Transcribed from the 1862 Wertheim, Macintosh and Hunt edition by David
Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org





                                 THOUGHTS
                                    ON
                              A REVELATION.


                                    BY
                           S. J. JERRAM, M.A.,
                        VICAR OF CHOBHAM, SURREY.

                                * * * * *

                                 LONDON:
                      WERTHEIM, MACINTOSH AND HUNT,
                           24, PATERNOSTER ROW,
                 AND 23, HOLLES STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE.

                                  1862.




ABSTRACT OF CONTENTS.

                                                                 PAGE.

Introductory: proposed mode of treating the subject                1–4
1.—Knowledge of God needful                                          4
   ,, ,, ,, cannot be obtained by direct perception of               5
      God
   ,, ,, ,, cannot be obtained, to a sufficient extent,              6
      by exercise of natural faculties
   ,, ,, ,, cannot be obtained by any implanted idea                 6
   ,, ,, ,, therefore must be revealed                               8
   Objection arising from non-universality of a                      8
      Revelation answered
2.—Conditions under which a Revelation may be expected to            9
      be _given_
   Revelation must have a distinctive character                      9
   ,, ,, ,, must be authenticated to original recipients            10
   ,, ,, ,, cannot convey a perfect knowledge of God                12
   ,, ,, ,, must be limited by the object designed                  12
   ,, ,, ,, must be limited also by the state of                    14
      knowledge existing at the time when made
   ,, ,, ,, must be, in some degree, phenomenal                     15
   Such a Revelation appears to be the only one in                  16
      accordance with man’s position, and also adequate
   Words as a medium of Revelation must be limited by               18
      ideas already existing, which ideas are also limited by
      experience
   Anthropomorphic notions of God; the Infinite and                 19
      Absolute
   Ideas as a medium of Revelation; ideas and perceptions           20
      distinguished, etc.
   Perception as a medium of Revelation; not in itself              22
      adequate
3.—Conditions under which a Revelation may be expected to           26
      be _recorded_, etc.
   Exact verbal record considered; difference of                    26
      languages, etc.
   Distinction drawn as to meaning of “exact verbal                 29
      record”
   Divine and human elements in a Revelation; variety of            29
      style, etc.
   Considerations as to the precise manner of recording a           31
      Revelation
4.—Conditions under which a Revelation may be expected to           32
      be _transmitted_
5.—Some considerations as to the conditions under which a           34
      professed Revelation may be properly _accepted_
   Evidence to contemporaries: miracles, doctrines, etc.            34
   Evidence to others                                               37
   Observations as to believing: aid derived from others,           37
      rapidity of mental processes, intuitions
6.—Some considerations as to the Bible, as a professed              41
      Revelation
   Its pure morality, hold on public opinion, etc., mark            43
      it out as _different_ from other books
   Why a candid spirit is _especially_ needful for the              43
      study of it
   Its offer of supernatural aid considered                         45
   Its offer of supernatural aid is in accordance with              46
      the general beliefs as to Providence, and prayer



THOUGHTS ON A REVELATION.


Few persons can have observed attentively the various phases of public
opinion on religious subjects during the last twenty years or more,
without noticing a growing tendency to the accumulation of difficulties
on the subject of Revelation.  Geology, ethnology, mythical
interpretation, critical investigation, and inquiries of other kinds,
have raised their several difficulties; and, in consequence, infidels
have rejoiced, candid inquirers have been perplexed, and even those who
have held with firmness decided views on the distinctive character of the
inspiration of the Bible, have sometimes found it difficult to satisfy
their minds entirely, and to see clearly the grounds of their
conclusions.

The writer of these pages does not propose to attempt a detailed reply to
the various difficulties which have been raised.  Answers to objections
arising from the pursuit of particular sciences are most effectually
given by those, who have made those sciences their study; nor can there
be any doubt that, if the book of nature and the Bible spring from the
same source, an increasing acquaintance with both will tend to show their
harmony with each other, and to dispel the perplexities which have arisen
from an imperfect acquaintance with either of them.  It may be observed,
too, that, as it requires special knowledge on the part of a writer to
cope with special difficulties; so also does it demand acquirements, but
rarely found, on the part of the reader, to appreciate the real value,
both of the objections and answers which may be made on geological,
critical, or other special grounds.

The writer thinks that there is another method of reply—a method which
consists in giving as clear a view as can be had of the real character of
the subject against which the objections are made; and this is the kind
of answer which he proposes to attempt.  The man who has a distinct and
well defined knowledge of chemical, mathematical, or any other science,
will not be greatly perplexed with difficulties which may be brought from
other sciences, touching upon that with which he is acquainted.  The
knowledge which he possesses of his own particular science will enable
him, in some instances, to perceive at once the weakness of the
objections which are alleged; and, even when this is not the case, he
will see such an harmonious proportion subsisting between the various
parts of that branch of knowledge which he has been pursuing, and be so
strongly convinced of the certainty of it, that he will be justly
disposed to attribute to his own ignorance his inability to give
satisfactory replies to those difficulties which he cannot dispose of.
_Real_ knowledge cannot of course be overthrown; and, although it is
often difficult to decide what knowledge is of this description, the task
of arriving at a tolerably correct conclusion with regard to such
subjects as fall within the range of our faculties, must not be regarded
as an hopeless one.

When clear definitions have been given, disputants have often found that
there is no further room for discussion; and, even when this is not the
case, the force of objections can, under such circumstances, be more
accurately weighed, and the real points of attack and defence more
clearly perceived.  If a man were to say, in a mixed company, that there
was no taste in an apple, many sensible men, unacquainted with his exact
meaning, might be inclined to dispute the assertion, and to say that the
statement was contrary to common experience; but, if he explained his
meaning to be, that taste is a quality of a sentient being, and that
there is nothing in the apple of this kind, or corresponding to it,
everybody then would see the truth of his assertion, and all ground of
dispute would be removed.  We will take another case.  Those who hold
strong Protestant views frequently say, that the “religion of the Bible
is the religion of Protestants.” This, for most purposes, expresses their
meaning forcibly and well, and the mind, in practice, usually supplies
the necessary limitations.  It does not, however, always happen that
these limitations are consciously present to the mind, or that the person
who practically receives the right impression might not be greatly
puzzled by the subtle reasonings of objectors.  The _dictum_, quoted
above, does not mean, as might at first sight appear, that we are to make
use of no other means than the Bible in the investigation of Divine
truth, and that the wisdom of the present and past ages is to go for
nothing.  No one _could_ thus isolate himself from other influences; and,
if he could, it would not be _desirable_.  What is really meant is, that
all truth necessary for salvation is contained in the Bible, “so that
whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be
required of any man that it should be believed as an article of faith,”
etc.; in other words, that the Bible is the ultimate and sole standard of
appeal.  This of course may be, and is disputed; but, when the statement
is put in a clear and well defined shape, many apparent objections vanish
at once, and the real points of attack and defence are made evident.  If,
then, we can obtain ideas, on the subject of revelation, which shall be,
upon the whole, distinct, and worthy of being received as true, much will
be done to remove objections, and to satisfy a reasonable mind.

The proposed investigation will necessarily be, in some degree, of an _a
priori_ character; not, however, as we trust, so much so as to render it
vague and without practical value.  It will be _a priori_, inasmuch as it
will not assume the existence of a revelation, and then proceed to
examine its character.  This would be to beg the question at issue.  It
will not be _a priori_, so far as it consists in instituting an inquiry
into the faculties of the human mind, and their capacity to receive a
revelation; and into this it will be found that the investigation will
mainly resolve itself.

                                * * * * *

1.  We may commence our inquiry into the subject by noticing, _that a
knowledge of God_, _to be obtained in some way or other_, _seems almost
essential to the well-being of man_.  If it be granted, that there is
such a Being—and few, it is presumed, would go so far as to deny this—it
must be of great importance for us to know the relationship in which that
Being stands to us, and we to Him.  We can hardly suppose it possible
that an Infinite Being, in some sense, as we suppose will be generally
allowed, the Governor of the world, should not have an important relation
to _all_ other existences; much less, that the relation which He bears to
_man_, the most noble existence of which we have any actual experience,
should be of an insignificant character.  Looking, too, upon man as a
free and moral agent, accountable, as conscience declares, for his
actions to his fellow-men, it seems almost certain that he must be also
responsible for his acts in relation to the Deity.  The general belief of
mankind, in all ages and in all places, tends to the same conclusion;
and, if it be admitted that there is an eternal world into which the
consequences of our actions follow us, a knowledge of the relationship in
which we stand to God becomes of still greater importance.  But if this
knowledge probably may be, and, should the general belief of the world
have a foundation in fact, certainly is, of great importance, it can
hardly be supposed that a God of love would allow us to remain in
ignorance of it; and the question arises, _how it is to be obtained_.

It may be observed, first of all, that _the Deity does not_, _like other
objects_, _come within the direct cognizance of our perceptive
faculties_.  We have an organization, by means of which we are enabled to
perceive various objects around us; and, by travelling to other lands, we
can obtain a knowledge of many things of which we had before been
ignorant.  We perceive also what is going on within us.  The telescope
and the microscope reveal to us wonders which, without their
intervention, we could never have discovered.  But we cannot through the
instrumentality of any of our faculties perceive God.  Travel where we
will we cannot find Him out.  No appliance of art has availed to disclose
Him to us.  If any philosophers conceive that they can intuitively gaze
upon God, other philosophers declare their ignorance of any intuition of
this kind, and assuredly the common people, who most stand in need of
clear notions on the subject, and who would hardly be neglected by a
beneficent God, are altogether unconscious of it.  The knowledge of Him,
therefore, if obtained at all, must be had in some other way.

But may not an adequate knowledge of God be obtained _by the exercise of
the faculties of the human mind upon external nature_, _or in some other
way_?  The Apostle St. Paul says something which rather favours this
view, when he declares that “the invisible things of Him from the
creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things
that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead; so that they are
without excuse” (Rom. i. 20): and we believe that a considerable insight
into the nature of God, and the probable character of His dealings with
us may be obtained in the manner to which we have referred.  Still we
have only to look at the ever varying and degrading notions which have,
at all times, prevailed in many parts of the world respecting the Divine
Being, to perceive that a more clear method of obtaining knowledge about
Him would, to say the least of it, be a most valuable boon.  The method
under consideration has not practically issued as we might have hoped
that it would; and therefore there is reason to expect, that God might
make use of some more direct way of communicating to us a knowledge of
Himself.

Another possible mode of communicating a knowledge of God would be, _by
implanting in the mind of man_, _an idea corresponding_, _so far as might
be needful_, _to the nature of God_.  But a belief in the existence of
anything of this kind is open to several objections.  If such an idea
existed, it must, to answer the required end, be sufficiently clear and
well defined to give at least a tolerably accurate notion of the Deity,
and must also bring with it a well-grounded conviction of its
correspondence to the reality.  But the variety of opinions which have
been entertained on the subject forbid us to believe that any such idea
as this exists.  Search as far as we can into our own minds, we are
unable to discover anything approaching to such a notion of the Divinity.
It appears too, that, notwithstanding some speculations as to time and
space, which, in the opinion of some, bear a slightly exceptional
character, there is no good reason to believe that we acquire other kinds
of knowledge in the manner under consideration; and, if this be so, there
is a strong presumption against a knowledge of the Deity being obtained
in this way.

As however some confusion of mind not uncommonly prevails on this
subject, we will endeavour to explain our meaning more fully.  We
possess, as it appears to us, certain capacities for obtaining knowledge,
and for retaining, and disposing our knowledge, when obtained, in
different ways; but we are not born with the actual possession of
knowledge; nor, so far as we can see, is knowledge, at any subsequent
time, obtained by us, except by means of the capabilities to which we
have referred.  We have by nature powers of knowing objects, both
external to our organization, and internal; but the objects themselves,
and not the representations of them, are presented to us before we know
them.  We are conscious of seeing, and smelling, and tasting, and
feeling, etc.; but they are the things themselves which we see, and
smell, and taste, and feel, in the first instance, although afterwards we
are able to contemplate the representations of them which are formed in
the mind.  There is within us, no doubt, a capability of apprehending, in
a sufficient degree, the perfections of God, when they are declared to
us; but a knowledge of these perfections does not naturally exist within
us.  We conclude, then, that, as the Deity is not directly perceived by
us, has not in practice been adequately discerned by any process of the
mind, and is not made known to us by any connate, or subsequently
implanted idea, we must be indebted to revelation, in the main, for any
knowledge we may obtain respecting Him.  We do not consider it necessary
to enter into a discussion of Pantheistic views, inasmuch as we have yet
to learn that Pantheism has ever furnished any definite ideas respecting
the nature of God which will bear the test of a close examination as to
their reality.  We think, too, that it is destructive of the personality
of either God, or man, or both, and thus does away with all real relation
between the two.

Before proceeding to the investigation of what we mean by a revelation,
we will endeavour to answer an objection which may be raised.  It may be
alleged that, if a true knowledge of God is of such great consequence to
man, it appears strange that such differing opinions should have been
held on the subject, and that God’s revelation—on the supposition that
there is one—should not have been more extensively promulgated, and
declared with more irresistible evidence.  There is no doubt a difficulty
here.  It does not however attach _especially_ to the subject of a
revelation; but meets us at all points, when we consider the unequal
distribution of the blessings of nature.  Why many persons should be
destitute of the advantages which others enjoy, and why some should pass
a life of suffering, while others are surrounded with every comfort, are
questions which naturally arise in the minds of reflecting men, but which
have hitherto remained without full and satisfactory answers.  He who
would give a complete reply must have clearer views, than have yet been
obtained, with regard to the origin of evil.  It may be observed too
that, on the supposition that the Bible is a real revelation from God,
and bearing in mind the vast number of the human race to whom it has
already been given, and its capability of future communication, it far
more nearly meets the difficulty, than abstruse speculations respecting
the Deity, which can scarcely be apprehended even by philosophers, and
which are to the mass wholly unintelligible.

                                * * * * *

2.  Let us now examine _the conditions under which a revelation may be
expected to be given to the original recipients_.

It may be observed in the first place that a revelation _must possess
some distinctive character_.  Even, if it should turn out that there is
no such thing in reality at all, at least the notion which we form in our
minds must possess such points of difference as to distinguish it from
all other notions.  It appears needful to bear this in mind, obvious
though it is, because there are not a few, in the present day, who
deprive the word, revelation, of nearly all the distinguishing features
which have commonly been supposed to attach to it, and so extend the
meaning of the word inspiration as “sometimes to believe it in poets,
legislators, philosophers, and others gifted with high genius,” (Essays
and Reviews, p. 140).  What this means it is hard to say.  Shakespeare,
Milton, Newton, and others certainly did not imagine that they had direct
communication with God; that they revealed to us His nature, and the
relation in which He stands to us; predicted future events, etc., in the
same sense that Moses, David, Isaiah, and the other writers of the Bible
are supposed to have done.  If they actually did anything of this kind,
they were assuredly wholly unconscious of their power; nor, we may add,
has common opinion held that they afforded information on the same
subjects as those which the writers of the Bible handled.  Admirers of
our poets, and philosophers, have not considered it necessary to
promulgate what they have found in their writings, as matters in which
the spiritual, and, possibly, eternal interests of man are vitally
concerned; although believers in the Bible, and even in Mahomet, have
done so.  The word inspiration, in fact, as used in the passage above
quoted, involves a confusion of ideas which we should hardly have
expected to find in the writings of any one who professed to speak
accurately, and appears scarcely pardonable, or even honest, in the case
of so acute a thinker, as the late Mr. Baden Powell.  We are not now
saying that the Bible is a revelation from God, or even that there is
such a thing as a distinctive revelation at all.  All we assert is, that
the idea of such a thing is a very common one, and that it is very
different from that which is usually held with regard to the works of
Newton, Milton, and other gifted sages and philosophers.  We might add,
in passing, that, unless the Bible be an imposture—in which case it ought
to be regarded as far inferior to the works of genuine and truthful poets
and philosophers—it does correspond, as we trust will be seen, on an
examination of its contents, to the idea referred to.

Still further, revelation must not only have some distinctive character;
but, in order to be effectual for its purpose, _it should carry along
with it_, _to the original recipients_, _a reasonable conviction of its
authenticity_.  The Bible speaks of several professed modes of
communication, and accepting them according to the ordinary meaning of
words, and not in any mythical, or ideological sense, they appear to be
such as might answer for the purpose of authentication.  The Lord talked
with Abraham.  He appeared in a burning bush to Moses, spake to him and
the children of Israel on Mount Sinai, and conversed with him afterwards
on the top of that mountain, during a period of forty days.  He spake in
the night to Samuel.  He appeared in a vision to Isaiah and others.  To
some He made Himself known in dreams.  Christ spake to His disciples.
All these are evidently ways in which God might communicate with man; and
there is no difficulty in supposing that the attendant circumstances,
such for instance as some of those recorded in the Bible, might be of
such a kind as to authenticate the communication.  It would be idle to
argue that, because God does not make Himself known in any of these ways
now, He has never done so; for, to omit other considerations, we may
observe that, in accordance with the economy which prevails in the works
of God, we have no reason to suppose that He would make special
revelations to more persons than might be necessary for the purpose He
had in view.  If He revealed Himself to them, the promulgation of the
revelation would be naturally and safely left to more ordinary
instrumentality.  At the present time, so far as Christians are
concerned, they do not expect a special revelation to themselves,
because, as they believe, God has already communicated all that He
desires them to know.

But supposing a revelation to be sufficiently authenticated,—What may be
reasonably expected as to the _extent_ of it?  It is, we think, clear in
the first place that _no perfect knowledge of God and His relation to us
could be communicated_.  Even if a direct presentation of the Infinite
were given, the capacity of man could not grasp it, and therefore the
result would be a finite conception; and, if the revelation were made by
words or other signs, it is plain that these can only express the finite
ideas of which they are the symbols.

Nor is there anything in this which need excite our surprise; for the
limited nature of our knowledge with regard to God would be analogous to
that which we have about other things.  There is nothing with regard to
which our knowledge is not limited.  Some may be ready to affirm that we
do not know things in themselves at all, but only the effects produced
upon us, or their relation to us.  We are not about to maintain this
proposition; but it is at any rate plain that the most familiar objects,
as science advances, often disclose to us new qualities, and that we have
no reason to suppose that we are fully acquainted with all the qualities
of even the simplest substances.  There is no reason to expect that the
book of revelation should be more explicit than that of nature.

Not only, however, _must_ our knowledge, derived from revelation, be, in
some degree, limited; but it is not difficult to see, why _it would be
probably kept even within the range of what it is possible for us to
know_.  We can readily understand that the object of God in making a
revelation would be to inform us about those things only, a knowledge of
which might be essential to our interests; and here again the analogy of
the natural world comes in to assist us.  God has given to each existence
such qualities as are requisite for the position in which it is placed.
Ascending through the various classes of animals, we find, as we advance,
the capacities for knowledge increasing, and bearing a relation to their
actual circumstances.  The mole is not endowed with the far-seeing vision
which is essential to the well-being of the eagle: nor, on the other
hand, has the eagle the power of threading its way through the earth,
without which the mole could not exist.  Viewing man in relation to the
natural world, we find that he has the power of obtaining that kind of
knowledge which is necessary to his welfare here, although, in many
respects, he is far surpassed by the keener perceptions of the inferior
animals.  God has in fact ordered and limited his knowledge with an
express reference to the position which he is called upon to occupy.
This throws light upon the subject of revelation.  It is reasonable to
expect that God would limit the knowledge communicated in that way also,
by a consideration of the state in which man is placed here, and of that
which, upon the supposition of a future state, he is to occupy hereafter.

So far as we have yet gone, there does not appear to be any reason why
the knowledge, although limited, should not be accurate as far as it
goes.  Though we do not know all the properties of particular objects, we
may know some of them, and may also safely reason about those with which
we are acquainted, so long as we are careful not to introduce into the
reasoning anything which does not result from our actual knowledge; and
so, turning from nature to a revelation, we may learn much from it about
God, as for instance, that He is a God of love and holiness; that He will
act towards us in a particular manner; that He will punish some actions
and recompense others; and this knowledge also may be a true knowledge,
so far as it goes, and one that we may safely act upon, although we may
still be in ignorance of His exact nature and many points of our
relationship to Him.

There is, however, a light in which revelation must be viewed, which
involves considerations of a somewhat different character from those
hitherto noticed, and to this we now turn.  A revelation must not only be
limited by the extent of the human capacity for receiving it, and by the
proposed object of it, but also, in a considerable degree, by _the state
of knowledge existing in the world at the time it is made_.  In fact,
without some such limitation, it would be unintelligible, and,
consequently no revelation.  As this truth has frequently been
misapplied, we will endeavour to explain, as accurately as we can, our
meaning.  God could, perhaps, if He thought proper, give in an ignorant
age a revelation, as full and explicit, as in a more enlightened period—a
revelation we mean which should be understood—but it must be remembered
that this could only be effected by altering the conditions under which
human knowledge is acquired.  For example, to have given a correct theory
of the motions of the heavenly bodies, before the age of Newton, would
have been impossible, without an entire change both in the existing state
of knowledge, and also in the method of acquiring it.  Down to the
present time all history and experience testify to the fact that the
acquisition of knowledge is _gradual_; but such a revelation, as that to
which we have referred, would require that it should be made _per
saltum_.  If knowledge were given in this way the usual course would be
completely changed; and not only so, but the knowledge communicated would
be altogether out of proportion to that possessed on other points, and
would place those who had it in a false and unsatisfactory state with
regard to the world in which they lived.  To see this we have only to
picture to ourselves the condition of a man living in a savage, or only
partially civilized state of society, with his mind preternaturally
expanded to that of a Newton, and put into possession of the knowledge
which he had on some of those subjects which the Bible touches on.  How
entirely out of harmony would he be with his fellow-men, and everything
around him! and, how unable would he be even to pursue his studies for
want of those instruments, books, and appliances which a more advanced
state of society alone can produce!  A revelation of this kind would
clearly not be a boon, but an injury to him.  It may be observed,
moreover, that a revelation, adapted to the knowledge even of a Newton,
would neither exactly correspond with facts, nor obviate all the
difficulties which a more enlightened age might discover.  We do not stop
to dwell upon the obvious fact, that such a revelation, as that which we
have been noticing, would require not only a preternatural expansion of
faculties in the person to whom it was made, but also a similar
expansion, or, if not, a long educational process in the case of all
those who should receive it.  We conclude, then, that a revelation must
be adapted to, and in a great degree limited by, the state of knowledge
existing in the world at the time when such revelation is made.

This leads us to a consideration of the _necessarily phenomenal character
of some portions of a revelation_, respecting which objections against
the Bible have been frequently raised.  We will, to explain our views,
take as an example, the familiar instance of the sun and earth.
According to appearance the sun moves, and the earth is stationary: but
science has demonstrated that the opposite to this is the real state of
the case.  What line might it be expected that a revelation would take,
when it had to deal with a case of this kind?  Should it speak according
to appearances, or realities?  This, we believe, is the exact point to be
considered, and we do not think, when fairly put, that it is one about
which there is much difficulty.  If a revelation were given to an
ignorant people, in accordance with the reality, it is quite clear that
they would not be in a condition to receive it, and would therefore,
probably, reject it as absurd; but if the description were given
according to the appearance presented, then no difficulty would be felt.
The question, however, is pressed—whether such a mode of representation
is consistent with the truthfulness which may be expected in a
revelation.

It might, we think, be a sufficient reply to say that, as, according to
our former reasoning, it is, in many cases, the only possible mode of
revelation consistent with the established order of things, we may well
be content with it; but we will pursue the subject a little further, with
the view of making clear how the matter stands.  It may be observed that,
if absolute truth on a particular subject cannot be communicated, the
nearest approximation to it is, not only all that can be expected, but is
in itself highly desirable.  If a man is unable to receive as full an
apprehension of a thing as we have ourselves, we must endeavour to give
him the most perfect information which he is capable of receiving.  We do
not injure him by doing this, but we should injure him if we omitted to
do it.  If a man, who had lived all his life in the Arctic regions, and
had never heard of any other country, were to be brought to England, it
would not be necessary to tell him, with a view to his comfort here, the
motion of the earth with regard to the sun, and the causes of the length
of our days and nights, and of the variation of the seasons.  To enter
into these matters would confuse his mind, and the man, if he had to earn
his living, would starve while he was acquiring the knowledge of them.
By such a course of proceeding we should, in reality, do him a great
injustice.  Instead of attempting anything of the kind, we should
naturally give him such information as might be requisite for his
practical guidance, in a popular manner, and leave to himself the
acquisition of such scientific truth as he might be desirous of becoming
acquainted with.  In a word, we should describe to him things as they
appear to be, and in this respect our description would be, in a certain
sense, true; we should not describe them as they really are, and so far
our description would not be in strict accordance with the facts of the
case.  We were about to say that it is a choice of difficulties; but, is
there any real difficulty in the case?  Does not the common sense of
mankind declare that the mode of proceeding which we have described is
the only proper one, and that there is no real untruthfulness in it?  It
may be noticed too that even scientific men continually make use of it
amongst themselves, and in their intercourse with others, and this
without any charge of untruthfulness being brought against them.  What
objection then can possibly lie against the adoption of the same method
in a revelation? {17}  The supposed object of a revelation is to save the
soul, or, at least, to advance in a material degree our spiritual
interests.  Is that to be put aside till the world has learnt scientific
truth, and is able to converse in scientific language?  We feel no
difficulty in leaving the answer to this question to the common sense of
mankind in general.  We conclude, then, that as phenomenal truth is in
many cases the only truth which can possibly be afforded, and the
imparting of it is a boon, and not an injury, there is no reason why the
Deity should not, when He sees fit, make use of this mode of
communication in revelation.

We will now notice, distinctly, _words as a medium of revelation_.  It is
plain, that in communicating knowledge, they are only effectual by
calling up in the mind of the hearer ideas _already_ existing.  To speak
to a man who has been blind from his birth, of colours would be useless,
because he has had no experience of them, and consequently no ideas
corresponding to them.  Words may bring up ideas in a different
_combination_ from any which had previously existed in the mind of the
person spoken to; but they cannot _create_ ideas.  They may make the
hearer acquainted with something which he has never actually perceived;
may cause him to reason in a new manner; to see a familiar object in a
fresh light, or, in some other way, bring the faculties of the mind into
play; but still the mind, so far as instruction by words is concerned,
can only act upon its previous stores, and analyze or combine them into
new forms.  This being the case, it is clear that a revelation, so far as
it is made by words, must be limited by the ideas previously existing in
the mind of the person to whom it is made.  These ideas, too, however
numerous and refined they may be, are limited by the experience which a
man has had of the external world, and of himself.  He cannot get beyond
these.  If, then, God should think fit to reveal, in words, a knowledge
of Himself, or any other object which does not come within the direct
cognizance of our perceptive faculties, this can only be effected by
calling up in the mind, through the words, some new combination of ideas
already possessed.  This may not correspond precisely with the object,
respecting which the revelation is made; but, as it is the only way in
which a revelation by words can be effected, we have no just reason to
find fault with it.  All we have a right to expect, is that the words
should call up in the mind those ideas which best represent the object
designed to be revealed.

This may tend to throw some light upon what are called anthropomorphic
ideas of God.  These have sometimes been spoken of as inadequate, and
degrading.  Inadequate they certainly are, as every notion which we can
have of the Deity must be; but we are unable to see in what way they are
degrading.  Almost every nation, following apparently the necessity of
our nature, has clothed its gods in the objective form of some familiar
animal, or other existence, and endowed them with qualities of which they
had experience.  What wonder then if God, seeing that He must, unless the
conditions of our nature were altered, make use of ideas with which we
are already familiar, should adopt an anthropomorphic representation of
Himself, purified, exalted, and adapted, as far as possible, to His own
infinite perfections?  In fact, we know not how God could declare Himself
as just, righteous, pure, and loving, or reveal our responsibility to
Himself, without a reference to man, inasmuch as he is the only being, of
which we have any actual experience, who possesses, even in a limited
degree, qualities of such a description.  Assuredly then it cannot be a
degrading notion of the Deity to regard Him as invested with the highest
attributes of which we have a conception.  We are aware that some
philosophers talk much of the Infinite, and the Absolute, as conveying
more exalted notions of the Divine Being.  What the exact meaning of
those terms is philosophers find it difficult to declare, and the common
people are almost wholly unable to understand.  Certainly such highly
abstract terms convey little distinct meaning.  It will be found upon
examination, that the word “Infinite,” to stir in any degree the depths
of our nature, must be combined with some quality with which we are
familiar.  Infinite love, infinite justice, infinite purity, are things
which we can in some degree understand and appreciate; but the point
which we understand best is not the “Infinite,” but the finite,—the
love,—the justice,—the purity; and these are ideas taken from what we
find in some imperfect degree in ourselves.  To those who believe that
man was made “in the image of God,” and that the Word, being God, became
also man, the train of thought here indicated will come home with
additional force.

What has been said with regard to a revelation, made by words, applies,
in its main points, to a revelation made directly to the mind through
_ideas_, without the intervention of words.  To see this clearly, let us
bear in mind the distinction between a perception and an idea.  An idea
is the result of a perception.  We perceive a rose when it is presented
to our senses, and we see, smell, or touch it.  We have an idea of it,
when, not being any longer presented, we think of it, and call to mind
its qualities.  We are said to have a perception of anger, or love, or
any other emotion, when those feelings are present to the mind.  We have
ideas of them, when we think about them.  It is not our object to enter
upon any abstruse discussion as to the origin of ideas.  What has been
just advanced will be generally admitted by metaphysicians, and readily
understood by others.  Hoping, then, that the distinction between an idea
and a perception will be carried in the mind, we will proceed with our
argument.  There is no difficulty in supposing—and this, we believe,
corresponds very closely to an opinion commonly entertained respecting
inspiration—that God could, without the intervention of words, call up in
the mind such ideas as He might think fit.  For instance, instead of
speaking the words, “Thou shalt do no murder,” He might, in a
preternatural manner, excite in the mind the ideas corresponding to them.
Still, however, unless we suppose the conditions of human thought to be
altered in a manner for which we have no analogy, the ideas of a man,
killing, etc., must previously exist in the mind, or the revelation would
be unintelligible.  Whether, then, the ideas are called up, through the
instrumentality of words, or in some other way, is immaterial to our
present argument.  The point we insist on is that, except in the case of
actual perception, the communication of knowledge, by revelation, or
otherwise, _must be limited by the ideas previously existing in the mind
of the person to whom the communication is made_.  These ideas may be
combined into new forms, and new relations may be discovered between
them, or they may be analyzed into their constituent parts, but we cannot
transcend the ideas themselves, except by new perceptions.

Let it not, however, be imagined that a revelation, conveyed through the
instrumentality of ideas previously existing, must be so narrow as to
convey little or no new information, or instruction.  We have only to
look at the works of Milton, Newton, Shakespeare, and other great men, to
see the almost endless variety with which ideas, and the relations in
which they stand to each other, may be so combined and disposed, as to
minister to the imagination, or enrich the mind with fresh stores of
knowledge.  All the information which we derive from books, or
conversation, is obtained in this way, and to it we must probably
attribute by far the largest portion of our mental acquisitions, after
the period of childhood.  So far, indeed, as the promulgation of a
revelation by its original recipients is concerned, it appears plain that
it must be made, almost necessarily, through the instrumentality of
words, inasmuch as they are the best signs which can be made use of in
the communication of knowledge.

Before, however, proceeding to this portion of the subject, it appears
desirable to make a few additional observations with regard to a
revelation by _perception_.  We have already had occasion to notice that
“the Deity does not, like other objects, come within the direct
cognizance of our perceptive faculties” (p. 5), and that, “even if a
direct presentation of the Infinite were given . . . the result would be
a finite conception” (p. 12).  It may, however, be imagined that a direct
presentation, even though issuing in a finite conception, or a
representation either addressed _ab extra_ to our perceptive faculties,
or brought before us in a vision, or a dream, or otherwise, would convey
to the mind a more correct apprehension of God’s nature than could be
obtained in any other way.  These cases, though differing in some
particulars, may, for our present purpose, be regarded as identical, and
treated as perceptions.  Now there can be no doubt that a perception
conveys a more vivid impression to the mind than a description; and we
may, therefore, reasonably suppose that, in a revelation, God might use
this method of communicating knowledge in those cases to which it might
be specially adapted.  Thus, for instance, if God designed to give an
idea of some place or being which we had never seen, He might effect
this, in a very perfect manner, by bringing such a place or being, either
in reality, or by representation, within the range of our perceptive
faculties.  The appearance vouchsafed by God to Moses (Exod. xxxiii.
19–23), the vision of Ezekiel (Ezek. xxxvii. 1–10), and the description
given by St. Paul (2 Cor. xii. 1–4), will serve as illustrations of our
meaning.

It must not, however, be taken for granted that such a mode of revelation
would, in every case, be possible; or that, if possible, it would always
be the best method of communication.  So far as we can see, no mere
presentation, or representation of the Deity, could, in itself, give any
deep insight into His moral character, or the relation in which He stands
to us.  Even if the Deity were constantly present, we know not how we
could obtain any accurate knowledge of His attributes, except by
observation of His words and acts.  If we had been introduced to the
philanthropist, Howard, we could not have become acquainted with his
excellence by merely gazing at his countenance.  We must have listened to
his words, and followed him to those scenes of misery which he was in the
habit of visiting, if we would obtain a clear understanding of his
benevolence.  So too, the holiness, love, and other moral perfections of
the Deity, are not matters which can be apprehended from any mere
intuition of the Divine nature.  A glorious exhibition of the Divine
presence, such, for instance, as that described in Exodus, as having
occurred on Mount Sinai, might inspire feelings of awe, and enable those
who witnessed it to apprehend more clearly, perhaps, than could have been
effected in any other way, the dignity and majesty of God; but, for a
revelation of His moral nature, and the relation in which He stands to
man, we must look more to words—such words, for instance, as He is said
to have spoken to the children of Israel at that time, and afterwards,
during forty days, to Moses.  While, then, we think that a revelation by
perception, with regard to some things, might be expected, we do not
consider that it would convey a large amount of information, unless it
were combined with a revelation through words.  Words are, in fact, the
most natural and effectual mode of imparting most kinds of knowledge, and
we may, therefore, reasonably expect that, in any revelation which the
Divine Being might think fit to make to man, they would form a chief
method of communication.  When we thus speak of words in connection with
a revelation, we do not mean only words addressed actually to the ear,
but also such, as in a dream or vision, may appear to be spoken.  We
desire also that it should be remembered that, for the main purpose of
our argument, it is not so much words as _ideas_ which we wish to keep in
view.  What we chiefly wish to leave on the mind is, that a revelation,
except so far as a new perception may be given, _must be limited by the
ideas previously existing in the mind of the person to whom it is made_.
It may be reasonably expected that God would make use of those ideas
which were best adapted to His purpose, but not that He should transcend
the ideas themselves.  If, too, we suppose that a new perception is
given, that perception could not be explained to others, except through
the instrumentality of such ideas as those to which we have referred.

Our object hitherto has been to explain the conditions under which a
direct revelation from God may be expected to be _given_.  If we have
been able to remove from the minds of our readers vague and indefinite
notions on the subject, and to put, in their place, something clearer and
more distinct, our object thus far will have been answered.

It is, perhaps, hardly necessary to state that, by what has been said
above, we do not intend to intimate that the recipient of a direct
revelation must, necessarily, always understand the exact meaning of such
a revelation.  It may contain a hidden meaning, to be evident at some
future time.  Thus, for instance, on the supposition that the first
chapter of Ezekiel is a revelation from God, it is probable that the
meaning of it was as unintelligible to Ezekiel, as it is generally
considered to be at the present time.  But the meaning of the words
themselves, and their connection with each other are clear.  It is in the
application that the difficulty arises.  So, too, as advances are made in
knowledge, words, and the ideas belonging to them, acquire a more
extended and fuller meaning.  The ideas involved in the word, _sun_, are
very different to the philosopher and the peasant; and some ideas
contained in a revelation may be of such a kind as not to be fully
understood till more knowledge has been acquired, than existed at the
time when the revelation was made.  But to suppose that the words convey
no meaning to the original recipient of the revelation, is to say that no
revelation is made to him at all, and it certainly hardly appears
probable that the Divine Being should make a communication which could
answer no end to the person to whom it was addressed.

                                * * * * *

3.  We now proceed to an examination of the conditions under which _a
revelation may be recorded_, _or otherwise made known by the person who
has received it_.  Here we see at once that, for all practical purposes,
the method of communication must be _words_; for it is not necessary to
take into account such visual representations as might be made to the eye
by painting or otherwise.  Words may be oral, or written.  As the latter
are more likely to be well weighed and definite than the former, and are,
moreover, better calculated to hand down a truth from age to age, we
shall confine our attention to them, although what we have to say is, in
a great degree, applicable to spoken words also.  We start with the
supposition that God has already made known to some particular person, as
perfectly as He has thought fit, and, it may be, as perfectly as the
nature of the subject admitted, or the capability of the person to whom
the communication has been made would allow, some truth which is to be
recorded for the benefit of the present, and future generations.  The
question we have to answer is,—how this may be most effectually
accomplished.

It is obvious that, in the case of a revelation, made by words, _the
words might be recorded exactly as they were delivered_.  The words which
God is said to have spoken on Mount Sinai, and to have written
afterwards, on two tables of stone, may serve as an exemplification of
our meaning.  In this case God is described as writing them with His own
hand: but they might have been written, with equal truthfulness, by any
of those who had heard them.  If future generations had convincing
evidence that they possessed a faithful record of what God said, and the
meaning of the words had not changed during the lapse of time, the
revelation would be as perfect to them as it was to the original
recipients.  So, too, if God, instead of speaking the words of the ten
commandments, had, in some way which should authenticate the reality of
the revelation, called up in the mind of Moses the ideas corresponding to
the words, and he had faithfully written them down; those words would
convey as full a revelation to those who read them, as that which Moses
himself had experienced.  Both these would be verbal revelations in the
strict sense of the word.  They would be, in fact, the very words of God
Himself.  If any book, professing to be a revelation from God, could be
proved to be entirely of this description, there would be little or no
room for discussion about it.  The only things which could give rise to
dispute would be such as attach to the interpretation of all records.
Questions might be asked as to the exact meaning of the words, and
inquiries might be raised as to whether they retained the same meaning
which they had when they were originally written down: but any dispute
which might arise on these points would be confined within very narrow
limits, and would moreover be of such a character, as could not be
avoided, unless God were to make a revelation afresh in every age, and we
may add, perhaps, to every individual,—a supposition which would be
contrary to analogy, and in the highest degree improbable.  Thus far
there is no practical difficulty.

Is it, however, necessary to the idea of a recorded revelation that the
exact words, neither _more nor less_, as spoken by God, or as expressing
ideas which He has called up in the mind of the person to whom He has
revealed Himself, should be written down?  A recorded revelation, we must
remember, is designed chiefly for the benefit of future generations, and
it may therefore very properly leave out much which was only of passing
interest.  God might have revealed many things to Abraham, which were
highly important for him to know, but in which we may have no interest.
We can easily see then that, in any record which God might authorize,
such things would very probably be omitted.  Thus far again there is no
practical difficulty.

To proceed a step further.  Is there any reason to expect that, in a
record of a revelation, the original words, either as spoken by God, or
as expressive of the ideas which He had called up in the mind of the
recipient, might be in any decree _altered_?—and, would every alteration
necessarily make the record less a revelation from God than it was
before?  These are questions which we shall endeavour to answer.

It may be observed, in the first place, that the same train of thought
which applies to an original revelation from God, applies also, in its
main points, to the record of it.  Both in the one case, and the other,
it appears reasonable to expect that God would not, to a greater extent
than was absolutely necessary, transcend or interfere with those natural
powers in man which He had Himself implanted.  As the giving of a
revelation would, as already shewn, be conformed in a great degree to the
usual conditions under which knowledge is imparted, so also, it seems
reasonable to expect that the record of a revelation would as far as
possible be conformed to the usual conditions under which knowledge is
recorded.

In looking at the conditions under which a revelation must be recorded,
it is obvious that the difference of languages, which prevails in this
world, presents an insuperable obstacle to an exact record of words being
continued.  It may indeed be alleged that God could cause a revelation to
be recorded, in its exact words, in each distinct language.  We hardly
think however that such a view as this will be seriously entertained by
any one.  Not to mention how completely contrary this would be to what
analogy would lead us to expect, we may observe that, as languages are
continually undergoing changes, such a method of recording must be
continually renewed; and, moreover, as language does not convey precisely
the same ideas to any two individuals, it would be almost needful that a
separate record, or rather a separate revelation, should be made for each
person.  Such views as these require only to be stated to shew that they
are untenable; but, if they are untenable, it is plain that the
_continuance_ of an exact record of words cannot be expected.

But may it not be expected that, at least, _one_ exact record would be
made of any revelation which God might think fit to give, and that this
would afford the best guarantee which could be had for future
truthfulness?  In answering this question it is very important to draw a
distinction.  _The words of the record may be exactly such words as God
approves of_, _although they may not be the precise words in which the
original revelation was made_.  In some particular instances God might
determine that the precise words of the revelation should be used, while
in others He might think fit that it should be otherwise.  In either case
the record would be a true one, and each method of recording might have
its own peculiar advantages.  Under some circumstances it might be
desirable that not the slightest deviation from the precise mode of
expression which God had communicated should be made; while under others,
the human view—by which we here mean the view of the particular person to
whom the revelation is made—might be recorded, and add to it a force
which could hardly be had in any other way.  So long as the record is
such as God approves of, every requisite to a true record is complied
with.  If a minister of state were commissioned to make a communication
to a foreign court, he might write down the whole or a part of it in his
own words, and, if his own court approved of the words, contained in the
writing, the object in view would be answered.  We can even understand
that, in some respects, the communication might gain force by this mode
of proceeding.  The ηθος of the writer would be manifested, and carry
with it a certain degree of weight.  There would be the weight which
attached to the document as emanating from the government, and there
might be an additional weight from the character of the person who had
been entrusted to write, and, perhaps, carry out, in some degree, the
requirements of, the dispatch.  In the case of a recorded revelation, it
appears then probable that God would permit those feelings and powers
which He has implanted in man, and which exert such a strong influence on
others, to do their work, subject, however, to His own control and
guidance.  In this way there would be a Divine and a human aspect of the
record; a Divine and a human power in it.  All of it would be the truth
of God, and it would be presented to us in a manner peculiarly adapted to
our condition, and likely to ensure our acceptance of it.  At the very
least such a method of recording would be exactly consistent with
truthfulness.

We may go a step further, and say that it would be difficult, if not
impossible, to conceive any circumstances under which the record should
not bear a human aspect.  If the views propounded in the former part of
these “Thoughts,” with regard to the conditions under which a revelation
must be made, and especially with respect to anthropomorphic views of
God, be correct, a revelation _must_ assume, in some measure, a human
aspect.  But if the human aspect must exist in the presentation, it must
also in the record.  The only question which is really open to discussion
is, whether there should be the _same_ human aspect in the record, as in
the original revelation; in other words, whether it may be expected that
God would always present that particular human aspect in the original
revelation which He considered best adapted for the record.  For the
reasons already assigned it does not seem probable that this would be the
case.

It must be remembered, moreover, that in the case of a revelation, made
at different times, and to different persons, either the character of
each individual writer must be manifested in the record, or some other
character, alien perhaps to that of the writer, and certainly not equally
adapted to that of all the readers, must be adopted.  Which method of
record appears the most probable, and the most calculated to promote the
object of a revelation—namely, to instruct and influence mankind—it does
not appear very difficult to determine.  It seems, then, that a variety
of style may be expected in the records written by different persons of
the revelations which they have received.  As has been before observed,
all that is essential to the truthfulness of the record is that God
should approve of it.

A question may possibly arise here as to the precise _manner_ in which
the words may be so recorded, as to convey a true account of God’s
revelation.  In endeavouring to supply an answer, it should be
remembered, in the first place, that in the ordinary affairs of life no
great difficulty occurs with regard to the transmission of a message.  If
the person who has been selected to convey it, has sufficient
intelligence to understand it, and is, moreover, desirous to deliver it
faithfully, he is, in most cases, able either to speak, or write it, in
his own words, in such a manner as to convey the right meaning to others.
So, too, with regard to a revelation; if the person to whom it has been
made rightly apprehends it, and endeavours to record it honestly, the
probability is great that the record which he makes will be a true one.
If, too, we are prepared, in accordance with the common belief in all
ages, to admit that God can, and at times does, exercise a control over
the minds of men, it is reasonable to believe that He would do this, when
the object was to furnish a correct record for the benefit of future
ages.  This control might be exercised either consciously, or
unconsciously to the writer.  All that would be needful for the
truthfulness of the record is, that it should be exercised in some way.

                                * * * * *

4.  We will now proceed to offer some remarks as to the conditions under
which _a revelation may be expected to be transmitted_.  Much of what has
been said, with regard to the recording of a revelation, by the person to
whom it was originally made, applies to the transmission of such a record
to future generations, and its translation into other languages.  If a
belief (in what way originated we do not now stop to enquire) in the
reality of the recorded revelation existed, the greatest care would
naturally be taken in making copies from it, and also in translating it.
Well-known examples of this are to be found in the care which the Jews of
old used in making new copies of their sacred books, and also in the fact
that, in our own country, no printers, but those appointed by the Queen,
are permitted to publish the authorized version of the Bible.  It can
hardly be considered possible that those who believed in the reality of a
recorded revelation, and valued it, would not take care to hand it down
in a correct form to others; and, although incorrect, mutilated, and
interpolated copies, might, in some instances, be made by other persons,
it does not seem likely that these would prevail to such an extent, as to
prevent the true record from maintaining its ground.  Such dishonest
copies would hardly be made at all, till considerable interest had been
manifested in the revelation; and _then_ any variations from the correct
copies would scarcely pass without challenge, and correction.

It appears then, that, as the ordinary mode of recording, copying, and
translating important communications are usually found sufficiently
adequate for their several purposes, such methods might be employed with
success in regard to a revelation: and it also seems probable that God
would not interfere with such methods more than was absolutely necessary
for the purpose He had in view.  If we suppose that God exercised,
throughout the whole process of transmission, that controlling power to
which reference has been made; then there would be a correct record in
each age.  That God should exercise that power to such an extent as to
prevent every possibility of error, in the transmission of the record, or
of mistake as to its meaning in the minds of those who read it, would be
contrary to the analogy of His dealings with us in other things.  We
possess faculties, by the due exercise of which we are enabled to arrive
at a sufficiently accurate knowledge of those things which are essential
to our wellbeing, but we are not, by infallible guidance, preserved from
error.  If we were, our responsibility would to a great extent cease.
All that can be reasonably expected, in the case under consideration, is
that the record should be transmitted with such exactness, as that an
honest inquirer should be able to ascertain its authenticity, and
understand its meaning, so far as God designed that he should know it.
We say—so far as God designed that he should know it,—because it is quite
conceivable that there might be mysteries in a revelation, the meaning of
which would not be made clear till the time determined beforehand by God
should arrive.

                                * * * * *

5.  To enter into a full examination, as to what would constitute
sufficient grounds for _accepting_ a professed revelation, would open too
wide a field of enquiry for our present purpose, and would necessitate a
discussion of that very difficult branch of metaphysics which relates to
the laws which regulate our belief.  Without, however, attempting to
discuss the subject fully, a few points may be indicated for
consideration.

It is clear that the evidence, with regard to the record of a professed
revelation, _will vary in its character at different times_.  The
evidence will be more direct, and, in this respect, more clear, at an
earlier period of the record, than at a later: while, on the other hand,
a record which has been translated into different languages, and has
exercised a widely spread influence, will possess a peculiar force of its
own.  On the supposition that God made a revelation to Moses, it is not
difficult to suppose that convincing evidence, as to the truthfulness of
what he might say, or write about it, might readily be afforded to those
who lived in his times.  If such miracles, as those recorded in the
Pentateuch really occurred—and certainly if God so far transcended the
usual course of nature as to give a revelation, it does not seem hard to
believe that He might also so far transcend it, as to authenticate it in
some special manner—the evidence would be of a very strong kind.  To say,
however, that no reasonable conviction of the reality of a revelation
could be afforded, without the aid of miracles, is an assertion which we
are not prepared to hazard; though we certainly think that, as calculated
to excite attention, and implying a power superior to that of man, they
would serve as excellent credentials.  To human view, in fact, a miracle
does not necessarily imply the agency of the one God.  It might, for
anything that can be proved to the contrary, be the work of some power,
inferior to that God whom we are bound to obey, and yet superior to man.
The various circumstances therefore, connected with the miracle, would be
properly taken into account by the person who was investigating a
professed revelation.  He would not only examine with care the evidence
as to the reality of the miracle itself, but also the circumstances under
which it was worked, and its aspect.  The character of the person who
professed to have received the revelation would very fairly come under
consideration.  Inquiries would be made as to whether he was one whose
word could be safely trusted, and whether he possessed sufficient
intelligence, to render it probable that he would arrive at a right
conclusion.  A man of known truthfulness and intelligence would justly
meet with more ready credence, than a person of an opposite character.

The revelation itself, too, would be closely scrutinized.  In some cases
it is conceivable that the revelation would go far to prove itself.  It
might make known things which, though not perhaps discoverable by man’s
reason, were nevertheless so agreeable to it, as to carry with them an
almost irresistible conviction.  As, too, a revelation would be given for
the practical guidance of man, it would probably be attended with
threatenings and promises, or other predictions; and when the things
which had been foretold actually took place, the reality of the
revelation would be, to a great extent, established.  If, for instance,
the remarkable occurrences which Moses, on various occasions, foretold,
as about to take place in the land of Egypt, really occurred, it would,
we think, be very difficult to avoid the conclusion that he had received
a revelation from God, and that what he said, or wrote, was to be
depended upon.  A candid inquirer would also examine, in a reverent
spirit, whether the professed revelation was likely to promote a pure
morality, and to further the best interests of mankind.  He would not,
indeed, enter upon such an examination, with the feeling that he was
competent to decide, in _every_ respect, as to the justice and excellence
of the statements which professed to be revealed; for his reason, if
consulted, would tell him that many circumstances might be hidden from
him, without which a correct judgment could not be formed, and that,
possibly, his capacity might not be able to grasp them in all their
relations, even if they were put before him.  Still, such an examination
as that which we have just referred to, would properly form an element in
leading to a conclusion, and, when combined with others, would give as
reasonable grounds for arriving at a decision with respect to a professed
revelation, as we should be willing to act on in the usual business of
life, and would, therefore, be suited to the conditions of our being.
The decision arrived at would commonly be the result, not of a single
proof, but of many concurrent circumstances.

What has been said in reference to an examination, instituted by persons
living at the time when a professed revelation was made, is obviously
applicable, in many respects, to those who should live in later times,
and also to the original recipients themselves.  With regard to evidence
in later times, it may be added that the original believers in the
record, and their followers in each succeeding age, would naturally be
subjected to an examination, as to their truthfulness and intelligence,
and thus a chain of evidence would be continually kept up.  The larger,
too, the number, and the more intelligent the character of those who
believed in it, the greater would be the presumption in its favour.  If
the record were received generally by any nation, the _onus probandi_
would in that case lie with those who impugned it.  The record itself
also would, from time to time, be submitted to such fair rules of
criticism as apply to other documents, the fact however being remembered,
that it professed to be the word of God, and, therefore, that evidence of
its authenticity, rather than of its exact coincidence with human reason,
was to be mainly looked for.

We have now indicated, although very briefly and imperfectly, a few
points for consideration, as to the transmission of a recorded
revelation, and what might constitute sufficient grounds for accepting it
as true; and we trust that what has been said will suffice to show that
there would be no great difficulty in so handing it down, as that it
should convey to the candid inquirer, in each succeeding age, reasonable
evidence of its reality.

It may, however, be argued, that, although such evidence, as has been
indicated, might well convince those who had time and ability to
institute a searching examination, the case is different with regard to
others; and that, as a revelation may be presumed to have a most
important bearing upon the interests of all, there should be some more
easy method by which it may be tested.  Now, we are quite prepared to
admit that every one should have sufficient grounds afforded him for
arriving at a decision; but, at the same time, we do not conceive that a
thorough examination of the evidence, made by each person for himself, is
the only, or even principal, method by which a safe conclusion may be
reached.  Each individual has commonly some peculiar talent, in the
exercise of which he reaches an excellence, which others, whose abilities
and pursuits are of a different character, do not attain to.  The
astronomer works out conclusions, which, those, whose attention has been
directed to other subjects, could never have reached, but which they may
nevertheless, with propriety, accept as true.  It is not every one who
has time or ability to sift evidence on theological subjects, or to
criticise manuscripts; but the labours of those who have given their
attention to such things may, it is evident, justly be available for the
benefit of others.  Even the wisest person accepts as true much on the
testimony of others, and that often on subjects with which he is
conversant.  When his judgment is most independent he will find, if he
analyzes it, that much is borrowed.  There is nothing contrary to sound
reason in all this.  Without it, little progress could be made in
anything.  Without it, each succeeding age, instead of standing on the
platform which had been raised by that which preceded it, would have the
weary task of commencing afresh, and could thus make few accessions to
knowledge.  Trustfulness is as much a part of man’s constitution, as
reasoning or any other intellectual process.  Should it be said that men
often trust wrongly; it may be replied with equal force that they as
frequently reason wrongly.  Probably there is less difficulty in
ascertaining where we may safely trust, than in weighing evidence
properly, or carrying out correctly a train of reasoning.  Certainly
people have little difficulty, if they use their faculties aright, in
selecting a fit adviser in law or medicine.  Why should there be a
greater difficulty with regard to religion?  We do not mean that anyone
would be justified in so placing himself under the guidance of another,
as to _give up_ the exercise of his own judgment altogether; but, that he
may properly make use of the counsel of others, and that often to such an
extent as to overrule his own views in _forming_ his judgment.

There is another consideration, connected with this portion of the
subject, which well deserves attention.  A conclusion may be a very
correct one, and may have been reached by a very satisfactory process,
although the person who has made it, may be unable to state the grounds
upon which it rests, or meet the objections which may be made against it.
This applies not only to those cases, where the conclusion mainly rests
upon trust, but also to others.  An eminent statesman recommended a
person going out in an official capacity, to give his decisions
confidently, but not to venture to declare the reasons.  The decisions
would probably be right, but the reasons, as _stated by him_, might not
be.  It need not be inferred from this that the reasons upon which he
would really act were wrong, but rather that from want of practice, or
power of analysis, or some other cause, he would be unable to bring them
out correctly.  The processes of thought pass so rapidly through the
mind, that even the most practised thinkers often find it difficult to
arrest them in their progress, and state the various steps by which they
have arrived at their conclusions.  The simplest and most certain grounds
of our conclusions are, in fact, not unfrequently those which it is most
difficult to bring out into distinct view.  They have so often passed
through the mind that we have ceased to notice them, although, all the
while, they contribute essentially to the judgment which is formed; or
they lie so far back, in the depths of our consciousness, that it is
almost impossible to recover them.  Necessarily, nothing can be so
simple, or so certain, in one sense, as intuitions, that is, those things
which we know or believe without any intermediate process of thought, and
yet, down to the present time, those who have most deeply studied the
subject hesitate to decide exactly as to what are intuitions, and what
are not.  We conclude then that, while, on the one hand, we should not
discredit the rational powers of men, as if they were unequal to perform
the task allotted to them; we must not, on the other, be easily shaken
with regard to conclusions which have been made with care and
consideration, because we may be unable to trace out accurately the
arguments by which they are supported, or answer the objections which are
made against them.

We have now considered revelation with regard to the conditions under
which it may be expected to be _given_, _recorded_, and _transmitted_,
with a view to its being _accepted and believed_.  We do not for a moment
suppose that we have removed every difficulty; but if we have upon the
whole, made clear to our readers the nature of these conditions, or,
where this has not been done, indicated the points at which difficulties
exist, our chief purpose will have been answered.

                                * * * * *

6.  Here we might leave the subject, but we cannot forbear adding some
further observations in reference to that professed revelation of God’s
will which is to be found in the Bible.  It is not our intention to
attempt a summary of the various evidences which exist to show that it is
a real one; nor is it our design to reply at length to the objections
which have been made to invalidate it.  There are however some obvious
facts which meet us on the threshold of the inquiry, and which can be
estimated at their just value by any candid inquirer, to which we would
direct attention.

We find for instance that the Bible contains a purer system of morality,
and conveys a clearer insight into the unity and nature of God, than is
to be found in any other book; and that, although it is the composition
of men, many of them ignorant and unlearned, who have lived at different
times, and occupied very dissimilar positions in life, there is,
nevertheless, a wonderful similarity in the main outlines of religious
truth, as delivered by all the writers.  We know, however, still further,
that the morality and precepts of the Bible, although confessedly of a
pure and holy character, are, nevertheless, not of such a kind as to fall
in with the wishes and passions of mankind.  To believe that morality
must extend to thoughts as well as actions, and that an all-seeing God
notices, and will one day call all men to a strict account, is not a
matter which, if we may judge from what we see around us, is agreeable to
the feelings of most men.  Nor, if we look to the great remedy proposed
for the sin of man, such, we mean, as it is supposed to be, by the great
majority of professing Christians, namely, the atoning sacrifice made by
the Son of God, do we find here again a matter which either the reason or
the feelings of men generally are ready to lead them to adopt.  We see
too, that in all ages unbelief has, more or less, existed, and objections
have been, from time to time, brought forward which appeared likely to
have considerable power in undermining the existing belief in the Bible.
Persecution also has exercised its influence, and, it might frequently
have been supposed, according to human calculations, that it would have
availed to destroy all credence in it.  And yet, notwithstanding all
these circumstances, to which we have referred, it is an incontrovertible
fact that a professed belief in the Bible, as a revelation from God,
exists most widely.  It is, we may add, not a little worthy of being
remarked that the nomenclature of the Bible has obtained such a strong
hold on the public mind, in our own day, that many who deny inspiration
in any distinctive sense, still retain the use of this and other words,
as if afraid to make it plain how far they differ from those opinions
which are commonly received.

The present age is certainly more enlightened than any which has preceded
it; but, hitherto at least, a professed belief in the orthodox doctrines
of religion has increased rather than diminished.  We find moreover that
persons of all ranks, and every kind of mental calibre, have declared
that they find something in the Bible which they do not find in any other
book; something, in fact, which, when duly received, comes home to their
hearts as men, and seems admirably adapted to the deepest wants of human
nature.  We see too that those who appear to have accepted the Bible most
fully, and to hold it most firmly, have been so much impressed with a
sense of its importance to the world at large, as to have endeavoured,
often at considerable risk and expense, to communicate to others, both
at-home and abroad, the knowledge of those things which they have
received as truths—a method of proceeding which has not been adopted,
and, in fact, could not have been, without a manifest absurdity, by those
who profess to believe in the inspiration of Plato, Milton, Shakespeare,
and other great, but, according to common opinion, uninspired men.  All
these and various other considerations which might be adduced seem to
mark out the Bible, as being a book at least _different_ from all other
books, and to lead to the presumption that it may contain that knowledge
of God which, as has been remarked in the earlier part of these
“Thoughts,” it appears most important for men to be acquainted with, and
a revelation of which, in some way or other, has been very commonly
believed in.  Assuredly there is a strong presumption in its favour, and
the _onus probandi_, in our own day, lies with those who deny its claims
to acceptance.  Whether however the Bible actually is, or contains a
revelation from God is still a fair subject for reverent examination.

Without attempting to enter upon such an examination here, we may,
without impropriety, offer a suggestion as to the _spirit_ in which it
should be conducted.  It must be remembered that the examination of a
theological, or any other subject which bears upon the interests of our
daily lives, involves principles of a very different character from those
which are connected with an investigation of the science of number, or
any other abstract science.  Mathematical and numerical investigations
advance from principles which are clearly defined, and almost universally
acknowledged to be self-evident; the reasoning also is of such a kind as
to preclude the admission of error.  In theology the case is different.
There, it is difficult to define with accuracy the points from which the
reasoning commences, and also to exclude, with certainty, the possibility
of error in the reasoning itself.  There is, too, another essential
difference between abstract sciences and other subjects of inquiry.  It
is not only self-evident that two straight lines cannot enclose a space,
but the judgment which the mind gives on the subject is not in any danger
of being disturbed by the feelings.  In theology, however, the matters
which come under consideration are so mixed up with our nearest and
dearest interests, that the feelings are called into play at every step
of the investigation, and a just balance of the judgment cannot be
preserved without the exercise of much care.  Hence the necessity of
endeavouring to preserve a candid and unruffled spirit in all enquiries
connected with religion.  No doubt those feelings which a beneficent God
has implanted with a view to assist us in deciding, are to have their due
weight; but certainly there is need of caution, lest they influence us
unduly.  If the judge thinks it needful to charge the jury to dismiss
from their minds everything which might tend to influence their judgments
in an improper manner, and attend only to the evidence, even though the
matter about which they have to decide is usually one in which they have
no personal interest; it certainly does not appear unnecessary to give a
similar caution on a subject, with regard to which feeling has assumed so
strong a form as to give rise to the name, _odium theologicum_.  We
deceive ourselves, if we imagine that we approach the subject without any
danger of judging it unfairly.  This caution, undoubtedly applies to
_all_ who discuss theological questions; but we think that we shall not
be making an unwarranted assertion, if we say that it applies in a
special manner to those who _impugn_ the Bible revelation, when it is
remembered that the doctrines contained in it, as they have generally
been received by those who are called orthodox Christians, are of such a
kind as very commonly to excite, in the first instance at least, a strong
feeling of opposition.  The Bible itself intimates this, and common
experience bears witness to it as being a fact.  We are not now saying
that the doctrines of the purity and holiness of God, the dreadful nature
of sin, the need of an atonement, the inability of man to present himself
before God in merits of his own, and others of a similar kind are true;
but we may properly say that, whether true or false, they are such as
frequently raise a strong feeling of opposition; and therefore that those
who examine them, with the view of ascertaining their character, stand in
_special_ need of the caution to preserve a calm and candid spirit.

It will not be out of place to introduce here another consideration which
has a bearing upon this part of the subject, namely, the _supernatural
aid_ which the Bible offers towards the understanding and acceptance of
its doctrines.  It is quite conceivable that a state of things might
exist in which such aid would be wholly unnecessary.  We might suppose a
case in which the nature of man was so entirely in harmony with itself,
and so exactly attuned to the truths of a Divine revelation, as readily
to accept it, when it was presented; but the question we have to decide
is, whether man’s nature is actually in this state or not.  Observation
leads us to believe that it is not.  Whether we accept the scripture
statement of the fall or not, we must not shut our eyes to the fact that
it is difficult for virtue to force its way, while vice has many
votaries.  However convincing, abstractedly, the reasons may be to
enforce the claims of virtue, it is evident that they possess but little
power to lead the large majority of mankind.  History and experience
testify to this.  Scarce any deny the evidence in favour of virtue,
although few are content to be governed by it.  Now it may be fairly
presumed that any revelation which the Divine Being might make would be
in the interests of virtue; it may be reasonably expected too that it
would be supported by strong evidence: but, if, as actual observation
makes it clear is the case, the feelings of mankind are more inclined to
reject than accept the claims of virtue, the evidence, however strong,
will not produce the effect which it would, if the mind were more justly
balanced, and thus the revelation will be in danger of being rejected.
Such rejection, be it remembered, need not result from any deficiency of
evidence, but may arise from an indisposition to receive it.  For our own
part we believe that the evidence in favour of the orthodox views of
scripture statements is far stronger than can be found in support of any
other subject of a like kind: but, at the same time, taking into
consideration the actual tendencies of human nature, we are not surprised
that it does not produce the effect which it should do; and therefore it
appears to us not unreasonable to suppose that God might exercise some
such supernatural power upon the mind, as the Bible speaks of, with the
view of disposing it to the reception of a revelation.

That God does at times interfere in a manner, out of the usual course of
His Providence, with regard to other matters, especially in answer to
prayer, is believed almost universally.  We cannot enter here into a
discussion as to the foundation of the belief; but, certainly so long as
the records of mankind go back, and so far as the experience of the
present day conducts us, the belief has been entertained, and prayer
seems to be the natural expression of man’s heart in all cases of
difficulty.  Men _will_ believe in, and appeal to, a supernatural power,
and it is hard to suppose that a tendency so universal and deeply seated,
should have no solid foundation.  But if prayer, for aid and direction
from above, is the natural outpouring of man’s heart with regard to the
more ordinary affairs of life, there appears to be no reason why prayer
should not be offered up for counsel and guidance with regard to a
professed revelation, and that an answer should be expected.  At least,
it can hardly be said that those have fairly tested the claims of
scripture to be received as a revelation from God, who have not complied
with the conditions which it has laid down as to the manner in which it
should be studied.

We now leave the subject, drawing the attention of our readers to the
prayer of one of our greatest poets, and earnestly hoping that his prayer
may be theirs:—

    . . . What in me is dark,
    Illumine; what is low, raise and support;
    That to the height of this great argument
    I may assert Eternal Providence,
    And justify the ways of God to man.

                                                          _Paradise Lost_.

                                * * * * *

                  LONDON: WERTHEIM, MACINTOSH, AND HUNT.

                          _By the same Author_,

                          THOUGHTS ON MIRACLES.

                             PRICE SIXPENCE.




Footnotes:


{17}  On the subject of the Mosaic cosmogony, see a very interesting
Letter from Sir Isaac Newton to Dr. Thomas Burnet, in Sir David
Brewster’s “Life of Newton,” pp. 450–453.