can lell the age, 
with as much precision, as we can tell the time of the Protestant 
Reformation, or the dale of the South Sea scheme, or the origin of 
Hahommedanism, [t abundantly appears by its own books, that 
on the 24lh of June, A. D. 17L7, four clubs of London Mechanics, 
in the habit of meeting at four taverns, one the Goose and Gridiron, 
another the Crovn, a third the Apple-trte Tanern, and the fourth, 
the Rummer and Grapes, convened at the Apple-tree Tavern, 
Charles Street, Covent Garden, London, .and appointed Anthony 
Sayer, first most worshipful Grand Master of their most worshipful 
Fraternity, divided into three degrees. They set about a book of 
Constitutions, A. D. t7I9, and issued it A. D. 17^. Free Ma- 
sonry waa carried abroad by the friends of the Pretender, and 
served them as a bond of union, and a means of itubsistence. 

New degrees were first added in France, but these are disallow- 
ed in England, where nl this day, there are only three degrees, and 
every Master Mason finds the lost word. 

The mother Lodge of London, introduced the system of three 
degrees into this country, at Boston, Massachusetts, A. D. 1733, 
published its revised constitutions, A. D. 1738, and laid the corner 
stone of its first HaU, A. D. 1775. Under the corner stone a plate 
was deposited with a Latin inscription, to he found in the writings 
otPreslon, and of Smith, approved Free Masons. In this inscrip- 
tion the Grand Lodge of England claim pre-eminente on earth, and 
call themselves " Latomi, orum," Anglice, " Free Masons ;" but 
the only definition Ainsjeorfh and Yaung warrant us to give the 
word Latomi, is, " ilaoes condemned, and vagabonds sent to work in 
the quarries." 

When the Grand Lodge say, " E ealo descendii," it desrendcd 
/rant heaven, the meaning is clear, but the claim is false and impi- 
ous. The antiquity of Free Masonry is no longer its boast. It ia 
•npKwted only by blind trjiditwn. ^lule it i» controrwted by 



I 



I 




I 



8 

hiitorj ; and it ■Undi, tik« tha lystem it is intend«d to «nnoU»,^ 
diegrace lo its advocates. 

On motion of Hon. Jacor Hall, of Sul 

Votrd. Thst B. W. L*Mn, of Suffolk ; Col. Edward Foster, of 
Notfblk, and Micak H, Rkcgles, Esq. of Bristol, be a Committee 
to Uke into coniiidc ration the stale of the Public Tress. Tho fol- 
lowing Report was submitted and adopted. 

REPORT. 

Your Committee for the purpose of inquiring into the state of the 
Press in relation to a free inquiry on ihe subject of Speculative Free 
Masonry, liaving attended to the duty assigned them, respectfully 
submit the following Report, 

The public presses are generally snppoaed to eclio the Tiewa of 
their patrons, and the feefaigs manifested by them to gii-e an impe- 
tus to the pens of their Editors. We are, however, connnced that 
Free Masonry haa an ascendency over the presses in this country 
raparalleled in the records of free discussion in the columns of 
newspapers ; which effect we ascribe lo the power of ihe Institution, 
snd which calls aloud on those papers that have espoused the cause 
of the people, to be on the alert, to spread information, and correct 
the mis-statements that are going the rounds from presses that hare 
lent their aid in diverting the public mind fi'Dm the contemplation 
of the abiluciion of Capi. William Morgan, and the subsequent 
trials of the Masonic conspirators that have lately been had in 
New York. 

To the foregoing romarks, your Commillcc would add such evi- 
dence of editorial conduct, as has been presented to them. It ap- 
pears that in September Inst, the Suffolk committee addressed a 
circular to fifteen Editors ; six of whom declined publishing any 
thing on the subject of Free Masonry ; four others admitted a de- 
pee of willingness to insert notices as advertisements, and of course, 
for pay as such ; five others hare treated it with silent neglec.L A 
flubsAqucnt application has been made by the same committee, to 
eight editors, to publish their correspondence with the Faculty of 
HanraTd University, and the Professors of the Andover Theoiogicil 
Ittslilution : but hai-c as yet, succeeded in gelling it insert^ in 
three only : one of them has published it in part, and another has 
bled it in such a manner as to destroy its import ; another said 
II It was published in his paper it would ruin tlie establishment, m 
two thirds of his 1000 subscribers were Masons. Other evidence 
has been adduced, to prove that communications have been sral to 
various presses, on the Mawmic subject, from another souice, which 
have neiihor been publishml nor returned lo the writer. It ap- 
pears that tho country presses am as much shackled as any others. 

lour Conimiilec, therefore, respwifully recommend ibat the pa- 
tronage of lite friends of fr,-» discussion, \x extended to such presBS 
M trwty »na Iktldtv o|w!n their cohiWns to the Masonic subiect. W» 
•a intcreatitif to ihf puMtc snJ i.i i^i, c^nuu* 

" which w s. ■ '■ . ■ ^^ 



On rootioii of th« Hon. Tuumaii Ksndall, of Suflblk, 
Vttiefi^ Thut Ko.v. Moseb Thatcher, of Norfolk, Hon. Thom- 
as Kendall, of Suffolk, &nd Gen. Epaphras Hoyt, Franklin, be . 
a Committee to prepare an address to the people of this State. 
The Committee reported the following Address, which was accept^ 
cd bv the Convention. 

ADDRESS. 

Fkllow Citizens, 

*' We hold these truths to be sel^vident, That all 
men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator 
with certain unalienable rights ; that among these are life, liberty, 
and the pursuit of happiness." On these fundamental principles 
of civil and religious right, the people ^f these United States not 
only cast off the yoke of foreign domination, but " the whole peo- 
ple covenants with each citizen, and each citizen with the whole 
people, that all shall be governed by certain laws for the common 
good." Wc consider it therefore, the duty of every citizen to watch 
for the public welfare ; to sound the alarm in view of public dan- 
ger ; and to encourage laudable measures, wliich may be devised 
for the safety and interest of the whole. Although false alarms 
are never to be created, and existing maladies are to be cured by 
the best i)ossible remedies ; yet, when public evils do exist, free 
men should never suffer themselves to rest until those evils are 
eradicated. The common cause of our common country, demands 
the utmost vigilance of an intelligent community. In order that 
this vigilance may be maintained, it is necessary that correspond- 
ing exertions be used to scatter light upon every subject which has 
an important political bearing. Light being diffused upon each 
subjects, and the attention of the people being directed to those 
thingB which are either salutary or prejudicial to the public good ; 
it argues either a want of moral principle, or a criminal degree of 
apathy, not to foel interested ; and those who feel deeply interested, 
must act But men of intelligence and integrity, will act openfy^ 
kanestfy, consistently^ understandingly , and pergeveringfy. They 
will not shrink from the scrutiny of their fellow citizens, nor seek 
to bide themselves from the public eye ; and while they adopt and 
pursue, with a steady, undeviating course, those measures, which 
they deem for the general interest, they will frankly and ingenuously 
give the reasons of their conduct, that the public may approve or 
condemn, as occaiiion may require. 

On this ground, we consider it not only the riffht, but the obliga-' 
tian^ of citizens of this Commonwealth, in concert with others of 
our sister States, to asflcmble for the express purpose of investiga- 
ting the nature, tendency, and political bearing of Free Masonry. 

We are aware that this subject is one of great interest, and, in 
ito own nature, exceedingly delicate ; inasmuch as it relates to the 
opinions and practice of many, who, for ulents, learnmg and in- 
tegrity, are ranked among the first men in out cowivix^. vl^ ^t^^ 
likewise, by no meant insensible, that a thotougyv \Wft*V\«^Uo\\ o^ 




ii BiiltJRcl muit bring u« in uutileuiinl oollisiou with n 
ne hig'lilf rpgard for thrir mors! wurlli, am! with manj m whom 
«'■> are boun<! by the strongest lies of social nnd rclaiivs frif^ndship. 
We would, therefore, hare it distinctly understood, that we have 
neither collision nor controversy with Masons aa men, but only 



.t ith n 



»Mas 



I 



While liimcver, we am willing to concede to MaM>n!<, a* mm, 
all that is Just, honorable, rirtiious nnd praise worthy, on their pari; 
wc are mil willing to admit, that all the talents, and all the learn- 
ing, anil all the moral worth, of onr common country, arc the per- 
i]iiifliln of the masonic fraternity. We are oot willing to admit 
that ihny " are f*e people," and that " wiBdom will die with them." 
Howerer li^hly we may roa|>ect Maaona as men; we cannot con- 
rede, that aprons, sashes, jeweJs, mitres, secret rites and obliga- 
tions, or princely titlei), can Jiu//y secure to them prerogatives of 
honor, protil and trust ; or that they are more deserving of public 
confidence, than any other class of citizens. We cannot stand 
alar off, and " exceedingly fear and quake," beeauso of tlie " aw- 
ful mmnrv," which, for a century past, has hung over this institu- 
tion ; nnr can tho venerable locks of some of its members, its pro- 
tended claims to sanctity and " holiness to the Lord," nor even tlie 
sword of the " tyler," awe us into silence ; or hinder our drawing 
near to ncrtitiitice the foundation, materials, and " ca[i-«touo" of 
this mystical buildinfr. 

These thtngs premised, the Delegates from spveml Counties in 
this CnnniinH wealth, convened for tlii' purpose of inventigaliug the 
principles of Sjieciilaiive Masotiry, now beg leave to place belore 
llieir const itoentx, nnd fellow citizens in general, certain reasons, 
why thfty consider tho masonic Inslilulion as dangerous to our civil 
and Teligions Kberliw. 

The first reason which wo wotdd offer, relative to this aubj 
and which demands our sr>rioua considerni 

Thr MAHONtc rR*Ti:aNiTy iiavb EREf 

DISTINf-T, ANB INnRPENnF.NT (iOTRRKMENT 

TioMor TUB United Statkh. 

It cannot he dented, thni ani/ cnrnmu 
the right of punirfiing olTeniierc, not recor 
land ; and, especislly, Imldiiig in ito owi 
members; roust, so far, bp. considered as 

and refusing, in these respects, tfl hold itself nmrnahic i«'nny high- 
er authority. But, that the masonic fraternity hare done this. 
and still persist in their claim to independence, has been made 
to appear by thn most sattslkctnry evidence. Thp tPRiimony of 
tlieir own memlwrs has abundantly shown, that they have instituted 
a code of laws, not subject to Ihe supervision of any civil power ; 
and this code is sanguinmy. The code of laws in iJiis iniiiitution, 
consists in the several "oaths or obligations" of its several degrees, 
to every one of ivhich a penalty is annexed ; and that penalty ts 
Att/i. Every Free Mason, in every degree by which he may i^ 
laifcp, ii iM.'ide to swear, t\v&l \\o w\\\ fe^w cftRctial ihe eee<M 



It 



lily, Brrojiating to itself 
ni/.ed by the laws of the 
I {)ower, the lives of ill 
claiming independence. 



11 

rilM and principles of the inttitutioii ; his acting himself V under 
no leaM penalty,^' tlian to die a most horrid and barbarous death, if 
hp should ever knowingly or wilfully violate any c^isential part of 
his obligation. In order to have a fair view of the barbarous and 
sanguinary nature of this code, it may not be improper to recapitu- 
late the penalties of the first seven degrees. The Entered Appren- 
tiee ' binds himself under no less pi^nalty than' to have his throat 
Xut across, his tongue torn out by the roots, and his body buried in 
iihe rough sands of the sea.' The penalty of the Fellow Craft, is, 
* to have kis left breast torn open, and his heart and vitals taken from 
thenee, to be thrown over his left shoulder, and carried into the val- 
ley of Jehoshaphat' Tlic Master Mason swears under the penalty 
of having his body severed in two, his bowels burnt to ashes, and 
the ashes scattered to the four winds of heaven.' The candidate 
lor the fourth degree, ' binds liimself under no less penalty, then to 
have his right ear smote off, and his right hand -chopped off as Uio 
penalty of an imposter.' The Past Master swears under the pen- 
alty of having his "tongue split from tip to r(K>t." The Most 
Excellent Master binds himself under the penalty of having his 
** breast torn open, and his heart and vitals tiken from thence, and 
exposed to rot on the dung hill." The Royal Arch Mason impre- 
cates the penalty of having his " skull smote off, and his brains 
exposed to the scorching rays of the sun. 

Such, fellow citizens, are the sanguinary penalties, by which the 
Masonic code is sanctioned, up to the seventh degree. Those of 
the higher degrees, are of the same nature, excejH, that if possible, 
they increase in barbarism. 

Now it is vain for Masons any longer to deny, that those are the 
penalties by which the laws of their institution are enforced ; be- 
cause those obligations have already become the subject ol judi- 
cial record, as developed, under oath, in courts of justice. 

It is equally vain for them to pretend, that these penalties have 
received only a passive signification. The obligations speak ff)r 
tbemaelves. No person can read them, with an unprejudiced 
mind, without receiving the strong, immediate and horrid impres- 
sion, that they were intended to be put in execution. Sonic of us, 
likewise, Atioit, from our own observation, tliat these obligations 
have been uniformly administered in lodges and chapters, and suf^ 
fered to stand, as UteraUi/ ^pressed, without note or comment. 
The candidate is made to bind himself ** under no less penalty^'' 
then to suffer thus and so, if he " should prove mlfuUy fcuihy of 
violating any part of his obligation. But what is a i>cnalty ? John- 
son says, it is a '' punishmiMt ;'' '' judicial infiiciion:' ''forfeiture 
ypan lum performance,** It is a contradiction in terms, tlien, to 
say, that a penalty is merely passive. The delinquent also, in the 
terms expressed, is supposed to prove ** wilfully /ptUfy" of violat- 
ing some part of his obligation ; which could not 1^ the case, if 
the secrets of Masonry were extorted from him by pcrwcutiou. 
The very terms therefore, " wilfully ffuiUy:* as expressed iii the 
oath, are a fair exposition of Uic i>cnahv, and sUovi -^v i>\v ,i? , v\v^v 



r 



rod, to brmg 
at, tgfeoatj^^ 
Tlie JOag^l 

s mupdeMnl^H 
Irfjrec." FR^* 



caia ul i!vliiK]uai 
tliBl lie " will obey ill « ^ 
1, handec], nciit, or tlimwi 
to him, fiom a brother, or companion of tlie sniiic degree, or fn 
" the body of a lawfully consti luted Lodge" or " Chnjiter of sucl 
Tliia part of the oatli loo, is lett wiihoiit note or cuinmcDt. Tl 
candidate is to " obey a// regular digits, nunimonsea, or loki 
whether to be tried and cnndeiiin"d hiinxelf, or to try mtd 
a brother, who may liuve violated hi^ Maiionic eiigaf^emeuts, Tl 
precisely accords with the charge givcu to tike Fellow Craft, 
expressed in Webb's Monitor: " our lawn and regulitioua yoo 
atrenuously lo pupporl ; anrl tit alreays rtaily to 
tlum tiuii/ Fttruirri." 

_Bui, if we had aitv doubt rr^'pcrtin^ the design, nniure and ten- 
dency, of Masonic laws; we hnvo a fair and direct cKposilion in 
the hi!;hcr disgreei. Tin; "Tliri^-o Illustrious Knights" issworn in 
the tbl lowing words: "You furthiT awfiar, that ahuuld you know 
another violate any essentia! part of ihis obligation, you will use 
your moat decided endeavour.^, by the blcsaiug of God, to bring 
iueh prrson to the ftriclcft anrl lao.ii roniUgn pitninhMent, agreeaU] 
lo the rules and usagesof our niicient tralemity." Tlie "" 
ed Knight of Nine swearn, that he " loill revmgt the 
of our worthy Master, Hiram A biff, not only on the murdt 
but also on all, who mntf betray tht sti-rtts aj tiif degree 
■lao consents, in case nf bis own dt'liiiquency. " to be tirurk with 
the dreadful poniard nf oengranre." The " Illuslrious Elector of 
Fifteen binds himself under the penally of having his " body open- 
ed perpendicularly and horizontaJty, and exposed to the air for 
eight hours, that the flies may pray on the entrails ;" and swears 
" to be ready to inflict t]ie same penally on all wlio may disclose 
the secrets of this degree." The Knight of ihe East and West 
binds himself " under the penally of not only being dishonored, 
but to consider his life as the immediate forfeiture, and that to be 
taken from him with all the tortures and pains to be inflicted ig 
manner as he had consenled to in his preceding degrees." The 
" Knight of the Eagle, and Sovereign Prince of Rose Croix 
De Heroden," is shown a symbolic represenlaiion of llrll, and 
then addressed in the following language: "The horrors which 
you have just now seen, are but a faint representation of those you 
ehati suffer, if you break through our laws, or infringe the obligation 
you have taken." To the Knight of ihe Eagle or Sun, is eiqilaiu- 
ed the following emhlem : " By the man you saw peeping, and who 
was discovered, seized, and conducted to death, is an emblem of 
those who came to be initiated into our secret mysteries through a 
i^iotive of curiosity, and, if so indiscreet as to divulge our obliga- 
tions, we are bound to_ cause Ihrir death, and take ecngeanrt on the 
treaion, by the t/estrurdon of the. traitor." In accordance with 
this aeniiinent, ihe Knight of Kadosh swears " to take revenge on 
tbt traitors of Masonry," and to yield submission and obedience, on 



13 

tH occasions, without any restrictions, to the orders of the Illustrious 
Knights and Grand Comnmndcr." 

Now, if we can attach any meaning whatever to Masonic lan- 
guage, or understand the ge'niiis of any human government ; we 
must have the irresistible conviction, that the Masonic Fraternity 
bave intended to assume the power of life and death over their own 
membere. If so, they must be considered as establishing an inde- 
pendent government, within the jurisdiction of the United States. 
If they are governed by the spirit and letter of their legal code, 
they must assume the right to puni^ with DEATH, independent- 
ly of any other power, references which are neither known nor re- 
cognized by the law of the land. This sentiment corresponds with 
language need by the Grand Lodge, in the State of New York ; 
ind the same diction, with little variation, is used by the Grand 
Lodge of this Commonwealth. " Every Grand Lodge," says this 
first mentioned body, *' has an inherent power and authority, to 
make kwal ordinances and new regulations, as well as to amend 
and eiplain the old, for their own particular l)enefit, and the good ' 
of Masonry in general, provided always, that the ancient land- 
marks are preserved, and that such regulations be duly prepared in 
writing ibr the consideration of the members. This has never been 
dispnted; for the members of every Grand Lodge are the true 
repRsentatives of the Fraternity in communication : and are an 
( l ii tkae and independent body, with legislative authority — ^provided 
tt aforesaid, that the Grand Masonic constitution be never violated, 
Dor any of the old land-marks removed." 

" Here," in the language of one who has written on this subject, 
" withoiit any reference to the government of the United States, or to 
any other government, every Grand I^odge claims to be an ' al>80- 
Inte and independent body, with legislative authority and inherent 
pover' to make what laws they please for their own particular bene- 
fit and for the good of Masonry, (not for the good of mankind) in 
general." 

Maaonic language and Masonic legislation, then, assume as high 
prerogmtives, and as independent authority, as any government on 
earth; and will cope with the spirit and diction af the United Col- 
onies, when they declared themselves "free and independent States." 
But, the good judgment of every intelligent citizen niu^t teach him, 
that it can be neither for the intenst nor the saftty of this republic, 
to have an independent and increasing power, springing up within 
oar OfWB territories ; making laws for itself: assuming the prerocra- 
tive to Danish with death, or otherwise, offences of its own creating; 
and hokiing itself amenable to no legislature or executive in the 
United Slates. It is on this very principle, that the Executive of 
the United States ha5 refused to protect some of our Indian tribe. 
But if the Indians, in a small local territory^ are not to be coun- 
tenanced in " creating an independent government :" how can it 
be consistent to oonnii^e at the existence and ^otrth of a power 
which has defied " the wnrld in arms" in iVie v^i\ \«»v\ ^1 ow 
conntrr, and whoae members are scattered oxei \V« ^V^^ \mA> 



" eoiHpftuioB, when engagail in any di^eiAlif, uiil i 

CBiiae, M fur as to exiriiinle liim IVoiii tlic name, whtihtr hr br riffkc 

r wroag ?" if the jurors Imve ativ repard to the Masonic oath, 



ir brother 



lew of ilia 
repealed I J 



will tiu-y not fsGl hound to reriiler a verdict in favor ofthei 
or companion, whelher jusi or urijuslT This i 
fair and literal expression of the Koyul Arch ohligatiun : 
have.the toBtiiiiony of men. who have been Cuniliar wilt, 
usages, and nho!«e integrity has long IxieD estahliahed in < 
public, that tlic ctiiise of justice- has been thwarted 
through the influence of Masonic oatha. 

Prre Masoniy tends to d^eat the design of thr. civil Imc, M»il to 
paretlixe the ana ef jaslice in the puntshiHent of crime. 

Free Milsoiis iirv noi only aworn to k'eep their brother's aecreis, 
and to defend and enpouae hjn caune, wjielher right or wrong, hii[ 
to warn hira of approaching danger, and, if possible, effect his es- 
cape. The force of such obligations, regarded by the broiherhooil, 
must afford i. broad covering for the blackest crimes, and lay the 
buBdatiou for many a villain to elude the stroke of juatic«. In de- 
DioiiHtfation of this fact, we appeal ti7 the Morcian conspiracy. — 
Thoaucocss and facility, with wliich many, engaged in that barbar- 
ous transaction, hare insulted and set at defiance the majesty of the 
civil law, afford nielaucholy proof, chat Masonic obligations are but 
too well observed. It at&rda an afieoting illustration of those un- 
haMuwed words to l(f ep a coinpanJou's secrets, in all cases whatso- 
ever, aijd to espouse his cause, and gram him aid " in any difficuUit 
»n far as to extricate him frt-m tlie same, whether he be right or 
wrong," II cannot lie dnnied, nor ought to he concealed, thai 
whole Lodges, Chapters and Encampments, and even the Grand 
Lodge and Grand Chapter, of one of the States, have been prompt 
to relieve th««ir criminal brelliren and companions in distress ; and 
huve not hesitated to bestow of their funds, lo thwart the exertions, 
and paralize the efi*Gcta of the civil power. Even thotw Free Ma- 
sons, who have been convicted of the foulest crimes against the laws 
oftheir country, liave had their prisons turned to paJaces, their 
hearts cheered with every desirable, luxury, and arc still owued by 
tilt! fraternity, as trusty companions and worthy brutlicrs. It is in- 
deed, Tnuckery, and adding insult tu injury, fur any to pretend, in 
the face of these " stubliorn facts," that Free Masons do not mean 
to sliield one another from the arm of the civH law. 

It is an alauning consideration that Ifu public ftrets has been fa 
auih und^T the control of Matmiir. Infiurnrr. A free press may be 
considered the very bulwark of our civil and religious libeniea. 
Who are uur setitineU and watchmen, but those who managc-the 
public press T But our editors, with a few. honorable exceptions, 
relative to this subject, have been, as it appears lo us, unreasunably 
reserved. Bating a lew, who liave been continually chauuliiig thtf 
praises of Free Masonry, and pouring forth abuse and Billingsgate 
on all who dare oppose ; and here und there a champion fur tite 
truth, who had tlie temerity, in opposition to Masonic threats a mi 
Mteoitic eorrupiiun, to soiiniL t\M »UTn\. awd toll alnud Uia tal«^|^H 



17 

wo, which bad jet scarce been whisptrtd to the western zsphjr ,- 
atnioat the whole corps seemed to be mute with astonishmenL 
Masonic bribery had almost efTectuiilly poisoned all our streams of 
public iarorniatiou. No one could kuuw ibc truth ; no one could 
icll what to believe. Were U rmi lor the Aiiti Masonic presses. 
which have sprung up, almost simultaneously, like here and there 
a star to " glitter upon the mantle of night ;" our pohtical horizon 
"I have been lell in worse than Egyptian darknt ** 



of Mas 



>l over the 
reason to be Jealous, and take 
Jligence must either be stopped, or 
ombinaiion, we may as well har- 
ass or pottage, or sell our liberties 
ire, dispoiled of its strength, opu- 



from the deraom 
public press, a free peopli 
the alarm. Iflhe fountains! 
corrupted, by a powerful, se 
ter away our birth-right foi 
at auction, like the Ramai 
lencc and glory. 

We cannot but learn, with serious apprehensions for our dearest 
rights, tkt artful and insidious mcasurti, mlh which Free Masons 
have been thrust into offices of povcr and trust. In looking at these 
offices, in places where, perhaps, one eighth of the freeholders are 
Masons, we shall lind more than seven eighths of the officers in 
possession of the brotherhood. Where, fellow citizens, will you 
iind a public key, of any considerable im|)ortance, that is not in 
the hands of a Mason ? Where wUI you hnd an important public 
office, of any considerable lucrative encouragement, that is not fill- 
ed by a Mason I We are sure, that the disparity in official appoint- 
ments, as divided between Free Masons and other Classes of our 
fdiow citizens, is so great, that it could not have been the result of 
accident. Who ever will examine this part of llie subject, will find 
that facta speak for themselves, and that their testimony is irre- 
sistible. 

Now, although we would not deny to Free Masons, as mtn, in 
common with others, any right, prerogative or perquisite, of civil 
community, lo which talents and integrity may justly entitle iheui ; 
yet we are constrained to consider any secret or clandestine mea- 
sures, which they take to thrust their own members into office, as 
altogether a usurpation : and such an one as is directly calculated 
to subvert the very first principles of our confederate Republic, 

We do not feel ourselves at liberty to conclude this document, 
without urging our fellow citizens to reflect upon the awful impre- 
cations of Free Masonry, These are so numerous, that we could 
not give a full view of their horrid and blasphemous import, with- 
out transcribing a very considerable part of every Masonic " obli- 
gation." We will select, as an example only the following, from 
one of the Knight's degrees. In receiving his libation from a 
human skull, the candidate swears, " May this libation appear as a 
witness against me. both here and hereafter, — and as the sins of 
the world were laid upon the head of the Saviour, so may all tha 
lins committed by the person whose skull this was, be heaped upon 
my head, in addiibn U my own, iheiild I %nt kaotnagljr or wiiluU/ 



IS 



ol>Ii 



ration tlitt I hare heretofon U 
ny fuinre period, takf in relalio 
order of Knighthood." Upon such ii 
ry citizen make his gtrfa comment. 
tlwugh with great reluctance, to advert 
•utitig spirit, inculcated in Mine of the 



I 



tlnlate or trsusfcren* anr 
lake « fhis lime, or shall, 
any drgrcc nf Masonry, i 
precatimis ns those, let e 
Wc al<« ti.'cl it our dul 
to the mnlignanl rnil pci 

first ptincipteii of Free Masonry, and which lias leen loo faithfully 
eatried into rfTect against all those, who have had the Icmcrity to 
tratisgresit her secret and mysti^rious laws, Take, as an example, 
an extract from an obligation administered to the Thrice Illustrious 
Knight of the Red Cross. " You further swear, tliat shonld you 
know aiioiher to violate any essonliat point of iliii' ohiigaiion, you 
will uso your nioct decided endeaTourH, by the blc'sing of God, to 
hriMg such person to the strictest and most uondigit punishment, 
agreeably to the rules and usages of our most ancient fraternity ; 
and this by pointing him out to the world as an unworthy vagabond; 
bj opposing his interest, by deranging his business, by transferring 
his character after him wherever he may go, and exposing him to 
the contempt of the whole fraternity and the world, but of our illu». 
Irious order more espociully, during his whole natural life." Here 
too, let our fellow citizens judge, whether such a spirit as this, en- 
forced by a sanguinary Imr, becomes a "handmaid of religion," or 
of an institution professing to inculcate the Rrst principles of 
"charity," " universal philanthrophy," and sound "morality." A* 
it respects ourselves, we are fully satisfied, that such obligations as 
the alM}ve, will account for the scandal and reproach, which, with- 
out discriini nation have been lieaped upon all thoie who have burst 
the bonds of thr Maoonic Institution, aqd borne testimony against 
it* .'(ecret principles of iniquity, 

There are several other topics, relative to this snbjecl, which we 
think deserve the serious consideration <if our fellow citizens ; but 
this protracted address must come to a close, and leave n\uch un- 
said, which we could wiph to have discufscd. We cannot, however, 
sum up what wc have already sug^jesied, and what we might still 
desire to lay before the citizens of this Commonwealth, in more 
appropriate language, than that of the Lc Roy Convention, in their 
Anti Ma-wnic Decluiation of Independence. 

" That it (iha Maaonic Institution) is opposed to the genius and 
design of ibis govcmjiient, the cpirit and precepts of our holy relig- 
ion, and the welfare of society generally, will oppear from the fol- 
lowing considerations : 

" It excrci.ses jurisdiction over the persona and ! 
th» rpiiublic. 

"!t arrogates to itself the right of punishing its memben 
offences unknown to the laws of this or any other nation. 

" It requires the concealment of crime, and protects the gui 
fi^wn punishment. 

" It encourages the comniiMion of crime, by affording 
•gaillj fkctiitnaat escape. 



1 




" It affordi opportunitid foi the corrupt And designing to tbrin 
plans against government, Knd the livea and characters of indi- 
vidualB. 

■' It asBUmes titles and dignities incompatible with a repiiMican 
Ibrm of government, and enjoins an obedience to them derogatory 
to republican principler^. 

"It destroys all principles of equnjity, by bestowing favors on 
its own member!>, to Ihe exclusion of others equally tnerii or ious and 

"It creates odioua aristocracies by iia obligations to support tlie 
iaterests of its members, in preference lo others of e<(iial qualilica- 

ttions. 
, " It blasphemes ilie name, and attempts a person ificatioa of th* 
iCreat Jehovah. 
" It prostitutes the Sacred Scripture? to unholy purposes, to lub* 
»erve its own secular ant! trifling concerns. 
" It weakens the sanciions of nioralily and religion, by the mul- 
'tlpUcation of profane oaths, and an immoral fainiliariiy with relig* 
ioUB forma and ceremnnie". 

" II destroys a veneration for religion and religious ordinance!, 
by the profane use of religious forms. 

" It Bubslilutes the self righteousness and ceremonies of Mason- 
ry for the vital religion and ordinances of ihe Gospel. 

" It promotes habits of idleness and intemperance, by its mefn- 
bers neglecting their business to attend itui njeeiings and drinli iu 
libations. 

»" It accumulates funds at the expenie of indi;{enl persins, and 
.to the distress of their families, Uio often to be dissipated in rioting 
uid pleasure, and its senseless ceremonies and exhibitions. 
" It contracts the cympatliies of the human heart for all iha un- 
fortunate, by confining its charities to its own members ; and pro* 
motes the interests of a few at the expense of the many. 

" An institution thus fraught with so many and great evils, a 
dangerous to our government and the safety of our cilixenf, and ii ,] 
unfil to exist among a free people: We, therefore, believing it a 
duty we owe to Gon, our country, and to posterity, resolve to ex- 
pose its mystery, wickedness and tendency, to public riew — and 
fWe exhort all ciiizens, who Itave a love of country and a veneration 
[ -for its laws, a spirit of our holy religion, and a regard for the wel- 
[ fare of mankind, ui aid us in the cause which we have espoused." 
All of which i* respectfully submilied. 

MOSKS THATCHER, 

Per OrdtJT. , 
The above Report was unanimously I'cepled. 



I 







On motion of Asai-u CHi;nciiii.L, Esq. 

Voted, TIml Messrs. CnuRcmi.i., of Norfolk: Odh 
folk: Adams, of Middlesex i Reei.. of Ewes; White, of Fn _ 
lin; SpiiAcLE. nf Plymoulh: Bukbank, of Worcester, and Rra- 
EF.L, of Itrisiol, be a Committee to draft Resolutions, esprCMivo of 
the sense of iliis Conveiuion on the suiijeci of Speculative Free Mn- 
■onry. TJie Hollowing were rejiortciJ and adopted by ilie Convention 

RESOLUTIONS. 

Rtsohc--', Thai all Sociplic-s' should be open and amenable to 
public, and ihnt the existence of any Afisociation whose objt 
principles am) raeasurea are secret and concealed, it) hostile 
spirit of our free Inatitutions. 

Rrsohed, That ihft disclosures ofFrec Masonrj- made by Wi 
Morgan, by tlie Le Roy C'Onvcniion, and by Elder Bernard ana 
Oilier^. RiJow the system to be scllieb, revengeful and impious, and 
its ouriis to be dangerous lo our priinie rigbia and our public 

Itrsnhe/!. That there is evidence before this Convention that 
Jioynl Arch Free Masons, impelled by a sense of their Masonic ob- 
ligaiionx. have robbed their country of the services of a free citizen, 
that the Institutinn retains within it* bosom the men who bave At 
this i-iolence, and that the Grand Lodge of New York has 
uted of its funds to pay the expenses of the same, and that Chi 
ters ami subordinate IJodges have also appropriated liberally of their 
goods to support the perpetrators of Ai'e/»n^;>i>ur and ttUrdged murder. 

RtsiilrrtI, That the system is one and indivisible, whether con- 
sisting of three degrees or fitly, that il is ercctud on the same foun- 
dation, conslrucled in the same form, inhabited by the same spirit, 
and governed by the same laws ; that the acts of exalted Free Ma- 
sons, and ofLodges and Chapters in one State, arc the responsible 
acta of the whole system in the United States, and that it is proi 
to make Free Masonry answer for the conduct of iLs constituted 
ihorilies wherever ibey are situated. 

Rnolvrd, That in view of the premijes we ronpectfiilly reqi 
the Grand Praternitiea of Free Masons in the Slate of MaBsacfatt- 
seitfl, fo 'HifiUoir.ihip the Grand Lodge, ihe Grand Chapter, and the 
Grand Encampmrnt nf the State of New York which hold in their 
Masonic embrace the perpetrators of the violence upon William 
Morgan, and either to deny ihe truth of the al>ove named disclo- 
sures, or to renounce the sysipm, and the oaths of Free Masonry 
which have been palmed upon the honest Free Masons of iha 
present generation as the favorite work of the wise king Solomon,j 






aiDie 



~ present generation as tne lavorite worK oi Ihe wise king ESolomon,^H 

and of their tutelar, St. John. ^^| 

Rrsolvrd, That the Anti-Masonic State Committee be direeiedtl^^l 

^^ farnhh each onf of the Grand Officwsof the Grand Lodge, and tli^^| 



«1 

Grand Chapter, and the Grand Encnnipment, nnd the Grand Coui^ 
ci) of the Free Masons in this State with a copy of these Resoln* 
tions. particularly urging this our earneBt ret|Uesl, and that i 
(his Convention adjourns, tl be to soine day convenient to rccei*v 
tlieir answer, in the hope that the wisdom of their reply will relier* 
the public mind of any anxiety resfiecting the Institution of Specie 
lalire Free Masonry. 

Rtfohf-d, Thai in (he opinion of this Convention the oaths i 
posed by Free Masonry are in a very high degree profane, and ( 
tirely destitute of any moral nhligation, or legal binding force. 

Rfsotvfd, On the Report ofthe Committee appointed to inquim 
how lar Free Masonry and French Illuininism are connected, 

That thfre if fvidmi-e of an intimate connexion between the. 
I higher orders of Free Masonry and French Illui 

I On motion of Dr. Abneh Phei-ph, 

*" Voted, That Messrs. Phelps, of SutToIk ; Gafsett, of do. and 
CoNODD\, of Bristol, he a coTnmiilee to lake into consideration t 
mibject of a National Convention lo be holden at Philadelphia, 
the lllh September next. Who subsequently reported the follow- 
ing Resolve: 

RfSohid, Thai we highlv approve of the proposition for a N»» 
tional Convention to be holdcn at Philadelphia, on the 1 1th <^ 
September next for the purposes recommended by the Patriots of 
the great Slate of New York, and that this Commonwealth ought U> 
to be fully represented in said Convention. 

A Commillec of one from each County subsequently nominatod 
the following Gentlemen who were unanimously chosen to attend j 
Uw National Convention, viz : 

HENRY GASSETT, Esq. ) 

Dn. ABNER PHELPS, 

AMASA WALKER, ) 

Dn. ABRAHAM R. THO.WPSON, of Middlewx. 

STEPHEN OLIVER, Esq. of Esses. 

Cot. PLiNY MERRICK. Ur w™««-, 

Hon. BEZALEEL TAFT. Jr. ("' "w^""- 

Gen. EPAPHRUS HOYT, of Franklin. 

Rev. MOSES THATCHER, I , «„ f ,,, 

JOSEPH MORTON, Esq. {°' """"'"■ 

NATHAN LAZELL. Jr, Esq. of Plymouth, 

MICAH 11. RUGGLES, Esq. of Brislol, 

VoUd, That the remaining Delegates be chosen hereafter in tb« I 
Counties not represented in this Convention, and that the Stat* | 
Committee have power to fill all vacaiiciei that 



of Suffolk. 




On motion of Gen. ErArnntra Horr, 

Voted, That Mcssr.'. Oliver, of Exscx ; Conodon, of Brisio) ; 
Lazbll, of Plymoulh ; PcTEBi. of WorcealPr :Wii.li*mb. of Frank- 
lin, Thacber, of Norfolk, and Adams, of Middlesex, bo a Com- 
mittee to take into considfration the expediency of organizing 
Slate, County, Towa ond District CommJiteeB, who subaeijently 
made the following ^^ 

REPORT. ■ 

That as the great object of this Convention is to spread infornitffl 
tion before the people on the subject of Free Maeonry, it is obvious 
that assistance must be employed in various parts of ibis Comraon- 
wealth. They, therefore, respectfully recommend, that the gentle- 
men composing the Svfotk Committee, be appoinied a Stale Com- 
mittee, for the purpose of ditfustng such information, holding such 
correspondence, publishing such documents and papers, and other- 
wise attending to all the objects of this Convention, as they may 
think proper. 

Further, they recommend, that a County Committee be appoint- 
ed in each County, (where they are not already chosen,) in such 
manner as the people in those Counties shall determine. And that 
it be the duly of each Anti-masonic County Committee in this 
Commonwealth to correspond with the State Committee, and Ward 
or Town Committees, within their respective Counties ; collect and 
diffuse information on the subject of Free Masonry; call meetings 
and otherwise attend to the objects of this Convention as they may 
think proper ; and also, that each Committee, appointed under this 
organization, fill their own vacancies ; and when any member, or 
members of either State, County, Ward, Town or District Commit- 
tee, shall be present at the meeting of either of the above named 
Committees, he or they shall be considered members of the same, 
and act accordingly. 

All of which is respectfully eubmitted. ^h 

The above Report was unanimously accepted. ^H 

On motion of Mr. Walker, of Suffolk, ^B 

Vole,!, That A. W. Paine, Esq. of Suffolk, Hevbt Hobart, 
Esq. of Worcester, and Nathan Pratt, Esq. of do. be a Commit- 
tee to take into consideration tlie Laws of this Slate, in relation to 
extra judicial oatha. 

This Committee subsequently presented a very elaborate and in- 
teresting Report, in which was embodied a large mass of highly 
important information, but its great length prevents its insert' 
this abstract of the proc«odingi. The Report was referred 1 
State Committee. 





I 



if U'lLLUM Mabston, Esq. 

VoUd, Thai Messrs, M*bhtojj, of Suffolk, Allen, of Esse*,' 
Bl'ksank, of Worcester, Allen, of Plymouth, Mororidgb, 
Brislot, Allen, of Norfolk, and Williams, of Franklin, be a Coro- 
mittee to aacertain the number of Lodf^es, Chapter?, Encampment! 
and Councils of Free Masons in this Commonwealth, and the num- 
ber ofOfficers, Ciril, Religious and Military, which are held bj[ 
Fres Masoaa. 

The Report of this Committee was accepted, aa fbllows : 



Your Committee chosen 
Chapters, Encampments and Councilt 
Commonwealth, and the number < 
number of officers, civil, religious 
Masona : beg leave to report, iitt 
arduous, and important duty 



: number of Iv^dgeS*, 

Free Masons in this 

if members of each, and what 

and military, are held by Free 

t they feel the responsibility of 

that ail ilie Countii 



I 



represented in this Convention ; therefore your Committee n 
necessity go beyond (he Counties here represented ti 
whole. That it requires more time than is allowed them at the 
pieseni session of this Convention, they therefore respectfully ask 
the privilege of making their final report at the adjourned meeting 
of this Convention. 



i 



IN CONVENTION, JAN. 1, 1830. ^M 

The following Vote of Thanki) was passed by the Conventioll^l 
Doctor Abnkr Phelps, First Vice President, in the' Chair. 

On motion of Rev. Mr. Sanborn, of Middlesex, 
Vattil, That the (Aunts of this Convention be presented to 
Plinv Merrick, Ei«i. for the important information which he haa 
frankly comrauuicaled relative to the interesting subject of Free 
Masonry, and also for the able, dignified and impartial manner in 
which he has presided over its deliberations during the session. 

After which, the President resumed the Chair, and made an ap- 
propriate reply. 

On motion of Mr. Thatcher, of Norfolk. 

Voteti, That the thanks of the Convention be presented to the 
Vice Presidents and Secretaries for their important services in ihia 
body. 

^'bitney. Jr. of Suffolk. 

hanks of this Contention be presented lo 

Esq. for his generous, patriotic and valuable 



On motion of Mr. 
Voted. That ihe 



£4 

On motioDof Dr. Tbompbox, of Middlesex. 

Voted, That the thanks of this Convention be presented 
the Sbcedino M.tso.Ns present, for the important inlbnnalion and 
tid received from them, by this Convention. 

On motion of Co!. Biirbans, of Worcester, 

Voted, That the thanks of this Convention, be presented 
the Suffolk Committee, for (heir faitbliil, indefatigahle and pt 
otic services in the great cause of Antj Masonry and civil litiei 

On motion of Mr. Thai;eh, of Snffolk, 

Voted, Tlial the thanks of this Convention be presented to' 
the several A»ti Masonic Coo\tv Committees for their faiihfjl 
and devoted services iu the cause in which we are engaged. 

On motion of Deacon W, Cbef.ver, of Worcester, 

Voltii, Thai the thanks of this Convention be presented to 
the Honorable the Mayor and Aldermen of the City of Boston, for 
the use ofFaneuil Hull, during its silling, and that the Secretary tw 
requested to communicate this resolution to the Honorable Board. 

The Committee on Adjournment, made the following Report, 
which was accepted. 

The Committee to whom was referred the consideration of the 
■djournraent of ibis Convention to a future day have attended to 
that duly and respectfully suggest, 

That the further consideration of this subject be referred to the 
State Committee chosen by this Conveniiou — and that said Com- 
e be authorized to notify a meeting of said Convention at such 
lime as they may deem expedient, provided it be done prior to the 
first of October next, and then to be convened iu Boston, and whec 
this Convention adjourn, it adjourn accordingly. 



oall 
and 

4 




All which is rcspecifully submitted. 

Voted, That this Convention do now adjourn. 



Per Order. 



BOSTON, JATiUARV I, 1830. 





APPfSITDIX. 



CHANGES IN COMMITTEES. 

A comiDuiiicitiaa hitiog been recoiTed from Doctor Butiims WiTSKKODH 
HiildlcKiittilingthU in contequance ofaicluieu in liii (unilj he ihouldbe uubla 
to attend daring the letting of tb« CoLTgnlioo. 

Voud, That HiHRT Dktik Ward, Eaq. be placed on the CommitUe on the Ai^ 
tiquit]' of Free Mnoorj, lo GU the Tacucf occuioncd bj the abuDce of Dachn 

WaTERHODII. 

Hon. Thohii KinoaLL, Suffolk, addrexed a note lo the Preiident of the Coa- 
lentioa, layii^ that the doatb of one of the mamberaof bit family, would ren- 
dered it imprscticible for him to give further attendtnce during the •ciiion, on 

Voltd, Thai W. W. BLacE, Esq. of SaSblk, bo appointed la rapplj Iha laeanc; 
Id the Committee, on the Addreu to the people. 

Mr. PSATT, of ShrewriMrj. wai eicuied from aerring an; further upon the Com- 
mittee, on Extrm Judicial Oathi, and Ur. Walur, of Boaton, waa choaen in U> 

DELEGATES 



Choien at the aBTera] Countj 

[ET'nie Publiihing Committee hai 

publicl; declined. There ware aome 

baa been recoiled of their haTingdaclii 

aoppieaa their namea. Ilej belonged 

SUFFOLK. 
John D. vniliama, 
Hon. Thomaa Keodifl, 
Hon, C^orge Odiorae, 
Hon. Jacob Hall, 
Hoa. Henuw LiBOoln, 
Heorr Gauetl, 
Jonathan French, 
TboDtaa Wajlej, 
BaniaminW.Ufflb, 
Dutel Weld, 
Kbeneior Witbingtaoi 
Dr, Abner Phelpe, 
William W. Blahe,' 
BenjimiD V, French, 
William Haratos, 
Joel Thajer, 



Meetinga, to Ihe Stala CMientloB. 
re withdrawn Ihe nimca of tboea who hm 
olhen who did not ttteiid, but aa n e notiM 
led, the Committee did not feel anthoriwd ta 
principallj to Eiaex and Middlaati-] 

Ephralm Ball, 
John P. Whitwell, 
Jonathan SimoodL 
Cbarlea CleTelani^ 
Jmaph Uarl, 
Ebenaier Clongb, 



Dr. laaac U. AinletM. 
Samee] S. MilS, 
Simon K. Hewin, 
N. Fiaher Amaa, 
Moia* Whitney, At 
Dr. lauc PorMr, 




Join. Ml"!.. 

HLV.MOVTir. 

M.Pooi, t;..|. ..!■ Abma 

Cipl. J.ihii CofthijU, d 



N. Luell, Jr. Bridgewater, 
Holme* Spti^.?, do. 
D(>. Eira Fnrbsi. da. 
M. Jenkinn.Jr.E. Bridinw'r 
JuBob Bnles, da. 

Wm. Lorinrr, Esq.Dttibn, 
Woodswnrlh Chimdlsr, do. 
Ichabod Alden. Eiq. do, 
S. P. Merrill, Sciwato, 
Col. SamusI Tolnnn, dn. 
laiiih Alden, Jr. do, 

Her. E. Smith, Hinorar, 
Hontio Cuahing. Bin. dt. 
Dci. S. Thompson. Mid'bo. 
A. tliogmui.Biq. N.Bridg'r. 
(Jipt. Dniid Amoi, do. 

MIDDLESEX. 
Dr,B. Wilefhonic.Ciim, 
Hon. TImnlhy riiljor, do. 
Francli Bowman, do. 
JonMlVler.CTharlMlown, 
Dr. A. R. Thompioa. do. 



N. Adann, Ewi.Medfard, 
Dariui Wait, dn, 

Kthuo Hirdjr, Wallham, 
D«a. EliphiletPaanOD, do. 
willird Fenclium, do, 

Rot. Jared Held, RBadiog, 
R«T. PeWr Saabora I do. 
Capl. Elinb Parker, do. 

B. Wjmin, B^. Woburn, 
JfiBiL Thorn pion, Jr. do. 
C1.0I J. SleH, Sionfbam, 
Cmi. John H. WricM, do. 
E.Tufta, Wcit Cambrida«, 
Dd^ T. Bsldnin, Brtsbton, 
J. Ciillnr, South Reading, 
' '■■ rlc.^, Jr. Eaq. do. 



Adun Hawkvf, do. 

Bouben Gerrv, do. 

" ' ' P, Merriam, Letg'n. 
•--• Culler, di 



Jolin A. FiKili. Hon^iinlon, 
Thomas Odiorne. Maiden, 
ieTuKle, " 



). Woallier 



I. dn. 



... .. .,r. E*q. Conoonl, 

Hon. Nathan Bronhi. do. 
K. Brooba, Raq. LinEoln, 
T. Clatk. E>q. E. iiudbUTJ, 
W, W. Bridee, l-^q. do. 
JohnCWk.Walertowi., 
Joni, Eamea. Wilmington, 
John Sinionda, B«.iri>rd, 
Rev.J. Cottuin. Tewk.b'T. 

NOKFOLR. 
Mai. A Slptaon, Braintroa, 
Jacob Allen, do. 

Nath. French, Sd. CanloB, 
Plinj Brigham, Dedhun, 
Jnbei Bo V den, do. 
Herman Mann, do. 
Col. N. Ford, Doreheittr, 
Lewia Pierce, do. 

Col. Edward FnslM. do. 
Dr. (i. M. Peck. Fniboro' 
H. C. Flaher. Franklin. 
M. Rlchsnlaon. Medflald, 
S. Snndfnrd, Modtnj', 
Jowph Mortnii, Millan, 
Aaapn Chiirchrll, do. 
CJeo. T. Tavint, Qaincv, 
William Wood, do. " 
Selh Mann, Randolph, 
Zenaa French. £aq, do. 
A. V. Williama, Koiboij, 
Cape. J. Carlit, do. 



Col. J. Pierce. Stoanb Cod, 

Hoger ijumner, do. 
Doiu E, Hunt, Weyiuootb, 
Dr. AppleionHoiva, do. 
F. A. KininbarT, E«. do. 
Col. G. Hawea, Wrenlbia, 
Bflir. M, T.Wher, do. 
Lebena Porter, do. 

R. Laird. Eao. Kewbnrrport 
Wm.S. Allen, E.q. do. 
E. W. Allen, do. 
E. S. Williama, Eaq. do. 
- •~—i, E«q. Ameah 



ui Aubin, 
IS Hon 



do. 



J. Geriafa, Elaq. TiewlMrf, 
Rnbert Brniro, da. 

Col. D. Aclama, do. 
JohnBailei',ByBBld, 
Benj.Colman, do. 
(ieorco RoBcr>,Cilouce*tw, 
Amoa King. Jr. DaoTCr*, 
D. P. King, Eiq. do. 
Kdward Southwiok, do. 
Hetij, Puker. Bivdrord, 
Joiio Wood, Rowlir, 
Jobn Patia;, 



«7 



■S. BreektetMmk, Rowley. 
David Sanndera. do. 
Wm. Mundiy, Topsfield, 
Frederick Perley, do. 
Jacob Tuwne, Ksq. do. 
Thos. Mansfield, Saugus, 
Joaeph Dampncy^ do. 
Jonathan Buffum, Lynn, 
JStephen Oliver, do. 
W- B. Breed, Esq. do. 
rhrist'r Bubier, do. 
Charles Merritt, do. 
Joseph B. Breed, do. 
Joseph Breed, 3d. do. 
Thomas Bowler, do. 
John Alley, 3d. do. 
Josiah R. Clodgh, do. 
Nathan Breed, do. 
Dayid Taylor. Lynnfield, 
^ohn Upton, Jr. do. 
Joshua Hawks, do. 
Joihua Howes, do. 
Maj-J. Peabody, Bozford, 
^Charles Perley, do. 

WORCESTER. 
Col. P. Merrick, Worcester 
Rev. J. Goff, Millbury, 
J. Hobart, Esq. Leicester, 
A. Rice, Esq* Northbridge, 
L. Peters, Esq. Westboro' 
Gen. F. Gregory, Royalston, 
Col.G. Burbank. Worcester 
Col. Z. Cary, Ward, 
Dea. W. Cheever,N.Brookf. 
Rev. J. Fiske, N.Braintree, 
Benj. Wood, Upton, 
Capt. E. Johnson,Southboro 
N. Pratt, Shrewsbury, 
J. Hinds, Esq. W.' Boylston, 
Hon. B. Taft, Jr. Uxbridge, 
G«l. W. Eager, Nortbboro^ 



J. Lamb, Esq. Sturbridge. 
E. Merriam.Esq. W.Brookf. 
Rev.J.Clnrk. Rutland. 

BKiyroL. 

M. K<»m|:rf..i, ;\. iicdford, 
Chs. AIor;j[ri»l_c, ilv>. 
Joseph ('un^doii. do. 
Mic:ili H. Ruggles, Troy, 
David Anthony, do. 

James Shearman, do. 
John S. Rufiscll, Taunton^ 
Georffe Walker, Jr. do. 
John Read, Jr. do. 
Gideon (^hase, Somerset, 
Luther Lincoln, Norton, 
( bs. Wbitmarsh, Dighton^ 
B. Allen, Fair Haven, 
Robert Shearman, Swansey, 
TilIin<rhaBt Almy, Wor toort, 
Sam'l French, Jr. Bcrklev, 
Lemuel Morse, Rehoboth, 
Abiatlier Thayer. Atlleboro' 
Row'd Greene, Mansfield, y 
J. C. Starkweather, Pawt'kt 
• Lyman S. Claflin, Seekonk, 
Earl Sampson, Freetown, 
G. Robertson, Ravnham. 

FRAlSKLfN. 
Gen. E. Hoyt. Dcerfield, 
Stephen Whitney, Esq. do. 
Eliiah Williams, 2d. do. 
William Russell, do. 
Samuel Peirce, Colerain, 
Michael M'Clennan, do. 
Isaac Brown, Charlemont, 
Col. J. Lonpley. Hawley, 
Joseph W. Hunt, Heath. 
Ephr'ni Pratt, Shutcsbury, 
Lewis Stone, Wendell, 
Wm. Smith, ^^ew Salem. 
CapL J. White, Northfield. 



ADDEJTDA. 



(C^ The Report of the Committee on the connection between 
FRENCH ILLUMINISM and the higher dfigrces of FREE 

(MASONRY came into the hands of the Puhlishing Committee h 

at a late hour, and upon reflection the; deemed it eipedieut to ■ 

insert it in this publication. H 

REPORT. I 

toar Committte, appointed to inquire how fjir Free Miaoniy and French ^| 



lueslion.thejir 
inglj be .dducf 



We mufl be permilted to cxliil>il the origin lad nature of Ultiminiim ; and 
the evidence of itsheiag planted in our Unittil Slalci .' In iheie will be round 
iu connexion with Free Masonry. 

1. The origin snd deiign of llluminism will be given. 

When (he French revaluUon iBloniiihed the world, in 1789, we icjuiced is 
the thought ihRl it wis fram a spark of the Irue iipirit of liberty from Amerio, 
oughl acroig the Atlantic. But the enormities of the French /evolution *ood 
evinced, ihal ii had an origin vei; different froin that of the resolution is 
America. And in the reign of tenor there, the world stood gghait, net know- 
ing the cause. But soon il waa developed. Two auliiors, at once, exhibited 
it to the world. The celebrated JouH Robinson, Profcuor of Natural Phi- 
losophj in the University of Edinburgh, and the Abba Barrucl. of France, 
two men in different kingdoms, unacquainted with each other, wrote eacb hi* 
volume, to unfold a most horrid system. They puraued different plana ; but 
met, in every euenliol point, and ^ve the same original leltera, dociimena, 
and watch wordi; and thus eibibiled the beat posaible evidence thai their Je- 
velopments were correct, and mieht be fully relied on. Dr. RoBiHSOH'a chartc- 
ler waa at once attacked, according to the expres* plan of IllBminiam, to de- 
Btroy hia lealimoDy. This occaBioaed in inquiry into hia character; which 
was ascertained (o be moel excellent in point of morality, sls'bilily, and eical' 
tence ; aiid he was indeed ranked among the highest literary dignitltiea Ot • ^1 
Europe and America. (See Payson's Modern And-Chrlat : and fimidionlhe H 
Prophecies, 3d edition.] Home facta from Ihe contents of these volumei ^M 
will now be conci-ely given. ^H 

The French Philosopher. Voltaire, about the middle ofthit'lastcenlutT, ■ 

formed a plot to desloy Ihe Christian Religion. He was wonl to say, "l>iii 
weary of healing people repeat, that twelve men established Chriatiaaity : I 
wiil prove, that one may suffice to overthrow it !" And to thii object he vow- 
ad to dedicate hi* life. To one, who said to him, you will never ovsrihron 
_ Ckriatianilyi ba replied, "that is what we shall aee." ^k 



mn laws, in l]i< 




! he perfected i 


ind<. Ihe 


framed inio a - 


.v,>em of 




am iuretlde^ij 




: view of M))Di 


n.' io tbe 


I learn oalr. Ibal 


M»OD7 



I 



30 

To effew lhi« wilt, ht idopled ihe'rnoiA o/pAjJojopRy. Tilt* SffpsO^^^ 
utheiiBlf"govemtito/li/t.'" Under il, be wiged wu %i[b rflveiled Re- 
ligion. Voltaire now atsoci.ted wilh hinnflf » number of French philoso- 
phen, who hurt bi grem enmilj an hiinself a|;aiQst our revealed Rettclan ; alio 
the celebrated FncDERicic, of PrUHsU ; wilh leven other cronned beiida of 
Europe, of whom he was heard loboait ty naine,- and beaidei, six or seven 
prineea, and prinCBs.iei. Here were the firsi chsmplont of ihe plot, which 
w«i fomieil wilh * most profound depth of inlrigue, and of concealmenl. — 
The landen *ll received Rclitioiii names ; and also Inniacted their bufineis in 
■ lansuage newlj invented for the purpose. Their operations commenced: 
■nd their sucesses, in corropt Catholic regions, were attoaithing even to iheai- 
aelves. Aiid Ihcy soon began to boast among themaelven of the power of le- 
erel aocielieN ; and of the facililj, witb which the world may be bound wilh 
invi lib le hands ! Among Iheir watch words, were the following: "Hurl the 
javelin ; but conceal the hand !" " Crush the wretch," meahine the Lord 
JeiITS CmkiitI " Slrilte deep; but hide Ihe band that gives the Litow." 

Th« destruction of the Christian Religion, was the (irst abject of ihii ctm- 
■pintcj. But iu niaDtgers were led to asaoeiate wilh it the aub?ersioa of all 
le^limate civil government; and all nnnl reatrunta upon Ihe lusta and pas* 

Theplotforlhia two-fold object, received its GnishinB touch from the cele- 
brated infidel, Adam WEiFHAUPr, Frufeawr o 
■i^r of In so! audi, in Germnnj. This horrid sel 
name of Affuniniirrn, or St/slem of Light. This 
hijdier degrees of Masonry; and Speculative ^ 
graip, as a most fit cover for its occult operaliant 
wilh the grcDleHt possible caulion, concealed fror 
first degrees of their order. They were permitti 

higher and higher degrees : till it reached a ivondetful height of perfection and 

A cnndidafe, marked for iheir prey, would have his attention arresled by 
■ome hint, (dropped in his hearing by some man of good appearance, but 
>«ermin|; to be aci'ideBUl,) of Ihe great power and benefit of secret «ocieliei! 
That Ih^re were such societies under the direction of the Rreatcst and belt of 
men, who were going to reform the world, and render it nappy. TThere the 
bait was found to be taking, the candidate soon found himself conducted to 
the avenue of this ayilem of light and glory. He wai here, of courae, l»d 
-under the moat binding obligations of infallible tecresy '• and of obedience u> 
nnlenown leadeia. And he was thence led on, through risinp degrees, by some 
of the adepts, whose real object was, to form a full acquaintance with hint ; 
and to erase from his mind all impressions of religion and morality, which 
misht be there found. He wia hence to be prepared for higher degrees of 
ihefr infidel ca-t. To these higher degrees he was admitted, as soon as ii 
wu fiiund he might receive them without atami : and his admission was with 
the most imposing fnmialities. But whcje his pliancy for inlideiity was doubt' 
ful,thedoublful cninlldiiie received his " lia frene;" and was carried nobightr. 
Those who proceeded onward, were trained in t school of infideli^. and in- 
ured lo cruelty and blood, by rifei and /oJ(«, the most appropriate Jbr tLi 

Their highest secret, {which in the French revolution was thrown open 
without disguise) was, "There is no GodI" "Death is an elemal sleep'" 
Theiraenlimenis now came forth to the light, amply stored with such senleo- 
rea aa the following : " Atl ideas of justice and injustice, of virtue and vice, 
■nd of glorv and infamy, are purely arbitrary .V " The man that ia above law. 
can commii wilhoiil remorse Ihe acl That may aervB his purpose." " The f*ii 
■«f the Iiord is so fnr from being the beginning of wisdom, uiat it is the begia- 
D in e of folly." "Modesty is only an invenlionof refined voluptuousness." 
-"The Gon of the .lews and of Chriatians ia but a chimera,! phantom. Jksih 
•Cum ST is an impostor." 

The practical maxims of this syitein, were such as follows ; '* Extend tti 
•maltipJj' Om children of light, till force and numben ehall ihsow power ill* 



31 



m 



jourlnndi; tfaen he«t>u no ImBer, btn begin lo rander jounelrei fbrmldS' 
ble." "N»lion»muit be brought back by wlutever meuii: peacepbly, if it 
miy be : if not, then by foice. Atl subordmaaon mual bo made to vaniili 
frotn the earlii !'* In ihii tjvtcin, llic words " reaton," " ioUratioa," •' Aunun- 
ity," were used as a quielia, liU ibej could call to arms. 

The ranks ol [lluminism mere thiia swelled ; and hundreda of thouainds be- 
CBiDG tolly prepared lo rise io uruig, to orrjr their dEiigas into effect. Bad the 
iTorld wan preaenled with a nation of armed alheiits J The horrora of the 

Wben honeal Masons, of the luirer degrees, (nha bad not gone up to tb* 
higher aecreis of infidelity «nd anarchy, and had sot known their deiigoa,) . 
learned the use thus made of their Masonic order, they cloaed Iheir templei 
and and '. One addre^ised hia Masonic a^iSDciate^i, of the lower degrsca, thu«: 
- Brelhren, and companions ; give free vent I* your sorrow I The daya of in- 
nocent equality are gone by. However holy our myaleriea may have besa, llut 
I.odges are now profaned and sullied. Let your tears How. Attired in your 
moumine robes, attend, and let us seal up the gate* of our temples; for iha 
profane hare found means to peneiiate inio them. They hive luroed them 
into relreils for their impiety, and dens of conspirators. Within the sacred 
walls tbey have planned their borriil deeds, and the ruin of nations, Liej oa 
weep over our legionM, whom they have seduced. Lodges that may serve M 
hiding places for eonipirators, must for ever remain shut, both lo us and 14 
every good citizen." Professor Robihboh himself hadbeeu a MMon. Bui, 
on diicoveriug the fact, that llluminism had been planted by its side, and bod 
been perfecting \bt horrid designs under its cmtr, be renounced it for ever ; 
and advised all bis itiaNonic brethren, in Oit world, lo do tlie same. 

We ihua leirn the words of lioneal European Masons, relative to (be con- 
neKion between Klasons, and [lluminista. Thai Masonry had aclually been 
adopted as a most fit vehicle of llluminism ; while yet this was designed ID b* 
most cautiously concealed from Masons in the lower degrees. 

2. Thi* thing may further appear, when we consider that llluminism ba* 
been planted in our United Slates. Illuminiim was not designed for amuse- 
meal \ but to bind the warld with invisible hands i and to bring back the tmi 
liiRS from Iheir Cbtislian religion, and legitimale governments. Would inch 
a Geld as America then, be overlooked by the IllumineeB.' Sooner would it have 
a tenfold proportion of their effortnl Every consideration, eveiy inipurlanl 
circumstance testifies to Ibis. And both Roainsii.'v and BABIti''l:t. testify lo 
ibe fact. Upon the list of Ihelr societies given by the former, several arc men- 
tioned as existing In America before the year 1189. BaBSIIEI:, tuenlionl ■ 
todce ol'ihis ordcrin Portsmouth. Virginia; and tno lodges as havingdaicend- 
ed &o<n it. PrcMdenl Dwigltf, hence wrote, in lT9d, " llluminism eiisls in 
Ihia country ; and llie impious mockery of the sacramenlsl supper, dosoribed 
by Roni»aa.'(,ia ncied here." Again he thus wrote; " ur>der these circum- 
alancei were Juunded the ■oeletlen of Illuminisin. They spread of ,coiiMe 
with a rapidity, which nothing but fact could have induced a sober mind to 
believe. Before the year ITSti, they were established in great numbers thraugb- 
oul Germany, in Sweden, MadHd, Poland, Austria, Holland, Switzerland, 
Italy, England, Scollnnd, and .Imrrica. In all tliene places was taught the 
grand (weeping principle of corruplion, that the goodness of llie end sanctifies 
flio means." GiaTJtnMKn, in hia Meinoira on (Ac Frencli Heralution, says, 
■> The acdve members of the propagandists were (in 1791 ) 5l1,iil>0, Their 
fundi were then thirty millions of livres. They are cxlendcd over ihe face of 
the world, hai-ing for ilieir object the promotion of revolutions, and the doc- 
trines of Atheism. And it ia a maxim in their code tJiai it is belter lo dafar 
their attempts fifty years, than to fail of auccess through loo much precipi- 

Firit-rote Mnonsin out land did, many years ago, or knowledge ihat lllumin- 
ism was planted here. A grand chaplain, by the name of Khhst, o( the roy- 
al Arcb Masons of New York, (2H years ago) warned his brethren ihui : 
"The deep designs of modem Maxoni, called ihe lllumrnnti, who have in UD- 
daled Europe, and are fiat gaining ground in America, have clearly demon- 
BMted ihc sbuseuDtylad Masonic Loilye* have met with. andtiuw v^K^.-Wtisa 



1 



I 




' Civiitllin>wn, revoluiiamzed, inil moulded at pit 
■aiiH have repsalHllr fiven limit 

wtoni ID Preridont 'Dwieht. [hua : " The Lodge, to 
tousidcred. by me »a under Ihe tnodarn leim orMisc 
Biejnbera (in 1791) were mosflj French, 



Muonie principle*, eanbe 

■ure!" GFini! Muter Mt- 

, riocipla officer of the onler 

The Lodge, to which jou allude, wu 

irMisoniT, (Illuminw " ' 



of that French Lodge, "l 



■nd the numbet of their 



a devcendan 



e Grand 



" Thai JQJ had giiod reanon lo suspect (ho 
blVe DO reaion. n^r ever hod, 10 duubl." 

Tb« lite Rev. Dr. MoKsr, many years ago in > printed ■cnnon, 
lh« public of an official commuuicalioii Trom the llluminiled Lodge V 
of Portsmouth, Virginia, to the Itluminated Lodge Un» "" ' 

Utervepied. In ii were the nnmea oF their oSicer 
*depla; being Ihen lUI), mostly French. In this le 
were Ifaoaaanda of niich Lodge* of ItlnminisRi in It 
WBElern woHd. Thai this Lodge Wisd 
Orient of Porin— that Iho Lodge Union 
regitmi. The letter contained embliimi of dealh and carasge. It had Ihii 
mono, " Men believe Iheir eyes further than their ears. The way by precept 
11 long; but short and efDcaciou? by examples." A hint neeios here lo be 
$\veti, of (he deaign of their Jlamntc einbienm and fabtea : being a pncticil 
teachin); of infidelity. 

A member of that Lodge WLsdom wa< heard to boast, (while Uie Fre»fh 
revolution was well thought of in Aniericn,) that he belonged to a Lodge in 
Germany, in which thai revolution was planned I 

Various other direcl evidencca mijchl be here adduced from writings, credi- 
ble doclirations, and facts ^m more tlian twenty yeuta; but ihoac prioled 



ark, tint modem rpi 
onry, now ptiblithcd 
indeed bee 



It ii needleva for your committee li 
tend, aa'l llic high degrees of Ame 
kaoiaa, sfford a full dumonstratkia thai Itluniinlsi 
and baa taken deep root in the United Stste?. 

As in Europe, lllmninum was moslsecrelly planted by the side of Speculi- 
Uve Ma'onr;. and litd (in a way unknown ta Masooa in the firit degrees) lo 
gross infiilelilj and licentiousness ; so it ha> been in our nation. 

Vour C:..nmiltee then, are of opinion that a distinction should be made be- 
liresn M.,^.;nfy. and Matons in the lower degrees. Thai, while we ulierly 
condemn ilic former, as having been found cnpable, both in Europe ami 
America, of bacominE a eovep of llluniininn ; as in iu nature lending to infi. 
dellly ;— 19 contiiining anti-republican tnd dan;;eroua partialities anjong citi- 
lens ! — aud >b resting on shoi^king and barbarous oaths snd peoallie^, which 
o'jghi never to be considered as posjeiaing any voral bmdiiigfirce ; we ought 
lo ieel a tender concern far many of our fellow citizens, in the lower degrees of 
Masonry, who hare been led to unite in their present ronneiion, wilb no de- 
■igns of promuilnj the horrid objects of llluminism. That wc ahould, Willi 
open bearU and arms, invite and urge them lo follow the eiiiDpteii of ibe 
many, wh« hav: ronouneed all connexion with a system >0 alarming, and •« 
inunenscly wickod and dangerous. — 

All nhich i:, rctpeclfuUy submitted. 

ETHAN SJIITII. Chairman 






MASONRY 



PROVED TO BE A 



WORK OF DAIUCNESS. 



HEPUGNANT TO THF. 



om^&is^sii^ :s^Xiii(PS®£fi 



INIMICAL TO A 
REPUBLICAN GOVERNMENT. 



LEBBECS ARMSTRONG, 



DBUVXABS IN 



' PkUadtlpkia, A'ftu York, Neieark, and oilier plac 



PUBLISHED BY REQUEST. 



lUmrSB XOK THE AGTHOB. 

1830. 



I 



DciR IJIK,— 

A nomber of indrnJuala wiio had the aiiportuoitj of hearing jour disconrGS 
lut evening, delivered io the meeting- he use of the Second Pretbyteriau Cborcli 
in thJH plice, on Ihc subject of SjKcuktive Freemaeonrji, have expressed a deaira 
that the Bsme be published; in furtherance of the wish ao expressed, we UQ of 
opinion that it will subserve the cause of correct principles, lo give publicitj to the 
same, by having the above stated discoiirac printed, — we therefore reqaeat that you 
will fumieh the manuscript far publication. 

Respectfully youra, 

James VARDBareoti, 
John Ali.1)<g, 
^K P. S. PtATT, 

^E Ellibon Cdnbeh, 

^^^ Luther Gohle, 

Edwaed Jokes. 
Rev. Lebeeus AfLMSTRonc. 

New York. October 5, 1830.^ 
To Messrs. James Vanderpool, John Ailing, P. S. Piatt, Kllison Conger, I 
Goble, and Edward Jones. 

Gentlemen, — In conformity to the above desire, with deference to the opinion 
expressed, and, especially in view of the reason which you have been pleased to 
assign in support of that opinion, I cheorfully comply with your reiuest, and do 
hereby transRiit a copy of the manuscript of my aiiicourse, above alluded to, for 
publication. 

I am rcepeclfully, 

•Your most obedient servant, 
Lebbeub Al 



830. ^B 
r,IiiitilF 





DISCOURSE. 



fellowship with the tinfndtful works of tUtrhiess, hut rather reprot 
.fir it is a shame even to speak of those things vrhich are done ofthei 
in secret. 

The works of darknesa comprise all tlint belonga lo the eyatem of moral evL 
Opposition to God, and holioesB, cbaracterizes their nature i Uie love ood praclic 
of thorn coDstilute llic guilt, and Icsd to the destructiou of mankiod. Satan, th 
first great enemy of God, introduced tbem into thia world, and it is by his specii 
instigation and agency that tbey still prevail. 

Every period of the world has been marked with some peculiar enormity, deaigc 
ed to dishonour God, and lo ruin the souls of men. Belbre the flood, the wicket 
ness of man was great in the earth. Subsequently, idolatry led mankind almoi 
universally, to the violation of the lirst commandment of that great law of insfi 
ration, " Thou shult have no other Gods before me." Hence, the ancienta wo; 
shipped their Apis and Crocodile, Baal and Moloch, Jupiter and Venus, and 
host of inferior deities. 

At the comoiencenient of the diristian Era, the world was ovcraprcad with Pt 
ganism, and (he various modes of heathen worship constituted the principal religio 
of mankind. Greece had long been the seat of philosophical literature, and th 
Eleusioian festivals were the most splendid and popular of all the heathen ceremc 
Dies. These were periodically celebrated by the Athenlina, in honour of Cerei 
the goddess of agriculture, and ber daughter Proserpine, who, according to th 
fftbulous legends of heathen mythology, was stolen by Pluto from the plains ( 
Sicily, and was transported to the i o fern ol regions, where she became queen of th 
world of darkness. To prepare for the Grand Festivals was the principal objet 
of the Echools of philosophy, and tbe public celebrations were scenes of the mot 
abominable wicbedncss- We are informed in the history of the ancients, tbi 
there were secrets belonging to this heathen festival which were "so superstitiousl 
observed, that ifany one ever revealed them, it was supposed he called divine vei 
geaoce on his head, and the wretch was put to an ignominious death." 

Such abomiaatioDs were practised in the apostolic age. and to them the bol 
apostle, doubtless, had allusioo, when he exhorted the Epbesian christians t 
" Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather repcov 
them i" and to enforce his admonition, added, "For it is asijameeven tospea 
of those things which are done of them in secret." 

This apostolic admonition is of universal application, and mankind at this period 
as well as in ages past, and especially all professing Christians, are bound to tt 
nounce the works of darkness wliich prevail in the world, of whatsoever kia 
they may be. 

Among the various stratagemsof Satan in opposition to God and holiness, an 
for the purpose of destroying the souls nf men, the institution of Speculative Free 
jnasoiiry holds a pre-eminent rank. Whatever may have been the circumstance 
of its origin, and the modes of its primary existence, the following are undeniabl 
fiusia: That tlie claims of Freemasonry ato very eKtenslTe; that (.ha Wi^Nwi*** 
Its of its nature are divulged to the world; anA \.\\am\e ftxyw'*'"^^*' J^ 
bo n work of darkneea. As long aa Musonty co\i\4 ^e V.ej\«. tn^*™** 
r Lj- gaccessFuUv, Bilhsr[odisiiul.o"ila c\nmi. ot V.o wfvwe\\*w& 



6o deep laiil, and elroagly fbrtJticil by its own iulernal powers ol'cancealmeai, waa 
tie institution of FreemsGonry, Uiat no earthly opponent could enervate its in&u- 
ence, dett^&te from its proressed importance, nor impede the progress of its osur- 

Sation. During the years of its prospeniy, it passed in the world as a bo&sted 
lysterf of Wonders, unsuspected of possessing means to control the energies of 
civil, military, and eccleeiastical governments; unsuspected of possessing power to 
take the lives of its members privately for the slightest oftence ; and unsuspected of 
being adequate to the work of forging chains to bind a naLion in the tyranny of 
Masonic Despot iem. 

But the light of thutii has been permitted to shine into the dark recess, and dis- 
cover to the world the enormity of the Masonic inatitotion. The diabolicaJ eo- 
diantment is broken. The mask of disguise which concealed the turpitude of its 
nature, has been rent asunder ; and the 'fact ia notorioUB. that Freemasonnr haa 
fallen before the truth, like the Philiatinea' Dagon before the Ark of the (jod of 
Israel. Like the fallen idol, its head and hands are broken off and daahed to 
atoms. Like those of Judas, its bowels are gushed out ; and instead of being the 
mystical wonder of the world, it has become the contempt of an Gnlightenod pub- 
lic; an object of the special abhoirencc of many of its onco deluded votaries who 
hava renounced it ; and every class of community may possess the means of infor- 
mation, become acquainted with itsnaturcandtondency, and judge for themselves 
whether it is good or bad. 

From the revelation which is made of its principles, it is now proposed to prove 
that the institution of Freemasonry is a work of darkness, end that its adherents 
are bound by the authority of heaven to renounce it. 

I. The institution of Freemasonry is a work of darkness, because 

IT GBOSSLV PERVERTS TUB QDLY FrltlPTUnES. 



Many of the names of masonic signs, and pass- words, and tokens, and professed 
history of degrees, are taken from the sncrcd writings, and hence the doctrine is 
palmed upon the world that Masonry is Ibunded on the word of God. Boaz and 
Jachin, Shibboleth and Tubal Cain, Joppa, Markwell, Rabboni, Jah, Jehovah, and 
many other masonic terms are taken from the Bible, and caodidatcs for tnasoiiic 
degrees are instructed tu believe that masonry is hence of divine origin, and that 
its professed sublime principles are in accordance with divine inspiration. 

That such premises and conclusion constitute a gross perversion of scripture, 
must bo obvious to every person of serious reflection. By this rule scriptiire terms 
and phrases might be selected, and so managed as to support the doctrine of sys- 
tematic inSdelity, with all its complicated auxiliaries of fajsebood, deception, liber- 
tinism, and epicurean revelry, in connexion with the unrestrained grstificaUoa of 
every vile propensity of fallen nature. To this use of scripture Satan resorted 
when he tempted our Saviour in the wilderness. And it would be no less prepoa- 
terouB to conclude,thaC Satan's principles, and doctrine, and motives were pure, and 
founded on the word of God. because he quoted a mutilated passage of scripture 
to prove that there would be no danger of falling to the rocks below, if Jeeua 
should cast himself headlong from the pmnacle of the temple in JertiEalem. than, 
to conclude, that because masonic terms arc taken from the bible, therefore, na- 
BOory is of divine origin. 

Freemasonry perverts the holy scriptures by introducing masonic traditions, and 
interpolations, to supply pretended dehciencies of the bible. Of this description is 
the lamentable masonic tragedy of the assassination of Ilirom the widovr^ son. It 
is well known to the public that every candidate for the Master Mason^ Degree, ie 
made to personify Hiram, the ingenious artificer who assisted in builditig kmg So- 
lomon's temple. And because the scriptures are silent respecting the circumstan- 
ces of his death, masonic tradition undertakes to supply this pretended deficiency 
of the bible, with a description of the doleful tragedy which constitutes a portion 
of the Bwora secrets of the masonic institution. The amount of the story ikd^ 
Hiram was awaulted by three FeUowci&tt ^^asons, «\\(i deuianded <>' ^^^| 
fSkater^ Word, on pretence of a ioutney to softie fotti-jnXwiftm oti^*,Til '<^^H 



I 



CBpIaymcDt. But being refused tlio word wliicli tliey demftodcd, each gave f lirtn 
a blow, the last or wliich deprived liini of life, and the bod; was concealed in ai 
obscure place under grouad. To detect tbo perpetratora, king Solomon, it is said 
laid an embargo on all ships sailing from the various portfi of his kinedom to pre 
vent their escape, and b; vigilnnt seirch the assassins wore delecied, brought ti 
justice by suffering the penally of their masonic obliealion aa an example to dete 
others from a violation of masonic rules ; and the body of Hiram, when tbund, wa 
taken from the place of its concealment, and masonicaliy interred under the mfk 
turn timclorwn of the Temple. 

Every candidate for the Master Mason's Degree is taught this leaeon of masoni 
IraJitioQ in a manner, the recollection of which is truly sicteniug, and must for 
ever be disgustrng; to every pious mind. Atlcr the obligation is taken by whici 
the candidate is masonicaliy sworn to keep secret, forever, every point of the de 
gree, a Farce in introduced, in which the candidate is made to represent and pei 
sonify Hiram in the various scenes of his pretended assasEieation. concealment, an 
subsequent masonic interment. Thus, lie is hoodwinked and led round the profesi 
ed " SaiKlum Sanctortim," (llie name of every lodge'ioom) for the proof of hi 
fidelity. A masonic prayer is made for his success, and a portion of the scripture 
read, to prepare bis mind for the awful scene of falling a victim to the vcngeaoc 
of aspiring disappointed villains. Unxuspecling' any danger, the candidate is vie 
lently seized, and demanded to give the Master's Word on peril of death in case ( 
refusal. Of this aonl, the candidate himself, is yet ignorant. His conducto 
pleads in vain for a post pone mei.t, until the word can ho masonicaliy obtained 
Tie pretended assailant, [who is an officer of the lodge,) affects to be in a rap 
nnd gives the candidate a blow with a masonic implement. Passing onward a htll 
farther, the candidate is again assaulted by another wretch, who makes the sam 
demand, and on refusal, gives him another blow. But the mortal wound is reserve 
for the assassin called Jubelum, nho in a rago for the same cause as above, give 
the blind candidate a blow on the head with a smalt leather mallet stutTed wit. 
wool, at.which instant he is twitched backward into a^heet, wrapped up, an 
dragged into a corner of the room, thus personifying the death and burial ( 
Hirajn ! ! ■ 

Who can describe the feelings of a person in this horrible situation, subtnittiiii 
10 the degrading and wicked farce of personifying a dead body in the grave, UDt: 
the scene is acted in the lodge-room of detecting tne assassins, and in conlinuatio 
of the farce, executing the penalty of their masonic obligations as the just rewar 
of their crimes i 

Alter this, tlic candidate is made to represent Hiram, in the removal of his dea 
body from ths place of cunccnlment by the essassinB, to the place of deposit unde 
the Sanctum Sanctorum of the temple. The place of its concealment is said t 
have been discovered by a sprig of cassia on a now made grave; to represen 
which, each mason casts a sprig of evergreen into the grave of a brother, in th 
ceremony of masonic funerals. A number of entered apprentice masons are con 
missioned to remove the dead body. They repair lo the place ; i. e. go to the cat 
didate wrapped in his sheet personifying tbe dead. One of them takes hold of hi 
band, pulls a little, and lets the hand slip off- Returning lo the Bast end of th 
room, they report to the Master of the Lodge, that such is the putrid state of th 
body, the entered apprentice grip, (Boaz,) will not raise him. A select number < 
Feltowcrafl masons are next sent, and aher the same unsuccessful manner, the 
return and report, that in consequence of the putrid state of the body, tbe Fellow 
crafl grip, (Jachin,) will not raise him. The Master of the Lodge, representin 
king Solomon, then goes himself, with a number of Master Masons, and by th 
grip of the *' lioa'i paw,'" (n grasp round the wrist.) the candidate is raised upon hi 
feet, and instructed to understand that when Hiram waa raised from the grave 
the Drst word spoken by the Master was, " There is marrow in the bone." Frot 
|>^i is derived the Master's Word, " JUah-hah-'xmt^ aa a, aviXwJiSjAe.^'n'Co.ft-*^ 
■tekh was professedly lost at the death of Hitam. Ttas ■w(«4\» ivb^« wt'^* « 
^■t wi ihe Fire points of mtsoBic fcllowaliip ■ i. e, too*. Vo fco'^% Vwc^ '-'> 



breast to breast, hand to back, anil raoutii to ei 
ram of a candidate receirca the Master's Word in a whiaper Irom the X^or^ipfijI 
Master, aU which ceremonicH are illuGtrated in the following points of the oath on 
the Master^ degree : " I protniBe and swear that I will never give the Master Ma- 
son's Word, but on the Five points of Fellowship, and then not above my breath-" 
Foot to fnol, — " I Bweur that I will go on a Master Mason's errand the length of 
my cable low, when required, though barefoot-" Knee to knee — " 1 promise and 
swear that I will never forget to pray for a Master Mason when on my knea.** 
Breast to breast — ■■ I promise and ewenr that a Master Mason's secrets shall re- 
main aa secure in my breast ai in his own." Hand to back — " I promise and swear 
that I will support and promote a Master Mason's interest if in my power." And 
mouth to ear — " t awear that 1 will always apprise biro of any danger to which I 
know him to be exposed." 

Such are the five points of masonic fellowship, wilh their illuatration ; and 
whatever a mason conmiunicaies to his brother mason on the '■ Fiot Poiirfi," is 
considered a masonic secret, the preservation of which is inviolably secured by 
the oath and penalty of the degreo. Such masonic Iradilion in relation to the 
dsath of Hiram, designed [o supply the delictency of holy writ, musl be consider^ 
Kn unwarrantable at^umption ; a gross pervention of the word of Gud ; and, COC- 
■equenlly, a work of darkness 

Another specimen of a perversion of the Bible, is the Farce in the Royal Arch 
Degree, of the taking of Jerusalem b; the Chaldeans, the carrying away of the 
Jews into the captivity of Babylon, and their return to Jerusalem. 

In receiving the Royal Arch Degree, three candidates are hoodwinked, and 
bound together with a strong rope round the body, at the distance of about four feet 
apart. Thusprcpared, a most tremendous Au« and rry is raised by the frateraity, 
" The Chaldeans arc upon us." Caimon balls, or other round aubstanccs, areiaU- 
edover the floor of the Chapter-room, to represent the rumbling sound of the pre 
tended chariot wheels of the enemy. !{orror (ills the room. The sounding of 
horns, the rattling of bells, imitations of martial music, the clashing nf arras, iho 
discharge of pistols, accompanied by the moat hideous cries, " TTie Chuldtaiu are 
upon lu," are designed to fill the candidates with terror, while they arc dragged 
away headlong to Babylon: i. e. huddled into n small adjoining room. Here inay 
continue in a state of captivity levaity yean : i. e. perhaps five or ten minucee, at 
the expiration of which, their liberty ia proclaimed by the edict of Cyrus the Per- 
sian, and a proposal is made for volunteers to return and build up the waste place* 
of Jerusalem. The uandidatos volunteer under the direction of a masonic officer, 
styled " i-amciTAi. sojouhheh," representing an old experienced Jew, and thus, 
in the farce, a march ia set out from Babylon to Jerusalem. A rugged ro4d is 
now to be travelled — ropes are stretched across their path, and stumbiing-blockl, 
benches, billets of wood, and a variety of obstructions arc put in the way of the 
blind candidates bound together. A row of Masons are stationed on each side of 
their path, with hands joined to firm the arch under which they are to pass, and a 
team of mB«ons are forward tugging at the rope, sufficiently strong; to drag them 
headlong, which Is ollcn done, when all the candidates have stumbled, and are 
prostrate on the floor. 

Arriving at Jerusalem the several vails of the temple are to be passed, at each 
of which they meet wilh opposition, and arc pretendedly suspected of being spies, 
and enemies, until the Principal Sojourner evinces Ihe contrary, by au imitation of 
the signs and tokens which Mobch wruu[>ht before Pharaoh to prove his divine mis- 
sion. In thi? part of the Farce a crooked stafl* with the head in the form of a sct^ 
Cgnt, is thrown upon the Roor, and appears like a serpent : ia taken again iota the 
and and proves only to be a crooked sialT. The hand thrust into the bosom and 
taken out, pretendly. leprous, and thrust into the bosom again, and taken out fair; 
ao imitation of water thrown upon the land and becoming blood ; and other like 
tmitatloag of the signs and tokens of tbe anciciA Pco^ihet of God, prove, at length 
t'tia/iictorily to the Masters of the ttepeclwe ibSb, «ai O&tera o? l.b,« masonic 



k temple, Hint tim caucliciates are Iruo went toil tbey are aiimiUcd ui miifioiiic labo 
M^a in repsirin? the detiolationa of Jcruialem uid [he Temple. 
m . All tbese ImiUlioDsofscriptumfacls, exhibited it) amosDuic force, together w 
K'^eimitationorthe vision of the biirniDg bush, in irhich Jehovah ia perHonified b 
Knucoic officer in achapter-room; the professed liiacoveryoftheuk ofthecoteni 
K^Btong the rubbish, containing a key of an alphabet to underutand a myatical 1. 
^nuge, by which the long lost Masier'a word i» found to be God, professedly expn 
Mm in three different limguagcs. fiirming the Royal Arch Word, Jah-Buh-Lun: 
K^Blher with the Iboleriea of raising a living arch by three times three in the na 
I tt God. and in a manner highly profane and impious, all which are palmed on i 
I'Wflic candidalcs as traditions of the order (bunded on the authority of divine re 
I Iktioa, can be viewed in no other light, if truth is our guide, than a shameieBS i 
I wicbed perversion of the holy scriptures, and adds to the list of testimony to pf 
K^nt Freemaaoory is a work of darkness. 

I ^ In the Mark Master's degree, the representation of a stone in the form of 
r«y-Htone of an arch, adorned with a mystic circular inscription of the iuitiala " 
B^. W. S. S- T. K. B." is presented by the candidate to masonic inspectors a 
■ipecimen of workmanship, and on account of its irregular Ibim, is condemned 
KnwIeSB. and cast among the rubbish. Masonic tradition slates, that such was 

■ ftet in condemning and casting away a refuse stone at the building of king S( 
Klpon^ temple. In the Royal Arch degree, the candidates are reprGacnted as & 
■9)2 this long condemned stone among the rubbish, and are masonicaily instruc 
I (e understand that it wa< to this very stone the Psalmist and Apostle bad rel 
L jnce, when the former, evidently predicted the humiliation and exaltation of 

■ Meniah to come ; and the latter, applied that prediction as having been fulGUet 
Itoe iufibrings, death, and triumphant resurrection of the I^ord Jesus. Here i 
EJ^oU specimen of the manner in which the name of Jesus is explained away by I 
KlDnic theorists. Jesus, the Lamb of God, once ilespised, lejected and alain by 
E|Ktended Jewish builders of the Church of God — Jesus, who humbled himi 

■ VOtD death, and was exalted to bo a Prince and a Saviour, the head of the corr 
Ftte Ibundation of the Church of God, the name which angels adore, and whici 

■ yrecioui to all the saints on earth and in heaven, finds no place in the maso 

■ tomple. The institution of Freemasonry acknowledges no human depra\ 
Hwbich needs a Saviour's atonement, and records neiiber the sufTerings nor trii 
Kwant glories of the Saviour of men. Libe the inn of Bethlehem, which aflbn 
Eto room nor accommodation for his birth, masonry, prefers the key-atone of 
KWch, professedly wrought in the forest of Lebanon, and inscribed with maso 
Kwtiali, signifying " Hiram, Tyrian, Widow's Son, Sent, To, King, Solomon," Y 
KlMrerB, such a masonic key-stone is the masonic amount of the import of th 
Kfaipieesive pasaages of holy writ, which declare that Jesus Christ, the great 1 
Voteoier, is the stone which the Jewish buildera rejected, and that Jesus Chna 
Kthe foundation and chief corner stone of the Church of God. ■• The stone," s 
nbe piolis Psslmist, in a prophetic strain, " which the buildera refused, ia beco 
Wfint lieadBtone of the corner." And, " thia ia the stone," said the holy Apos 
HMdressing the unbelieving Jews, and applying the foregoing prediction to the c 
Klfied and risen Saviour, " this is the stone wnich was set at nought of you hn. 
^KBi which is become the head of the corner. Neither is their salvation in i 
Hiber, for theie is none other name under heaven given among men whereby 
HbOBt be saved." To apply aucb passages to the key-stone of a masonic temple 
^Kperrerraoi) of scripture which affords sreat weight of evidence that the insti 
BBpp of Freemasonry belongs to the works of darkness. 

,, II. The insti luiion of Freemasonry is a work of darkness, because 

|*1T BAKES rBOVUION FOR THiB COMMISSION AND COKCEALMEKT OF CAPIl 

p* a;<d othek crihes. 

K The provision aDuded to, is comprised in masotwc oWig&Uovis. "a-j'C^vft'iiS'UE 
Kttpatonjj, we are lo understand the ontha ar>d pei\*\\ica wtodii cwifeiW**^ 
Hnc: A^rpf-s are leq'i'uej lo lake upon Uicmscl-Jis, <it\ "tew;\<wi, «:»^"^ ^ 



8 

ilegree of roaflonry, by repeating the worda after the Master, idwaya conciuding 
wiUi, " So help me God, mike me Bteudfaist and faiUifu) to perfbrro thesame-" A 
violation of the least point of maEonic oblig'ation, subjects the perpetrator to the 
penally of a barbarous dculh. This ia evident from Iho expresa words of masonic 
obligations, each of which closea with o penalty, of which the followiag ia a. apeci- 
tnen. " Binding myself under no less penalty thitn to have my throat cut, nir 
tongue toro out by the toots, my left, breast torn open, and my heart and Titsw 
t&kea from thence : my body severed in the midst, divided to the North and South, 
mj bowels burned to ashes in the centre, my sknil smote oft!" Such arc some of 
the penalties of masonic obligations, under which every mason swears that he will 
never revea! any part, or psrle, point or points of ihe secrets of Freemaaonry. 
The following words arc found in masonic obligations generally : "Binding myself 
under no less penalty, &c., if I should ever be guilty of so great a crime aa to vio- 
late ANT PAST of this my solemn oath and obligBiion." This proves that a maaon 
ferfeits his life by the least deviation from his masonic oath. A disclosure of tlie 
masonic secret that the name of the grip of the Entered Apprentice degree ia 
" noAZ ;" or a disclosure of the secret that the pass-word to the next iegren i* 
" ■HiBBoLETH," and the name of the grip " JicHis;" or that the pass-wora from 
thence to the Master^ degree a "TDBAL-cATit," and the Master's word is "mas- 
HAB-BONX i" yes, hearers, the disclosure ofa single point of the foregoing notiMIwi- 
cal secrets, would be a crime, in masonic estimation, worthy of death. If ■ maaon 
wrong a brother mason out of twopence, or forget to pray for every brother m«- 
SOD when on his knees, or fail to attend a summoned meeting of a lodge, when it is 
in his power to attend, he violates his masonic obligation, and commits a crime 
worthy of death by masonic iaw. That such is the natiire ef moaonic obligations 
is evident from the united testimony of Seceding Masons. 

Two points are now carefully to be examined. First, to consider whether there 
is any proof beibre the public that the penalty of death has ever, in any caae, been 
inSictcd by masons on violators of maaonic obligations f And, secondly, to consi- 
der whether such execution of masonic penalties, is jusiiliable by the lawsof civi' 
lization, or whether it ia to be considered a crime of murder. 

The first of these points we affirm, and declare that there is proof befbie tbe 
public that the penalty of death has been inflicted by masons on violatois of ma- 
sonic obligations. William Morgan, a mason, wrote a booh entitled " Illottki- 
Tmnsor MAso-jjtv." which is proved to be a true and faithful revelation of tbe 
secrets of that institution, on its three First Degrees. For this masonic ollfaoce 
be was taken by masons, and forcibly transported from Batavia to Canandaigua, 
and from thence to fort Niagara, in the state of New York. That he is deM is 
evident from two eTi><ting facts. One is, that it is four years since his abdnctioD 
hj masons, and to this day, no one of the fraternity is found to give any acconnt 
where he is, which they most assuredly would do, if he were alive, tosave their in- 
stitution from public impeachment. 

Another circumstance that evinces the death of William Morgan is, that the 
body of a dead man was fonnd on the beach of Lake Ontario, at Oak Orchard 
Creek, nearly a year after Morgan's abduction ; and on the examination of a Co- 
roner's inquest, in presence of hundreds of spectators, it was found to possess par- 
ticolar marks, which were previously sworn hy his widow, and other creditable 
witnesses, to have been on the body of WiDtum Morgan in his life time- Much 
excitement existing at the time, to prevent all suspicions of imposture, a nuaber 
of depositions wem made in writing, Gubacribed and sworn to before the dead body 
had been seen by the deponents. In lliesa depositions the following marks were 
identi lied for substance thus, tbatcnthe great toe of the left foot of Wuliam Morgan 
wasalumpofconsiderablcsizeand hardsubstance, occasioned by aaoresomeyeait 
previous. Anoihermark particularized in the deposition was, that the teeth of Wit- 
Han Morgan were ell double, that two of his teeth were missing, designating the 
Jaw from wAicA they had been exlr acted ; B.&d\.\kUt.Ue tooth Joining the vacuity, on 
yneaidc, was in part split off. Oncxa.mm»i\Qni.Vw veri w.M'te'Mwefiwodon 
*"it Sead body, Bnawerin? in all reepects.ftic feKM\^\:wTv?«v\wiA'9 VN^cut^'CMin. 
' the witaeaeta. Uia. lloTEan, Vm ^iaSvA wviavi, m ^Twsait *^ «.ia«iaaaoj 




Anembly, prcscnLed the identical leelh of licr liuabanil, wiiicli hail bcca ex[racte< 
ftom his jaw yean before, and whichslie bad careful]; preser red. ThoBamephj 
Bicitn wlio extracted tbera from tlie jaw of Williuii Murgaa in his life timt 
tooli these teeth from the hand of Mrs. Murgan, luid applying them to the jaw i 
the dead body, found them to lit, and fill tiic vacuity, exactly fbimiiig a complet 
set of double tcuth louad, except thu one tvbicii liad been purtly split off. Oth( 
caarki specified iu tlic depo»itiuaa were alto Botisfactorilylbunilio exist OD the doa 
body. I'i'^^ ■> 'Q"? ^'hilc hairs m lbs oais, extreme lioirtuess of the body, with lli 
height, and apparent a^c. 

Objections eriaing Irom the improbability that a body would continue in sue 
el«t« of praervation mi long time in water, were answered by the physicians the 
present, who unitud in tosUinony, Ifiat human bodies under water, and not expose 
to aJr, o)ight be preecrved duiius such period, in aBgood, if uot bcflcr state tha 
tlw corpse before ihem. Aad aUTioueh Mrs. Morgan acknowledged that the clotl 
iag on I be dead body ^vnsnot such asiicrbuahsnd had on when he went from homt 
}'et, she kesitated not to declare under oath, that she verily believed Ikat corpee t 
be the dead body of William Morgan, her husband, and ea said aU, or nearly all tb 
witnesses then present. The whole assembly examined foi themselves, the resu 
of wliicb was a general conviction that the object of examination was the dca 
body of William Morgan. Such, also, was the verdict of the jury of inques 
xvhieh was recorded and published under the signature uf the Coroner, and wit 
sll the names of the jury inserted. 

From sach testimony we hesitate not [o nUirm, that William Morgan is deal 
and Ihat bis dead body was proridentjally discmered on the shore of Lokq Ontarii 
snd was laid to rest in the grave. But who put biro to death \s tbc question i 1 
is acknowledged tliat positive icetimony has not been legally adduced, sufficient I 
coDviet any person or persons of taking his life, in a manner which would justif 
the execution of the penalty of the civil law against theni. Four years have past 
edbyi vigilant efforts have been made; much monoy has been expended; butthi 
point has not been gained. The tc^imony to prove, iilontically, the circumstance 
of hij last struggles, such as, the time when, the place where, the manner hou 
and the person or persons by whom William Morgan was put to death, togothe 
with all who were necessary to his de^itb, deponda entirely on masons. They ar 
bound by oath, paramount, in their estimation, to that of the civil law, to keep th 
whole matter a secret for ever. Hence, when called to testify on the case, the 
have declared that they knew nothing about it, or they have obstinately refused I 
give testimony, and suffered the penalty of two hundred and fifty dollars line, au 
from one to three raontlis imprisooment, rather than testify the irutli, and expos 
the enormity of masonry, as was tho well known cose of Oraemus Turner, E 
Bruce, and John Whitney, in the late trials at the west. But why would nc 
these men testify on a case, the circumstances of which ihcy well knew^ Lt 
Otosoins Turner answer for tliera all. " It will have a tendency to render me in 
famous or diegrnced. It will furnish evidence against me in an indictment fo 
murder." From their own admissionB then, the proof is incontestable, that moBon 
did put William Morgan to death. By considering masonic obligations paramoui 
to the civil oath, ond by suffering the itenalty of the latter far contumacy of its au 
tberity, nib er than incur the ponalty of masonic law, which would cut tbeirlhroa 
and smite off their skull, they have proved the very facts which we now poeilivel 
and icitlcsely affirm, that masons did put William Morf^an to death, in the execu 
lion of the penalty of masonic obligation, Ibr tho violation of masonic law, and i: 
conformity with the sworn requirements of Freemasonry. They are positive wil 
neseee against tliemsclvcs, both by their admissions, and obstinate refusal to testif 
on the case, that they, and all others who have equivocated or refused to testify 
(and the Lord knows how many more.) wcro either perpetrators of the horri 
deed of taking the life of William Morgan, or were accessaries to the crime. 
' Another instance of the execution of masonic \>cnal\,ij,\al.\iete«fti«A'W^'n 
"Per, of Belfast, in trohad. SamuctG. Andettou, ttvicWVwi'WTv.w.iiwt^ 

jiababilaot of Boston, ""hose occupation for many \'eo,ia\io.B\>«cTi\.V».Va^» 



deed 



10 

faring mm, and whose reputation hu been publicly ceitiiied to be abore tfit 
peachTncoi of slander, has declared upon his oath before John W. Qaincj, a Jus* 
tice of the peace in the city of Boston, nhich dcpoaltion waa made in the month of 
March last, and for substanco is as follows: That in the year 1S09, he was made a 
Masoii in a lodge-room near Ljmehiln dock, in the city of Belfast, in Ireland, and 
became acquainted with a mason by the name of William Miller, a miller by occu- 
pation, and resident of that place. That in the year 1813, he was taken prisoner 
of war on the high seas, and was transported to England, from whence, through 
masonic influence, he was liberated, found means of conveyance to Ireland, and on 
the morning of the 4th day of June, which was the king's binh-day, be was in 
BelTaat, aaw, and had conversation with hia friend William Miller. That Millet 
then told him that " the maBons had offered to make him a Knight Templar, free 
of eitpcoBC, and that he had been strongly urged to attend thai evening, which he 
hud agreed to do." Mr. Anderlon had agreed also to attend the same meetine. 
fn the evening Mr- Anderton received several degrees of masonry, among whicn 
was the Knight Tcmplnr. Some time in the evening he was informed that there 
was to he a masonic execution that night ; that a mason had violated his masonic 
obligation, by saying, " that a book enHiled Jachin and Boat inu a true book? in 
connexion with some other remark?, for which he deserved to die. Struck with 
horror, Mr. Anderlon wished to leave the room, but was peremptorily denied per- 
mission to retire, being told, "thai untvtr allovat on inch oceajiotu." Lot was 
cast to decide who should bo the executioners. The lot fdl on a Dane, a Swede, 
and Mr. Anderton. Learning that William Miller was the person to be executed, 
by the most heart rending Entreaties, Mr. Anderton was excused from the masonic 
duty of being an eTecutioner of hia friend. The others plead no excuse. A cap 
of coarse cloth to be drawn over the head, strung with a. rope in the hem, to be 
drawn by the execotioners round the neck, was the instrument which cootaiDed 
the machinery of death for the unsuspecting victim. The hour of midnight dark- 
ness arrived, the executioners took their stand near, and at the lell hand of the 
presiding mnsonic officer. All things being in readiness, Mr. Miller, mistnistiDg 
no danger, but with expectation of receiving a degree of masonry, sceording to 
the promise made to him, was led into the room, bood-winked, with bis coat off, 
and in a slow march was conducted near to the executioners. The qneslion wis 
lukcd and repeated, agreeably to masonic cnstem — " Who comes there ^ Who 
comes there?" The answer was bawled out, as the excculioners seised faim, "a 
damned traitor who has broken hia masonic obligation." As the cap of death cane 
over his head, ho had just time to cry, " O my Cfod ! ore you going to murder me .' 
O my wife, my children !" when his cries were slopped abort by the suSbcating 
cord drawn round his neck, with the full strength of the undaunted executioners, 
and the victim fell to the floor in the agonies of death. The executioners, bracing 
their feet against his body, continued their tug at the rope with increasing violence. 
" while others of the fraternity fell upon the body, cut the throat, and then his left 
side and breast open, so as to show his heart ;" during which horrid scene aonie of 
the thirty-five or forty persona in the room, exhibited signs of sympathy, but the 
greater part, to use Sir. Anderton'sown words, "using llicniost profane. reTCDge* 
ful language, with their fists clenched, grimied with horrid approbation ! ! !" 

After the execution, they carefully conveyed the body from the lodge>room in 
the third story of a building, and threw It into Lymekiln dock, ader which Mr- 
Anderlon lefl the city as soon as possible, and embarked for America in ft Russian 
ship, Mr. Anderton further stalea, that he had experienced instances of ship- 
wreck, and bad met the enemies of hie country at the awful cannon's manth, but 
never before had those feelings which he experienced on being a witnesito the 
masonic execution of William Miller, ftlany particulars of Mr. Anderton^ affi- 
davit have been passed over for the sake of brevity, and Ibe substance only of tilt 
ivhole has been given, 
/n corroboration of the foTego'mg st«tcntenV, ^ Mxs. A^nes Bell, now residiiiief 
Mb city of Boston, hss made oalli before \\ieBaweio'ftvi'*;.Q,™««N,vwtw9. Ms- 
'ffying, for substftQce, as follows ; " Ttia^l 9\\« va^ 'ftoiti w'%e\^»a\,wi.\wS«Mi^^ 



I 

broughl up witliin eiglit ol' M(. Greenwood'fi Louje, wlieie a lavern waa bepl 
the lower story of the building a.1 Lymekiln dock, over wliicli, in tlie third ator 
wu the masonic lodge-room described by IMr. Anderlon. Tliat she diitinctly r 
collects seeing the dead body of William Miller, wet and muddy, before the hi 
of Mr- Greenwood, on the day after the king's birth-day. in a cerlain year of hi 
life, which she particularly designates, and whicli exactly uirespoods with tl 
year 1813, and the Slh day of June io that year, which was the very day followii 
the evening of the liorrid execution, as tedtiGed by Mr. Anderton. And she furth 
states, that Airs. Miller was heard to say that her husband went to the lodge tl 
evening before in liealth,and that she hoped Ehe «liou)d live to know who niurderi 
faim. And further, that the masonic fraternity afsenibled on tbe occasion, form< 
one of the most numerous processions of the liind over known in Belfast, and i 
t«rredthe body with masonic honours ! O horrid works of darkness '. Masons a 
Bcmbled in large procession, clad in the habiliments of niourning-, professedly to I 
ment over, and perform the masonic ceremony of " /n(o%Aiini,.3ftn^S( Fntti 
tee eommtnd Ok loul of our loving broUicr,'" — and thus Intel tiie body of a professi 
worthy brother, whom Ihey had masonically executed the night before, as a pt 
jnied wretch, and a violator of masonic obligationa. 

In ftrther confirmBtion of the masonic execution of William Klilter, as testifi 
b; Hr. Anderton, there are also several niotlemen now redding in America, wl 
were citizens of Belfast at that time, and have recently favoured the public wi 
certificates of their knowledge of the excitement produced in Belfast, aud that i 
gion, by the murder of William Miller, under ci re u Distances corresponding wi 
Mr. AndertoD's affidavit. 

Other instances of masonic execution arc before the public, aud might ' 
brought into the smouni of testimony on the point before us, if it were necesaai 
But let it suffice to say, in general terms, that there is little, if any room, to dou 
that many of the numerous murders which Imve polluted this, and other Iboi 
tvith blood, which horrid deeds have been palmed on £ome innocent, or unknot 
persons, have been really Ibe bloody fruits of masonic executions, while. OE at Bi 
lost, the perpetrators themselves were mingled with tlie crowd, perhaps distineuia 
ed by masonic badges of mourning, and heard to say, " alat brother ,'" wliile t! 
bloodof vengeance was crying against them from the horrid place ofexeculiu 
And it is awfully to be feared, that when the light of clernily shall shine on t! 
deeds of darkness, and every secret thing shall be brought into judgment, it w 
then be found, that many of the sudden deaths in the world have been the result 
masonic venqeance, in the execution of penalty in a lodge-room, or pereoaal d 
patch by poison, or assassination, as the ^hosta of the murdered Artemas Kenei 
neat Boston, the poisoned Simmons, ot Albany, and a host of others, noul 
doabllesB, testify now, were they permitted to speak. 

Let it next be considered, whether the laws of civilization justify the eiccutii 
of masonic penalty, or whether such execution, in the eye of civil law, conslitut 
the act of murder 

The former position must be denied, and the latter affirmed, for this obvious re 
son, that the civil law makes no provision for the private trial, private convictie 
private condamnatioa, and secret execution of any human being, in any case, 
ibr any offence whatever. The civil law requires that all accusations, trials, co 
victioDS, and executions, shall be public, and subject to pubhc investigation. B 
the whole process, which leads to, and terminates in masonic executions, are do 
ID secret. If masonic law is violated, the accusation and trial of the offend 
are performed in the secret conclave of Freemasonry, aud not a witness is adm 
ted, even on the defence, unless he belongs to the fraternity. If masonic testimo: 
convicts the culprit, no sacrifice can atone. Death is the penalty ; and vE.-ioEani 
never can he appeased short of execution. Either the laws of masonry must 
totally disregarded, or oBendcrs against the majesty of masonic laws must be p 
:|pJeUh in the executioo of masonic penalty. And the Vjlvo\«v^«i«^^^n^' 
"' ling to end, must be doae under cover of tn'idn')g\iV ^uVcosf . w Ni"v»Ja "ix-i' 






li 

taofound Bceiecy. Hence, nmsonic execulwns, being coniluclcU in ilirect vioiMion 
•T the reqnirentsnta of civil law, must be proii(H]iic«d unlawful. 

Tn uMBonJcexecutioDa the design ia to tako life. The act is premeditateit. AikI 
in the performkiice. it may Eafely be concluded, that there is no want of the spitit 
of ma]ice afbrethoaght, snil vengeancei in operation. The eoocltiaion, oa Ibe 
whole, thes, must be obvious, that the civil law does aot, eannal justify the exeeu- 
tioD of masonic penalties, but condemns it in tola as nn act of murder. Thb msat 
be evident from the very uatureof the crime. What ia it that constitntea niHrder 
in the judgment of civil law ^ It is the tating of human IIFe unlawfully, with A^ 
sign, and with maiice afore thotighl- All these concomitants are comprised in 
every maaoaic enecutioo. The life of man is taken vnlavfuUij, becaase tone in 
secret; with detyTi, becHOse premeditated ; and viilh maticr nforrthoiigXt, bectose 
done in thespiril ofvengtjance. Conaeiuenlly, every roaaonic execution eonrtitoies 
an act of mnrdcr. This doctrine ia virtual!; admitted even by masoDH theowelVM. 
Why did not the wilneasea testify what they knew, when legally required so to 
do, in the case of the noted abduction iu the state Of New York ? They tell nn 
why. They were consciously dumb, and obatioately refused to declare the trnth. 



for fear of implicating themselves in the murder of Morgan '. How often ia the 
question askecl, "Must the whole masonic fraternity be impeaclied, becaiue « ftw 
tniscreants. or oullaiv masona have mardered Morgan'" The import of Ibis mft- 
ronic question is an implicit auknowledgmenl, that those who did pat Horgan lo 
death, MunnrRKti him. If ao, it is etjually true, that all who advised, aM aided 
knowingly, whether directly or indirectly, were accessaries to his death, and con* 
seguently were murderers In the judgment of civil law, and in the sight of God. 
Thia settles the point, that the masonic institution stands chargeable with the blood 
of all tha victima who have fallen Baorifices to its vengeance, in the execution ofdH- 
some penalties. Although the horrid deeds of death may have been perpett^ted 
by a lew conscience-haidcned, heaven-daring masons, of high souuditig titles ; Bod 
unlraownAo thousands of lower degrees, who would shuddar ut the thought of being 
acccnary to an act of murder ; yet such is the nature of the masonic institution, 
that it makes proviaion for the commission of the highest crimes, and all who know 
this fact, and have been volantaiy accessariea to any instance of masonic execu- 
tion, are guilty of the blood which is charged upon the institution, whose blood- 
stained laws they have sworn to support, and still determine to maintain. 

The institution of Freemasonry not only makes provision for the roMtrniNHi 
of crime, but also for the co.ncealment of all crimes perpetrated under csver of 
masonic secrecy. 

One clause of masonic obligation is thus e:?prcssed, " I promise and sWeti tiMt 
a Master Mason^ ecctcIb, committed to me as such, and I knowing him tobesoeb, 
shall remain as inviolable in my breast as in his own, Mnrder and Treason except- 
ed, and they lell at my own election." In this masonic oath, provision is madeto con- 
ceal Perjury, Thetl, Arson, and all other crimes, with the above conditional excep- 
tion. Should any crime, c:tcciit murder and treason be perpetrated, and the circum- 
stances of the act be committed as a secret, to a brother mason, that brother is 
bound by his masonic oath, even in the Master Mason^ Degree, to keep Ibe eecret 
fer ever, on penalty of death. But in the oath of the Royal Arch Degree, tnasons 
ore bound to keep the secrets of a companion without exception. The words arc. 
" I promise and swear, that a companion Royal Arch Mason's secrete, committed 
to mc as such, and 1 knowing him to be such, shall remain as inviolable in my 
breast as in his own. ttrnnctt and treason hot excepted." A modificalioii of 
this oath, "to keep a// the secrctsof a companiot), without ExcEprron,* amooBtt 
to the same import. For. as murder and treason are conditionally excepted in t 
lower degree of masonry, the oath of a higher degree to keep all the secrets of a 
Companion witrodt exceftid!!, amounts (o the very same, as, mmrUr and trt»- 
tim not eieepUd. 
Sach provision ia made by the insliiaiion of Masonry, to conceal cnorniouf 
rrimee. This awful truth lias been lehficd Vo \.\« *«.nwi, M>vi^\H!iiOTi,«.ndgui]lof 
'uriPhoh country. Thp crime of moTaet\iBs\>i:':'ft cQi\ce»VA,TO^« b.-&xji^i(».il'\ 



13 

the perpetrBtora rrom tbc band of juaiice, by an accumulated amount of perjur 
And ts long )u maaoiiB adhere, etrictly, to the obligationa of tbeir inBtitutioD, mii 
du, uiil treason, andevery otber crime which may be perpetrated by inasone, ai 
known only to such as consider the obligatioo! of masonry sacredly biodinf , w 
continue to be concealed, let the amount of perjury, or hues, or imprisonment, I 
wtMt they may. If forty masonic offenders should be exeL-uted privately ; Ibr 
widows be left in charge of two hundred and lorty lathcrlcsa children, and for 
thousand masons were oxecuiionert^, or accedsaTieii to the scones of death, not 
word of teitimooy could be drawn fiom one of tliem, to convict an individual 
Clime, to long hb all concerned adliere-d strictly to the obligations of masonr 
Subpsna the forty thousand men, put them under oatb to declare the whole trat 
strict adtaerence to their niasuBic ubligaUonB would induce them to remain obsi 
■ateJy silent on the stand, in contumHcy and dutiance of the power of civil law, 
to testify confederaiely, that they knew nothing of the affair, and liius perju 
tfaemselves. to conceal the crime of murder, tlioogh each wero liued two hundn 
■nd fifty dollars, amouoii^ to ten millions, which should be drawn from the fun 
oTLodgeB, Chapters, and Encampments, to defray the expense of masortic fidelit 
The spirit of Freemasonry cserts evory nerve of power to suppress the circul 
lioa of its enormities, even after their public disclosure. How carefully was tl 
Hoigmo abductioD, and all the abominations connected with that heaven-darii 
ontrage, kept out of every newspaper in our country which was under masor 
influence! Doubtleaa, the account would have been suppressed, and the^publ 
woold have remained ignorant of the facta to this day, had not the inilepcnde 
spirit of rue pkssses broke the masonic enchantment, and set the awful tra 
before the public. And even aflcr the dead body of Morgan was fbnod, indiqiut 
bif identifii^d, and laid down to rest in the grave, what, but the epirit of darkne 
could have invented a stratagem equal in the mosonic impontiire which was playi 
off upon the public, by the claims of a Canadian pretender to that body, ibl' ti 

Cposc of disproving iJie death of Uorgsn, and to conceal the crime which lii 
ught him to the tomb. On any other principle than artifice to conceal m 
eooic crime, who can account for the facts, that a Mrs. Monroe, from Canad 
^otild Journey into the state of New York, In quest of the dead body of h 
husband, with witnesses to prove the claim, and after finding the body which hi 
been so clearly proved to be the dead body of Wilham Morgan, by inconteslafc 
marks, shoold lay ckim to the same body, and prove the claim, by the colo' 
and textnre of the clothing only: yet, to the full satisfaction of masons br ai 
near. And on any other principle than device to conceal masonic crime, whii 
masons are sworn to do, who can account for the bountiful masonic reward of fif 
do!)srB, which has been publicly declared, without confutation, was given to Mi 
Monroe, by a mason at the West, with whom had been deposited a large donatii 
fVom Jerusalem Chapter, in the city of New York, together with eumsof money fro 
Mber masonic bodies, for the relief of the western sufferers. In censequence of tl 
UoTjran abduction.' All the apparent mystery which veiUany part of this subjet 
rrom the most obvious light of truth, is explained in a eingtc sentence ; the war 
a/* JaHtneti areahiiay* atiplm/ed ta conceal Ikewor/ci tf dartneis. 

With this self-evident position before us, we may examine all the newspape 
in our conntry, which arc edited by the square, compass, and cabletow rule, ai 
see how many will be fonnd to contain an insertion of the affidavits of Samuel i 
Anderton, and Agn?s Bell, in relation to the murder of William Miller. Not oi 
it is presumed ; while in many of their columns may be found masonic burlesqi 
□n a well authenticated account of the perpetration of a horrid murder, evident 
deaigning to calnnnniatc the character of the deponents, and disprove the truth 
their disclosure. After such an example, how often are masons, or their abettoi 
heard to speak with a tnetr on the subject of the Bt'Jiut aturdtr. as though it wei 
ft mere ridiculous fabrication ' But why is s subject of so much interest <.\««9j 
Vith so much contempt f Is the account of altocwoa ntvn&»&, to c»sb» ■«'vi 
■"' iry is not concemeO, Ihus williheld from v\^e pn\i\\<;, oi vmati. "™m> 
If Morgan and Miller (lod been eneculedpT\vB.le\?,>)^ ^\'i'^^'^^ ^^* 



14 

ritn churcliea, for dioaling their miniatere out ol' liie salary wtiicli ibey liad pro- 
mised, and ihe facts had atlcrwanla betiD liisclosed and sworn to b; Gome of those 
revolting Elders who witnessed the scene, and confessed that they were under oath 
t« keep the transaction a secret for ever, but conscience goaded them lo a public 
diacloBure, the circumHtances of which were corroboraied beyond a reasonable 
doubti how long time would it have required to spread every item of the bonid 
transaction belbre the American public, and the world, till not a man, wouian. nor 
child, that could read or understand, would be found ignorant of the facts f None 
would have been uninterested. The alury would have been published in evei; pa- 
per; told in every bouse; and condcroncd asa deed of darkness by the whole com- 
inunity. But thousands of the American people aredouhtleaB.tolhis very day. igno- 
rant of the most horrid masonic murders, because they are under masonio infla- 
eoce, by which the publicity of auch works of darkness ia suppressed. Thoaaands 
are so cons-'minatcly ignorant lo thib very day, as to believe that Wilham Morgan 
■a yet alive, speculating on hia book of masonic illustrations ; and that Mr. Ander- 
ton^ account of the murder of William Miller is a mere Antimasouic story, to create 
public prejudice against masonry. Such ignorance is the result of masonic device, 
to conceal the atrocity of the institution- One important fact, howpver, ia inconlaR- 
ably proved by the masonic power of concealinent> which is. that all unaoccessfiil 
attempts to elicit testimony to prove the wicked acts which the oaths of masonry 
bind its votaries to beep secret, adds substantially to the list of testimony to prove 
that the whole masonic fabrlck. from the foundation to tlic topstone, belonoa to ibe 
works of darkness. When God sliail bring all these hidden things to light, then 
will be known to the world of intelligent beings, the secret murders, the perjury, 
and all the horrid deeds of darkness which the oaths of masonry liavo kept can- 
Ill. The inslitulion of Freemasonry is a work of darkness, because 



} JUBTICE ; 18 BABBD ON lMP<t8TURE ; AND HAS HI 
POPULAR ONLY BV SELF EXALTATION. 

It sDBVGdTB JUBTICE. Thc mystic power by which this ia done, is in coaRmutf 
to the following points of masonic obligations. " I promise and swear that I wiU 
obey all signs given, handed, sent, or thrown to me by the hand of a brother ma- 
Bon." And, *' I promise and swear that i wilT aid and assist a companion Royal 
Arch Mason, whenever I sec him engaged in any diflicully, and espouse bia cause 
■0 far as to extricate him from thc same, if it be in my power, mhellier he be righlar 



Strict adherence to these masonic oaths iscapableofproducing immense n 

in the subversion of justice. A masonic judge on the bench, receiving a sign from 
the hand of a culprit before him at the bar, ia bound by his masonic oath to upouse 
that culprit's cause, " right or wrong-," and acquit him if possible. A masonic wit- 
ness, scing the same sign, is bound by his masonic oath, to favour the culprit^ 
cause, " right or wrong,'" and testify that he knows nothing about the aSkir, or ob- 
stinately refuse to give testimony, though it cost bim a.fine of two hundred end lifty 
dollars, and three months imprisonment. A masonic juryman seeing the sane sign, 
is masonically bound to bring in a verdict of NOT GUILTY. " rig/U or wrvay." 
A masonic civil officer, seeing Ihe same sign, and havingcharge of a brother prisDora'. 
is bound by his masonic oath to give the culprit an opportunity to escape from jua- 
Uce, " right or mnnig." A failure in any of these instances, would be a violatioa 
of masonic obligations, and subject the offender lo the execution of the penally of 
death. Doubtless, in the course of human affairs, many innocent persnna bave 
been condemned ; the guilty, acquitted ; and thc rights of the just, given U Ibe 
unjust oppressor, through the influence of the mystic power of masonry to subvert 
juttice. 

ram ihititiitiok op vnKSiHAioNat: u based os ikfostvkr, 

Muiy of il8 most boasted claims aie^onn&\.o\>ea,\ntit«\n\^iQ^(,ian on theworlil' 

JtclMJaia a tlivinc origin, while proof \s p\ttvn\ie'iite v»^klW. Aw a.-wtnVtS iwt- 



l'> 

II claims antiquity in ita present Torm, when it is evident that its Sntiq 

. if my suchforin existed, waa merely ■ compound or Jewish ceremoniee, a 

K'fteatlieiiiDyateries, while the history ofFreemasoDry clearly proves that the degn 

fits present form are the result of modern invention. It claims a superiof degi 

f the light of Ecieoce: but when its science is analysed, it is fiiunil lo be meri 

-.JtBicuRCe of hoodwinking can diJatee, and teachmf them the meaning of fioi 

S%ad Jachm. ShibboUCh. tai Mah-hah-bone. and n vari'.'ty ofceremotitei looiilly 

^GUpy the lime of children, and Loo wichcd ever (o be practised by chrisliana. 
_ Hasoary claims lo pneseEs. in a hieh degree, the virtues of morality, such 
AkKty. hoiieBty, truth, and good-will lo mankind. But, on investigalion of 
JDonl principles by the test oi truth, it proves to be a sjetem of gross immoral) 
L "ita ImtetoUnct is mere selfishness, confining fraternal charily to tlw fraternity on 
V jito Aneily consists merely, in being under oath not to defraud a brother mai 
I tot of twopence. Its (rulA, when put to ihe test, is found to be an oath on pena 
■Af death, to conceai ilu truth, even unto perjury, for the preservation of maao) 
ll^hcrets, and for the concealment of masonic crimes, let the amount of ines a 
~ HprieonmeDt be what they may. And its good leill lo mankiTid. is found to exist 
_koath to execute aecrei vengeance on members of the human family, foroffeni 
kiif tbe most trifling nature. 

I T And, as tbe finishing stroke and topmost point of all its superlative arrogatio 

KwwoDry claims an iuaissoluble affinity with chrialianily. It professedly combii 

I Vu hope of the christian, and that of tbe mason, to one common centre. Its a 

1 it lo inspire the belief, that heaven itself is the superlative Grand Lodge of perf 

"^11 : that God is the Great Grand Master Mason of the universe; thatcbristMii 

. d masonry united, will prepare mankind for the eternal celebrations of the up] 

I iCnnd Lodge ; and that all who are thus prepared, will be honoured with the cl: 

nts, and be entitled to wear the most precious jewels of the heavenly tern) 

4iere the never ending employment wilt be to labour with imperishable maso 

L ^npiemenls. and participate the sublime refreshments of an eternal meeting in t 

[walestiai " Sanctum Sanclortan.'" Such snticipations, doubtless, have made thi 

'jonic ckrutioni ; inspired them with hope, high as the throne of Go 

■%Bd filled tbem with expectations of future happiness.ss expansive aa the univei 

^l^liile not a mallet was titled, nor a stroke employed, nor a step taken, nor a pra' 

a desire raised lo Iho throne of mercy, for that purity of heart, tl 

kaKneae of lifr, and that good hnpp throogh ibo grace of the Saviour, which alt 

lui secure the blessings of a tflorious immortality. 

I> But tbe light of truth has disclosed the secret, that Ihe masonic claim of oi 

M with Christianity ia altogether fallacious. No system can be correct wb 

culcates directly contrary principles. Masonry docs this by a studied union w 

R kinds of religion. It perfectly accords with the religion of the Pagan, W 

Wships the Apis and Crocodile, in ETvpt. It conforms to the religion of I 

IJodoo, who kneels before the household earthen images which are to be annus 

"^rred rbr sacrifice, in consecrated waters to the sods of Neptune ; or him W 

IS in the sacrifice of human victims on the funeral pile, or expiates for sinuni 

Rha wheels of the temple of Jugernaut. Masonry perfectly accords with the n 

'''^ of Mahomet, and holds the Alcoran in as high veneration as the christia 

And it equally bormonines with the religion of the infidel, who rejects I 

as a fabrication of human invention ; who denies tho necessity of a I 

Mmcr; who pours contempt on the doctrine of Christ crucified; who ridicu 

e christian's fears smt hopes, as the chimera of fanatism, or the vision of a i 

led imagination, and prides himself in the belief that reason, unasaisled by divi 

P^hrelatioD. is the aJI-sufBcicnt guide to happiness, both here and hereafter. A 

I fioof that Freemasonry is equally partial to infidelity, as to Christianity, you i 

r fnaeotcd at one view with the emblems of each order at every masonic p 

t.^BBsion in the land of Christendom. The open bible is carried in n^«aQn^t.'^tw 

; an emblem of the christian's rule of life; wVWe \.W w^iwe ».Tviw»K 

■ the opat bibie, are dispJayeii with equal pom^, as ewA)\eni»\vc*\ utOc* ^'*' 



lU 

briaeiple of bsamk, the only rule of life ackDowleilged l>y liic lufidel. By Ihi* 
DoastBd uubn with vsiioua syatema of religion, of directly contrary prioci^si, 
FretunBHODry proves itself lo be antidiTietian, a syBtom of impoGlure, tolAlly de»- 
titatc of the doctnne of aiLtvatioD, devoid of a platfutm of correct moral priacipie, 
uid fit only to be classed witb tha works of dsrkasBS. 



MI 



LS been so highly extolled aa FrcemitEDDiy. Iie favourite 
orators hare «xerted tbeir lilghcal ilretch of power to pracluin lis pralsoa to 
the wondcrig world. Igoorent of ll« real charactBr, ntiicb wn^ niaalicd in dii- 
;uise, tbe world could not diapulc tta claims, aail, coDaequeiilly, iLa [uttiwayto 
KSaaur wts unobstructed. Under such circuin^tnuceB, it nai been Ilic pulley of 
the prince of darkiiese to laise tbe popularity of the inalilutiun of Freeinaaoiu;, 
by eDliatiu^ tbe great, the learned, and nobles uf the earth lo become membars of 
toe Gratctnity. While of tbe religioii of the Lord Jeaua. it has been eaidi '* Not 
many wise men alter the ficsh, not many mighty, not many nobis are called:" of 
miaoDry, it hu been the boast of its panegyrists, that great men, mighty omh, 
noblss, kings of the earth, chief captains of hosts, great lorde and coameUon, 
honourable rubra, chiefjudges, and magistrates, great merchanta. rich men, great 
heroes, great philosophers, teamed prelates, dignitaries, bishops, elders, and many 
members of christian churches, have honoured the institution of Freemasonry with 
their membership. This has been the triumph of the insltlutien ; tbe theme of 
its orators, and the boast of all its powers of self-exaltalion. 

But the period has at last arrived when the mask uf masonic disguise tM longer 
obatritcts tbe power of perception ; and the ivondering world la now able tu un&i^ 
stand ihemanofr in which all ihcae great, and mighty, and nobli:, nnd bononrable, 
and learned men, wore made masons. Every one of those great wonders '>f men, 
who, in his kiogly, or pontifical attire, appears in a masonic proceesion Uke an in- 
habitant of some other planet than the earth, whose tinseled and tinkling rob«, 
with golden bella and pomegranates, and, whose apparently celestial mitre, with 
" Holinen to the Lord." written in large capitals on tbe Ibrchead, attracting tbe 
ga.%eiiiieao( OwJiUdrtnand KTBOnU^lheitreelti yes, hearers, every snchfr«a! 
num. in order to become a great mason, has submitted to be stripped ofevery aitide 
of wearing apparel, to the last article of decency, and that divested of pins and 
sleeve-b nitons 1 and to be invested with the additional ciolbing of a pairof muonie 
drawers, tried on with strings, reaching a little below tbe knees; an old slipper ns 
one foot, and the other bare ; a tight bandage round the head to cover the eyes, 
and constitute a poor blind canditlato, in search of masonic light ; and a rope, 
called cabletow. about ten feet long, with one end noosed round the neck. Sock 
is the mere preparation to enter a lodge-room. How dignified must a great man. 
or aminister of the gospel appear, in this pitiliil plight ! And yet every great nin, 
to become a mason, has been thus prepared, in a httle adjoining apailment, to ra- 
ter tbe temple of masonic science, totally ignorant of mat'.er. and form, and oatk 
and ceremony, which were there to bo required of him. Ha saw nothing. He 
knew nothing, for be appeared to himself like a fool. But hk friendly guide an- 
nounced his readiness lo go forward; and ailer a round of ceremonies, the door of 
the lodge-room was opened, and he was permitted to enter. As he passed tht 
threshhold of the " Sanclam Sanctorum." to his sudden and great surpiise, his 
leil breast came in painful contact with the sharp point of a compass, helil, aa4 
guided by a masonic officer. At tha same Instant he was, probably, almost allock- 
ed out of his wit, by the apparent thunder of a fraternal stamp on the floor witli 
the foot, which every nisson in the room performed with hii might. Alter travel- 
ling awhile round the room, in darkness, be was directed lo kneel on the floor, Ibr 
the benefit ofnprayer, which is usually awritten form, wttliout the nameof Jesnsin 
//. After farther ceremonies, be was directed to kneel on bis left knee, to place 
ii* leit haad tauter the bible, and his tigVklhaivdonli\ea<^n book.itjuare and cant- 
Mar, in which porittaa he was lequireSlo Xa\ie \.he oa'i.\\ rf «.'n«v\Kte&x'ffTentic«, 
n-varinglo Iteep nil the s Bcrele ofmasoniy, on p^noXv-? r.^ feWV ^■Ki^i«.ft^I!,\^fl.^ 



17 

of another frtternal slamp, the bandage froiii the eyes being suddenly removed, L 
woa next brought to behold the anumng light of Uiree burning candles, the almoE 
dazzling brightness or which, he wasiniitrucled to understand represented the sui 
moon, and Worihipfiit Macier of a lodge. ^Vhat most wonderful light ! Wht 
sublime representations! Next, he iv as instructed to understand, that pressing h: 
thumb nail hard upon the upper joint of the fore finger of a per^n with wham b 
shakes hiads, is the grip, ihe sign, ond the first token of a mason, and that ii 
name is Bo-az, nhich name he was sworn never to reveal, on penally of having b. 
throat cut, and bis tongue lorn out by llie roots. After a round of ceremonies i 
similar importance, to teach him the loyal masonic art of ):ccpin[r a secret, an 
bestowing charity an werlhy brother nuuoru, lie Was divested of bis draweri an 
slipper, luveatcd again with his own apparel, presented with a masonic aproi 
Ungbt bow to tie it od aod vrear it, and, lie was msMnicatly pronouccd an & 
TcasD Appbkpitice Pbeeuason. 

Sucb is the manner in ivbich men enter ibe door leading to all the honour an 
greatnai to which a multitude of masonic degrees, eqaa! in fully, and far luperic 
in wickedness, can raise a human being. And now the world must be excused ft 
deciding that Freemasonry ha^ been transported into popularity by Eelfexaltatio 
without merit. For the light of truth has discovered, that all its accunalate 
greatness derived existence only from the profusion of its own praiijc. Ail ilA boai 
of wonder, has proved to be the empty eound of the trumpet of sclf-exaltatioi 
This alone bas rendered masonry popular in the world ; and the public knowledg 
ofUuB tact has tumbled the whole self exalted fabrick into the|dcptfis^ofdegradalioi 
It has become a proverb and a by-word, a reproach among mankiud. For, amon 
other abominations, its subversion of Justice, ils deceptive pretensions, and itsse 
exalted nothingneaa, have engraven it on the list of tlic works of dariiness, nevi 
_ lobe obliterated. 

^■AASTLY. The institution of Freemasonry is a work of darkness, because 
^BF beaks DECinED MASKS, OP BEiNO o>£ OF tuc (.-o.M-eoEiLiTi: powebs a 
Hf cnatnTY, PSEDicrrED by the apostle jofl>, o.t the isle of pathoi 

^P VUICB VOCLD COUBINE THE WOSLD IM AfiHS AGAINST GOD, A^-D BX OVE] 
Hr*O0XE AT THE BATTLE OF THE OBEAT DAY JUST DEF02E THE SILLEMDX. 

PF'Ib Uie sixteenth chapter of the Revelation, and under the representation of th 
^'^onring out of the sixth vial, St. John declares a vision thus, " And 1 saw thre 
unclean spirits like froge proceeding out of the mouih of the dragon, and out of lb 
mouth of the beast, and out of the mouth of the false prophet. For they arc th 
spirits of devils, working miracles, and going to the kings of Ihooarth and to th 
whole world, to gather iheoi together to the battle of the great day of God A 
mighty." 

This vision, doubtless imported, that, in the latter days, there would arise acor 
finance of opposition to God, to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and to the interest c 
hoiincsa, and that from various sources a combination of the powers of darknet 
would agree to form one vaat and mighty phalanx to oppose, root out, destroy, am 
if possible, exterminate true religion from the world. 

By the "Grealilay ofGod Almightij," we may understand the period when ther 
will be a signal display of omnipotence, in the total defeat of the combined powei 
of darkness, comprising the lust dreadful conflict which will precede the dawn ( 
nillenial glory. The powers which would form this combination of opposition t 
hohnese. and collect the world in arms against Jehovah, were represented b 
" three unclean spirits like ha^B proccedingout of the nmuths of the dragon, beasi 
and false prophet," and denominated " the spirits of devils working miracles." 

Prepare amphibious animals, that can live in air or in water: and it was a m. 
raculous multiplicity of their number thatoncccoveredlhewholo land of Egypt, an 
GonatitDted one of the dreadful plagues of that guilly nation. Probably, in alluoa 
to that awful judgment of a whole kingdom coveted w\'i.\\ >.\\QBQM'citWb''«'^'Win 
St. John saw in a rision, that the world itself wouldbe «>m^m.Viic\^ to-fra^A" 
an unclean host of opposition to God and lioUnesa ?ton\V\u«c c^Tsto^^^* ^'^'*'^' 
the powers ofdukaess. 




piiDciple o( BJtAMoK, Uie only (ule of life ackiiow)ee^;eii by tlio iufii' 
boasted unioa with various ByBtema of religioD, of directly eoaXtr 
Fieemuonry proves itself to be aaUchriHtiaD, 4 system of impoit' 
titate of tlie doctrine of anlvatioa, dcvoiil of a plattutm of correo' 
and fit only to be classeii with iha works of darkneej. i 

TBX USTtTDTIDS Ot FBSeHASOBBV U*t BI'EN nWIDBaSB 



Mahtiniet, I lie 
1 hu heea ao hijfhly extolled aa PreeiF . thtt fore ptrl of 

orators have exerted their highest stretch of power to 1 only Prophet of 

the woDderig worid. Igaorutit of its real character, w' 
guise, the world could not dispute )ts clainiK, and, cor , j v/e not UDderBtind 
nonoitr was Uiiob.'jtrucled. Under such circuuatance ised, and matuied by 

the prince of darkness to raise the popularity of the , jn of the Eastern voili 
by enlisting the great, the learned, and nobles of tlf " Opposition to the king- 

tlie fratetuily. vVliile of the religion of the Lord .led to bear down liknii^ 
many wise men atler the flcah, not raaoy imghty. . uld tend to favour Christiui' 
masonry, it has been the boast of its panegyrif '^ fnlse pretensions, and i"- 
uobbe, kings of the earth, chief captoioa of 1^ , han a Ihousiuid years, delogics 
honourable rulers, chief judges, and magiatrat* / -' considered ae one of Ihespiril' 
heroes, great philosophers, learned proiatea, f .' I'lo spirits of devils working tnin- 
members of christian churches, have hoaour .tgather the nations in battle Ulh^ 
their membership. This has he«o the t' 
its orators, and the boost ot all its potieae/^W' '"^ "^ '"'''' Proceeded out of tho 

But the periiid has at last arriv^ wh^: 
obstriicla the power of perception 1 and-' jn'' '''=' P?7^" of iniquity which arose out 
stand theraanarr in wluch all these gr^'iiii'' 'lie middle of the eighth century, com- 
and learned men, mere made Dtasons , .jiWiintion of Church and State, forming » 
who, in hie kingly, or pontifical atU- , J„» !''« nfttions ol Europe were brought iDlo 
habitant of some other plaool O -. ■..jn" I'cspoiism. 

with golden bella and poraegraar, 'V'h'^"'"" ^^^. "'"*'' ""-y we not nr.deratand, 
" Holmtii to Urn Lonl" written ./I-V-uf"?' °' '"^ moulh, to signily the citrate 
gaze even of tte rJUUrtn ami « V, '^'^^^ "' ""^n- proatraliiig al] civil and relimt 
man. in order to becomea grer ^'/^tr"'"^ '• '"mplinf,' uniJer foot the laws ofht 
of wearing apparel, to the W;V> »'"'"'"'!' "' '^°^' *'"' wietdino- titc eword of per- 
aleeve-buttons; and to be r/0i^i'f^ '■" "''''^ religion from the earth. Such a 
■ awors, tried on with *m!X'^ T"* ■ ' """'^="'' years. The abomi- 

e foot, and the olhirTOV.'i*'*'"",,'^^''"*''™''''' hy the power ofGctd. 
J'Z.n soint like a frog procoedine fi«m ih« »w«.tl. ^* 



and constitute a poor 
called cabletoiv, aboidr. 



I frog proceeding from the nwuth ot 



is the mere P'ep'aBti^^^ ^f^^" "^"^P'^'e the Triple confederation of AnU- 
aminiBterorihef//^ji'>A''"'e"'y- ^ his is the first mcnlionod by the Apos- 
become a mison.' "ft *';<*<*''"'' <*'^'^e mouth of the Dragon. By the DrtBOT 
rtheteropleorrx''V.jr7^rli8l'r""^':of darkness. An unclean spirit like a fnv, 
d ceremony, w . "" : ''".^ "!"''"'■ '' is no* submitted to the good asMe' 

'■^■j liib c, who are acquainted with the history of 
1. 1>. determine, and show, whether there is any 
' iiverBc, that will answer the description of the 
'-' -nl of the mouth of the Dragon, ns destined 
:i|' the ranks of the allied powers of opposition, 
iiiisl the Almighty, if the Institution of f'ree- 
i iliie nature of the hisIitittioQ as it now ■ppear^ 
fu uy incoutPBtiiile authority, it will suffer nothing 
the otber powers of the confederaiiou. neither in 
lorce of demorahzing inHoence on the human mind, 
1 spiritually and experimentally good, and powerlo 

llie opinion U ^lEimici, IW. v\\e\ii*:vv.M^Y«t od^^H 




IS 

l^t It Dot ba CDDsidercd arrogiiiii:e in us, if we attempt to exsmiae, iviicthci aoy 
objects or events in the history of our world may be found to have exiEted, and to 
have been eo combined in their efforts to unite the farces of the world in arios 
against God, as may aitawer in any meftBure to the inspired deKriplion of the ibre- 
going vision of Bt. Johg, on the I.ileof Patmoa. 

One of the unclean spirita libe frogs, we are told, proceeded out of the rnouth of 
the " Falhe Pbophet." 

By the False Prophet of the Reveklion may we not undarsland, Mahomet, the 
arch deceiver of the Eastern world, who commenced hia career in the fore part of 
the seventh century, on the assumption of being the Great and only Prophet of 
God, superior to Jcsua Chriat himself. 

By the " spirit hke a frog," proceeding out oflila mouth, may we not understand 
the e>%at delusive system of Mahometaaism, which was devised, and matured by 
Uahomet, until, by the power of the sword, a vast proportion of the Eastern world 
was brought into subjection to an established religion, in opposition to the king- 
dom of our Lord Jesua Christ, and which was circulated to bear down tike t£e 
force of a mighty torrent, against every thing that would tead to favour Chriatian- 
ity. On this hypothesis. Ma home tan ism with all its false pretensions, and de- 
etractive delusions which have prevailed for more than a thousand years, deta^g 
the Eastern natioDB with a flood uf errors, maybe considered as one oftheapirils 
like frogs, which belong to tlie combination of the spirits of devils working mira- 
cles, and going to the kings of the earth, to gather the nations in battle at the 
great day of God. 

Another of these unclean spirits like frogs, wo are told, proceeded out of the 
mouth of the " Beabt," 

Bv the " Brasi^ may wo not understand that power of iniquity svhich arose out 
of the sea of national commotion, about the middle of the eighth century, com- 
prising the supreme authority of a combination of Church ana State, fonning a 
uvil and ecclesiastical polity, by which the nations of Europe were brought into 
■Ubjection to the power of Anti'christian despotism. 

If the power of Anti-christian Despotism is the Bcasi, may we not ur.dersload, 
the unclean spirit like a frog proceeding out ofbis mouth, to signify the excicaa of 
that power, lorded over the consciences of men, prostrating all civil end religioaB 
liberty at the feet of an iulleiuble Tyranny ; trampling under foot the lawa ofaea- 
vea ; setting at open defiance the authority of God, and wielding the sword oTper- 
■ecutioa against tho follov;ers of Jesus to drive religion from the earth. Such a 
drama has been acted in the world for more than a thousand years. The abomi- 
nation still exists, and will continue, until it is overthrown by the power of God. 
Such is the nature of tiie unclean spirit liko a frog |>rocecding from the mouth of 
the Beast. 

But there is still one spirit more to complete tho Triple confederation of Anti- 
christian powers against the Almighty. This is the first mentioned by tho Apos- 
tie, in his vision, and proceeded out of tho mouth of the Dragon. By the Dragon 
we may understand Satan the Prince of darkness. An unclean spirit like a frog, 
is represented as going out of his month. It is now submitted to the good sense 
of all who read and understand the Bible, who are aci[uainted with the history of 
nations, and the providence of God, to determine, and show, whether there is any 
osiating object or power in the universe, that will answer the description of the 
unclean spirit like a frog proceeding out of the mouth of the Dragon, as destined 
by the Prince of darkness, to closo up the ranks of the allied powers of opposition, 
and complete the confederation against the Almighty, if the Institution of Kree- 
masonry in not that object. From the nature of the institution as it now appears 
before '.ho world, and is confirmed by incoolestible authority, it will suiter nothing 
by a comparison with either of the other powers of the confederatiou. neither ia 
relation to extent of doraiaion, force of demoralizing induence on the human mind, 
pointed op;josition to all that is spiritually and experimentally good, and pa*Ka|4B 
deceive and deeUoy immortB\ souls. J^^H 

Froia each conai derations the opinion n \ibi.at>Vtiiin VW. vWV'o^Ii^uiJninafl^H 



^ 



19 



mmnry ia the object ilesigiDatcd bj' the unclean spirit like a, Irog; which proceedctl 
out of the mouth of the Dragon, Agreeably to tbc vision of the holy Apostle on tht 
Isle of Patmoa. Admitting this lo be the fact, the Grand Confederation is coni' 

?lete, comprising Mahometanisin, Anli-christian Despotism, and Frecmosonry. 
'heir number if Three, their nature is One, and their extent is equal to the in 
spired virion. They are three powers of iniquity. This is what constitula 
their natures unclean, i. e. unholy. Their affinity consists, only, in their agree 
ment to oppose God and holiness, to deceive mankind, and to destroy their souls 
In this work of darkness their powers combine and concentrate. And thus the] 
go unitedly to the kings of the earth and to the whole world, to gather them to 
gether to the battle of the great day. But, thoir combined forces will be broken 
and triumnhsntly overcome. Al! opposition to the Gospel of Jesus shall be pui 
down. The sun of millenial glory will arise, Satan will be bound, and the earll 
J iiWfl l be filled with the knowledge ofGod. 

^E IMPROVEMENT. 

I >'' IF such is the nature of spcculstivc Freemasonry, then all lovers of God, lover 
of mankind, and well-wishers to the best interests of community, are under spe 
cial obligation to renounce it, to withdraw fellowship from all who adhere to it 
to reprove it by precept and example ; and, by every laudaiile effort, endeavour ti 
exterminate its influence from the society of mankind. Such is the admonition c 
an inspired Apostle. " Have no fellowsiiip with the unfruitful works of darkness 
'aut rather reprove them." Particularly on a review oF the foregoing subject, i 
may be remarked, 

FIRST. That all mimsteks of the gospel of every penohihathk! 

WBD ABB HABOKS, AND ALL MASONIC alBKRGRS OF CHRISTIAN CHUKCHEa, AK 
COLLECTIYELT AND rNDtVlDCALI-V BOCND RT TUB AITTHORITV OF OOD's HOI' 
WOBD, TO BENOCNCE FELLOWEBIF WITH FB EEMASONBy. 

They are under do less obligation lo renounce fellowship with Ihit \eiyrk ofdarli 
ness. and to reprove it, than they are to renounce, abstain from, and reprov 
Adultery, Intemperance, Profanity, Sabbath-breaking, Thefl, Perjury, Murder, c 
any Dtberwork of darkness that can be named. Adherence loihe principles of a 
institution, combined in its efibrls to niBiotain opposition to God, cannot conaii 
with the maintenance of Christian character. As well may there be fellowshi 
beltvcen light and darkness ; as well may there be concord between Christ an 
Belial ; as well may he that believeth have part with an infidel, as for a professe 
minister of the gospel, or any private Christian, to conlinue connexion and fetlon 



ship with Freemasonry, and still maintain an unblemished Christian cbaracte 
and an holy walk with God. 

One distinguished part of the device of the Prince of darkness, in promoting th 
institution of Freemasonry, has been to influence ministers of the gospel, and men 
here of christian churches, to become members of the rralernily. Varioua met 
sures have been adopted to accomplish this purpose. Ministers have been tol< 
that the knowledge of masonry would enablo them to understand their Bible be' 
ter. and qualify iTiem for more extensive usefulness lo mankind. As a farther ii 
ducement, the Grand Lodge has decreed, and the decree has been published an 
practised in the subordinate lodges, that ministers of the gospel should be entitle 
to the degrees of masoory gratii. The devices of the adversary have so well su( 
ceeded, that no small proportion of the ministers of the gospel have become masoni 
and. as a matter of course, many of the members of their respective churches hav 
followed the example of their Pastors. It would be rational lo suppose that minii 
ters, and all professors of christianily, after taking the first degree of masonry, i 
the degrading manner which we have before described, woula be coti'niM*^ ^ 
■^ the light they had received belonged lo the works o? &uV.tvCsk, Mii'iN™^* 

"ltd have ijislafl I J7 withdrawn Ihemselves from s\\ feWows^w? "«\V\v *.> ^^'^ 
' themselres 6y rfeep repentance before God, anft wntcaef^e^ to'rf«»'^'^ 



the^ 



20 

men. Some, it is balicvcii. havn ilonc iliis, but oLiicrs iiavG not. Sitonldlhe quM- 
tion be&aked me, why I pcroiitced mysclJ' to take Tweuty-one degrees of maaotiTy 
before I renounced it, I CQuld noly niiJiwcr, that such 1b the indeecribftble powef of 
m&souic inratualion, tbat one step into darknee? prepares for another, uidonwud 
maiiy press, as I foolisbly did, in search for light, and tciencc. and knowledge, Uid 
wonders, till Satan, the old infernal spider, has wound the web of masoiuc oalha 
&nd penalties, Five, Ten, Fifteen, yea, Twenty times and upwards round tbem, 
binding them by the penalty of death, to continue all their bfe time, in the (ellow- 
abipand practice of the works of darkncca. How deplorable would have been the 
condition of masonic ministers, and all the masonic members orChristian churches 



thus entangled, had there been no method ilevised by which Ihej mighl Uwfidly 
escape the snare of th*} adversary, and obey the commandments of God! 

Many imbibe the idea, that this is in fact the cose : that their masonic obliga- 
lions are perpetually and sacredly binding ; and that to renounce FreenwMtarj, 
would be a crime of perjury. But, ifmasonry is a work of darkness, how can men 
be bound by its obligations, when God commands them to icaounce it f The obh- 
gations IhemscheB belong to the work of darkness, and to repent of theaio of 
takii^ masonic oaths, and to break them instantly, is the import of the divine com- 
ntaniT when God says, " Have no fellowship with the works of darknesn." A de- 
terininalion to adhere to masonic obligations, is, in effect, to proclaim open war 
with God and heaven, to set at nought the councils of Jehovah, and porsttc the 
road ta destruction. 

How perfectly absurd is the idea, that ministers of the gospel, and professors of 
Christianity, who are entangled in the works of darkness, should be bound by oath 
under penalty of death, to continue in their sinful abominations during life I Th« 
amount is, \Ve have sworn to serve Satan for ever, and the oath must be per- 
formed. What can bi; more preposterous ? It is clearly proved tbat the oatns of 
masonry are unlawful and wicked, and that to adhere to them will lead men to 
destruction- It is the doctrine of common sense that unlawful oaths are not 
binding. If a man takes an unlawful oalh, he is bound by the authority of heaven 
to repent of tbat act, to break that oath, to humble himself before God, and >eek 
for pardon. This is Bible doctrine. This is common sense. Were the Forty 
men of old bound to murder >^t. Paul, because they had rashly sworn to do it on 
penalty of death, in case of failnrc? And would thoy have perjured theinsclve^ 
had they repented and publicly renounced their wicked oath ? Was Itcrod bound 
to take the life of John the Baptist, bcoause he had sworn to grant the request of 
a giddy yoong female? Suppose a man should rashly swear in the morning, that 
he would kill his neighbour before sunset, would he be bound to keep and perform 
tkat oath f Or would it be his duty to break the oath, and repent of the wicked- 
ness of malicious swearing to perpetrate the moat horrid crime ' Or, suppose a 
man should be decoyed to take an oath of partnership with a company thus bovnd 
by an oath of confederacy, and it should turn out that they were a band of higb- 
way robbers; would this man be bound by his oath to rob mails, pickpockeU, 
break open houses, and plunder for ^ain, at the risk of life and expense rf 
blood, because he had sworn thus to do ? Or would it be bis dut^ to break the 
oath which bound to perform such nocturnal depredations, in violation of all laws. 
human and divine, and to repent, forsake, and expose the wickedness of the com- 
bination ? Who can he!>i(atc a moment in deciding each of the above cases againci 
Ihe bindingforce ofoaths to commit unlawful acta? Every suchoalh is wicked, 
and ought to be broken ; and such are the obligstions of masonry. Every mason 
is, hence, sacredly bound by the aiilhority ofheaven, to renounce all his oaUu of 
allegiance to the institution of Freemasonry, because they bind to the perfbrmanc* 
ofthings, unlawful in their nature, absurd and ridiculous in their observance, and 
destructive in their consequences. 

With such contamination, the churches of our Lord Jesus Christ are poButed- 
Manj minislera are masons, and tefitsc to hear the admonitions end reproof of 
hoivea. Many of their membcre foWow tl\ert cxim^^. TJoa'A^eBB Satan iriumphs 
in giich fidelity to his cause- K mmisVcr o^ vVc ?,Qs.'fe\. v»'t.o tvjwwm.*;* towsm^. 



I 

tu scarcely fud tlie door oi' a cliurch open to liia kboure among some ilenooimi 
lions, for [he rcaBcin that there are so many &ilherentH to maaonr; in the chord. 
Many ministers who tire not masons, dare not unite in the feUowship ofa seccdin 
brotber. for fearot'ofTendmg some of their masonic hearers nnii supporters. Geni 
raJ A. Colonel B, Doctor C, Esquire B, Lawjere E and P, Herchsnts G and I 
and other Great men down to X, Y. and Z, ere roaMns. Every eye is upon tb 
raiuisler. The Icosl word or deed that might be construed against masonry, wi 
COBUre to the Pastor, what is termed by bome a •• awalkii^paper," \. p, ggn^ 
complaint must be preferred against him, and he must be dismissed (in disgrac 
if posnbia) frem hin congreg-atiuo. Such ia the mfluence of masonry in Ui 
church. Satan has planted hi* in ler n ai stand ird in the centre. Many a chnrc 
door ia tyled Wih the drawn aword of ;nnsonic power. The ordinancts of Gc 
are contaminated with the spiril of masonic vengeance. Uany will profess to h 
ment that it is so, and express a wish that it were otherwise. But under tl 
baooer ofthe works ot'darhncBa, who will dare to face the enemy, and boldly to 
lify the truth of God ! Not he, who is a mason, and holds to the binding force i 
ita obligations ; nor he who is awed to silence by masonic influence. Such walcl 
men wUl have fellowship with the worksof darkness, when God commands them I 
renniDCC, be separate, reprove, and touch not the uocli'sn thing. O when shs 
tbo aona of Levi be purifieil from the defiling powers of dariiness ! When sballt^ 
chnrch be purged from the abominations of masonry! 



AOAINSTTBB ATROriOCS SaTDRB OP THR ISSnTCTION OF FRKEMASOKBT, Wrr 
THE SANR PLAIN?<1»9 AND ENERdT THAT TBEV AKE REQinBED TO OK I 
FKKACHIKG AOAIKIT SAEBATH-DREAEmo, FBOFAmTE, mTEMFERA^CE, OB All 
OTBKE QROSB IMMORAUTT. 

One essenlial character i^tic of God's faithful ministers in aU ages of the wwh 
liaa been to sound an alarm, when danger appeared ; to point out, in detail, tt 
prevailing sins of the timoc; and plainly warn, and admonish the people to rcpen 
ODCe and reformation. Those, who failed to do this, forfeited the titlo of (he 
commission, incurred the dieplcasaro of God, and were held accountable for ()i 
goilt and htood of lost souls. Frcemssoory, the once protended " Hcmdmaid i 
Religion." has proved to be in reality a work ofdarkness. And il may. with pre 
priely. he termed Satan's Grand Master Piece, the very Cap of tli* Chmax, i 
all his stratagems to accomplish the work of destruction. Perversion of God's liu] 
word; a blasphenous use of his great name; a profanation of sacred and ho) 
things : the subversion of Justice; abominable ImpoGturc, perjury, blood, andmu 
der are found in its shirts. Can the ministers of the holy religion ofJesusbc jui 
tified. then, in the practice of passing over, in total silence, the enormities of pri 
vailing Preemasoory, which threaten destruction to all that is dear in life, hofwfi 
in death, and blissful in etemify ! Can they be justified, it is asked, on the groun 
of being masons themselves .' Not, indeed, aalong as the words '■Have no fe 
lowship with the unfmitful works of darkness" stand written in the book ot Goi 
Can they bejustified in such neglccl, for fear of offending some of their masoni 
hearers and supporters, or tkciT Siends ? As well might Ihey connive at Sabhatl: 
breaking. Profanity, Drunkeness, Theft, Falsehood, Infidelity, and all oUie 
abominable wickedness, for fear of offending some of iheir immoral hearers an 
supporters, or their conneKions. O how can the Watchmen on the walls of Zio 
clear their skirtH from the blood of sools, while, for the love of praise, or to prt 
serve a false peace, or for fear of losing some of ihcir friendB. and a portion t 
their salary, they shul their eyes and ears, and put a Real on their lips, by Ih 
plea, ■' We know nothing about masonry, and pnidence leads us to say nothin 
jbontit; or we are members of the Institution DUrselvos, and will ne«w N\ia^W 
^Mjl most sacred obligations!" Surely, sucU minffilona^ tiMvv^ Vi\.VeVtfj*A-^«w>7 
H^tattoo oTFreemuoDry, must he the lesuk nf " »HM;.si.sa -navftv^? -m-^sw 



22 

descnbes it ; f ca, Darkness incomprelicaBib/c Usuiog from the Eiuoke of the bot- 
tomless pit. 

In view of such consideratioDS. I feel it to be mj indiepe tillable duty, arising from 
a aenpc of ray own shameful experience uf the knowledge of maHonrji, to entreat 
Diy brtthreD m ibc holy ministry, and add to my entreaty a aulcmi) warning, eepe- 
ci&lly to (hose who are masona, to renounue, come out, and lie aeparalt' from ma- 
tonic abominatiune. All others, I would entreat and b<;sei.>cb to lifl up Ihoir voice, 
and be OQt afraid, but testify publicly, and privately, against tlie worka of dark- 
ness. If masonic membera of churches will cleave to maaonry, and falaely deny 
the eoormities of ila nature, exclude them from the communion ofthe church, that 
the sanctuary may be purified from the foul contnniinaljon. Yea, 1 would entreat, 
and beseech the judicatories of the uliurch.or all denuminations of Christiana, to 
unite their wiadnm. their talents, and pioua efforts, to wtthatarid, Euppress. and root 
out this formidable enemy ofrighl'-'iuBneBB, with all its combined and complicated 
powers of deception, until it is esiermiuated from our land, and banished from the 
world. If minislera have been in>lrumeni-il in promoting ila popularity, let roinia- 
lers humble thcniaelvee tn he more inBtrumental in promoting its overlhtov. 
Though it may cobt ihcm ihrirgond name, the hatred and opposition of Satui: the 
contempt and persecution of wicked men, and the rEncEAtiCE of maaons, jet God 
will not fftil to reward Ihem with hii priimiaed blessing. And as a aeal of tha tM> 
timony which I have borne, and now bear, against the institution of FreemsMnry, 
I do now most solemnly protest against, and totally disavow, the prevailing usage 
of tliose churches of all denominHtions of professing Christians, who conaider it do 
breach of gospel rule, to hold in their connexion and fellowship Ibe avnwed adbe- 
rentsofan inatitutioQ which belongs to the works of darknesa, Drmly believing it to 
be my duty to renounce the fellowship of all professing Christians who denominate 
liiemsclves Freemasons, who knowingly and acnrimentally avow the usages, and 
profeiisedly hold in sacred veneration the masonic binding force and virtue of the 
obligations of epceulttive Freemasonry. 

TO CONCLUDE. 



The light of truth has disclosed the long coneeoled fact, tlial one of the 
principal objects of the institution of Freemasonry, is to secure tlie posts of 
oHicc, tile seats uf honor, the ensigns of power, with nil their emoluments, 
and thus sway the energies of civil government. To secure this march to 
tlic summit of elevation, is the clause in the oath of the Royal Arch Degree, 
which, it IS well known, has been introduced in some lodges ns u part of the 
Matter Mason't Obligation : " I promise and sweur that i will vote for a 
brother or companion mason, and promote his election lo ollice, in prefer- 
ence to any other candidate of r>qual qualification." It is on this principle, 
and this only, that it can now he accounted for, that oUout two-thirds, if not 
threc-fiitirths, of all the offices of our civil, military, and municipal deparl- 
mcnts of g-overnmenl have been filled with mitsons. Even from the respon- 
sible trust of Ihe Presidential chair, to the most inferior town office Ihrougfa- 
oul our wide spread Republic, a majoriti/ of masons, it is helicveil. still bear 
rule; and masonry, (with other things designated liy Agurof old,) will never 
say " A it enotigh" as long ns there is an office within the bounds of the 
nntion, which is not filled with n ma.'iun. 
Secret cocietics nro always dongeri>us to civil government ; and none is 
in greater danger from their influence. t\>*t\ n ^(.eyivUican form of govern- 
•noni. Its offices hcing filled \iy lUo e\ect\vc trMiG^\\w,v>M\tM\&vBSi.T\i)wl 



^ 



rights can be socurcd only by ibc suffrage of a tree people. But the whole 
boily politic cannot be free and independent so long as a part or the com- 
Diunity are combined under obUi of secrecy, and under circumstances to ar- 
rogate to themselves the power of confedernte inBuence, to promote each 
othem' elevation to office, honor, wealth, and power, in preference to meRi' 
bers nC the other part of community, who are acknowledged to possess 
equal qualifications. This is precisely the adv.inlage, which Freemasons, 
under the mask of charily and good will lo man, have exerciaed over the 
rest of community By ibis advantage, it has evirlently been their aim to 
secure the exclusive right of office, emolument, and government. And ere 
the Commonwealth was apprised of the imposture, or discovered omens oj 
danger, tlie chains of masonic despotism were forging- and preparations fast 
making lo bind the nation in its power. What the result would have been, 
iiad the works of darknesa met with no repulse, is beyond the power of pre- 
sent calculation. Suppose the secret machinations of masonry had suc- 
ceeded without molestatioii, until, by its mystic power of elevation, all the 
commanding officers of the military and maritime Ritccs of our nalional 
defence, all officers of civil government, post maslers, and directors of tlie 
various banking eBlablishments had been masons ; and all the tlnancial 
sources of the nation had been brought within the compass of masonic 
grasp. 

AAer all this preparation, suppose a plot had been formed lo overthrow 
our dcarbought Kepublican Government, to erect a throne in this western 
world, and place on it a Grand, Sublime, Royal, Ten Times Thrice Illustri- 
ous, and Absolutely Sovereign Masonic King. Suppose the " Thirteenlh 
day oj the moaih Adar" had been selected to blow the trumpet in Wash- 
ington and proclaim " God Save the Masoric Klno," while ail the mem- 
bers of the Grand and Subordinate Lodges, Chapters, and Encampments ir 
the Union, having been notified by posts, lo prepare themselves on the day 
appointed, were well harnessed, with Sword. Shield, and Buckler, and com- 
missioned to kill, slay, and utterly destroy all who would not respond at the 
sound of the nalional trumpet, ■> God Savb the Masonic Kirco." T* de- 
fray the expense of all necessary force of arms, in securing the triumph ol 
a Coronation, and unconditional submission lo his Sovereign Masonic Ma- 
jesty, suppose the grasp had been made on the vaults of the numerous 
Banks, and money oflered in exubernnce lo all who would enter ihe field in 
support of the Revolution. Under such circunmlances, what could have 
prevented ihe total overthrow of our national government, and the establish- 
ment of an absolute Masonic Monarchy ? If the government of Franct 
was revolutionized in three days, might not the government of these Unitec 
States have been changed to Monarchy in one day by the Mystic Power o 
Masonic Stratagem ? Nothing could have prevented such a revolution, bui 
the interposition of that Divine Providence which has broken asunder tht 
strongly fortiHed enchantnients of Freemasonry, and exposed its works ol 
darkness to the world. The God of Israel has interposed. Glory be lo bii 
name ; the Lord of Uosls baa hitherto prevented our national ruin. 

But even on the supposition that the exposures of the abominations o 
Freemasonry should terminate in civil war. as has been already inainuated 
how many lliousands of the miscreants of our land, would be found bast 
enough, for the love of money, and rum, and war, lo shouldeT &(«r^Tne.<,>^'^ 
sheath the sword, join the masons, and a"««M ^l^ 'iw ?M«,xi'^ ^ '^* "V^ 
oiv, that tlioy would conquer Anti-iD«,aonT'! or fi\(i''.— ^\«»'*^^^^'*^ 



J 

It is a meanurc llial u comprised wiUiin the " Compatt, bi/uare, anil Ai^^ 
of maaonic effoit. And who can calculate the result of such &□ outrage on 
the American ^overnnienl ? The amount of the loss of Wood and treasare, 
miglil be such as Vengeance ilaelf might not be able lu countervail, nor to 

Our only hope is in God. Our prayer is, that under the Dirine Protec- 
tion, Amtricans, who have b^un laught the lesson of Freedom at the ex- 
pense of the blood of their Fatheis, and the widowhood of their Mothers, 
will slill be FKF.E. The litles, and honors, and rooltos of Masonry, saveur 
hktd of Royally, Sovereignly, and Despotism. Let masonry prevail and 
prosper, and the deplorable results may be looLcd for. of a Masonic Jlion- 
■rchy for our form of government ; a masonic established religion ; a ma- 
sonic church ; H masonic way to a muaunic heaven ; >and blood and massacre, 
and destruction lo all who subscribe not to support the Monarch, who sways 
the energies, und rewards the services of the works of darkness. 

Then might he written with tears and blood, America is fallen ! TTie last 
ray of her independence is covered with despotic darkness ! Her Hope b 
withered ! Wo, Wo unfurl* the banner of moral deaolation over the 
length and breadth of the once happy land ; while an unholy religion de- 
fended and nurtured by masonic \evqza^ck. shall lead millions of immortal 
beings from ihe masonic conclaves of darkness on earth, lo the pit of eternal 
darkness below. O, my countrymen '. my countrymen ! beware of the en- 
chanting, delusive adversary, and awake to secure the best interest of the 
nation 1 If Freemasonry is a work of darkness, engendering destruction to 
the morals, and happiness, and souls of men, and inimical to ttie very ax»- 
(once of our inestimable government, then lo oppose ils progress bf eveiy 
laudable measure, trusting in God for success, and praying for the promised 
brightness of his coning to destroy these works of ihe advereary, must be 
the indispensable duty of every lover of Righteousness, of Liberty, and 
Independence. This is the true spirit of Anti-mai^onry. Opposition Iw (be 
masonic works of durknesH, is the atnouat of its import. Hence, if Free- 
masonry is bad, Anti-muaoory is good To promote this cause, was riie 
object of the late National Conventioo in Philadelphia. .May God fbOov 
their deliberations with his blessmg May the measures which have been 
adopted, diffuse a savour of the knowledge of the evib of Freemasonry orer 
the Republic of America, and to the remotest regions of earth. May the 
march of the destroyer be successfully and triumphantly opposed at eTcry 
rallying point of defence, until its power and influence shall he so weakened, 
that there shall not even be strength enough to cry Quarlera .' And being 
banished to the land of oblivion, may the blessmos of Freedom and Peace 
be guaranteed to the nation, by the auffroge of an independent people, and 
thus be perpetuated, without contamination, to the latest posterity. 




LETTER 



ON THE CONNEXION BETWEEN 



THE NEW DOCTRINES AND THE NEW 
MEASURES. 



By EDWARD D. QRIFFIN, D. D. 



ALBANY: 

VKIHTBD BY BOIfOKD AXD WAIT. 




I 



IVUUami Oolkge, dpril 2, 1833. 
My Dear Sir, 

You aik »hat connexion there U between (he new doc- 
trinei and new measured ? It is certain Ihat lome who regard 
with contiderable favor, haTe not adopted 
doctrines. It is certain also that others who have 
fallen in with the new doctrines as far ai the; understand them, 
flo, from their natural temperament and their acquired habit* 
of thinking, stand in doubt of the new measures. But in fat 
Ibe grealer number of instances Iho doctrines and the measures 
^ together unless separated by imperious circumstances. 
Among the steady habits or Netr-England, and in the polished 
precinct* of our cities, it would be difficult for the doctrines to 
break n way for the measures ; and a necessary rcgiard for 
public opinion will hold men back from attempting such un- 
palatable innovations. But the measures have really grown 
out of the doctrines by fair logical deduction, and that in three 
ways. 

1. From the power ascribed to motives. The moment you 
have arrived at the conclusion that nothing can touch the mind 
but motives, it becomes your interest to throw motives on the 
mind as fast and as forcibly as you can : and to carry the 
pressure to the greatest extent possible, you are tempted, es- 
pecially if your taste ii bad, to overleap propriety. What is a 
violation of order compared with the lodgement of the only 
■ancUfying power among the sensibilities of the soul ? That 
infinite advantage atones for every fault in the manner. 

2. From the independent power ascribed to sinners. Tbej 
■re fuHy competent to turn themselves, and why should they 
not be beset by every means that can possibly work on crea- 
taxtn of mch a Gonattlution i No matter rthelher tbe roeas- 




I 



urea arc addrened to conscience or sclfitliness or imagiDa" 
tion or the social affeclioDS or llie animal pasBJona ; if lliey can 
only induce the man, however \Ticked, (o corueiil to fall in 
tvilh the molireB presented in divine tnilb, ho ia forever aared. 
Who then will hrsitale lu work upon him hy oveiy meaiu io 
his power ? No matter what molivea move Uial previous coo-' 
sent of tlic wicked man ; the holineia lies in Ids subtequent 
■ubmisaion la the truth. 

3. From the language employed rcspccling Ibe divinoiw of 
the mind. In these doctrineB the heart and will are wrapt up 
under the common name of ivilt, and the exerciaea o( bolb 
arc called volilioni. By Arminian philosophers this language 
is used in a sense above the vulgar meaning of ihe lema ; but 
in unpbiloBophical lipa the syalematic phrases are brought down 
to their import in common converanlion. The immeasuiable 
difficulty of moulding a depraved kcart is lost in Ihe sinking of 
i(i name, and in imagination every thing becomes as easy af 
it ia Io will. It is only for n man Io will to be good and be 
ii good. But Ibis is altogether deceptive. The will does DOt 
control Ihe heart. Let thai worldling resolve to-day at tea 
o'clock that he will love God at twelve, and what will it avail f 
And yel this is the precise action of llie will that is uf^ed up- 
on awakened sinners. " Resolve llial you will submit befora 
you leave Ilie house." " Resolve Ihat you will do it befora 
you rise from prayer." " Promise mo that you will submit 
by such a time, and I will pray for you." The pressure upoB 
the stupid is different. As it is thought thai Ibe chief inSuenca 
of their depravity lies in drawing away Ibeir attention from Iba 
Irulh, and Ihat their allenlion fixed on the Inilh has a tendeocy 
Io mould their afiTcclions, and if continued will probably pre- 
vail, Ibey are urged to resolve and Io promise to attend to tba 
subject. The pressure of thai resolution is wilhoul objection ; 
foe Ibo will has much influence over the altenlion, and would 
perhaps steadily control it were it not for Ibe £lfulneaa of 
memory. 

The grand thing then to be done is Io work up sinners to ■ 
resolution ; lirsl to a resoliilion to altend, and afterwards la 
a resolution Io submit, Such a resolution persisted in will, 
it is thoughl, be effectual. Who then can hesitate to work 
Upon sinners, by all possible means, to raise them up and Io 
keep them raised Io Ibis saving resolution ? Who will beii- 
tatfl Id work upon Ihem, not merely, as believers in divios effi- 



I 




^■tdui 



^oc7 do, by Initbs calculnled to call farlh holy affections and 
'niiposes, bu[ by any Iruthi or fads, (or faliehoodB, ao far >> 
J CBD lee,) tliat will induce Ihein to rcsolvi t For (he tt 
~ ' 'hich causes the goodness is not good ; for then a 111 _ 
^Vould be the cauae of ilaelf: and yet the resolution, bowcnr 
iced, can, when formed, change the hcBrt. 
If I believed that a resolution persisted in for a little •easoQ) ' 
ms the almighty sanclifier, though itself unholy, I see not hcnr 
2 could avoid going out of the ordinary way tu ransBck tbs 
rid for all sorts of means, good, bad, and iodlBercnt, that 
lid by any chance work upon the human constitution and 

Ljnt in motion (he Belf-determining poner. At least I should 
gmrlesdy address (he seltish passions, for in them I should ex- 
cel to find my most powerful auxiliaries : and any thing to 
Mice (be man resolve, and hold him to his resolution. Nto 
Mter how wicked (hat resolution is ; it cannot bo holy, for it ' 
I only the cause ol holiness : it must be supremely selfish, fcf ^ 
ba l]«arl is not yet Ironirerred to l^od : it must be full of e 
nty against God, for it is not subject lo bii law. But do 
Htter what i( is, or by wha( impure molives it is raised : if I - 
elieved the doctrine, I see not how I could avoid searchii^ 
ke world for motives of every description that could work up- 
B the human frame, and that could induce a bad man (o form 
n unholy resolution to change (ho affections o{ his heart. 

Thui we have found three distinct reasons which may be 
jppoaed to atimulale the advocates of these doctrines to io- 
ndate the world with motives of all possible aorta and formi, 
■d to besiege sinners, (as fully competent to convert Ihem- 
ilrea,) with (he most vehement and unyielding importunity to 
snsant to fall in with the motives and to resolve to give their 
Mrls to God. Under the urgency of these reasons moit 
KBchen, instead of limiting themselves to (he direct pressura 
r divine tru(h upon (he conscience, will be carried away 
lb) humanly inven(ed means, to multiply motives not known 
I diviae (ruth: motives, for instance, growing out of a public 
ill (o take " the anxious seats," out of a call to rise up to 
nquesi public prayers, out of public meetings, oi prayen 
with individuals, continued till a late hour of the night, out of ' 
pfOtracted meetings loo often repealed or loo long continued, 
out of basly admiesions to Ihe church, out of new dnd stianga 
of speech and of prayer, out of public prayers for neigh- 
irhoods and individuals expressly named as wicked abor* 




I 

Ik 



otben, Bnd in lome inatances, out of actual disortlers of various J 
kindi. Motives of these sorts, except bo far as they iocideik* 1 
talljr aid in conveving; truth to the mind, ore not addressed td¥ 
reason, but to imagination, to the selfish and aDinil pas'] 
sions, and arc fitted only to promote unseemly extravagaoci^ 
and fatal delusions. The iraaginBiion and animal feelings wee' 
doubtless iroplnnled in our natnie to subserve the putposea d 
religion, as well as to promote the union and happines* of k 
ciely : but wheu they assume dominion, they distort risiigt 
into the wild workings of unsanctified nature, which fai^lf 
delude the subjects, and drive many others into doubt if ■ ' 
into inlidelily. In numerous instances, where the delusion il 
fed by the sacred elements, it may last till death ; in n 
others il dissolves, after a fen monlhs, into a spirit more n 
ed than the first, and perhaps into judicial blindness which m 
their doom. I have seen, since tliese new operations begi 
instances of delusion enoufrh lo break the liearl, and have hi 
solemn fears that the Spirit of God may be grieved fi 
churches. There is immense danger in making onset* n 
the passions with but sparsely scallercd rays of divine I 
This danger would be revealed to all by a close study of tM 
human constitution. Would to God that this study i 
view of danger may become universal. Under the most j*** 
dicious conduct of revivab, and with the most cautious n 
of address, there is nlways danger that the supposed lubjei 
will mistake natural feelings for vpirilual affections. Thia I 
the grand besetting danger to a race whose " heart is dec 
ful above ail things." The remedy is, the clearert po 
exhibition of divine truth, with no other excitement of pi 
than naturally follows from the unmixed truths of the C 
offered in their most affecting attitudes and relations, 
where little truth is presented and much done by other n 
lo move the passions, the danger of fatal delusions is incaloi^* 
lably increased. And if by these measures you introduofl >■ 
unianclilicd soul into the church, you almost ensure its eteiiMl 
destruction. How few, how very few, give evidence of being 
converted after they join the church, though multitudes in lt« 
church give evidence of beingwithout religion. Tbeavilacf 
Ibis course are infinite. Your example may excite a tfaoimMl 
others to do the same, and they n million ; until the eril il 
cured by the boundless disasters thrown upon the eyes of all 
tatn. To pursue a course so calculated to delude i 




ftou, 



beings and to bring conlempl on tbe religion or Cbriit, InvoWei 
more widely extended Injury and a more awful responslbilitf 
MD any other. God forbid that I should speak against earoerfg 

of Hitdress. Let the troths cf henveo, in their own umvl 
lilted glory and pungency, be urged upon the consctencf 
Igb your own Ufe vim at stake, and nitb all the pleadioga 
bended knee : but while you feel your absolute depend- 
tflce on God, you will deliver your messago, not witli the yIO' 
of one storming a castle, but with all tbo humble and 
Qorrected earnestness of a sorvaitl who deeply feeU the truths 
m delivers, whose heart is dissolved in love for dying men and 
glory of God, but who realizes that he is as incompetent to 
vise the dead as EzekicI was over Iha valley of Ihe slain. 
Hiat prophet went fonli lo preach exactly the preaching which 
God bid him. He delivered his message without the change 
tt a word ; without any discouragement from the deadneia 
and exceeding tlryncES of the bones ; with his^ycs fised on 
thu baav«ns and Lis hope in God alone. And when he had 
the bidding of God he silently retired to propheqr 
to tho wind, or as it would be expressed in Gospel languaga, 
to pray for the Spirit. All was inefiable desire, conscious 
Bottungness, abEOiuIe depcndancc, and agonizing prayer. 

I knew a man once, who, in a very largo and crowded 
flclool bouse, when Ibc whole assembly were dissolved by tbe 
■udden descent of tbe Holy Spirit, and he himself, under an 
overpowering sense of Gospel Irulh, felt as if he had always 
been an infidel before, seldom raised his voice the whole eve- 
sung above Ihe ordinary tone in a private room. Tho effect up - 
the audience was a crushing impression of truih with- 
out passion. When tiie meeting was dismissed the whole as- 
Kmbly stood. After a while tho preacher arose and uttered a 
Aw words and eat down. Tiie assembly still remained im- 
Uo?eabla. They were then desired lo retire. Not a person left 
Ibe house. The praacher, ailer sitting some lime, began to 
■peak in a low voice lo two or three near hira. Inslanlly the 
distant members ascended Ihe seats. When the meeting broke 
up rnany followed him home. A lai^e portion of llie assem- 
bly from that evening became anxious inquirers, and in the 
Mid bopoful converts. And yet during the evening every thing 
WM as still as a funeral. 

Tbe converts of that day were weighed down wilh a deep 
BN of eternal truth, and were strongly marked with humility 




8 



■nd aeir-dUlnisl ; differing ia these regpeola, 1 fear, from Iha' i 
mass who nre brought fonvnrd under present meusures. Thej 
nere more disposed la hide IbemselTeB in a secret comer, than 
to make Iheir voice to be heard on high ; to retire for prayer 
and self- examination, than to lead in the first public meetings 
to acquire the rudinienta of Chriatiao knowledge, than to lun. J 
public teachori at once. 

These new measures, among Iheir other tendencies, 
discourage the friends of the old revivaU from going fonrard,' ] 
leit tbey should excite action which they disapprove aod^i 
dread. In some circumstances it requires a strong desin^fl 
witli some distinct encouragement that God is present, to ri 
aboTe this tremendous apprehension. How far our brethror^l 
who have not gone into llie doctrines, will feel warranted ti 
bold back from llio balder measures for the sake of united ac I 
lion, is for them to determine. I would give up no man fopl 
mere measures. But when the doctrines and liie slrongW | 
measures are united, they place men within the pale of anoth- 
er denomination, end leave the same space between ua and ' 
them as intervenes between Presbjterians and Methodist*. 
I am, My Dear Sir, truly and affectionately yours. 

E. D. GRJFFIN. 



r 



//7. 



LETTER 



THE REV. ANSEL D. EDDY, 



OF CANANDAieiri, V. T. 



0* nn xABBATiTS or xm 



UM MTCtiAO 07 BMUCnOVf 



^ftiBAtflKlf Olf OBNtVA. 



sr CDWABD D. oBirmr, 

niNBBMT or wiixiAict oouiKaic 



[fDUnmrtotim: 

itniTBP BT BIOLBT BAimiSTKB. 



t8M. 



LETTER. 



Williams College Aug. 6, 183?.| 
Rev. and Deab Sib, 

I have received and a 
tcntively read the Narrative of the late Revivals 
of Religion in the Presbytery of Geneva, drawn 
up by a Committee of Presbytery, and founded on 
reports made by the different Sessions in Februa- 
ry last. I have not before had leisure to fulfil my 
promise of sending you some remarks on that Nar- 
rative. It is a noble paper, and exhibits, in a most 
gratifying and instructive manner, the mighty pow- 
er of God. That central and elevated Presbyte- 
ry, we are told, was never visited with so great an 
influence before ; an influence extending, with two 
exceptions, to all the congregations supplied with 
pastors, and producing a result, in less than a year 
and a half, of twenty two hundred added to the 
churches ; and the woric still in glorious progress 
in several congregations when the Narrative went 
to press the last of March. 

This is enough to show that powerful revivals 
arc not dependant on the new measures, and that 
it is unjust to stigmatize as enemies to revivals all 
who do not fall in with thrac measures. 



It ifl highlj gratifying to see so large and re- 
spectable a Presbytery, centrally located in the 
I western part of New York, take so digiiiiietl a 
Irtand, witb a unanimity almost unbroken ; and still 
'Uore to see the blessed fniits of these revivals in 
l^ty or eighty youth studying for the Gospel rai- 
jnistry, and their benignant influence on the cause 
' of temperance and sabbath schools and charitable 
contributions. The church in Castleton, not yet 
four years old, and heretofore sustained by the 
Home Missionary Society, gave last year more 
than sixty dollars for foreign missions. The church 
in West Dresden, organized in 1830, an equal sum 
for the same object. The church in Galen has 
three Sabbath Schools, a Tract Society, a large 
Tauperance Society, a Bible Society which the 
last year supplied every destitute family in the 
town, and has given forty dollars for foreign mis- 
sions. The cliurch in Penn-Yan has formed " an 
auxiliary to almost every benevolent society in the 
land." The church in East Bloomfield gave the 
last year for different objects more than nine hun- 
dred dollars, and the church in Geneva more than 
forty seven hundred dollars. A society auxiliary 
to the A B C F M has just sprung up in the 
Presbytery, which has contributed at once thirty 
four hundred dollars. In view of these resulls 
every friend of revivals may kneel and look up 
and with a trickling tear thank the Author of all he- 
.jipvolence. 

. The cautious and prudent and truly evangelical 




course which this Presbytery ha»e paraaeH, is wor- 
thy of all praise. They have not adopted the opi- 
nion that some of those truths which Paul and 
Calvin and Watts and Edwards and Brainerd 
preached, must now be suppressed, or rarely 
taught, lest they should check revivals. " In all 
the services," says one, "a special prominenc« 
was given to the doctrines of the Gospel." " In 
no year," says another, " since my connexion with 
this church, have the distinguishing doctrines of 
the Gospel been so often exhibited and so much 
insisted on as during the last year ; and the divine 
blessing has evidently sanctioned this course." 
Another says of his own congregation, ** I am 
afraid that the sovereign efficacy of divine grace and 
the reason of its necessity were presented with less 
frequency and plainness than I now think should 
have been done." And yet it is testified by others 
that they were enforced there with great frequency 
and plainness. The Committee say of the whole 
Presbytery, " The doctrines which have held a 
prominent place in the preaching generally, are the 
plain and humbling doctrines of the orthodox faith. 
— These have been exhibited, not as matters of 
controversy or as problems, but as matters of fact 
and of faith. — The doctrine of divine sovereignty 
and divine decrees, the doctrine of election and ef- 
fectual calling, of regeneration by the Holy Spirit, 
— have been constantly kept in view." On the 
other hand, one of the Presbytery tells us, " The 
preaching was designed to urge upon sinners the 



duty and the reasonableness of immediate repent* 
ance and the renunciation of every eeif-juetiiying 
excuse." Another says, " The means which have 
been owned and blessed of God in promoting this 
work, have been — the exhibition of divine truth, 
enforcing the sinner's obligation immediately to 
submit to God, ke«ping constantly in view the ne- 
cessity of the Spirit's influences, and the ability 
and the obligation of the sinner to yield to them 
and to choose without delay the Lord Jesus as his 

Cod and Saviour." 
This is as it should be. Though the doctrines 
of sovereignty, election, and dependance may be 
disproportionately urged, yet I have found them, 
in the revivals of forty years, of great efficacy in 
causing the sinner to die to all hope from himself 
and casting him wholly upon God. His obli- 
gations to immediate repentance ought certainly 
to be urged with the most imperious decision ; but 
to confine the preaching to this and neglect the 
other doctrines, is to turn the whole into declama- 
tion and to encourage that destructive self*depen- 
dance which it ought to bo our constant labour to 
oppose. It is in short withholding an essential 
part of that body of truth which unitedly is *'the 
sword of the Spirit." 

That sword is divine truth addressed to the un- 
derstanding and conscience, and not mere devices 
to work on the imagination and passions. As for 
as divine truth, in all its affecting attitudes and re- 
lations, is calculated to move the passions^ let them 



1 



he moved. I would not confine myself to cold 
speculations for fear of moving the passions. Thejr 
were made to be moved by divine truth. But mere 
tricks which have no other object than to move 
the passions, and convey no light at all, are to be 
avoided as producing nothing but aii animal reli- 
gion which will fill the Church with unsanctiOed 
members, delude millions to death, and bring for- 
ward multitudes of unquatilied pastors to turn 
away the people from the truth. A preacher who 
feels authorized lo address dry bones because God 
has commanded him, and who relies for success 
on nothing but the sovereign power of God, will 
be contented to present truth, in all its nakedness 
and pungency, to tlie understanding and con- 
science, and there leave it, while ho retires to pray. 
But he who depends on no ally, — wlio feels tliat 
he most accomplish the work alone, — at least that 
motives must do the whole, — will not stop here. 
If sinners do not submit at once, he will go in 
among their passions, and seize their imagination, 
and work upon their animal spirits, by every art in 
his power, until perhaps he has driven his audi- 
ence, not to Christ, but to the wildest excesses. 
I am glad therefore to hear that in your Presbyte- 
ry, with scarcely an exception, there is no calling 
upon sinners to rise up in public assemblies, either 
to desire prayers or to proclaim their determina- 
tion to submit at once. Besides the power which 
these measures have over the imagination and pas- 
sions, (and. which by management may be indeli- 



^KiStcly increased,) they promote a boldness and for- 
^Fwardness wtiich deform religion, give an injurious 
warp to the character, (especially of yonng fe- 
males,) and greatly rncuuragc false hopes. If 
more show is made and greater numbers aro count- 

fedf it is no proof tliat more arc prepared for heaven. 
- As might have been expected, among you have 
appeared few or no disorders. " A U the services^' ' 
says one, *' have been characterized by perfect or- 
der and regularity, both as to time and manner. 
No public meetings have been continued after 9 
o'clock in the evening." '*The meetings," says 
another, *'were characterized by great stillness 
and solemnity." "No irregularities," says a 
third, " were witnessed, no crying out in public 
worship, no boisterous expressions of joy. no au- 
dible sighing or groaning." The Committee say 
of the whole Presbytery, " The religious services 
generally have been orderly, still, and solemn ; 
never interrupted by loud and boisterous expres- 
sions, either of grief or joy ; never rendered offen- 
sive to the ear of refinement by low allusions or 
coarsie and vclgar expressions, nor painful to the 
ear of piety by an irreverent and affected familiarity 
with sacred things. No quaint and questionable 
expedients have been resorted to for the purpose of 
effect ; no audible praying of females in promis- 
cuoaa assemblies." 

While passionate and disorderly revivals pro- 
duce fatal delusions without number, your Pres- 
bytery have guarded with most commendable cau- 



tion sgainst false hopes. This they have done in 
three ways. First, by substituting knowledge for 
high excitement. "Many," says one, *' whose 
hope at lirst was strong and sanguine, were, on 
being instructed in the nature and c^'idence of a 
change of heart, induced to relinquish their hope 
entirely, and have since given conclusire evidence 
that it was at 6rst buta delusion. This coorseof 
instruction and personal examination has in all 
oases been previous to their presenting themeelvc* 
for admission to the church." Secondly, by k- 
uring the subjects of the work to reserve and bu- 
mihty, instead of boldness and fonvardness and 
rashness, which serve to hurry others into s pas- 
sionate, showy, headlong delusion. Their exer- 
tions, we are told, were '> generally in a way of 
individual influence. This influence wss exerted, 
not in the public meeting, but in the prit*ate inter- 
view. The young converts did not beoome ex- 
horters, nor arrogate to themeelvcs the preroga- 
tives of teachers." Thirdly^ by holding then off 
for a coosidefable time from a professiMi. tftftM** 
of urging them forward in a week, under all the 
excitements of the recent change, the chnrehes 
bare kept them back " in most cases for two or 
dmo nwnths." I wish it had been said, for three 
■mmIn u a settled rule. 

As a consequence of all this caution, we aretoU 
by more than one, the subjects of the work we« 
wnU. 
- in tbcM matters mack depends on unng Ian- 




gtiagc according to truth Rnd calling things by their 
right names. In some places it has become com- 
mon to speak of conversions with a confidence 
which hides the deceitfulness of the heart and as- 
sumes that every apparent change is real. They 
say, Such a man was conrerted on such a day ; 
so many were converted at such a meeting. In 
this Narrative a more cautious language for the 
most part is used- I wish it had been uniform. 
In a still more important respect your language is 
highly exemplary. With you there are no anxious 
meetings or anxious rooms or anxious seats. 
This ia not a point of mere grammatical criticism ; 
it involves the honour of revivale and tlie salvation 
of men. Let a low and barbarous cant be gene- 
rally comiected with revivals, and you drive men of 
learning and taste from them and plunge them in 
perdition. This slang of anxious meetinge and the 
like, is an unwarrantable departure from the ana- 
logy of the language. In no other case do we 
denomhiate a meeting from the internal feelings of 
its members ; (we do not say a repenting meeting, 
or a believing meeting, or a rejoicing meeting;) 
nor do we name a meeting even from the outward 
marks of its members 5 (we do not say a white 
meeting, or a handsome meeting, or a homely 
meeting ;) but we take the appellation from the 
business done at tho meeting. Thus we say a 
prayer meeting, a conference meeting, a singing 
meeting, a missionary meeting. And in the pre- 
sent case we ought to say an inquiry meeting ; not 




1 Thc^ 



10 

an inquiriitg' meeting ; that is like praying meet- 
iug, conferring: meeting. We are obliged to say 
singing: meeting, because we have uo other word 
to employ. 

It is a subject of heartfelt congratulation tlial 
your distinguished Presbytery do not give up their 
(lepeiidance on God for holiness and cast tlieai- 
selvcs on an arm of ilesb. Christians, says one of 
them, *' manifested a deep sense of tlicir dcpen- 
flance and unworthineas. In the early stages of 
the work, and white the church seemed relying od 
an arm of llesli, a desire was expressed by some 
to call in the aid of some itinerant evangelist, and 
that a course of measures might be introduced 
wliich had been said to have been employed witii 
success in other places. But tlie people of God 
were soon brougiit to see and to feel that in God 
atone was their hope ; and no wish was afterwards 
expressed for any other means than the means of 
God's own appointment, nor any other aid than the 
aid of the Holy Spirit." Says anotlier, "There 
was indeed much conversation about a revival pre- 
vious to tiiis, and a solicitude was often exucc«sed 
to call in such foreign aid as some imagined would 
securethedesiredresult. Atcmeperiod tltc^ici- 
tudeon tliia subject was considerable: butin,aU:lJus 
it could be distinctly seen that there wap little or 
nothing of that deep self ahasomcnt, that humiUty 
and dqiendance upon God alone, which are ordi- 
narily the first indications of a w,ork of grace. 
They did not go directly to the throne of God, aatl 



11 

with the Psaiinist cxclaiio^ ' Wilt thou not revive 
us again that thy people may rejoice in U»ee P but 
there was manifestly an uAwarrantablo rdiaace up- 
on lui arm of flesh. It was going ' clown to Ii«gypt 
for help, staying upon horses and trusting in cha- 
riotSy' instead of k>oking ^ to the Holy One of Is- 
rael and trusting in the Lord. ' And it was not un- 
til- all expectations of this descciption were eut ofi^ 
and the church biwight to realize that all tlieir 
strength was in God^ and all theic hepe was in his 
mercy, that the work of divine gsace actually con^* 
-menced." 

- In the same q>irit the CoKiinittee say, " In aome 
instances the labour of stinerants was employed^ 
tat, (with few exceptions,) with no very obvious 
Boceeas. BeUoni perfaapen has t^ ca^e been 
kaowii inwliiek God has. so obviously honoured 
ite means o£ his ow« appointment^ i^. distinction 
from those of human invention, and the febi^ucs ol* 
a stated ministry, in distinction from those of itine- 
rant evangelists/' In ^ a fow^*^ of the churches 
the new sMaanres. wese attempted. ^^ These 
churches however were, with perhaps one excep- 
tion, without pastors, and the innovations" were 
^^ introduced by itinerant preachers who do not be- 
long to this Presbytery. But few if any of these 
innovations are now regarded as improvements ; 
and facts have shown that generally, if not univer- 
sally, the revivals have been the most powerful, of 
the longest continuance, and most desirable in their 
results, in those places where there has been the 




lea^ departure from the ordinary inctlioda oV con- 
ducting revirals in the Presbyterian Church." In 
one congregation where the new measures ware 
introduced, " since the revival tJie stale of religion 
— has been on the decline, and there is much to be 
deplored in the present state of ihiogB." 

1 fear this will be the effect of those measures 
in every place where ignorance prevails. I have 
long hesitated to express this opinion lest I slioald 
be found fighting against God. But eventa have 
fixed my judgment, and pressed me with the obli- 
gation to declare it openly, earnestly, and continu- 
ally. My daily prayer is that I may not feel un- 
charitably towards my brethren who difier from 
me. I think I do not : and certainly nothing shall 
extort from me raihng or recriminating language; 
for there is no better evidence of a bad cause than 
that it is supported by an unchristiaa and unman- 
nerly style. I am, 

Dear Sir, 
With sincere regard, 

Your friend and broth 



SeT. ANSEL D. EDDT. 



// 



A 



HAiBiB^^a^ia 



OF THE 



mS^VlVAL OF RELIGION, 



WITHIN THE BOUNDS OF THE PRESBYTERY OF 
ALBANY, IN THE YEAR 1820. 



Pt'BLlSHED BY ORDER OF THE PRESBYTERY. 



schenbotadt: 



PRINTED BT ISAAC RIGGS, 1821. 



*' 



I 



(ni ) 



.t a meeting of the Presbytery of Albauy, held i; 
Scheiiectftdy, on the Sth JuDe, 1820 : 



■ " Resolved, That the Rev. Dr. McAuley, the Rev. 

■Mark Tucker, and the Rev. Halaey A. Wood, be a 
fommtttee to receive statements from the roerabert 
of Presbytery, of the origin, progress, and present 
slate, &c. &c. of the great work of God's gracewith- 
ia their congregations, and to embody them in the 
fbrm of A narrative, together with whatever may ap- 
pear to have helped the progress, or hastened the de- 
cline of the revival." 



I 



i a meeting of the Presbytery, in Amsterdam, held 
on Iba 9th Jftdaary, IS2I : 



"Reaolved, That the Rev. Elisha Yale and the 
Rev. Walter Monteith, be a committee to prepare a 
report of the state of religion within our bounds ; and 
that said committee be added to the committee ap- 
pointed on the Sth June, 1820, for the purpose of 
drawing up a narrative of the origin, &c. &c. of the 
awakening ; and that their report be incorporated with 
the narrative of the aforesaid committee, and that the 
whole be presented to the Presbytery at its adjourned 
meeting to be held in Malta, on the 6th February 
ne.\t." 



(iv) 

At a nieetiDg of the Presbytery^ Malta^ 6th Febma* 
ry, 1821 : 

^^Thc joint comimittee appointed at the two last 
stated meetings, to draw up a narrative of the great 
work of God's grace, idclading a report of the pres- 
ent state of religion within the bounds of the presby- 
tery, presented the following narrative, which was ac-> 
cepted. 

And on motion, the said narrative was re-commit-* 
ted to the joint committee aforesaid, with the addition 
of the Rev. Dr. Nott> for revisal, and ordered to be 
printed. 



Attest, 



WALTER MONTBITH, 

Stated Clerk. 



s9^iBiE^ira^i£. 



s 



To the Rev'd Presbytery of Albany. 

THB coaiinittee, appointed ^^ to receive writ* 
teo statements from the members of presbytery, de- 
tailing tbe Origin attd Extent, Progress and Preset 
Stale of tbe great work of God's grace within your 
bounds ; together with the causes helping its progress 
or hastening its decline, and to embody them in the 
form of a regular narrative," beg leave to report, that 
tbey have attended to that duty, and that from such 
written statements as were forwarded to them ; and 
also from M^ statements made by the ministers and el* 
ders in presbytery, at Stillwater and Amsterdam; 
and also from their own knowledge of Ood's wonder- 
fiU luarkinga, within tbe proscribed bounds, they have 
drawn up the following narrative, with the accom* 
panying observations, which they most respectfully 
submit to the presbytery : 

I St. Tll£ ORIGIN AND EXTENT. 

As to the origin of this great work, your committee 
feel constrained to speak with great diffidence ; al* 
most every congregation traces it to a cause, originat** 
ing in and operative only upon itself. Sometimes it 
seems to have commenoed in two very distant places 

2 




( « ) 

at the same time ; and again in ttvo very contigtious 
places, at very different times. At one place in a Sab- 
bath school ; at another, iti a prayer meeting ; in an- 
other, at a conference or aa evening lecture, and still 
at another, in the secret exercise of prayer among 
God's children. 

'the sensible cause too, was not uniform; sometimes 
it was recounting God's wonders among other sinners ; 
sometimes urging God's children to their duty, or 
warning sinners of their danger. In one place, a sud- 
den death ; in another place a plain itnpoliished ser- 
mon. In one place, un nnaccountable impression, 
that God was about to pour out his spirit; exciting 
christians to self-examination and prayer, and to dou- 
ble diligence in the discharge of their duties ; and 
in another still, visiting from house to house, and 
warning every man of his duty and danger, and 
pressing every one to attend to the great concern of 
salvation. But as to the great, invisible, all-pervad- 
ing and operative cause, there is no diversity, twas 
God the holy spirit, operating by the gospel. There 
were indeed a very great diversity of operations, but 
the same spirit wrought all things in all. 

In August and September of 1819, there vi-as some 
attention to religion in and around the village of Sa- 
ratoga Springs : subsequent to this, the township of 
Malta was visited with the refreshing influences of 
God's grace. About the same time there were very 
encouraging symptoms of an awakening in Stillwater, 
which had been preceded by a very powerful, although 
a very short work in Pittstown-Hollow : throughout alt 
that region, every meeting was crowded, every mean 
and every effort blessed. God's people were unusu- 
ally animated in their prayers, and eacouraged and 



( 7 ) 

comforted in their approaches to God. For some 
months, the special influences ot God's spirit, seemed 
to rest only upon the region just described ; nor were 
they felt beyond, until in January and February of 
1820, when the eye of faith and the heart of aflection, 
hailed their approach and felt their influence through- 
out Amsterdam, West-Galway, East-Galway, Balls- 
ton and Schenectady; not all at once indeed, nor in 
regular succession, as to local situation, but in very 
rapid succession as to time. Union College too, was 
neither the last nor the least sharer in the influences 
of God's sovereign grace. In February, the first, 
second and fourth wards of the city of Schenectady, 
the town of Charlton and other places, were benignly 
visited. In March and April, JVJilton, Greenbush and 
Nassau, and in May the third ward of Schenectady, 
Mrere visited with overwhelming power. 

In May it began to decline, every where almost; or 
rather, it was found to have declined, excepting in the 
third ward, where it had just commenced, and from 
which it spread into Princetown in June, and where 
it is still slowly operative, as it is in several other pla- 
ces within the bounds of your presbytery. 

Since that period the church has enjoyed much of 
God's presence, and the light and consolations of his 
holy spirit. The multitudes who have been gathered 
into Christ's fold, are walking together in love, grow- 
ing in grace, in knowledge and in humility ; are pro- 
gressing in holiness, free from contention, from er- 
ror, from schism, and adorning the doctrines of God 
their Saviour by a gospel faith and practice. 

With this outline of the origin and extent of this 
great work before you, your committee have no doubt 



I 

I 



i 



( 8 ) 
of your reeling a deep interest in tbe progress of i| 
Tvbich they are about to present to you in detail 

2d HEAD PROGRESS AN'D PRESENT STATK. 

SARATOGA. 

In July or August, 1819, llie Rev. Mr. NettletOD. 
visited Saratoga Springs, for the benelit of his health. 
Shortly afler that time he visited at n house io Malta, 
where u few people were asRembled together. Aad 
if we might express our opinion we would »ay, this 
little providential meeting was the blessed means of 
comnienciog the great work of God in Malta. From 
Ihence Mr. N. passed on to tbe Springs ; but all was 
dead or dying there ; the gospel had been long 
preached there, but with very little apparent effect 
The circumstances of that place, bo peculiarly unfa- 
vourable to gospel holiness, are well known to the 
presbytery; and those circumstances were never more 
unfavourable or influential, (ban at that time. Thi« 
messenger of God bad come to prove the healing io- 
fluence of the Saratoga waters; but having bad long 
experience of the life-giving influence of Ihc leaten of 
satvaiton, he could not rest day or night, until he had 
endeavoured 6y all means to bring dying sinners to 
prove Metrefiicacy: and God was witlihim,and God'M 
anointed ser^'ant placed there, was with him in MOti- 
ment, in love and in labour. At first there were 
mme found mocking, and others saying, " what will 
this babbler say now V but God honored his own 
caiise. An invisible ngency wnso|icretivcoa many an 
heart; pride and prejudice, hatred and hardness, ig- 
norance and enmity, guilt and pollution ^Ided to its 
ia6uence. The views and feelings, hopes and fcaR 
and affections of luony wore alraost instantly changed. 
And wilh the exception of a few htfflt-frnml blas/fhc' 




( 9 ) 

mtrs, evidently left as a beacon on some hidden shoal, 
to be seen and known of all men, to warn them back 
from certain destruction; all the scoiTers and sceptics, 
infidels and unbelievers of the place were soon found 
mingling in hnmble undistinguished company with 
sinners of every other name, inquiring what they must 
do to be saved 1 In September and October the work 
was progressive, every day was fully employed by 
the people of God. The pastor of the village, and his 
helping brother, publicly and privately, and from 
house to house were engaged warning every man, 
and persuading every man, in season and out of sea-* 
SOD, exhorting, rebuking and entreating; and the 
Lord was found every where preseut! Many were 
pricked in their hearts and forced to cry out, men and 
brethren what shall we do! More than fifiy were 
brought to rejoice in the hope of eternal life through 
Jesus Christ our Lord. And although this number 
may appear but small when compared with the num- 
bers that floeked to Jesus elsewhere ; yet, let it be 
remembered, that the numbers from which they were 
gathered were very small. The permanent residents 
in the village are few, and the surrounding country 
is circumscribed and very thinly inhabited. There 
have been fifty-five added to the church ; eighteen 
adults baptized. The awakening continued until 
the commencement of the watering season in 1820, 
when it seemed to cease all at once. Some doc- 
trinal disputation in the north part of the settle- 
ment had a very inj urious effect. Sabbath schools are 
flourishing and very beneficial ; monthly concert well 
attended ; some /ho instances ff recent conversion ; 
diildren are catechised weekly ; and as a fruit of holi- 
ness in the lives of those who have named the name 



I 



I 



( 10 ) 
of Christ, we would mention a female charitable so- 
ciety, which, amongst the actsof its benevolence, has 
sent down twenty-three dollars in aid of the fuods of 
your presbytery for the education of poor, pioi^^ 
youth for the gospel ministry ! One of their aumtajH 
has departed this life triumphantly. ^^ 

MALTA. 
Your committee would next turn your attention to 
Malta, literally a moral wild. With the exception 
of a very small melhodist church in one corner of the 
town, and two or three of God's children in another 
corner, there was neither piety nor prayer, no mean 
of grace nor desire of salvation. There had indeed, 
many years before, been a small church there, but it 
was broken dowu and in ruins ; not a single member 
remained who bad any claim to right or privilege in 
it. The pride and prejudice and ambition of rule, 
that broke it down, were still in existence indeed, 
brooding over the ruins of their own producing, en- 
deavoring sedulously to raise them as a bulwark be- 
tween sinners and salvation, and rejoicing in their long 
continued success. There had been several attempts 
made to introduce the stated ministration of the gos- 
pel, but without any encouraging effect. Such was 
the state of things in the fall of the year 1819, when 
Mr. Nettleton first preached among them. There 
had been one or two hopeful conversions in August; 
and in September and October, there were a few a- 
wakened. About the beginning of October, Mr HuD' 
ter, a licentiate from the presbytery of New- York, 
visited tho place, and his preaching and other laboun 
of love were greatly blessed among them. Mr. Wa- 
terbnry and Mr. Olmsted, from the theological semi- 
nary of Princeton and Mr. Armstrong of Moreau, 



( n ) 

were all providentially led to the place, and continu- 
ed for some time to labour in their several spheres of 
action, with very encouraging success, so much so, 
that on the 26th of October, there was a little church 
collected and organized consisting of twenty-four 
members, mostly recent converts to the faith of Christ. 
Other ministers had preached occasionally in the 
place; but from the time when the church was form- 
ed, Mr. Nettleton preached for seven or eight months 
almost constantly among them, and his labour of love 
was highly rewarded by the great head of the church. 
From the very commencement of his labours, the 
work of the Lord's spirit became more powerful, and 
rapidly progressive. It was but a little while until 
weeping and anxious distress were found in almost 
every house ; the habitations of sin ; the families of 
discord ; the haunts of intemperance ; the strong holds 
of error; the retreats of pharasaic pride; the entrench- 
ments of self-righteousness, were all equally penetrat- 
ed by the power of the Holy Ghost. Foundations of 
sand sunk out of the reach of feeling and deceived 
confidence! Refuges of lies fled from the eye, and 
fancied security from the heart of the unregenerated. 
In some cases sorrow was soon turned into joy, but 
in other cases anxious distress continued long; it was 
deep, heart-felt and awfully pungent ; and brought 
the distressed almost down to the gates of death. — 
Under its influence, error lost all its alluring import- 
ance ; and violated obligation, forfeited happiness, a 
long rejected Saviour, and approaching wrath, death 
and judgment, with the retributions of eternity, filled 
every heart, occupied every thought, and agitated ev- 
ery feeling. Often and anxiously was the inquiry 
made, ^' What shall we do?" During several weeks^ 



I 



( la ) 

the awakeninff spread over different parts of the b 
until it became almost universal. Nor were the aU 
tempts tK> often and so otTentiivel^ made to draw tha 
attention to doctrinal disputation, very inHuential in 
stopping its progress. Every house exhibited the so- 
lemnity aud silence of a continued Sabbalh; so pro- 
found was this stillness and solemnity, that a recent 
death could have added nothing to it in many fami- 
lies. Common conversation was rarely engaged in. 
while every ear was open to hear the gospel, every 
heart prepared to receive the tidings of salvation. 
There were some melancholy oxceptioos indeed, but 
we Khali not name them. The breath of the Lord 
rested on their unholy inHuence, and it was wilt- 
ed and withered and gone for ever. The holy ooe 
paralyzed their efforts against his anointed, and 
scorned their opposition to the spread of Messiah's 
kingdom. Within the year there were added to the 
church more than one hundred, and there were per* 
haps fifty others who cherished a hope of forgiven sin. 
Some of those who joined the church have been se- 
verely tried ; but the trial of their faith has eventuat- 
ed in the con&rming of their hope and confideoce ih 
God. All who have named the name of Christ, are 
giving good reason to believe, that they have rested 
on the sure foundation, and gained a dwelling in the 
ark of safety. There is no tendency to error amongst 
them, but a great and growing attention to the pure 
and simple doctrines of the bible. There were fifty 
adults baptized. 

There were some special cases, clearly manifesting 
the sovereignty of God's grace and the freeness of 
his salvation. 



( 13) 

STILLWATER. 

Your committee would invite your attention, in the 
next plftce, to Stillwater, where the Lord hath dis- 
played the wonderful riches of his grace. Verily "the 
Lord's ways are not our ways, nor his thoughts our 
thoughts.'' If he smiles on the wilderness, it is in a 
moment like the garden of God. The most obdurate 
beart is '^willing," in the day of his power. 

Late in the sammer of 1819, the spirit of the Lord 
was poared out upon Pittstown-Hollow. Many, 
pricked in their hearts, were inquiring what they must 
do to be saved ? And many were fleeing to the only 
hope of the wretched, and finding in him everlast-* 
iiig security, and receiving with him joy and peace. 
We mention Pittstown in connection with Stillwa- 
ter, because it was principally through the voluntary 
labours of Love of the minister of Stillwater y that 
Ck)d's gospel became the ministration of life unto so 
many in that very destitute region, where a little 
church was soon gathered and a good many added to 
the disciples of Christ. The glad tidings of God's 
grace to the sinners of Pittstown-Hollow, had a very 
awakening inflnence on God's people in Stillwater ! 
where minister and people gave themselves to prayer, 
poUicty, privately and secretly. A concert for se- 
cret prayer was held at sunrise on Sabbath mornings, 
and very generally observed. They cried unto the 
Lord, and he hearkened and heard them, and grant- 
ed, m his own tinre, their whole desire. A deep so- 
lentnity spread over the whole community ; every 
meeting was crowded ; some were deeply impressed 
vt'Hb a sense of sin, and fully convinced of their need 
of an' interest in Christ. Sinners from a distance 
came to hear fbe gospel, and hung on the lipd of the 

3 




r 

^M preacher, as though they heard for their lives. Ani] 
^1 again did they return to listea, wilh increased atten- 
^M tioD, to the glad tidings of great joy ; peace on earth, 
^M good will towards men ! 

^1 Such was the state of things down to the bcglnoing 

^M ofOctober.wben their pastor, having attended the au- 
^m nual meeting of the Synod of Albany, which held its 
^M session at Cherry- Valley, returned home, and with an 
^H heart ovcrlloiviog, recounted to his people the won- 
^H ders of grace which God was doing in Cooperstowo, 
^B New-Hartford, Utica, &c. and noticing God's mercy 
to their neighbourly in Alalia, warned and adnioniahcd 
them of their danger and their duty. Hi» exhorta- 
tion was brought h<^nie by the holy spirit, in demon- 
stration and power. It was scaled upon every h* 
it seized upon every conscience. 

The bible class, and the Sunday schooti 
deeply affected. They felt the first iniluences of God's 
spirit. The great work commenced with them! ma- 
ny of them soon became reconciled unto God ; meet- 
ings became more frctjucnt, full, crowded! In the 
course of a few days, the spirit was poured out on sev- 
eral neighbourhoods, on families of every habit. The 
benign influence spread over into Schaghticoke, where 
at a single lecture, preached by the Pastor of Still- 
water, between thirty and forty were awakened ! And 
so did it flourish there, that in a little while almost 
that whole number were rejoicing in hope! 

lu the north part of Stillwater, where the means of 
grace were seldom enjoyed, the work of the Lord 
commenced and became very powerful. Scarcely one 
family has been passed over. In a large district, 
though harrassed by sectarian contentious, where 
praying families were very rart4y found, there is now 



m op- 

f 

wei^ 




( 15) 

scarcely one house where pnver is not wont lo bo 
made; where sacrifice, and a pure oflcring,i.s not daily 
offered up to God ! Many whole families, younj^ and 
old, every soul, were hopefully converted lo Christ. 
But, in the village ^Go&s power was most conspicuous. 
Many of the inhabitants were of the most hopeless 
kind. Boatmen, tipplers, tavern-haunters, ^mblers, 
gaiD-sayers, infidels and atheists, were mingled and 
mixed with the unholy multitude. The ways of Zion 
languished and mourned because few came to her 
solemn feasts. There were many who lived in the 
village who scarcely ever attended in the house of God, 
or in any other visible way acknowledged his supre- 
macy. They were literally stout-hearted and far from 
righteousness, without God and without hope in the 
world ; and yet, (we cannot refrain from ascribing 
glory to God in the highest,) this multitude, bad 
and anblessed as it was, felt the power of the Holy 
Ghost, and yielded to his influence, and received the 
gospel of his grace gladly, and submitted themselves 
to him whose right it is to reign, and in whom all the 
families of the earth are blessed. 

We dare not descend to particulars here. The 
narrative would fill a volume. Our limits will not 
suffer us do more than simply state, that whether the 
Lord moved among the most pure in morals and man- 
ners, or among the most polluted in heart and life; as 
soon as the eye saw that it was Ood^ the heart felt 
its own pollutions and abhorred itself in dust and ash- 
es, and trembled at the Lord's word. Fearfulness 
seized upon the hypocrite; the careless, the scoffer 
and sceptic alike were brought down to the lowestdust. 
Yon might have heard them inquiring with all the 
apprehensive anxiety of the jailer, '^raen and breth- 




I 



( le ) 

ren, whal must we do to be saveiil" and to all I 
humility of thcpubticiiii, prating, " God be uieiciru) 
to us" miserable " sinners." 

In the upper congregatioa, wberetbere bad been a 
great work of grace in 1815, there were little appear- 
ances of any awakening until late in the winter of 
1820; but the Lord's mercios were not clean gone, 
for he appeared there also in his great glory. And bd 
universally did his grace abound, (bat there reniaiiu 
not one family, in nil that coiigregatioo, where there 
is not one or more witnessing souls. The awakening 
was not confined to any one age, or sex, or class of 
character; it was general ! And to the glory of Gods 
grace be it spoken, the most profligate, generally, 
were the most prompt in their submission to God. 
The language of fact corresponds with the words 
of Christ, publicans and harlots are first in enteriog 
the kingdom of God. The converts were of all ages, 
from aeventy-five years down to twelve years ; and in 
the short space of six months, one hundred and ninety- 
four were added to the church, of whom one hundred 
and three were added in one day, and there have been 
twenty-three added since, making the whole number 
two hundred and seventefn. There were ninety-four 
adults baptized. The whole number who cfacnsfa a 
hope of forgiven sin, is considerably over three hun- 
dred, within the township; sonic of whom have joined 
other churches, and some have not gained strength 
enough to confess Christ before men in any church. 

The attention began to decline, as the spring open- 
ed with all its engaging and perplexing cares. Three 
weeks suspension of the means of grace, too, bada._ 
very deadening inilucnce. Those who have named li 
name of Christ, are walking worthy of their hi 



( 17 ) 

Uon. There has appeared only one or two cases of 
hopeless declension. At the present time appearan- 
ces are becoming more favorable. The monthly 
concert is well attended, and the church offers its 
alms with its prayers. At every concert they make a 
collection for the benefit of foreign missions. They 
have a bible society, and have recently formed b, female 
cent society y consisting of nearly three hundred mem« 
bers, who charge themselves with the entire education 
of one poor, pious young man for the go$pel ministry. 
The biUe class and Sabbath schools are well attended. 

There is no tendency among the young converts to 
error, but a remarkable progress in bible knowledge 
aod practical piety. 

MILTON. 

In Milton there was some attention in the spring of 
the past year ; but the world gained the ascendency. 
Their minister was obliged to leave them, a little while 
previous to the appearance of the religious attention , 
for want of subsistence. How far this operated unfa- 
vourably, the Lord knoweth. You r com mittee would 
only notice, that Milton, although almost surrounded 
by the awakening, from its origin until its end, scarce- 
ly counts twenty converts ; and it is believed few of 
these were awakened there. 

At present all is cold and lifeless there. 

BALL8T0N. 

Of Ballston, your committee need say but little, as 
tibere has been a report published, which has put you 
in possession of all the important facts relating to the 
origin, progress and present state of the awakening 
in that place. Nor would they deem it expedient to 
make any report at all, were it not for the sake of 
connection. 



I 



( 18 ) 
The work of grace does not appear to have ( 
aienced in Ballston , until after it had begun to decline 
in Saratoga, and had nearly gained its height in Mal- 
ta and Stillwater. At that time the people were very 
generallycoldand earless, and were notfree from seri- 
ous apprehensions that they would be unable to retain 
their minister. But the Lord had mercy in store for 
them. The good news from Malta, Saratoga and Still- 
water, seemed to arouse some among them. Minister 
and Session, in free conversation, candidly confessed to 
each othertheir consciousness of many defects in the 
discharge of their several duties, They confessed and 
mourned over these in the presence of God, and en- 
tered into new cngngcments to be more faithful iu 
future. They districted the congregation, and resol- 
ved to visit every house. They called together the 
church members, and conversed freely with them on 
the state of their hearts. They agreed to avoid all 
doctrinal disputation and to attend totheirown hearts, 
and so to let their light shine, that others seeing it, 
might be led to glorify their heavenly father. This was 
about the beginning of January, 1820. Just about this 
time or a little previous to this, several of the session 
and others, attended the communion in Malta, and 
various other meetings in succession. Their hearts 
were greatly refreshed. They caught the holy flame 
of divine love, and returned home making the solemn 
inquiry, What do we here all the day idle? Tbey 
commenced the work of domestic visits and personal 
conversation ; and to their utter surprize, found the 
spirit of the Lord working every where before them. 
They urged sinners to pray, and sinners complied! 
And while they were yet praying, the Lord heard 
them, and many an heart of hardness was broken 



( 19) 

and melted and removed! The heart of rebellious 
stoutness submitted! The heart of unbelief yield- 
ed ! and while repentance melted down the most ob- 
stinate, they were led by the right hand of God's right- 
eousness, to trust in the mercy of God and rest for ac- 
ceptance and salvation on the righteousness of Jesus 
Christ. Some entire house-holds were converted to 
God. Five children out of one family were born 
again. Convictions were deep, powerful and pun- 
gent, generally of short continuance when compared 
with those in other places. In eight months one hun- 
dred and sixty were added to the church; perhaps 
forty others cherished a hope in Christ. Sectarian 
folly, was evidently injurious to the awakening. We 
*^ know that offences must come," '^ but wo to" every 
one ^'by whom they come." Those who have been 
admitted to the fellowship of the church, are dwelling 
together in unity, cherishing a spirit of gospel peace. 
There has only one case of hopeless backsliding oc- 
curred. No tendency to error visible amongst them. 
Sabbath schools are greatly blessed ; monthly concerts 
well attended ; bible class making a very encourag- 
ing progress ; the young converts evidently learn fas- 
ter than before they became pious. There were sev- 
enty-six adults baptized. 

Of the happy results of this awakening, we have 
to notice, that a female member of this church was 
led, in the dispensations of Divine Providence, to take 
charge of a female academy in South-Carolina. The 
young ladies under her care were of all ages, from 
eight to eighteen. On the Sabbath day she confined 
their attention to the BMe and Baxter's Saints Rest, 
and has had the unspeakable satisfaction of seeing 




t 

■ ( 20 ) 

^P twelve of ber pupils brought to rejoice Ja Jesus, 

their only Redeemer, and that too in one sinj 

week. 

■ CHARLTON. 

Your committee would further report, that there 
appears to have been a very general attention to re- 
ligion in Charlton ; especially among; the young. — 
The work seems to have been a slow, progressive 
opening of the heart, to receive divine truth ; and a 
powerful influencing of conscience to obey the truth. 
And although the work was not so rapid in its pro- 
gress, nor powerful in its operations, at any lirae, as 
to entitle it to the name of an awakening ; yet it was 
sufficiently so, to denominate it a time of refrething 
from the presence of the Lord. It was encnnibered 
with many embarrassments ; but the Lord did not 
suddenly take away his holy spirit. CoDference and 
prayer-meetings were instituted and continued, gener- 
ally well attended and greatly blessed. Anxious meet- 
ings too, were productive of very extensive blessings. 
There were eighty-four members added to the church 
daring the past year; and God has granted a pastor to 
that people, and every thing is now very encoaragiog 
among them. No schism, no error, no cases of back- 
sliding. The hopes of God's people are greatly ele- 
vated. The Ijord's name be for ever praised. There 
were eighteen adults baptized during the year. 

IEAST-GALWAY. 
Your committee would nest present £!ast-Galwty 
to the notice of presbytery ; a place this, highly favor- 
ed of the Lord ! Visited once and again, with an oot- 
poaring of his spirit. Your committee feel Ibew- 
selves again met, and relieved from the labor of a 
lengthy report, by a very excellent statement, publish- 




(21 ) 

ed some time ago, by a member of the session of thai 
church. But still, for the sake of connection, they will 
take a cursory view of the awakening there. The 
church had been destitute of a pastor for three years ; 
its members were greatly diuiinished in number, cold, 
stupid and discouraged. They were in this state in 
the fall of 1819, when. Mr. Chester, a licentiate under 
your care, commenced his labours among them. His 
labours were greatly blessed, in establishing Sabbath 
schools and reviving the attention of professing chris- 
tians. But his health failing, he was obliged to iu« 
termit his labours, until the beginning of May, after 
which be became their stated pastor. The session 
districted the congregation and visited every member. 
On the first Sabbath in March, 1820, the Rev. Dr. 
Nott administered the communion of the Lord's sup* 
per* About a week previous to which, there appear- 
ed an vnusaal attention to bjble reading, in a school, 
pear tba centre of the town, particularly among the 
female scholars. On the Friday of that week, seve-* 
ral of the scholars were borne down with a sense of 
tbeir sin. The school was visited ; and on one side 
where the females sat, many were weeping for their 
sJQ, while on the other side, some were disposed to 
mock; but in a little while they also gave up their 
oppOfitipQ, and were melted down. This was not 
QC^sed abroad, lest opposers should say, that the chilf 
4r^n were frightened ! On the Sabbath, seven came 
forward and confessed their faith in Christ Jesus be- 
fort the world ; and on that day many were deeply 
COQviqted of sin. On Monday the attention in the 
school was increased, and the monthly concert in the 
evening was crowded. At the regular conference on 

4 



( 22 ) 

Tuesday evening, from twenty to thirty were s 
tressed, that they could not leave their seats. Some 
sFoDt-hearted young men were found wnngiDg their 
hands, in the greatest agony, and asking what they 
sliould do to be saved '? The next day ntore than forty 
were found to be under deep and powerful convic- 
tions! Conference rooms soon became too small. The 
church was soon crowded to overflowing. And al- 
though the number was so great, there was an awful 
silence, a stillness in which the breath of a child might 
have been heard. The mouths of jrainsayers were 
soon stopped; and even infidels were constrained to 
acknowledge the power of God. There was no set- 
tled minister there, nor even a transient one ; and with 
the exception of seven or eight Sabbaths, in which 
the Rev. Dr. Nott preached, there was no means us- 
ed, excepting the little that the session and some stu- 
dents from the college at Schenectady, were able to 
do, in visiting and in meeting with the anxious. The 
preaching alluded to, was greatly blessed; it was ac- 
companied with the demonstration of the holy spirit 
and with power. And the church in that place will 
long remember, this labour of love, this ministration 
of grace; so seasonable, so salutary, so saving! Ma- 
ny whole families were converted to God. From 
8ome families seven, from others six, and from others 
five, were brought to rejoice in hope of forgiven sin. 
Id all the wonderful work of God's spirit, through this 
community, we have witnessed nothing equal to His 
work in this place ; either in the pungency of ccmvic- 
tions, or shortness of their duration. In a few weeks. 
more than two hundred and fifty of every age, &om 
eighty-two down to ten years, were rejoicing io hope ; 
of whom one hundred and sixty were added ta tbe 



(23) 

church. Several others to the highly respectable 
Baptist churches in the town, and some to the Metho- 
dist church; but your committee are not able to state 
the precise number. It was altogether the Lord's do- 
ings, and marvellous in our eyes ! 

There are none who seem to have apostatized. — 
They are all, holding on their way, very lively in their 
affections, animated in their hopes, consistent in their 
christian walk, growing in gospel grace, stedfast in 
doctrine, and abounding in deeds of charity. They 
charge themselves with the entire expense of the edu- 
cation of one young mauj and half the expense of the 
education of another for the gospel ministry. 

There are two bible classes, well attended; and 
several Sabbath schools, in a very flourishing condi- 
tion. Catechetical exercises are well attended and 
greatly blessed. The elders visit frequently from 
house to house, and talk freely with every professor, 
on the subject of personal religion and growth in 
grace. 

There have been fifty-seven adults baptized. 

WB8T-GALWAY. 

Your committee have not been put in possesion of 
the history of the awakening in West-Galway. Mr. 
Farrer, the minister of that congregation, was in ill- 
health, during the latter part of that glorious display 
of God's power to save. He now sleeps in Jesns ! 

All that your committee can state, with confidence, 
is, that the awakening commenced and progressed in 
a manner very similar to that in East-Galway ; or ra- 
ther, was identified with it. There were ninety-five 
added to the church. Several others are cherishing a 
hope of eternal life. Sabbath schools and monthly 
concerts are well attended. Only one instance of 



«>jM 



(24 ) 

backsliding. No doctrinal diflicullics. They hl^ 
received the gospel of God, withoat any doubtful d\s- 
jiutalions. 

There were twenty-eight ndidts baptized. 
BDISBURGH. 

There has been no special atlenlron at EctinbUI|^ 
during the last year, and there were ouly two added 
to the church. 

PALATINR. 

In this newly formed rhiirch, there has been no re- 
vival, but there are two Sabbath schools. The moth- 
ly concert is observed. The church is very small 
and weak. 

JOHNSTOWN. 

From Johnstown, that old and very respectable cor- 
ner of God's vineyard, your committee have no heart 
cheering intelligence to communicate. A little dibi^ 
from heaven above, seems to descend upon it. JMH 
enough to keep it from total sterility ! But the Bttttf^ 
and latter rains are withheld : no refreshing shower, 
causes it to bud and blossom nnd bring forth fruit. 
There have been only twelve added during the pa*t 
year, to the communion of the church. There is much 
of the exterior of godliness among the people; *lid 
we trust a good deal of its power among old t 
Bors; but very few are enquiring the way to 1 
The means of grace are well attended. Love \ 
harmony prev.iil in the church. There arc b%le t 
ses in seven different districts, attended weekly, 
evident good effect. Ministerial visitations, catcclic- 
tical exercises, monthly concerts, are nil punctually 
and Well attended. Surely they are a people prepar- 
ed for the Lord. O ! for a linie of refreshing from 
his presence among them! - ■ ■ 



( 25) 

AMSTERDAM. 

The church in Amsterdam dates Ihe commente- 
fiient of its revival, from the first of March, 1820 ; but 
there were very interesting symptoms of it, previouB 
to that date. Christians had been awakened; had 
trimmed their lamps; a spirit of prayer had been 
poured out upon them ; vice of every kind had be- 
come more bold and openly daring ; profligates more 
than usually hardened in sin, and working iniquity 
with imcommon greediness, putting heaven's pow- 
nr and Qod's aboonding grace to the proof! And in 
additioD to all this, a few had been brought to Jesua^ 
by means which seemed very inadequate. These 
were sore indications, that God was, in very deed, in 
that place. 

Bat ftom the first of March, the work assumed a 
very decided character. Several neighbourhoods, in 
die township, were awakened at once. Cries for help, 
•omne from every quarter ; and minister and iiession, 
vooti found themselves in the very midst of God^ 
wonderful workings ! Their meetings, of every soroey 
were fiill, were crowded. The whole of every day in the 
ira^k, and as much of the Sabbath as remained softer 
the pvbKc services in God's house were over, was odk- 
^dyed, in visiting from house to house. The evenings 
'Were spent in conference, or prayer or anxious meet- 
ings. And although many who attended these meet- 
"h^, were often heard, when at home, in their fkmi- 
-lies, in tlieir fields and in their secret retirements, to 
gitmn out in agony, or to cry out aloud in the anguish 
of heart! when pierced with the sword, or broken 
down under the influences of the spirit ; yet, in these 
meetings, there was no noise, no confusion, no disor- 
der! Sometimes, indeed, the prayer for mercy was 



( 26) 
forced from the broken heart in a heavy w1 
a sttfted, agonizing groan. Sometimes tot 
ful struggle within was rendered visible, in the palsi- 
ed frame,or writhing hands, or other syroptoms of spi- 
ritual distress, deeply atfccting all around; but noth- 
ing like rant, or confusion, or enthusiasm! Instead of 
this, an awe ! a stillness ! an oppressive silence, which 
cannot be described, pervaded the whole, and often 
rendered it difficult to breathe. It was the sinking of 
the wounded heart! the fainting which precedes the 
last agony of life. The hearts of rebellion had re- 
ceived their mortal wounds, and were yielding be- 
neath the power of God ! Many who visited these 
meetings from motives of curiosity, totally careteBS ! 
beholding the mighty power of God, were terriiied at 
their own hard and impenitent hearts ; convicted of 
sin ; awakened to a sense of the misery of their state, 
the madness and folly of their present course, and for- 
ced to inquire also, what they must do to be saved. 
On one evening, set apart for lecture, and personal 
conversation, fifteen were powerfully awakened. 

There was no ditHculty ia assembling the people 
but often, very great diSicnlty in separating and get* 
ting them to return home. Sometimes, sleigh loads 
of convinced sinners, after leaving the meeting, and 
riding half a mile, or a mile, homewards, would turn 
back again to the place of prayer, to hear still more 
about the salvation of Jesus ! And they often did this 
too, through lanes and ways and snows, that would 
have been deemed by persons in any other state of 
mind, to have been impassible. The awakening in 
Amsterdam had one very prominent feature, some- 
what peculiar to itself, and which we deem wor- 
thy of notice : sinners were generally, very suddenly 



(27) 

and alarmingly aroused ; their convictions suddenly 
raised to the highest ; extremely painful in their ope« 
rations, and yet protracted beyond any thing witness- 
ed in other places. Your committee would not dare 
to decide, whether this was owing to the constitution- 
al habits of the subjects of the work, or whether it was 
exclusively owing to the sovereign working of the 
great God, who works as he pleases, and baffles the 
feebleness of human reason. 

The truths which bore most heavily on the minds 
of sinners, in this awakening, were the awful deprav- 
ity of the heart, so manifest in its unreasonable and 
continued rebellion against God. Their own person- 
al guilt, and pollution ; their evident danger of eter- 
nal death. Every one thought his own heart the 
worst, and his own case peculiarly aggravated. 

Generally the first dawning of comfort, in the soul, 
has been through the application of precious bible 
truth, while reading the bible, or hearing it explain- 
ed, or while in the act of secret prayer. The reality 
of the change, which so many profess to have expe- 
rienced, becomes every day more visible, by the love 
and unity, and growing holiness, and increasing light, 
and gospel knowledge of those who have named the 
name of Christ. 

Thus far, there have been no instances of back- 
sliding, or apostacy. Every one who has turned to- 
ward Zion, is still progressing. In this, your com- 
mittee recognize a clear evidence that the work is the 
Lord's ! wrought by the power of the Holy Ghost ! In 
this there is a proof of the out-pouring of God's spi- 
rit, which neither the enemies of God, or of revivals, 
can refute. Persons of every shade of colour, and 




■^ (28 ) 

^P character, have become subjects of this great wol 
and are made one in Christ Jesus. 

One hundred and sixty-three have professed the 
name of Christ, and been added to the church ; for- 
ty-two of whom were baptized. A few have been 
connected with other churches, and there are, perhaps 
nearly fifty, who cherish a hope that they are new 
creatures ; v^^i have not ventured to make a public 
profession, but are still praying, and looking, and 
waiting, for more satisfactory evidence of the certain- 
ty of their change. 

The general excitement has subsided ; but still 
there are frequent cases of conviction occuriug-. God 
is yet in that place ; they feel his influence! they ac- 
knowledge his power ! They look and pray for ano- 
ther glorious display of his powerful working. Meet- 
ings are well attended ; monthly concerts, and bible 
classes, signally useful. Liberality increasing ; their 
faith is productive of gospel good works. 

PRINCETOWN Sf DUANESBURGH. 
The Lord has visited, in his mercy, this neighb 
hood, and poured out of his spirit upon it. Manya 
deeply convicted of sin ; some are rejoicing ia hope. 
About thirty have been added to the church. Gain- 
sayers are closing their lips of folly, and silting doWKH 
in silence. God's dear people are encouraged to say^ 
" This is our God! we have waited for him, and 1 
will save us! This is the Lord, we have waited for 
him, we will be glad and rejoice in his salvatioo; for 
in this mountain, shall the hand of the Liord reat." 
NEW-SCOTLAND. 
Your committee have nothingto report from New 
Scotland ; but much to mourn over, because tbert b 
so little of the spirit or power of religion there. 



B. ^ 

hboul^H 
tnyatf^B 

ope. 
ain- 
DWKH 

:M 

Ifer 
; br 

ME a ' 



(29) 

E6PERANGE, BOWMAN'S CREEK, BERN, 
HAMILTON-UNION ^^ WESTERLO. 
In these five churches there is little to claim your 
notice, except coldness and deadness. In Bowman's 
creek, there is a little excitement, and some favoura- 
ble symptoms in Westerlo ; but no general attention. 
O that the Lord would no longer leave these parts of 
his vineyard, to receive his grace in vain! There have 
been a few added to some of these churches during the 
year, and to others of them, none at all ! 

CARLISLE. 
In the church of Carlisle, every thing seems well. 
The pastor of that little flock returned, last Sieptember, 
from the meeting of the Synod at Brownville. His 
heart animated and enlarged; and fully resolved to 
give himself wholly to the labour of the Lord's vine- 
yard ; and the Lord has blessed his labours already. 
Very recently he has beheld ten in one family connex- 
ion awakened; and two of them cherishing an hope of 
forgiven sin. The attention is becoming more gene- 
ral; prayer meetings more numerous; bible classes 
well attended ; Sabbath schools very useful. He hag 
admitted seventeen to the church, during the past 
year. 

1st. & 2d. CHURCH— ALBANY. 
In this ancient corner of the Lord's vineyard, there 
have been much care and culture. It has been prun- 
ed, and hedged, and watched, and watered with much 
praiseworthy pains ; but alas it brings forth very little 
frait; '^a cluster or two on the tops of the youngest 
boQghs." There have been thirty-seven added to the 
first church, and twenty-eight to the second church, 
daring the last year. 

o 



(30 ) 

There is uo part of IIk church com milled t 
care, that needs bo imich your prayers, or sh( 
much excite your sympathies, as Ibe two churches in 
Albany! Let il be a distinct and never to be forgot- 
ten article in every prayer, that the Lord would re- 
turn and visit that place, and make it a praise in the 
earth ! ^_ 

SCHENECTADY <.^ UNION COLLEGE.^ 
Your couMuitlec would invite your allciitiou, in t^H 
last place, lo the cily of Schenectady, and Ciiioa 
College, situated there. Li Uic third week of Janua- 
ry, 1820, there was a very sudden death in the Col- 
lege. A member of ihe Senior class, in the full vigor 
of life, was suddenly removed. The alarm was very 
great ; the call was loud , and sensibly heard and felt. 
There were prayer- meetings held around the bier, 
which was placed in an officer's room. There, for 
two days, did the stuilcnts resort, from feelings of sor- 
rowing sympathy ; and there, was the question often 
proposed, " Suppose this call of God had been direct- 
ed to you, were you ready to obey it?'" The negatiu- 
answer, was often carried back to the heart, by 
the holy spirit, and rendered productive of genu- 
ine convictions. Many, indeed, thought it was all 
fright! and would soon pass over. But the Lord's 
ways are not the ways of man, no, not of the most 
sanctified of men! .'/ nine days wonder ! was the com- 
mon name given to the students' an:(ious distress. 
But nine days only augmented their misery, multi- 
plied their convictions, and deepened their distress. 
The fright ! if svch it must be called, became more 
general. There was indeed a fright, a fear of death! 
be it remembered, it was fear of death eternal ! 




There was a strong desire of life, but it was life eter- 



(31 ) 

nal ! There were many on the Lord's sidcj who believ- 
ing that the spirit of the Lord was among us in his 
mighty operations, held prayer-meelings, and meet^ 
iDgs for conference and [lersonal address. Anxious 
meetings too, were often held. The sinners' danger 
and the sinners' duty, were often and closely pressed; 
and some, at last, began to rejoice, not that they had 
escaped an early grave, no ! but that they had ob- 
tained an interest in him, who is the resurrection and 
the life ; that they had received the Lord's Christy 
and became the sons of God, through faith in his 
name. So powerful and rapid was this great work of 
God's grace, that in the third week of February, ele^ 
ven^ and in the first week of April between thirty and 
forty were rejoicing in hope of forgiven sin ! During 
the time of the awakening, it was discovered, that a 
few of those, under exercises of mind, had been so for 
a long time, but had concealed it, in their own hearts, 
until it became a common subject. Of all these, there 
is but ime who seems to have been a self-deceiver, 
and to have deceived others. The rest are giving 
good reason to believe, that their change was a real 
change. Seventeen joined themselves to the presby- 
terian church, six or seven to the Dutch church, and 
six or seven to the episcopal church ; and there are a 
few who have not yet joined themselves to any church. 
Several, who have been admitted to the first degree in 
the arts, have devoted themselves to the gospel minis- 
try. The effect on college was visible and salutary. 
There seldom was a session of so much order, tranquil- 
ity and industry. The subjects of the work, gener- 
ally, acted on the principle, that they could not be 
fervent in spirit unless they were diligent in their bu- 
siness. 



I 



( -.a ) 

From tbe college, the awakentut/ sprewd down itj 
the cilv. And in February became \ei\ interesting'. 
Its first nppearaucea were among the few prft^riog peo- 
ple, the females cspcciallv, who mot weekly to pray. 
Their hearts were drawn out to God, most entirely 
and ardently. A few evening lectnres, at private 
houses, were blessed greatly. Many date ibeir con- 
victions from those meetings. The numbers began 
rapidly to increase. A private house would not hold 
the people. The academy room sufficed only for a 
few weeks ; and, before it was yet believed that the 
spirit of the Loni was moving on the hearts of sinnern, 
the presbyterian church was scarcely larye enough to 
accommodate the Wednesday evening lectnre. Tbu 
church was destitute of a slated pttstor, and help was 
obtained as it was found most practicable. The Lord 
was their great help ! Lectures were very much crow- 
ded; conference meetings, and meetings for prayer, 
and meetings for anxious sinners, were full, and sol- 
emn, and greatly blessed, Young and old, moral and 
profane, felt the benign influence. It was not con- 
fined to any one denoniinatiou ; and be it remember- 
ed, to the glory of God's grace, \halngn'at tinity of 
feeling and action, pervaded the whole. There were 
scarcely any -sectarian feelings, or divided views inao- 
ifcstcd, until the close of the whole work. It was a 
very silent, solemn, heart-felt operation ; ^low ia pro- 
gress, but blessed in result. Nearly three hundred, 
we trust, were hopefully converted to God. Of these. 
one hundred and forty-six were added to the presb>t«- 
rianchurch.abont eleven or twelve to the episcopalian, 
about one hundred and fifteen to the Dutch, and a 
Considerable number to the metbodist church, whoare 
generally holding on Iheir way rejoicing. There lui 



( 83) 

not one case of hopeless declension occurred in the 
presbyterian church. Three of the young converts 
have died ! one very Iranquil, and two very trium^ 
phant. The awakening had to encounter great op-^ 
position, obstinacy and prejudice, slander and igno- 
rance, suspicions and formality ! Yet, still, the Lord's 
work prospered ; and many were added every week 
to those who rejoiced in God, and had hope in Christ. 
There were twenty-nine adults baptized. 

From Schenectady, as a centre, the work spread 
into the adjoining country. In a little region, about 
three miles west of the compact part of the city, the 
awakening broke out in May ; and out of a population 
not exceeding one hundred and fifty, there were thir- 
ty-two hopefully converted to God in four weeks; but 
a little proselyting feeling killed the whole in a few 
days. The cotton factory t^b»^ about one mile south . 7# 
of the city, was blessed with a divine influence ; twelve ^ 
or fifteen were brought to rejoice in God there. In 
Watervliet too, from twenty to thirty rejoice in hope, 
and many others were deeply impressed ; but a vital 
opposition to the work of grace there, was permitted 
to quench the spirit, and the work ceased in a single 
week. There are many, who, putting profession for 
Diety, and sanctification for regeneration; the word 
and ordinances, for the power of God's holy spirit; 
virluaUy deny the doctrine of the new birth, and op- 
poie, with all the obstinacy of ignorance, the gracious 
operations of the Holy Ghost ; not knowing what they 
do. 

In the city there are some who are still seeking the 
way to Zion, sorrowing ; and some who cherish a 
recent hope. A few recent convictions, but no gene- 
ral excitement. 







r( 3-1 ) 
Your committee would observe, as one of the § 
elfecU of this awakening, that tbo news of God's wou- 
derful woi'liings in Schenectady, was made a very 
powerful mean in promoting the awalienlog la Urecn- 
bush; where, they understand that about one hoi 
dred have been brought savingly to Christ. Thai 
have also, under the ministry of Mr. Nettlctoo, be^ 
a great work in Nassau, where about one hundred 
have been hopefully brought to repeutance in a few 
weeks. .^^ 

Such has been the progress, and such is the preseoH 

■ ittate of the awakening within your bounds, and such " 
is the state of all the churches under your care; so 
far as your committee have been able to ascertain, 
from the sources to which they have had access. 

There are twenty-four churches under your care; 
and the spirit of the I^ord has been poured out upon 
twelve of these, and upon the Catlei/e. The additions 
to the churches, during the year 1820, as reported to 
presbytery, amount to nearly one thousand four hun- 
dred! Of these there have been three hundred and 
twenty-four adults baptized! Surely "the Lord hatfe 

I done great things for us, whereof we are glad.'' 
3d HEAD THE CAUSES HELPING THE PROGRESS i 
OF THE AWAKENING. 
Your committee fee! disposed to detain you only a 
very little while, on this part of their report. But 
still, any tolerable degree of fidelity, will necessarily 
lead them into cousiderable detail. The first of the 
helping causes Ihey would preseut to your notice, was 
family visitation. By this they mean, visiting a fami- 
ly for the e.vprcss purpose of religious inquiry ; in or- 
der to ascertain the religious state of the heads of the 
family, and the religious attainments of every member-, 



anu 
ba^ 

'9 




(35) 

the amount of their bible knowledge, and the manner 
in which they perform their religious duties : whether 
ornot they are seeking God, and by all means press- 
ing them to the right performance of their acknowl- 
edged duties. Another mode of visiting, which was 
found very advantageous among the different sections 
of a family, or of several contiguous families^ was, at an 
appointed hour, to have a company of as many as could 
conveniently be gotten together, of one sex, absent from 
the observation of others, from the noise of their fam- 
ilies, and the perplexities of the world : not admitting 
professors of religion ; entering into no worldly conver- 
sation ; no perplexing inquiries ; no doctrinal disputes, 
but only into the great concern of salvation, in a man- 
ner adapted to the capacities and attainments of those 
present. And when every heart became solemn, and 
every attention fixed, then falling prostrate before 
God, the hearer of prayer, and praying to the point ; 
nor afterwards entering into any worldly chat, but 
going thence, thinking and praying. These visits 
were sometimes made to male heads of families ; some- 
times to the female heads; sometimes to young men, 
or young women ; sometimes to people of colour, 
which gave an unembarrassed opportunity of suiting 
an address to the persons present. This mode had 
many great advantages, and was found eminently 
useful. 

The second cause j was, personal application to ev- 
ery one ; pressing the sinner's conscience and encou- 
raging his speedy return, to him from whom he had 
revolted. And repeatedly pressing this subject, by 
all the motives of time and eternity. 

The third caiuse was, religious intelligence. Tell- 
ing them what God was doing for sinners in other 



I 



I 



I 



( a« ) 

places. Telling them what he bad done for our o 
souU, having had coi»pa58ion on us. 

The/ourlk cause was, frequent meetings for confer- 
ence, or lecture, or prajer. And through all this 
awakening, so far as we know an; thing of the mat- 
ter, either from our own experience aad observatioo, 
or from the account given by the subjects of the awa- 
kening, there have been a great maay awakened at 
these extra meetings. 

The //flh cause was, anxious meetings. These were 
meetings which sprung up out of the circumstances of 
the case. It was found, in many places, impossible 
to visit for confidential conversation, so many and 
so often as circumstances required. Nor was it pos- 
sible to devote as much time, to serious inquirers, who 
might call on their minister, as they should wish, or 
really needed. And besides all this, it became so 
uncertain when ministers could be found at home, 
they were so often sent for to visit distressed persons, 
that it was on the whole thought best, to appoint s 
special hour, in some retired place, where no eye but 
God's could see them, and no ear but his could hear; 
and devote that time to prayer, suited to the occasion 
and the cases of those present ; and to hold conversa- 
tion with each individual on the state of their hearts. 
This was generally done in a low whisper, with each 
individual, while the others were left to their silent 
and solemn reflections. After holding couversatioa 
with the whole, individually; the meeting was closed 
by addressing some suitable exhortation to the whole, 
and again joining in prayer. Sometimes these me#t- 
ings have been called conversation meetings; some- 
times meetings of anxious inquiry; but generally the 
name of anxiovs meeting has prevailed, because the 




(37) 

sole object and design was, to direct the anxious in- 
quirer in the way to Zion ; to resolve the doubts, to 
strengthen the resolutions, to remove the ignorance 
or the error, to point out the dangers and difficulties of 
the anxious soul. And above all, the helping causes 
of the awakening, your conunittce would place these 
meetings, when rightly conducted, in the first place; 
nor is there any means used, against which the grand 
adversary strives, with such unwearied effort. Strong 
proof this, that he fears their influence. Your com- 
mittee have known many, who went to these meetings, 
merely from a motive of curiosity, and who lefl them 
burdened with a sense of sin, weeping as they went. 

The sixth cause was, avoiding all controversy — a&- 
solutely refusing to touch it. From a full conviction, 
that the first duties of a returning sinner were repent- 
ance towards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. 
And in close connection with this, keeping all, as 
much as possible, clear of sectarian feeling ; of party 
spirit; of proselyting conduct, endeavouring to make 
all feel and understand, that the shibboleth of any par- 
ty, would prove a poor substitute for a change of heart! 
That an admission to any church, could not procure 
a dispensation from the necessity of the new-birthy or 
an interest in Christ. 

The seventh cause was, plain gospel preaching. By 
which we mean to be understood, an exhibition of the 
gospel, in its plain, obvious, unsophisticated meaning. 
Neither veiling its glories under the covering of meta- 
physics, nor concealing its common sense, under scho- 
lastic dogmas. Neither polishing down its honest 
bluntness of expression, nor softening the rigours of 
jts precepts or threatenings ; nor holding back its en- 

6 



I 



( ^ ) 

couragemeDts, invitations and pmrnises; but honesi 
and always declaring the whole council ofGod, as we 
find it in the scriptures; as the power of God unto 
salvation, to every one that believeth. Thus preach- 
ing it in season niid out of season, publicly and pri- 
vately and from house to house, and from heart to 
heart ; exhorting, persuading and entreating, by every 
motive inlluential on man. Giving to this preaching 
all the force of the preacher's head and heart, affec- 
tions and conscience; all the moral and muscular 
manhood of his nature; in the church, the lecture 
room, the conference and prayer meeting; the do- 
mestic visit and confidential interview, under the 
full impression, that every hour souls are sinking down 
into hell, for whom the messengers of God's mercy 
have to render an awful account. Your committee 
have often witnessed the practical profit too, of giving 
that strength to the preaching of your sermons, which 
is often consumed on the polish, the finish of one. — 
And been fully convinced, that nothing more or less 
than God's gospel, under the inthieoces of God's spi- 
rit, can convert the soul, can save the sinner; 
that he who brings this gospel home to the heart a 
conscience in the plainest, purest form, preaches t 
vation best; preaching the gospel too in the order ^ 
the gospel, and in the words of the gospel; 
sweetness and its severity too, and in all the decisi 
and conclusiveness of its logic; putting its blessing 
and its curse side by side, and bringing them hooest- 
ly home to the sinner's heart. However unpalatable 
to the unregenerate, however contrary to carnal poli- 
cy, it was the manner constantly pursued. Doctrine 
was never separated from duty, nor the sinner eocoa* 
raged until he had submitted to Christ. 



(39) - 

The eighth cause was, singing of Hymns and 
Psalms, storing the memory and heart wilh them. 

And lastiy^ Bible reading, and prayer above all 
things. God's word gives light, makes the simple 
^nse and converts the soul. God hears and answers 
prayer. 

Your committee would not be understood to say, 
tliat God cannot work without means ; but, that ho 
does greatly bless his own means, for the conviction 
and conversion of sinners ; and they are willing to be 
nnderstood as saying, that he did bless the means em- 
ployed during this awakening, beyond any thing they 
ever witnessed before. 

4th H£AI>— ^HE CAUSES HASTENING ITS DECLINE. 

1st. Interrupting thestated means. Your committee 
have known a few weeks suspension of the preached 
word, have such a bad effect, that months of hard la- 
bour, were not sufficient to bring things back to their 
former situation. 

2d. Ceasing to press sinners on the great doctrines 
^ faith and repentance. Sinners in a state of excite- 
ment must be followed up, the begetting sin at such 
a time is, endeavouring to get clear of their convic- 
tions. They must not be let alone ! 

8d. Doctrinal disputation^ or theoretical discussion ; 
any thing that had a tendency to turn the sinner's at- 
tention from the state of his heart, was exceedingly 
injarious. And the more important the thing was in 
its nature, and the nearer allied to religion, the great- 
er influence did it have, and the greater advantage 

did the adversary take of it. 

4th. Badly conducted meetings^ have been found 

to discourage many, and to originate another cause 

of great injury. 




I 

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( -10 ) 

5lh. ReporUiig ihat the awakeutny was ot 
ChristUns then intermitted all their exertions, be- 
cause they thought them iisdoss; nnxious sinners fell 
that it was then too late, and they either bunk down 
in a desponding; state, or gave up all thoughts of the 
subject. 

6tli. Catmint/ ihe fears <if awakened sinners, hy tel- 
ling them that all would now be well with them, if 
Ihey only held on ! And O how weak and wicked was 
this delusion! and fur that very reason how iiiHuen- 
tial was it ! They who told them so, were not aware 
how wide the dii^tance and difference between con- 
viclion and conversion is; or Ihey would never have 
told a soul, confessedly in a state of nature, not yet 
reconciled to God; in 0|>cn, though remorseful rebel- 
lion against him; whose guilt was increasing, and 
whose pollution was deepening every hour; that all 
would now be well, if it only holds on so. 

7th, Encouraging the sinner to linger, by advigiiig 
him "to wait God's tijite." This takes for granted, 
that the convicted sinner has done all his duty; has 
become reconciled ; has submitted to God ; and that 
God is now in fault, for not having granted acceptance 
and relief This is plainly laying all the blame ou 
God, of the sinner's obstinacy. And the unregene- 
rate, catches at this bait of destruction, and feels ibat 
it now rests on God's delinquency; and it rests satis- 
fied because it rests in its sins, and revels in its nollu- 
tions on God's account. These two last mealioni 
causes have had awfully bad effects. 

8th. Turning the aUention of awakened sinners 
any book besides ihe htble. We ha^'c known the rcBit- 
iiig even of Edwards on the Affections, though of 
unqualified excellence, totallv discourage young cbris- 



[a- 

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(41 ) 

tians, and drive back again to the world, some who 
were under convictions. Sonne people can see no dif- 
ference between a babe in Christy and one full grown, 
strong in the faith. 

9th. Proselyting views of conversation. In more 
instances than one, have we known an attempt to 
proselyte, put an entire stop to the awakening. Your 
committee would notice this, as a very influential 
cause, in order that it may be carefully attended to. 
Some good men, and many that are not good, are 
nevertheless, so attached to some particular sect or 
party, that they would rather have no awakening, 
than have it in a community to which they do not 
belong; which is a very emphatical mode of express- 
ing a sentiment, which they would indignantly disa- 
vow when put into words ; that is, that they would 
rather sinners should go down to hell undisturbed, 
than that they should go to heaven any other way, 
than through the door of their party ! And it is some 
what strange too, to what shifts such sectarian feel- 
ing will drive men, for the justification of their own 
unholy views. One will ridicule the doctrine of a 
new birth, as a new doctrine. Another, will ridicule 
all christian feeling and experience. Another, will 
affirm that, no man can ever know whether he is born 
again or not. Another, will deny the possibility of 
being bom again at once ; of any sudden change be- 
ing produced on the heart. Another, will ridicule the 
idea, that the hope of an interest in Christ, is at all 
necessary to the communion of the church; and will 
urge sinners to come to the communion table, because 
that is the only place to get religion. They will 
laugh at extra, meetings ; speak of them with trem- 
bling tenderness, as an awful worm and canker, at 




^r (42) 

^P the root of God's vineyard ; and affirm, thai tf God 
does not permit them to ruin it, yet, still they are, at 
the very least, altogether useless! And pome have 
been afraid to have their children attend them, for 

I fear of immoral effects, who have not feared to send 
thetn to dancing schools. Nor are the meetings 
themselves, only spoken against, but they who hold 
them, are considered as fools or enthusiasts, &c. &c. 
These objectors have gotten a system of saint mak- 
tog, and they who are not sainted according to its 
worm-eaten forms, are sinners still ; no matter how 

■ they walk in light and liberty ; no matter how 
they manifest faith and holiness; no matter how they 
love God, or Christ, or his people. The evil infln- 
enceofall this, arises from this circumstance, that 
sinners, who do not know the difference, will listen 
most readily to such men, professedly pious, as .speak 
to them in the smoothest terms. It falls directly in, 
with the carnalities of their hearts, to think that sin- 
ners have got nothing to do ; that they are not much in 
danger, and that those, who think differently, are 
fools. Your committee have had reason to 
over the baneful effects of this weak and wicked 
duet. 

lOtb. Breaking np anxious meetings tchile there an 
any anxious souls who wish to attend them. We have 
known some instances, where anxious meetings were 
broken up, when there were still some anxious souls; 
and now, at the distance of several months, we know 
of only very few of these that have gained relief, and 
the most of the others have become very cold and 
careless; and cbriatians too, were very much discour- 
aged. In short, it evidently killed the awaken! 
wherever this course was pursued 



,^ 



( 43) 



touU a false ground to re»t \ 



1 1th. Giving anxious i 
upon. A spectilalion ; an inference; a notion; or " 
any thing besides Jesus Christ, the sure, ike only/oun' 
dation. 

I2th. Untimely preaching. By this, yourcommit- 
tee mean, pressing the deep and difficult doctrines of 
the bible, on the attention of sinners who had scarce- 
Ij realized the elementary truth, of their own aliena* I 
tioD from God. Forcing babes in Christ, to receive J 
strong meat, when they can scarcely bear the pura | 
milk (if the word I Your committee have known 
some mournful results of this folly, both among young i 
converts and awakened sinners. 

13th. Cooling preaching. Your committee are not' I 
sure, that they give tbe right name to this kind of | 
preaching; but they will explain their meaning. They 
mean speculative discussions, at a time, when the 
hearts of the hearers are deeply distressed. An en* 
deavor to persuade convicted sinners, that they ought 
to be very suspicious of any indications of feeling, a 
savouring of enthusiasm, &c. That true conviction! ■ 
are never accompanied with feeling, &c. Your com- 
mittee, mention this kind of preaching, emphatically, 
because some good men were led to it, no doubt, from 
an idea that the church was in great danger of becom- 
ing enthusiastic ! That those who felt it a primary 
duty, to press faith and repentance, almost exclusive- 
ly, were too evidently zealots! That errors of every 
hateful name would flow in and spoil the beauty of 
God's husbandry ; and that it now devolved on tbem 
to set all things right ! Tbe heat was too great, and 
needed cooling. Now, this would all be wetll alt 
right, if tbe head was the seat of religion ; if an en- 
lightened understanding alone, would answer, as a 



I 



(44) 

substitute for a renovated heart. It would not be ^o 
very bati either, if doctrines, separated from dnly, 
would ever lend to vital holiness of heart. Your com- 
mittee feet that you are fishers of men, and, that man 
can never be caught by the head alone ; he must be 
caught by the heart also, if ever caught. God's re- 
quirements arc on the heart ; God's residence is there ; 
the influence of exhortation, persuasion, and entreaty \s 
there ; the motives exciting fear, love, gratitude, are 
operative there ; the exercise of faith, repentance, 
submission, is there; and your committtjc have known 
more injury done in one half hour, by such an eirort 
of misjudged benevolence, than could be repaired in 
a month. Your committee do not undervalue spec- 
ulative discussion, nor calmness, norcautiou, but let 
every thing be done in its season, and in its due meas- 
ure. A man may weep, and pray, and repent in ag- 
ony, and yet, be neither zealot nor enthusiast. 

14tb. Your committee might mention many other 
things : such as, visiting, or receiving visits of cere- 
mony, or friendship, while under conviction. Engag- 
ing in worldly conversations, or pursuits. The tut- 
gotUy lives of professors. The levity of the clek- 
GY. And their indolence too. Their well-meast 
BUT MISTAKEN ZEAL against secU and parties ; thus 
turning their feelings from the perishing state of those 
souls committed to their care ; but they refrain. 

And in conclusion, beg leave to notice the general 
character of the whole work. It was a deep heart work; 
free from delusions, from dreams, from visions, from 
□ew revelations. Sinners were brought to see them- 
selves awfully ruined! going down to hell, unable to 
help or extricate themselves from their miseries ! Sink- 
ing under the penalty, and far from the purity of 



(46) 

Ch)d's law ; and thus shut out from every other hope, 
they were shut up to the faith of the gospel. They were 
led to see Jemi as the only tcay to God the father ; as 
an able Saviour; as a very willing Saviour; as a Sti- 
viour just at hand, promising ^^ whosoever cometh 
unto me, I will in no ways cast out." And they have 
come, renouncing all reliance on themselves and 
trusting wholly on the finished righteousness of Jesus 
the redeemer, as the only ground of acceptance with 
Gh>d the father. Taking him for wisdom, righteous- 
ness, sanctification and complete redemption; and 
resting on him, have obtained joy and peace in be* 
lieving ; have cherished a hope of forgiven sin ; a good 
hope through grace. And those who cherish this 
hope, have generally been humbled and diffident; op- 
pressed with a sense of un worthiness; excited by a 
strong desire to have others partake of the same bles- 
sings with themselves. They have been uncommonly 
nnited together in christian love. And out of a num- 
ber, not much less than two thousand, who have been 
hopefully converted to God, of whom near fourteen 
hundred, have united themselves to the communion 
of your church, not more thanybur or five^ are known 
to have shown conclusive signs of apostacy, now at 
the distance of almost a year. 

^ And when God makes his jewels up. 

And sets his starrj crown; 
"When all his sparkling jems shall shine^ 
Proclum'd bj him, his own : 
May they, a little band of love. 
Be sinners, sav'd bj grace; 
From glorj nnto glory changed. 
Beholding face to face !" 

7 



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( 46 ) 

Your committee would also beg leave to nol 
that from documents bcTore ihem, in which tbey I 
the most im|)licit confidence, it appears that therehas 
been a work of God's prace carried on in Orange 
county ; nearly, if not altogether as extensive, as that 
detailed in their report; and would express their re- 
gret, that their liiuits will not allow, even an abridged 
account of it. They would, however, notice that in 
all its features, it is exactly like your own. That the 
means employed; the causes helping or hindering its 
progress, and the glorious results, do not differ per- 
ceptibly. In one place, Deer-Park, where Mr. Blaiii 
is placed, there were over sixty brought to God in 
three weeks; and the work was stopped in a single 
day, by a dispute ubotit baptism! And they would 
also state, that in the counties of Otsego, Chenango, 
Cortland, Madison and Ontario, there has been a si- 
milar out-pouring of the spirit within the same year, 
and the fall of the year preceding ; bringing into the 
family of God, more than two thousand children. 

In Columbia too, and Rensselaer counties, and ifl 
many other places, the Lord's glory has been eeeil 
and his saving health experienced. 

At present there is a glorious work of God's grace 
going on in Cherry- Valley, where nearly two btmdred 
are rejoicing in hope. It is spreading into Springfield 
and Middleficld, Cooperstown, Auburn, Camillus, 
Onondaga, Brutus, Salt-Point, and other places. 
We hear too from New-Haven, from Weathersfield, 
North -Killingworth, city of Hartford, Newington, 
Farmington and several other towns in Connecticut; 
from Dr. Spring's church in New- York, and from 
Coxsackie, Catskill, Hudson, Kinderhook, Athenj 



(47) 

Claverack and the Boght, where the Lord's Christ is 
conquering gloriously. Surely every heart is ready, 
in angelic strains, to say, " glory to God in the high- 
est, there is peace upon earth and good will to men." 

All which is most respectfully submitted. 

THOMAS McAULEY, 
HALSEY A. WOOD, 
MARK TUCKER, 
ELISHA YALE, 
WALTER MONTEITH, 
ELIPHALET NOTT, 

Committee. 



( 4S ) 



Your committee cannot help noticing the 
ing resemblance between this work of God, and that 
work of his in Northampton, in 1734, under the min- 
istry of President Kdwards, whose praise is in all the 
churches. The history of which, we have in the Srd 
vol. of his works ; which history, changing names and 
dates, would be a tolerably good history of the late 
revival ; and the committee would most earnestly re- 
commmend the perusal of that book to every one. 
And they would beg leave, to refer to the passages 
where the strongest points of resemblance are found. 
They have used the Worcester edition of 1808. 

In page 15. It will be founti that worldly conver- 
sation was very rarely admitted. 

— 17. The subjects were elevated in singing, and 

greatly devoted to that exercise. 

— 18. Some people mocked; called the awak< 

ing a distemper ! 

— 21. Some ministers came to see ! went bomi 

told their people all they saw ; which was 
occasion of an awakening with them. 
■ — 22. All ages and sexes were subjects of the 
work ; communions were frequent ; eighty ad- 
milted in one day. 

— 24. Several whole families were savingly ci 

verted. 

— 25. Great diversity of operations on the sb 

ners'hcart^. 



tbe 
ad- 

I 



(49) 

■ 

la page 27. Convictions increased, us the peni- 
tents drew near relief. 

— 29. The enmity of the heart, unusiiallv excited 

in some. 

— 30. Awakened sinners, first exercised most a- 

bout outward sins, afterwards, most exercised 
about heart sins. 

— 33. Some, only a few days under conviction, 

some, a great while. 

— 38. Some obtained comfort in rcadiu<^ or hear- 

ing some text of scripture, others, without any 
particular text occurring. 

— 42. Some had great joy, some laughed, some 

wept for joy. 

— 43. The judgement and practice of some min- 

isters were severely blamed. 
— « 44. Telling of conversions, was a great mean 
of carrying on the work. 

— 50. The renewed heart was full of Christ, his 

grace, his love, his mitableness, his excellency. 
' — 53. The converts made astonishing progress 
in doctrinal knowledge. 

— 55. They were greatly afraid of a false hope ; 

of being hypocrites ; of being deceived, &c. 

— 67. Often refreshed, by telling experiences to 

each other. 

— 59. The causes of stopping the work. 

In all these, there was no difference between the 
work in 1734, in Northampton, and in 1820 in your 
vicinity ; nor was there any difference, in the mode, 
and kind of opposition, in the two great and wonder- 
ful works. 



r 



( 50 ) 
Page 190. Ministers were blamed for addn 

the affections. 

— 195. For preaching terror. 

— 200. For frighteniog children ! 

— 201. For frequent meetings. 
-^ 208. Converts were blamed for talking and r 

joicing. 

— 213. For dinging so much. 

— 215. And children for holding meetings, 

&c. &c. 
Robert Fleming too, that celebrated Scotch diti 
in h'la book on the JulfiUng of the scriptures, as quot- 
ed by Mr. WilUsnti, of Dundee, by Dr. Owen, by 
president Edicardn, and others, as worthy of highest 
credit, shows us, that awakenings in Germany, in 
Holland, in Ireland, and in Scotland, had been very 
general and powerful. And we find, that those which 
he describes, especially in the West of Scotland, were 
exactly like those of our own day. Page 302, Art 3, 
he Bpeaks of that wonderful work of God's grace in the 
year 1625, every feature of which, and of the opposi- 
tion it met with, and of the slanders it was assailed 
with, and of the effects which followed, were Bimilar 
to the work before us. And again, in page 303, Ar- 
ticle 4, he gives the account of the remarkable out- 
pouring of God's Spirit, on the2lst June, I630,at the 
Kirk of Shots ; where, under o»e Sermon, nearly five 
hundred were hopefully converted to God, and they 
mostly continued lively and solid christians. And be 
tells us too, that the preceding night, had been mostly 
spent in prayer, by the christians of that place ! and 
that the awakenings in Ireland in 162S, were vej 
simitar. 



(61 ) 

From the Evangelical Magazine of Octobiery 1816, 
there has been copied into the Religious intelligen- 
cer, vol. 2, page 469, an account of a most glorious 
revival in Glenlyon, in the Highlands of Scotland , in 
that year ; which, in all its leading features, corres- 
ponds exactly with the awakening in Saratoga coun- 
ty and elsewhere. 



/ 



n 



.It 
ii 



1:'^' 



I 

' '-A 



> 

I 1 



I 



'ii 



1 




liETTERS 



OV THK 



REV. DR. BEECHER AND REV. MR. NETTLETON, 



OSTHJE 



"NEW MEASURES" 



IV 



CONDUCTINO REVIVALS OF RELIGION. 



WITH A 

REVIEW OF A SERKOM, 

BT IfOTAlfOLUS. 



irtte Iroo b« UoBt, and be do not wh«C the edge, then moil be put to aora itmgth : but wk- 
It proihaUe to direct. Ecclei. z. 10. 

And the tpiriti of the prophete are subject to the prophets ; for God ii not the author (tf eonfii* 
I, bvt of peace, aa in all churcfaet of the laintj. 1 Cor. xiv. 3S, 33. 

Left an tUngi be done decently, and in order. 1 Cor. xiv. 40. 

Abo, that the loul be without knowledge, it ii not good ; and he that baateih with hii feet tin- 
«elh. ProT. six. S. 

The Lord waa not in the earthquake. 1 Kings xiz. 11. 

Of eooM haTe eonpoMion, making a diffraronco ; and others mto with ftar, palHog them oot of 
tho fbi : hatiog even the garment spotted by the flesh. Jude S3, S3. 



rUBLIIIIKD AT THE REQUEST OF SEVERAL OENTLEMKIT OF THE 

CITT OF ITEW-TORK. 



NEW-YORK : 
G. &. C. CARVILL, BROADWAY. 

1828. 



BE IT BEMBHBtllBD. Tbil oa Um Hrnmiilb <Iit erjuuur. 1 D. t«W,h 
Ort.-iHDHlTnrariMIiiAipiDilfiiisorttwIIiilladSOWaf AriKtto. G. k C. C> 
of iJi« Mid PMrfth kan M*<»ltcd Id tUi offiu ibdHR ol itnalL, iLi diU •kcraor 
eUIm u pnprMon, Is Um hotM rollowtnt. to oil i 

LcuentfUiaRai. Dr. BcMhuand Hci.Mr. n«tlI*iai,oi IhB" New Heuut«"li 
dvctlnn Bnmti enic1t|kiD. WIIhiHaTlen ariSemion.bj Nonn^lui. 
»irtka Iron In bliial iixi baito But nliet iks nltc. Ui«d muit lie pui Io men Mi«(ik 

And tlw iptiili of Ibi nropMli n tubjacl to (tis prcpbeb ; for Gn) ii not (lie uitbui of c 



Jl.lllhlDMb 

l»,ll)itlG.» 
elb. Pro*. Ill 



irtbinroDM 



inn« ileeKlllr. iM in ordat. 
be ■llteuf koowltdie. H 

lalheetrthiiuiM. t If Ini 






^ 



Fublhliiel al Ibi lagueil oreeieiaJ senlleoi 
aoBftimlty to ths Aet of Contren ol 
^BtorLaaniliii.by Mcurl 

rif, b7 Mguiin ^ci^iM of UtpaTciivn.u 

coplai, durbif th* 111 — ■'— ■ ■---■ 

>Im1|bU),«b ■ 



■Dilleg Iba baoaflU theraaf Id tba uU of 

FRED. J. BBTTS, 
rt qf (At SnlAint Diilrtcl itf riaf Ftrt. 



J. utmimanDCTEB, jorqi-vtkbct. 




PREFACE. 

The importance of religion, in each and all of its 
IDultiform relations, surpasses the comprehension of 
mortals, as it can be fuliy resolved only hy the intel- 
figenceofGod. Other things are known hy corapa-. 
^-^/ison ; but religion Is so transceiulent, that all other 
jfllings are less than nothing in the contraat, and 
Worse than nothing in the rivalry of this! Phil. iii. 8. 
But this view of the matter evinces its importance in 
relation merely to men. It lias also a relation to God, 
its author, patron, and avenger : since, with religion, 
aod its advancement on his footstool, are connected 
the development of his glory, the honour of his wor- 
«bip, and the venerabieness of his name ! Precious 
lin his sight are the ark of his covenant, the lustre of 
llis mercy-seat, and the glory of his righteousness. 

In this aspect of the subject, ihe purity of religion 
is as important as religion itself; and for this valid 
reason, i^enuine religion is, strictly speaking, the only 
Ttligion. So thought the apostle, when he wrote 
this topic to the Galatian church, in respect to the 
in6uence of certain innovators, who, on pretence of 

iproving the religion of Christ, were really adulte- 

iting and destroying it. 

Every departure from the truth and order of" the 
glorious gospel of the blessed God," is to be depre- 
cated. It is either a corruption of the gospel, or a 
fearful approximation towards it. Obsta principiis, re- 
sist the beginnings, is the counsel of wisdom. God 
would not have given so much instruction on this 
identical point, as the bible contains, if much had not 



i 



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^P been necessary. Many rays are emitted at his order 

^ from the natural Bun, as the means of making our 

day; but who, that loves the light, will deem one of 

them superfluous ? 

The importance of truth in religion, as that which 
brightens our moral atmosphere and makes our day^j 
is perhaps more frequently admitted than tke 
poriance of order. Truth and order are viewed 
as if 80 distinct, as to possess almost nothing in com- 
mon. What is this, but to mistake them ? They are 
near relations, and almost inseparable intimates ! The 
value of truth is in subserviency to order; and Bub- 
jectire religion is that influence of truth which, 
" through the eternal Spirit," restores and establish- 
es order in the mind. Hence a religious man is one 
who, through the truth, becomes "sober minded;" 
having his thoughts, feelings, motives, and conduct, 
all subordinated to his divine Superior, and ordered in 
all relations according to the will of God. Such a 
man, in proportion as he is religious and experienced, 
delights in universal order; loves it in individuals 
and communities, in things sacred and things secular, 
in the relations of life, domestic, social, civil, and ec- 
clesiastical. To be the enemy of order, is to be the 
enemy of God : and to seek the advancement of reli- 
gion by the measures of disorder, is to misunderstand 
its nature; to exercise zeal at the expense of godli- 
ness ; and to frustrate the end by the means we 
adopt to promote it. Unless we would justify the 
policy of the Jesuit, and imitate the " pious frauds" of 
the Romish propaganda, and so forego our claim to 
the honour of proleslanl Christianity, let us remember 
that the end cannot sanctify or change the moral na- 
ture of the mecms ; and that all our measures in reli- 



1 



court ot con- ^ 



gioii, are first to be suBlained in the court 
science, in regard to the purity of the means and mo- 
tives which they involve, and then carried forth into 
performance to the glory of God. Otherwise, we 
shall sin in the pursuit of the best ends ; and what is 
worse to us, be blinded against the truth that would 
work our correction. 

The recent collisions of sentiment, concerning the 
■proper method of conducting religious revivals, have but 
revived a well known controversy. Not only in our 
own times, but in all ages ot the world, have its la- 
tent principles been agitated in the visible church. 
Since the period of the reformation, they have been 
more frequent and obtrusive. In the time of Luther, 
the spirit of disorganizing appeared, to disparage 
the cause of truth, to vex its noble " helpers," and to 
aid the malice of the exterior foe. The civil agita- 
tions of the time of Cromwell, were but the counter- 
part, perhaps the consequence, of a worse radicalism 
in the church. The mounds of order were demolish- 
ed, the friends of order were denounced ; and no- 
thing was spiritual that did not disclaim manhood in 
understanding, and enlist in a furious crusade against 
truth and soberness. Nor have we wanted the ex- 
periment in our own country. The times of Edwards 
and Whitfield witnessed the currency of counterfeits, 
and were scourged with the principles, from which, 
as a general mint, the spurious coinage proceeded. 
Whoever reads with attention the fourth pari of Ed- 
wards on the revivalsin J^ew-England, will be convinc- 
ed that our present dissention is itself no novelty: 
■ perhaps be will believe also, that if "truth and so- 
H bernesa" be with the sentiments of Edwards on this 



I 



1 



\ 



t 



I 



the propriety of "means and measures," which, 
some respects, are rightly termed "new;" for thei 
have not, till of late, been extensively revived in ooi 
times. The concluding part of the life of Brainai 
inspires the same conviction. Recent events, ibrii 
few years seem to betoken a struggle /or principles i 
this matter, to which we may be fast approaching, a 
the catastrophe of which we may be equally unah 
to avert or endure. In the mean lime, however,] 
becomes all parties to be cautious: "Walking! 
curaspectly, not as fools, but as wise." Let ua hei 
to the counsel of apostles, and digest it prayerfully, be- 
fore we act or speak in a cause, of which the right 
or the wrong may not be exclusively on either side. 
"For if we would judge ourselves, we should not be 
judged." I Cor. xi. 31. 

Our reasons for the publication of these letters in 
their present form, are several : a persuasion of tbetr 
excellence and prospective utility ; a regard to the ii*- 
terests of the church in future ages, to whom these do- 
cumentsmay be serviceable: their greater convenience 
in the pamphlet form for the perusal of general read- 
ers; a demand from many quarters, where the contro- 
versy is in some degree appreciated, or where an inte- 
rest in its principles begins to be apparent ; an anti- 
cipation of the possibility that there may be special me 
for these letters in their combined stale, even before 
our age has passed away, either in the way q( preven- 
tion or of cure; and, especially, a desire to give to all 
our contemporaries that admonitory counsel against 
the genius of religious extravagance, which perhaps 
some of them need, and which these letters are deem- 
ed peculiarly competent to afford : nor will we con- 
ceal, among the motives that induce this publicn- 



tion, a wrsh for the discriiniiialion of pergam as con- 
nected with principles ; at least so far as to demon- 
■^trate, on tlie subject of religious revivals, wliat are, 
and w/tal are mi, the views of such excellent and ac- 
credited fathers in the churcli. as those whose names 
occur as the writers of these letters — names that 
will, we doubt not, remain when all comhustibh matter 
shall have passed awaj, and be held "in everlasting 
remembrance." We wish to have responsibility un- 
derstood in relation to its proper subjects; so that 
if these "means and measures" should still be main- 
tained, and should finally succeed, we may know 
whom to praise, under God, for the wisdom that ap- 
plied, and the patience that sustained, and the cou- 
rage that defended them: and if they faiU if they 
induce desolation to the churches ; if their pathway 
■djball hereafter be traced by the burning of their 
progress; if their consequences jAouW prove widely 
It niinous, and confessedly wrong in the end; if the 
worst anticipations of these letters should be at last 
realized, or, possibly, transcended, — that it may be at 
hast known, though our heads should then be low in 
dust, and known by witnesses that we furnished, and 
that shall survive and faithfully interpret us, that sojru . 
1 were not Iheir patrons ; and especiaily thai such names as 
Nettleton, and Beecher, and Porter, to satf nothing 
, of others, were not respomiblefor their devastation! This 
has been, especially with Mr. JVeitlelon, as we have 
understood and believed, one great motive in all the 
publications; as we know that his mind felt relief, 
and his conscience enjoyed the solace of peaceful- 
nesa, when his letters were first published to the 
world, from the consideration that he had done an 
important duty, — not, as we believe, without self-de- 



I 





iiial and real diffidence in other respects, more thi 
would be appreciated, if declared, in the present 
world. We have no disposition to exalt the man, 
though we have yet to learn it if there be no differ- 
ence between flattery and praise; or. if it be wrong 
to " receive him in the Lord with all gladness, and 
hold such in reputation, or even to esteem them very 
highly in love for their work's sake." Besides, his 
name is now associated with principles which are 
endeared to a large and enlightened circle of Cbrti 
tians. 

For the sake of religion, we think it of great mo^ 
ment that these letters should be read from the auto- 
graphs of their writers, or at least from printed co- 
pies which confess their names, and can be subject- 
ed to their scrutiny and sanction ; and especially that 
candidates for the ministry should become thorough^ 
acquainted with them ; lest, on the one hand, through 
ignorance or mistake, they become prejudiced 
against the very name of revivals ; or, on the otber» 
so wedded to incorrect principles, and that proba- 
bly from profound ignorance of the true, that their 
future influence shall sweep us as with the spirit of 
the whirlwind, or the death-blast of the sirocco; till 
all that has been dreaded, as the legitimate result of 
erroneous principles, shall be visited upon the ruined 
churches of our land : an evil not to be borne by our 
children, and which ought to be foreseen, and, if 
possible, prevented, by the wisdom, the firmness, and 
the prayerfulness of their fathers. 



are 



d 



^AV^pAWtt 



Albany, Jan. 13, 18S7. 

Mr DSAR Brothsr-— Would that I had time and atrei^^ 
to give you particulars on the state of religion in this region 
and elsewhere. In Albany it is interesting. But I mm 
great fears that the disposition of some zealous Christiaiii 
round about us, to proclaim it abroad, and to run before their 
own hearts and the real state of thmgs, will run it out ii^ 
noise. I have already felt the eviL I find that many are di% 
posed to make ten times as much of the same state of thiAgi 
as I have been in the habit of doing, though they know but 
a small part of what I have seen in this place. I have net 
a number of circles of difierent kinds. Some are rajjoie* 
ing in hope, and a number anxious for their souls. Varioaa 
reports have gone out concerning a Revival in Albany, which 
have done us much mischie£ If they would let us alone, I 
should expect a great work in this city. But among so nrach 
noise and bluster of Christians, it promises fair to end in 
smoke. But after all, the good people here are astonished 
at 9ur stillness. My opinion is, that bad they been ten times 
as stiD, they would already have witnessed ten times as 
much. 

Seven years ago, about two thousand souls were hopeiiilly 
bom into the kingdom, in this vicinity, in our owp denominap 
tion, with comparative stillness. But the times have altered. 
The kingdom of Ck>d now cometh with great observationi 
Opposition from the world is always to be expected. It is 
idle for any minister to expect a Revival without it. But 
when it enters the church of God, the friends of Zion, cannot 
but take the alarm. 

There is doubtless a work of grace in Troy. Many sin- 
ners have hopefully been born into the kingdom ; but it has 
been at an awful expense. Many of our first ministers have 
visited the place, to ^vitne8s for themselves. Such men as 
Dr. Griffin, Dr. Porter of Catskill, Dr. Nott, Mr. Tucker, 
Mr. Cornelius, and many more. Some of them hav^ heard 
a number of sermons. After giving credit for preaching 
much truth, they uniformly say, " I never heard the^^ames of 
God used with such irreverence.*^ Dr. Griffin gave me a 
number of specimens. I do not mAk to retail them. Ttaf 

2 



10 

church in Troy is greatly divided. Some have token a. i 
misBton ; otliers are consulting neighbouring ministers abom 
the path of duty ; and others are beginning to attend woiship 
by themselves. 

But the worst is nut told. The spirit of denunciation 
which has grown out of tho mode of conducting the revivals 
at the West, is truly alarming. We do not call in question 
the genuineness of that revival, or the purilj' of the motives 
of those who have been the most active in ii. You, doubt- 
less, are reaping and rejoicing m their happy fruits. But the 
evils to which i allude, arc felt by the churches abroad; 
members of which have gone out to catch the spirit, and have 
returned, some grieved, others soured, and denouncing 
ministers, colleges. Theological Seminaries, and have set 
whole churches by the ears, and kept them in turmoil for 
nonlhs together. Some students in divinity have done more 
miiohier in this way than they can ever repair. I coutd men- 
tioo names, but for exposing them. Some ministers and pro- 
fesBurs of religion have been lo Troy, from the surroundtDg 
region, on purpose to catch the Dame, and have returned 
home, eaying, " We do not want such a revival as they haTC 
in Troy," 

I went down to H — ■• a short time since, and spent 
Sabbath, and there met seven or eight ministers from vari- 
ous parts ; and you would be perfectly astonished to hear 
them tell the troubles which have been introduced into their 
churches from the western revivals. The church in H— '— 
has been in a complete turmoil all summer long, occasioned 
by a student in divinity, who had heard Mr. Fiuncy.* He 
commenced operations to have a revival on the new plin. 
He found fault with every thing the settled minister was doing, 
atid raised an angry dispute about females praying in pro- 
miscuous assemblies. He went about trying to raise aparly 
to " break down the Pastor," as he called it. I cannot be 
particular — only, before he came to the place, there was 
some attention, and n few conversions. But a desperate 
attempt to introduce the practice of females praying with 
nmies, raised an angry dispute which lasted all Bummer. 
And they had a revival of anger in the church, bat no mor« 
eonvernons, This account I had from the lips of the nunit- 
ler of the place, his wife, and session. That you a 
derstand my meaning, 1 have given this onl}- as 



* H« tiad«b«en ia the treitem rerjiah and adopletl the new n 
Some My ttnt ho bni tint Utea heard Mr. F. Of tliis cin;uiuilu 
LfiLiolotiaciaai,i\ tyUr tliii tetter Kancriltat, 




The evil is ninning in all directions. A number ofi 
cfaurches have experienced a revival of luiger, wrath, malice,, 
envy, and evii-apeaking, without the knowledge of a aioglft 
conversion, — merely in conaequence of a desperate attempt, 
to introduce these new measures. Those ministers and^ 
Christians who have heretofore been moat and longest ac- 
quainted with revivals, are most alarmed at ihe spirit which, 
has grown out of the revivals of the West. This spirit has, 
no doubt, greatly deteriorated by transportation. AswenoW' 
have it, the great contest is among professors of religion — 
a civil war in Zion — a domestic broil in the household of failh.. 
The Giends of Brother Finney are certainly doing him and: 
the cause of Chrislgreat mischief. They seem more anxioui. 
to convert ministers and Cliriatians to tbeir peculiarities, than 
to convert souls to Christ. 

It is jusi such a contest as 1 have sometimes seen, in its in- 
cipient stages, in New-England, between some young revival 
ministers on the one side, and whole associations of minis- 
ters on tl»e other. The young revival ministers, wishing to 
extend the work into all the churches, in their zeal would* 
enter Uie limits of settled Pastors and commence their ope- 
rations, and plead my own example for all (heir movements % 
lod so the war would begin. And all those ministers who 
would not yield the reins and sanction their imprudences, 
Would be sure to be proclaimed as enemies to rcvlTals. 
Being thus defeated, these young ministers would come to 
ine to make their complaints, and to work on my mind tfa« 
conviction that all those ministers were enemies to myselfv 
whereas the whole evil lay in a violation of all the rules of 
ministerial order and Christian meekness, or in the inexpe- 
rience, ignorance, and imprudence of these young ministers, 
I ara sorry to speak thus of my beat friends ; but it is due to 
taj brethren to say, that those very ministers, who had been 
IIhh slandered by my young brethren, have since come to me 
with tears, urging me to visit their flocks. There is not one 
ftf them but would bid me a welcome, and would r^oice in 
a revival ; but they would not invite these young ministers to 
preach for them who had been so rash in their proceedings, 
md guilty of slandering them as stupid, and dead, and ene- 
mies of revivals. In this manner some of the most promis- 
ing young revival ministers have run themselves out, and lost- 
Ibe confidence of settled Pastors and Christians in general. 

The spirit of denunciation which has grown out of ihera 
■Western revival?, seems to be owing to the imphcit confi- 
dence which has been placed in the proceedings of just such , 
foung ministers as leaders. They dared not attei^t to cor- , 
rect any of their irregularities, for fear of domg mischief, orj^^ 




I 



I 
I 



of being denounced as enemies to refivals. This I koow to 
be the fact. Brolher Finney himself liaa been scarcely three 
yean in the ministry, and has had no time lo look et conse- 
quences. He lias gone, with all the zeal of a young convert, 
without a friend to check or guide him. And I have oo doubt 
that he begins with astoniEhment to look at the evils which 
are running before him. 

The account which his particular friends give of his 
proceedingB, is, in substance, as follows : He has got mi- 
nisters to agree with him only by " crushing," or " break- 
ing them down."* The method by which he does it, 
is by creating a necessity, by getting a few individuals in 
a church to join him, and then all those who will not go 
all lengths with him are denounced as enemies to revivals; 
and rather than have such a bad name, one and another falls 
in to defend him : and then they proclaim what ministers, 
elders, and men of influence, have been " crushed" 
" broken down." This moral influence being increi 
others are denounced, in a similar manner, as standing < 
and leading sinners to hell. And to get rid of the noise, ■ 
save himself, another ivill " break down." And so they wax 
hotter and hotter, until the church is fairly split in twain. 
And now, as for those elders and Christians, who have thus 
been converted to these measures ; some of them are send- 
ing out private word to their Christian friends abroad, as fol- 
' lows : " 1 have been fairly skinned by the denunciations of 
theso men, and have ceased to oppose them, lo get rid of 
their noise. But I warn you not to introduce this spirit into 
your church and society." And so, Brother Finney's sup 
posed friends, men of influence, are sending out word to watn 
others to beware of the evils which they have experienoi ' 
I heartily pity Brother Finney, for I believe him to be aai 
man, and wishing to do good. But nobody dares teJl h 
that a train of causes is set in operation, and urged onbfjl 
own friends, which is likely to ruin his usefulness. 

I have become acquainted with some of the young pre 
era who profess to have taken their stamp from Brother S, 
ney, 1 do not believe that there is much in them of A 
original. I am sorry to say, that the spirit which they nut 
fest, and unwittingly diffuse, appears to me to resemble « 
thing rather than the "wisdom which is from above," or 1 



• Tho phrases, " biitterecl,'' and " skiooed," anJ " broken down," j 
" crusheii" were coined and are curront only among Ihe friends of (be n 



y^ --—— - — j~- e abure nuread inji 

Oneida Pr««Df lerj', the laogua^ Munded to harth when vttd hy dIh 

ib«t one of Iheie very meo remarked that " ihe id ' 

tUgaltd by (be dcril." 



IS 

^JroiU of fhQ Spirit'* TIiq ndniBter who ibould extiorl 
ChristianB in the following strain, '^ Pat on, therefore, as the 
elect ot God, hol^ and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness^ 
humbleness of mmd, meekness, long-suffering, forbearing one 
another, and forgiving one another,^' I fear wouki be de- 
nounced as being far, '^ very far, behind the spirit of the 
times." They do cultivate, and awaken in others, what very 
much resembles the passion of anger, wrath, malice, envy, 
and evil speaking. This is the inevitable consequence of 
their style of preaching. As Dr. Griffin observed, ^^ It soundi 
like the accredited language of profanity," or as a pious wo- 
man of colour in Troy expressed it, ^^I do wonder what has 
got into all the ministers to swear so in the pulpit." 

There is not a minister of my acquaintance, who has visit- 
ed Troy, and heard a number of sermons, but is alarmed on 
thb subject I have noticed, that the most pious and de- 
voted Cfhristians, firom the revivals where I have been, are the 
last to fellowship these men and their measures : and that 
those professors, whose piety has heretofore been considered 
the most superficial or doubtful, are the first to fall in with 
both.* I except a few pious persons, who have never wit- 
nessed a revival in any form, and are anxious for one. And 
die reason to my mind is perfectly obvious : it requires no- 
thinff but zeal without knowledge. 

Whoever has made himself acquainted with the state of 
things in New-England, near the close of the revival in the 
days of Whitfield and Edwards, cannot but weep over its 
likeness to the present It is affecting that the warm friends 
of Zion should unwittingly betray her best interests. But so 
was it then. The young itinerants, in their zeal to extend 
the work, began to denounce all those settled ministers who 
would not go all lengths with them. And then those mem- 
bers of churches who loved their pastors would assemble 
around to defend them ; while those who favoured the itine- 
rants assembled around them, and imbibing their spirit, of 
course lost all confidence in a settled ministry : And so the 
churches were split in twain. The spirit of God took its 
fOght, and darkness and discord reigned for half a century. 
'And those preachers who had taken the lead, having cultiva- 
ted such a spirit, began to fall into awful darkness them- 
■eWes, when they saw the ruin that followed their labours. 
Some of them made and published their recantations to the 
world, which are now extant. But it was too late. A retri- 



* This fact, lo novel and mjsteriont to many, b easily e^hined. It it 
a practksai coimnent on the principle advocated in Mr. fffM|% printed 
tcraufti. 



I 



u 

button followed. Some few of the young converts were call- 
«d to ortler by David Brainard, who passed through Connec- 
ticut at that tifoe. But afler their recantations these leaders 
were genetally denounced by their own followen. Coutd 
Whilfielfi, aod Edwards, and Brainard, and Davenport, do w 
arise from the dead, ] have no doubt they would eidaim, 
'■ young men, beware I beware !" 

In the remarks which Ihave niade,you will understand me. 
I separate between the efficacy of the measures adoptedin Ibe 
Western revivals, and the evils which have grown out of 
those meaBures. Of the former, I have no doubt.* But the 
latter are certainly calamitous, beyond any thing i ever wit- 
nessed. SofBe of ihc suhjects of these revivals, and others 
wbo have been |M-esent in them, are scattered over the coun- 
try far from those scenes of operation. The tidings of the 
means used are told by those who have never witnessed a re- 
vival in any other form. Now, these means are very simpk, 
and just such as every body can use, male and female. Wlio 
cannot call his minister stupid and dead, and pray for him by 
name as such ? And if he gels mad, and all the church too, 
no matter fur that ; " the more opposition the better," Thii 
IB certaianly the way to have a revival ; for it is Mr. Fiaoef^ 
method : And he has the sanction of such men as Mr. Lan- 
sing and Aikin, and others. They did not bctievc in aiieh 
measures at first i but they have been broken down. 

In this way some of our best ministers are slandered, the 
churches divided, and the efficacy of the regular services oC 
the settled ministry destroyed. Overlooking the fact that 
the very means employed with wonderful success in the midtt 
of a powerful revival are generally the very worst when car- 
ried out of the field of such an excitement. Some atudenfej 
in divinity, and others, in their attempts to imitate Bn... 
Finney, have reminded us of the conduct and success oTtl. 
seven sons of Sceva, who undertook to imitate Paul, i 
Acts xix. 

The practice of females praying in promiscuous asseii 
blies is considered as absolutely indispensable, so that t 
thing can possibly be done without it. 1 am sorry (o » 
tliat some young men have been considered as acting " amo- 
rously foolish" on this subject. The practice itself is rtry 
taking with some real Christians, no doubt ; but slill i 



* Theie rerivals would doiiblleas hare been equal, or eren hr ^tmIm 
trilbout Ihe new measares. Tbii I knaw to be the opinion oftboie loi " 
tert at (be WaH, whose ago and esperience ought to qualir^ them tt 
thanKNl comment judgea. An ailempt to inlroduce IbsM a 
muiy pluei. bu manifetll; been followcil with a blifht. 



15 

•o with the hypocritical and diBorganitinK part of tocietf. 
Ministers have been told by encb persona that they wer« too 
proud to permit females to pray before them ; that th«jr 
never could have a revival until they were willing to conM 
down to that practice. Some of my brethren have been tb" ' 
flolutely insulted by females on thia subject Thus manj 
ministers and churches are tormented, and the spirit of a r^ 
vival utterly destroyed in some places, and prevented io- 
others. If our brethren at the West knew the evils that are 
felt by settled ministers abroad, 1 know they could not but 
weep over them. In the language of Dr. Griffin, "It is com* 
plete radicalism," The means which it is said have beeo a« 
successful at the West, have been so caricatured by the t^O^ 
bile vulfpii in religion, running before Brother Finney into 
every city and town, far and near, that I am sure he must 
labour under prodigious disadvantage in all these placei, 
without shifting the entire mode of his attack. The coB> 
sciences of the wicked have become more callous than ever. 
Their language is, " I want no such religion." The hearts 
of our best ministers, and Christians generally, are grieved 
and exceedingly alarmed on this subject. It is owing entire* 
|y to the disorganizing spirit which has already been intrt^ 
duced into their churches, that ministers, in general, so fai 
ts I am acquainted, are afraid to invite Brother Finney, or 
■ny who adopt his peculiarities, to preach for them. Some 
of Brother r inney's younger brethren and friends may at* 
tempi to work on his mind the conviction that most of out 
ministers and churches are enemies to revivals, and unfriend* 
ly (o himself. I feel it my duty to speak in their behalf. I 
know it to be a mistake. The best friends of revivals, u ' 
they have heretofore witnessed them, are certainly the most 
afraid to invite him into their churches, and are the most 
alarmed at the evils that are rising. And, I must say, that 
his friends are certainly labouring to introduce those very 
measures, which I have ever regarded as ultimately working 
niin to our churches ; and against which 1 have alwayi 
guarded as ruinous to the character of revivals, as well as t4 
ray own usefulness. 

For example : whoever introduces the practice of femalM 
praying in promiscuous assemblies, let tlie practice once be- 
come general, will ere long find, to his sorrow, that he haa 
made an inlet to other denominations, and entailed an ever* 
lasting quarrel on those churches generally. If settled pas* , 
tora choose to do it, on their own responsibility, so be it. 
For one, I dare not assume so great a respousibihty. In thiri < 
way churches were once laid waste. And it is by keeping 
autfBodcarefutl; aTwding eTsry tbmg trf Utii kind, that ■ow^i^ 



I 



I 

I 



And 

M 

I, do 
e be- 
nd I 

and I 



of them have again been built, oLiiera kept orderly, utd the 
character of revivals, for thirty yeara past, has been guarded. 
If the evil be not soon prevented, a generation will ariae in- 
heriting all the obliquities of their leaders, not knovring that 
a revival ever did or can exist, without all those evils. And 
these evils are destined to be propagated from generation fa 
generation, waxing worse and worse. « 

The friends of Brother Finney are afraid to interfere J 
correct any thing, lest they should do mischief, or be ( 
Dounced as enemies of revivals. "Brother Nettleton, 
come into this region and help us ; for many things are be- 
coming current among us which 1 cannot approve. And I 
can do nothing to correct them, but f am immediately shaiB 
out of it, by being denounced as an enemy to revivnU-^jj 
Thus my mbisterial brethren from the West, whoee viol 
accord with my own, have been calling (o me, in (heir IctuL 
during the summer past. " There is religion in it, andl 
dare not touch it. I see the evil, and tremble at the conse- 
quences ; but what can i do 'I" This is the language of 
many of his warmest friends. And so the bad must all ^ 
defended with the good. This sentiment adopted, wiU e 
tainty ruin revivalt. It is the language of a novice: t 
just as Ibe devil would have it. If the friends of revivals d 
not correct their own faults, who will do it for them 1 \ 
know no such policy. I would no more dare defend in tj 
gross, than condemn in the gross. And those who adopt fl 
former practice, ivill soon be compelled by prevailing t 
ruptions to take along with It the latter. The charoo' 
revivals is to be sustained on the same principles as tl 
churches, or individual Christians. If we would ju^ga 4., 
selves, we thouJd not be judged. It is not by covermg, ft 
by confessing and forsaking, that pure revivals are |o t~ 
per. In this manner their character has long been subUh _ 
Things have not been left to run to such lengths in our da| 
A strong hand has been laid on young converts, old profes- 
sors, and especially on zealous young ministers, as many of 
them now living can testify. I have been afraid to kiadla 
Hres where there was not some spiritual watchman near, 4 
guard and watch against wildnees, for which I might becoi' 
responsible. Some students in divinity have caught and 
ried the flame into neighbouring towns and villages, and,d 
doubt have been the means of the salvation of some aoqf 
But I am sorry to say, that some of them have run before q 
into the most populous places, and have carried their r 
Bures so far, and have become so dictatorial and i 
that, in the opinion of the most judicious and infloentiaJ nit- 
nisters of my acquaintance, they have done far more o 



11 

chief than good. They have pleaded my exampte for many 
meaaures, which, as to time and circumstances, I utterly con- 
demn. Some of the means which I have never dared to 
employ except in the most interesting crisis of a powerful re- 
vival, they have caricatured in such a manner, and raised 
such prejudices against myself among strangers, that they 
hiLve caused me much trouble. My plans have been laid to 
visit many towns and cities, and^have been wholly defeated 
by these students in divinity thus jrunning before me. I have 
been much grieved, and exceedingly perplexed on this sub- 
ject. They assume an authority, unwittingly I allow, and 
adopt measures, which no ordained minister could do, with- 
out ruining his usefblness. Evils arising hence have uniform- 
ly been arrested in their progress, by my taking the part of 
settled Pastors among their flocks: at a great expense of 
feeling, on the part of my young friends, no doubt ; but the 
cause of revivals evidently required it.* 

I have been anxiously looking and waiting, all summer 
long, for such men as yourself and Mr. Lansing, and others 
most intimately acquainted with Brother Finney, to take 
hold, with a kind severity, and restore order ; but in vain. It 
is not expected that a powerful revival can exist among im- 
perfect beings without more or less irregularity and opposi- 
tion ; but it is expected that these things will generally sub- 
side, and leave the churches in a more peaceful, happy, and 
flourishing state than ever. This has uniformly been the 
case, where revivals have prevailed. But irregularities are 
prevailing so fast, and assuming such a character, in our 
churches, as infinitely to ovcrbcuance the good that is left. 
These evils, sooner or later, must be corrected. Somebody 
must speak, or silence will prove our ruin. Fire is an excel- 
lent thmg in its place, and I am not afraid to see it blaze 
among briers and thorns ; but when I see it kindling where 
it will ruin fences, and gardens, and houses, and burn up my 
friends, I cannot be silent. 

Had the evil been checked in the commencement, it would 



* There is a laiig^e class of ignorant well meaning^ people, who iu a reri- 
val beoome officious, and sometimes exceedingly troublesome to setUed 
Puton. And do eyangelist can shake them off without offending them. 
And if he does not shake them off, be will shake off minsiters for a whilo«- 
and then tbej will shake him off These things were named, not as ground 
of complaint, but only as a clue to correct greater eWls, such as owe their 
origin entirely to a desperate attempt to introduce the new measures. 
Some ministers at the West, however, instead of taking the hint to cor- 
rect, have taken it only as a cover to their own incorrigible cffspring, in- 
samucb that ours too are ruDning to them for protection. It is certaioly a 
good riddance to ui. 

3 



I 



I 



I 



18 

have been sn act of kindness to Brother Finney, 
great gain to the cause of revivals. He would have foa 
ministers every where bidding him welcome. Hb help 'u 
every where greatly needed. For a settled Pastor, the entire 
confidence of otlier ministers would not be so imporUmL 
But, whoever undertakes to promote revivals, by nmniag 
through the world, in this age of revivals, must have the eth 
tire confidence of settJed miniatore generally ; otherwise he 
will unsettle ministers, and desolate churches, wherever he 
goes. Without their hearty co-operation, he will certainly 
labour at great disadvantage : as if a mariner, steering bis 
ship in a storm at sea, in his zeal shouli^ quit the helm, and 
ply his strength at the mast. 

The practice of praying for people by name, in the closet, 
and the social circle, has no doubt had a Uiueficiul effect. 
But, as it now exists in many places, it has become, in the 
eye of the Christian community at large, an engine of public 
slander in its wor^t form. I should not dare, in this solemn 
manner, to arraign a fellow-sinner before a pubfic assembly, 
without his own particular request, unless my expressiw 
were of the most conciliatory kind. And no Christian to' 
ter, whatever his character may be, can adopt the pta* 
without awakening the indignation of the world at large, at 
of Christians generally, against him. Much less can it Im 
done by any body, and every body, who takes it into his head 
positively to decide the question, and to tell God and the 
world, that such and such persons are unconverted. I do q 
believe, whatever may be the elfcct upon the individual ti 
named, that God will regard such a prayer in any other Ij 
than as that of a proud, self-righteous Pharisee. 

There is another interesting topic that lies near my hell 
but the time would fail me to express my views and feelili 
on the subject. That holy, humble, meek, modest, retiri 
Form, sometimes called the Spirit of Prayer, and wbicl 
have ever regarded as the unfailing precursor of a revival 
religion, has been dragged from her closet, and ao nidi, 
handled by some of her professed friends, that she has fl 
only lost all her wonted loveliness, but is now stalking t] 
streets in some places stark mad. 

Some, in their zeal on the subject of the prayer of faith, 
are tormenting others with their peculiar sentiments, which, 
if correct, every body sees must equally condemn them- 
selves ; thus rendering ihcmselvcs and their senlimeiilii pet- 
fectly ridiculous. 

I nave given you but an imperfect sketch of my own and 
the views of our brethren abroad on this subject ; but I as- 
sure you, as a whole, it is not overdrawn. How to correct 



aemuij, 
ressifw^g 

iracl^H 



19 

these growing evils, I cannot tell. Our brethren, far and 
near, some of Brother Finney^s best friends^t the West not 
excepted, by letter and otherwise, have lon% been urging me 
to lay the subject fully before him. The evils which have ex- 
isted abroad have certainly been very much concealed from 
him and his friends. It is certainly right that he should know 
something of the evils which have run from under him ; and 
the feelings of the friends of Zion at large. I have nothine 
to say to him in the style of crimination or controversy. I 
have been too long on the field of battle to be frightened 
about little things, or to make a man an oiTender for a word. 
For Zion^s sake, I wish to save Brother Finney from a course 
which I am confident will greatly retard his usefulness before 
he knows it It is no reflection on his talents or piety, that, 
in his zeal to save souls, he should adopt every measure 
which promises present success, regardless of consequences ; 
nor, after a fair experiment in so noble a cause, to say, I have 
pushed some thines beyond what they will bear. The most 
useful lessons are learned by experience. 

I wish I had health and strength to show Brother Finney 
my whole heart on this subject. I have long been wishing to 
correct some of his peculiarities, that I might invite him into 
my own field and introduce him to my friends. Aside from 
feeble health, one consideration only has prevented me from 
making the attempt. Some of his particular friends are urg- 
ing him on to the very things which I wish him to drop. I 
fear that their flattering representations will overrule all that 
I can say. And having dropped these peculiarities, his la- 
bours for a while might be less successful ; and then he would 
resort again to the same experiment. But I can inform him, 
that the same measures which he has adopted, have been vi- 
gorously and obstinately pursued in New-England, against 
the repeated advice of settled Pastors, and that too, by one 
of the most powerful and successful ministers that I have 
ever known, until, confident of his own strength, he quit 
them all, with this expression, "We will see who will answer 
by fire'^ — a most unhappy expression, as he afterwards told 
me with tears. The result was, he lost his usefulness in our 
denomination. Some of his spiritual children, now excellent 
men in the ministry, have never dared to adopt his measures, 
but have uniformly opposed them. Others, some ministers 
and laymen, who followed him, became disorganizers ; and 
the leader himself turned Baptist, and soon after died. 

There is another method of conducting revivals, which 
may avoid these difiiculties. Settled Pastors occupy nearly 
the whole field of operation. They have, and ou^ht to have, 
the entire management in their own congregation. Each 






one has a riglit to pursue liis owu measures, wiUiin bis own 
limits; and no itinerant has any busiiiess to interfere or die* 
late. It will cAfr be regarded as intertncddling to other' 
men's mattera. ». If they do not choose to invite me into iha "" 
field, my business is meekly and bilently to retire. And 
have no right to complain. But many young men are con- 
tinually violating the rules of ministerial order and ChristiBii 
propriety in these respects. Impatient to seethe temple rise, 
Ihey are now doing that, which, it appears to 'me, will tend 
ultimately, more than any thing else, to defeat the end which 
they wish to accomplish. They are notv pulling down in 
many places, the very things which I have been helping mi- 
nisters to build up ; and for which 1 have often received their 
warmest thanks, it is a sentiment which 1 have had fre- 
quent occasion to repeat to my young bretliren in the minis- 
try, " Better forego the prospect of much prcitent good, tn 
your own opinion, than ,to lose the conBdcnce of settled mi- 
nisters, without which you cannot be long and extensivelj 
useful," 

There is, certainly, another and a lawful point of attack ot} 
the kingdom of darkness, which, when you have taken, and 
it is seen, possesses wonderful advantages. It will give no 
olfence to the church of God, It will be sure to rally around 
you every faithful soldier of the cross. Though it may n 
too slow and silent in its operation, yet, being the lawful 
thod of conducting this warfare, it will secure the confident 
of ministers and Christian!), the consciences of tlie wicki 
and a crown of glory. 

And now. Brother, 1 have ventured to lay before you the 
subject of my prayers and tears, and I may add, the subject 
which brought me back to a region which I never expecte4^. 
to visit again. If you discover any tiling in this communi 
tion uRchiistlan or unkind, you will pardon it. If, in y< 
opinion, it can do no mischief, or will do any possible good|] 
you arc at full liberty to show it to Brother Finney, or taf 
the friends of Zion whom it may concern. We wilt lu ' 
subject at tlio feet of our Divine Master, and there will 
leave it. 

Yours, in tlic beat of bonds, 

ASAHEL NETTLETOA. 



New-York^ December 6, 1827. The above letter was n 
ten sometime last December, immediately af^cr a second ii 



nc* 

her^H 

lei^^H 

dfH 

otw-^H 



seem^H 
ilmtg^H 

ick^^ 



I 



21 

terview willi Mr. Finney. From personul conversation wiUi 
teoBcIf, but more particularly with his friends, I learned that 
yb/Bj had adopted and defended measures whicli I have ever 
Regarded as exceedingly calamitous to the cause of revivals. 
- This letter was written originally as an expression of mj 
^own and the views of my brethren generally on this subject, 
tvithout intending to send it to any one. As my opinion was 
repeatedly solicited on this subject by the friends of Mr. F. 
I tiiought it best to give it in writing. Accordingly this let- 
ter was read at different times to not less than twenty minis- 
ters, and to some who had adopted the measures in question. 
Id this silent manner I laboured for a number of weeks, 
hoping to persuade the latter to drop them ; but to my sur- 
prise, I found that my own name was continually employed 
to give them sanction ; nor was it in my power to prevent 
Ibis perversion, without publishing my views to the world. 

It was concluded that the subject of these new measures, 
iinlcBs they were speedily corrected, must sooner or later 
come before the Christian public ; and as all the ministers 
who had tdndly attempted to interfere to correct them, as. 
ruinous to revivals, had so long and so often bad their motives 
impeached and misrepresented, and been denounced aa cold, 
uid stupid, and dead, that they had now ceased to do it ; it 
was also concluded, that by this time, our Western brethren 
might possibly be ignorant of the views and feelings of the 
Christian community on this subject. Their long silence 
might be misconstrued into an acquiescence in those mea- 
sures. It was well known, however, that Kew-England as s 
body, and also the Presbyterian Church as a body, as well as 
the friends of revivals in genera), would not defend the mea- 
sures in question, nor be responEiblc for any of the evils which 
Ihey would certainly occasion. 

As preparatory to pub[isiiing,and tociitofl'occasion for after 
complaints, it was thought best that 1 should delay no longer 
sending a communication to some one or more of our bre- 
thren in the Oneida Presbytery. The above " document" is 
one, and only a small part of what 1 have written to the mem- 
bers of that body. What I have done in laying the subject 
before tliem, was not done without the knowledge and ap- 
probation of the Watchmen of Israel — the long — the tried— 
the acknowledged friends of Zion. 

The question has often been asked, " Why did not Mr. N. 
tell Mr. F. his views before he published them to the world ?" 
I have done it in as gentle a manner on paper as I knew how 
to do it. And I leave it to nil the friends of Zion whether I 
could have chosen a better method. 

The report is in extensive circulation, that "Mr. F, ha 




(ong been wisine to see Mr. N., and that he was willing to sit 
at his feet and Team,*' — This honour, or which I am unwof' 
thy, I would have gladly declined, had it been in my power. 
If, however, hia " wishing to sit at my feet and learn," was 
not an after-device to justify himself in correcting nothing, he 
will not say that I have not taken some care and pains to in- 
struct him. One lesson which was given him is the aboTe 
letter, which, having been sent to Utica, was duly received, 
and laid before him and a number of his friends. The paful 
who should tell " how willing he was to learn," and complain 
to his neighbours that his teacher would not instnict him, 
would excite httle sympathy with the public, if it were known 
that he was at the same time carrying his lesson in his 
pocket. 

After consultation, some advised to conceal it. But this 
could not be done. And now in January, for the first time, 
Mr. P. preached his Sermon in Utica, from these words, 
" How can two walk together except they be agreed ?" 

It was afterwards preached in Troy. Some who have 
talked and written so knowingly on the Sermon, as though 
Troy were its birth-place, need to be informed that they ha?e 
travelled out of the " record." I do not state this because I 
have adopted their opinion that the contents of a Sermon 
professedly on the subject of vital piety, cannot be well ud- 
derstood without a knowledge of its origin. 

But some who were present and heard the Sermon in 
Utica, were simple enough to consider it as a personal attack 
upon the author of this letter. I was immediately informed 
by persons who were present and heard both the letter and 
the Sermon, that probably nothing would be corrected — and 
that arrangements would be made accordingly. 

"Though Mr. F. "blazed" and "burned" in his SermoDi 
as I was informed, yet 1 did not feel at all " ofiended/' 

But soon the mournful tidings reached my ears, "Mr.Xet- 
tleton has lost his mind" — " He is not the man he once was" 
— " His character has sunk wonderfully" — " The lies came 
from hell, and the smoke from the bottomless nit," Hov 
these reports were set in circulation, I did not take the tron* 
ble to ask. I can still repeat the language of my iclter, " I 
have been too long on the field of battle to be frightened with 
little things, or to make a man an offender for a word. For 
Zion's sake I wish to save Brother F. from a couise which I 
am con6dent will greatly retard his usefulness before he 
knows it." 

Had the friends of the new measures been kind enough to 

inform us of their determination not to renounce them, it 

' might have saved their brethren much painful anxiety and 



03 

many fruitless exertions. But let thenv no longed lise (he 
names of their brethren to sanction measures which they 
have always utterly condemned. They have fiill liberty to 
introduce them in their own names and on their own respon- 
sibility. 

For one I feel bound by all the solemnity attached to the 
ministerial office, to declare to the Watchmen of Israel my 
views of the danger of these measures, and in this public and 
decided manner to clear my conscience from lending my 
name to sanction their past, their present, or their future ca- 
lamitous consequences. And the friends of these new mea- 
sures are invited and earnestly solicited to come out with 
their names and their defence in this same public and decided 
manner. 

I had long since a copy of this letter corrected for the 
press. But to cut oif occasion for complaint, I publish it en- 
tire without those corrections. It has been publicly charged 
in the Western Recorder with containing false statements. 
As this is a little out of order, the public will excuse me for 
not replying to an unknown charge brought by an unknown 
" Traveller.'' 

He complains, that '^ the public have been kept in dark- 
ness long enough.'' I think so too. There are a number of 
such "Travellers" for whose sake I send out this letter, 
hoping to shed some light on their path. 

A. rim. 



Extract of a Letter from Oneida County ^ Sept. 6, ItSiT. 

Mr. Finney's sermon, according to the best information I 
have, was preached at Utica last winter, soon after the re- 
ception of Mr. Neltleton's letter to Mr. Aikin. In that let- 
ter Mr. Nettleton had pointed out, in a very friendly manner, 
certain irregularities, which he described as running out from 
under Mr. Finney into various parts of the country, and 
which Mr. Nettleton and ministers generally, consider as ca- 
lamitous in their tendency, and adapted to do great injury to 
the cause of revivals. The object of the letter did not ap- 
pear to criminate Mr. Finney, of whom it speaks kindly, and 
for whom it apologises, but to point out to himself and his 
most influential friends, in order to their being corrected, 
such things as, if suflered to proceed, must greatly injure his 
usefulness. Many ministers and Christians m this region had 



\ 



'^ u 



24 

seen tilings of tlie same general nature as tkoEc meotionecl 
ill thai letter, and had occasionally made them the subject of 
animadversion, in private conversation, but of no direct pubr l 
lie discussion from the press, previous to the publication «( J 
llie sermon. It was well understood, however, tliat thonv 
were many things accompanying the revivals in this region, 
of which ministers and Christians, as well as others, were dis- 
posed to complain ; for which complaints, those ministers 
and Christians had btsen ariaigocd before the world in the 
Western Recorder, and severe^ censured, as for their cold- 
ness and opposition, and taking sides with the enemy. The 
sermon was afterwards preached in Troy, I am informed, 
while a complaint was before the Presbytery there, and jet 
undecided, which related to similar things which were mat- 
ters of difficulty in that place. The preaching and prindng 
of the sermon, under these circumstances, when taken in 
connexion with its contents, cannot leave a doubt, I tliink, 
on (be mind of any impartial reader, that it was designed as 
a Tindication of the things complained of, and such a vindica- 
tion too, as, if judged sufficient, would and must condemn 
aU those ministers and Christians who complained, as being 
like the impenitent In their moral feelings, " itnlking with the 
ungodly, because they are agreed," ]t being considered that 
these circumstances were all well known to Mr. Nettleton 
when he wrote his remarks, and that the sermon pronouncet 
so severe a condemnation upon the great body of revival mi- 
nisters in our country, and gives such advice to their people 
to " shake off their sleepy ministers," as is adapted to encou- 
rage every disorganizing measure which any enthusiast might 
be disposed to adopt, it seems strange to me that any friend 
of pure revivals should be backward to acknowledge his ob- 
ligations to Mr. Nettleton for those remarks, or to coosiddc^l 
them as unduly severe. And I am especially surprised tbst^| 
any who know these circumstances should represent them as ^ 
an unprovoked personal attack, or consider liiem in any other 
light than as the temperate and appropriate defence of a 
large majority of the ministers and Christians of our country 
against the unfounded and injurious charges contained in that 
sermon, by the lucid exposure of the false principle on which 
the whole of them are built, and by which they are attempted 
to be supported. 

I think tliat those who arc for stopping the discussion, are 
in a mistake respecting the true policy in the case. I think 
much of Cotton Mather''^ warning : " There was a town call- 
ed Amycite, which was ruined by silence. The rulers, be- 
cause there had been some false alarms, forbade all people, 
under pain of dcuth, to speak of any enemies apptoocbiog 



25 

them: go, when the enemies came indeed, no man durst 
apeak of it, and the town waa lost. Corruptions will grow | 
npon the iand, and they will gain by silence. It will be so ] 
invidious to do it, no man will dare to speak of the corrup- 1 
tioDs ; and the fate of Amyclae will come upon the land." 



Remarlts of Mr. Nelthton on a Sermon fry fi^"- ■^^f"- Finney. 



I 



The following remarks were communicated in a letter 
from Mr. Nettleton to the Rev. Dr. Spring, of New-York, 
and published in the Observer. They appear somewhat se- 
vere, but we have such confidence in the prudence and bet- 
ter judgment of the writer, that we have no doubt that he 
thought them necessary. 

Durham, N. Y. May 4lA, 1897. 

My dear Brother — 1 have read Brother Finney's gcrnton' 
from the words, "How can two walk together escept they 
be agreed V The principle on which it rests, is contained in' 
the following sentences : 

" If any thing, even upon the same subject, that is fat' 
above or below our tone of feeling, is presented ; ,and if' 
our affections remain the same, and refuse to be enlisted and; 
brought to that point, we must feel uninterested, and pcrhai 
grieved and offended. If the subject be exhibited in a ligl 
that is below our present tone oi feelings, we cannot be ii 
terested until it come up to our feelings ; if this docs not 
take place, we necessarily remain uninterested. If the sub 
ject be presented in a manner that is far above our tone of^ 
feeling, and our affections grovel and refuse to rise, it doei 
not fall in with and feed our affections : therefore we cannot 
be interested ; it is enthusiasm to us, we are displeased with 
the warmth in which our affections refuse to participate; 
and the farther it is above our temperature, the more are we 
disgusted. These arc truths to which the experience of 
every man will testify, as Ihey hold good upon every subjec 
and under all circumstances, and are founded upon principli 
that are incorporated with the very nature of man." 

Now all this, so far as Christians and tnte religion are con- 
cerned, I take to be false in theory, contrary to fact, and 
dangeroofl in its conaeqaencea. Present to tiie mind of toff* 



we 
of ■ 




wiU 



I 



Christian, whose holiness and flaming zeal shall equal that of 
Paul, the least degree of holiness in any saint, and he wiU 
not be ofTended, but interested. He would be greatly deligl " 
ed with even " babes in Christ," And ibe liighPr the tone 
his piely and holy leeling, the greater will be bis delight c 
" upon the same subject." Now raise the lone of pious fi 
ing up to tiiat of ihe spirits of just men made perfect, and 
holy angels, and still they will not lose their interest, " even 
upon the same subject." They will rejoice even over one 
sinner that repenteth, far more than will those whose feel- 
ings fall to the level of the penitent himself. 

Nor is it true that Christians are always better pleased 
with those, whose tone of feeling is on a level willi their 
own. The least saint on earth loves holiness in others, and 
rejoices in their growth in grace. And he loves those inost 
whose tone of holy feeling is raised farthest above hitn ; and 
for the same reason he loves the Saviour more than all. 
Every child of God, who reads his bible, is far better pleased 
with the high-toned piely of Job and Daniel and David and 
Isaiah and Paul, than be is with that of other saints, whose 
piety falls below theirs, or to the level his own. What Chris- 
tian can read the memoirs of Edwards and Brainard without 
deep interest ? I know of do Chrii^tian that docs not read 
them with far greater interest than he would have done ' 
they exhibited far less of the spirit of Chrisliantly. 
though Christians feel condemned by their high-toned pietj 
vol for this very reason ihey arc not " offended and grieved, 
nut love them the more. Though Christians are not up to 
the toneof piety exhibited by David and Paul, Edwards and 
Brainard, yet they are highly delighted, and could walk to- 
gether wiih them. 

Again: lake ihe example of our Saviour, No Christii 
on earth is better pleased with any other. Though many 
his friends have died and gone to heaven whom he still lov< 
yet the Christian can say, " Whom have 1 in heaven bi 
thee, and there is none upon earth thai 1 desire besit' 
thee." The tone of the Saviour's pious and holy feeling 
certainly raised far above that of all his followers. HenceT 
according to the sentiment of the sermon, he could have had 
no followers while on earth, and can have none now. All 
his disciples must have been " displeased with his warmth." 
And the higher it rose " above their temperature, the more 
they must have been diagusted.^'' 

Present to the mind of the Christian the holy character of 
God. Is not this subject far nbove ihe tone of the feelings 
of anj^ manT Now, according to the sentiment of the ser- 
mon. if our affections are not broughtto that point, we mast 



27 

feel ^'uninterested — ^grieved and offended/' AceoWRng to 
the principle of his own sermon, Brother Finney and his 
friends cannot walk with God, for they are not agreed. It 
must be acknowledged that God has an infinitely higher tone 
and degree of holy feeling than Brother Finney. He is 
not " up to it." Consequently, on his own principles, they 
cannot be agreed. God is displeased with him, and he 
with God. Brother Finney must " necessarily'^^ be dis- 
pleased with that high and holy zeal in his Maker, which 
so infinitely transcends his own : — and the " farther it 
is above his temperature, the more he will be diggusted.^^ 
" These are truths," he observes, " to which the experience 
of every man will testify, as they hold good upon every sub' 
ject and under all circumstances, and are founded upon prin- 
ciples that are incorporated with the very nature of man." 

Besides : it will follow from his own reasoning, that Bro* 
ther Finney and those Christians whom he denounces as 
" cold, stupid, and dead," actually agree better than himself 
and his Maker. For the tone of his own feelings is more on a 
level with that of these stupid Christians, than with the holiness 
of his Maker. Hence, as he more resembles, he must be bet- 
ter pleased with stupid Christians, than with the Holy Lord 
God. Hence, too, he must love them more than his Maker ; 
that is, he must love the " creature more than the Creator, 
who is over all, God blessed for ever." 

On the principle of this sermon, it is impossible to love 
God supremely. The Christian will love those imperfect be- 
ings best, who most resemble himself; angels still less, and 
God the least of all. So much for the foundation of this ser- 
mon. 

On the principles of the Gospel, the following is strictly 
true : It is an acknowledged fact that Christians love Gt)d 
supremely, the infinite disparity between the tone of their holy 
and pious feelings notwithstanding. Hence, secondly, Chris- ^ 
tians will love those Christians most, who have the most of 
holiness and true zeal : for, the more there are of these, the 
more they see and admire the image of God in them. 
Hence, thirdly. Christians will love those revivals best, which 
have the most of God and true Christian zeal in them ; for 
true zeal can never rise higher than holy love, and a due pro- 
portion and exercise of all the Christian graces. Hence, fourth- 
ly, the more pure revivals are, the more they will unite the 
hearts of all the true disciples of Christ ; for the more pure 
revivals are, the more lively will be the exercise, and the more 
just the proportion of the Christian graces ; and eonsequent- 
Iv, the greater the fellowship among the saints.. Henca, 
nfthly, Cnristians who are really awake to the worth of souhv 






I 



and whose graces are in lively exercise, will be extremely 
careful not to excite needless oppoEitton among saints and 
sinners ; lest tliey should divide the former, and drive tlie )at 
ter to a returnless distance from the Gospel. The wakcfu 
preacher will be extremely aolicitouB to give to the work 
pure and lovely character, to enstamp the Image of Christ- 



1 



He will not dash on, regardless of remote consequences ; but 
his vigilance and extreme caution will resemble that of the 
painter when he said, " I am painting for eternity." 

What gives this subject a peculiar interest in my mind is 
this consideration, — that the parties named in the inspired 
text on which the sermon is founded, are not saints and sin- 
ners, nor warm and cold hearted Cluistians. But the text 
itself means, primarily, God and man. Uow can a holy God 
and sinful man walk together except they be agreed? 
Though God is inlinitely holy, and man a vile worm, yet 
they can so agree as to walk together on earth. This is 
commanded : " Walk before me, and be thou perfect" — 
" What dolh the Lord require of thee, but to walk hutabif 
with thy God?" Now this would be impossible for mao o~ 
. angeb, on the principle]of the sermon. "Enoch wal' 
with God," and so docs every saint and babe ui Christ ; 
not on the principle that the tone of his hohness is up to tl 
of his Maker. The Bible enjoins growth in grace, and t 
cognises different degrees of holiness in the saints on ear^- 
Now, on the principle of tliis sermon, they cannot walk tm 
gether. Those who bear the most fruit must separate then^^ 
selves from all others, because they are not up to their stao^ 
dard ; and so they must all be divided, accorduig to theitl 
standing. For how can two walk together except thejr coma f 
up to the same tone of feeling I On Brother Finney's prinQ; 
y ''pic, it is impossible to keep the unity of the spirit in the b 
I of peace. There is no union between Christ and his m 
\ bers, and no fellowship of the Spirit. But according to tl 
' Bible, true religion is the same in all. That " Wisdom wbiq| 
is from above, tirst pure, then peaceable, gentle, easy to \ 
entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, .without partiality m 
without hypocrisy," isjuslified of oii her children. "But if g 
have bitter envying and strife in your hearts, glory not B 
lie not against the truth;" "This wisdom descendeth ii 
trom above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish." " For wlu 
envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil worli. 
It docB not require the same tone of holy fochng to produtj 
harmony in the household of faith. There i.iay be cnorda jj' 



S9 

music, though some notes fall far below others. *^ And imdj 
ouL^j^Uowship is with the Father, and with his Sod Jesiks 

There is fellowship among Christians, and unity of the- 
Spirit, while some are far more holy and humble than others. 
This is correct in theory, and accords with fact. Even the 
Son of God, with all his burning zeal, never preached or. 
prayed in such a manner as to onend one of his little chil* 
dren. (Luke xvii. 1, 2.) 

The standard which Brother Finney has erected by which 
to judge of the propriety of measures, is that saying of Ed- 
wards, to " do what he thought proper in his best frcanes.^'* 
Before he can plead the example of Edwards, Brother Finney 
must make the same distinction which Edwards has done» 
between true and false zeal — true and false affections, — ^lest 
himself and his hearers should make a fatal mistake by se- 
lecting the worst frames of the Christian or hypocrite as their 
example. This mistake has often been made. It was made 
by Davenport and his followers, as he afterwards confessed. 
According to the Bible and Edwards, the Christianas ^^ best 
frame,^^ is when he has the most exalted views of God, and 
the lowest of himself; when he has the most of the graces of 
the Spirit in harmonious and lively exercise ; — when he has 
the most of the ^^ spirit, the meekness and gentleness of 
Christ ;" — when he has the least of " God, I thank thee," and 
the most of " God, be merciful unto me a sinner." Again : 
the " best frame" of a preacher, according to the Bible and 
Edwards, is when he has the most of the same graces in live- 
ly exercise, and is most '^ vigilant," most ^^ gentle unto all 
men," and most willing to '^ become all things to all men, if 
by all means he might save some," — " in meekness instruct- 
ing those that oppose themselves," — " and when he combines 
most of the wisdom of the serpent with the harmlessness of 
the dove." 

^' Ministers should be like Uons to guiltv consciences, but 
like lambs to men^s persons. The amiable, Christ-like con- 
versation of such ministers, in itself would terrify the con- 
sciences of men. If there had been constantly and univer- 
sally observed such a behaviour as this in itinerant preachers, 
it would have terrified the consciences of sinners ten times as 
much as all the invectives and censorious talk there has been 
concerning particular persons for their opposition, hypocrisy, 
delusion, and Pharisaism." These, according to the Bible 
and Edwards, are the " best frames" of the preacher. But» 
on the principle that the tone of his holiness must equal that 
of his Maker, no man can think himself to be in a ^' good 
frame," without having very low thoughts of God, or very 



I 
I 



exalted thoughts of himself, or both. This, according to tht 
aertnon, is the " bast frame," According to his own serihdiL,' 
Brother Finney must l.ave very low thoughts of God's'li&n- 
ness, or very high thoughts of his own, or both ; or he must, 
■think hioiielf in a very "bad frame; for "How can two! 
■walk together except they be agreed V Is this the scale oi^ 
which Brother FLaney is labouring to raise others to the tone 
of his own (eelingsT 

Were not t'.ie subject too solemn, I would ask Brother Fia« 
ney howhigli he has ascended, and howmanyhe seesabove^ 
and how many below him, and at which company he feel* 
:the most " grieved and offended." This scale is no neiT 
thing. [See 2 Cor. x. 12.] From such a frightful measure- 
ment, Pnul and his company stood aloof On this principle, 
every real Christian must give up his hope, and none but hy- 
pocrites, or those much inflated with spirilual pride, would 
4lare take the comfort of the sermon to themselves ; and it 
can never be made to vindicate any thing but false zeal, false 
affections, and spurious conversions of every kind, Brolhw- 
Finney's heart must be better than his head, or he is labour-^ 
ing under an awful delusion. 

The sermon in question entirely overlooks the nature 
tme religion. It says not one word, by which we can dia^ 
tinguish between true and false zeal, true and false rcligioaJ 
Indeed it does not seem to hint that there can bo any such 
thing as false zeal and false religion. If the tone of feeling': 
can only be raised to a certain pitcli, then all is well. The; 
selfrighteous, the hypocrite, and all who are inflated with 
pride, wilt certainly be flattered and pleased with such an 
exhibition ; especially if they be very self-righteous and very 
proud. False affections often rise far higher than those t&at 
are genuine : and this every preacher, in seasons of revival, 
has Had occasion to observe and correct. And the reason of 
their great height is obvious. There are no salutary checks 
of conscience — no holy, humble exercises, to counteract them 
in their flight. And they court observation. " A Pharisee's 
trumpet shall be heard to the town's end, when simplicity 
walks through the town unseen." If the preacher is not ex- 
tremely careful to distinguish between true and false affec- 
tions, the Devil will certainly come in and overset and bring 
the work into disgrace. False zeat and overgrown spiritual 
pride will rise up and take the management, and condemn 
meekness and humility, and trample upon all the Christian 
graces, because they are not " up to it." 

Matters of fact which have passed under my own observa- 
^on, might serve as illustration. I have often seen it; and. 



m 

rh ^ 



I 



31 

the preacher who hus not been tried with this subject, and 
learned to correct it, has not got his first lesson. 

Leaving out of the question the nature of true religion, aa 
Brother Finney has done out of his sermon, there is a sense 
in which his theory perfectly accords with experience and 
matters of fact. So far as false zeal and false affections are 
concerned, the principle of the sermon is correct. A. and B. 
are very zealous, and extremely self-righteous ; and being 
equally so, they can walk together, for they are agreed! 
Both having come up to the same tone of feeling with Bro- 
ther Finney in his sermon^— now they are all agreed, and all 
pleased, having done all that the preacher required. Now 
the zeal of A. "strikes far above the tone of feeling" in his 
fellow, and both are "displeased, grieved, and offended." 
B. does not come to the tone of A. and " therefore he cannot 
be interested ; it is enthusiasm — he is displeased with the 
warmth in which his adections refuse to participate ; and the 
farther it is above his temperature, the more he is disgusted.'* 
The Christian and the hypocrite may come up to the same 
tone of feeling ^ and yet they cannot walk together, for 
other reasons. The character of their affections differs as 
widely as light and darkness. And the higher their affections 
rise, the wider the distance between them. And no tone or 
degree of feeling can possibly bring them together. Every 
effort of the preacher to unite them by raising the tone of 
feeling, will only increase the difficulty. This, too, accords 
with experience and matters of fact. Hence, those who 
adopt the same creed, and belong to the same communion, 
can have no fellowship. Though they are up to the same 
tone of feeling, and feel deeply^ yet they cannot walk toge- 
ther, for they do not feel alike. Feelings which are not 
founded on correct theology cannot be right. They must 
necessarily be spurious, or merely animal. 

Without great care and close discrimination, the preacher 
will unwittingly justify all the quarrels and divisions in our 
churches. The church at Corinth valued themselves on their 
great spirituality, and high attainments in religion. Now on 
the principle of the sermon in question, their divisions and 
quarrels could be no evidence to the contrary, but much in 
their favour. Each one esteeming others worse than himself, 
would conclude that the whole difficulty lay in their not com- 
ing up to the tone of his own feelings. And this sermon 
would .have confirmed them all in their good opinion of them- 
selves. But Paul told them that the very contrary was true, 
" For whereas there is among you envying, and strife, and di- 
visions, are yet not carnal, and walk as men.'' Without ^he 
same care, the preacher will condemn others for keeping the 




I 



unity of the spirit in the bond of peace ; end for "being ot' 
one accord and of one mind." That peace^ and harmony, 
and order, in which Paul so mnch rejoiced, will be disturbed 
and broken and Irampled upon, by disorganizing Kpi- 
ritual pride, under a pretence tliat all are " cold, and carnal, 
and stupid, and dead, and not up to the spirit of the times." 
All who are thus inflated, will take the advantage of this ser- 
mon, and be sure to construe all opposition to ihetr own dis- 
organizing movements and measures, into an evidence ol 
superior piety in themselves. And all false converts, and 
others inflated with spiritual pride, will join them if great 
care be not taken to discriminate between true and false zeal, 
and to give the distinguishing marks of both. Spiritual pride 
will often court opposition, and glory in it, and sometimes 
adopt the sentiment, "The more opposition the better." 

Anumbcr of examples might be given as illustration. One 
man has been for some time past under process of disci- 
pline for the following offence : In his great zeal for a revi- 
val, at a public meeting, among other things, he called hb 
excellent pastor the " head Achan," and said that " hia cha- 
racter was as black as AeH." Though he has nothing ogajost 
bis minister, yet he justifies himself entirely on the principle 
of the sermon in question ; and says that " he did it to hare 
a revival," — not even suspecting that there can be any sia'" 
thing as false zeal and overgrown spiritual pride, leading hi 
to adopt measures which every humble Christian and ul tl 
true friends of revivals will certainly condemn. The reaiU 
is an unanimous vote of excommunication. " 

In the course of the trial this fact has been cicarif deflj 
loped : that the character of the religious excitement whirf 
he wishes to promote, is just such as all the church and 1 
the revival ministers of my acquaintance, would deploi 
the greatest calamity. 

All who are acquainted with the history of facts OD I 
subject, know that it was on the principles of the sermon B 
question, that the revival was run out in the time of EdwanV 
and in Kentucky and Tennessee rising of twenty yctl 
since. And all those ministers who do not discriminate N 
tween true and false zeal, true and false affections, in th^ 
preaching and conversation, and make that difference t 
hold it up to the view of the world, if possible, clear Ss l] 
sun, heartily approving of the one, and as heartily and puU 
licly condemning the other, will turn out to be the grestest 
traitors to Uie cause of revivals. They become responsible 
not only for (he sentiment in question, but also for all the 
corruptions which prevail in consequence of this neglect 
The neglect of ministers to correct these evils for fear of d4- 



33 

ing mil chief, or of being denounced as carnal and cold-heart- 
ed, or as' enemies to revivals, is extremely puerile and wick- 
ed. On the same principle they must not attempt to correct 
intemperance and profane swearing in church members, lest 
they should be ranked among the wicked as infidels and en- 
emies to Christianity. The sentiment in question would, if 
carried out into all its consequences, defend every abomina- 
tion in religion that could be named. It would soon come 
to this : that the only evidence that ministers are cold, and 
carnal, and stupid, and dead, is, that they cannot approve of 
every art, and trick, and abominable practice in laymen, wo- 
men, and children, in their attempts to promote a revivaL 
And their approbation of all these abominations, would be 
taken as a good sign and as an evidence that the^ are awake. 
Whereas none but carnal and cold-hearted ministers would 
be influenced by such mean motives. It is only a trick of 
the Devil, to frighten the watchman of Israel firom his post, 
that he may get possession of it himself; or, what he would 
like still better, by such base motives to entoil and enlist him 
in his service, by compelling him to adopt his own measures. 
So did not Paul. His two epistles to the Corinthians con- 
tain little else than an humbling disclosure of abominable 
practices and quarrels about men and measures in promotinff 
a revival. So did not Edwards. Though he was denounced 
at first, he could not be frightened -, but frightened his de- 
nouncers, some of them at least, into a public recantation. 
A denouncing spirit is that with which real Christians have 
no fellowship, and are bound to shun. 

Without regard to the admonition, " take heed to thyself,^ 
the preacher will be in danger of trampling upon the Divine 
direction, ^^ In meekness instructing those that oppose them- 
selves." 

'^ The servant of the Lord must not strive, but be gentle 
unto all men." Be kindly affectioned, be pitifiil, be courte- 
ous." He will be in great danger of condemning the 
" meekness and gentleness of Christ," under the names of 
** carnal policy" and " hypocritical suavity of manner." The 
preacher should be extremely cautious what he says against 
** wisdom and prudence," as a mark of '^ pufiing up" in his bre- 
thren ; lest he trample upon the authority of his Divine Mas- 
ter, in the precept given him upon the same point : — ^*^ Behold 
I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves : be yc 
therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves." His pre- 
cept is founded on the fact that wicked men may become 
more ofiended with what is wrong in manner, than with what 
is right in matter. Hence the preacher may lose their con- 
sciences, and the Devil has gained the victory. If the wick- 

5 



I 

I 
I 
I 



34 

od wSl oppose, it becomes us to be careful how we funiuh 
them with successful weapons against us. If we regard the 
direction of Christ, even though ihey rage, we may still keep 
our hold upon their consciences ; and so long as we can do 
this, we need not despair of the victory. But when the 
preacher has lost the wisdom of the serpent and the harmless- 
ness of the dove, the contest will end in a sham-fight, and the 
sooner he quits the iield the better. 

Paul would allow none to beteachers btit those of "full 
age, who by reason of use have their senses exercised to du- 
cem both good and evil." Hence he would not license 
young converts to preach. " Not a novice, lest being lifted 
up with pride he fall into condemnation, reproach, and the 
snare of the devil." So far as his message was concerned, 
the apostle himself went forth, " saluting no man by the way" 
— " not as pleasing men." Aside from the simple truth of 
that message, no man was ever more yielding and flexible in 
manner and measures. " Give no offence, neither to the 
Jews, neither to the Gentiles, nor to the church of God." 
" Even as / please all men in all things — that they may " 
saved." "I am made all things to all men, that 1 might 
all means save some." Was this "carnal policy"" 
was Paul " in a very cold state when he wrote that V _ 

The wisdom of the measures adopted and recommended 
by Paul, appeu from the fact that sinners may be more 
oflended with what is wrong in manner, than with what u 
right in matter. If the preacher docs not hold a bidanee 
between conscience and depravity, he can do nothing. The 
very fact that the unrenewed heart is so opposed to God and 
the Gospel, has by some been assigned as a reason for stirring 
up all its opposition. Whereas, aside from the simple exlu- 
bition of divine Initk, Paul adopted a method directly ibe op- 
posite. If the vigilance of human depravity should exceed 
the vigilance of the preacher in his manner and meaauroB, 
by this very means he will quiet the consciences of his hear- 
ers. Regardless of his manner, Paul would have lost hb hold 
on the consciences of sinners, and needlessly and wickedly 
have sent his hearers to a returnless distance from ,lhe Gos- 
pel. This made him exceedingly careful " lest he should hin- 
der the Gospel of Christ." Since mankind will oppose, we 
should be careful not to put weapons of successful defence 
into their hands. While they oppose, we should be careful 
to keep their consciences on our side. 

A powerful religious excitement badly conducted, has ever 
been considered by the most experienced ministers and best 
friends of revivals, to be a great calamity. Without close 
discrimination, an attempt to raise the tone of religious feel- 



od." 

1 




35 

ing will do infinite mischief. This wfts the m&nner of Atfee 
teachers. ^^ They zealously affect you, but not well/* It will 
be like that of Paul before his conversion, and like that of 
the Jews who were never converted, ^^ a zeal of God but not 
according to knowledge." The driving will become like the 
driving of Jehu, " Come see my zeal for the Lord." The 
storm, and earthquake, and fire, are dreadful : but God is 
not there. 

The design of these remarks is to show the infinite impor- 
tance of distinguishing between true and false zeal, — true 
and false affections. 

On reading the sermon in question, I was reminded of the 
repeated complaints which for some time past I have heard 
from the most judicious, experienced, and best revival minis- 
ters in the West ; the substance of which is as follows : 
^^ There are various errors in the mode of conducting revi- 
vals in this region, which ought to be distinctly pointed out. 
That on the prayer of faith. This talking to God as a man 
talks to his neighbour, is truly shocking — telling the Lord a 
long story about A. or B., and apparently with no other in- 
tent than to produce a kind of stage effect upon the indivi- 
dual in question, or upon the audience generally. This 
mouthing of words ; those deep and hollow tones, all indi- 
cative that the person is speaking into the ears of man, and 
not to God. I say nothing of the nature of the petitions of- 
ten presented; but the awful irreverence of the manner! 
How strange that good men should so far forget themselves, 
as evidently to play tricks in the presence of the great God." 

^^ I have often been struck with this circumstance in the 
mode of preaching, that nothing was heard of the danger of 
a spurious conversion. For months together, the thought 
never seemed to be glanced at, that there was any such thing 
as a Satanic influence in the form of religion, but only as 
openly waging war against all religion. Such a character as 
an enthusiastic hypocrite, or a self-deceived person, seemed 
never to be once dreamed of. The only danger in the way 
of salvation was coldness^ deadness^ and rank opposition. 
On no occasion did the eye ever seem to be turned to ano- 
ther quarter in the heavens." 

The last paragraph contains the thought to which I allude. 
The sermon in question bears striking marks of the same 
character. It is an important part of a preacher^s duty in 
a season of powerful revival, to discriminate between true 
and false conversion. Without this, every discerning Chris- 
tian knows that the work will rapidly degenerate. The most 
flaming spiritual pride will be taken for the highest moral ex- 
cellence, and will rise up and take the lead. 



I 



I 



3d 

Preachers who have not guarded well this avenue in sea- 
sons of powerful excitement, have always done more to ar- 
rest, and disgrace, and run out revivals, than all the cold- 
hearted professors and open enemies of religion together. It 
was thia neglect in some zealous preachers, that run out the 
revival in the days of Edwards, and which led him to wiite his 
Treatise on the Religious Afleclions. 

Edivards observes, " It is by the mixture of counterfeit re- 
ligion with true, not discerned and distinguished, that the 
Devil has had the greatest advantage against the kingdom 
of Christ. By this he prevailed against New-England lo 
quench the love and spoil the joys of her espousals, about an 
hundred years ago. By this the Devi! has prevailed against 
the late revival in New-England, so promising in ha begin- 
ning.* By this he has foiled ua, and the daughter of Zioti 
now lies on the ground. I have seen the Devil prevail in the 
same way against two revivals in this country." 

" After religion has revived in the church of God, and i 
emies appear, people that are engaged to defend its cadi 
are commonlj- most exposed where they are least senabttf 
danger. While they are wholly intent upon the oppoettM 
that appears openly before them, to make head against IhT 
and neglect carefully to look all around them, the Devi) cod 
behind them, and gives them a fatal stab unseen ; and hnaU 
opportunity to give a more home stroke, and wound t 
deeper, because he strikes at his leisure, and according (olf 
pleasure, being obstructed by no guard or resistaDce." 

" And so it IS likely ever to be in the church wbencvw r 
eion revives remarkably, tiH we have learned to dhtmg^ 
betw^een true and fidte religion, between saving aSeetHN 
and experiences, and those manifold fair shows, and glulei 
ing appearances, by which they are counterfeited ; the cot 
sequences of which, when they ore not distinguished, are «lF 1 
ten tnexpresfiblf/ dreadful. By this means, tlie I>evil |T>^ J 
ties himself, by bringing it to pass, that that should be onered 1 
to God, by multitudes, under a notion of a pleasing, acoeptr J 
able service to him, that is, indeed, above all things abam* 
nable to him. By this means he deceives great multhiu*' 



• Ho means (he rerival Id IT-IO, and una about 1637. tl b wcnttifn 
remark, that ever aincc Ibe timeorLullicr, tticrc bas beeD, once in about 
80 or too ^ean. a violciit assault of lliis kind upon llie dinrcti, whicli hii 
proved soocctiCul Id a considerable cxlpnt. Tliat iwriod isjuel aboul nt 
Ijciiint for those who have iTilae«scd one lucli event In piu off tlie M 
iviln llieir chiMren whobnve heard Ibeir fatboii UUil, and tkgwwn 
loarJMC. ignorant of ISaUu'e devices, against whom Ihey may beagaiim 
canfirully put in practice. 



37 

about the state of their souls ; making theqi think they are 
something, when they are nothing; and so eternally undoes 
them ; and not only so, but establishes many in a strong con* 
fidence of their emment holiness, who are in God's sight some 
of the vilest of hypocrites. By this means Satan brings it 
to pass, that men work wickedness under a notion of doing 
God service, and to sin without restraint, yea, with earnest 
JhrtDordness and zeal, and with all their might. By this 
means he tarings in even the friends of religion, insensibly to 
themselves, to do the work of enemies, by destroying religion 
in a far more effectual manner than open enemies can do, 
under a notion of advancing it. By this means the Devil 
scatters the flock of Christ, and sets them one against ano- 
ther, and that with great heat of spirit, under a notion of 
zeal for God ; and religion by degrees degenerates into vain 
jangling. And in the midst of this confusion, the Devil has 
great opportunity to advance his own interest, and make it 
strong in wavs mnumerable, and get the government of all 
into his own hands, and work his own will/' Thus much for 
Edwards. 

If ever there was a call for close discrimination between 
true and false zeal, true and false conversion, the subject of 
the sermon in question demanded it And without this <lis* 
crimination, the preacher could not touch the spirit of hia 
text, nor accomplish any important object For, the least 
spark of grace, the lowest tone of right feeling or true love, 
is in unison with the feelings of all the saints on earth, in hea- 
ven, and with those of God himself And possessing that 
love, they can all walk together. Whereas, whatever of 
eloquence or flaming zeal he might possess without it, Paul 
would pronounce himself ^^ nothing ;'' and with it, the least 
saint on earth an heir of everlasting salvation. 

It is of the highest importance that the preacher present 
to his hearers the distinraishing marks of true religion, the 
graces of the Spirit, in aH their native loveliness ; and at the 
same time, that he detect and expose every counterfeit 
Having done this, he may labour with all his might to bring 
them up to the highest possible tone. He may exhort them 
to the exercise of " Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentle- 
ness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance ; and to be kind- 
ly affectioned one to another, with brotherly love, in honour 
preferring one another. That they walk with all lowliness 
and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one another in 
love, endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the 
bond of peace. That they let nothing be done through 
strife, or vain glory, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem 
others better than themselves. Let all bitterness, and wrath,. 



. 1 



I 



I 



and anger, and clamour, and evil -speaking, be put away 
from you, with all malice. And be ye kind one to another, 
tender-hearted, forgiving one anotlier, even as God for 
Chrifit'ij sake hath forgiven you. Likewise ye younger, sub- 
mit yourselves unto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject 
one to another, and be clothed with humility." He may 
exhort them to " put on, as the elect of God, — and be cover- 
ed all over with these shining graces, — bowels of mercies, 
kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, long-suffering, for- 
bearing one another : even as Christ forgave you, so aUo do 
ye. — And above all things, put on charity, which is the bond 
of perfectncss," He may set their hearts all on fire with that 
heavenly Form — " so pure, ao peaceable, so gentle and easy 
to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without parti- 
ality and without hypocrisy :" — that is so " long-suHe ring, so 
kind, envieth not, is not puAed up, doth not behave itself un- 
seemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked ; think- 
eth no evil, rejoicoth not tn iniquity, but rejoiceth in the 
truth { beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all 
things, and never faileth." These are the prevailing charac- 
teristics of a revival of religion. Their absence cannot be 
compensated by flaming zeal. 

Nor is it sufficient that these and all other Christian 
graces be exhibited, and their counterfeit exposed in theory 
alone. For so hypocrites will claim them all as their own. 
Profession is not principle. " By their fruits ye ehall know 
them." " Who is a wise man ? Let him show out of a good 
conversation bis works with meekness of wisdom." -^— 

" Essj iiuteed it were to reach ^H 



The most important part of the preacher's duly is, to ex- 
hibit the evidence of their existence in the heart, by corres- 
ponding actions in the life. And this, too, by being " emain- 
ples to the flock ;" and by carefully copying the exaa^le 
of his Divine Master, " beseeching them by the meehutt 
gentlenegs of Christ," 

As the lime would fail me to complete the subject, 
wards may, in part, supply this deficiency in Brother Fil 
ney's sermon. I would therefore t:U;e this opportunity to n 
comtnend to all young converts a careful perusal of his ac- 
count of the revival in New-England, fourth part, and what 
he says on the marks of true humiUty and spiritual pride, of 
which the following is a brief abstract : ~ 

Spiritual pride disposes to speak much of the faults 



an g 



39 

t>ther8, and with bitterness, or with levity and an air of 
contempt. Pure Christian humility rather disposes to be si- 
lent about them, or to speak of them with grief and pity. 
Spiritual pride is very apt to suspect others ; an humble saint 
is most jealous of himself. The spiritually proud person is 
apt to find fault with others that are low in grace, and to be 
much in observing how cold and dead they be, and crying 
out of them and sharply reproving them for it. The humble 
Christian has so much to do at home, with his own heart, 
that he is not apt to be very busy with the hearts of others, 
and is apt to esteem others better than himself, and to take 
most notice of what is good in them, while he takes most no- 
tice of what is wrong in himself. In his clearest discoveries 
of God's glory, and in his most rapturous frames, he is most 
overwhelmed with a sense of his own vileness, and feels the 
deepest self-abasement. 

It is a mark of spiritual pride, when any are disposed to 
speak of what they sec amiss in others, in the most harsh, 
severe, and terrible language ; saying of their opinions, or 
conduct, or advice, of their coldness, their silence, their cau- 
tion, their moderation, and their prudence, that they are from 
the devilj or from hell ; that such a thing is devilish, or hellish, 
or cursed, and the like ; so that the words devil and hell are 
almost continually in their mouths. And especially, when 
such language is used towards ministers of the gospel, and 
others whose age or station entitles them to particular respect. 
Humility leads the Christian to treat others that are in fault 
with meekness and gentleness, as Christ did his disciples, and 
particularly Peter, when he had shamefully denied him. 

Spiritual pride disposes to affect singularity in manner and 
appearance, for the purpose of attracting observation. Hu- 
mility disposes the Christian to avoid every thing which is 
likely to draw upon him the observation of others, and to be 
singular only where he cannot be otherwise without the neg- 
lect of a plain and positive duty. Spiritual pride common- 
ly occasions a certain stiffness and inflexibility in persons, in 
their own judgment and their own ways. Humility inclines 
to a yielding, pliable disposition. The humble Christian is 
disposed to yield to others, and conform to them, and please 
them, in every thing but sin. 

Spiritual pride disposes persons to stand at a distance from 
others, as better than they. The humble Christian is ready 
to look upon himself as more unworthy than others, yet he 
does not love the appearance of an open separation from vi- 
sible Christians; and will carefully shun every thing that 
looks like distinguising himself as more humble, or in any 
respect better than others. 




I 



The eminently humble Chriatian is clothed with lowlioesB, 
mildnesB, mcekneaa, gentleness of spirit and behaviour, and 
with a soil, sweet, condescending, winning air and depoct^H 
ment. Humility has no such thing as roughness, oi coa^| 
lempt, or fierceness, or bitterness, in its nature, which thingi ^ 
are marks of spiritual pride ; as are also invectives, and cen- 
sorious talk concerning particular persons for their opposi- 
tion, hj'pocrisy, delusion, pharisaism, and the like. 

Spiritual pride takes great notice of opposition aod inju- 
ries that are received, and is often speaking of them. Hu- 
mility disposes a person rather to be, like hia blessed Lord 
when reviled, dumb, not opening his mouth. The more 
clamorous and furious the world is against him, the more 
silent and still will he be. 

Spiritual pride leads those who are reproached to be 
more bold and confident, and to go greater lengths in that 
for which they are blamed. Humility leads to improve the 
rd^roaches of enemies as an occasion of serious self-exami- 
oation. 

Spiritual pride leads to a certain unsuitable and self-confi- 
dent boldness before God and man. Humility leads to the 
opposite. 

Aigumiiig is a mark of spiritual pride : putting on the airs 
of a master, to whom it belongs to dictate. Humility leads 
the Christian to take the place of a learner, to be " swift to 
hear, slow to speak. ^' The eminently humble Christian 
thinks he wants help from every body, whereas he that is 
spiritually proud, thinks every body wants his help. Chris- 
tian humility, under a sense of otiiers' misery, entreats and 
beseeches -, spiritual pride affects to command and warn with 
authority 



tlf young ministers had great humility, it would dispote 
them especially to treat aged ministers with respect and re- 
verence, as their fathers, notwithstanding that a sovereign 
God may have given them greater success than they have 
had. 

It is a mark of spiritual pride to refuse to enter into dis- 
course or reasoning with such as are considered carnal men, 
when they make objections and inquiries. Humility would 
lead ministers to condescend to carnal men, as Christ has 
condescended to us, to bear with our unteachabienesB and 
stupidity, and still follow us with instructions, line upon line, 
precept upon precept, saying, " come let us reason together i'' 
It would lead to a compliance with the precept, " Be ready 
always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a rea- 
son of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.** 

Such nre some of the marks of spiritual pride sod inw 



41 

humility pointed out by President Edwards. The abstract 
is given as much as possible in his own words. The whole 
of what he says on the subject deserves the most serious con- 
sideration. 

The friends of religion have been so much gratified with 
that beautiful hymn by Newton, that I shall venture to insert 
it in my letter : 

TRUE AND FALSE ZEAL. 

Zeal is that pure and heavenly flame 

The fire of lore supplies ; 
While that which oHten bean the name. 

Is self in a disguise. 

True zeal is merciful and mild, 

Can pitv and forbear ; 
The false is headstrong^, fierce and wild, 

And breathes revenge and war. 

While zeal for truth the Christian warms, 

He knows the worth of peace ; 
But self contends for names and forms, 

Its party to increase. 

Zeal has attained its highest aim^ 

Its end is satisfied. 
If sinners lore the Sarioar's name, 

Nor seeks it aught beside. 

But self, however weU employed, 

Has its own ends in view ; 
And says, as boasting Jehu cried, 

« Come, see what I can do.*^ 

Dear Lord, the idol self dethrone, 

And from our hearts remove ; 
And let no zeal by us be shown, 

But that which springs from love. • * 

Your affectionate brother, 

ASAHEL NETTLETON. 



Rev, Dr, Spring. 



Ill, I8». ^1 



I 
I 
I 
I 



., June 19th, 1837. 
McBsrs. Editors, — The following communicatioa firom the 
Rev. Dr. Porteb, ofCntskill, is designed to correct some re- 
ports which have, of late, been in circulation in this region, 
Eis well as to express his sentiments in relation to certain 
measures which have been introduced into some of our west- 
ern revivals. Dr. Porter consents to its publication) and 
others have advised to the measure. 

Caiskin, June 14, 1837.^ 
Dear Sir, — In a communication recently received from toH 
West, to my great surprise, I have derived the following itt- 
telligence ; to all which I feel it a duty 1 owe to the public 
and to myself, to make a reply. You say, " I have received 
information that a great revolution has taken place in the 
£ast in favour of Mr. Finney. It is said that Mr. Benedict, 
of Chatham, has pledged himself to Mr. Finney to support 
him ; that at an interview with myself, Mr. Benedict won me 
over to Mr. Finney's side ; and that lilr. Benedict is now 
gone to New- York to create a sentiment in Mr. Finney's fa- 
vour ; and it is moreover added, that I have been to Durham 
lo convince Mr. Williston that Mr. Finney is right." 

As to the great revolution at the East, 1 have nothing to 
answer ; and as to Mr. Benedict he can best speak for him- 
self. From the interview I had with you at Durham, and in 
tlie stage to Catskill, and at my house, you know my senti- 
ments perfectly. Since that time I have not seen Mr. Bene- 
dict in Hiidton, nor been at Durham, nor seen Mr. Williston, 
nor comAunicated to him a single syllabic on any subject 
whatever. Besides, I have had no occasion to change my 
mind on the matters in question, since I saw you ; and after 
re-perusing Mr. Finney's sermon and Mr. Nettleton's remariu, 
and what I have scon in the papers, my opinion is precisely 
the same as I expressed it to you, when we were together. 
Whatever might have been Mr. Finney's design, it is perfect- 
ly clear to my understanding, that the principle laid dowo 
-iteil in his sermon, opens the door for tlie intro- 



and a 



duction of all those extravagances so often witnessed in reli- 
gious conferences and prayer meetings ; and that Mr. Nettle- 
ton's remarks on said sermon are in point, and that they have 
no severity beyond tlie demands of sober truth. Mr. Nettle- 
ton has done what a faithful minister of the gospel, and a 



43 

friend to revhrab of reli^on, and one who has bad io mvch 
experience in them, was in duty bound to do. 

when he wrote his remarks, as you very well know, being 

f resent, he was expecting to go, in a few days, before hi« 
udge ; yet his remarks speak for themselves, and to me they 
afford convincing proof, that his mind was never more clear, 
and acute, and vigorous, than when he indited to his amanu- 
ensis those remarks. I know the views of many of the ablest 
ministers on the stage, and who have had the longest expe- 
rience in religious revivals, and that they, with unanimous 
voice, condemn the measures in question, and to which so 
many facts testify as deleterious, and a calamity to be de- 
precated, and to be guarded against as one of the sorest evils 
which can befall the church in this or any other age. Amonff 
all my acquaintance, whether personal or by reputation, I 
know not of a single minister of our denomination, whether 
Congregational or Presbyterian, in whom I have reposed con- 
fidence, and whose praise is and has been for a long time, 
say for thirty years, in all the churches, but is opposed to 
many of the measures which have prevailed in 'Oneida coun- 
ty, Troy, and some other places. And here I am willing to 
mention some names, — names which I venerate. Drs. Hyde, 
Shepard, Griffin and Richards, and younger men of eminence 
for piety, talents, and success in the ministry, as Drs. Beech- 
er, Humphreys, Spring, McAuley ; and of Troy Presbytery, 
Messrs. Tomb, Prime, Lyman, Rogers, and also Dr. Blatch- 
ford of that body, — are united in the same mind and in the 
same judgment, in disapproving and condemning measures 
which hate been adopted and pushed to an alarming extremi- 
ty^ as an assemblage of facts testify beyond all contradiction^ 
having transpired before many witnesses. In respect to Mr. 
Nettleton's remarks on Mr. Fmney's sermon, " Dr. Griffin is 
willing it should be said and published, that he considers the 
revndiTks just what they should be,'^^ 

The subject has now been before me more than a year. 
These extravagances are not new. They made their appear- 
ance before, and in, and after, the days of Edwards. They 
were followed with the most baneful consequences. They 
well nigh ruined the character of religious revivals in the es- 
timation of the best ministers and the best Christians. It 
took the church half a century to repair the loss she had sus- 
tained. I have long been alarmed and distressed at what 
has been in progress of extravagance, and scarcely opened 
my lips. I am now constrained to express my mind with de^ 
cision and without reserve. And I believe it as certain as my 
existence, that if a stop is not put to the extravagances and 
anti-scriptural measures, such as females of all ages prajdng 



in social meetings when there are males assembled, aiid Ibr 
persons by name, and in a style irreverent and shocking to 
llie humble and conlrile spirit, and so contrary to all scriptu- 
ral example recorded in the Bible, revivals of religion will 
lose their character. If these things are introduced into re- 
vivals of religion, piety will revolt ; it does revolt These 
things throw our Theological Seminaries and Colleges ialo 
the back-ground. I consider the remarks of Mr. Ncltleton 
as the development of a principle, the practical illustration 
of which is now portrayed before the eyes of the public fa 
matters of fact. 

I have much more in mind than I have time to writi 

Vou can make such use of this letter as you please. It i 

written in great haste, — but I have no fear arising {torn if 

publidtu. Yours, &c. i 

DAVID POUTER-I 



ntOM TaS ALBERT CBRIlTIAn imoiitkh. 

Mr. Editor, — The Review which 1 herewith send you, 
written immediately on the appearance of the sermi 
£vents, however, occurred about tliat lime, which 
raged the hope that its publication would be unnecesaaiK 
and it would not now appear, had not a Review of Mr. Nn 
tieton's Remarks, and some other kindred publications, re- 
cently evinced a disposition on the part of the friends of the 
new measures, to defend and sustain the sentiments of the 
seimon. 

NOVANGLFa 



A Sermon preached in ilie Presbyterian Church, Tt 
MarcA^4, IS27, by the Ret: Charles G. Finney, /rtm 
" " " " " 'gethcr except they be agreed^ 



J 



Amoa 3. 3. Can two walk t< 



ing the 
'el>een 



I 



The revivals in Oneida county and the vicinity, during the 

East year, have attracted much attention. They have 
ailed by many as the commencement of a new era in revi- 
vals; and the measures understood to have had the most 
promment place in their promotion, have been denominated 



43 

the new measures^ and been thought by many to be a won-* 
deriiil improvement. Some have intimated that the mea- 
sures which were successful in promoting revivals in the days 
of our fathers, had now lost their efficacy, and would no 
more be blessed to that end : and others have gone so far as 
to say, our fathers did not know how to promote revivals, 
they did not know how to pray, nor did ihcy know how to 
preach. Others again, have thought that they saw nothing 
new in these measures, nothing but what they had seen 
among other denominations in their own times, and had read 
of frequently in the history of the church in past ages. They 
have recognised, or thought they recognised, in these new 
measures, all the leading features of those which were pur- 
sued by Davenport and others, during the revival in New- 
England, in the days of President Edwards, and which are 
pointed out, in his Thoughts on Revivals, as among the 
things which are to be avoided. The author of this sermon 
has been considered the most prominent agent in the intro- 
duction of these new measures, so that they are often called 
by his name ; though it is known by many that they had be- 
gun to be used in that region, among Presbyterians, in some 
degree, before he entered the ministry. These measures 
have not, indeed, been adopted in every place in that vici- 
nity, where there have been revivals during the past year. 
It has been understood that some ministers and churches 
have been opposed to theni, and have endeavoured to keep 
them out, as far as possible ; and that others have admitted 
them only in part. And this backwardness of ministers and 
Christians to admit them, has been the subject of much ani- 
madversion, both from the press and otherwise. It is well 
known that some of the old and tried friends of revivals in 
that region have been much blamed on this account, and 
have been represented as opposed to revivals, hindering the 
work of the Lor.d, and strengthening the hands of the enemies 
of religion. Yet it is believed that they have generally borne 
these reproaches in silence, and have been backward to pro- 
claim their objections. Indeed, some of them have been so 
backward to make known their objections, that their friends 
abroad have not known that they felt any, and in some cases 
have been led to believe that they had adopted the new mea- 
sures in full. The friends of revivals abroad have at length 
become alarmed at the evils which have begun to reach them 
from the West, and have begun to communicate their fears, 
and to state their objections in letters to their friends on the 
subject. But so persuaded are some that these new measures 
must be riffht, and that all the real friends of revivals must 
approve of them, that they are ready to conclude that those 




who are the known fricndii of revivals abroad must have lieen 
misinformed, and grounded their objections on exaggerated 
reports which have been put in circulation by the enem 
And though those gentlemen expressly say that they hm 
derived their information from the friends of ihc new mi 
suTGs themselves, and from what has come under their 01 
personal observation, this docs not free those in that region 
who have been known to disapprove, from the suspicion and 
the charge of being the source of that misinformation. From 
the best information I can obtain, I conclude that those mi- 
nisters and Christians who have not approved of the new 
measures, have been the most silent on the subject <rf any 
class of people in the vicinity ; and I fully believe, that, when 
the truth shall be known, it will be found, that the friends of 
the new measures have tliemselves done more to spread the 
knowledge of them abroad, than all other classes put toge- 
ther. Some that did not approve have been silent, lest tbey 
should be thought to speak against the work of God, and be 
proclaimed as enemies to revivals ; and some have thought 
that the prejudices of many were so strong, and there was so 
httle disposition to make distinctions, that if they shouM at- 
tempt to correct any evils, their intentions would be misnii- 
derstood, and they should only lessen their own usefulness, 
without the prospect of accomplishing any important good. 
But those who have not approved are beginning to condemn 
themselves for the silence they have maintained, and to ac- 
knowledge it as an error that when they have seen the evil, 
they have Buffered any considerations to deter them from 
raising the warning voice. It is to be hoped that the publi- 
cation of this sermon will relieve them from any remaining 
scruples they may feel, and lead the way to a full discussii 
of tho subject, it is certainly creditable to the author. III 
he has thus publicly taken the 6eld, and given so fair a chi 
Icngc to those who object to his measures. No objection ci 
henceforth be made by their friends, if they are made the 
subjects of the closest scrutiny ; for the sermon is so open 
and direct an attack upon all those ministers and Christiatia 
who do not approve of the new measures, that it ivill be as- 
cribed to cowardice, or to the consciousness of ffuih, if they 
do not speak in their own defence. 

The object of the sermon evidently is, to account for the 
opposition which is made to the new measures, by ministers 
and Christians, as well as others, in such a way as to make 
that opposition a proof that those measures are right, and 
that all who oppose them are wrong ; and especiaity thai 
those ministers and professed Christians who oppose them. 



ted 



ihiiH 

cao^H 



47 

give evidence by their opposition thmt the state of their hearts 
is the same as that of the impenitent worlds 

The sum of the argument is this : Sinners must be most op- 
posed to that which is nearest right: But they are more opposed 
to these new measures than they are to those which others 
use : therefore these measures must be nearest right. And, 

If ministers and professed Christians oppose the same 
things that sinners do, and make the same objections to them, 
they must feel just as sinners do ; but ministers and professed 
Christians do oppose these new measures ; therefor^ the state 
of their hearts is the same as that of impenitent sinners, and 
they are cither hypocrites, or so cold hearted and dead, that 
there is no present difference in moral character between 
them and the impenitent world, and they ought to be so con* 
sidered, and treated accordingly. 

This appears through the whole discourse, and will be seen 
in the following extracts : P(Mge 6. ^^ We see why lukewarm 
professors and impenitent sinners have the same difficulties 
with means in revivals of religion. We often hear them com- 
plain of the manner of preaching and praying. Their objec- 
tions are the same, they find fault with the same things, and 
use the same arguments in support of their objections. 
The reason is, that at that time, their affections are nearly 
the same ; it is the fire and the spirit that disturbs their frosty 
hearts. For the time being, they walk together, for in feeU 
ing they are agreed." Page 7. " We see why ministers and 
Christians visiting revivals, often, at first, raise objections to 
the means used, and cavil, and sometimes take sides with 
the wicked." " While their hearts remain wrongs they will, of 
course, cavil : and the nearer right any thing is, the more 
spiritual and holy, so much the more it must displease them, 
while xYieXx ejections groveV* Page 12. "That excitement 
which does not call out the opposition of the wicked and 
wrong-hearted, is either not a revival of reUgion at all, or it 
is so conducted that sinners do not see the finger of God in 
it" " The more pure and holy the means are that are used 
to promote a revival of religion, so much the more, of neces- 
sity, will they excite the opposition of cdl wrong hearts,^'* 
*^ If the matter of preaching is right, and the sinner is pleased, 
there is something defective in the manner,^^ Page 13. 
" The more right and holy feeling there is, the more wrong 
and unholy feeling there will be, of course." Page 16. " If 
we walk with the lukewarm and ungodly, or they with us^ it 
is because we are agreed ; for two cannot walk together ex- 
cept they be agreed,"*^ Page 9. " We see why ministers are 
sometimes unsettled by revivals." He supposes the minister 
may awake, while the church will not, or that the church 



I 



I 



may awake, while the minister will not. Page 10. " In either 
of these cases, they may find themselves miable to walk to- 
gether, because they are not agreed. In the former case, let 
the minister obey the command of Christ, and ' shake off the 
dust of his feet for a testimony against them.' In the latter, 
let the church shake off their sleepy minister; they are better 
without him, than with him," 

These extracts I think clearly show, that the object of the 
discourse is as before slated, to prove that the new measures 
are nearest right, because they are most opposed ; and that 
those ministers and Christians who oppose them, thereby give 
evidence that Ihey are agreed in heart with the impenitent 
world, and should be treated accordingly. 

The whole argument is highly sophistical, and the main 
conclusions of the discourse entirely unwarranted ; yet the 
prejudices of many readers are no doubt so strongly enlisted in 
favour of the author's system, that they will think it a finished 
piece of sound reasoning, and the conclusions supported by 
urefragable arguments. A few words might suffice to expose 
its sophistry to those whose minds are unbiassed ; but a more 
extended examination is doubtless expedient, for the sake of 
such as are predisposed to embrace any thing the author may 
advance. 

And perhaps it may tend to convince some that the rea- 
soning is unsound, even though they should not be able to J 
discover wherein, to let (hem see a few other conclusions I 
which the same kind of reasoning would equally support. — ■ 
Take the following : ' 

Some impenitent sinners are greatly displeased with the 
new measures for promoting revivals ; some professed Chris- 
tians and ministers are greatly displeased with tliem also : 
therefore, it is concluded, they are walking together, because 
they are agreed, and are both equally wrong. This is the 
author's argument ; but it will prove the contrary, just as 
well. For, 

Some impenitent sinners are much taken with the new 
measures, and are very anxious to have them introduced ; 
some professed Christians are also much taken with them, 
and are as anxious to have them introduced : therefore, ther 
are walking together, because they are agreed, and are both ] 
equally wrong, j 

Again, some professed Christians are pleased to hear a j 
man preach, who treats his subjects in a clear, argumenia- I 
tive manner, though ho is not very forcible in his delivery ; j 
some impenitent sinners are also pleased to hear him : there- ] 
(ore, it is concluded, they are walking together, because they | 
are a^eed, and are both equally wrong. But, 



I 



49 

Some professed Chrisiitms are displeased when they hear 
Buch a preacher, and complain of him as " a dull man ;" 
some impenitent sinners arc also displeased, and make the 
aame complaint : therefore, they are walking together, be- 
cause they are agreed, and are both equally wrong- 
Again, some professed Christians wish to have the doctrines 
of the gospel fully and clearly preached, and are best pleaded 
with such preaching ; some impenitent sinners also wish the 
doctrines preached, and are best pleased with such preach- 
ing : therefore, it is concluded, they are walking together, 
because they are agreed, and arc both equally wrong. But, 

Some professed Christians are very unwilling to have the 
doctrines of the bible dwelt upon, and are always displeased 
with such preaching ; some impenitent sinners are also un- 
willing to have those doctrines dwelt upon, and are always 
displeased with such preaching : therefore they are walking 
together, because they are agreed, and are both equally wrong. 

These examples may suffice to show how the method of 
argumentation adopted in the sermon will support opposite 
conclusions equally well. A few other examples will show 
how the same method of reasoning will support some con- 
clusions which would be as oSensive to the friends of the 
aew measures, as some of these which are drawn in the ser- 
mon are to others. Take the following : 

Impenitent sJnners^ always pray for their own salvation 
without suhmissioii ; it is an essential ingredient in the pray- 
ers of some at this day, that they be made without submission : 
therefore they walk together, because they are agreed. 

Borne individuals now venture to predict certain future 
events, in consequence of impressions which they suppose 
have been made on their minds by the Holy Spirit ; Stork, 
Munzer, and their associates, in the days of Luther, did the 
same ; therefore they walk together, because they are 
agreed. 

Stork, Munzer, and tlieir associates, r^enou/icctf Luther and 
Calvin as carnal, unconverted men, and strangers to the in- 
fluences of tiic Spirit, because they opposed their wild and 
extravagant notions and practices ; some, in these days, do 
'the same, in respect to those ministers who are most like Lu- 
ther and Calvin, in their sentiments and practice ; therefore 
diey walk together, because they are agreed. 

Some fanatical sects have been in the habit of encouraging 
outward bodily expressions of feeling, and attaching great 
importance to them, such as groaning aloud in time of prayer, 
falling down, rolling about, and the like, and speaking of 
them as evidences of the special and powerful influence* of 
7 



I 



e : therefore Uiey 



50 



the Spirit; eomc in these Jays do tlie ec 
walk together, because they are agreed. 

Some fanatical and disorderly persons in former time?, 
have thought it highly meritorious, to crowd themselves into 
the paxtshes of settled ministers, and introduce such mea- 
sures as were adapted to promote discord and strife ; some 
in these days think the same ; therefore they walk together, 
because they are agreed. 

The Pharisees prayed long and loud, so as to attract the 
notice of men in the streets ; some in these days do the same : 
therefore they walk together, because they are agreed. 

The Pharisees compassed sea and land to make proselytes 
to their peculiarities ; some in these days do the same : there- 
fore they walk together, because they are agreeil. 

A person under the influence of an evil spirit followed 
Paul and his company, with the cry, " these men arc the ser- 
vants of the most high God ;" some follow certain preachers 
now with the same cry ; therefore they arc under the influ- 
ence of the same evil spirit, and walk together, because they 
are agreed. 

Such deductions as these, are made alter the method of 
reasoning pursued in the sermon ; and they might be multi- 
phed to an indefinite estent. If these esamples should serre 
to convince any that the method of reasoning is unsound, 
and will equally support truth and falsehood, and equally 
prove both sides of a contradiction, my purpose will be an- 
swered. I am not weak enough to suppose that 'such argu- 
mentation will fasten any of these conclusions upon the 
friends of the new measures; my object is to show ihem the 
fallacy of the reasoning by which the conclusions of the sei- _ 
mon arc attempted to be fastened upon others. 

But the foundation of the author's argument must be 4 
amined. It is assumed that the reasons why ministers s 
Christians oppose the new measures, arc the same as the n 
Bohs why the impenitent oppose them. He says, " their d(^ 
jcctions are the same, they find fault with the same thinss.t 
use the same arguments in support of their objections, ' 
is the Are and the spirit that disturbs their frosty bei 
For the time being, they walk together, for, in feeling, I 
are agreed." — So important a part of the argument as tl 
and one on which the conclusions so essentially depen<i, 
should not have been taken for granted, nor have been left 
to depend upon the niiked assertion of any man. It should 
have been proved, beyond the possibihty of doubt, that the 
objections of Christians and the objections of the impenitent 
arc precisely the same; and are not only supported by the 
same arguments ostensibly, but must and do arise from (he 



51 

laniG state of heart. Ministers and Cliristions should not 
luive been thus classed with the openly irreligious, while there 
is any room to suppose they mat/ have different reasons for 
their opposition ; or while the impenitent may have any good 
reasons for theirs. 

It should not bo thought, that the smgic fact, if it were a 
&ct, of their being opposed to the same tilings, is sulHcient 
proof. Men are often opposed to the same things, for very 
different reasons. A man may be a candidate for the oiEce 
of chief magistrate of our nation, and have great numbers 
of individuals opposed to him, for reasons widely different 
from each other. One may think he has injured him, and be 
opposed from personal resentment. Another may think ho 
has personal advantages to expect from the elevation of hia 
competitor. Another may think his competitor will pursue 
measures more for the interest of the particular section of tho 
nation in which he resides. Another may think the candi- 
date is incompetent in point of talent and experience. Ano- 
ther may be displeased with some vicious habits he beltevea 
him to indulge. And a Christian may be opposed because 
he thinks him a man void of religious principle, and not hav- 
big the fear of God before hia eyes. Many other reasons 
might be mentioned, by which those numerous iodividaakt 
are influenced to unite in their opposition to the same candi- 
date. The fact, then, that they agree in opposing the same 
candidate, is no proof of any likeness of character between 
themselves, unless they arc opposed for the same reasons. 

Are the impenitent, then, and many ministers and Chris- 
tians, opposed to the new measures for promoting revivals, 
for the same reasons ? This is asserted ; and they have been 
abundantly classed together, by the friends of the new mea- 
sures, on this very ground. It should not be concluded that 
the fact, if it were a fact, of their using " the same arguments 
pport of their objections,^^ is a sufficient proof that the 
reasons why they are opposed are the same; nor, if some of 
them are the same, that they arc all the same. They may 
have more reasons, in their own minds, than they think it ne- 
cessary to give, on every occasion. For instance, an impe- 
nitent sinner may feel opposed in heart to the doctrine of to- 
tal depravity. That doctrine may bo exhibited to him in a. 
manner that is peculiarly and unnecessarily offensive. He is 
displeased at the doctrine itself, and he is displeased also at 
the offensive manner in which it was presented. He may not 
choose to complain of the doctrine itself, but only of the 
manner. A Christian who heard it, though he cordially re- 
ceives the doctrine, might think the maimer highly improper 
and make the same complaint. Does the fact, io thia i 



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of their maldng the eame objection, prove a likeness of cha- 
racter between them 1 Such a conclusion would certainly 
be unfounded. It ought first to be proved thai the manner 
was right, or that the Chriatian waa as really offended with 
the doctrine itself, as the sinner was, before such a conclusion 
can be drawn. Suppose a sinner is conversed with, who as- 
sents to the truth of all the doctrines of the gospel, but ac- 
knowledges himself an impenitent sinner : and he is toH, 
" he is as orthodox as the devil," but " his character is as 
black as hell," and " if he does not repent to-day he will be 
in hell to-morrow;" he will probably be displeased, and 
make objections to this treatment. And what objections 
will he state T He will probably object, that such language 
is harsh, unkind, not expressive of benevolent feeling, and 
savouring of profaneness; and that, in the prediction, the 
man ia telling more than he knows. And if a Christian, who 
should hear it, should make the same objections, would ii 
prove him to be of the same character as the intpenitenl sin- 
ner 1 Id should LeII a child, " not to follow liis ungodly pa- 
rents, who were leading him to hell ; not to listen to their in- 
structions, which will destroy his soul ; that his parents are 
BO wicked, he had better leave them, and live with me, and I 
wiH take him with me to heaven ;" the parents would proba- 
bly be displeased, and make objections to such treatment. 
And what objections would they state t They would proba- 
bly object, that it would be more proper to tell parents their 
own faults, than to tell them to their children ; that such 
treatment is adapted to alienate the afibclions of children 
from their parents, break up families, and teach children to 
disregard the fifth commandment, which requires children to 
love and honour their parents. And if a Christian, who 
should hear all this, should make the same objections, would 
it prove him to be of the same character as the impcnilcat 
sinner? If an impenitent sinner should be prayed for l^ - 
name, at a public meeting, and the occasion should be e 
braced to hold him up to public notice, as an uncommoi 
odious and abandoned character, and to tell God and t 
world all the bad things that have been known or thought 
about him, it would probably give offence to him and his 
friends. And what objections would they state? They 
would probably say, that such treatment was abusive and 
defamatory, and not adapted to do the individual any good. 
And if a Christian should happen to feel and express the 
same opinion of it, would that be a conclusive proof that be 
is of the same character with the impenitent 7 If a minisUI 
of the gospel should happen to be such an one as Paul Tt^M 
quires all to be, having " a good report of them wJitch | 




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without," and one that, by a long life of uniform piety, had 
commanded the respect and confidence even of the uncon* 
verted part of his congregation ; and he should be publicly 
prayed for, by some stranger, as " an old grey-headed apoa* 
tate, who was leading soula to hell," or as "the head Achalt| 
in the camp of the Lord ;" It is probable aome of the uncons 
verted would be offended at it, ae well as some of the church; 
and that both would complain that their aged pastor should 
be treated witli euch indignity ; and if it should happen, that 
" their objections slioiild be the same," and that they shouM 
" use the same arguments in support of them," would it cer- 
tainly prove that they were all ahke in their moral character? 
If a preacher should, in a public assembly, in tlie presence of 
ministers and others, exhort the females to lead in prayer, 
and represent them as grieving the Spirit by refusing ; and 
not prevaihng by arguments, should drop on his knees and 
tell the Lord how proud they were, because they would not 
comply, and then repeat his exhortations; and if the fear of 
resisting the Spirit, or of being thought proud, should prevail 
with some to comply, the whole transaction would probably 
be objected to by their impenitent friends. And what would 
they say? They would be likely to quote the apoetolic pro- 
hibition, " Let your women keep Bilence in the churches ; for 
it is not permitted unto them to speak." And if it should so 
happen that some Christians too should think the practice 
was forbidden, and should qaotc the same direction of the 
apostle, would it certainly prove that they wercof the same 
moral character with those impenitent friends? 

It is evident, then, that if ministers and Christians did 
"find fault with the same things, and nee the same argu- 
ments in support of their objections^' that the impenitent do, 
it would not be sufficient to prove a likeness of character be- 
tween them, unless it were first proved that the things ob- 
jected to are right, and that ali the reasons why both claasea 
objected were the same. Let it first be shown that the mea- 
sures objected to are right, and that there can be none but 
sinful objections made against them ; and then let it be 
shown that the objections which ministers and Christians 
make are the same in all respects, not only as those which 
the impenitent avow, but as those which they inwardly feel ; 
and something will be done towards laying a foundation for 
the conclusion that there' is some likeness of character be- 
tween (hem. 

But I am disposed to question the fact, that the objections 
which ministers and Christians make to the new measures 
are, in general, the same as those which the impenitent 
make. To many of them, I have no doubt they are, in part, 



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tlie same. For wherever the impenitent discover any Uiing 
in profesaors of religion which is really wrong, they can, if 
they please, bring solid objections against it, and support 
them by sound arguments both from reason and scripture. 
Some of the unconverted are men of good sense, and have 
sufficient acquaintance with the scriptures to form a pretty 
accurate judgment whether the conduct of Christians is con- 
sistent with their profession or not. And some of them are 
men of good breeding, and arc disgusted with whatever vio- 
lates the common rules of propriety, wherever they see it 
If, therefore, in some things, their judgment should accord 
with that of ministers and Christians, it ia no sufficient rea- 
son why reproaches should be cast upon either. 

A bnef statement of the most common objections which I 
have heard made, by both classes, against the new measures, 
will show how far they agree, Those out of the church have 
complained of harsh and uncivil treatment in conversation, 
being called by hard names, and provoking epithets, and ad- 
dressed with coarseness and vulgarity, and in a manner which 
they deemed insolent, overbearing and insulting. They have 
complained of being spoken of to others in terms which thef 
consider defamatory and (ibusive. They have complained 
that their children were unroat^onably frightened, by being 
threatened with immediate and inevitable damnation, ana 
told that there was no help for them. They have complained 
lljat Ihctr children should be told such things about their pa- 
rents as were. adapted to alienate their affections, and lead 
. them to be disrespectful towards their parents. They have 
j found fault with the personahly of public preaching, by which 
I ^e attention of the congregation was directed to particular 
[ individuals, as persons of an uncommonly odious character. 
I They have complained of being prayed for by name in a 
manner which they considered slanderous and abusive. 
Some have taken oA'ence at what they considered an irreve- 
1 rent use of the name of God, and a familiar use of the words 
[ devil, hell, cursed, damned, and the like, in a manner which 
I they thought resembled the more vulgar sort of profane 
swearing. Some have been disgusted with what appeared to 
them an irreverent boldness and familiarity with God in 
prayer, which shocked their feelings. Some have objected 
that the subject of religion should be so much urged upon 
them, And some have complained that the doctrines of 
Calvinism should be so vehemently pressed, and especially 
that of total depravity ; and that so little charily should be 
expressed for other denominations. The principal reasons 
they have given why they objected to these things, have 
been, that they felt themselves unreasonably crowded upoa 



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53 



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and ill-treated, ihat their sense of propriety was outrageif, 
nnd that they thought these things improper. And it haa 
been said, " If this is religion, I want no such rehgion. 

PJow, is it certain that these complaints have been made 
by the unconverted solely from their dislike of the religion of' 
the gospel ? Has there been no other foundation for any of 
them 1 Have they been made solely because the holy, hea- 
venly temper of the gospel has been so clearly exhibited be- 
fore them, in all its native loveliness, as it appeared in th« 
Lord Jesus Christ, breathing good will to man, and express- 
ing all the meekness, and gentleness, and kindness, and for^ 
bearance towards them which is required in the sermon on 
the mount, and elsewhere t The fact that such objections 
arc made by the impenitent against the new measures, more 
than against the measures previously in use, will not be al- 
lowed to be, of itself, a sufficient proof that the new mea- 
sures are the nearest right. 

But it is not my present purpose to show that these corn* 
plaints are, or are not, made on good grounds. It is simply 
to show, that the complaints of the unconverted and those of 
Christians and ministers, have not been all the same, and 
made for the same reasons. 

Ministers and Christians have, indeed, complained of some 
of the things above mentioned. They have complained of a 
harsh and overbearing treatment of the unconverted, not only 
because they thought it improper, but because they thought 
it adapted to harden them, and shut up the way of access to 
their consciences. They have not been unwilling to have 
children and youth conversed with on the subject of religion, 
and made to see their true state and character ; but they 
have thought a great and sudden excitement of their fears 
not likely to lead them to such an attention to the state of 
their own hearts, as would be adapted to do any permanent 
good; and especially when it was produced by unwarranta- 
ble declarations of immediate and inevitable damnation, 
wliich a few days might suffice to show them were not true; 
and they feared that such things would lead them to treat the 
sober warnings of the scriptures with contempt. They have 
thought that it was wrong, under the colour of performing 
any other religious duty, to teach children to disregard the 
fifth commandment. They have been oflfended at an irreve- 
rent use of the Divine name, because they thought it a breacli;-' 
of the third commandment ; and have been displeased with 
tlic familiar use of other commoi\ terms of profaneness, be- 
cause they thought it must produce some of the same etfect 
that profane swearing does. They have been disgusted with 
the B^pearance of irreverent boldness, uid iha aflectatkantf ■ 



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Himiliaiity with God in prayer, because they thoueht it in- 
coasistent with proper feelings of respect towards mm, and 
that awe of the Divine Majesty wliich holy beings ctpress. 
They have not been afraid that the subject of religion would 
be too much urged upon men, if it were only done with that 
kindness of feehng which wOuld leave the door open for its 
being repeated. They have not complained that the doc- 
trines of Calvinism were too much or too clearly preached, 
bor that too much importance was attached to them, nor that 
too little chanty was expressed for such as understand ingly 
and cordially reject them. On the contrary, it has been a se- 
rious objection with many, that those doctrines have not beeo 
preached so clearly and fully as ihey thought importanL 
They have been grieved that those who did urge them plainly 
and fully, should be charged with hindering revivals by 
preaching them ; and that orthodoxy should be made a term 
of reproach. They have objected, that people were not suf- 
ficiently instructed ; that the distinction between true and 
false experience should be overlooked, or little thought of; 
and that the disposition to make a distinction between genu- 
ine and spurious revivals, should be frowned upon as a mark 
of being in a cold and stupid stale. They have complained 
that the most uniform and consistent Christians should be 
pronounced cold, and stupid, and dead, because they did not 
alter as much as others i and that, too, in many cases, bj 
those who had as yet had no opportunity from personal ex- 
amination to know any thing of the state of their minda. 
They have been grieved that the best friends of revivals, as 
they have hitherto witnessed them, should be denounced as 
enemies because they did not fall in with the new measures, 
and that those whose age and experience had given them op- 
portunity to be most and longest acquainted with revivals, 
ahoutd be put down, by the converts of a few days old, as to- 
tally igno/ant on the subject. They have complained that m 
aged ministers, of tried and approved piety, should be put^ J 
licty prayed for, by young men and boys, as old hypociitea ■ 
or apostates, who were " leading souls to hell." Soma ^ 
have objected to female prayer and exhortation in mixed as- 
semblies, because they thought it forbidden in the scriptures, 
and adapted to destroy that silent, unobtrusive influence 
which it is so desirable that the female members of the church 
should exert, and which can be best exerted in the sphere 
in which God has placed them. Some have objected to the 
coiiiidonce which appeared to be placed in impulses and im- 
pressions, especially as connected witii the supposed prayer 
of faith, because they thought it contrary to the scriptures, 
and adapted to open & wide door to the delusions of Satan. 



57 

Some have thought the young were put forward, to their own 
injury, and the older members of the church, whose age and 
experience quahfied them to lead, were too manifestly put in 
the back ground ; and that old people in general were often 
treated with great disrespect, in direct violation of the Di- 
vine command, " thou shall rise up before the hoary head, 
and honour the face of Ihe old man." Some have complain- 
ed of the disposition of those who adopted the new measures 
to crowd them into every place, regardless of the divisioDS 
and contentions to which they seemed likely to give rise; 
and of the disposition of some to intermeddle in the concerns 
of other churches to which they did not belong. Some have 
complained of the stress which was laid upon the po»ture in 
prayer, while so httle regard appeared to be paid to the culti- 
vation of that meek, humble, modest, retiring spirit, which is 
so essential to the right performance of that duty. Some 
have complained that secret prayer should be made so loud 
as to attract the notice of people in the streets, because they 
thought it too much like that praying in the streets which our 
Lord reproves. Some have thought it wrong to pray that indi- 
viduals might be converted or removed, and especially, that 
" God would seal the damnation of sinners this night." Some 
have objected to the principle that the feelings ought to con- 
trol the judgment-, and that because any measure contribu- 
ted to produce very pleasant feelings in us, it was therefore 
right. Some have thought it wrong to consider success an 
evidence of Divine approbation, lest it should lead us to prac- 
tise deception, as Jacob did, in order to secure a good ob- 
ject. Some have been disgusted with the ostentation, and 
boasting, and self-conceit, which they have witnessed, be- 
cause they thought them utterly inconsistent with the spirit of 
the gospel. Some have complained, that when evils were 
pointed out, there was no regard paid to their warnings, but 
the same things were repeated, and carried to greater lengths 
than before. And some have been distressed at the appear- 
ance they saw of a disposition to have some men's " persons 
in admiration," as if they only were the instruments through 
which any good could be expected from Divine ordinances, 
and the only medium through which Ihe Holy Spirit could 
be communicated ; and the apparent determination to deny 
or justify every thing for which they were complained of, let 
it be what It might. But the principal complaint, and one 
which has embraced all the rest, has been, that the whole 
system of measures appeared to be adapted to promote false 
conversions, to slrenglhen and cherish false hopes, and pro- 
pagate a false religion ; and thus, besides destroying the 
soula of those who should be the subjects of it, these G 




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^M lurea should tend ultimately to bring all true religion, and &1I 
^F pure revivals into contempt, and increase the number of et- 
rorists and acofTera on every side. 

Such are some of the principal objections to the new me><^H 
surea which I have heard among ministers and Chr)sliaiM.,^| 
And il is easy to see that they are very far from being pre- 
cisely the same objections, and founded upon precisely the 
same reasons, as the objections of the impenitent No ; they 
are grounded on the love of the truth, or a regard for the 
honour of God, and the good of souls, and on a most anxious 
solicitude for the permanent good character and influence of 
revivals, and the advancement of the cause of Christ in the 
earth. And nothing can be more unjust and injurious, than 
because they make these objections, even if they are in a 
mistake in making them, to class them with the ungodly 
world, and represent them as walking together, because they 
are agreed. 

Having made these remarks upon the general object of the 
sermon, and having shown the fallacy of the main point as* 
Bumcd, that the objections which ministers and Christians 
make to the new measures are the same as those of the im- 
penitent, and grounded on the same reasons, and having thus 
exposed the unsoundness of the argument, and shown that 
the main point to be supported is without foundation, and 
that there is yet no proof of a likeness of character between 
the two classes of objectors to the new system, I proceed to 
a more particular examination of the several parts of the 
sermon. 

That which may be styled the doctrinal part of the ser- 
mon is the author's illustration of the declaration of the text, 
that two cannot walk together except they be agreed. He 
thinks it is an agreement in feeling. And though the te.U 
means God and man, his purpose requires him to consider it 
as spoken of one man walking with another. — The following 
extracts will give his view of it: 

Page 3 — 6. "All pleasure and pain — all happiness and 
misery, belong to the mind — all ain and holiness have their 
seat in, and belong to the heart or affections. All the satis- 
faction or dissatisfaction, pain or pleasure, that we feel in 
view of any truth or thing presented to our minds, depends 

entirely upon the actings of our afiections at the time, and 

consuls in these actings. If it fall in with, and excite, a 
feed, pleasurable affections, we are pleased of course ; i 
in these pleasurable affections our pleasure or happiness cot 
sists. The higher, therefore, these affections are elevatedb 
the presentation of any thing or truth to oiir minds, tT 
greater our pleasure is. But if the thing or truth do not fi 



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59 

in with our affections, it cannot please us ; if it be aside from 
our present state of feeling, and our nSections refuse to foU 
low, we shall either view it with indifference, our affections 
being otherwise engaged, or if it press upon us, we shall turn 
from and resist it." " If the subject be exhibited in a light 
that is below our present tone of feeling, we cannot be inter- 
ested, until it comes up to our feelings ; if this does not take 
place, we necessarihj remain uninterested ; and if the sub- 
ject, in this cooling, and to us, degraded point of view, is held 
up before our mind, and our afl'cctions struggle to maintain 
their height, we feel displeased, because our afl'ections are 
not fed, but opposed. If the subject be presented in a man- 
ner that strikes far above our tone of feehng, and our affec- 
tions grovel, and refuse to rise, it does not fall in with and 
feed our afl'ections, therefore we cannot be interested ; it is 
enthusiasm to us, we are displeased with the warmth in 
which our affections refuse to participate ; and the farther it 
is above our temperature, the more we are disgusted. These 
are truths to which the experience of every man will testify, 
as they hold good on every subject, and under all circum- 
stances ; and arc founded upon principles incorporated with 
the very nature of man." " A refined musician is listening 
almost in rapture to the skilful execution of a line piece of 
harmony — throw in discords upon him, he is in pain in a 
moment. Increase and prolong the dissonance, and he 
leaves the room in disgust, — You are fond of music ; but you 
are at present melancholy — you are in great affliction — you 
arc inclined to weep — the plaintive tones of an iEolian harp 
light softly upon your ear, and melt around your heart — your 
tears flow fast — but now the din of trumpets, drums, and 
cymbals, and the piercing fife, in mirthful quick-step, breaks 
upon your ear, and drowns the sofl breathings of the harp — 
you feel distressed — you turn away and stop your ears. The 
harp touched and melted your weeping affections, it fell in 
with yoMi feelings ; therefore you were gratified. The mar- 
tial music opposed your state of feeling, you was too melan- 
choly to have your affections elevated and enlivened by it : 
it therefore necessarily distressed you.^' "Your heart is 

Slowing with religious feeling — ^you are not only averse to 
le introduction of any other subject at that time, but are un- 
interested with any thing upon the same subject that is far 
below the tone of your affections. Suppose you hear a dull 
man preach or pray, while he remains dull, and you are 
warm with feeling, you are not interested, you cannot be, for 
your affections are not fed and cherished, unless he comes 
up to your tone ; if this does not happen, you are distressed 
and perhsps ditgaited with his coldaess. This is b thing of 



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60 

course." " Suppose you are lukewarm, and carnal, and 
earthly, in your affections : you hear one exhort, or pray, or 
preach, who is highly spiritual, and fervent, and affectionate ; 
if your affections will not rise — if, through prejudice, or pride, 
or the earthly and sensual state of your affections, they re- 
fuse to enkindle, and to grasp the subject, although you b»« 
iicve every word he says, yet you are not pleased. He 
above your temperature, you are annoyed with the manni 
and fire, and spirit of the man. The higher he rises, if yo 
affections grovel, the farther apart you are, and the moreyi ^ 
are displeased. While your heart is wrong, the nearer right. 
he is, the more he burns upon you, if your heart will not enB, 
kindle, the more you are disgusted." 

Here, then, we have the theory of the sermon before DSf 
and, as I think, also the theory of the whole system of the 
author's measures for promoting revivals. Some of his Ian* 
guage would lead ua to infer that he meant to embrace what 
is called the exercise, scheme, that all sin and holiness con- 
Bista in voluntary exercises ; but from other expressions it ap- 
pears he docs not, unless, indeed, he supposes that all the 
sensations and emotions of the mind are voluntary exercises, 
which would be indeed an entire new theory of ihe mind. 
He says, " alt the satisfaction or dissatisfaction, pain or plea- 
sure, that we feel, depend entirely upon the actings of our af- 
fections at the time, and consists in these actings." Accoi ' 
ing to him, then, all the pleasurable or painful emotions 
the mind are affections, whether they are voKintary or ini 
luntary. These constitute our feelings. And all sin taS 
holiness consist in these also. Andheuses/eefiri^ and heart 
as synonymous terms. Docs he mean, then, that all the plea- 
surable and painful emotions we have arc of a moral nature, 
and either sinful or holy ? Does he mean that holiness is the 
same thing as happiness, and sin the same thing as misery t 
Does he mean that all warm, lively, and happy feelings are 
holy affections? If he does not mean so, this was the place 
to inform us, and to make the distinction. And it was in- 
cumbent upon him to make it clearly, and let us see the dif- 
ference between those warm feelings that arc holy, and those 
that are not. I can scarce think that he believes all warm 
and happy feelings are holy; but I have looked in vain for 
any information to the contrary. — " Your heart is glowing 
with religious feeling." What is religious feeling? It was 
all important that he should tell us, because all his conclu- 
sions were based upon it ; and a mistake here would lead U8 
entirely astray. Does he suppose it impossible to mistake, 
and that the man who thinks he is awake, and full of religious 
feeling, ia of course right, in thinking so? How can a church 



af- 




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know when it is their duty to " shake off their aleepy i 
ter," without being informed what it is to be awahe, and 
what it is to be asleep ? Or is it impossible to mistake 1 Is 
the consciousness of being warm in our feelings on the sub- 
ject of religion, certain evidence that we are in a right state 
of mind? And if a minister does not so preach and pray, 
that " our affections are fed and cherished," is that certain 
evidence that he is " sleepy," and ought to be " shaken off?" 
Ib religious feeling so much of the nature of the inspiration of 
the prophets, that those who have it know certainly that they 
are right exactly, without " trying the spirits" by any rule ? 
Or is the grand rule by which every man is to be judged, and 
his spiritual state determined, the single question of hia 
agreement or disagreement with the new measures 7 I con- 
clude this will be the rule adopted in practice, and if this is 
the rule intended, it should have been more distinctly avowed. 
The whole drift of the discourse, however, is to establish this 
rule, though that object is not distinctly avowed. 

But, is there nothing said in the discourse, to show that all 
kinds of feeling are not religious feeling ? Yes. On page 10 
the author rejects animal fefling^ as forming no part of reli- 
gious affection. What, then, docs he mean by animal feel- 
ing ? He gives us no definition ; but from what he says of it, 
it would appear to be that tender sensibility which inclines us 
to weep, when it is skilfully touched. His language is, 
" adopt a strain of exhortation or preaching that is calcu- 
lated to awaken mere sympathy and animal feeling, and you 
will soon see that there is a perfect community of feeling 
amongst cold and warm hearted Christians, and sinners ; 
they will all weep and seem to melt, and no one will be of- 
fended -, and, I may add, no one will be convicted or con- 
verted." I conclude, then, that by animal feeling he means 
emotions of the tender and weeping kind, such as the music 
of the £olian harp is adapted to excite, and which the intro- 
duction of martial music would greatly disturb. Such feel- 
ings as these may be excited in view of religious objects, 
when presented in a particular attitude, and are, no doubt, 
often mistaken for religious afl'ections. But they are the re- 
sult of mere tragic painting, and ought to be carefully distin- 
guished from holy affections. There is, however, another 
class of animal feelings, such as are excited by " the din of 
trumpets, drums, and cymbals, and the piercing fife, in mirth- 
ful quick-step, breaking upon the ear," This class is doubt- 
less excited by religious subjects, as well as the other; and 
no reason appears why they should not be carefully distin- 
guished from holy affections. Yet, no notice is taken by the 
author, in this dncoarBe, «f thii clan of feelingi, u a ' ' 




63 



rion. OnH 
her class, ^H 



feelingfl, which should not be mistaken for true religioi.. - - •• 
the contrary, while he expressly excludea the other class, i 
there is much in hia language on the subject of religious feel- 
ing, which leads me lo conclude thai he considers this class 
of feeling, when excited by religious subjects, to be the very 
height of holy affection. And this 1 take to be the key to hu 
whole discourse, and to his whole system of measures. 

That there are these two classes of animal feeling, each of 
which consists in emotions of the mind which are involunta- 
ry, and are neither sinful nor holy, I think cannot be reason- J 
ably questioned. The existence of the class of lender sym- I 
pathies, which lead us to weep at the sight of distress, is ad* ^ 
mitted. And is not the existence of the other class equalljr 
evident? What are those emotions which are excited by 
martial music? Why does the sight of a military pageant 
attract the attention of the multitude, and kindle, in so many 
minds, the thirst for military glory ? Why does (he sound of 
the fife and drum wake up all the energies of children; and 
why do we see them, in imitation, marching and counter- 
marching, with their paper caps, and their weapons of wood ? i 
call it enthusiasm, if you will, it is feeling ; and feeling, too, I 
of a lively and animated kind ; it is a tceling that is full of 1 
itre, and spirit, and life, a fcehng that blazes and burns upon i 
you, till you sympathize in it, and burn and glow in like man- 
ner, or till you are greatly annoyed by it, and compelled lo 
flee. This feeling sometimes strongly seizes the female 
mind ; and wherever it does, it efiecis a wonderful transform- 
ation. Let a nation be invaded ; let their energies be roused 
for defence ; let the genuine war spirit be waked up, and all 
ages and sexes will participate, in a greater or less degree. 
Let our wives, and mothers, and daughters, be filled with 
this spirit, and they no longer appear like the same beings. 
The soilness and delicacy so natural to the sex is exchan^d 
for masculine boldness. Those fine sensibilities, that tender- 
ness, and gentleness, and kindness, for which we so much ad- 
mired them, is laid aside. Kvery nerve is braced ; every 
movement is quick and violent ; every look threatens ; e?ery 
eye flashes fire ; every word breathes defiance. And gome, 
when dangers press, and help is needed, disregarding that 
unfitness for rough and hardy enterprises which results from 
iheir delicate frame, will fly to arms, and rush upon the foe. 
And some will outrun their more tardy and phlegmatic hus- 
bands and brothers, and be foremost in the field of contest. 
Such things have been seen. And what is it 7 It is animal 
feeling, no doubt, of a peculiar kind ; and when it gains pos- 
session, it drives out all the animal feelings of the tender 
class, all the soothing sensibilities and weeping sympathiea of 



I 



63 

our nature, and frowna upon them where they appear in ' 
others at such a time, us objects of ineflable Bcorn. 

Now change the subject. Let rehgion be presented in 
such an attitude, and with such accompanimenlfi, aa are 
adapted to affect the nervous system in the same way. Will 
not the same class of feelings be excited ? and will they 
not burn, and blaze, and glow, in like manner! and will 
they not produce the same effects upon those who are the 
subjects of them 1 Have we not examples in the past histo- 
ry of the church 7 and are there not present examples be- 
fore our eyes ? And why should it be thought there Is any 
more holiness in this class of animal feelings, than in the ten- 
der class ? 

If the conclusion to which I have come is correct — that by 
the fire, and spirit, and warmth, which glow, and blaze, and 
burn upon us through this discourse, nothing more is meant 
than mere animal feeling, of the martial kind, applied to the 
subject of religion, the principle will doubtless apply to the 
leading positions taken in the sermon, and satisfactorily ac- 
count for them. — Let us make the esperiment. 

Page 5. " Suppose you hear a dull man preach or pray ; 
while he remains dull, and you are warm with feeling, you 
are not interested, you caimoi be, for your affections are not 
fed and cherished, unless he comes up to your tone." This 
is exactly so, if your feeling is mere animal feeling ; but far 
from it, if il is that holy affection which consists in the love of 
the truth. If the truth is clearly presented, though it should 
be done by a dull man, who does not appear to feel it him- 
self, still that truth would feed and cherish your holy affec- 
tions. And the degree in which your affections would be fed, 
would depend upon the truth presented, and not upon the 
feeling of the speaker. — Satan might be the medium of an- 
nouncing to the angels in heaven that another sinner has re- 
pented, and the tidings would fill them with holy joy, though 
Satan should appear to have no pleasure in the message him- 
self. But in the sermon, it all depends upon the degree of 
feeling manifested by the preacher. If that is below your 
tone, " you are not interested, you cannot be." The feeling 
in you is fed only by the feeling in him, and not by the truths 
he exhibits. And being so, it is animal feeling. For, no- 
thing is plainer, than that the feeling in one which is fed by 
feehng in another, is mere sympathy, and animal feeling. It 
cannot be any thing else. 

So also with the converse ; in which I conclude he means 
to suppose one who is in the exercise of Christian feeUngs, 
though in a low degree. He applies some terms to him, 
which, u I should understand thiem, denote the opposite qC 



I 



p 



Christian feelings ; but as he probably means to make an ex- 
act contrast, I pass over these. Your alTcctions are low — 
you hear the ardent man pray or preach — " if your alfectiona 
will not rise, if they refuse to enkindle ; although you be- 
lieve every word he says, yet you are not pleased. He ia 
above your temperature; you are annoyed with the manner^ 
and fire, and spirit of the man. The higher he rises, ifyour 
affections grovel, the farther apart you are, and the more 
you are displeased. While your heart is wrong, [that is, of 
low temperature,] the nearer ri^Af he is, [that is, the higher hia 
temperature,] the more he burns upon you, if your heart will 
not enkindle, the more you are disgusted." Exactly true 
again, if it is mere animal feeling, of the kind which has been 
described. The state of my nervous system is such, as to be 
pleasantly afTected only with the soft tones of the harp ; but 
he pours upon me '* the din of trumpets, drums, and cym- 
bals," and I am pained and disgusted. But, very different 
is the case, if it is Christian feeling. Though my Christian 
feelings, which consist in the love of the truth, are in a low 
degree, yet if he makes a clear and vivid exhibition of that 
truth which 1 love, I am pleased. And with respect to the 
maimer of the preacher, if it is the eloquence of holy love, 
and I am a Christian, I cannot fail of being delighted wi^ 
it, though ever so much above the tone of my own feehnga. 
Christians are not unfrequently in a state in which their holy 
affections are low ; but never, I believe, in that state in wliica 
the exhibition of that truth which they love does not please 
them. And while that truth which they love is exhibited, 
they are not displeased but delighted at the appearance of 
a high degree of love to it in the preacher. I have never 
known an instance of the contrary, in the circle of my Chris- 
tian friends. And among the revival ministers of my {ac- 
quaintance, I have never known one who was not pleased at 
the exhibition of a high degree of holy feeling in another, 
even though his own feelings should not come up to the same 
temperature. The remarks may hold good, as far as animal 
feelings are concerned ; but will not apply to Christian ex- 
perience. 

Again, page G, he says, " We may learn why persons dif- 
fering in theory upon doctrinal points in religion, and belong- 
' ing to different denominations, will often, lor a lime, walk 
together in great harmony and affection. It is because they 
feel deeply, and feel alike. Their differences are in a great 
measure lost or forgotten, while they fall in with each other's 
state of feeling.'^ It has often been noticed that those, be- 
tween whose professed doctrinal views there is the greatest 
difference, do sometimes thus harmonize. Some have wtm- 



I 



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I 



65 

dered at it ; but others have understood it well. The trua 
reason is here given, if by feeling is understood animal feel- 
ing. But if their feeling consisted in liie love of what liiey 
respectively consider as truth, there would be no such ngree- 
ment ; and the more of that kind of feeling each had, the far- 
ther asunder they would be. But, let two persona, thus dif- 
fering from each other in their doctrinal views, bo filled with 
the kind of animal feeling which Ims been mentioned, that ts, 
the martial kind, and let their religion cuutiisl chiefly in this, 
and their differences are easily forgotten, for neither will at- 
tach much importance to them. They can meet together, 
and readily join in the same manner of expressing iheir feel- 
ings. They can sigh, and groan, and vociferate, in perfect 
harmony; they can think a noisy and tumultuous meeting a 
great excellence, and an evidence of the peculiar presence of 
the Holy Spirit-, they can cry out, and fall down, and have 
" the power," and speak and pray, all at once, males and fe- 
males, old and young, and find a perfect unison of feeling in 
it all, "It is because they feel deeply, and feel alike.''^ And 
this accounts for what some liavc wondered at, that some 
ngminal Calvintsta have thought it a high commendation of 
the new measures, to say, they were so much like those prac- 
tised by the Methodists; and that some Methodists have 
said the new converts made under these measures were re- 
ally Metliodisls, and it was not fair to hurry them into Cal- 
vinistic churches, before they had time to discover their pro- 
per home. 

Again, page 6. " We see why young converts love to as* 
Bociate with each oilur, and with those older saints who have 
most reUgiOiis feeling ; these walk together, because they 
/eel alike." Young converts have been often spoken of, in 
these days, as being much nearer right than old Christians; 
and it is doubtless true, if to have the most of this kind of 
animal feeling is to be nearest right. Old Christians, who 
have grown in the knowledge of the scriptures and of them- 
selves, know well, that when they were young converts, they 
had much more of that kind of animal feeling, and much less 
of that feeling which consists in the love of the truth. Their 
knowledge of the truth was then very small, and they could 
not love any more than they knew. With their increasing 
knowledge of the truth, that feeling which consists in the 
Inve of the truth, has increased, but their animal feeling has 
diminished. Young converts having much animal feelins, 
and but little else, of course harmonize most with eadi 
other, and with such old Christians as have not grown 
knowledge nor in the love of the truth, but have alwL^ 
made their religion to consist chiefly in animal feolini 



I 





The fact is correctljr accounted for, if it is animal 
that is meant. 

Again, page 6. " We sec why lukewarm professors and 
impenitent sinners have the same ditHcultics with means, 
in revivals of religion. We often hear them complain of 
the manner of preaching and praying. Their objections are 
the same : the reason is, that their atfections are nearly the 
Hame, It is the fire and the spirit that disturb their frosty 
hearts," By lukewarm professors understand those whose 
feeling is not up to the required temperature, those who have 
not imbibed this martial spirit. By the manner of preaching 
and praying, of which they complain, understand that man- 
ner which is expressive of this kind of animal feeling, at its 
high temperature. It is the spirit of war. It attacks impe- 
nitent sinners, and those professors who do not come up to 
the required temperature, with the same abrupt, harsh, re- 
proachful, and provoking language. Such professors, being 
cool, and not having their judgment biassed by passion, re- 
gard such treatment as improper, and inconsistent with the 
meek, and mild, and gentle, and benevolent temper of 
gospel ; and if tliey say any thing on the subject, they eipi 
this judgment. And those impenitent sinners who arei 
pleased on this account, or on any other account, will 
most likely to make the same objections. The fact that they 
make the same objections is very tar from proving a likeness of 
moral character between them, as has been already shown. 
But the fact that they are alike " annoyed by the wannth 
and spirit" with which they are fiercely attacked, does prove, 
I am willing to admit, that they neither of them enter into 
this kind of feeling, and have not the same spirit enkindled 
within them. They are alike destitute, for the time, of this 
class of animal feeling. But, if the feeling spoken of, were 
the love of the truth, it would produce very different effects 
upon the impenitent, and upon those Christians whose ailec- 
tions are low. The impenitent would probably be displeased 
with the truth exhibited, if they felt it at all ; and they might 
complain that it should be urged with so much warmth. But 
Christians would not be displeased with that truth which they 
love ; nor would they be displeased to see others love it in a 
very high degree ; nor would they complain that it was urged 
with too much warmth, provided it were done with decori 
and in the spirit of meekness. 

Again, page 7. "We see why ministers visiting 
often, at first, raise objections to the means used, and cai 
and sometimes take sides with the wicked :* the prani 

wicked,^ Tliote ntui maVe &n; oVi^ftctioTA ivc &«,iva>HiK«& ^^)!b 



Ifae 





preaching, and cooversatioQ are above their present tempe- 
rature." It appears not to be the truth which is exhibited, 
that disturbs them, but the temperature. They often object 
to this, " at first," which imphes, that they often afterwardi 
fall in. Now, this is exactly descriptive of the effect of this 
kind of animal feeling. Animal feeling in one has a tendenr 
cy to produce the same kind of animal feeling in another, by 
mere sympatliy ; and it often doea. So that those who were 
not affected by it "a( _first" may come into it afterwards. 
At first they judged with coolness, and disapproved, because 
what they witnessed was not according to the law and the 
testimony. But afterwards, when they began to come under 
the influence of the same animal feeling, their passions over- 
came their judgment, and their scruples of conscience, and 
they were prepared to fall in. Many instances of this have 
no doubt occurred ; and they arc easily accounted for, if it 
is animal feeling. They objected, at first, because it was 
contrary to their settled judgment, deliberately formed from 
the study of the scriptures, and the experience of themselves 
and others, and their acquaintance with the historj' of revi- 
vals. But they fell in aOerwards, because their animal feel- 
ings were moved by sympathy, till they were carried away. 
And the less spiritual they were, the more readily they wera 
brought to fall in, because they had less holy affection, and 
less of the force of conscience to be overcome. 

Again, page 7. '' We see why ministers and private Chris- 
tians differ about /jrutfcnfia/ measures." And "we see the 
same person having very different notions of pntdence, and, 
consequently, practisiug very difi'erently at different times." 
The idea seems to be, that the man wnose feeling is at the 
high temperature, will judge differently as to what is prudent, 
from the man whose feeling is at the low temperature. And 
that the man who is at the low temperature, is not, and cannot 
be, qualilicd to judge what is right, in point of prudence, for 
the man to do, wiio is at the high temperature. It is doubt- 
less true, that tlie man who suffers his animal feelings to con- 
trol his judgment, will judge differently when most under the 
influence of his passions, from what he does when least under 
their influence. And while passion reigns, he will be very 
likely to think it right so to do ; but when passion cools, and 
reason resumes her sway, and conscience and the bible are 
again Euffeied to speak, he will be convinced he was wrong 
in thinking so. 

Again, page 8. " We may learn how to estimate the opin- 
ions of mi.iisters and Christians, and our own (/pinions, when 
our affections are in a bad state." By bad state, understand 
the /ow' temperature, when paseion \\aB vVft Va*V"TOS\»feTv^»,»»^i 



I 



1 




we have the meaning of the rule. The man who is oni 
the influence of passion, approves of what his passions ii 
cline him to do ; but the man who is least under the infln-' 
ence of passion, and judges by the known rule^ of the word 
of God, will condemn him for so doing. Tiic meaning io- 
tended, doubtless, is, that the former is right ; but every sober 
Christian, who means to follow his bible, must say, that the 
latter is right. The whole paragraph might be assented to, 
and the conclusion drawn be exactly the reverse of what the 
author evidently intended. So with the resolution of K ' 
wards here quoted, "that he would always act as he saw 
be most proper when he had the clearest views of the thing|| 
of religion.'" All would assent to the resolution; but C ~^ 
considerate man would apply it directly to contradict the 
timents of the sermon. The clearest views, are not then 
which we have when our animal feelings are most excited, 
but when they are the least so, when the mind looks at di- 
vine things with the greatest calmness and deliberation. 

Again, page 9. "We learn why ciiurches are sometimea 
convulsed by revivals of religion." " As those who are 
awake become more engaged, more spiritual and active, the 
others, if they will not awake, will be jealous and oflended, 
and feeling rebuked by the engagedness of others, will cavil, 
and find themselves the more displeased, as those that are 
more spiritual rise farther above them. The nearer to a right 
state of feeling the engaged ones arrive, the farther apart 
they are j and as ihoy asemd on the scale of holy feeling, if 
others will not am.aid with them, the almost certain conse- 
quence will be, that these wilt descend, until they really have 
no communitt/ of feeling, and can no longer walk together, 
because they arc not agreed.'' He is speaking of real Chris- 
tians, whom he supposes an eminently pure revival of relig' 
thus to drive asunder, (ill there is notliing in common betwt 
them. Is it so 1 Do not real Christiana feci complacency il 
the image of Christ wherever they see it ? And does not 
their complacency increase, as more of that image becomes 
visible 7 If they sec others have more of it than themselves, 
does it displease and offend them ? The divisions and dis- 
tractions of churches, ^which the new measures have bo of- 
ten occasioned in these days, as similar measures did in the 
days of Davenport, doubtless rendered it of great importance 
to endeavour to account for those divisions and convulsions, 
in a way that should prove that the new measures are right ; 
and that those measures for promoting revivals are wrong, 
which have been so long and so successfully used in Jiew-, 
England, by the most distinguished promoter of revivals &' 
our age, and which ate 8od\ffeTewX^'to\nftvc^'i,M\4.Vast\Ki 



the 







doced so different an effect upon the churches, leaving them 
generally united, and happy, and strengthened, instead of 
L being divided, distracted, and wretched, and weak. Theau- 
lithor accounts for it, perhaps, in the way which best meets 
tbis views. But it would have been better adapted lo instruct 
I ethers, if he had given us some rule by which to Judge when 
^^ople are awake, and when they are not. As he gives ua 
[ none but the general one of the high and low temperature, 
I the deftree of feeling, and not the kind, and as it has been 
[ shown that the kind intended must be the animal feeling of 
k the martial class, there is no diHiculty in accounting for its 
[■l^oducing such effects. Some Christians will imbibe it, and 
I under its influence will " glow, and blaze, and burn," on all 
I Around them; that is, they will, with true martial fire and 
X q>irit, fall upon those who do not come up to the same tem- 
perature, and greatly anoy them with their denunciations and 
reproaches, calling them cold, and stupid and dead, and it 
may be hypocrites and apostates, and perhaps publicly pray- 
ing for them by name as such, till they are more and more 
disgusted, pained, and distressed, and the church is rent in 
pieces. Not so with a revival of true religion, which in- 
creases the spirit of the gospel, the spirit of meekness, and 
kindness, and gentleness, and brotherly affection. If a por- 
tion of the members of the church have an increase of this, 
and some others have not, it will lead those who have, to treat 
such as have not, in a manner that tends to win them, rather 
than to displease and enrage them. This is on the supposi- 
tion that both classes are real Christians, who love the same 
truths, and differ only in their degree of holy feeling. Church- 
es have sometimes been convulsed, through the opposition of 
some of Iheir members to the truths of the gospel, which 
were more forcibly and plainly exhibited at such a time, and 
the view of which they could not bear, because ihey did not 
love them. But this is a case entirely different from the one 
exhibited in the sermon before us. 

Again, page 9. " Wc see why ministers are sometimes un- 
settled by revivals." He 9U])po9CS that a minister may 
awake, and that many of his people will not; in which case 
he concludes the minister " will most assuredly press them 
with truth, and annoy them by his spirit, ami pungency, and 
fire, until he offends them." "Another case may occur, 
where the church and people may awake, while the shepherd 
sleeps, and will not awake. This will inevitably alienate 
their affections from him, and destroy their confidence in 
him." " In the former case, let the minister obey the com- 
mand of Christ, and 'shake off" the dust of his Ceels^W ii.\.s3ep 
limoi)^ against them.' In the \aUei,\et \.W (^Mtrift ■iVuike ' 



I 



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I 



their tleepy minister ; they are better without him than with 
him." Here, as in many other places, there is a semblance 
of truth in what is said; and if it had been correctly explain- 
ed, and carefully guarded, it might pass. But, with the in- 
terpretation which the general tenor of the discourse re- 
quires, and with the meaning which hearers and readers 
generally would understand, in its connexion, and under the 
circumstances in which it was preached,* it is a bold attempt 
to carry the new measures out into all their legitimate coo- 
sequences. It has the semblance of truth : becaui 
ter may give offence by the clear and faithful exhibition 
the doctrines of the bible i or he may displease the sound) 
members of his church by refusing to exhibit them. But il 
is not the preaching of the doclrines ivhich is hero intended. 
Plain preaching, and preaching the truth, in the vocabulaij 
of those who adopt the new measures, do not mean preach- 
ing the doctrines clearly and abundantly ; with which offence 
I believe they ought not to be charged. It has reference lo 
the manner in which people are addressed," the spirit, and pun- 
gency, and fire," witli which the preacher " glows, and bl&zea, 
and burns upon tliem." It has reference to that of which 
people complain as harsh and abusive treatment. Those 
who are the best friends of the plain exhibition of the doc- 
trines of the gospel, and those who have been long known 
the best friends of revivals, have complained of this; 
here is an attempt to assign the reason. It is because tbi 
" will not enter into the spirit of a revival ;" that is, they 
not enter into the new measures, they do not give way to 
this class of animal feeling, nor suffer their judgment to be 
overborne by the violence of passion. And the minister who 
does, and cannot bring his people " up to if," must leave 
them. But if the church enter into this spirit, and the minis- 
ter does not, " let them shake off' their slccpt/ minister," This 
is certainly taking a bold stand ; and is going one step far- 
ther than Davenport and the old Separates, They only 
withdrew, and separated themselves from those they de- 
nounced as "cold and sleepy ministers" in their way. But, 
times have altered ; and it is much easier now to " shake off" 
a minister that is disliked, than it was then. So that this is 
the first thing to be attempted ; and if this attempt should not 
succeed, they may then separate themselves, as a last resort 

I If an individual awakes, that is, if he adopts these new mea- 
■ 
• Il was when iho Prcsliylorj- were about Wlcnding to difflcaltiei 
which had grown out of the imroducUon oC Uie new mciisurea, a( Ihe place 
wherolhev were met, and where HicSiwioaTw was ^tewJosi. 



ini>N^^H 



I 



aodfl^H 




Hures, and gels full of that kind of animal feeling which they 
promote, he must try to bring lits minister into the same spi- 
rit ; and if he cannot succeed, he must go about and try to 
raise a party to " shake him off." I have heard of such ad- 
vice being given privately to individuals, in particular cases, 
but this is the firgt time I have ever known it to be pubUcly 
preached and printed, as serious advice in all cases. And 
what is the rule by which individual church members may 
know when it is their duty to set about his work, and try to 
" shake ofl" their sleepy minister ?" No rule is given in this 
immediate connexion; but perhaps one is found on the 12th 
page: "If the matter of preaching is right, and the sinner is 
pJeaged, there ia something defective in the manner." If the un- 
converted part of the congregation are generally satisfied with 
the minister, it is a certain indication that he is a " sleepy mi- 
nister," and ought to be " shaken off." Individuals, then, have 
only to ask whether the congregation are generally in peace, 
and satisfied with their minister ; and if they are, it is their 
duty to commence measures to drive him away. For ad- 
vising less than this, in Boston, Davenport was indicted by 
the grand jury, as a disturber of the peace, and acquitted on 
his trial, solely on the ground of being insane at the time. 
And when he afterwurds " came to himself," he made and 
published a confession of it; which, though it had a good ap- 
pearance as it regarded his own piety, did not stop the pro- 
gress of those evils which his disorderly measures had intro- 
duced, and the permanent effects of which remain to this 
day. And instances are not wanting, in our own times, of 
those who have acted upon the principles of this sermon. 

Some have already arisen to "shake off their sleepy mi- 
nisters," and have succeeded in their attempts. Others have 
endeavoured to do it, and have failed. One case has occur- 
red in Durham, in the church under the care of the Rev. Beth 
Williston, whose character as an active and successful pro- 
moter of revivals has been long established, and is well 
known. The story is, in substance as follows : A young con- 
vert from the West made his appearance there, saying, that 
he "knew all about how to conduct revivals," and pointing 
to the meeting-house, told of the " abominations that were 
portrayed on those walls." He talked insolently to the mi- 
nister, and then to the people against him. And after an 
evening lecture which Mr. W. preached, he dropped on his 
knees, and told the Lord a long story about Mr, W., and how 
he had talked to him, and what he had said in his sermon 
that wap false, and so tried to convince the people and the 
Lord that Mr. W. was a liar, and going down to hel^ \? W 
did not repent. Upon Mr. We. uymg,\.o t:.«\ixi 'iafcijao^* 



i 



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I 



by putting the most charitable construction upon bis con- 
duct, that of his not being in his right mind, his brother, who 
was a member of the church, arose, and told the people ihi 
Mr. W. was " the head Achan in the camp," and that 
character was as black as hell,^' &c., upon which some 
and tried to still tliein, while the minister and others relii 
For his conduct that evening, this member was laboured widi 
by the brethren, and justiRed himself on the principles of this 
sermon. He said he had nothing against Mr. W., but he 
" did it to have a revival." And so strongly was he peiv 
suaded that he was in the way of his duty, in thus eodeavo 
ins to wake up or " shake o9~ his sleepy minister," that evi 
eflort to convince him of his fault was utterly fruitlesa, 
the church felt compelled to proceed to excommunicati 
Had not this church been more understandingly and decidi 
ly attached to the cause of pure revivals than is coromi 
and had not their minlsler been a man of singular piety 
prudence, it seems very probable that he would have been 
"shaken ofT' and dismissed in consequence uf these things, 
as, it is believed, several have been in consequence of 
lar measures. One instance of the latter kind, is that whii 
occurred in Stockholm, where the Rev. Moses Parmlee, 
known and decided friend to revivals, was publicly denoi 
ced, both in direct declarations and in prayer, as " a hireli 
— an Achan — in the gall of bitterness — in such a slate 
the Lord could not convert sinners in his presence," &c. 
this case, those who made the at tempt succeeded in "shal 
off their sleepy minister," as appears from the result of the 
council which dismissed him, published at Potsdam, April, 
1837. It may be said, that these cases occurred before the 
publication of the sermon. This is true; but when those 
who were concerned in them shall read the sermon, I tfaink 
they will not -fait of feeling conlirmcd and strengthened in 
their proceedings, by the principles and advice it conlaios. 

Again, page 10. " We may see that carnal professoK and 
ahmers have no difficulty with a/iimu//ec/tn^r." Page 11. 
*' Adopt a strain of exhortation or preaching that is cuculti- 
tcd to awaken mere sympathy and animal feeling, and yoa 
will soon SCO that there is a perfect community of feeling 
among cold and warm hearted Christians and sinners ; tbey 
will all weep, and seem to melt, and no one will be ofiiend- 
ed." " But change your style, and become more spiritual 
and holy in your matter, and throw yourself out in an ardent 
and powerful manner, in direct appeal to the conscience and 
the heart — their tears will be dried, the carnal and cold 
hearted will soon become uneasy, and soon find ihemseh 
offended." I think this is liot exactly so, even if explsini 



WDO 



simi- 




73 

according In the kfi/ before inoDtiooed. Let us paraphrase 
it. The clafjij ol' animal feeling condemned, is the tender, 
weeping class. What is called spiritual and holy feeling, is 
the martial class. Mere tragic painting will excite the one 
class ; " they will all weep, and seem to melt, and no one 
will be offended." But, difJereDt constitutions have tliia kind 
of sensibility in different degrees; and those who are full of 
the martial kind of animal feeling, have, for the time, very 
little of this, and are often displeased to see it. Let an u- 
sembly, however, be deeply affected with this disposition lo 
weep; and tiien "change your style, and become more" 
martial " iii your matter, and throw yourself out in an ardent 
and powerful manner, in direct appeal to" the other class of 
animal feeling, that is, the martial class, " their tears will 80<Ml 
be dried ;" those who enter into this spirit will not weep, 
they will burn and blaze. Those who do not enter into it, 
" will become uneasy, and soon tind themselves offended." 
But those who have the tvar spirit, will be offended at the 
tragic painting, which was addressed to the weeping sensi- 
bilities, and with which the other class are gratified, as much 
perhaps as those who have the tender kind of animal feeling 
are offended at the martial fire, in this case. And both on 
the principles illustrated by the effects of the two kinds of 
music mentioned on the 5th page of the sermon. In this 

^Jilace I sec not how to reconcile the author with himself, any 

^vetter than with facts. 

Again, page I \. " We learn how to estimate apparent re- 

rmtiah where there is no opposition from tlie wicked." 

Page 1% " That excitement which does not call out the 

[■ opposition of the wicked and wrong hearted, is either not a 

i' revival of religion at all, or it is so conducted that sinners do 
not see the finger of God in it." And farther, " Those moans 
land that preaching, both as to matter and manner^ which call 

kferth most of the native enmity of the heart, are nearest 
ight." Here, again, is some appearance of truth, but so 
ubibited as to make a wrong impression. The clear exhi- 

rtition of the dt>ctnnes of the bible is adapted to excite the 
enmity of the carnal heart, and often does, in a high degree. 
But it is not tlie clear exhibition of the doctrines of the gos- 
pel, that this discourse is designed to defend ; it is somothiag 
very different. The new measures have excited much oppo- 
sition ; and that opposition is to be accounted for, in such a 
way aa to make it prove that the new measures are nearest 
right. And the impression is also to be made, that these re- 
vivals which ore taking place without the new measures, are 
wrong, because they excite less open and violent opposition. 
Tiie truth, doubtless, is, that in some places, the doctrines of 
10 



ihe gospel have been bo long and bo clearly preacbed, that 
Ihe congregation in general have the conviction that they 
are true, and that they are the appointed means of the con- 
viction and convcrson of sinners. Their selfish desire of be- 
ing happy hereafter leads them to wish to have those doc- 
trines preached, by means of which alone they have any hope 
that they shall ever be saved. And when they are so tar 
awakened, and have so much conviction of sin, as to tiillhera 
with deep distre^is, and make those doctrines painful to them, 
they yet wish to have them kept before their minds, on the 
same principle that a man wishes to have the surgeon apply 
his probe or his amputating knife to a diseased limb, as the 
means of saving his life. In such cases, where the right 
means are used with the greatest fidelity, but yet with the 
Icnderness and kindness which the gospel requires, do op«i 
opposition is to be eipected. And it is to me a pleasant cir- 
cumstance, when [ read an account of a revival in a place 
where I think the people have correct instruction, to find it 
stated that there is no open opposition. I infer, that the 
consciences of the impenitent are so kept on the side of truth, 
that they are disposed to give it a favourable hearing; and 
that there is consequently some reason to hope it will yet 
be made effectual to their conviction and conversion, ia- 
Etcad of concluding "it is not a revival of religion at all, or 
that it must be so conducted that sinners do not see the fin- 
ger of God in it," an the author does, I draw the contrary 
conclusion, and am led to hope for its longer continuance, 
its better permanent effects, and its being followed by a less 
injurious reaction when it has passed by. As it is the great 
object of the sermon, however, to justify the new measures, 
and to turn the objections which are made against them into 
proof of their being right ; all those measures for promoting 
revivals which arc not thus opposed must be condemned as 
wrong ; and all those revivals, which are now taking place 
without the new measures, and witiiout the opposition ihef 
excite, and without " making a great deal of noUe in IMP 
world," under such measures, as have been in use for th*' 
last thirty years, and sanctioned by the name of a man who 
is deservedly dear to all the friends of pure revivals, must be 
put down, as " no revivals of religion at all, or so conducted 
that sinners do not sec the finger of God in them." 

The remainder of the discourse is principally directed to 
this object, and especially what is said of the preaching of 
Christ and his apostles, and the opposition which it excited. 
A cursory reader, who did not carefully attend to his bible, 
would be led to suppose that the preaching of Christ and the 
apostles was always " opposed with great bitterness," aad 



that if any preachers now are not tlius opposed, it proves that 
they are not like Christ and the apostles. And the compari- 
son is not obscurely made between those " professors of reli- 
gion," who were then "often leaders in the opposition, tho 
religious teachers and learned doctors" of that day, and the 
professors of religion and ministers of this day who oppose 
the new measures. And the idea is plainly communicated, 
that the complr.ints against the advocates of tht; new mea- 
sures, of being " ifitpnident ; their preaching too overbear- 
ing and severe," and there being " something terong in their 
management of revivals," might have been as justly made 
against Christ and the apostles ; and are rather to be consi- 
dered as evidence of a striking likeness between these men 
und Christ and the apostles. And there is a very offensive 
insinuation of "great spiritual pride," and the study of "car- 
nal policy and management," and a " hypocritical suavity of 
manner," made against some of the most experienced pro- 
moters of revivals, at the present day, in consequence of what 
they have said about " the theory of revivals being better un- 
derstood now" than in the days of Davenport, and the prefe- 
rence they have given to measures which are mild and gentle 
in their nature, and silent and still in their operation, over 
those which are ostentations and noisy, and adapted to stir 
up opposition ; as if they pretended to be more prudent and 
wise than the apostles, instead of merely claiming, as they 
do, to understand the management of revivals better than 
Davenport and his insane followers. And the concluding 
Bentences are, " let us not be puffed up, and imagine that 
we are prudent and wise, and have learned how to manage 
carnal professors and sinners, whose 'carnal mind is enmity 
against God,' so as not to call forth their opposition to truth 
and holiness, as Christ and his apostles did. But let us know, 
that if they have less difficulty with us, and with our lives and 
preaching, than they had with (heirs, it is because we are less 
toly, less heavenly, less like God, than they were. If we 
walk with the lukewarm and ungodly, or they with us, it is 
because wc are agreed : for two cannot walk together except 
they be agreed. 

The principle upon which all this is founded, is, that an 
impenitent sinner conlff not be pleased with the preaching or 
conduct of the Lord Jesus Christ, nor with any preaching or 
conduct that is right. If a Christian lives as he ought, and 
if a minister preaches as he ought, it cannot fail, according 
to this theory, to give offence. The author savs, "Ifthe mat- 
ter of preaching m right, and the sinner is pleased, there is 
something defective in the tnemncr," And not only must 
right preaching give offence to some sinners, but it must give 



I 




«i withj 

irroqiJjH 



I 



I 

I 



offence to all sinners. And it must not only give offence to 
every sinner at aomc times, bci it must give offence to every 
einner at all times. For, whenever the siDner is pleased vr"^ " 
anj thing in the Christian, it proves that that thing is wro 
If any exception is admitted to this rule, it will destroy ll 
whole discourse, and defeat its object entirely. A few e 
amples will suffice to show its fallacy ; and any child, who 
roads his bible, can find others in abundance. 

" Herod heard John gladly'* and was induced by what he 
said to " do many things," What was the defect in John's 
preaching? Was it wrong in )n«/?*T, or wrong in nxinRcr, 
that Herod was pleased ? Afterwards, when he was disposed 
to put John Id death, to gratify a wicked woman, he feared 
the multitude, because they counted John as a prophet- 
John had gained so strong a hold on the affections of tbc 
multitude that Herod was afraid his putting him to death 
would excite an insurrection. Will it be said, the multitude 
were saints, or that John had been unfaithful ? When Christ 
asked the chief priests and scribes about the baptism of Jobo, 
they were afraid to say it was of men, and this was the rea- 
son, " If wc say, of men, all llic people will stone us.'' Ac- 
cording to the principle of this discourse, John must have 
been a very bad man, very unfaithful, to have excited such 
feeling in his favour among the mass of the people, that the 
chief priests and elders were afraid of being stoned, if ihey 
should say a word against him. To those very Jews who 
were seeking hia life, Christ said of John, "He was a burn- 
ing and a shining light ; and yc were willing for a season lo 
rejoice in his light." What wag the fault of John, which 
they were pleased with, and rejoiced in ? No fault at all ; 
they rejoiced in his Ugh. John was austere in his manners, 
and eminently faithful in the ministry ; yet the expressions of 
being pleased with Kim and his preaching, which we find od re- 
cord, are much more numerous than those of a contra^- na- 
ture. The scribes and pharisces were displeased ; but thftj 
common people, the great mass of the nation, though uncoMH 
verted, were very much in his favour. JB 

They were pleased also with the Lord Jesus Christ. Great 
multitudes followed him, and pressed upon him lo hear him. 
BO that he was frequently so thronged as not to find lime to 
take food or rest. The scribes and pharisees were displeased, 
but " the common people heard him gladly." He taught in 
the synagogues of Galilee, "being glorified of all." Ac- 
cording to our author, there must have been something wrong 
in his preaching. Which was it, " defective in mattrr or de- 
fective in manner ?" When he passed over the ses lo the 
country of the Gadarenes, the people of the other aide wait- 



77 

cd for his return, and received iiim gladly. On one occa- 
sion, he was compelled to withdraw from the multitude, to 
prevent their taking him by force and making him a k'm^. 
When he came openly to Jerusalem, for the last time, " much , 
people that were come to the feast, took branches of palm i 
trees, and went forth to meet him, and cried Ilosannahj ' 
blessed is the king of Israel that cometh in the name of the 
Lord." And when the Pharisees saw it, they said among 
themselves, " Perceive ye how ye prevail nothing ? behold, 
the world is gone afler him." We read, very often, that the 
chief priests and scribes sought how they might take him by 
subtlety, and put him to death ; and were in great difficulty 
how to accomplish it, for fear of the people. 

" But they said. Not on the feast day, lest there be an uiv 
roar among the people." So strongly were the great mass 
of the people, though a race of impenitent sinners, prepo»- 
sesBcd io his favour, that his enemies were obliged to hire Ju- 
das to betray him in the night, in the absence of the multi- 
tude, and then to fasten upon him the charge of blasphemy, 
before the chief priests, and obtain the consent of tlie Roman 
governor to his death. How is all this to be accounted for T 
Had he been unfaithful in his dealing with llie common peo- 
ple 1 Had he walked with them, or tliey with him, because | 
they were ti^recd in their moral character 7 No. Yet the 
number of those that were pleased appears to have been I 
much greater than the number of those that were displeased. < 
And it was only by craft and subtlety, and false accusational ] 
that his enemies could find how to accomplish their designSt | 

The same appears to be true of the apostles, and of thev i 
ministry. Read the Acts of the Apostles through, and yoa 
will find abundant evidence of this, In all cases of persecu- 
tion against them, it was stirred up by the few ; while the 
many, if they had been let alone, were inclined to favour 
them, or at least to treat them with respect. The revival on 
the day of Pentecost overcame all opposition, for a time ; so 
that it is wcitten of the disciples, " and they, continuing dai- 
ly with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from 
house to house, did eat their meat with gladness and single- 
ness of heart, praising God, and having fucour wiih all the 
people. And the Lord added to the cliurcli daily such as 
should be saved." When on the occasion of tlie healing of 
the lame man, Peter and John were apprehended, and 
brought before the rulers, they did not dare to pnnlsb them, 
"because of the people." When they were apprehended 
again, the oHicers were afraid to olfcr any violence to them, 
lest ihey themselves should have been stoned by the multi- 
tude. There was no danger of their being stoned by those 



I 

I 



who were converted, but by tliose who were miconverled, 
who were strongly inclined to favour and protect the apos- 
tles against their persecuting rulers. !n several places where 
Paul Etnd his companions suffered persecution, they were &- 
vourably received and well treated by the multitude, till cer^; 
tain designing individuals came from other places, and by 
their intrigues raised a persecution against them. Paul; 
■bode on the island of Mehla three months, without the least 
appearance of opposition that we read of, but, on the contra- 
ry, was " honoured with many honours." 

Do these things prove that John the Baptist, Jesus Christ, 
and the apostles, walked, in all these cases, with the ungodly, 
or the ungodly with them, because they were agreed in their 
moral character ? No ; it cannot be pretended. 

Will the ungodly world, then, be generally pleased with 
the exhibition of Christianity in its purest form 1 and if so, 
what becomes of the doctrine that " the carnal mind is en- 
mity against God ?" The answer is not difficult. Men o( 
sense, though unconverted, can and do see, that the Chris- 
tian character, in its perfect form, is excellent and lovely > 
and it commands their respect and admiration, when viewed 
in its true light, and secures their consciences in its favour. 
And though the hearts of men are naturally selfisli, and sel- 
fishness is the opposite of the Christian temper, yet men can 
see that it is for their advantage to have others live like 
Christians, and treat them as the gospel requires. Their own 
■elhsb feelings arc gratihed, in many instances, by having 
others do justly, love mercy, and walk circumspectly. It is 
only when the temper of the gospel is expressed in a wa^ 
which crosses their path and thwarts their selfish wishes, that it 
rouses their opposition. And tliis is the reason why the clear 
exhibition of the doctrines of the gospel is so peculiarly of- 
fensive, particularly the divine sovereignly, in disposing m »U 
creatures and all events as is for the greatest good, and the 
necessity of self-denial, in order to be Christ's disciples. 
These things will give offence, if they are felt at all, unless 
Aose on whom they are urged are so convinced of iheir truth 
and importance, that their scllish regard for their own safety 
* silences their opposition, as has been observed. But the op- 
position which is made to the new measures is not on tltia 
ground. The advocates of them are complained of, for not 
preaching those doctrines which are considered so peculiarly 
offensive to the unrenewed heart, so much, so plainly, and so 
powerfully, as other revival ministers have done. The op- 
position is on far different grounds ; and in view of what has 
been observed, is plainly no evidence at all in their 
Nor is it safe to conclude, that the want of opposition 



I 



I 

> 

eir fevour. ^H 
osition to ^H 



79 

other measares for promoting revivala is any evidence againit 
them, without taking into view the circumstaDces ofthe c&aa, 
and finding proof from them that it is the want of faithfulnen 
in the exhibition of truth, or in the urging of duty. We 
must not adopt a rule of judging, in this matter, that would 
condemn the Lord Jesus and his inspired apostles, as well ag 
those at this day whom we may wish to condemn. 

Perhaps an apology is necessary for giving to tliis di»- 
course a review of such a length. Neither the talents nor 
standing of the author, nor any thing in the discourse itself^ 
if it had been pubhshed under ordinary circumstances, would 
. have induced me to bestow so much attention upon it. But 
the system of measures with which it is connected, and ofl 
which it is a defence, is so calamitous in its tendency, and ik 
urged on by its advocates with so much ardour and perse- 
verance, the discourse, from the semblance of truth which it 
wears, and the different interpretations which may be given 
it, when objected to, is so well adapted to produce the impres- 
sion intended on the minds of those who follow their feelings 
more than their judgment, and has been multiplied and cir- 
culated with so much zeal, that there appears to me to be 
great cause of alarm. Though professedly adiscourse upon 
the subject of Christian experience and revivals of religion, it 
is so destitute of any correct distinctions, and so well adapted 
to justify false zeal, false atfections, and spurious conversions, 
and BO capable of being applied to sanction every species 
and degree of enthusiasm and fanaticism, and to condeznn 
all sober revivals, and all those measures for promoting revi- 
vals which have stood the test of ages, that the importance ol 
the subject appears to me to justify, and call for still more a^ 
tcntion than has been paid to it. And if such a discouma' 
shall be circulated by thousands in even' direction, and be 
admired by many, and the watchmen of Israel should reganl 
it with apathy, I should consider it as a most alarming indica- 
tion that false religion and spurious revivals were about to 
have a far wider spread than our country has ever witnessed.. 
I cannot think, however, that the author of this discourse 
can obtain the countenance and support of ministers and 
Christians generally, and especially of the friends of revivab| 
till he shall publicly retract the erroneous sentiments it con- 
tains, and make a confession before the world for the injuri- 
ous charges it labours to cstabhsh against all who disapprove 
of the new measures ; and especially for giving such advice 
to " shake off their sleepy ministers," as all disorganizers will 
consider a full warrant for any disorderly measures they may 
be inclined to pursue to accomplish that end. And I b^ 
lievc the Chtistian public must and will hold responsible Sat. 



I 




these errors any who tthaU continue lu give the author IheJr 
countenance and support, so long as be shall refuse lo make 
fluch a retraction. 4 

In conclusion, 1 cannot do justice lo my own feelings with^ 
out solemnly calling upon the author of this discourse to re^ 
examine his own experience, and see whether there is anj' 
thing in it of a fliffercnt nature from what he here urges upon 
Mhera. When a man preaches and publishes a sermon upon 
a subject so highly experimental as this, it is to be expected, 
4hat, if ho understands himself, ho will disclose the nature of I 
hie own experienco, and require that of others to be as good'T 
as his own, But if there is nothing in tlic experience of the I 
Author, better than what appears in this discourse, I cannot ■ 
but have the most serious tears that he has deceived himself 1 
and will tind, at last, that he has made a fatal mistake, and fl 
that for eternity. 

NOVANGLUS. 



Dr. Beccfier\ Lelter to Mr. Bemtm. 

Boston, Drc. 15, IS27. 

Gentlemen, — The letter I now send you, has been ofteo 1 
requested for publication. Until the present time I have I 
never been entirely convinced that it was best to publidi it. I 
But recently circumstances to which I need not allude, ban 4 
brought me to the conclusion that it is my duty to consent to j 
its publication. Indeed from the principles contained in Mr. ■ 
Finney's Sermon, and from what 1 know concerning revivals 
which have taken place under his immediate auspices, I am 
sure that the " new measures," as they are justly called, though 
not unattended with some good, do nevertheless introduce 
into revivals another spirit, of whose nature and general in- 
fluence those who countenance these measures seem not to J 
be aware, 

It is a spirit of fanaticism, of spiritual pride, censorious* I 
ness, and insubordination to the order of the Gospel, which, 
if not met by the timely and decided disapprobation of mini*- ' 
ters and churches, tlireatens to become one of the greatest I 
evils which is likely to befall the cause of Christ. 1 

In this opinion 1 am confirmed by all I have seen or hear4 j 
from the commencement of these evils to the present daj. J 



For many who differ from me I have cherished seatiraenta of 
high eBtiniation and do slilt cherish them, with the exception^ 
ofwhat appears to me a dangerous mistake in respect to Ihoi 
" new measures" for promoting Revivals of Rehgion. 

Nor is it my wish lo limit the usefulness of Mr. Finney. 
My constant desire is, that he may he more useful in time to 
come : and I have no doubt he may become more useful than 
ever, if he will cease from and disavow those peculiarities 
which have not been the cause of his usefulness, and by ren- 
dering good men justly afraid of him, have constantly thrown 
impediment in the way of his success. 

1 am respectfully yours, 

LYMAN BEECHER. 



Boston^ January, 1827. 

Dear Brother, — It is some time since 1 have been rejoicing 
in tlie revivals of the West,— as I had hoped, the beginning 
of a new era in revivals, in respect to rapidity and universal- 
ity. I had begun to anticipate as the result, such a power of 
moral sentiment in the West, as, in alliance with New-Eng- 
land and other parts of the church, might ere long raise a 
rampart around the sabbath, and check the burning tide of 
intemperance, and the progress of lieresy and error. 

It is not until recently that a rumor has floated on the 
breeze to excite solicitude. But first by a paragraph in the 
Christian Register, I was alarmed ; and since, by unquestion- 
able information frpm e^e-witnesses and friends of the work, 
my fears have been greatly increased, that Satan, as usual, 
is plotting to dishonour a work which he cannot withstand. 
Far be it &om me, at this distance, to write a letter of advice, 
much less of reproof. I can only pour out my thoughts, from 
my heart, into your bosom, upon such general topics as seem 
to be in the neighbourhood of danger, and ask your candid 
and prayerful attention to the subject ; and I feel the more 
emboldened to hope that my motives will be duly apprecia- 
ted and my suggestions regarded, from the consideration 
that I have not heretofore fallen under the imputation of a 
temporising policy, nor been suspected, I believe of cow- 
ardice. 

Allow mo then, with as little circumlocution as possible, 
to speak my thoughts upon several topics : — T have confi- 
dence in the piety and talents of brother Finney, and have 
no doubt that he brings the truth of God to bear upon the 
conscience with uncommon power, and in a manner highly 
calculated to arouse the public mind, and awaken, and con- 
II 



I 



H vioce of sin. I am aware too, that ministers and churches ia 
f their ordinary state, compared with the spirit of a revival, are 
deplorably lukewarm, and often need strong measures, to 
bring them up to the point of even prudent zeal, and such as 
is indispensable to a powerful work of divine grace. I also 
fully believf, that means adequate lo this end, though ever 
BO prudently applied, must be such as sometimes will offend 
hypocrites and cold hearted professors, who are not reclaim- 
ed by them. I can perceive also, that ministers, frotn a vari- 
ety of causes, are liable to perform their duty less failbfuliy 
towards men of wealth, honour, and high stations, than wilh 
reference to persons in a more humble condition ; and I am 
aware that more directness and plainness may in most and ^ 
probably all cases be employed, than is employed to airecl.^M 
that class of the community, whose influence would be so sal- '^| 
utary to the cause of Christ. V 

I have no doubt that the promises of God, in respect to 
prayer, includes much more than has commonly been apore* 
bended, and that a chief means of promoting those revivals 
which are lo bring down the mountains, and exalt the valleys, 
and introduce the Millennium, is to be found in more compre- 
hensive and correct views concerning the efficacy of prayer. 
Yet still I am satisfied, that there is no subject on which 
ardent minds are more liable to adopt hasty, and lo some ex- 
tent, false opinions, which may lead to pernicious effects. I 
am sure, that much has prevailed on the subject of the prayer 
of faith, as being in accordance wilh my rltwg, which I should 
disavow and exceedingly disapprove. I am persuaded alsu 
that the truths of the Gospel may be commended to tlk 
consciences of all men, both from the pulpit and in generi 
addresses, with more directness and power than they an 
wont to be by ministers generally ; and I am sure thu 
during a revival they can be pressed with a closeness ajidl 
pungency that would not be endured, and might be inexpt 

Idient, in any other circumstances. I am sensible also, ihaL 
the truth cannot be brought to bear simultaneously upon ih^ 
conscience of an extended community, without producintf^ 
great emotion, and producing and justifying cxtraordtflan 
elTorts to obtain and to communicate religious instruction bjj 
meetings of increased frequency, and 1 am not afraid o(V 
poverty or famine from any efforts which men will make tA| 
save their souls. 

I am persuaded too, from the close alliance between thai 

moral and social movements of our nature, that some degreA--4 

of imperfection and indiscretion may be as inseparable irom 

a sudden and powerful revival of religion, as it is from evety 

other sudden and powerful movement of human feeling ; and 




I am utterly fearless of uny of tlic ordinary defects of a re- 
vival on which the enemy hang all their hopes of successful op* 
position. We might as well object to commerce or agn* 
culture, until the entire business of a nation shall be bjr 
every mnn performed with perfect discretion, as to condemn 
revivals of religion, because imperfect and sinful beings, 
when strongly and justly excited, are not perfect in discre- 
tion. 

No man appreciates more highly than I do, the importance 
of ardent, powerful, and fearless preachiDj;, as a means of 
promoting revivals ; or would deprecate more than I should, 
a cold-hearted, timid prudence, which would extinguish zeal 
and weaken the power of holy men when they are constrain- 
ed by the love of Christ and the terrors of the Lord, 

But the more important revivals of religion are, the more 
should we deprecate all needless repellences in the manner 
of conducting them ; and the deeper the wave of public 
feeling which is rolled up by the breath of the Almighty, the 
greater is the danger, and the more injurious the effect of 
mismanagement. The ship pressed by mighty winds upon the 
mountain wave, needs a keen eye and a vigorous arm, as a 
slight movement of sail or helm may produce instantaneous 
shipwrecb. Besides, revivals usually include but a small 
part of the entire community, and however well conducted, 
are destined to meet a re-action when they have passed away. 
The world will attempt to re-gain its lost dominion, and with 
a disposition to take ample vengeance for past annoyance 
and self denial ; with little injurious effect however, if the re- 
vival has not materially overstepped the bounds of real pro- 
priety, but with tremendous re-action if it has. 

In the indiscretion of Davenport may be traced not only 
the suspension of the revival in this city 80 years ago, when 
he came here and began to denounce the ministers as uncon- 
verted men; but those indelible prejudices against revivals 
which made old Calvinists formal, Semi-calvinists Arminians, 
Arminians Unitarians, and Unitarians Uni versa lists. The 
great Eastern defection was produced by the indiacretioDB of 
friends of the revivals, as much as by any one cause. 

There are in this city and region now, orthodox churches* 
in which there has not for SO years been a common eventnj ' 
lecture, and cannot be, owing solely to the extravagance 
revivals which took place almost a century ago. 

The following are the subjects, upon which I would nig-< 
gest a few thoughts : 

I. The hasty recognition of persons as converted 
their own judgment, without interrogation or evidence. Re- 
vivals may become so great and rapid, as to make it proper 



I 



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of 

1 



84 

ihai thofle experiencing a change, in the course of a dan 
should meet in one place not lo be recognised as 
but lo be examined, cautioned and instructed ; for the oii 
powerful and rapid is the work of grace in a communil 
the more certain is the existence of sympathy and all tl 
causes of self-deception ; and the more imperious the 
cessity of caution, unless we would replenish the church i 
hypocrites, to keep her agitated by discipline or covered wi) 
shamo by the neglect of it. 

II, Severe and repelling mode of preaching and convi 
ing with stupid and awakened sinners, giving a predoi 
nance to the awful and terrific traits of the divine characi 
and administration. It is a partial exhibition of the divii 
character and of the Gospel, and though it may bo connet 
ed with success, it is because God in his mercy works br 
means of great relative imperfection, and not because it — 
the " more excellent way." It has a tendency lo produce 
defective and unlovely state of Christian feeling, a state of 
predominant severity instead of compassion and kindness. 
The human mind is more affected by kindness than by seve- 
rity ; and though I have preached much the terrors of the 
Lord, it has been always with little effect, only as the justice 
of God, and his mercy, and the sinner's obduracy and ingra- 
titude, have been exhibited in close alliance. I have not 
found naked terror to do much execution, either as the means 
of awakening men, or producing submission. It is the Law 
in the hands of a Mediator. It is the uplifted sword of jus- 
tice, while JesuB invites and entreats and draws with the 
bands of love, which alarms, convinces of sin, and subdues 
the heart. 

in. Assuming without sufficient evidence, that persons are 
unconverted. We may not possess any evidence that a per- 
son is pious, and it may be highly probable that he is not; 
but probabilities do not render it expedient to assume tbe 
fact as certain. Because we enter on ground which we caii« 
not maintain, and assume the appearance of ceosoriousnea^ll 
calculated needlessly lo awaken prejudice, and augment Ha^ 
phalanj of opposition. It is also wholly a superfluous ewL 
For why should we incur the responsibility of pronouncing 
a man unconverted, when a few questions, respectfully propos- 
ed, would obtain the data requisite for a close application, 
with deeper conviction, and less repellency. 

IV. The application of harsh and provoking epithet^] 
which, though they may be true in some theological seni 
are, as they would naturally be understood, a violation ™ 
civiiired decorum and of Christian courtesy. The applica- 
tion lo men, of all the epithets which their character in the 



atm 



83 

sight of God might justify, would constitute a hell upon earth. 
It would be the action and re-action of provocation and in- 
sult ; it would prostrate all the valuable distinctions of society, 
and violate all the requisitions of the Gospel, of rendering 
honour to whom honour is due, and of being kindly affection- 
ate, and gentle, and courteous. It would render the mem- 
bers of the same family, and the members of the same cont- _ 
munity, hateful and hating one another. Should pious ps* I 
rents address their unconverted offspring as serpents and a ' 
generation of vipers, or pious children assail the ears of their 
unconverted parents with the epithets of atheists, rebels, 
enemies of God, children of the devil ; any, but the sons of 
peace, might be expected to dwell in the family ; and should 
such provoking epithets be hurled at each other by members 
of the same community, it might qualify them sooner for 
Bilhngsgatethan for the church of God. Should an unsettled 
minister of t!ie Gospel, powerful in talents and zenl, and aid- 
ed by success, carry himself sword in band through the com- 
munity in this overbearing style, we are not to suppose that 
settled ministers can with impunity do the same, or that any 
man, can do it permanently with impunity. For, embolden- 
ed by success, either he will be lifted up of pride and fall 
into the snare of the devil, or venturing on from one impro- 
priety to another, the sensibilities of the community, goaded 
to desperation, will make a stand, and rc-uct, and sweep him 
away. 

V. Another evil to be deprecated by such unusual treat- 
ment of mankind, is its tendency to produce imitators, who 
without the moral power, will offer the same provocation, 
and be treated by an indignant community as the seven sons 
of Sccva were treated by the unclean spirits. — " Jesus we 
know, and Paul we know, but who are ye ?" 

There is nothing in the example of our Saviour, or of the 
apostles, to authorize an address so calculated to exasperate. 
Did our Lord call the young ruler an atheist or a devil ? It 
was only when a course of open opposition to truth and evi- 
dence had indicated desperate wickedness, and produced re- 
probation, that our Lord assumed the language of severe 
rebuke, and terrific denunciation i and even in this, he acted 
as the Omniscient Judge, and not as a mere man. Generally 
his intercourse with sinful men is marked with compassion- 
ate dignity ; and even were his address direct and severe, it 
would not follow, that we might safely imitate. It was pre- 
dicted of him, that he should not lift up his voice nor cry ; a 
bruised reed shall he not break, nor quench the smoking 
flax, until he shall bring forth judgment unto victory, i. e. he 
should deal so kindly and tenderly with awakened sinners, as 



noold neither discourage nor enrage them, but carry on tht 
r work to salvation. The example of Paul is fraught with in* 
[ fltruclion on this subject. For though the man never lived 
I who possessed more moral courage, or struck home with 
[ more directness and power upon the conscience, }'ct no one 
I ever manifested more dexterity or care to avoid the repet- 
lences of prejudice, or rousing up aginst himself the irrita- 
tion of unsanctified feeling; and whenever it became indis> 
pensable toadminisler reproof, he forbears to smite, until by 

I every possible preparation of kindness, he had insured ite 
lalutary influence and prevented injurious re-action. If he 
nust smite, it is not until he had bound the culprit with cords 
of love, and even then the chastisement is applied with so 
much regret as is calculated rather to break the heart of the 
■ufierer than In enrage it : and in this he consulted the dic- 
tates of a sound philosophy, as much as he did the dictates 
of his benevolent heart. It is certainly a new discovery, that 
prejudice and hatred and anger have become the salutai]' 
causes in pre-disposing the mind of a sinner for the recep- 
tion of the truth; and if notwithstanding hard names and 
provoking buffettings, he is awakened and converted, ho* 
much more certainly might the same event have been looked 
for, had these repellences been atlowed lo sleep, while thfl 
same amount of merciful directness and earnestness had been 
Applied to his conscience and his heart. 

Nor are wc to suppose that the sovereignty of God may be 
relied on alike in the neglect, as in the use of the most suit- 
able means of interesting and aflecling the human mind; 
for sovereignty consists in rescuing men without reference to 
legal or moral desert ; but not in doing it without means, or 
in a way that supersedes the necessity of discretion, and doea 
violence to all the laws of the human mind. He can save 
and does save by means of great relative imperfection : but 
it is by that which is good in them, and not by that which is 
defective, and ad'ords no evidence that still greater good 
might not have been expected, had means been more wisely 
adapted and better applied. 

The laws of the human mind are not lo be outraged in 
preaching the Gospel, or the depravity of the heart needlessly 
loused and brought out Into virulent action against man and 
Bod; and though those who themselves were exercised in 
^'■this dreadful manner, are apt to imagine that all must feel 
just as they felt, and to preach with reference to the produc- 
tion of such horrid feelings, it is both needless and injurious 
to do it. There is impediment enough in man while the 
^Lv&gc of his enmity sleeps, to forbid the exciting of its extreme 
^priolence, and enough to inspire compassion for the sinner, 



1 

(ores 
PQUS 
Bod 
Ifais 



I 




L without involving him in new disabilities by arraying against 
him the exasperated power of his depravity; and if some are 
saved notwithstanding, there is no reason to doubt that many 
are destroyed by such treatment, who might otherwise have 
been saved. 

The following may serve as specimens of the Apostle's 
mode of preaching the Gospel and dealing with men. At 
Ephesus he served the Lord for three years with all humility 
of mind, and ceased not to warn every one night and day, 
with tears. At Athens, he reasoned with the philosophers on 
Mars' Hill, in a way that was neither harsh nor abrupt, but 
courteous and yet direct and powerful. To the Corinthian 
church, which had sinned greatly, he says, " i write not these 
things to shame you, but as my beloved sons I warn you. 
Wherefore, I beseech you, be ye followers of me." And in 
his second epistle, "Out of much affliction and anguish of 
heart I wrote unto you, with many tears not that ye should 
be grieved, but thai ye might know the love which I have 
more abundantly unto you, and though I made you sorry with 
a letter, I do not repent, though I did repent." 

His care to allay and to avoid exciting prejudice, and to 
conciliate favour by a watchful accommodation of truth to 
the character, capacity, and condition of his hearers, is 
beautifully described in 1 Cor. iv. 9 — 21. Because the Gos- 
pel was true and all were sinners, he did not treat them all 
alike ; " Though I be free from all men, yet have I made my- 
self the servant of all, that I might gain the more." The 
same treatment would not answer for all : " To the Jews I 
became as a Jew, to them without law as without law, to the 
weak became I as weak, that I might gain the weak. I am 
made all things to all men, that I might by all means save 
some ; and this I do for the Gospel's sake." To the Gala- 
tiana, endangered by false teachers, he says, " My little chil- 
dren of whom Travail in birth again, until Christ be formed 
in you." The directions to Timothy, who was a young man, 
are, " Rebuke not an elder, but entreat him as a father, and 
the younger men as brethren, the elder women as mothers, 
the younger as sisters with all purity," He had no notion 
that a young man, even as eminent as Timothy, should under- 
take to break down ministers. " And the servant of the Lord 
must not strive, but be gentle unto all, apt to teach, patient, 
in meekness instructing them that oppose themselves, ^C." 
The epistle of Paul to Philemon displays a consummate know- 
ledge of the human heart, and is an unrivalled specimen of 
the most dexterous, dehcate, and touching apphcation of 
moral power ; and illustrates perfectly the precept, " be ye as 
wise as serpents and harmless bb doTes." When the Aptw- , 




t 



tie used pointed and severe expressions, it was only iadespe' 
rate cases. As inspired men, they were autliorised by GotL 
to inflict disease and deatii, and to utter the most awful ia| 
precalions of divine vengeance, but they recognise them 
selves always as the mere agents of the Holy Ghost, and not 
as speaking themsolves, or expressing their own feelingt 
Thus Ananias was struck dead lor having lied unto the Ui>^3 
Ghost. The Apostles being the medium through whomto^ 
Holy Ghost spake, and Paul ^' being filled with the Hoh 
Ghost," denounced Elymas tiie sorcerer, and inflicted blind- 
ness upon iiim. When other men are filled in like manner 
with the Holy Ghost, and can work miracles in attestation 
of it, they may address, when God directs, individuals in the 
same manner. The martyr Stephen in the early part of his 
address was kind and conciliating. It was not until Ih^r 
incorrigibienesa was manifest, and " he filled with the Hi^y 
Ghost," that he uttered the fearful denunciations with whidi 
his speech closes. The same may be said of £the bold 
address of Peter and John to the Jewish Sanhedrim, Actaiv. 
10, II, "Being filled with the Holy Ghost, Peter said," 4:c. 
i. e. spoke as directed by heaven. Paul also in his impreca* 
tion of destruction upon Alexander the coppersmith, is to be 
understood as denouncing the just judgment of God upon 
him, under the special guidance of the Spirit, and not as e 
pressing his own vindictive feelings; and the same may b 
said of the imprecations recorded in the Psalms, and in th 
Prophets. In common cases, these men were kind and gen^l 
tie, and more given to expostulation and tears, than to d»«V 
nunciation ; and when they apeak in this manner, are on^,l 
the organs employed by heaven to denounce judgments upoofl 
the reprobate. God surely has a right to denounce jud^l 
ments upon the wicked, and to select his own instruments, airV 
he had to exterminate the Canaanitcs: and sometimes ihej 
holy men who pronounce these imprecations expressly say f 
that they are authorised by God to do his " strange work," J 
and yet they do it in " bitterness of spirit," and only because | 
" the hand of the Lord was strong upon them." They I 
therefore executed only a specific commission, in given cii^ I 
cumstances ', and their conduct furnishes no authority to ud- I 
inspired ministers to apply to their unconverted hearers gene- " 
rally, the same fearful language which was by heaven direct- 
ed to be pronounced upon reprobates. 

Long have infidels and scotl'ers triumphed in these impre- 
cations, as the supposed ebullition of unhallowed feehog in 
good men : and if they were recorded as an example to be 
adopted by ministers in addressing unrenewed men generally, 
they do breathe any thing rather than peace on earlb aiul 



good will to men, and would give to the infidel the entire 
and unanswerable force of his objection. 

The general principle then is this : — men who hate and r&t 
ject the truth, anil conduct as those did whom God denounced, 
nave reason to fear thai the judgments of reprobation will 
come upon them, and the ministers of Christ may warn and 
entreat men to take heed. But until certified by a revela- 
tion, that an individual or a class of men are reprobates, he 
has no authority to apply to them, merely as ordinary sin- 
ners, the language of denunciation which is peculiar to re- 
probates; and whoever observes will perceive, that so far 
from doing this, where there is a serious mind, and an anx- 
ious desire, and earnest seeking, they are addressed in the 
language of compassion, exhortation, warning, and entreaty* 
If 1 might refer to a living instrument of good to men in the 
conversion of souls, of. all modern men most successful, and 
who if the humility of any man was eijual to the temptation 
of being called a reformer, might be called such, having done ' 
more to reduce to a science the mode of applying truth to 
the human mind, and conducting revivals, than all who pre- 
ceded him, I should refer to one, who of all men watched 
with most critical carefulness to avoid needless provocation, 
and availed himself most carefully of every circumstance 
which might remove hindrances, and give to truth the most 
unobstructed efhcacy, and who, at the same tiaie, approach- 
ed the conscience with great directness and power. 

V. Female prayer in promiscuous assemblies. — First, it is 
no where commanded. Secondly, it is no where authorized, 
either by precept or example. There is no instance in the 
patriarchal age, of a woman offering sacrifice as an act of 
worship, and a symbol of prayer ; and none in the tabernacle 
or temple service. On the contrary, when on account of 
great judgments, it was enjoined on females to P'^yi it w^i 
the wife apart, and the husband apart. Thirdly, femaleprajN 



• Tho pobilion that all men, becaJse sinners, are therefore lo be treated 
alike by llie minislera of the ^nsptt. without respect lo age, office, or sta- 
tion in society, U aa much a vioia:ion of common sense, n>i it is of Ihe plain 
directions pf the nposlle, which enact reverence for age, and honour to 
whom honour is due ; rapeciall/ for lho«e who rule over men : and if in 
monarchical governmonti Iha recognilioD of soch dislioclinos was a Chrii- 
tian duty, where the urm of javer could punish delinquents, how much 
more in republican gcvernmBnts, where public opinion is the ooty law, 
and a levollinf of all distinclioni of society would be the sure presagre of 
anarchy and iihsoluie dcilruction. Such as in France existed for " " " " 
when the sdd, moon, and stars were cast to )be ground, and Gab- 
aod courtezans formed the mob, and directed the overwhelming^ tempest 
wnth. 

18 



I 




^V tie used poiated and severe ejipressions, it was on' 
m rate cases. As inspired men, they were authv 
to inflict disease and death, and to utter the r 
precations of divine vengeance, but ihoy 
selves always as the mere agents of llio Hr 
as speaking themselves, or expressing 
Thus Ananias was struck dead for havir 
Ghost, The Apostles being the medi 
Holy Ghost spake, and Paul "bei" 
Ghost," denounced Elymas the sor 
ness upon him. When other me 
with the Holy Ghost, and can v ' 
of it, they may address, when C ' 
same manner. The martyr F 
address was kind and cone 



m puM 

>on, ibl 

dcy andn 

[lively prcA' 

; Jt your * 

. mitted unlo the 

f a, let them ask (t 

a Woman to speak H 
Is have been eipiBioM 
hicli teach the divinifl 



.he reality of the alonemai 
titioii. Any thing can be B 
(ktermined to obey their o< 
th respect lo I Cor. xi. 3—1^ 
iiply thut women did pray i 



^o^rigiblenese was maniff 
Ghost," that he uttered lb 
his speech closes. Th - 
address of Peter and Jc '^ 
10,11, "Being filled--' '" ■ 
i. e. spoke as di^ecte('.'ans^v^ 

lion of destruction r^fl "^"^ f»^y "'d, as it is in the fore cited 
understood as den . ''^ forbidden ; and the plain is lo control 
him, under ihe sp- r">' '''? obscure the plain, 
pressing his ow ■ r ]•'■'>' • '' "'"^t be supposed therefore 
said of the im' 'v""^'^' guidance of llio Spirit ; a pret. 
Prophets. I' ,-;!'«"'' "mounted lo inspiration; for Done 
tie, and mo . ,<.i*"''''" '"-""i make exceptions lo his own law 
nunciatiop /V-j|,J''r'"'''''i^*!xamj)le, if allowed, no more proves 



mtrol 



the orgar V'jl"'"'"^*''^''''' ^V ^"'^'' influence, should speati, tlion 
the repr y'^"^?"'" ' 

Cr^^^\f i .-V- '—J - 

he har j*''\ci"P^^. .' ''"^ general prohibition, by divine and 



the renr ''c^f/l'^'''^"' proves that all unrenewed 



direclion. 




en should 
If women did pray, it was 



holy: /A"""!" 

that > V'''''*' '"'^"^'^""•'S "'ere even less conclusive, il would 

' 7 '^,„ f'^i"''^'' "'s lawfulness of female prayers doubtful, 

"' ^!se to exclude them under the rule, thai if we arc 

-ftether a ihing is lawiil, it is sinful in that statej" 

I to do It. As he tha- doubted the lawfulnesai 

i,waH condemned if in that state of mind be 

Lt. But if no command had been given on 

r am of opinion that na^l^e itself, as ibe apt 

lecisive on the subject. There w generally, . 

always, in the female character, a softness and __. 

(I ling which shrinks from the notoriety of a public 

'•'ftii"^"" . .'' '^ f''t S"^'"'' of female virtue, and invalua- 

v.tiiing, civilizing influence on man; andagrewi- 



Dtiur, 
e arc 

] 



91 

cr evil, next to the loas of conscience and chastity, could not 
befall the female sex, or the community at large, than to dis- 
robe the female mind of those ornaments of sensibility, and 
clothe it with the rough texture of masculine fibre. But no 
well educated female can put herself up, or be put up, to the 
point of public prayer, without the loss of some portion at 
least of that femule delicacy, which is above all price; and 
whoever has had an opporluntly to observe the effect of female 
exhortation and prayer in public, will be compelled to remark 
the exchange of softness and delicacy for matscuhne courage, 
so desirable in man, so unlovely in woman; and if we need 
farther testimony, the general character of actresses is a 
standing memorial of the influence of female elocution be- 
fore public assemblies. 

VH. Bold, or imprudent expressions in the ardour of 
preaching, or under the provocation of opposition, or in the 
delirious exultation of spiritual pride. — The pre-eminent im- 
portance of religion and the soul, may tempi a man to potir 
contempt on all carefulness about style and well selected epi- 
thets ; but if negligence in this respect may destroy soula as 
well as save them, then the more important the soul, the 
more important it is that in none of these respects we offend 
and destroy those for whom Christ died. 

VIII. Language of unbecoming familiarity with Ood 
in prayer. — Such a thing is possible in good men, but 
it is piety degenerated and mingled commonly with carnal 
affection or spiritual pridf?. A just sense of ourselves and of 
God, will produce any thing rather than irreverent familiari- 
ty. If in heaven pure spirits veil ihefr faces and adore, shall 
not mortal man, whose eye by faith seeth God, abhor himself? 
The difference between humble and presumptuous boldness 
is immense; and no frequency of real spiritual access and 
communion with God, can po^ssibly breed irreverent familia- 
rity. For a man, then, to talk to his Maker about men and 
things in the dialect more familiar and divested of reverence, 
than a well-educated child would adopt in iiddressing an 
earthly parent, is utterly inadmissible. 

IX. Coarse, blunt, and vulgar expressions.— These, if in- 
dulged by good men, indicate, or infallibly produce, the want 
of that delicacy of feeling, whiclj, neit to conscience and pi- 
ety, is our greatest safeguard against impropriety ; and when 
coupled with religion, adorns the doctrines of God our Sa- 
viour i and though some ears may not be offended, there fire 
always, in every assembly, some that will be ; and though 
some souls may not be injured by it, whyaliould it be indul- 
ged, when these might be as much henc^Vei, ^i'^ Q*Ofta\\OTi.- 

guage, while many may be offended aud ^x\\^v* ft^^*^'^'^^^ 



by itt Say not it is their own fault: for though it may I 
that they ought not to have been so offended as to have r 
jectedthe truth, yet if wc, knowing the hability of men to fc 
thus offended and injured, proceed wilfully to create the t; 
fence, the wo may belong to them by whom the offence r 
meth, as really as to those who are criminally offended, 
own observation has taught me, that there is a critical sta 
of the mind in the experience of almost every sinner, whi 
small causes may turn the scale the wrong way ; and if a n 
nister, careless of his language or conduct in dealing will 
men, shall save many, the day of judgment may disclose th 
appeilling fact, that he was the means of destroying rooi 
soula than he saved. And besides all this, human natoi 
needs elevation and refinement; it is. of itself prone enou|^ 
to sink down to coarseness and indelicacy ; and the evil tnai 
be immense, of sending religion, the great purifier of maO^ 
through the nation in a style which will be calculated to in- ■ 
crease the obtuseness of feeling, and the roughness of civil- 
ized intercourse. Let grossness characterise the church,and 
refinement the world, and you throw a large portion of man- 
kind into hopeless opposition to the gospel. 

X. A harsh and severe mode of addressing sinoera 
Whatever language a man uses, it tends to beget in him t]_ 
style of feeling of which it is characteristic. If an awakeaal 
sinner, to conceal his impression, gha II affect lightness i' 
language and manner, he will soon become what he attec 
to be, a careless sinner. On this principle it is, in my judf 
ment, no minister can adopt a severe, harsh, and censorto 
manner with sinners, artd not become, to some extent in i 
rit, what he seems to be in language. We must, at lim 
use the language of severity and terror ; but if this becom 
the unvarying or common mode, it will be unhappy ; nor c 
the language of denunciation and threatening, such as 'ci 
sed,' ' hell,' 'damn:ition,' and the like, be made frequent a 
familiar in the pulpit, vithout bringing up the association c 
similar language, from profane lips, in far different placatS 
or without proAicing, if not as much, yet some degree of Ifa 
bad influence of profane swearing. In the time of Davei 
port, they used to address men from the pulpit as " 
sinners," and talk about their being " damned to hell j" wbitl 
made some people wonder what had got into ministera \ 
swear so. 

XI. New era in revivals — reformers — reformation alwq 
opposed, even by good men, &c. — Such ideas, cherishM 
bring to the naughty and deceitful heart of man no smsl 
danger, and have ruined ma.nY V ^"^^ though multitudes have 
thought they were raised up to \ie iiAwnvew "vci "ifea •i^^Bck, 



93 

but a small number of men have been in reality such ; and 
as to opposition from good men, the facts generally have been 
the other way. The opponents of Luther and Calvin were 
not pious men, but the legions of Antichrist; and so long as 
enemies only lifted the liince against Ihcm, the reformatioa 
advanced; but from the time the reformers began to lifl U 
one against the other, it stopped. The chief opponents of 
Whitheld in England were the hierarchy ; and in this couD' 
try, the cold-hearted Arminians and formal Calvinisia, But 
the ministers who held the doctrines and maintained tho 
views of revivals, which now pervade New-England and the 
West, were his most ardent friends : And there is no instance 
upon record, of a great evangelical reformation which was 
opposed strenuously by the best of men, and carried sword 
in hand by denouncing and breaking down the most active, 
experienced, and successful ministers of Christ and membera 
of his church. Whitfield and the Tennants strengthened 
the hands of good ministers, and were terrible only to the 
Arminian and lukewarm ; and while their counsels prevailed, 
the revivals went on. It was reserved for Davenport and hia 
followers to stop it, by selling up a new mode of preaching 
and conduct, which good men could not adopt ; for this they 
were denounced, and separations encouraged, whose delete- 
rious etiecta a whole century will not obliterate. 

Xll. A self-sufficient and daring stale of mind, which is 
reckless of consequences, and incorrigible to argument or 
advice. It may be the result of confidence inspired by suc- 
cess ; of the magnifying eflect of intense interest on one sub- 
ject, which throws every thing else out of the circumference 
of vision, and into relative insignificance; of nervous excite- 
ment which quickens all the sensibilities of llie soul, and mag- 
nifies objects of interest; and, at last, of a settled state of 
perverted feeling, the product of the preceding causes, 
which, in the estimation of the subject, becomes absolute 
knowledge, and pours contempt on argument or advice, and 
can no more be stopped in its career, than the foaming cata- 
ract, or the resistless whirlwind. For why should a good 
man stop, who knows certainly that he is right exactly, and 
that all men are wrong in proportion as they difler from him? 
This unquestionably was the state of mind to which Daven- 
port and his followers came. He and they, upon the subject 
of promoting revivals, were undoubtedly the subjects of a reli- 
gious nervous insanity. They mistook the feeling of certain- 
ty and confidence produced by nervous excitement, and per- 
verted sensation, for absolute knowledge, if not for inspira- 
tion ; and drove the whirlwind of their insane piet<{ iKtovi.^ 



1 



94 

the churches with a fury which could not be reaisled, bi 
with a desoialing influence which in many places has rr 
its track visible lu tlic present day. ll was ihis " know- 
tain -fee ling," which eniliolilened Dnvenportto chastise agl 
and eminent ministers, and to pray for them, and denoun* 
them as unconverted, and to attempt lo break Ihem di 
promoling separations from a!) who would itot conform ii 
plicitly to his viewin, — by setting on fire around ihcm (he wi 
nay, and Blubbl«, which exist in most cnmmuniiies, and mi 
easily be set on lire, at any time, by rashnesis and misguidt 
zeal; and so far as my observation esleuds, the man wf 
confides exclusively in himself, and is inaccessible to advii 
and influence from without, has passed the bounds of soui 
reason, and is upon the confines of destruction. 

XIII. Whatever the code of public opinion has adoptt 
which is sinful, must be rejected ; bul there are a mullitu< 
of things which belong to man as an intellectual end 
being, which cannot be disregarded, without destroying alike 
civilization and Christianity. There are some things whicb 
adorn, and some which disgrace religinn, and should wef 
therefore in our zeal strip religion of the mildness, and ki 
ness, and courtesy of civilized decorum, and exhibit her in 
liance with all the repellences and roughnesses of uncultii 
ted humanity, as well m>glit the bodies in the valley of vii 
have been animated and sent fortli in all their unsightly 
kedness before tiie skin came upon ihcm. True religion 
makes men courteous, and produces those salutary rules of 
civilized intercourse which distinguish Christian from savi ^'~' 
nations. Nor with all thc^c restraints, and grace beside,^ 
there any danger llial men, in the intercliange of social inl 
course, will treat each other with more respect and court* 
than would naturally result from each man's loving his 
bour as himself. 

XIV. Success an evidence that all which is done i 
vals is right. No mode of reasoning is so safe as matti 
fact reasoning, if properly conducted ; and none perhaps 
BO liable lo be perverted to purposes of sophistry, Tl: 
grounds of deception are two: 1. Drawing general conell 
sions from particular premises; inferring tliut because 
preacher's mode of address or action has been useful in 
circumstances, it is applicable to alt circumstances, Aa ifi 
physician, on discovering a remedy for some disease, should 
malie it his standing and universal prescription in all cases; 
as if the shipmaster, who had once been driven out to sea 
before boisterous winds, without anchor, or compass, 
chart, or rudder, and who reached b^ miracle his port in safe'* 
ly, should return to denounce Wncefoxft\ft\ft^<iv 



96 

ty, and insiat that nothing was needed to conduct ciuspiciouff- 
]y the commerce of the whole world but a direct course, and 
mountain waves, and all sails slaiidlng, and a. hurricane for 
a breeze. '^. Judging from llinitt^d views and iminciJiatc e& 
fects, without regarding genera) and permaniMit resuUa, The 
world, both material and inlellecliiat, ia governed by general 
laws, and though the violation of them may produce a tem- 
porary good, the certain result, on the great scale, will be 
more than a balance of general evil. Now the importance 
of the soul and of eternity is such, as that good men in a revi- 
val are apt to feel no matter what is said or done, provided 
sinners are awakened and saved. Uui it ought to be remem- 
bered, that though the immediaic result of some courses of 
conduct may be the salvatiun of Home souls, the general and 
more abiding result may be the ruin uf a thousand souls, de- 
stroyed by this conduct, to one saved by it ; and destroyed by 
it as instrumenlally in the direct and proper sense of the 
term, as any are saved by it. The sovereignty of God is not 
to be relied on in violation of the great laws of the moral 
world, but in accordance with them. When the thousands 
were to be sealed, the four angels were commanded to hold 
the winds, and keep back the judgments which they should 
afterwards execute, because war and distress would impede 
his work of mercy. Hence our Saviour introduced the gos- 
pel dispensation gradually, as the mind of man could biear 
it ; not putling new wine into old bottles: and hence, too, 
Davenport, disregarding the general consequcr>ces of his con- 
duct, and intent only on its immediate result, though he saved 
a few, doubtlet'S entailed moral desolation, and darkness, 
and death, upon tliousunds of unborn generations. In a sin- 
gle hour, in this city, he said and did what had the etTect to 
interrupt in the midst an auspicious revival, and commenc- 
ed a captivity which has continued for more than seventy 
years. Insomuch, that were not the compassion of God, 
through Christ, infinite, and repentance available, good had 
it been for that man, and fur New-England, if he had never 
been born. Uciside, the limited success of a given course, 
whose general result is injurious, is no evide.ice of divine ap- 
probation ; for God, as a sovereign, works by means of great 
relative imperfection ; and that there may not be evil only, 
makes the truth effectual which is preached, even though the 
manner may be in some respects so reprehensible, as to de- 
serve the dereliction of the Holy Ghost. Success in this 
case only proves that men are not so outrageously impru- 
dent, as to make it seem necessary to heaven, to withhold 
the influence of the Spirit from the truth. No evidetV'CA 
then is furnished by success, lo show \W\. 'CnvQ^^ -«\«k^^ 



1 



men regard as exceptionable, produce this success; or thai 
characteristic excellencies, without these peculiarities, would 
not render ihe same men still more eminently successful; 
If revivals could be achieved in but one w^y, and that attenw 
ed by much reaction of evil, such is the vanity of time bu 
the worth of the soul, that the sacrifice should be made ; 
when revivals, great, and frequent, and glorious, can be coii 
ducted in a manner which strengthens the hands of paston 
and unites the churches, and disarms the world of prejudice 
and brings increasing power of truth on the public coni 
science, and raises up the foundations of many generation! 
and repairs the wastes of the revivals of olher ages, there cai 
be no excuse for conducting ihcm in a manner which eHbI 
reverse this order, and let out a civil war in the churcll 
arousing ministers against ministers, and dividing and div 
trading the churches by wrath, and strife, and endless din 
sions. The revivals in the West do not., in my judgmentJ 
owe their existence to a single arm, and it is too much to b<rj 
taken for granted, that both iheir immediate and ultimate rfi" 
suits would not have been much better, if they had been at* 
tended by fewer novelties and peculiarities. For thotigT 
such revivals bs 1 have described, promoted by itinerant n 
nisters only, would be dreadful, the same kind of preachii^ 
and conduct adopted by selltod ministers would unquestioi^ 
ably displace three-fourths of the settled ministers in tbq 
United States, and instead of building np the desolations thai 
now exist, would multiply thetii a thousand fold. 

To some of the consequences of a revival, conducted uo* 
dcr such auspices as 1 have described, I beg leave now I 
call your attention. 

It will become more and more exceptionable. Urged bj^ 
circumstances, men will do things, which, if in the beginning 
they had been predicted, they would have said, " Are thyj 
servants dogs, that we should do these things V By degree^fl 
however, all landmarks will be removed, and what was oncfll 
regarded as important will be set at nought, and what woiiM|f 
once have produced horror will be done fearlessly. There 
is nothing to which the minds of good men, when once pas8-1 
ed the bounds of sound discretion, and launched on tin 
ocean of feeling and experiment, may not come too. 
the evil, which may flow from those who commence these i 
aberrations, is but a drop of the bucket in the ocean of dis- 
order and misrule to which they may open the door. There 
18 nothing so terrible and unmanageable as the fire and whirl> 
wind of human passion, when once kindled by misguided 
zeal, and sanctiontd hy consc\.fti\ce,^u>^\.W\dc,B.of bemgre- 
viled and Dpjjgguted ioi domg Goi ftwvwie. VSmi ■&& <:K»fe 



97 

of j£olus, or the gate of Pandemonium, a single arm may 
sufiicB to let out the storm. But when once the atmosphere 
is put in motion, no human power can stop it, until it has ex- 
hausted its fury in works of moral desolation. They who 
did the deed may repent of it early, and stretch out impotent 
hands to stay the evil ; and weep over the desolation with- 
out being alilc to repair it. The restoration of Davenport 
to sanity, and his subHcquent confession, did not repair 
the moral desolation which his conduct and principlea had 
made. 

Another of the evils to be apprehended, is opposition on 
the part of good men, and the consequent disunion of 
the churches by a civil war. The peculiarities of the system 
I have recognised, cannot go through the churches without 
opposition. Splendid by its early power, many have yielded 
to it who disapproved for fear they might quench the Spirit! 
and many have been silent, because they feared that thev 
might speak against a work of God. But when the worK 
shall have given out its distinct character, and put olf the na- 
tures of love and gentleness, &c. and put un those of wrath 
ajid strife : when other reformers shall hasten on to new dis- 
coveries, and surpass their predecessors as much a» these 
sutpassed others : and denounce them as they denounced 
those who cuuld not go with them ; when stripling imitators 
of pious men, having nothing in rnmnion with them but'their 
imprudence, without their age and moral power, shall go out 
to outrage humanity and caricature revivals pf religion, 
then will these irregularities be met, and then the colhsion 
Will be keen and dreadful. For, in every church, there ii 
wood, hay, and stubble, which will be sure to take fire on the 
wrong side. All your periodical Christians, who sleep from 
one revival to another, will be sure to blaze out now ; while 
judicious ministers and the more judicious part of the church, 
will be destined to stand, like the bush, in the midst of the 
flames ; while these periodical Christians will make up, by 
present zeal for their past stupidity, and chide as cold heart- 
ed formalists, those, whose even, luminous course sheds re- 
proof on their past coldness and sfiipidity. The converts 
too will catch the same spirit ; and go forth to catechise aged 
Christians; and wonder why old saints don't sing, and make 
the heavenly arches ring, as they do ; — and that shall come 
to pass, which was spoken by Isuiah the prophet, as the des- 
truction of human society and the consummution of divine 
wrath upon man, when children shall be princes in the 
church, and babes shall rule over her, and the child shall 
behave hinself proudly against the ancient, and the hasa 
against the honourable. 

13 ^ 



98 

Another evil to be feared is, that tt will unavoidably arraj 
a large portion of the unrenewed part of the community 
against revivals and religion ; and produce inhdels, scoffers. 
Unitarians, and Univcrsulista, on every side — increaHiag the 
rcsiBiance seven fold to evangelical doctrine; withdranins 
in proportion, the voluntary support of the Gospel; and 
consigning the precious cause of Christ, which ought and 
might govern public opinion, to the hands of a feeble, despis- 
ed, dispirited few, who watch the holy fire upon the deserted 
altar of God. All forms of error will grow rank from the 
aliment of such violence done to the laws of humanity ai 
to the laws of God. The extravagances of the pious in ll 
time of Cromwell threw back the cause of vital piety m 
England for two centuries, to a state of imbecility and scon 
and has furnished topics to grace the pages of infidel hisU 
rians, poets, and orators, through every succeeding genet 
tion. 

Another effect to be deprecated is, that it will prevent tJ 
great evangelical assimilation, which is forming in the UnJ 
ed States, and paralyse general efforts as much bs privaH 
churches. The rumour of extravagance would soon begin " 
press hard upon the friends of revivals in New-Englan 
who could not and would not take the responsibility of jtu 
fVing what they disapproved, and would be compelled in « 
defence, publicly to clear themselves, as having no part e 
lot in such matters. There is also a large portion of t_. 
cliurch out of New-England, which is evangelical, but whitJ 
is acquainted with revivals more by the hearing of the etm 
than by eyesight and experience; and who, between douflj 
and fear, are approaching the happy day, when the bre^ 
of the Lord may breathe upon them. Upon all these, a ref| 
val of extravagance and disorder would exert a deadly infl" 
ence, and for one generation, at least, protract the fon 
without the power of religion. While all the enemies « 
evangelical doctrines and of revivals, would keep a juhilos,''" 
that these days of hated light had gone by, and given place to 
the reign of reason and formality. 

Another thing to be feared is, that meeting in their career 
with the most determined opposition from educated minix 
ters, and Colleges, and Seminaries, all these in success! 
would be denounced, and held up as objects of popular a 
um, and a host of ardent, inexperienced, impudent youi 
men be poured out, as from the hives of the North, to oblil^l 
erate civilization, and roll back the wheels of lime to sem^l 
barbarism ; until New-England of the West shall be burntl 
over, and religion disgraced and trodden down as in soins 
partB of New-England \l waa dowa ftft >iew» ^^-i-. -mW&U^ 




men atid women, indiatis and negroes, male and female, 
preached and prayed and exhorted, unlil confusion itself be- 
came confounded, — There is nothing so powerful as the 
many waters of human passion, and nothing so terrible as 
the overflowing of such a scourge: and a dispensation so 
'Calamitous would be more intolerable, as it is so utterly 
|i needless, and would come so unexpectedly in the very dawn- 
ing of a bright duy. The nature of the Gospel, and of the 
human mind, and the mode of exhibiting truth and conduct- 
ing revivals, huve been developed, and practised with such 
success, that in New-England, and to a great extent through 
the nation, the conviction is estabbshed, that they arc the 
work of God, and most benign in their moral influence upon 
the present us well as the future life. Extensively opposition 
is silenced, and the public mind is fust preparing to come 
under the influence of faithful preaching, and the Holy 
Ghost. In New-England revivals are becoming more fre- 
quent in the same places, and more general in their extent. 
There seems to be a joyful and rapid spread of the work of 
God; but one overflowing of a violent, ungoverned revival 
would snatch the victory from truth, and throw revivals back 
at least fifty years. It would be the greatest calamity that 
could befall this young empire. The perversion of the popu- 
lar taste, and the extinction of the popular prejudice against 
learning, and a learned ministry, where an enlightened pub- 
lic sentiment, coupled with enlightened piety, is our all, 
would be to us, nearly, what the incursions of the northern 
barbarians were to the Roman Empire. It would stop all 
our improvements, and ihrow us back in civilization, ircience, 
and religion, at least a whole century. It would constitute 
an era of calamity never to be forgotten, and be referred to 
by future historians as the dark age of our republic. There 
are parts of our nation, to which I might refer you, which 
were burnt over by such a revival some '20 years ago, where 
the abiding evils may still be seen in the state of society 
which has followed. And there too, with all their extrava- 
gances of falling, and groaning, and laughing, and jumping, 
and dancing, were regarded by many, and by some very good 
men, as a new dispensation of the Spirit, — a new mode of 
conducting revivals with power ; and those, who rode on ihe 
foremost waves, thought themselves to be, and were thought 
to be, raised up to be reformers In iheirdtiy, oh, my brollierl 
if a victorious army should overflow and lay us waste, or if 
a fire should pass over and lay every dwelling in our land in 
ashes, it would be a blessing to be coveted with thanksgiving, 
in comparison to the moral desolation of one u.atL'^ienvu^ 



too 

revival of religion ; for physical evils can be speedily repair- 
ed, but the deaolation of moral causes is deep and abiding. 

I have only to add, that the evil may, with perfect ease, I 
avoided, without diminishing the true spirit and power of an 
vival; but in every respect shall increase it. There" i« f 
need of praying as if God and man were deaf, or of walloi 
ing on the floor, and frothing at the mouih, as if filled wil 
hydrophobia, instead of the Spirit of God ; nor any harm i 
kindness and gentleness ; nor any benefit in harsh and sever*' 
epithets. The state of man may be cxphiined to him so that* 
he shall believe and feel, better than by calling him a devil, ~ 
viper, or a serpent. There may be as great directness as 
needed, or as is possible, without indecorum ; and the gos| 
may be preached faithfully, and attended with the power 
God, without groaning in prayer, and crying " Amen," ai 
without female prayers and exhortations, and without thi 
spiritual pride, which never fails to attend pressing the mi 
of the community out of their place, and shaking together 
one chaldron of effervescence, all the passions ofall thecian^ 
es in human society. 1 would not, brethren, on any accounC 
deter you from the propagation of revivals ; and 1 believe tl 
brother F. will take counsel, he may be an invaluable bless- 
ing. The thing whicii I have wished to accomplish is, to en- 
able you so to perceive the defects and dangers of your mode 
of conducting revivals,, as that you shall be induced to part 
with its unseemly warts and excrescences, without diminish- 
ing at all the energy and warmth of the healthful pulsation of 
their hearts, or abating the moral courage or humble bold- 
ness wiUi which you pray and preach, or the directness and 
power with which you address the congciences of men. In 
abort, that revivals, conducted under your auspices, may bs 
so conducted, as that, surpassing in power any you have se 
all good men may hail tlieir approach, and give you their 
divided countenance, and none but wicked men and hypo^ 
crites fear and tremble. 

Dear brethren in Christ ; you must not, for a moment, sup- 
pose that I do not fervently love you : or that I ascribe to 
you, in extenso, all the defects to which I have alluded ; but 
thatl have drawn the outlines of a moral chart, which such 
a disastrous revival, as your present course could not fail to 
lead to, would amply fill up, I have not a doubt. Thai yon 
will appreciate my motives, and not be offended, I cannot Ml* 
believe ; and I have equal confidence that you will appro " 
ate the considerations which I have suggested, and vnll, 
fast and as far as possible, supersede our fears, by a C( 
that all good men will approve and rejoice in. 

The happiness and slrenglVv o^ ^ev.-^.w^VwMl (consist! 



1 




101 

the facl, that, with few exceptions, none of Ui ride hobby- 
horses, or set up for reformers upon our own simple stock of 
wisdom or moral power, but with great harmony and love, 
consult, and give and lake advice. Tliis makes the church 
terrible as an army wilh banners lo her fues. 

I cannot ask you to reply panicularly to so long a letter, 
but it is my earnest request thai you will reply to it early, and 
]et me know how it strikes you; whether it is plain, and di- 
rect, and strong enough, — ao as to be up lo the mark ■ and 
if in any respect you would like discussion, that you will give 
me opportunity of retracting, if I am wrong; or of convinc- 
iEg you, if I am right. 

I beseech you, brethren, to consult good men around you, 
and especially brother Neltleton, whose Judgment and long 
experience in revivals, and knowledge of human nature, can- 
not be safely disregarded. 

But, if at length you should be verging to the conclusion 
that you must go on as you have done, 1 must beseech and 
entreat, you will hall and pray, until there can be time for a 
meeting of a few Christian brethren with you, in which, viva 
voce, we may kindly, but thoroughly and prayerfully, talk 
over the entire subject \ and sec if we cannot bring matters 
to a state in which we can all act as one. 

I am, affectionately, your brother, 

LYMAN BEECHER. 

Ret: Nathan S. S. Beman. 



I 



r 



Bo/^ron, Nov. 8, 1827. 
It having been represented to some of tlic subscribers, ihi 
we disapproved of tijo proceeding's of ihc Rev, Mr. Neill 
ton, in reviewing a sermon preached at Troy, March 4, 18'i7| 
and in opposing the sentimenis and prnclices which it seem^ 
ed intended to vindicate and extend, we regard ourselves as 
called upon by a sense of duly to say, that ihe proceedings 
of Mr. Nettlelon appear to us to have been characterised by 
uncommon inlelloclual vigour, correct and comprehensive 
TJews of the interests of ihe church, and by distinguished 
wisdom, fidelity, firmness, and benevolence, well adapted to 
promote the interests of pure religion throughout the lard. 
Signed, 



Lyman Beecher, 
A. S. Norton, 
Wm. R. Weeks, 
H, H. Weed, 



Jusiin Edwards, 
Heman Humphrey, 
C. J. Tenney, 
J. Hawes. 



CatskiU, July 12, 1837. 

Some of the reasons which the Rev. Mr. Nelileton assign- 
ed to his brethren in New-England, for not attending the 
convention. He was afterwards prevailed on lo attend, from 
the consideration that great iidvanta^re would undoubtedly, 
be taken of his absence, and for the sake of reading his coi^ 
reapondence, to show them what had been done ; — 

1. Feeble heallh, &c. 

3. I have been compelled by ministers to talk and exhaust 
all my strength, and to spend nearly all my lime, for about 
eight months, on this subject. I have done all that I can ; 
and have been greatly blamed by many for what I have done. 
I have resigned the subject entirely to the management of 
settled pastors, whose business alone it is to determine the 
question, what measures shall be introduced into theit 
churches. 

3, Every thing I have said or done has been so pervert* 
and my motives so impeached, that I choose henceforth 
be silent. 

4. I koow not ioho have been invited, or whether they ex- 
pect to attend. 



I 



I 




103 

5. It has been reported at the West, that the convention 
was originated by myself; in Troy, and elsewhere, that t am 
opposed to it ; so that, whatever the result may be, I have 
discovLred a determination to throw the cuiisetjuenccs of the 
meeting on myself. 

6. No ministers will be bound by the decisions of such ■. 
convention. 

7. Those who convoke the convention are making too 
much noise, without uny prospect of lessening the e^ils, and, 
consequenily, will give the subject a new importance. I 
should greatly prefer a silent convention, on some public oc- 
casion like (hat of u commencement, where the views of bre- 
thren who differ tnay be privately discussed ; and in case ihoy 
should come to any important results, they might be publish- 
ed to the world ; otherwise the public mind need not be dis- 
turbed. 

8. The convention may now be considered as having 
ken the same business into their own hands, and as hav 
made pubiie, what I have long been wishing to setde as si- 
lently as possible : hence I ought to be encused. 

9. I have never desired a convention on any other groui 
than to give directions and support to the proceedings of 
presbytery of Troy, or of some regularly organized body, 

10. Every attempt which has hitherto been made to cor- 
rect any irregular practice, has been construed into coldness, 
deadness, and called persecution. 

11. I never yet, to my recollection, have fallen out wilh 
settled pastors, and I fear I cannot act my own judgment and 
conscience without crossing theirs. 

12. I have no controversy with any man on the subject, 
and I fear, if I attend, it will be construed into a personal 
controversy, and that it will be impossible to avoid it. 

13. I fear that settled ministers at the East and South have 
not yet/W( enough of the evils, to appreciate what has al- 
ready been done ; and that these ministers will be obliged to 
experience more of these evils, before they will take a deci- 
sive stand ; and the sooner 1 withdraw, and leave the whole 
responsibility on them, the better. 

14. Every body wishes to take neutral ground as long as 
he possibly can : it was so with myself. 

15. The plea of Mr. Finney, that he wished to sit at my 
feel ooJ learn, I believe was an aAer-device lo justify himself 
in not correcting any thing. No complaint was ever hinted 
at the time. Inileed, after my last interview with Mr. Finney, 
the friends of the new measures continued to report that \. 
and F. are one i and this report continued in circulation until 
my letter to Aikin could be concealed no longer. 



i 



104 

16. The judgment, and counsel, and conaciences of so 
many ministers and Christians have been trampled upon, that 
I fear there hus been great sin. 

17, 1 fear lo have any fellowship with such a spirit. I fear 
a retribution. From my long and intimate acquaintance 
with many ministers who have been denounced, and from mj 
slight acquaintance with their denouncers, 1 greatly prefer 
to rank myself with the former. 

IS, I have reasons in my own mind, which prudence for- 

, bids me to name to the world, and yet am willin>; to giva 

k^em to some of the eastern brethren, should they attend. 

19. Finally. To prevent misunderstanding, I am willing 

that my friends should attend, and do all in their power to 

prevent the evils feared. But I have no evidence that the 

principles on which these men acted are in the least altered. 

On the contrary, I shall be disappointed if they do not at- 

—tempt to vindicate them, and justily all they have done. 



I 




/^ 



LETTER 



TO 



WILLIAM E. CHANNING D. D. 



ON THE SUBJECT OF 



RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 



BY MOSES STUART 

ProftMtor of Sac. Literature in the Theol, Seminary, Andover, 



Soston: 

PEKKLNS & MARVIN, No. 114, WASHINGTON ST. 



1830. 



DISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS to wit. 

DiMtrid CUrh^t Qfice. 

Be it remembered, that on the nineteenth day of July, A. D. 1830, in the fifty 
fiAh Year of the Independence of the United States of America, Perkirs 6l Mar- 
tin , of the said District, have deposited in this Office the Title of a Book, the right 
whereof they claim as Proprietors, in the Words foUowinfif, to tcit : 

A Letter to William E. Channing, D. D. on the subject of Religious Liberty. 
By Moses Stuart, Professor of Sacred Literature in the Theological Semioary, 
Andover. 

In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, entitled " An Act 
for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts and books, 
to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the times therem mentioned -f 
and also to an Act entitled, " An Act supplementarjr to an Act, entitled. An Act for 
the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts apd books to 
the authors and proprietors of such copies during the times therein mentioned ; and 
extending the bencnts thereof to the arts of desigmng, engraving, and etching histori- 
cal and other prints.'' 

JNO.W. DAVIS, f'^^*^^^'' 



LETTER. 



Reverend Sir, 

In perusing the volume which you have recently pub- 
lished, entitled ' Discourses, Reviews, and Miscellanies,' 
and also in reading your ' Election Sermon ' recently de- 
livered before the Legislature of this State, I have met with 
some passages which contain charges, expressed or implied, 
against the denomination of Christians in Massachusetts who 
are called Orthodox or Trinitarians, that seem to me to 
deserve serious and candid examination. If they are indeed 
well founded, it is proper that the community should know 
it ; nor can it be taken amiss, that you have given your 
name to the world as a pledge that they can be established 
and made good. But if they have no foundation in point of 
fact, you will join with me in saying that they ought in 
justice no longer to pass current under the sanction of your 
name, but that the public should be correctly informed 
respecting them. 

Passages in your recently published works, of the nature 
to which I have above adverted, are somewhat numerous. 
But as it is not my object to multiply quotations, or to dis- 
])ute about words, I shall content myself in this place with 
making merely a few extracts. 



My first extract shall be fh)m your Election Sermon 
recently published. 

"You have all heard of the outward evils, which religion, when thus 
turned into tyranny, has inflicted ; how it has dug dreary dungeons, kindled 
fires for the martyr, and invented instruments of exquisite torture. But to 
me all this is less fearful than its influence over the mind. When I see the 
superstitions which it has fastened on the conscience, the spiritual terrors 
with which it has haunted and subdued the ignorant and susceptible, the dark 
appalling views of God which it has spread far and wide, the dread of inquiry 
which it has struck into superior understandings, and the servility of spirit 
which it has made to pass for piety, — when I see all this, the fire, the scaf- 
fold, and the outward inquisition, terrible as they are, seem to me inferior 
evils. I look with a solemn joy on the heroic spirits, who have met freely 
and fearlessly pain and death in the cause of truth and human rights. But 
there are other victims of intolerance, on whom I look with unmixed sorrow. 
They are those, who, spell-bound by early prejudice or by intimidations from 
the pulpit and the press, dare not think ; who anxiously stifle every doubt or 
misgiving in regard to their opinions, as if to doubt were a crime ; who shrink 
from the seekers after truth as from infection ; who deny all virtue, which does 
- not wear the livery of their own sect ; who, surrendering to others their best 
powers, receive unresistingly a teaching which wars against reason and con- 
science ; and who think it a merit to impose on such as live within their influ- 
ence, the grievous bondage, which they bear themselves. How much to be 
deplored is it, that religion, the very principle which is designed to raise men 
above the judgment and power of man, should become the chief instrument 
of usurpation over the soul. 

** Is it said, that, in this country, where the rights of private judgment and 
of speaking and writing according to our convictions, are guarantied with 
every solemnity by institutions and laws, religion can never degenerate into 
tyranny ; that here its whole influence must conspire to the liberation and 
dignity of the mind ? I answer, we discover little knowledge of human 
nature, if we ascribe to constitutions the power of charming to sleep the 
spirit of intolerance and exclusion. Almost every other bad passion may 
sooner be put to rest ; and for this plain reason, that intolerance always 
shelters itself under the name and garb of religious zeal. Because we live in 
a country, where the gross, outward, visible chain is broken, we must not 
conclude that we are necessarily free. There are chains not made of iron, 
which eat more deeply into the soul. An espionage of bigotry may as eflec- 
tually close our lips and chill our hearts, as an armed and hundred-eyed 
police. There are countless ways by which men in a free country may 
encroach on their neighbours* rights. In religion the instrument is ready 
made and always at hand. I refer to Opinion, combined and organized in 
sects, and swayed by the clergy. We say we have no Inquisition. But a 
sect, skilfully organized, trained to utter one cry, combined to cover with 
reproach whoever may differ from themselves, to drown the free expression 
of opinion by denunciations of heresy, and to strike terror into the multitude 



by joint and perpetual menace, — luch a aect is as perilous and palsying to the 
intellect as the Inquisition. It serves the minister as eflfectually as the sword. 
The present age is notoriously sectarian, and therefore hostile to liberty."— 
pp. 25—28. 

Again, in the newly printed volume of your Discourses, he. 
you say ; 

** We do not deny, that our brethren have a right to form a judgment as 
to our Christian character. But we insist that we have a right to be judged 
by the fairest, the most approved, and the most settled rules, by which char- 
acter can be tried ; and when these are overlooked, and the most uncertain 
standard is applied, we are injured ; and an assault on character, which rests 
on this ground, deserves no better name than defamation and persecution. 

** I know that this suggestion of persecution will be indignantly repelled 
by those, who deal most largely in denunciation. But persecution is a wrong 
or injury inflicted for opinions ; and surely assaults on character fall under 
this definition. Some persons seem to think, that persecution consists in 
pursuing error with fire and sword ; and that therefore it has ceased to exist, 
except in distempered imaginations, because no class of Christians among us 
is armed with these terrible weapons. But no. The form is changed, but 
the spirit lives. Persecution has given up its halter and fagot, but it breathes 
venom from its lips, and secretly blasts what it cannot openly destroy. — pp. 
561, 562. 

In the same volume, when speaking (as in the preceding 
extract) against a " system of exclusion and denunciation in 
religion," you make the following remarks ; 

** Another important consideration Is, that this system of excluding men of 
apparent sincerity, for their opinions, entirely subverts free inquiry into the 
scriptures. When once a particular system is surrounded by this bulwark ; 
when once its defenders have brought the majority to believe, that the rejec- 
tion of it is a mark of depravity and perdition, what but the name of liberty is • 
left to Christians ? The obstacles to inquiry are as real, and may be as pow- 
erful, as in the neighborhood of the Inquisition. The multitude dare not 
think, and the thinking dare not speak. The right of private judgment may 
thus, in a Protestant country, be reduced to a nullity. It is true, that men are 
sent to the scriptures ; but they are told before they go, that they will be 
driven from the church on earth and in heaven, unless they find in the scrip- 
tures the doctrines which are embodied in the popular creed. They are told, 
indeed, to inqoire for themselves ; but they are also told, at what points 
inquiry must arrive ; and the sentence of exclusion hangs over them, if they 
happen to stray, with some of the best and wisest men, into forbidden paths. 
Now this 'Protestant liberty' is, in one respect, more irritating than Papal 
bondage. It mocks as well as enslaves us. It talks to us courteously as 
friends and brethren, whilst it rivets our chains. It invites and even charges 
us to look with our own eyes, but with the same breath warns us against 



Meltig anything which Orthodox oye« have DOt eecn before us. Ib ttJi ■ 

■tate of ifiiagB favoiable Id serious inquiry into the Initbi ol ihe gospel ; yet, 
how Jong has rbe church been groaning under (his cruel f oke I 

" AnolherobJectioDlolhlssyalemof excluding professed disdplci of Chrul, 
on accnuiit of their opinions, is, thai it is inconsUtent with the great princi- 
ples of Cangregationaiism. In churches, nhero the power is 1odf«d in a few 
iadiviJunb, who are supposed to be Iho loosi learned men in the coniRmniTjt 
the work of marlting out and cscluding the errooeous may uein less diSicall. 
But ainoug Congreg:ilio[>al1<i«- thn tribunal before which the DfTender is to ba 



brought I 
CDS, Bad orunimprDVidmii 
business ; and partly of me_ 
to law and medicine. Novr . 
of theology 






i,wh 



anil faithfully than all tJi-„ ,^ 
•cioui of their limited 
crimes, professing Cbri 
themselves! II is evidt,. 






to lake Ibis part ii 



mile mo 

ir churches are, In general, 



a I on this point, wi 
ns, wiiase ollico it will be (o I 
errors, to inspect the churches, and to advise and assls 
(ion of * heresy.' Whilst (he laity ate slumbering, the 
stilulion of our churches Is silently undermined, ani! 



if men in humble ci 

tngaged iu active and pressiiig 

ao studies have been directed 

before which the m 

and serious inqulrei 

I eXDinined more laboriowly 

church of humble mea, can- 
to try, for tliesc preleodcd 
honest, nod u exemplary u 

of excluding men for opinions, 

I mialitcr, or a few influenilil 
uo independent and too upright 

To correct tlieir deficiencies, 
e now threatened with new tri. 
I be to try ministers for (heir 

iblillg away. 



«t bu had K 



it is insullicicnt to produce uniformity of opinioi 
more powerful instniiuents of conviction ; I mean, lo eccle- 
iriCAL COURTS. And arc this people indeed prepared to submit to Ibis 
t degrading form of vassalage; a vassalage, which reaches and palsies 
mind, and imposes on it the dreams and fictions of men, for the evcttasting 



-pp.6 



Once more, in yotir preface to the same volume, 



you soy ; 



" It is due (0 myself lo say, that (he controversial character of a part of 
this volume, is to be ascribed, not to the love of disputation, but to Ihe cir- 
cumstances in which I was called to write. It was my lot to enter on public 
life at a time when (his part of the country was visited, by what I esteem 
one of its sorest scourges ; I mean, by a revival of the spirit of intolerance 
and persecution. I saw Ihe coinmencemenC of those systematic elTarls. which 
have been since developed, for fastening on the community a particular 
creed. Opinions, which 1 thought true and purifying, were not only assailed 
as errors. bu( branded as crimes. Then began, what seems lo me one of ihe 
f;rnas inimorahties of our times. Ihe practice of aspersing Ihe characters of 
exemplary men. on the ground of differences of opinion as to Ihe mosl mys- 
terious articles of lalth. Then began those assaults on freedom of thought 



aod speech, which, had they succeeded, would have left us only the name of 
religious liberty. Then it grew perilous to search the scriptures for our- 
selves, and to speak freely according to the conviction of our own minds. I 
saw that penalties, as serious in this country as fine and imprisonment, were, 
if possible, to be attached to the profession of liberal views of Christianity, 
the penalties of general hatred and scorn ; and that a degrading uniformity of 
opinion was to be imposed by the severest persecution, which the spirit of 
the age would allow. At such a period, I dared not be silent. To oppose 
what t deemed error was to me a secondary consideration. My first duty, 
as I believed, was, to maintain practically and resolutely the rights of the 
human mind ; to live and to suffer, if to suffer were necessary, for that Intel > 
lectual and religious liberty, which I prize incomparably more than my civil 
rights. I felt myself called, not merely to plead in general for freedom of 
thought and speech, but, what was more important and trying, to assert this 
freedom by action. I should have felt myself disloyal to truth and freedom, 
had I confined myself to vague commonplaces about our rights, and forborne 
to bear my testimony expressly and specially to proscribed and persecuted 
opinions. The times required that a voice of strength and courage shuuld be 
lifted up, and I rejoice, that I was found among those by whom it was uttered 
and sent far and wide." — pp. vii. viii. 

On the tenor and spirit of these accusations throughout, 
(which however only accord with a multitude of other pas- 
sages in your writings), it is not my purpose here to remark in 
a particular manner. I reserve what I have more specially to 
say respecting these, to another part of the present letter. 

I trust you will have the ingenuousness to avow at once, 
that it was your intention in these passages, and in others of 
the like nature, to characterize the efforts, the arguments, 
the designs, and the cause of those who are usually denomi- 
nated Orthodox or Trinitarians in this Commonwealth. 

You will permit me, in the following pages, to name the 
class of men Orthodox, to whom I here advert, and to call 
their liberal opponents Unitarians. I do this merely for the 
sake of convenience and brevity ; not for the sake of making 
any claims for one party, or of casting any odium on the 
other, by the use of such appellations. 

In the above extracts then, (as often elsewhere), you have 
charged the Orthodox with a settled, steadfast, unrelenting 
purpose to suppress all free inquiry respecting matters of 
religion, to cover with reproach those who may differ from 



themselves, drown ihe free exprossion of cppinion h)f 1 
demiiiciations of heresy, and to strike terror into the mulfr J 
tude hy joint and perpetual menace. In addition lo aOiJ 
tliis, you represent tliem as saying; "Since argument U] 
insuflicient lo produce uniformity of opinion, recourse must 
be had to more powerful instiiunents of conviction, to 
Ecclesiastical '^' " 




If there could 
terize, in the passage 
and from the prefai 
larations in the . 
commences on pag 
versy. I will not 
establish a point 
lliat you yourself 
lop 



did 1 



n you mean to charuc- 
I your Election Sermon^ 
jf your Works, the dec- 
ume, in ilie piece which 
atter beyond all contrc^ 
any time in laboring »• 

1 take it for granii 
ank and in^enuou! 
L 10 characterize Orthodox 



ft 



Christians in general throughout this State, and in particular 
the clergy who belong to this denomination of Christians. 
And I take this for granted, because I cannot help believing 
that no Unitarian who reads your writings, has ever ones 
suspected, or ever will suspect, that you meant to character^ 
ize any other than the Orthodox ; and no Orthodox man 
who reads the whole of your works, can possibly suppose 
otherwise. You aim at real existences, not imaginary, future, 
fantastic ones ; I mean those which you believe to be real. 
The friends with whom I am accustomed to think and act, 
do not once suspect you of laying out your energies, in 
belaboring what you believa-to be " a man of straw." 

For myself then, as one among the denomination of the 
Orthodox, I take my full share of all the remarks which you 
have made against them. One and all of my brethren, with 
whom I am united in sentiment and affection, feel, so far as 
I know, in the same manner as I do, with respect to the 
design of your remarks. We understand you to aim these 
accusations directly at us ; for it does not signify to go 
round and round this matter, as afraid to look at it or to 



9 

touch it. We know that the accusation and reproaches are 
intended to strike us ; and we stand up, without a blush or 
a trembling nerve, before the tribunal of denunciation where 
you have arraigned us, to hear our sentence with that forti- 
tude, we would fain hope, which it becomes those to exer- 
cise who sincerely believe that they are in the right. If we 
now take the liberty to move an arrest of your judgment, we 
hope you will not refuse us a hearing. It is natural, you 
know, for men who are accused of crimes that are capital as 
to reputation if not as to life, to appeal, in case of condem- 
nation, to a higher tribunal, if such appeal be lawful ; and if 
not, to move an arrem of judgment, when the verdict or sen- 
tence does not agret with facts and evidence. Above all 
will they do this, when they know the accusations to be 
wholly ungrounded, and that they are truly innocent of the 
matters laid to their charge. 

I acknowledge, indeed, that a few solitary passages are 
found in your writings, in which you seem to manifest a 
little relenting on the subject of the severe and high wrought 
language with which you reproach me and my brethren. 
You sometimes say, that you aim not at Calvinists^ but at 
Calvinism ; that there are men among the party whom you 
oppose, whose hearts are better than their heads, and whose 
religious character you feel bound to respect ; and other 
things of the like nature. But such declarations are '* few 
and far between." They seem most evidently to be the 
result of mere constraint, when they do appear ; constraint 
arising probably from a sense jiq^ decorum, and apparently 
too from an apprehension, that a strenuous advocate of 
liberality does not appear altogether to the best advantage, 
while he is uttering indiscrimuiate condemnation against 
more than one half of the community in which he lives, and 
which, if it be well grounded, falls with more justice still 
and with heavier weight, on the blessed Pilgrims who laid 
the foundation of his country's happy freedom and greats 

0688. 




It is my most serious conviction, arising from a perusal of 
your writings u* a whole, tliat no one can justly affirm us to 
be under obligation to you on the score of benevolence and 
kindness, because of the exccptiom to which 1 have jual 
referred. A native Feilab of Egypt being in company with 
a recent European traveller tliere of great spirit and intelli- 
gence, he was asked by tlie latter, (who had been expatia- 
ting in praise of the Bashaw of Egj-pt, and on llie happy, 
flourishing, and safe condition of the country), whether he 
did not agree with him as to the munificent and generouf 
character of his sovereign. To tliis the Pellali rephcd, withi 
a most significant look, and elevating his hands towi 
heaven ; " God is great ! Our lord, tfal Bashaw, gives widi 
one hand, and takes away wiib two." So it is, my dear Sir, 
ivith your praise. In some solitary passages, you allow foE 
decency's sake, and in order to save the appearance 
liberality, that there are some among us who have a shars 
of common sense in respect to most subjects, and a few ihi 
have a little smattering of what the world deems learning^, 
possibly two or tliree Orthodox individuals may be found, 
the whole Stale, that have a small degree of cultivated tastCh 
But in other passages almost without number, you rank iht 
whole together, and fearlessly avow tliat none but bigotsi 
and those who have bid adieu to what little understandtnf 
they possessed, can be found in the ranks of OrtliodoxjS 
And what is more than all, some of your partial friends, 
applaud this, and call it bold and fearless declaration of 111 
truth, and the development of high and commanding genius. 

I cannot say, however, that I feel any gratitude for sucfa* 
concessions. It hes on the face of your writings, thai ihe^ 
are against the tenor of your liabitual feelmgs and view% 
which (in respect to us) are most manifestly those of scon^ 
of indignation, and of unsparbg severity. You give witb 
<me hand, but take away with two. For one, I am unable^ 
to bring my mind lo an attitude, in which such gifts can b* 
gratefully accepted. If it be my faidt, may heaven forgivqi 



11 

me for it ! But I am as yet ignorant of its being a fault. I 
have been accustomed to suppose, and do still believe, that 
in a land of religious freedom, the Orthodox have as good a 
right to maintain the doctrines of the Pilgrims, as Unitarians 
have to assail them ; and that the time has not yet come, 
when any one individual, however exalted in his own view 
or in that of his party, can by sweeping denunciations 
and accusations crush all who venture to oppose him. 
Sir, you could not have committed a greater mistake than 
to assume the place of that individual ; to consign us over to 
the ranks of those, who are plotting against the dearest rights 
of all who have any respect for religion ; to hold us up to 
the world as combined to oppress and to enslave (in a 
religious respect) our fellow citizens ; and then to deliver 
us over to the execration of all honest men, who prize 
Christian liberty and social freedom. 

There is no denying that you have done this. It stands 
in high relief in the preceding extracts, which you cannot 
disavow. More especially you cannot disavow them, be- 
cause most of them are not the hasty effusions of moments 
when excitement was urging on the thoughts and the pen 
and the press, but they are declarations reviewed and repvih- 
lished to the world after a series of years, in which, as one 
would naturally suppose, anger had time to cool and re- 
sentment to be disarmed. They are written in characters 
so large and plain, that * he who runneth may read.' Nor 
did you, when you penned them, believe or expect that 
Unitarians would misinterpret them. I cannot refrain from 
believing that you did bond fide mean them to speak, what 
they plainly appear to speak. 

And now, when called before such a tribunal, and loaded 
with denunciations which if credited would forever blast our 
character and ruin our influence with the community, we 
do not confess the justice of our sentence, nor acquiesce in 
it as passed by a court which is the legitimate and ultimate 
source of jurisdiction. We have a right to aL^^-al^^wJL^^ 




12 

do make the appeal, to the pitbtic, to honest and candid 
men of all classes and parties, we care not what their name 
may be, from ihe accusationa that you have so often and 
with such unexampled severity proffered against us, and 
from tiie sweeping judgment of excision (excision as to all- 
respect or ail'ection or confidence due to us) which yi 
have so often pronounced. 

I say we here, not because I am deputed by my brethren 
to perform the task of writing tiiis pamphlet, (for this is not the 
case) ; but because 1 know their sentiments and feeli 
these subjects. None of my bretliren had even any know- 
ledge tliat 1 was engaged in this work, until it was comple- 
ted. So I cannot be accused of acting in concert, or of 
being luged on by tlic calls of pany. But knowing them 
as 1 do, I venture here to speak in their behalf as well as 
my own. Whatever is wrong in this letter, they and the 
public must put to my account alone. Whatever is just and 
true, may be considered as spoken in behalf of all my ia> 
jured brethren as well as myself. 



nd 

the ■ 



tjurea oretnren as well as mysell. ^h 

We are accused of a settled design to invade the religiout^H 
Kberties of this community, and to force upon ihem, soonw ^H 

1 
f 

I 



or later, a creed which was framed in tlie dark ages, and 
is worthy only of them. We are charged with an intention 
to erect ecclesiastical courts, which, like the Inquisition of 
old, are by terror and compulsion to bring this whole Cora* 
monweallh to one uniform system of religious doctrine. 

Such allegations it is proper that we should meet ; and in , 
order to do this, I shall begin with an open declaration and I 
avowal of our sentiments on the subject of religious liberty^ | 
I cannot indeed vouch for it, that every man in this State 
viho is named Orthodox, will subscribe to tlie following 
sentiments. But this 1 can say fully, that all among the 
Orthodox with whom I am acquainted, whether of the clergy 
or of the laity, do for substance agree tn the principles of I 
religious freedom that I am now to propose. All against I 
whom I suppose the denunciations in your works 




13 

ipecially directed, I haye the pleasure of being more or less 
acquainted with ; and I know well their feelings and views. 
I venture therefore to say we ; and I am fully confident, 
that the avowal made in this manner cannot be contradicted 
by any credible evidence whatever. 

Let us come then to the sentiments of the Orthodox, in 
regard to religious liberty. I will be as brief as the nature 
of the case admits. You will pardon me, however, for 
being somewhat particular and specific^ because I wish to 
be definitely understood, and to allow of no room for misin- 
terpretation. 

1. We hold that every individval h(U a perfect right to 
examine and decide for himself what his own religious sentir 
ments or creed shall be. 

We mean by tliis, that no law of the land, no public 
authority or tribunals, and no private combmation or so- 
ciety of men to which be has not voluntarily attached him* 
self, shall have any power to demand from him any religious 
creed whatever, i. e. no power shall compel him to profess 
any creed, by civil penalty either in respect to his person, 
bis property, or his civil or social rights. We are far from 
believing that religion has no connection with the prosperiQr 
and stability of government. We do fully believe that no 
good government on earth can be long maintained and be 
stable, without piety among its subjects. But this is an 
influence of religion on government and a connection with it, 
which are indirect. We do not bold to the expediency, or 
propriety, or safety, of committing in any sense to the civil 
government the disposal of religious matters, in respect 
either to faith or modes of worship. The only power which 
we wish ever to see them possess, is, that they may check 
what is indecent, or hurtful to the public morals, or dan- 
gerous to. peace on account of tlie injury which it does to 
others. But this we would always desire to see effected, 
rather as an offence that is indictable at common law than 
by statute. We wish always to see civil government pro* 



lect all ils citizens m the peaceful enjoyment of thdr 
religious privileges ; lo do this, on the same ground that we 
should wish to see its subjects protected with respect to any 
other rights that are dear to them. We mean that the 
Maltomeian even, and the Jew, and the Deist, as well as 
the Cliristian, should have tlie liberty of worshipping in his 
own way among us, so long as they demean themselves 
peaceably, and do not invade the rights of others. We 
know of no exception to participation in civU and todat^ 
rights, and the right of worshipping m our own way, or of^ 
even not worshipping in any way, under a government tlut' 
is free in the sense that we would have it ; and all this witlh'. 
out any abridgement of the rights of citizens, tvithoul any 
civil disabilities. At most we know of only one case, to 
which an exception can he made on tlie ground of religious 
opinion. This is, where a man denies the existence of a. 
God, or of a state of future rewards and punishments, 
such a case, we do not see how the obligation of an oat 
can have any binding force at all ; and therefore we 
see the propriety of administering one, eitlier as a ' 
or as a magistrate. We cannot help looking on it as a tni 
mockery of this solemnity, to administer an oath 



I 



We are aware how much has been said, and may be s 
in favor of the State having some established form of re) 
gion, and some particular religious test of office. But w 
are fully persuaded, that the evils which result from such a 
arrangement very much outweigh all ilie good tliat can bO' j 
derived from it. Religion, all true religion, is a voluntarif [ 
ofiering on tlie part of man to his Creator. A forced creed' 
is no creed. Behef, from its own nature and the very coiH' J 
stiiution of the human mind, must be free, spontaneous^ | 
induced by argument, not compelled by fear or by threats.' \ 
All professed belief of this latter kind, is utterly unworlliy of j 
tlie name. It is an object of abhorrence to God, and o^l 
loathing to men. And whether an attempt is made lo forced \ 



16 

it on our minds, by the terrors of an Inquisitorial tribu- 
nal, or by the milder penalties of additional taxation and 
loss of civil rights, it matters not with us. We will not say 
that both of these, ways of enforcing it ought to receive equal 
disapprobation from us ; but we do truly say, that both 
receive our unqualified disapprobation. 

We are the more confirmed in our views of religious 
Uberty as already explained, because we see very plainly, 
that the religious opinions which the civil power may sanc- 
tion to-day, it may to-morrow proscribe. It has often done 
so. But believing as we do, that religion is a matter of 
immeasurably great# interest than every thing which pertains 
to the present world, we should be among the last men on 
earth to commit the disposal of our faith to the civil magis- 
trate, who might on one day exalt the Christian religion, and 
on another trample the cross beneath his feet. We set too 
high a value on this precious gift of heaven, ever voluntarily' 
to commit the keeping of it to hands which may thus dese- 
crate and abuse it. 

I have only a word to add here, in order to prevent being 
misunderstood, respecting a special obligation which one 
may voluntarily contract, to a religious society who cherish 
a particular belief. 

If we enter such a society, profesai|p the same belief with 
them, and understand it as a condition of membership or 
good standing among them that we continue to cherish the 
same belief, then, in case we do change it, it is plainly lawful 
and proper that the society should withdraw from its con- 
nection with us as a member. But all this is a thing merely 
of voluntary obligation. And in no case whatever^ do we 
believe that civil disabilities or penalties should be connected 
with any excommunication by a Christian church. 

2. We not only believe that all men should be left free 
to form their religious opinions, without any civil penalties 
or disabilities, but we maintain most fully, that when the 
religious sentiments of any one are formed j he has a right to 




propagate tkem, to defend litem, and to support tkem, by kit 
efforts, his pen, his property, or his influence. 

In all this we understand of course, that in so doing bs I 
does not slander or abuse his neighbor, nor deny him 
civil or social right as a member of tlie community, nor hinder ' 
liim in the lawful exercise of it. Of the former of these 
faults the civil latr justly may take cognizance. Against ibc 
latter, the law of love and of doing as we would be done bjr^ ^ 
protests. 4M 

We believe most fully, that men have a right to propagBtn 
their religious sentiments, if they confine themselves to arga> 
ment and persuasion, and do not appeSlo abuse, which ii 
a. crime in the eye of the civil law, it being manifestly 
against the peace of the community. We are well aware, 
indeed, of the mischiefs which may resuh from a free right 
to propagate religious, or rather irreligious senlimems of any 
kind. We know too well, what incalculable evil the publi> 
cation of such books as the Age of Reason, the works of 
Boulanger, of Voltaire, and of La Meiirie have occasioned. 
We shudder at it as one of the most dreadful of evils, in8»' 
much as it takes hold an eternity and not merely on time. 
But dreadful as it is, we regard as a still greater evil, itw m 
power of civil govcrnmeni, or of any ecclesiastical tribunal 
to suppress the public^on of books at its option. To-dt{J 
it may choose, as Frederic the Great did, and the Frend 
Directory after him, to circulate widely Voltaire, and D'Alem 
bert, and Rousseau ; or to-morrow it may spread wide t 
poison of some heresy lurking under a Christian i 
while, at the same time, it inhibits all sniidDtos to 1 
tremendous evils. The liberty of the press, the t 
liherty of it, is in our view fundamental to religious liberf 
If the press be, as it doubtless sometimes Is, a most t 
instrument of doing evil ; it is also one of the i 
of all instruinents in doing good. We would forevE 
it open and free to do good ; and if the liberty to do e*i 
must come along with this, (and we do not see how it I 




17 

possible to prevent it), why then the friends of truth must 
trust to argument, to reason, to conscience, and to God, 
for triumph over the powers of darkness. And this they 
may do, without peril to the cause in which they are en- 
gaged. 

If I have not liberty to propagate my religious sentiments, 
provided I do it by reason, and argument, and persuasion, 
and with decorum, then I am not free. Liberty in its high- 
est and most precious sense is denied me. As an immortal 
being, I look forward to the time when myself and all around 
me are to enter on the " recompense of reward," a final and 
eternal one. If I am serious in my religious views ; if I am 
well persuaded that they are true, and this after repeated 
and protracted and patient examination ; then I must be 
utterly destitute even of the spirit of common humanity, if I 
do not desire others to participate with me in this persuasion. 
Were it a matter pertaining merely to their temporal inter- 
ests, most of my fellow beings would pronounce me destitute 
of humanity in case I should not warn those around me 
whom I thought to be in danger, and should not excite them 
to escape from it. But O the never-dying soul ! The 
awful tribunal of " eternal judgment !" " The fearfulness of 
falling into the hands of the living God, who is a consuming 
fire !" If I beUeve that there are unequivocal declarations 
in God's word, (as I truly do), in respect to these tremen- 
dous subjects ; if I believe that the impenitent are surely 
exposed to endless misery ; that those who reject the Sa- 
viour as he is ofiTered in the gospel, '* shall not see hfe, but 
that the wrath of God will abide on them ;" can I as a man 
of any pretensions to benevolence, refrain from telling all 
this to others, from urging it upon them, and from warning 
them of the danger in which I sincerely believe them to be ? 
Truly, the opponents of our religious views must halt here, 
and candidly avow, that if such are our real convictions, we 
ought in all good conscience to urge them upon our neigh- 
bors. 

3 



18 

Say, if you please, that we are utterly mistaken ; that all 
our convictions are the result of superstition, or prejudice, or 
bigotry, or of a narrow illiberal education ; yet so long as we 
are in this plight, what are we to do ? As honest men, we 
must follow the dictates of our consciences. We acknowl- 
edge the possibility that these may be blinded, or perverted, 
or even " seared ;" but so long as we are not convinced 
that this is the case, how can we do otherwise than propa- 
gate our sentiments by all proper methods and with all the 
earnestness in our power? The liberty of doing this, we 
value as much more than we do mere civU liberty, as the 
interests of eternity exceed in value those of time. 

If then it is essential to a full enjoyment of religious 
liberty, that rmn should have the right of propagating their 
religious sentimentSj whatever they may be ; and that they 
should be restrained by the laws of the land, only so far as 
the laws guard the reputation of individuals who may be 
assailed and protect them from injury as to their property or 
rights ; it will of course follow, that men should have the 
right of defending their sentiments when they are assailed^ 
and of showing y if they can do sOy that the sentiments of those 
who assail them are erroneous and hurtful. 

Here, my dear Sir, is a part of religious liberty, on which 
it does seem to me that yourself, and some others who have 
the like zeal with you against the Orthodox, have not suffi- 
ciently reflected, or that you are unwilling to concede it. 
We believe, on the part of the Orthodox, that the sentiments 
of those distinguished men who fled from persecution in the 
old world, in order that they might worship God in the new 
one, and in such a way as best agreed with the dictates of 
their consciences, — ^that these sentiments do essentially agree 
with the revelation which God has made in the holy Scrip- 
tures. We believe this ex animo, from persuasion, because 
we have searched the Scriptures and think that we find 
these sentiments there ; not because Calvin, and the Re- 
formers, and the Pilgrims believed them. The possibility 



19 

of this, you I trust are prepared to admit. If there are 
bigots among us, as you so often assert, at least, I may 
venture to suggest, we are not all bigots. Such of us then 
as believe from investigating the Bible, that the sentiments 
of the Reformation are found there, hold fast to the position 
that we ought to have the liberty of defending these senti- 
ments when they are assailed, and of exposing, if we can, 
the errors of those who assail them. 

But here, it woq|4 seem, is the very essence of our crime. 
In your view, it appears to be altogether commendable, that 
Unitarians should deluge the community with Improved 
Versions, with the works of FeUowes, and Belsham, and 
Priestley, and Cappe, and others of the like character 5 that 
they should form themselves mto Tract Societies and dis- 
tribute hundreds of thousands of Unitarian tracts, assailing 
the sentiments of the Orthodox openly, or secretly un- 
dermining the principles which they regard as of vital im- 
portance ; that they should form Missionary Societies and 
endeavor not only to spread their principles among the 
Hindoos and cooperate with Rammohun Roy, but to traverse 
the regions of the West and South in our own land, and 
forestall the efforts of the Orthodox there ; that they should 
hold public meetings, in which not only the clergy, but 
legislators, civilians, and judges from the highest seat of 
justice, come forward and excite the multitude against 
Orthodoxy ; that they should issue periodicals monthly; 
weekly, and almost daily, in which the public are warned 
against the Inquisition that is forming among them, and 
the desperate set of bigots who are forging chams for their 
religious liberty ; that they should declaim agamst these men 
and their principles, (their alleged or supposed principles), 
from one Sabbath to another, (in which you above all others, 
unless you are very erroneously represented, have taken the 
lead) ; all this, and much more of the same nature, is not 
only lawful in your eyes, but altogether conmiendable. In 
public and in private, from the pulpit and the press, you 



20 

have not ceased to urge on, with all your eloquoice, mea- 
sures of this and the like nature. 

But turn now the tablet, and look at the other side of the 
picture. When the Orthodox publish their books, tracts, 
and peripdicals, they are represented as bigots and as raving 
mad. They have neither modesty nor humility. When 
they associate for the purposes of friendly conference and 
coimsel, and in order to strengthen each other's hands, and 
to encourage each other to walk in thf 4 way of their fore- 
fathers, they are plottmg in order to enclose the communiQr 
in the toils of the Inquisition ; they are forming ^^ Ecclesias- 
tical Courts,'^ before which all liberal-minded men, that 
choose to think and investigate for themselves, are sooner 
or later to be brought, add to be made to know that there is 
only one way of thmking which is to be tolerated. And 
since such high crimes and misdemeanors as these have been 
laid to their charge, the public are told, that " the times 
have required a voice of strength and courage to be 
lifted up ; and you rgoice that you are fi>und among 
those by whom it has been uttered and sent far and vndeJ" 
(Preface, p. vii.) Not a movement can they make, but they 
are suspected of forging manacles for the Liberalists, or at 
least of looking up the iron to make them with. The 
forges, to be sure, are under ground and out of sight, like 
the shops of the fabled Cyclops ; but you know, as the 
neighbors of these famous blacksmiths of old did, that opera' 
tions are going on, for you hear the strokes. 

On the claim for yourself of ^' a voice of strength and 
courage," and of " uttering and sending it far and mde^^ it 
does not become me to make any remarks. The thing I 
shall leave to speak for itself. But in respect to the assump- 
tion, (in the whole paragraph connected with this declaration, 
and in a multitude of other places in your publications), that 
all which is done by the Orthodox to oppose the views and 
designs of Liberalists is bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, 
and unlawful conspiracy against religious liberty, and design 



21 

to bring in again the dark ages of superstition and terror — 
all this assumption, in a land of religious liberty, where every 
man has the same right to defend and propagate his own 
sentiments as his neighbor has to propagate opposite ones ; 
all this too, in the State of Massachusetts, the very 
HOME of the Pilgrims — it requires some meekness to hear 
without emotion, and to bear with becoming patience. 

What reason now, my dear Sir, can you assign, why the 
Orthodox have not as good a right to their Associations and 
Societies, their tracts, their pamphlets, their periodicals, 
yea, their octavos ; their zeal also, and their union, their 
strenuousness even — in order to maintain their own senti- 
ments, as you and those who are with you have to all these in 
behalf of Unitarianism ? It is a fair question, and I do insist 
on a sober answer to it. Will you say, that men have no 
right to be in earnest, in defending bigotry ? I know you 
do say this ; that is, you say what manifestly implies this* 
But then I am not to be diverted from my argument by 
such an answer. Who, I ask, has made the decision, that 
Orthodoxy is bigotry ? " Dr. Channing and his friends 
affirm it." Granted ; but in a land of liberty^ there is a 
freedom of thought to be aUowed ; and by far the greater 
portion of our community have made up their mi ads, that 
there is no bigotry in the sentiments in question. But you, 
Sir, take for granted the very question in dispute; and 
taking this for granted, you decide just as though there was 
no appeal from your tribunal, and consign us over to the 
ranks of dark designing conspirators against the religious 
liberties of our country. It is too late to deny this, or to 
tread back as to these charges, unless indeed you recall 
them. They have gone forth " far and wide," and with ** a 
voice of strength ;" and I appeal to every honest and in* 
genuous man on earth, be he Unitarian or Trinitarian, 
whether they do not fairly imply all that I have understood 
them to imply. 



22 

Sir, I repeat it once more, the Orthodox do not under- 
stand why they have not the liberty of defending the opinions 
which their ancestors held, in case they do sincerely accord 
with them. That they do sincerely agree, they openly pro- 
fess and avow ; and neither yourself, nor any man on earth, 
has a right to call this in question. Why then do you re- 
proach us, that we are in earnest to defend and to propagate 
our belief? We do from the heart believe, that the eternal 
salvation of our feUow beings is connected with a hearty 
assent to the fundamental principles which we avow. Should 
we not then be entirely destitute even of common humanity ; 
should we not be treacherous to the cause which we profess 
to believe is infinitely important ; should we not in fact be 
gross hypocrites — if we did not manifest our eai'nestness in 
maintaining and propagating our religious sentiments ? 

But you will concede the theory of this principle. You 
will say, however, that the manner of our defending and 
propagating our sentiments is what you condemn, and that 
this is the principal subject of your severe animadversions. 

To this I reply, first, that such is not the case in point of 
fact. You have represented us as having dark, selfish, ma- 
lignant purposes, as determined at all adventures to introduce 
compulsion into matters of religion, a compulsion ' worse 
than the terrors of the Inquisition and the chains which it 
forges.' This surely is die blackest crime of. all, if it be 
truly ours ; and this as surely has nothing to do with the man- 
ner in which we defend and propagate our sentiments. 

Next, as to the manner itself, I have but few remarks to 
make. I am ready to concede, on my part, that I have seen 
and read things among the Orthodox, the manner of which I 
in some respects heartily disapproved. I have never thought, 
that to rail at our opponents was either Christian or courte- 
ous. Above all, every reflecting man must say, Nothing 
can be more improbable, than that this kind of proceeding 
will be likely to convince those who differ from us. Who 
will hear us with patience, when we begin our reproof by 



23 

letting him know that we think him either a fool or a 
knave ? 

I am not blinded to this by party zeal. I have seen some 
of it among those whom I warmly love and greatly respect. 
Perhaps I may have shown some of this same disposition in 
my own writings. If so, produce it, and I will tread tjiat 
part under my feet, and make my atonement by unfeigned 
sorrow to an injured public, and to the injured cause of 
Christ. But if I have indulged in such a mode of writing, 
I am unconscious of it to myself. I disapprove it ; I even 
abhor it ; and yet I know tliat I am not proof against tempta- 
tion, and that I am exposed to all the weaknesses and faults 
of those around me. 

But while I thus answer to one part of your complaint by 
confession, I must be permitted to say, that so far as I have 
been able to form a judgment from reading the periodicals 
and pamphlets of both parties, I do think tliat there is a wide 
difference between the faults of the Orthodox in this respect 
and those of Unitarians. I know of nothing in any recent 
Orthodox publications, which can well compare with ^ the 
reiterated charges against us by Unitarians, from the pulpit 
and the press, of bigotry, of gloomy superstition, of dark and 
fraudulent designs on the religious liberties of our country, 
of worshipping a God who is a tyrant, of propagating horri- 
ble and blasphemous ideas of the Divinity, of worshipping a 
God who is no better than the devil, of an intention to renew 
the horrors of the Inquisition, of being gloomy, unsocial, 
illiterate misanthropes, enthusiasts, hypocrites, deceivers, and 
other things of the like nature. It were easy to substantiate 
this charge by abundance of evidence ; and this too tagu 
publications which you yourself patronize by your pen, your 
purse, and your approbation. 

But I forbear. The subject is distressing — ^it is even 
odious. There are men, I know, among your own denomi- 
nation, who see all this and look upon it just as I do. You 
are very far from being agreed among yourselves in respect 



24 

to such measures, as you must know ; at least if you do not 
know it, your friends must have been uncommonly resenred 
in their communications. There are men among you, and 
not a few, of high and ingenuous feelings, who take the liberty 
to believe that the Orthodox have the same right to *^ urge 
hard " as the Unitarians have, and who look with disgust on 
all tlie accusations of such a nature as those to which I have 
adverted. 

Notwithstanding all that has been done, however, in the way 
of making such accusations against us, I do not appear as an 
apologist for any severity, or for the calling of hard names, 
or for ill natured accusations, on the part of myself or of my 
brethren. If we are guilty in this respect, we stand con- 
demned. But it is to be expected, that when men are charged 
with a great crime because they choose to walk, and insist on 
walking, in the old paths of the Reformers, and when they 
are assailed in an angry and bitter and scornful manner for 
so doing, that some of them may be betrayed to go beyond 
the boundaries, which Christian meekness and forbearance 
and even self-respect allow. I say this is not strange ; al- 
though I do not deny that it is wrong. But if it be wrong, 
you, my dear Sir, are one of the last men who have a title 
to reproach us with this wrong, as I shall have occasion to 
show still further in the sequel, before this letter is closed. 

Enough for the present, on the religiovs liberty which wc 
avow and advocate, the liberty to defend our own sentiments 
and to propagate them. No government can properly inter- 
fere with this right. Nor can any party justly deny us such 
a liberty as I have endeavored to defend. I know of no 
power on earth, which has the right to say to our opponents, 
** You shall have unbounded liberty of speaking, and writing, 
and acting, in order to defend and propagate your senti- 
ments; but the Orthodox cannot justly claim the same 
liberty for themselves." 

That men should differ in opinion, is incident to the 
frailty of human nature, and to the imperfection of human 



26 

knowledge. But still we hold sacred the right to maintain 
our honest convictions, not by word and writing only, but by 
the use of our property and influence as well as our tongues 
and pens. Our Bill of Rights in this State assures us of 
this privilege. We have a right to endow seminaries in 
order to furnish teachers of our own sentiments ; we have a 
right to demand protection in this ; the very same rights in 
both respects as Unitarians have. We have a right to give 
our property to churches of our own way of thinking, and to 
believe and maintain that parishes are not of course churches. 
We have a right to feel ourselves injured when this property 
is wrested from us under color of the law. We have rights 
in a University which is the property of the whole State, 
and was not founded or exclusively endowed by Unitarians ; 
at least we have such rights, so long as we are not absolutely 
disfranchised. We have a right to expect that the property 
of the State in such an establishment, should not be appro- 
priated to the purposes of a party ; and that the instructers 
in them should not give their services to one sect only, 
which has in fact^ although not in name, excluded all others 
from any participation with them in these privileges. We 
who have children to educate, in common with our fellow 
citizens, feel the loss of such rights. We cannot help deeply 
feeling them; for we are obliged to send our children 
abroad, at a great expense, in order to avoid their becoming 
partisans in the present warfare against our own sentiments. 
We do not complain that our sentiments are opposed ; but 
we complain that they are opposed in this way, and at the 
sacrifice of rights that we hold dear and deem sacred. We 
do not complain that Unitarians build up seminaries for 
themselves, in order to educate young men to spread abroad 
and defend their own sentiments ; they have an entire right 
to build up schools, coDeges, or theological seminaries of this 
kind, and to confine their privileges to their own body. The 
Bill of Rights assures them of this privilege. But they 
should remember, that it assures us of the same. What we 

4 



complain of is, that aii Institution which belongs in commoitfl 
to the whole State, which was founded and endowed lo ^m 
large extent by Orthodox men, and consecrated lo maintaiBBfl 
Ing their faith, should now be made exclusively a par^.fl 
seminary, so iliat from the President down to the janitor, oaiM 
man of knojcn Orthodox sentiments, can Gnd access there wl 
an instriicler. We complain that rights public and commo%|fl 
should be seized by one exclusive party, and appropriated uA 
their own purposes ; that teachers, maintained at the expenMifl 
of the Commonwealtb, should be devoted to a seminaiJ^H 
exclusively Unitarian, and paid from a fund in which th^l 
Orthodox have a common interest. Of all ibis we coi]i^| 
plain; but never shall or can complain. That UnitariaiiaM 
manage their own Seminaries entirely in their own wayi|A 
provided always, that they concede to us the same hberty. ifl 

Look now for a moment on this whole case, and pUfl 
yourself in our place. Would you not feel, could you fael^| 
feeling, that you had to deal with those, who being in possfli^l 
sion of power forget right ? And yet, Sir, you are not onlt^H 
looking on, but heartily approving of all this, and have youTi^H 
self been an efficient agent in bringing it about. How can i|H 
be that tliere is only one side to such a question ? .fl 

We are severely reproached, because we separate in omifl 
religious communion and worship from Unitarians. Sodmh 
of your strongest expressions of disapprobation and indignft-.! 
tion are poured out against us for this. And yet, ivhen ll 
examine this matter to the bottom, 1 am unable to see tho M 
justice of this reproof. We do sincerely believe, that cer- I 
Iain sentiments are essential to the Cbrisiian religion. WkI 
regard them as being so essential, that true Christianity.^ 
cannot exist without them. Whether we are in the right I 
or the wrong as to this, it is not my present purpose to iar^l 
quire. Enough tliat we sincerely believe ourselves to be in>fl 
the right. If so, then how can others deny us the liberty of ■ 
thinking and acting in a manner that accords with this ? If fl 
we should not do so, it would be proof that we were neither I 



27 

sincere nor in earnest, in our religious sentiments ; in other 
words, that we were hypocrites. You may believe this of 
us; and judging by the general tenor of your writings, I 
know not how to avoid the conclusion that you do think so. 
But we still aver, that you have no right to affirm this ; and 
we must maintain this position, so long as our consciences 
acquit us in respect to the matter of this accusation. 

In separating from those who differ from us in religious 
opinion, (as we believe, fundamentally), we are not led on 
by motives of bigotry or of an exclusive spirit. We are 
prone to ask a question which is not recent ; " How can two 
walk together, unless they are agreed ?" We do not urge 
these words beyond what we think to be their plain and 
obvious import. We do not think that small differences of 
opinion about non-essentials^ are intended to be included in 
them. We limit the meaning to agreement in things, which 
in our view are essential. Such we do honestly believe to 
be the difference between Unitarians and ourselves. And 
such, not a few of the Unitarians themselves have avowed it 
to be. Mr. Belsham declares that '^ we do not worship the 
same God ;" and some of your writers and speakers declare, 
that the God whom we worship is a devU. How can you 
complain, then, that we separate from you ? Surely you do 
not wish to be united in the bonds of communion with such 
worshippers. If you have any conscience on this subject, 
it must remonstrate against it. 

But who among the Orthodox ever complains that Unita- 
rians separate from them ? I trust none. An inconsistency 
with the principles that we profess, would lie on the very 
face of such a complaint. 

We do not proscribe men from whom we separate in our 
worship, either in a civil or social respect. We vote for 
them as our magistrates and legislators. We help to elevate 
them to the highest offices in the State ; we do so, because 
there are among our religious opponents men whose civil and 
social worth we acknowledge, and pay it the cheerful tribute 




28 

of our regard. We do it also, because the State m which 
we live is so divided in matters of religious opinio 
fully believe a religious test for civil honor and cilice would 
be altogether inexpedient. We rejoice sincerely in iho I 
welfare of those whose religious opinions dtiTer from ours, and 
cheerfully contribute to do them civil honor. All this can- 
not be denied of us with trutii. And wfaea we separate irota ' 
them in our worship, it is witli pain, with deep regreti willi 
ardent wislies that they might cherish tlie like religious sent!- , 
ments witii ourselves ; but witli a consciousness too, that our 
duty to the principles wliich we profess, obliges us to ti 
the course tliat we pursue. 

Such are our views, feelings, and motives, in regard tQ i 
the painful subjecis of dispute now agitated in this commiir 
nily. Such I am sure are my own ; and such, I have satis- ] 
factory evidence, are llie views of my beloved brethren witt^l 
whom I have the pleasure to be associated in action and ill J 
belief. 

I have thus given a brief view, in regard to our opiniotts 
about religious liberty and the rights of conscience. In dif- 
feriug from many around us, and in separating from their 
religious communion, we well know, we do fully recognize 
the fact, that we are responsible to the great He4D of iha 
Church. But we as fully believe, that we are responsible 
ONLY to Him. We do not mean to deny others the right of 
remonstrating, and of endeavoring to show us liiat our course 
is wrong ; but it is also true, that we do not believe they 
have any right to demand that we should abandoD it ; nor do 
we think that to caU us bigots, and hypocrites, and plotters 
against the religious liberties of the State, is the most Chri^ 
tian way of reclaiming us, J 

And now in view of these principles and of these facts in * 
reference to Orthodox Christians, I would ask. Where is the 
ground of the accusations which are made against them ks 
conspiring against the dearest liberties of the Common- 
wealth ? I have often been struck, my dear Sir, in reading 




29 

your writmgs as well as those of others, with the manner in 
which you prefer charges of the most heinous nature against 
us. On your own side, all that your party have done is 
liberal, and just, and noble, and worthy of the exalted age 
in which the '^ march of mind" has become so conspicuous, 
and which is carrying us on with a rapid stride far away 
from the Cimmerian regions of Calvin and Luther ; nay, the 
boldest assertions, the most p^ilous propositions, if not evi- 
dence of a well directed and skilful aim at the enemy, seem 
to be evidence in your view of great valor and of high de- 
votedness to the cause of the New Reformation. On the 
other band, all efforts of the like nature among us, in de- 
fence of our own sentiments, or in the way of assailing what 
we think to be errors — all these from beginning to end, ap- 
pear to be reputed as mere evidences of narrow mindedness^ 
of gloomy bigotry, of furious zeal, of a persecutmg spirit, 
and of dark designs to renew the manacles and the dun- 
geons to which the disciples of Ignatius Loyola have so long 
made their appeal. 

Sir, I do not understand this. By whom has the great 
question been prejudged and settled, whether all that is just 
and true is so plainly on the side of Unitarianism, that it 
does not so much as admit of a single doubt, or rather, that 
it is to be assumed as a matter of course ? Or is this as- 
sumption even founded on one of the great a priori princi- 
ples of our moral nature, which it needs no reasoning to 
settle, and which no arguments can make plainer or stronger 
than it is from the very first moment that it is presented to 
the mind? So one who reads your writings, would be 
strongly tempted to suppose you deem it to be. What you 
say and write on subjects connected with religious dispute, 
bears this impress on its very face. If not, then I can solve 
the appearances in your writings, only by a supposition more 
disagreeable still, and to which I shall never resort without 
being absolutely driven to do it ; I mean the supposition, 
that you have, by the flattery of your friends, and in conse- 



queiice of diciaiing to your party so long, at last come lo the 
posItioQ of mind, that alras lipa is enough ; that you expect 
as a matter of course, thai all which you utter will be readily 
assented to, and diat none but bigots will venture to call it 
in question. I will not, however, believe this cither of you 
or your friends, witliout better evidence than any tliat yet 
lies before tlie public. I could easily believe iliat some of 
the journal and newspaper writers, who employ so many 
paragraphs in fulsome and bloated eulogies of your works, 
might belong lo the class supposed above. But as 1 have 
no apprehension that you have any concert with them, or 
even thank ihem for the lacker which they strive to put on 
you, I have not a word more lo say concerning ihem. What 
there is in your writings that deserves praise, (and this is 
much, and some of it of a very high order too), they seem 
to me to be so unfortunate as not to see; and what is of « 
different or doubtful character, they are pretty sure to laud 
in the most extravagant and disgusting manner. 

Having thus explained the views and feelings of myself and 
my friends, in relation to the religious liberty which we think 
lo be proper, and which we shall ever strenuously advocate, 
and thus prepared the way to decide more fully how little 
your apprehensions respecting our principles and designs are 
capable of being justified and defended ; I now proceed more 
fttUy to developc, (as I intimated near the commencement of 
this letter it was my intention to do), tht tenor and spirit of 
your accusations against us. 

In order to present a combined and condensed view of 
these, I must beg the liberty of repealing here, not the words 
in all cases, but the substance and spirit of the passages 
which ilie beginnmg of this letter presents. These, united 
with other exUacta from your writings which I intend lo 
make, will enable every intelligent reader to judge for him- 
self, whether the complaints which I have brought forward, 
and which I have still to prefer, are not sufficiently well 
grounded. 




31 

I make no hesitation in repeating the expression of my 
entire undoubting conviction, that the Orthodox are the men 
whom you mean to characterize in these and the Uke pas- 
sages ; and all proof of this, to any intelligent reader, I must 
think to be utterly unnecessary. 

In the first extract just named, you intimate that ' the reli- 
gion of the Orthodox has been turned into spiritual tyranny, 
that it has fastened superstitions on the conscience, subdued 
the ignorant and susceptible with spiritual terrors, spread far 
and wide dark appalling views of God, struck a dread of 
inquiry into superior understandings, and made servility of 
spirit to pass for piety. The intimidations [of the Orthodox} 
from the pulpit and the press have rendered some too timid 
to think, made them anxiously stifle every doubt or misgiving 
in regard to their opinions, to shrink ftom the seekers after 
truth as from infection, to surrender their best powers to 
others and unresistingly to receive a teaching which wars 
against conscience and reason. [Orthodoxy] makes chains 
that eat mofe deeply into the soul than those of iron. This 
espionage of bigotry as effectually closes our lips and our 
hearts as an armed and hundred-eyed police. This opinion 
is combined and organized in sects^ and swayed by the 
clergy. A sect skilfully organized, trained to utter one cry, 
combined to cover with reproach whoever may differ from 
themselves, to drown the free expression of opinion by denun- 
ciations of heresy, and to strike terror into the multitude by 
joint and perpetual menace — such a sect is as perilous and 
pakying to the intellect, as the Inquisition. It serves the 
minister as effectually as the sword. The present age %$ 
notoriously seciarianj and therefore hostile to liberty.^ Elect. 
Serm. pp. 25—28. 

Of course, then, the present age is one in which such a 
sect lives, (i. e. in your estimation) ; and lives, not in Europe 
or Asia, where it would very litde concern us, but here at 
home, in Old Massachusetts, the land of the blessed Pilgrims ; 
and this sect is neither more nor less than the Orthodox. It 



32 

would be strange indeed to deny that yoii meant lo afiirra 
this, merely because you have not here called thetn by name; 
I will not for a moment suppose you to be capable of such 
dismgenijousness. 

In the second extract above named, you suggest thai ' tha 
accusalion of ii persecuting spirit, will be repelled on the pan 



Hilt you insist upon it 
allege, are not the only 
irm may be changed, 
has indeed given up its 
im from itt Ups, and 
Ifiiroy." Works, pp. 

be, wiiicli has such * 

I be for Massachusetts, 

mgth" to reach " far and 

fen, whenever 



of tlie Orthodox will; 
that it is true. Fire 
instruments of perse 
while llie spirit lives.' 
halter and fagot ; but U C 
tecretiy bloats what it i i 
661, 562. 

A terrible H] 
poisonous breath ; ippy mui 

that she can furnish " a voice of strt 
wide" enougii to frighten it back to its 
it makes its appearance and begins to hiss ! 

In the third long extract as mentioned above, ihe Inquisi- 
tion is again brought upon the tapis. ' The multitude [of the 
Orthodox] dare not think or speak, because [the Inquisition 
in tlie new form] is more terrible than tfiat of Spain. Men 
are told indeed to search the Scriptures ; but they know full 
well, that unless they find tliere the creed of the Orthodox, 
tliey must undergo the penalty of exclusion. All this is 
worse than Papal bondage. And on tbe ground of Congre- 
gationalism, the church can be little more than the tool of tbe 
minister in the business of exclusion. So all comes into the 
hands of the clergy ; who, in order to complete the whole 
plan, are forming Consociations, and erecting ecclesiasticai. 
COURTS, which are to compel men to believe as they do. This 
is a most degrading form of vassalage, imposing on the mind 
the dreams and fictions of men, for the everlasting truth of 
God.' Works, pp. 665, 566. 

The fourth extract presents an apology for your controver- 
sial efforts. This in substance is, that ' you saw assaults on 



53 

freedom of thought and speech [by the Orthodox], whidi 
would have left us only the name of religious liberty. It be- 
came perilous to search the Scriptures for ourselvesi and to 
speak our own convictions. The often reiterated idea of 
penalties as bad as fine and imprisonment is again introducedf 
[a spectre which seems to have haunted you with more than 
ordinary obtrusiveness and pertinacity] ; and then to frighten 
this spectre away, your strong voice was raised, and it made 
its retreat.' Works. Pref. pp. vii. viii. 

Here I might rest my case, having made out proof enough 
of the ground of complaint which I have alleged, in respect 
to the treatment that we have received at your hands. But 
that I may not seem to have fastened on a few paragraphs, 
and to have dealt unfairly, I proceed still farther to cite from 
your Works. 

On page 215, you speak of Robert Fellowes' work as * a 
useful vindication of Christianity from the gross errors which 
Calvinism has labored to identify with this divine system.' 

Page 216, you speak of the '^ five thorny points of Calvin- 
ism," and say that «' few designs are more praiseworthy, than 
to free Christianity from the reproach brought upon it by that 
system." 

On the same page you assert, that '^ Calvinism owes its per- 
petuity to the influence of fear in palsying the moral nature ;" 
that it terrifies men so '' that they dare not confess, even to 
themselves, the shrinking, which they feel, from the imworthy 
views which this system gives of Grod ; and by thus smothering 
their just abhorrence, they gradually extinguish it, and even 
come to vindicate in Grod what would disgrace his creatures." 

Just befiare the paragraph now presented, you say of Mr. 
Fellowes' work, that ^* it expresses strongly and without cir- 
cumlocution, tiie abliorrence with which evert mindy uncor^ 
rupted by false theology, must look on Calvinism." 

Yet those who abandon Calvinism, with all these awful 
severities and horrible absurdities, and prefer to adopt the 

5 



34 

^stem in a somewhat modified or milder form, you represent, 
a few pages ODward (p. 220), a» coicartlt aod degenerate. 
least you say, that " if the stem reformer of Geneva could 
lift up his head" and hear llieir mitigated tone, he would caJH 
them so, and he would tell them that " moderate CalfiniEm is 
a solecism, a contradictioa ui terms ;" by all nliich 1 uoder- 
stand you pialaly to ' s profess to be modtratt 

Calvinisls, are justly iitation of eowardUe. 

On page 221, afte Westminster Assembly's 

Catechism and Coj "A mail of plain :>eiise, 

whose spirit has di this creed hy education 

or terror, will thi jssiiry for us lo travel to 

heathen countries, U nfully the human mind 

may misrepresent th her words, the religious 

creeds of the heathen nore striking misrepre- 

sentations of the Deity, than the Assembly's Catechism and 
Confession. 

On page 402, you represent Trinitarians as ' having no right 
to object to the picture and symbol worship of the Roman 
Cadiolics. If Christ is God, and has a body, that body may 
as well be pictured as any other one ; and there can be no 
rational objection to making use of this picture in our worship.' 

On page 405, you aver that " Trinitarianism is a riddle ;" 
that " instead of teaching an intelligible God, it offers to the 
mind a strange compound of hostile attributes, hearing plain 
marka of those ages of darkness, when Christianity shed but 
a faint ray, and the diseased fancy teemed with prodigies 
and unnatural creations." 

On page 409 you say ; " We look with horror and grief on 
the views of God's government, which are naturally and inti- 
mately united with Trinitarianism. They take from us our 
Father in heaven, and substitute a stem and unjust lord." 

On page 415, you admit that there are some great minds 
among the adherents of the prevalent system [of Oilhodoxy] ; 
" but," you add, " they seem lo move in chains, and to fulfil 



35 

poorly their high function of adding to the wealth of the hu- 
man intellect ;" and you then liken theifi to Samson grinding 
in the mill of the Philistines. 

On page 423, you say that if you believed what Trinitari- 
ans teach in regard to sin, you should " feel yourself living 
under a legislation unspeakably dreadful, under laws written, 
like Draco's, in blood ; and instead of thanking the sovereign 
for providing an infinite substitute, you should shudder at the 
attributes which render this expedient necessary." 

On page 428 you say; "According to these principles 
[viz. those of Trinitarianism], the fanatic who exclaimed, I 
bdievej becaum it is impossible^ has a fair title to canoniza- 
tion." "Trinitarianism links itself with several degrading 
errors ; and its most natural alliance is with Calvinism, "that 
cruel faith, which, stripping God of mercy and man of power, 
has made Christianity an instrument of torture to the timid, 
and an object of doubt or scorn to hardier spirits. I repeat 
it, a doctrine, which violates reason like the Trinity," etc. 

On page 557 you say ; " Nothing is plainer, than that the 
leaders of the party caUed * Orthodox,* have adopted and 
mean to enforce a system of exclusion^ in regard to Liberal 
Christians." 

On page 556, the Orthodox are represented as having 
fallen into some of " the grossest errors." 

On page 561, the Orthodox are represented as menacbg 
with ruin the Christian who listens to Unitarians, and as 
branding him with the most terrifying epithets in order to 
prevent a candid inquiry into the truth. 

On page 568 you assert, that " it is a melancholy factj that 
our long established form of Congregational church govern- 
ment is menaced, and tribunals unknown to our churches, — 
are to be introduced for the very purpose, that the supposed 
errors and mistakes of ministers and private Christians may 
be tried and punished as heresies ; that is, as crimes." 

But where shall I end in making extracts of such a nature, 
when all of these have been taken &om ^\^^ ^ot\. ^^^^^"^ *^^ 



m 

jrour book ; and in these I have omitted as much as 1 hare 
extracted that is oS the like nature ? I conclude the whole 
task of extracting, by presenting one specimen more of the 
manner in which you treat that doctrine which of all that is 
peculiar to the gospel, die Ordiodox deem the most dear and 
sacred ; 1 mean the doctrine of Atonement by the sufiering 
and death of Christ upon the cross. It is thus dial you speak 
of this part of our faidi. 

"This doclrine of an [oliDde substitute, auReHng the pennlly of sin. to 
OHuiTeit God's wralh against tin, and thus la aupport hii govemmenl, ii, I 
Hear, so ramiliar ti> u< all, that iu severe cliBrsrier is overlaoketl. Let a* 
tben set it before you, jn uew iDrms, and by a new IDuxtralion ; and if in M 
dotng, I may wound the Tcellngg of Bome who hear me, I bog Ihem Id beHeve, 
that 1 da it irilb paia, and rrom do impulse but ■ desire la serve the cause of 
truth. — Suppose, Ihcn. that a teacher should rame among you, and ahouU 
tell you, IhHt the Creator, in order to pardon his own children, had erected k 
fallows In the cenlro of the universe, and had publidy executed Upon II, la 
roam or the aflenders. an Inliiiite being, the partaker a( his onn Suprema 
Divinily ; suppose him la declare, that this execution was appointed, » a 
mo9C conipicuDus and Lerrible mamreslBlioa of God's justice, and of the infi< 
nlle -wo denounced by his law ; and suppose him to add, that all beings to 
bcoea *ad earth are required to fix their eyes on this fearful sight, ts tbs 
mosi powerful enforcement of obedience and virtue. Would you not tel) 
falm, that he calumaiatcd his Maker? Would you not say to him, that Ihli 
eenlral gallows threw gloom over the universe ; thai the spirit of a govern- 
ment, whose lery acts of pardon were wrillen in such blood, was terror, not 
pttsraal lave ; and that the obedience, which needed to be upheld by this 
horrid spectacle, was nothing worth ! Would you not lay to him, that even 
you, in this infancy and imperfBClion of your being, were capable of being 
wrought upon by nobler moiives, and of hating sin through more generous 
views ; and that much more the angels, those pure flames of love, need not 
(he gallons and an cxecule(t God, to coiiliriD their loyalty ! Vou Would all 
■o feel at such leaching as 1 have supposed ; and yet how does this diflTer 
from the popular doctrine of atonement !" pp. 423, 424. 

On diis last extract I deem all comment superfluous. The 
lioly aposlle who asserts that Christ has redeemed the church 
by his blood ; who was " determined not to preach ang thing 
else save Jesus Christ and him crucified ;" who *^gloried 
in nothing save in the cross of Christ ;" and die redeemed 
in heaven who ascribe salvation to his blood, may stand as 
arbiters to decide on such an awful paragraph. 



37 

And now, my dear Sir, I come to the main object of this 
letter. I have endeavored to prepare the way, and come at 
last to the principal thmg in view ; with great reluctance, in- 
deed, but still with deep conviction that duty bids me do it. 
I have complamed that you have uttered frequent and severe 
accusations against us, who belong to the denomination of the 
Orthodox. I have shown the ground of my complamt. 
Permit me tlien to add to what I have said, by making what 
I deem a reasonable and proper and Christian request of you. 

You have given your name to the world as the author of 
accusations, that we are aiming to subvert and destroy the 
religious liberty of this Commonwealth ; that we are com- 
bined to put dovm aU free inquiry in matters of religion ; 
that we are endeavoring^ in secret and openly ^ to introduce 
an ecclesiastical tyranny worse than that of the Inquisition ; 
that we are determined to raise up eeclesiiutical Courts to 
try, condemn, and punish all whom we deem to be heretics ; 
and thus to prevent all right of private judgment, and all 
freedom in respect to religious opinion. 

I have openly avowed in this letter my own opinion, and 
what I know to be the opinion of the Christian brethren with 
whom I have the honor to be associated, in relation to these 
subjects. I know that what I have said is incapable of being 
contradicted, on any grounds of evidence. I do know that 
the auusations which you stand pledged to support are 
NOT TRUE. / aver that THEY ARE NOT, before 
heaven and earth. That they are accusations of a hurtful 
tendency, need not be said. They go to destroy all respect 
for us, all confidence in us, all prospects of our usefubess 
in society or in the church, just so far as you are believed ; 
and to render us the objects of suspicion, of scorn, and of 
hatred. As injured men, as injured in a manner that is 
highly unjust and cruel, we call on you either for reparation, 
or else to support your charges. These charges are allegW' 
tions as to matters of tact. They are not matters of opinion 
merely, or the deductions which may be drawn from opinions. 



38 

As iiinliers of fact, you are bound to support them. Accord- 
ing lo all demands of propriety and justice, you have no 
libeiiy now to retreat, by proiessing disdain of your oppo- 
nenia ; none to screen yourself under the atlegatioo, (as you 
have attempted in llie preface to your Works to do), (hat 
you dislike controversy. On every ground of equity, you 
either support the charg 



facts ; or take ilieni back ; or 

one wlio has abused 

bers of the same Ci 

leges with liimself 

shall be Epoken of 

not be violated witiit 

Sir, we have bo 
so long that not a i 
silence gives consent 



you have made, as to 
nd before the public as 
lis fellow beings, mem- 
vc tied 10 tlie same privi- 

^ht to claims tliai they 
ire; A rij;iit wliich can- 
fsno for so doing. 

I silence long enough— 
'nds hcpn to aver, lliat 
the truth of them. You have re- 
peated iliem so often and for such a series of years, witliout 
being called in question in some important respects for so 
doing, diat you seem of late to have considered the right of 
doing it as a matter quite beyond the reach of debate. You 
do not seem to expect, diat the objects of your vehement 
and scornful denunciation, would venture to resist or even 
to complain. Like those subdued by the irresistible power 
of the great Assyrian King, "not a bird would move the 
wing, or open the mouth, or peep." But if you have be- 
lieved this respecting us, you have erred, at least in one 
point, with regard to your views of the Orthodox. We have 
not been cowering with fear ; we have " held our peace for 
good." We acknowledge, indeed, tliat when " we have 
meditated on some of these things, the fire has burned 
withiu us." But if we have been trespassers in this respect, 
kindly put it to the score of human infirmity. After all, how- 
ever, there are times when it becomes a duty to call on those 
who assail us with bitter reproaches, who endeavor to hold 
us up to the scorn and ridicule of the world, who accuse us 
of crimes which in foro contdentue would be properlj 



38 

adjudged to be high treason against the religious liberties of 
this Commonwealth^ so long as we profess to be citizens of 
it, and have sworn to maintain its constitution and its rights. 
There are boundaries beyond which it is not the duty of the 
peaceable and the inoffensive to go, in tolerating abuse of 
this nature witliout demanding a reparation. We have come 
to those bounds. We allege before the world that we have 
been slandered and abused by your writings ; we appeal to 
the particulars ; we offer the evidence ; and we now appeal 
to every honest and candid man of any party, to judge 
whether we have not supported our charge, that you have 
made and often repeated such accusations against us. 

If now you can establish the facts which you have alleged, 
and which go to make up the charges in question, in respect 
to the Orthodox as a body in this Commonwealth, confession 
and humiliation in this whole affair undoubtedly wiU belong 
to us. If you cannot prove it of the whole^ then the sweep- 
ing accusations which you have made are to be modified, 
greatly modified. If you can prove it only of a few solitary 
individuals, called by the name of Orthodox, but who in fact 
are extravagant and reckless men, this will be little to your 
purpose, and nothing to ours. We wash our hands of such 
ortliodoxy. Our orthodoxy bids us to be peaceable mem- 
bers of the State, true friends of our government, advocates 
of religious liberty even at the peril of life and property, and 
of this too in its highest and most extensive rational sense. 
We are CongregationalistSj as we profess to be. We have no 
prejudices, indeed, against the Presbyterian or other forms 
of church government, which our brethren of Orthodox de- 
nominations in this Commonwealth or in any part of our 
country see fit to adopt. It. is our belief that the gospel 
has not prescribed exclusively any particular form of church 
government ; but that this is left to expediency as times and 
circumstances may require. Nor are those who may differ 
from ourselves in respect to the regimen of the churches, 
therefore to be involved any more than we, in the charges 



i 



40 

which you have preferred against the Orthodox. They have 
DO such objects in view, as you charge upon us all ; and they 
would not only disctalm them, but contend most streauously 
against them. 

But in respect to such of us as profess to be Congrega^ 
tionalisis, neither yourself nor any man on earth, has a right to 
deny tliat we are sin ession. How then c 

we have it in view ii istical judicatorxti and 

courts which are h heretics as crimimtlii 

Why Sir, the sugg liing among Congrega- 

tionaliats, is just as under the preaeut fonn 

of our government u lat day is appointed for 

the coronation of thi i the fact that you evta 

suggest such a th that you regard us 8 

hypocrites in profet i gaiionalists ; or — shall 

I say it — that you make assertions of this nature, without 
even knowing what Congregationalism admits or rejects. 

My belief is, that you cannot make your charges good, 
against any man in this State who bears the name of Ortho- 
dox. Still I must be understood as asserting no farther than 
I have evidence before me. In regard to that class of the 
Orthodox at which you have aimed your accusations, I fear- 
lessly assert that you cannot possibly make them good. Aad 
in this class, I would comprehend laymen as well as clergy- 
men. I have the pleasure of a personal acquaintance some- 
what extensive, among the men who are active in promoting 
the interests of Orthodoxy in Massachusetts. I know that 
you have wronged them in your charges, and that you are 
utterly unable to support these charges. 

You will ask me, perhaps, why 1 should select you as the 
object of this call and of this complaint. My answer is ready. 
You have been ingenuous enough to give your name to the 
world, as a pledge that you will support the charges which 
you have made. I commend you most sincerely for this. It 
is a pledge, that you do not mean to act in the dark, and that 
you are not afraid to take o& ''foa i^ t«e.yst:uhtlity of what 



41 

you affirm. I regard it also as a satisfactory testimonial, that 
you believe in the truth of what you have alleged. I would 
not for a moment have it understood, that in denying the 
charges which you have brought, I mean to implicate you in 
the charge of uttering intentional falsehood. Sir, I know of 
nothbg in your life or writmgs, much as I dissent from many 
things which you have said, that would justify me in making 
such an assertion. I should deem it inexcusable in myself, 
not to explain what I say m such a manner, that I shall not 
be imderstood by any one, as making an allegation of this 
nature against you ; nor will I allow the objection to be made 
to me, that I have assailed you with such a complaint. But 
this does not make our case any better, but rather the worse. 
The openness and sincerity with which you proclaim your 
opinions, are the very means of making them current wiA 
such a part of the public as have no personal acquaintance 
with our views and feelings and motives. If it were known, 
or even suspected, that you made such charges as a niere 
party fetch, the mischief of them would at once be prevented. 
But now, you do the thing with so much openness, and zeal, 
and sincerity ; and withal hold such a rank in the opinion of 
the public as to uprightness, and veracity, and candor ; that 
the allegations which you make that are erroneous, becoioe 
dangerous and injurious ones. The fact that you are sincere 
in making them, then, is no reason why we who ane ex- 
posed to bjury by them, should not insist that they must be 
either made good or retracted. It furnishes the weightier 
reason why we should do so. And the fact that you have 
given your name to the world, is a public pledge that ydu 
stand ready to support them. You cannot complain then that 
we make the call on you to do this. 

As to the anonywious accusations which are a thousand 
times repeated, from the more stately Review down to '"the 
insignificant newspaper and two-penny pamphlet, we have 
more important concerns in which we ought to be engaged 

6 



42 1 

than in answering them. Al all events, I shall never iroublel 
them with any calJs of this nature. m 

One other reason 1 would assign, why I have made W9 
call on you to support the accusations which you have madM 
against us. It is this, viz. ihat if we arc to give credence ttl 
die testimony of your friends, you are the head or leader OfB 
the Unitarian pai'iy b diis State. So the partial friend, wtMkI 
has recently made your defence against the criticisms of thai 
Edinburgh Review, has slated to the world. " Dr. Cha*»J 
ning, as our readers are generally aware, it the aeJcnowUdgMM 
leader of the Unitarian sect, as far as there can be leaden^ 
etc." North Amor. Review, July 1830. p. 46. TakisM 
this statement (which has often before been virtually madl^fi 
to be correct, and knowing that what you say and publish fcl 
reechoed, and republished, and applauded so often and ts'4 
such a wide extent, we have a right to rerjuejt, nay to d^ 
mand from you tlie reason, why you endeavor so extensively 
to injure us and to bring us into suspicion, or into coniempi 
and hatred. 

What sort of Impression you make on your admirers, -i 
sufficiently evident from another passage on the same page S 
the N. Amer. Review which I have quoicd. The ' 
there says ; " Dr. Channing has no doubt vniformly obttrvi 
the decorum, which belongs lo his character and feelings, I 
well as to his position, and has treated his opponents wiAM 
PERFECT LIBERALITY." p. 46. Who the writer of diis Heriewl 
is, 1 know not. He is evidently a man of talents Hnd know- 
ledge, and no more prejudiced, I presume, against the Ortho- 
dox, than many others, who, like himself, know nothing about 
them. He receives with implicit belief what you say respect- 
ing them. He even commends you for "perfect liberality" 
towards them. As a matter of common justice lo his fellow 
citizens, we have a right now to solicit, that he would penisa J 
the evidence collected in liiis letter of your " perfect hberal-M 
i^ and decorum j" then to put himself for a moment in 




43 

condition, and ask, Whether this is the measure of " decorum 
and liberality " which he would like to have exercised towards 
himself? The complaints which he makes of the British 
Reviews, and makes with great justice and force too, as to 
not a few things, have respect to mere trifles compared with 
those things of which we feel compelled to make complaint 
against you. 

In the general tenor of his remarks, by way of vindicating 
your works against the criticisms of the Edinburgh Reviewfer, 
I concur. The flippant impudence, (if I may venture to 
speak what I feel), the superficial criticism, the illiberal spirit, 
and the palpable mistakes in literary taste and judgment, 
which the Scotch Reviewer seems to me to betray, hardly 
render his work worth the notice bestowed upon it in our own 
much more abk and respectable Review. I have no sympa- 
thies with such foreign criticism ; no blindness, I trust, to the 
merits and excellencies of your writings in many important 
respects. I could almost say, "Ubi bene, nemo melius." 
Indeed, I do fully and heartily say this, of a great many pas- 
sages in them. I have as much satisfaction in the claims of 
America to notice, \ti consequence of your writings, as the 
Reviewer himself. But then, I have complaints to make 
which he has either wholly overlooked, or which he is not 
disposed to acknowledge as weU founded. He will pardon 
me for thus criticising on his criticism^ and believe me when 
I say of the North American as a whole, JSTon invideo^ 
miror magis. I could even add, on account of some of the 
pieces in this work, / nostrum decus. 

But to return ; the mischief of which we complain, in con- 
sequence of lending your name to sanction accusations against 
us, does not stop withm the narrow circle of Massachusetts. 
For example; the editor of the American Quarterly and 
JVational Gazette^ has every now and then retailed, secretly 
or openly, accusations against " the higots*^ of the North, 
which are copied from you, or echoed in the spirit fostered 
by reading your works. It comes, however, not with a very 



good grace from him. If lie is a true son of the Romtsh 
Church to which he professes to belong, il is indeed " passing 
strange" that he should rail at the bigotry of us Protestants 
and Puritans. A man who professes to believe in the infalli- 
bility of the Pope, in the real presence of Ciirist's body and 
blood in the sacrament, in purgatory, in tlie plena indulgentia 
which is to be purchased for a few pence and which stands 
advertised on the conspicuous places of the eternal City; 
who of course, if he is sincere in all this, must, on the sams 
autliority, believe equally in the relics of tlie cross, in tha 
transportation by angels of tlie chapel of my Lady oi Lioretio, 
and in the miraculous liquefaction of the blood of St. Janua- 
rious, with a multitude of other Uiings of the like nature ; and 
who, as a true son of tlie same church, must bow with cheer- 
ful acquiescence in the Bull of tbe laie Pius at Rome, the 
" Vicar of God and successor of St. Peter," dated Aug. 7, 
1814, which after tlie Jesuits had been suppressed for 40. 
years by anotlier infallible Pontiff, not only restores them to. 
all their rights and privileges, but declares, that " if any one 
shall infringe, or by an audacious temerity oppose any pan of 
this ordinance [the Bull in question], let him knmv that he 
will thereby incur the indignation of ALMIGHTY GOD, 
and of the HOLY APOSTLES PETER AND PAUL"— 
I say a man who sincerely believes all this, is not altogether 
the right man to rail at tlie bigotry of Oriliodox Congrega- 
lionalists in Ma ssaciiu setts. And if he be not sincere in bis 
profession of being a genuine and dutiful Son of \m mother 
Church, but professes to be what be is not, then his sneers op 
his scoffs are matters which, without any very strenuous e^rt, 
we can make up our minds to endure. 

And now, my dear Sir, can you believe me, when I de- 
clare, that in all which I have said above, 1 have no pertomll 
aim at you } It is true, that I have called on you personally f 
for how could I possibly avoid this, when my whole letter is 
concerned with allegations that you have made ? But as to 
exciting a spirit of hostility or bitterness against you as a 



4d 

man, I disclaim openly any such intention ; it would be un- 
worthy of the cause which I profess to advocate ; it would be 
unbecoming my place, or the character which I would wish 
to bear. Is there no separation that can be made by our 
pubUc, between calling in question allegations and charges, 
and personal malignity towards those who make them ? I 
trust there is ; at least, in my own case, I certainly hope 
there is. I am not behind some of your more sober and 
judicious friends, in my approbation and admiration of many 
things in your writings. In all your and my personal inter- 
course, on the occasion of a discussion some years since, I 
had no personal reasons to complain of you. I would hope 
that you can say the same of me. I am sure that I bear you 
no ill will ; I am certain too, that I am very far from cherish- 
ing disrespect for your talents. I say this fully and freely, 
because I am anxious to be rightly understood. My com- 
plaint is, of the mjury which your charges are adapted to do 
us ; of what I beUeve to be utterly imfounded allegations 
against our character and designs ; of being held up by you 
to the public, as conspirators against its sacred liberties* 
Justice, truth, a proper regard to our good name and useful- 
ness, all demand that the charges against us should be exam- 
ined, and that they should either be substantiated or retracted. 

I could wish the caU on you to do this had fallen into better 
hands than mine. But as the unpleasant task has not to my 
knowledge been undertaken, I have ventured upon it through 
a sense of duty. I can only appeal to tlie good sense, and 
equity, and candor of the community, for a justification of my 
course. K these condemn me, then let me stand condemned. 
If not, then I shall at least have the satisfaction of believing 
that what I have done may contribute to bring more into the 
light certain matters, which it has now become high time our 
community should more fully understand. 

Allow me in closing this communication, (already pro- 
tracted far beyond my original intention), to say a few things 
in reference to the great contest which is going on between 



Uuitarianism and Orthodoxy in this part of our country. 
Tour place as the leader of the Unitarian party, (you will 
pardon me for saying this which I copy from your friends), 
renders it of some importance, that you should he possessed' 
of just and definite views in regard to some great points of 
deep coDviciion and feeling among us. We have no secrets 
to keep in relation to tliese matters ; and tlierefore I will 
frankly state them. 

First of all we do sincerely believe in the great Protestant 
maxim, that the Scriptures Att£ the SUFFICIENT 
ASD ONLY Rule of faith and practice. We do not 
regard them as a secondary and inferior or mere supple- 
mentary edition of die laws of nature. What they reveal, 
we take as our creed, our onl^ creed. We do not reject the 
use of symbols of faith and catechisois ; but we assign do 
authority or validity to them any farther than as we believe 
them (0 be a true representation of God's Word. In heart 
and soul we agree with die great doctrinti of liie Reformers, 
of Calvin and Luther. We do so because we believe them 
lo be contained in the Bible, not because we rely at all on 
any authority of these great men. But we do not hold 
ourselves bound lo defend die same doctrines w^iich they 
embraced, by the same specific reasons in all cases which 
they employed in defending them. We have no scruple ia 
rejecting some of their reasons, and of employing better ones 
when we can find them. Neither do we feel bound to their 
technology or diction in all cases. Much of diis depended 
on die logic of die day, on the metaphysics of the schools, 
and on the stale of questions controverted between them and 
the Romanists. The key to many a proposition in their 
writings, is to be found only by knowmg against what errors 
these propositions were directed; a truUi almost entirely 
overlooked by the greater part of their opponents at the 
present time ; hut one which is so obvious, that the overlook- 
BQg it is well nigh inexcusable. Many an assertion in their 
writings, which is now brouglit forward as unjust and " tnon- 




47 

strous and horrible,'^ melts down into plain and simple truth 
that every rational Protestant must own, when examined with 
the caution that I have suggested, and which a common share 
of candor demands should be exercised. 

We are Calvinists, if you please to call us so, although we 
do not court the name. Nor do we refuse it, if it seem good 
to our opponents to bestow it. But we do not receive every 
thing which Calvin taught ; nor any thing because he taught 
it. We hold ourselves at liberty, and that without being 
justly subjected to the charge of " disingenuousness and 
cowardice," to reject some things which seem to us quite 
unimportant in the system of the Reformers; and to reject 
their reasons in support of other things which we receive, 
just so often as we find them, on examination, turn out to be 
insufficient. 

We say the same things in respect to our Pilgrim Fathers. 
We mean to be their " sons in faith," as we are their sons by 
descent. But this binds us not to all their modes of reason- 
ing, nor to all their views in respect to matters not essential 
to the existence and prosperity of true Christianity. 

Having adopted these principles, not from tradition, not 
from catechisms and creeds, not from " the fear of what is 
worse than the fetters and dungeons of the Inquisition," but 
from what we believe to be calm and dispassionate inquiry 
into the Scriptures, from what we know to be long-continued 
and diligent investigation of them, we have made up our 
minds to stand fast in the liberty wherewith we believe Christ 
has made us free, in maintaining the system of doctrine which 
is denominated Evangelical or Orthodox. This indeed is 
very diverse, in not a few important respects, from what yoji 
and some of your friends represent it to be. Some years 
since, my respected friend and colleague, the Rev. Dr. 
Woods, brought forward against you the allegation of mis- 
representing our doctrines, and called on you to make good 
the charge, or to retract it. Of this call, for reasons best 
known to yourself, you thought proper to take no notice. 



48 

Yet the call must, on all bands, be admilled to be jusl and 
proper. You recently tell us in your preface, that your rea- 
sons for not answering such calls were, tlial you inigbt not 
be involved in personal controversy ; tliat you must have i 
"spoken with great freedom," and "set down aa a grave 
moral offence, the dis ingenuousness so common at ilie present 
day, which, under pretence of maintaining old opinions, so 
disguises and discolors them, that they can with difficult be 
• recognized." But if such be the fact in regard to your 
opponents, why not prove this to the world, by adducing 
legitimate and satisfactory evidence ? In such an age kdA 
Buch a country as ours, where every thing may be and must 
be exambed, it is presuming pretty largely on tlie public 
credulity, to snppose tliat assertions will stand for arguments, 
and high and exasperated denunciation, for patient labor 
of investigating and proving in detail. It is what neither 
yourself, nor any other man in America, has any right. to i 
claim or expecL 

But besides those doctrines of the Orthodox which hn-a ] 
been misrepresented and misunderstood, tliere are others, o 
doubt, which are opposed and denied in tlie very respects in 
which we beUeve them to be true. 

I proceed, however, with iny remarks of a more general 
nature. In the present state of conviction and feeling a 
the Orthodox, which results Iroin examination and full per- 
suasion, it cannot be rationally expected, tliat we should 
accede to every contradiction of our pi-inciples, or succumb 
to every tempest that assaults us. There w ime woj, »md 
one only, to anmkilate all the Ortltodoxt) of the State ; and 
thia is, to show by thefnir and estaiilithed laws of itUerpr^ 
tation, that the Bible does not support t(. All else will fail 
of its end. We do in good faith believe that die Bible is the 
word of God ; and that it Is our supreme, aitthoritative, inTal- 
hble, and only guide. We cannot be convinced, therefore, 
that it is our duty to relinquish what we regard as its plain 
and unetiuivocal decisions, in order to embrace wbal we 





49 

regard as ibe speciilaiioos of men, and the maxims of fash- 
ionable philosophy. We do not concede the propriety of 
aliowiag a priori notions and assertions, to take the place of 
what the sacred writers have decided. We are not acquainted 
with any man, whose word is law or gospel to us. We would 
receive no apothegms, because they are asserted with an air 
of confidence, and in glowing and vehement language, or in 
eloquent strains. A man to enjoy our religious confidence, 
must give some good evidence that he loves, and reverences, 
and has deeply studied his Bible. We submit impHchly to 
Paul, and Peter, and others like them ; but in all other cases, i 
we stop to ask the why and tlie leherefoTe. I 

Sir, you have mistaken the orthodox community of Massa- 
chusetts. They care as little for bringing in the dark ages 
as you do. They are a great deal farther from commending 
the faith of those who are laboring to extend the superstitions 
of Rome in our community ilian yourself, if the softeneil 
tones in which you speak of the advocates of these supersti- 
tions, are to be taken as the index of your feelings. 

Nor are the Orthodox to be diverted from their purpose, 
by language of severe reproach and unmeasured indignation. 
The sons of those, who left country and kindred to brave the 
storms of tlie ocean in frail barks, to face the gloomy horrors 
of llie wintry blasts and storms in a savage land and in a 
boundless forest, and who did all this cheerfully that they 
might hold fast their orthodox faith, and worship God ac- 
cording to it — the sons of such men, holding to ihe same 
principles, and believing tliem to be the only foundation of 
their eternal hopes — are not to be diverted from then- course 
by obloquy and denunciation, however eloquent and severe. 
With them, religion is all. The world and all its concerns 
vanish into insignificance, when it comes into comparison 
with tlie " glory that is to be revealed." It cannot be 
expected, llien, if they are In any measure what they profess 
to be, tiiat tliey should he overawed or daunted by denuncia- 
tion or opposition. No Sir ; these will not accomplish ihe 

■> i 



60 

purpose at which they aim. It is not that the Orthodox are 
insensible to what their fellow beings think and say of them. 
Far from this. There is much more sensibility among them 
on this subject than I could wish. I cannot withhold my 
hearty commendation, however, of very many of them, for 
checking these feelings, and putting restraint upon them. But 
still, they know when they are mal-treated. They know when 
their rights are denied under cover of law ; when they are 
excluded from the literary and civil privileges and offices of 
the State ; when they are jeered at in private circles, and 
pomted at with the finger of scorn in public. With all this 
they have borne, and borne long ; I do not say that they have 
always done this with such patience and meekness as became 
them. I am afraid that this is not the case. But depend on 
it. Sir, there is a secret flame kindled in this Commonwealth, 
by such measures as I have named above on your part and 
tliat of your friends, which, though smothered long, cannot 
always be smothered. Justice, and fairness, and equality of 
rights, must at last become the order of the day. Well will 
it be for tlie peace of this community, if the season when this 
shall take place should not be long protracted. There is 
always danger in a smothered sense of injustice and oppres- 
sion ; above all when this is the fact with respect to great 
numbers who belong to the leading class of men in the com- 
munity ; danger to those who feel it, as well as to others. 
May heaven avert its consequences from our beloved Com- 
monwealth ! 

I shall be entirely misunderstood, if I am supposed to utter 
tliese things in terrorem. I know well that our opponents 
are not men to be influenced in this way. It is the last 
method that I should adopt, in order to influence them. I 
say these things merely as one who loves his country and his 
Commonwealth, and tlie happy forni of government under 
which he lives, and who fears the consequences of any thing 
which may have a tendency to disturb our peace. But the 
time has come, when the whole truth should be openly told. 



61 

Depend on it, Sir, there is a smothered sense of deep injury 
among the Orthodox, both of civil and religious injury, which 
needs to be allayed by a return to tlie principles of justice, 
and equal rights, and kind discussion, on the part of those 
who are striving to crush them. We look to Switzerland ; 
we see the wandering exile pastors there thrust out from their 
country, or languishing in dungeons, and their families beg- 
ging their bread, because these dauntless heralds of salvation 
have dared to preach Christ and him crucified. We cannot 
help knowing that Unitarianism has done this ; and conse- 
quently we are slow to receive professions of liberality ^ as 
certain evidence of its existence. We fear that there are not 
wanting in our own State, some who would not scruple to 
walk in the steps of their Liberal Brethren abroad ; some 
whose standing argument against our principles is, that Calvin 
]}umed Servetus ; but who unluckily have never read the 
ecclesiastical history of Geneva in the nineteenth century. 
Far, very far, are we from reproaching the Unitarians as a 
body, in our State, with such views and wishes. On the 
contrary, we do verily believe that a few of the more intole- 
rant among them, are altogether deceived as to the feelings 
of their brethren. We do not believe that the majority are 
prepared for those ultra measures, to which they are occa- 
sionally urged. They would abhor the idea of oppressing 
and abusing us, would they but candidly and patiently exam- 
ine the whole matter. We must still hope that they will do 
this, before they proceed to further measures ; and that after 
all, the present appearances in our State, which are porten- 
tous of storm and tempest, will be dissipated, and unclouded 
sunshine follow. At least we hope tliis. And that this great 
end may be accomplished, we would earnestly beseech all 
who love the peace and prosperity of society and the church, 
to direct their fervent unceasing supplications to Him, who 
" maketh the winds and the waves to obey his voice," who is 
'< King of kings and Lord of lords," who is " seated at the 



62 

right hand of the Majesty on high,'* and is GOD OVER 

ALL AND BLESSED FOREVER. 

I am, my dear Sir, notwithstanding my difference of senti- 
ment and feeling, with much respect, and with the most sin- 
cere wishes for your happmess in time and eternity, 

Your friend and obedient servant, 

MOSES STUART. 

Andovevy Jutt/j 1830. 



