Chapter XXXV: Preface (7)

There is, then, a wide variance between the genius of Christianity, and that philosophy which teaches, that all men must be bought over to the side of goodness and of God, by a price suited to their particular form of selfishness and appetite for pleasure. Our religion is remarkable for the large confidence it reposes on the disinterested affections, and the vast proportion of the work of life it consigns to them. And in thus seeking to subordinate and tranquillize the prudential feelings, Christ manifested how well he knew what was in man. He recognized the truth, which all experience declares, that in these emotions is nothing great, nothing loveable, nothing powerful; that their energy is perpetually found incapable of withstanding the impetuosity of passion; and that all transcendant virtues, all that brings us to tremble or to kneel, all the enterprises and conflicts which dignify history, and have stamped any new feature on human life, have had their origin in the disinterested region of the mind; in affections, unconsciously entranced by some object sanctifying and divine. He knew, for it was his special mission to make all men feel, that it is the office of true religion to cleanse the sanctuary of the secret affections, and effect a regeneration of the heart. And this is a task which no direct _nisus_ of the will can possibly accomplish, and to which, therefore, all offers of reward and punishment, operating only on the will, are quite inapplicable. The single function of volition is _to act_; over the executive part of our nature it is supreme; over the emotional it is powerless; and all the wrestlings of desire for self-cure and self-elevation, are like the struggles of a child to lift himself. He who is anxious to be a philanthropist, is admiring benevolence, instead of loving men; and whoever is labouring to warm his devotion, yearns after piety, not after God. The mind can by no spasmodic bound seize on a new height of emotion, or change the light in which objects appear before its view. Persuade the judgment, bribe the self-interests, terrify the expectations, as you will, you can neither dislodge a favourite, nor enthrone a stranger, in the heart. Show me a child that flings an affectionate arm around a parent, and lights up his eyes beneath her face, and I know that there have been no lectures there upon filial love; but that the mother, being loveable, has _of necessity_ been loved; for to genial minds it is as impossible to withhold a pure affection, when its object is presented, as for the flower to sulk within the mould, and clasp itself tight within the bud, when the gentle force of spring invites its petals to curl out into the warm light. As you reverence all good affections of our nature, and desire to awaken them, never call them duties, though they be so; for so doing, you address yourself to the will; and by hard trying no attachment ever entered the heart. Never preach on their great desirableness and propriety; for so doing, you ask audience of the judgment; and by way of the understanding no glow of noble passion ever came. Never, above all, reckon up their balance of good and ill; for so doing, you exhort self-interest; and by that soiled way no true love will consent to pass. Nay, never talk of them, nor even gaze curiously at them; for if they be of any worth and delicacy, they will be instantly looked out of countenance and fly. Nothing worthy of human veneration will condescend to be embraced, but for its own sake: grasp it for its excellent results,—make but the faintest offer to use it as a tool, and it slips away at the very conception of such insult. The functions of a healthy body go on, not by knowledge of physiology, but by the instinctive vigour of nature; and you will no more brace the spiritual faculties to noble energy and true life, by study of the uses of every feeling, than you can train an athlete for the race, by lectures on every muscle of every limb. The mind is not voluntarily active in the acquisition of any great idea, any new inspiration of faith; but passive, fixed on the object which has dawned upon it, and filled it with fresh light.

If this be true, and if it be the object of practical Christianity, not only to direct our hands aright, but to inspire our hearts; then can its ends never be achieved by the mere force of reward and punishment; then no system can prove its sufficiency, by showing that it retains the doctrine of retribution, and must even be held convicted of moral incompetency, if it trusts the conscience mainly to the prudential feelings, without due provision for enlisting the co-operation of many a disinterested affection.

To this objection must any scheme be liable, which represents the Creator as having made choice of the instrumentality of evil. I freely admit, that no one urges the _personal_ motives to duty with more closeness and force than the Necessarian. Maintaining, with the utmost strictness, the connexion of moral cause and effect, teaching the alliance of happiness with excellence, and of misery with vice, by a law inexorable as fate, he convinces us, that every concession to temptation, every relaxation of conscientious effort, is an addition of wretchedness to our future lot; that when the evil volition has once passed, no fortuity can provide evasion, nor any mercy give us shelter; that on the decisions of our will is suspended whatever can make our everlasting destination blessed. But his doctrine goes on to assure us, that it is only to ourselves that our sins create any clear increase of suffering; they are a part of the best possible system, designed for the general good; and shown, by their occurrence, to be clear benefits to the world. No love of our fellow-man, then, can be engaged in behalf of duty; let conscience say what it will, we hold no power, and incur no risk, of creating injury to others; and our sympathies with them cannot reasonably determine any moral choice. No love of God can tender help to our feeble virtue: for he is not “grieved in our sins;” and whether, in our conflicts, we succumb or conquer, the issue is well-pleasing in his sight. He appears to sustain a relation, not of concern, but of indifference, to our choice; and the idea of him, as spectator of the strife, inspires no courage, and brings no victory. If it be urged, that these considerations are of too high and abstract a kind to influence us in practice, and that to us our misconduct must always appear injurious to men, and offensive to God; what is this but to allow the unfitness of the doctrine to our minds, and to say, that it is harmless, in proportion as it remains unrealized? It is a poor plea for the value of a system to exclaim, “Never mind its threatened mischiefs, conscience is too strong for them.” The point at which the present argument rests is this, that _in so far as the doctrine operates_, it dismisses all but the prudential feelings from the service of duty.

Our conclusion is evident. The spirit of practical Christianity gives a double suffrage against the scheme which makes moral evil the _instrument_ of God; and bids us regard it as his _enemy_. Revelation allies itself with the primitive religion of the conscience.

To the theoretic question, still urged by our wonder and solicitude, “But _whence_ this foe?” it has been already said, that no answer can be given. All the ingenuities of logic and of language, leave it a mystery still: and it is better to stand within the darkness in the quietude of faith, than vainly to search for its margin in the restlessness of knowledge. Were we compelled, for relief of mind, to select _some_ definite method of representing the case to our apprehensions, I know not any simpler or better conception than that of the ancient Platonists;—that the process of creation consisted, not in the origination of matter itself out of nothing, but in the production of form, order, beauty, organization, life, sentiency, out of matter,—in making it the residence of mind, the receptacle of experience, and the servitor of souls: that the Divine hand has manifested illimitable skill, and the Divine love infinite versatility, in the use and application of the original material; but that, as it is the negative opposite to his positive perfections, its unsusceptibility of life and spirit has occasioned the portion of evil which deforms the universe, and which, however varied and reduced, and, in the higher gradations of being, attenuated to the verge of extinction, cannot be utterly annihilated. From the large proportion of visible evil, natural and moral, that is traceable to disorganization and its related changes, this view is easily apprehended, and may indeed be detected, in many common forms of thought and speech. If it be not true, no better substitute for the truth is within our reach. It limits the power of God no more than the rival scheme: for were we to say, that he became the author of evil, as the _unavoidable_ means of ulterior benefits, we should admit, that _only on these terms_ was the contemplated good producible, even by him whom, in relation to all our measures of force, we justly call Omnipotent. It is impossible to escape, and therefore better to confront, the idea of a NECESSITY, restricting the conditions within which the Divine goodness operates;—a necessity, mysterious, but not dreadful; not great enough to be subversive of faith, nor trivial enough to be reasoned out of sight. I know not why our thoughts should not find a residence for this necessity, rather in the materials awaiting the Creative hand, than in any immaterial laws, under the mystic title of “the Nature of things,” or (in other words,) any dark Fate behind the throne. But in saying this, I only propose to _state the problem_ in the most salutary form, and by no means to offer a solution: mere pretension to ideas, where truly we have none, only excludes us from the benefits (which are many) of our allotted portion of ignorance. I have no sympathy with the confident and dogmatic spirit, which exclaims, “Let the counsel of the Holy One draw nigh, that we may know it;” and would only protest against systems that “call evil good, and good evil,” that “put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter.”

Sin, then, in the sight of God and all good men, is to be esteemed an evil, absolutely and everlastingly. We may rally the _whole_ power of our nature against it: for it destroys our personal security; it irremediably wounds our brother; and it puts us in dreary alienation from our Father and our Judge. We may let loose our aversion to all that offends the conscience, and without metaphysical hesitancy, visit it with uncompromising hate; for so doing, we are indignant with no instrument of Deity; nor do we fall into any sentiment at variance with his. We may yield, with entire self-precipitation, to the love of whatever things are pure and true and good; never fearing that our affections will become too exclusive for the enlightened children of the Highest. When we look into the darker chambers of our soul, and discern, asleep or awake, the powers of selfishness, malice, jealousy,—we see therein no nursery of discipline, where God presides to train us ultimately well; but the dreadful dwelling of our familiar fiend who wrestles in apostacy with God;—the palace of the penal furies that at once tempt and torture us, a place severed by a whole universe from Heaven;—the inner Hell of our immortal nature, so plenteous in solitary agonies, that the addition of outward flames populous with tormented beings would only refresh us with pity for their woes. The fever of desire, the fires of revenge, the gnawing of remorse, still busy in our immortality; the shame of resuscitated memories; the passionate yearning after strength with the prostrate consciousness of weakness; the strangeness and desolation of empty minds and heated appetites carried to the assemblage of the skies, and gazed on by the pitying eye of a Divine but alienated purity,—Oh! what flames can burn into tenderer seats of anguish than these? And so far from planning and willing the lapse of any into such guilt and suffering, the Great Ruler never ceases to resist to the last, all such delay of his benediction and frustration of his desire. He dwells absolutely apart from all creative contact with the evil which we are bound to abhor: he comes before us as a being unambiguously Holy; not in any ultimate and scarce intelligible way, but in our plain human sense. His name must be reserved as the exclusive receptacle of all the excellence and beauty, the majesty and tenderness, the purity and justice, of which our minds can gather together the ideas. It is no figure of speech, that there is _joy in heaven_ over the sinner that repenteth: that part at least of heaven that dwells below and hides itself within our hearts, that portion of God that expresses itself through the sanctities of our nature, yields to our moral restoration not only a ready welcome, but a mysterious help. When fear has performed its proper and only function on a responsible being,—which is, not to create holiness, but to arrest guilt; when it has summoned us, like the prodigal, to ourselves again; when it has brought the mad career to halt, and left us weeping, humbled, prostrate in the dust, crying, “Lord, help us, we perish;”—then the Divine Spirit dawns on the gloom of our self-abasement, and refreshes us with the delicious light of a new and purer love: instead of the vain strivings of an enervated will, the restless beating of mere prudence against the iron bars of corrupt desire, the gates of the soul are burst silently open by some angel affection, and we are free! And shall we not, with most devout allegiance, follow our Divine Emancipator? The great work, which his holy energy is thus ready to carry on within us, he may be discerned conducting every where without us. On the theatre of the universe he is himself engaged to grapple eternally with Evil, and hurl it from the higher portion of his abode. And so, he waits, with his inspiring sympathy, to hail every victory of our free-will: and by all the filial love we bear him, by the generous fear of estrangement from his spirit, by the hope of growth in his similitude, we are summoned to enter the field of moral conflict,—to stir up the noble courage of our hearts, and in the Lord’s own might, do battle with the confederate fiends of guilt and woe. There is not elsewhere a combat so glorious, or a trophy so divine.

NOTES.

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A.

_Origin of the Doctrine of Two Principles._

The prominent place which the doctrine of two principles occupies in the later theology of the Persians has procured for that people the reputation of being the first to apprehend it; and for Zoroaster the credit of assigning to it its due importance in the religious reformation which he accomplished. So much doubt, however, exists, respecting the age in which Zoroaster lived, the nature and extent of the change which he introduced, and even on the question whether he really taught the dualistic scheme at all, that he cannot justly deprive the Ionian philosophers of a claim to originality in their resort to it. If either before the Persian conquest of the Medes, or in the time of Darius Hystaspes, this doctrine had been entrusted to the Magi, as conservators of the national religion, it is difficult to account for the omission of so fundamental a tenet in the account which Herodotus gives of the Persian theology. The simple monotheism which the Father of History describes, as seeking the mountain top in sacrifice, and calling the whole circle of the heavens God,[571] can scarcely be the same with the elaborate system of dualism, attributed by Plutarch to Zoroaster and the Magi;[572] and the difference between the two accounts throws a doubt on the antiquity of the latter doctrine in the East. Yet, on the other hand, if we assign to it the most recent date of which the case admits, we must allow that it formed part of the _popular belief_ in the fourth century before Christ; in which case, it must have existed, at least in its previous _philosophical_ _form_, in the fifth. A doctrine, however, which had not yet assumed a mythological character, or drawn to itself any external ceremonial, might easily escape the notice of Herodotus. The Indian books, which contain the same tenet, are thought by Friedrich von Schlegel to have borrowed it from Persia;[573] and cannot therefore be adduced in separate proof of its high antiquity. On the whole, there appears to be no evidence of its propagation among any native Oriental people, before the brilliant period of art and philosophy in the Greek cities of Asia Minor.

Even if it should be chronologically incorrect to affirm, that Ionian speculation “anticipated” the oriental religions in their theological and philosophical ideas, there is no sufficient reason to deny its independence and originality. Though the Greek schools did not arise till an opening intercourse with Egypt and the interior of Asia afforded to their founders the _opportunity_ of borrowing from foreign sources, it does not appear that they estimated this advantage highly enough to avail themselves of it. Only a truly indigenous philosophy could have left such distinct traces of a regular and progressive development, beginning with the poetical cosmogonies of a purely mythological æra, and growing, under the fostering care of successive teachers, into vast speculative systems, bearing a relation, continually more obscure and questionable, to the theology which gave them birth. Adverting to this natural process, Mr. Thirlwall says: “It can excite no surprise that in a period such as we are now reviewing, when thought and inquiry were stimulated in so many new directions, some active minds should have been attracted by the secrets of nature, and should have been led to grapple with some of the great questions which the contemplation of the visible universe suggests. There can therefore be no need of attempting to trace the impulse by which the Greeks were now carried toward such researches, to a foreign origin. But it is an opinion which has found many advocates, that they were indebted to their widening intercourse with other nations, particularly with Egypt, Phœnicia, and the interior of Asia, for several of the views and doctrines which were fundamental or prominent parts of their earlier philosophical systems. The result, however, of the maturest investigation, seems to show that there is no sufficient ground even for this conjecture.[574] On the other hand, it is clear that the first philosophers were not wholly independent of the earlier intellectual efforts of their own countrymen, and that, perhaps unconsciously, they derived the form, if not, in part at least, the substance of their speculations, from the old theogonies and cosmogonies.[575]

The successive evolutions of the Pantheistic principle, and its final renunciation by Anaxagoras, are thus succinctly described by Mr. Thirlwall: “Thales evolved his world out of a single simple substance, (_water_) to which he attributed the power of passing spontaneously through the various transformations necessary for the multiplicity of natural productions. But he does not seem to have attempted accurately to define the nature of these transformations. And so most of his successors, who set out from a similar hypothesis, contented themselves with some vague notions, or phrases, about the successive expansions or contractions of the original substance. But as the contemplation of animal life had led Anaximenes to adopt _air_ as the basis of his system, a later philosopher, Diogenes of Apollonia, carried this analogy a step further, and regarded the universe as issuing from an intelligent principle, by which it was at once vivified and ordered—a rational, as well as sensitive soul—still without recognizing any distinction between matter and mind. Much earlier, however, Anaximander of Miletus, who flourished not long after Thales, and is generally considered as his immediate disciple, seems to have been struck by the difficulty of accounting for the changes which a simple substance must be supposed to undergo, in order to produce an infinite variety of beings. He found it easier, in conformity with some of the ancient cosmogonies, to conceive the primitive state of the universe as a vast chaos, for which he had no other name than the infinite,—containing all the elements out of which the world was to be constructed, by a process of separation and combination, which, however, he considered as the result of a motion, not impressed on it from without, but inherent in the mass. This hypothesis, which tended to give an entirely new direction to the speculations of the school, seems to have been treated with a neglect which it is difficult to explain, and which has raised a suspicion that some less celebrated names may have dropped out of the list of the Ionian philosophers. But a century after Anaximander, Anaxagoras of Clazomenæ revived his doctrine with some very fanciful additions, and one very important change. He combined the principle of Anaximander with that of his contemporary Diogenes, and acknowledged a supreme mind, distinct from the chaos to which it imparted motion, form, and order. The Pantheistic systems of the Ionian school were only independent of the popular creed, and did not exclude it. The language of Thales and Heraclitus, who declared that the universe was full of gods, left room for all the fictions of the received mythology, and might even add new fervour to the superstition of the vulgar. But the system of Anaxagoras seems to have been felt to be almost irreconcilable with the prevailing opinions, and hence, as we shall find, drew upon him hatred and persecution.”[576]

In confirmation of the opinions expressed towards the close of this Lecture, I cannot refrain from subjoining the following moral estimate of the doctrine of two principles: it is from F. von Schlegel’s Treatise, before alluded to, on the Language and Wisdom of the Indians. “Pantheism inevitably destroys the distinction between good and evil, however strenuously its advocates may contend in words against this reproach; the doctrine of emanation depresses the moral freedom of the will by the idea of an infinite degree of innate guilt, and the belief that every being is predestined to crime and misery; the system of two principles, and the warfare between good and evil, holds the middle place between these extremes: it becomes, itself, a powerful incentive to a similar contest, and a source of the purest morality.”[577]

B.

_Hebrew Names for the Evil Spirit._

The mere fact, that no proper names for the Evil Spirit exist in the Hebrew language, except such as are of Apocryphal or Rabbinical creation, is in itself a sufficient proof of the late and unscriptural origin of the belief in his existence. A glance at an English concordance will make it evident, that the word “Devil,” in the singular number, does not occur in our authorized translation of the Hebrew Scriptures. It is found in the plural in Lev. xvii. 7, 2 Chron. xi. 15, Deut. xxxii. 17, Ps. cvi. 37; and in none of these instances can it for a moment be supposed that the original word, if used in the singular, would represent any idea corresponding to the popular notion of the Devil; indeed, when the Rabbinical writers needed a name for the expression of this idea, they had recourse to other terms than those which are found in the verses just cited. In the two latter passages, the Hebrew word is שׁדים, literally, _mighty beings_; it clearly denotes _false gods_, and probably designates them by the title applied to them by their votaries; for the name is evidently not contemptuous, and is indeed radically the same which was applied by the Israelites to Jehovah, and receives in our version the translation _Almighty_. In the two former passages, the word is שׂעירים, literally, _goats_, and evidently denotes the heathen deities, typified under the form of that animal; especially, we may suppose, the Egyptian Pan, worshipped in the Mendesian nome,[578] with rites the most abominable. In Isaiah xiii. 21, the common translation renders the same word _satyrs_.

Several names of evil spirits occur in the Talmudical writings: and among them are two which are appropriated to the Satanic chief, viz., סמאל, _Samael_; and אשמדי, _Asmodæus_. The latter is the term by which the evil spirit is designated in Tobit iii. 8: and it would be easy to show, by a multitude of passages, that the being to whom both these names were given corresponded to the “Devil” of modern theology, as far as correspondence can be affirmed to exist between any two creations of the imagination. Thus we are told, in words which also show the use of the word _Satan_ as a generic rather than a proper name; “The wicked angel Samael is prince of _all the Satans_,” סמאל הרשע ראש כל השטנים הוא.[579] Again, Jehovah is represented as saying to him, under his title of Angel of Death (מלאך המות) “I have made thee Ruler of the world,” שעשיתי איתך קוזמוקרטור (κοσμοκράτορα).[580] The same supremacy is attributed to this being under his other name. Thus it is said, that when Solomon became too much elated by his prosperity, there was sent to him “Asmodæus, the Prince of evil spirits,” אשמדיי מלכא דשדים.[581] And with slight variation of phrase he is described as “the devil Asmodæus, the Prince of Spirits,” שידא אשמדון רבהון דרוחתא. [582] Buxtorf identifies Samael and Asmodæus, on the authority of R. Elias; he says, “Eundem esse _Asmodæum_, qui alio nomine Rabbinis dicitur _Samael_.”[583] And Bertholdt again identifies this being with the enemy of the Gospel described in 2 Cor. iv. 4, as ὁ θεὸς τοῦ αἰῶνος τούτου; and in John xiv. 30, as ὁ τοῦ κόσμου [τούτου] ἄρχων: after quoting these phrases, he says “Apud Targumistas et Rabbinos occurrit sub nomine סמאל _Samael_.”[584]

The idea then of which we are in search, is unquestionably of frequent occurrence among the Talmudists. In expressing it they have recourse to new names not found in the Canonical writings. Surely a strong presumption arises, that the Hebrew Scriptures did not furnish them with the means of designating the personage about whom they discoursed.

C.

_The parallel Passages in the Epistles of Jude and 2 Peter._

For the sake of those readers of the English Scriptures who may not have noticed the remarkable similarity between the Epistle of Jude, and the second chapter of the second Epistle of Peter, I subjoin a comparison of the two. A reference to the Greek Testament will make it evident, that the parallelism is fairly exhibited in our common translation. My present purpose, at least, will be sufficiently answered by taking the citations thence.

2 Peter ii. Jude.

1 ... There shall be false teachers 4. For there are certain men crept among you, who privily shall bring in unawares, who were before of old in damnable heresies, even denying ordained to this condemnation, the Lord that bought them, and ungodly men, turning the grace of bring upon themselves swift our God into lasciviousness, and destruction. denying the only Lord God, and our 3. And through covetousness shall Lord Jesus Christ. they with feigned words make merchandise of you: whose judgment now of a long time lingereth not, and their damnation slumbereth not.

4. For if God spared not the angels 6. And the angels which kept not that sinned, but cast them down to their first estate, but left their hell, and delivered them into own habitation, he hath reserved in chains of darkness, to be reserved everlasting chains under darkness unto judgment: unto the judgment of the great day.

6. And turning the cities of Sodom 7. Even as Sodom and Gomorrah, and and Gomorrah into ashes, condemned the cities about them in like them with an overthrow, making them manner, giving themselves over to an ensample unto those that after fornication, and going after should live ungodly: strange flesh, are set forth for an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire.

10. But chiefly them that walk 8. Likewise also these filthy after the flesh in the lust of dreamers defile the flesh, despise uncleanness, and despise dominion, and speak evil of government. Presumptuous are they, dignities. self-willed, they are not afraid to speak evil of dignities.

11. Whereas angels, which are 9. Yet Michael the archangel, when greater in power and might, bring contending with the Devil he not railing accusation against them disputed about the body of Moses, before the Lord. durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord rebuke thee.

12. But these, as natural brute 10. But these speak evil of those beasts, made to be taken and things which they know not: but destroyed, speak evil of the things what they know naturally, as brute that they understand not; and shall beasts, in those things they utterly perish in their own corrupt themselves. corruption.

13 ... Spots they are and 12. These are spots in your feasts blemishes, sporting themselves with of charity, when they feast with their own deceivings while they you, feeding themselves without feast with you. fear.

17. These are wells without water, 12. Clouds they are without water, clouds that are carried with a carried about of winds;... tempest; to whom the mist of 13. ... Wandering stars, to whom is darkness is reserved for ever. reserved the blackness of darkness for ever.

18. For when they speak great 16. These are murmurers, swelling words of vanity, they complainers, walking after their allure through the lusts of the own lusts; and their mouth speaketh flesh, through much wantonness, great swelling words, having men’s those that were clean escaped from persons in admiration because of them who live in error. advantage.

Very few readers, it is probable, will rise from the examination of this parallelism, without the persuasion, that the writings betraying it cannot be independent productions; and without amazement at the opinion of Lardner, that “the similitude of the subject might produce,” to such extent, “a resemblance of style. The design,” he continues, “of St. Peter and St. Jude was to condemn some loose and erroneous Christians, and to caution others against them. When speaking of the same sort of persons, their style and figures of speech would have a great agreement.”[585] Lardner appears to shrink from attributing to the inspired St. Jude (supposing him to be the later writer) either plagiarism or a needless repetition of instruction.[586] But why should his inspiration deter him from such an act? It rather affords, as Michaelis observes, a conclusive reason for ascribing it to him. “For the Holy Ghost,” this author suggests, “certainly knew, while he was dictating the Epistle to St. Jude, that an Epistle of St. Peter, of a like import, already existed. And if the Holy Ghost, notwithstanding this knowledge, still thought that an Epistle of St. Jude was not unnecessary, why shall we suppose that St. Jude himself would have been prevented from writing by the same knowledge?”[587] This argument of the learned German certainly renders it unnecessary to _doubt_, with the scrupulous Lardner, whether St. Jude would copy from a fellow-labourer’s letter: but then, it also renders it unnecessary to _believe_ this: for with the perfect familiarity which the _Holy Ghost_ possessed (“while dictating”) with the previous epistle of Peter, there was no occasion whatever for _St. Jude_ to have the knowledge too. Indeed so completely might any degree of parallelism be explained in this way, that no conceivable phenomena of agreement would furnish the slightest proof that the one writer had seen the production of the other.

For some inscrutable reasons, however, all the ablest theologians seem to have declined this easy solution, by appeal to the memory of the Holy Ghost; and to have been convinced that some method, simply human, must be sought, to account for the accordance between these two epistles. Some have supposed, with Bishop Sherlock, that both authors drew their materials from a common source, the imagery and phraseology of which they freely used. But as Eichhorn has well observed, “Bare conjecture is an insufficient support for this supposition; in the absence of all trace of any document giving plausibility to the suggestion, by disclosing a source in common relation with the corresponding passages of the two epistles.”[588] If this explanation be untenable, nothing remains but to conclude that one of the writers copied from the other; and this, accordingly, has been the general opinion of theologians. This, however, is the only point on which critics are agreed: for when the question is proposed, whether St. Peter or St. Jude were the original writer, it is curious to observe the confidence with which each of the two answers may be returned, and the opposite views which may be taken of the considerations affecting the decision. In the absence of all external evidence, the intrinsic character of the two compositions must determine our reply: and the chief impression which results from a comparison of them is, that St. Jude has expressed his ideas with more succinctness and unity; St. Peter with more vagueness and amplification. Appealing to this circumstance, Dr. Hug says, “the critic cannot fail to perceive which was the original;” “it is evident that the passages of Peter are periphrases and amplifications;” “the _originality of Jude is clear_ from the comparison of both authors, and especially from the language;” “Peter had, therefore, the Epistle of Jude before him, and in his own manner applied it to his purposes.”[589] Michaelis, however,—who rejects the Epistle of Jude, and says that, “judging by its contents,” we “have no inducement to believe it a sacred and divine work,”—ventures on the following confident statements: “No doubt can be made, that the second Epistle of St. Peter was, in respect to the Epistle of St. Jude, the original and not the copy:” “with respect to the date of this (Jude’s) Epistle, _all that I am able to assert_ is, that it was written _after_ the second Epistle of St. Peter;” “this appears from a comparison of the two, which are so similar to each other both in sentiments and in expressions, as no two epistles could well be, unless the author of the one had read the epistle of the other. It is evident therefore that St. Jude borrowed from St. Peter both expressions and arguments, to which he himself has made some few additions.”[590]

After reading these positive statements on either side, we are struck with the justice of the following remark of Eichhorn’s: referring to the differences between the two epistles in respect to their style, he says: “These phenomena admit of a twofold explanation. Peter might be regarded as the original and Jude as the copy; inasmuch as, in the process of revision, a writing may become more perfect in the expression and disposition of the ideas: the superfluities will naturally be retrenched, the march of the thoughts become quicker, the diction more choice; the copyist having the matter all before him, and being able to direct his attention exclusively to the form which it shall assume. But with just as much truth we might turn round and say,—Jude was the original, whom Peter illustrated, amplified, and paraphrased. In the process, the style lost its unity, its compactness, its clear outline: the paraphrast interrupted the succession of thoughts with several foreign ideas; and the exposition of the subject thus became more obscure, prolix, and disorderly. Who can decide between these two possibilities?”

This acute author does not, however, consider the problem of impossible solution. The suspense in which its difficulty holds us, continues, he observes, “only so long as we confine ourselves merely to a mutual comparison of the parallel passages. If we look at them in their relation to the whole of St. Peter’s second epistle, we find a reason for concluding that Jude is original, Peter the copyist. The author of the _second chapter_ of Peter does not stand, as a writer, on his own ground: if he did, his mode of writing would be the same as in the _first and third chapters_, which, however, is not the case. It is clear that we cannot apply to Jude this test of originality, derived from consistency of style; for we possess no other composition of his, with which to compare his epistle. Yet there is a compactness and unity in his writing, from which its independent character may be inferred. Whoever is content to take up the thoughts of others, yet not without introducing something of his own, is easily drawn aside by accessory ideas; by which the definite outline of a composition is lost. This is by no means the case in the epistle of Jude.”[591]

It is generally admitted, then, that these two productions, as far as their topics coincide, constitute but one authority: and we shall follow, I think, the most judicious criticism, if we assign that authority, whatever it may be, to the epistle of Jude. Whence, then, did he derive his knowledge of such circumstances as those which are mentioned in the sixth and ninth verses, respecting “the angels which kept not their first estate,” and “Michael the archangel contending with the Devil” “about the body of Moses?” There are but three supposable sources; immediate personal inspiration; the Hebrew Scriptures; or some non-canonical and unauthoritative work.

The first of these suppositions I do not find to be maintained by any creditable theological writer; and it may be dismissed with the following remarks of Michaelis:—“The dispute between Michael and the Devil about the body of Moses, has by no means the appearance of a true history: and the author of our epistle has not even hinted that he knew it to be true by the aid of Divine inspiration, or that he distinguished it from other Jewish traditions. On the contrary, he has introduced it as part of a story, with which his readers were already acquainted: he does not appear to have had any other authority for it, than they themselves had: nor does the part which he has quoted at all imply, either that he himself doubted, or that he wished his readers should doubt, of the other parts of it.”[592]

The second supposition, that the writer makes no allusion, on these points of celestial history, to any thing beyond the Old Testament, is so universally regarded as untenable, that even Lardner’s great authority will hardly avail to procure it any further attention. In what part of the Hebrew Scriptures St. Jude obtained his information respecting the fallen angels, Lardner, while deploring a like omission on the part of his predecessors, has neglected to explain. And when, in order to connect the story of Michael and the Devil with Zach. iii. 1-3, he is obliged to construe “_the body of Moses_,” into _the Israelitish people_, it surely becomes evident that the consideration of this passage never fully engaged his incomparable judgment.[593] Happily, Lardner’s is a reputation of which there is no need to be economical: and even theological opponents cannot apply to him the description which, with some truth and more severity, they have given of Mr. Wakefield, as a “scholar, who was great among Unitarians, but not among scholars:”—

“Quem bis terque bonum cum risu miror; et idem
Indignor, quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus?”

There remains, then, but the third supposition, that St. Jude derived these notices of the supernatural world from some apocryphal and traditional work. And we need the less scruple to admit this, as he himself intimates the fact, in the fourteenth verse, where he refers to the _Book of Enoch_. This work professes to be extant in the Æthiopic language; and the copies of it contain the passage cited by St. Jude: and whatever doubts may attach to Bishop Lawrance’s opinion, that we have it substantially as it was originally written shortly before the time of Christ, the citations from the “Book of Enoch,” by Syncellus, and the references to it by both Greek and Latin Fathers, are too numerous and ancient, to leave it questionable that such a work existed, and was in use not long after the Christian era, and probably before. Hug gives this account of it:—“The Book of Enoch, in fact, was full of Jewish, Theurgical, and Magical reveries, as indeed the character of the person, to whom this writing was ascribed, required it to be. According to Eupolemus, he is said to have been the inventor of Astrology, or rather a scholar of the Angels in this science, who initiated him into the mysteries of it; for he had at one time obtained a mission to the Angels, on which occasion he probably received their instruction. But it did not suffice, that he was acquainted with the course of the planets, the position of the Heavens, and their signification; but he likewise, as the Jews and other Easterns maintained, learned in addition from the heavenly natures, the art of prognostication, characters, offerings, purifications, lustrations, and other things of this description, which he imparted to mankind. According to these ideas, which were entertained of him far and wide among Jews, Arabians, and others, we can easily determine, to what sort of literature his writings must belong. The remains of it, which we find in the Church-Fathers also, do not deceive this expectation.”[594]

Though this is the only Apocryphal production to which St. Jude refers by name, Origen informs us, in a passage already cited, that the adventure between Michael and the Devil was taken from a work entitled Ἀνάληψις or Ἀνάβασις τοῦ Μωσέως. “From a comparison of the relation in this book with St. Jude’s quotation,” says Michaelis, “he was thoroughly persuaded, that it was the book from which St. Jude quoted. This he asserts without the least hesitation: and in consequence of this persuasion, he himself has quoted the Assumption of Moses, as a work of authority, in proof of the temptation of Adam and Eve by the Devil. But as he has quoted it merely for this purpose, he has given us only an imperfect account of what this book contained, relative to the dispute about the body of Moses. One circumstance, however, he has mentioned, which is not found in the epistle of St. Jude, namely, that Michael reproached the Devil with having possessed the serpent which seduced Eve. In what manner this circumstance is connected with the dispute about the body of Moses will appear from the following consideration. The Jews imagined the person of Moses was so holy, that God could find no reason for permitting him to die: and that nothing but the sin committed by Adam and Eve in paradise, which brought death into the world, was the cause why Moses did not live for ever. The same notions they entertained of some other very holy persons, for instance of Isai, who, they say, was delivered to the angel of death, merely on account of the sins of our first parents, though he himself did not deserve to die. Now in the dispute between Michael and the Devil about Moses, the Devil was the accuser, and demanded the death of Moses. Michael therefore replied to him, that he himself was the cause of that sin, which alone could occasion the death of Moses. How very little such notions as these agree, either with the Christian theology, or with Moses’ own writings, it is unnecessary for me to declare.”[595]

The direct testimony of Origen should be taken in connexion with the well-known fact, that this story of Michael and the Devil is one of the standing traditions of the Jewish people; the invention of a remote antiquity; and repeated ever since by a multitude of Rabbinical writers. A specimen of the legend may be found by the curious in the section of Michaelis, from which I have quoted the foregoing passage. With respect to the reception which we must give to such an alleged fact, the same author observes—“It lies without the circle of human experience; and therefore it cannot be attested by any man, unless he has either divine inspiration, or has intercourse with beings of a superior order. Consequently, whoever was the author of the apocryphal book, from which the quotation was made, his account cannot possibly command assent.”[596] This remark evidently applies, not only to the story of Michael, but to the tradition of the Fallen Angels; which, there is every reason to believe, must have been derived from a like apocryphal source; especially as we have the express assurance of Tertullian, that the Book of Enoch treated of the nature, offices, and fate of fallen Beings.[597]

This author, then, has unquestionably “made use of Jewish materials, which have no existence but in apocryphal books,”[598] and therefore no claim on our belief. “I know of no other method of vindicating the quotation,” says Michaelis, “than by supposing that St. Jude considered the whole story, not as a real fact, which either he himself believed, or which he required his readers to believe, but merely as an instructive fable, which served to illustrate the doctrine which he himself inculcated, that we ought not to speak evil of dignities.”[599] Hug resorts to an explanation of this kind; and conceives that St. Jude employs apocryphal weapons of persuasion, as best adapted to confound the Heretics whom he assailed.[600] It may be so: but if his illustrations and examples from the supernatural world be thus destitute of intrinsic authority and truth, and _we must be heretics before we can feel their force_, what becomes of the _orthodox doctrine_ of fallen Angels?

------------------------------------

Footnotes for Lecture XI.

Footnote 542:

See Note A.

Footnote 543:

Genesis iii. 1.

Footnote 544:

Genesis iii. 14, 15.

Footnote 545:

Jos. Ant. lib. i. c. 1.

Footnote 546:

The first trace of this fiction presents itself in the Apocryphal book
of the Wisdom of Solomon, ii. 24; “Nevertheless, through envy of the
Devil, came death into the world.” How difficult it appeared, even to
the learned and imaginative Origen, to establish this interpretation
on any sound scriptural authority, may be seen in the fact, that he
can quote in its behalf nothing better than an unknown Jewish work in
the Greek language, entitled Ἀνάληψις τοῦ Μωσέως. In Rufinus’s version
of Origen’s “Principles,” occurs the following passage: “In Genesi
serpens Evam seduxisse describitur; de quo in Ascensione Möysi, cujus
libelli meminit in epistolâ suâ Apostolus Judas, Michaël archangelus
cum Diabolo disputans de corpore Möysi, ait, _a Diabolo inspiratum
serpentem_, causam exstitisse prævaricationis Adæ et Evæ.”—De Princip.
lib. iii. c. 2. Though the learned Father does not hesitate to cite
this book, for a theological purpose, he does not inform us of the
grounds on which he was satisfied to invest it with divine authority.

Footnote 547:

Genesis iii. 16-19.

Footnote 548:

Rom. v. 12-20; 1 Cor. xv. 21, 22; 1 Tim. ii. 14.

Footnote 549:

Paraphrase on Romans. Note on v. 12. See also Whitby in loc., to whom
Mr. Locke refers.

Footnote 550:

See Rom. i. 16; ii. 29; and iii. 9-23.

Footnote 551:

Genesis iii. 15.

Footnote 552:

Dr. T. Sherlock’s Six Discourses on Prophecy, p. 80; as quoted in Mr.
Wellbeloved’s excellent note on the passage.

Footnote 553:

See Note B.

Footnote 554:

1 Samuel xxix. 4.

Footnote 555:

1 Kings xi. 25.

Footnote 556:

Numb. xxii. 22.

Footnote 557:

1 Tim. i. 20.

Footnote 558:

שׁטן (1.) _adversarius_; in antiquiori Hebraismo homo, ut in 1 Sam.
xxix. 4; 2 Sam. xix. 23; 1 Reg. v. 4; xi. 14; xxiii. 25: in sequiori,
post exilium Babylonicum, angelus malus sive _diabolus_, qui κατ’
ἐξοχὴν _Satan_ vocatur, Ps. cix. 6; Zach. iii. 1, 2; 1 Chron. xxi. 1.
(2.) _circuitor_, qui civium motus observat; secundum quosdam, Hiob.
i. 6, 8; ii. 1.”—_Joh. Simonis Lex. Hebr. in verb._

In Ps. cix. 6, and Zach. iii. 1, 2, there is, however, no reason to
suppose that the word is used as a proper name. The former of the two
passages is best rendered, “Let _an accuser_ stand at his right hand:”
and in explanation of the latter, Archbishop Newcome cites the
following note from Dr. Blayney; “It appears to me most probable, that
by Satan, or the Adversary, is here meant the adversaries of the
Jewish nation in a body, or perhaps some leading person among them,
Sanballat for instance, who strenuously opposed the rebuilding of the
temple, and of course the restoration of the service of the sanctuary,
and the reestablishment of Joshua in the exercise of his sacerdotal
ministry.”—_Newcome’s Minor Prophets, in loc._

Footnote 559:

1 Chron. xxi. 1.

Footnote 560:

2 Sam. xxiv. 1.

Footnote 561:

Wisd. ii. 24; Tobit iii. 8.

Footnote 562:

On entering the creed of the Jews, this doctrine underwent another
change, of which many traces are to be found in all their subsequent
writings, and which throws light on several passages of the New
Testament. It is thus stated by Dr. D. F. Strauss: “When that Satan
who appears in the Persian religion as a wicked being inimical to
mankind, passed into the Jewish faith, his character was accommodated
to the Hebrew peculiarity, which confined to the people of Israel all
that is good and worthy of humanity; and he was regarded as at once
the special enemy of their nation, and the Lord of their Gentile foes.
The interests of the Jewish people becoming concentrated in the person
of the Messiah, it was natural that the Satan should be conceived of
as the personal opponent of the Messiah.” “Accordingly,” adds this
writer, “in the New Testament the idea of Jesus as the Messiah
everywhere involves that of Satan as the adversary of his person and
work.”[b] We may well object to the unqualified generalization
comprised in this last remark, and therefore to many of the author’s
particular applications of it; and especially we must regard as
unsuccessful his attempt to destroy the historical character of the
narrative of our Lord’s temptation; but no judicious interpreter will
wholly neglect the suggestion which the passage contains.

Footnote b:

Das Leben Jesu kritisch bearbeitet, § 55.

Footnote 563:

Jude 6; 2 Pet. ii. 4.

Footnote 564:

See Note C.

Footnote 565:

Mr. Stowell, in his Lecture on the Personality and Agency of Satan
(pp. 703, 704), intimates that probably no visible form presented
itself to Jesus: and though strongly, and as it appears to me
reasonably, objecting to the interpretation which resolves the whole
temptation into a _vision_, he supposes, with more latitude than
consistency of explanation, that the Devil “showed” to our Lord all
the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them,—not really and
objectively,—but by means of “a glowing though _scenical
representation_.” The Lecturer does not state whether he conceives the
solicitations of Satan to have been conveyed by the method of real and
organic _talking_: but if, in the peculiar style of this narrative,
the Tempter can be described as “_showing_” things without the
presence of any visible objects, he may be described as “_saying_”
things without the presence of any audible sounds. English orthodoxy,
in conformity with the gross and hard materialism which pervades it,
seems to have encouraged the idea, that all preternatural
communications, whether diabolic or divine, with the human mind, must
be made by articulate noises or sensible images; that the action of
spirit on spirit is inconceivable; and a _revelation in silence and
darkness a thing impossible_. Adverting to this prejudice, the
admirable Barclay says, “We must not think his” (Abraham’s) “faith was
built upon his outward senses, but proceeded from the secret
persuasion of God’s spirit in his heart;”—“by which many times faith
is begotten and strengthened without any of these outward and visible
helps; as we may observe in many passages of the Holy Scriptures,
where it is only mentioned, ‘_And God said_,’ &c., ‘_And the word of
the Lord came_’ unto such and such, ‘_saying_,’ &c. But if any one
should pertinaciously affirm, _that this did import an outward audible
voice to the carnal ear_, I would gladly know, what other argument
such an one could bring, for this his affirmation, saving his own
simple conjecture. It is said indeed, ‘_The Spirit witnesseth with our
spirit_;’ but not to our outward ears, Rom. viii. 16. And seeing the
Spirit of God is within us, and not without us only, it speaks to our
spiritual, and not to our bodily ear. Therefore I see no reason, where
it’s so often said in Scripture, ‘_The Spirit said_,’ ‘_moved_,’
‘_hindered_,’ ‘_called_,’ such or such a one, to _do_ or _forbear_
such or such a thing, that any have to conclude, that this was not an
inward voice to the ear of the soul, rather than an outward voice to
the bodily ear. If any be otherwise minded, let them, if they can,
produce their arguments, and we may further consider of
them.”—_Barclay’s Apology for the true Christian Divinity, Prop. II._

Footnote 566:

Mr. Stowell’s Lecture, p. 713.

Footnote 567:

Ibid. p. 695.

Footnote 568:

John viii. 42, 47.

Footnote 569:

John x. 14, 27.

Footnote 570:

John vi. 44.

Footnote 571:

Οἱ δὲ νομίζουσι Διὶ μὲν, ἐπὶ τὰ ὑψηλότατα τῶν οὐρέων ἀναβαίνοντες,
θυσίας ἔρδειν, τὸν κύκλον πάντα τοῦ οὐρανοῦ Δία καλέοντες. i. 131.

Footnote 572: