Robert Richardson Sin--A Dialogue (1839)

SIN--A DIALOGUE.

      IT was at that delightful season when the soul of the poet is inspired with song, and the youthful heart with love, that two friends set forth from the hospitable mansion of Paternus to take a morning walk--One of them, whom we shall denominate Philander, was a little past the prime of life. A few grey hairs besprinkled his dark locks, but his tall and finely-formed figure still possessed the elasticity of youth; and while Time had traced upon his noble countenance some lines of thought or sorrow, these were almost concealed by the brighter tints of Christian hope and resignation. Eugenio, his companion, was many years his junior, and though the ardor of an unquenched zeal and the brilliancy of an unrepressed imagination lighted up his visage, he was endeared to Philander by many solid traits of character, and by a congeniality of mind and of pursuits.

      Admiring the agreeable prospects presented to the eye of taste from various points as they ascended the slow-rising hills or climbed the steep, and descanting upon the beauty, immensity, and variety of the works of God, they came at length to the brow of a lofty eminence, where a beautiful grove overshadowed with its fresh and rich foliage the family cemetery of Paternus. Here, seated upon a grassy knoll from which the sun's first rays had already sipped the drops of dew, they continued their conversation.

      Eugenio. How charmingly the hour harmonizes with the season! The grateful coolness of the morning breeze invigorates the frame, while the vernal influences stir the blood and fill the heart with a thousand delightful fancies. All nature feels the enchantment, from man the guilty monarch of these wide-spread demesnes, to the innocent Thrush which on yonder topmost spray gladdens his ears with its varied melody, as it hails at once the return of the day and of the year.

      Philander. It is truly a pleasant time. And this spot is to me most agreeable. How fine a view it affords of the rich valley below, and of that romantic stream which after pursuing a straight course directly north more than half a mile, is turned suddenly to the south, and as though it sued for freedom, washes the feet of those rock-ribbed hills by which [107] it is imprisoned. But there are associations connected with this place of a more solemn and interesting kind. Around me are the tombs of many dear departed ones, with whom I have been long and intimately acquainted. Alas! how soon has this little cemetery become a crowded mansion--too small for pale Death's increasing family. Here have I seen entombed infancy robed in its beautiful innocence; childhood with its joys and tears; youth with its high hopes and budding charms, and age with its stores of knowledge and experience. And it has been to me a melancholy pleasure to hold converse with them here in the deep communings of the memory and the affections.

      Eugenio. I can enter into your feelings; for there are some buried here with whom I also had formed an agreeable acquaintance. But the turn which these tokens of mortality have given to our conversation reminds me how many monitors we have of human ills. How often do they cast a shade of gloom over our happiest hours, as the swift rising cloud darkens the brightest day of spring!

      Philander. But they germinate in us, if we properly receive their teachings, the seeds of wisdom, as the showers of spring give birth to the fruitage of summer. They warn us of the terrible effects and consequences of that mysterious influence, which we have agreed to call SIN: a little word, indeed. but it has a great and extensive meaning.

      Eugenio. This is a subject upon which I have often wished to speak with you. I confess it seems to me as though I had very imperfect conceptions of the virulence of that contagion which seems to hare spread throughout the universe, and so to have desolated our world that there is no place which may not be truly called Aceldama or Golgotha.

      Philander. As the dark shades of night fly before the golden chariot of the sun, and we cannot overtake them; so does this topic, obscure and implicated, seem to evade elucidation and to mock pursuit. Yet, to continue the figure, as night, though we cannot outstrip its retreating swiftness, can nevertheless suddenly overshadow us with its dusky wings, this singular principle can, in like manner, overwhelm us with its insidious and wide-spreading power. But, alas! even our consciousness of its presence fails to give us ability to grasp it. Still, it is a subject of which we may learn something, for this very characteristic serves to give us some idea of its nature. Nay, it is one of which we should learn as much as we can; for among the lessons of instruction presented to the world in that best of books, the Bible, the knowledge of sin is not the least important.

      Eugenio. We estimate every thing by comparison. Hence, while we regard some things as remarkable for weakness, insignificance, and [108] shortness of life; others appear to us no less so for power, magnitude, and durability. How small the animalculæ in a drop of water! How evanescent the ephemera, the offspring of a morning sunbeam, which attains to maturity at noon, and dies of old age in the evening! How mighty, on the other hand, the lion; how great the strength and longevity of the elephant! What is the slender reed, born of an April shower, trembling in the breeze, or trodden under foot, to the gigantic oak, the tardy product of a hundred years, lifting itself towards the heavens, and capable of resisting the storms of ages! Thus the darkness which you have just employed as an illustration of sin, conveys a lively idea of its character. Darkness is one of those wonderful and mysterious creations. It is not a mere negative. It is a real existence, for it may be rendered tangible, as in Egypt. And how ancient its dominion! Before the seas or rivers were; before the hills or mountains were brought forth, it reigned over the vast abyss unrivalled and alone. Nor is its dynasty terminated; for, to this hour, though a partner be admitted to the throne, it retains one half the sovereignty. How astonishing, too, its faculty of pervading every thing! So great is its tenuity that it enters every abode--the palace of the monarch and the cottage of the peasant. Light can be excluded by closing the shutters, as knowledge its antitype may be by closing the understanding; but darkness, the type of ignorance, cannot be shut out.

      Philander. We are supplied with another illustration of our subject in the attraction of gravitation. This, too, existed in the beginning of the works of God, and is one of the most powerful and penetrating influences with which we are acquainted. It brings to the ground a leaf from the oak, and the oak itself with its majestic trunk and spreading boughs, when smitten by the woodman's axe. Nay, it extends its influences to the heavenly bodies, and from the sue himself even to the utmost verge of this vast universe, exerts its unspent energies.

      Now were I to express in general terms my conceptions of this subject, I should say that sin is one of these strange influences, so permanent, so powerful, and so penetrating. It existed in the beginning of the creation of God, before his works of old. It overcame angels and archangels, though great in power and might, and precipitated them from the bright seats of glory in the heavens, down to the dreary regions of sorrow and perdition. There it chained them with darkness, and holds them in their melancholy prison-house until the day of judgment, when it will cast them into the everlasting fire. It invaded Eden also--entered the Paradise of man, as it had once intruded into the Paradise of God; and tried its power over men, as it had formerly over angels. Its reign, set up upon earth, continues to the present day. [109] It has extended its influence far and wide--has entered into every heart as darkness enters into every habitation. The dreadful consequences have been experienced by all in pain, sickness, sorrow, fear, despair, or death. It is the "king of terrors" who permits the conquerors of the world to triumph by the death of their enemies: he reserves it to himself to conquer the conqueror. The clasping arms of maternal love cannot shield the tender infant from his shaft, nor can the hoary sage evade his machinations by his wisdom. Insatiate Death knocks as readily at the portals of the royal palace, as at the cottage of the peasant. In short, the city and the country have been infected: the continents and the islands have caught the contagion; and were men even to set forth upon the wide ocean to pillage health and life from the balmy gales, the storm and tempest would there punish the piracy, and the unrelenting angel of destruction wreak his vengeance. [110]

      Eugenio. How extensive the influence and how fatal the workings of this mysterious power! Yet this conviction seems to me only to augment the obscurity in which it is involved. Is it not possible to take a nearer view, and by an analysis of its nature to acquire a more accurate knowledge of it? [149]

      Philander. Analytical inquiry into the mature, origin, and effects of sin, can of itself be of but little practical utility; nor can mere verbal definitions and distinctions supply us with a true knowledge of the subject. This can be learned only from observation and experience. Nevertheless a just theory may, like the frame-work of a building, afford points to which the results of observation may be suitably applied.

      The Apostle John in his general epistle gives us a partial definition of sin by the synonyme unrighteousness (1 John v. 17). But when he says that "SIN IS THE TRANSGRESSION OF THE LAW" (1 John iii. 4), he supplies us with one which is at once concise and full, clear and philosophical. He here introduces to our notice law as necessarily antecedent; and therefore, in an investigation of the subject, this first demands attention. Law is a rule of action established by rightful authority. It prescribes the proper boundaries, and imposes necessary restraints; or, it describes the circle in which every thing may revolve without doing or suffering injury. Hence when any being oversteps the line by which law has circumscribed his nature, or adjusted his relations, the immediate effect is, that he comes into a dangerous and perhaps fatal collision with others. When this disregard is shown to divine law, publicly promulged, it constitutes sin. Yet this term may be applied at least analogically to aberrations from laws, neither oral nor written, but deduced from certain premises by necessary implication.

      Man, as the subject of divine law, is to be regarded as sustaining various relations, and possessing in himself different natures. He enjoys in common with inferior tribes, an animal constitution or corporeal frame, which subjects him to the operation of some of the laws by which inert matter is governed, as well as of those which belong to this peculiar animal organization itself. To these he finds it his happiness to submit; nor can he, without injury, act in derogation of them. Should he disregard the law of gravity, by which all matter is controlled, and leap from a precipice, he suffers for his temerity in the wounds and bruises he receives. And if, when shivering with cold, he draws too near the fire and exposes the delicate tissues which compose his body to a degree of heat greater than the laws of their organization enable them to bear, he pays the penalty in the pain and suffering consequent upon his imprudence. In these instances he may from analogy be said to sin against or transgress the laws of his animal constitution. He does so also, indeed, whenever he is guilty of intemperance or excess in the indulgence of natural desires. For so great is the intimacy between man's corporeal, moral, and intellectual [150] natures, that excess affects them all in a greater or less degree. But errors of this character are to be classed primarily as sins against the MORAL nature of man. It is to these that the term sins legitimately belongs. The Divine Being has published no laws for the animal constitution. These we ascertain by our own observation and experience. It is to the moral and intellectual natures of man that he has addressed his written code. So that sin, in its true scriptural import, denotes a transgression of the written law of God. And this law has for its object so to direct and restrain the powers and faculties of man, that they may contribute to his best interests and greatest happiness.

      Eugenio. Divine law, then, is not, as some imagine, a mere arbitrary expression of authority, but a rule of action precisely adapted to the nature or natures of that which is the subject of it. In fact, it is, as you observe, that which defines the nature of every being, and marks out the boundaries within which its powers may be safely exercised. We can form no conception of any thing being without a nature, and a nature necessarily implies laws by which it is regulated and circumscribed. It would follow, then, that the injury occasioned by a disregard of these laws, is not only a necessary consequence of such disregard; but that the pain or suffering experienced by the sensitive creation upon a transgression of the laws which govern their peculiar organization, is a mark of the benevolence of the Creator, inasmuch as it is a warning of danger and a stimulus to self-preservation. To use the illustration you have introduced: If we expose ourselves to a degree of cold too great for the system to support without injury, we are warned by pain to approach the fire. We now experience a pleasurable sensation so long as the amount of heat is limited to a certain point; and pain warns us the moment we transcend the salutary boundary. It is by the vigilance of this sentinel, which, like Argus, looks forth from every part of the body, that we are preserved amidst the dangers to which we are ever exposed.

      Philander. Even so: and it will be as apparent to the candid inquirer that the suffering or punishment denounced and inflicted, where the divine law relating to our moral nature is transgressed, is as necessary a consequence, and proceeds from as benevolent an intention. As the animal is inferior in dignity to the moral and intellectual part of man, so is even his intellectual nature subordinate to the moral. It would, then, be an anomaly in the divine government if this nature were not even more sedulously guarded, and if the laws by which it is regulated were not enforced by still more powerful sanctions. The intellectual nature of man comprises those mental faculties by which he perceives, [151] remembers, compares, judges. The moral nature embraces his feelings or affections, of which are love, generosity, meekness, condescension, courage, fidelity, gentleness, &c. It is in respect to these two natures that man is created in the Divine image. For God has revealed himself as a Being who sees, remembers, and judges; who is possessed of generosity, faithfulness, condescension, love. It is, then, to regulate these natures, and through them the corporeal or animal, that we are provided with the written law of God--prescribing what lessons we should learn, what knowledge we should seek, what noble and virtuous principles we should foster; what objects we should love, in order to render us as happy as the capacity of our nature will admit. Not only the law, then, but all the penalties designed to secure it from violation, proceed from the same source--the benevolence or philanthropy of God. He hates, denounces, and punishes sin, the transgression of this law, because he loves man, and would preserve him from self-destruction. Nay, in willing our sanctification in body, soul, and spirit; in desiring that all our powers and faculties be subordinated to unerring principles of rectitude adapted to our nature and condition, he wills our highest happiness.

      According to our present organization, then, sin has a natural tendency to produce misery. But, as I before intimated, we cannot by our reasonings acquire a true knowledge of its nature. Would we know what it is, we must be acquainted with what it does; as we recognize, by its effects, the lightning which has rifted the tall cedar or the knotted oak. Verbal explanations and definitions can only refer us to the thing itself, and this we discover, alas! only by its fatal effects. If a man put his hand into the fire, he disregards indeed the laws of his animal frame; but we see and understand the nature of the act by its unhappy consequences. Sin then, in fact, is fear, pain, sorrow, and anguish, revenge, ignorance, idolatry, hatred, murder, death. *  *  *  * It is the catalogue of all the woes of mortality. The history of all the misfortunes of the human race forms but a chapter of the history of sin. Its briars and thistles grow in every soil. It arms every rose with thorns, and poisons every cup of happiness. It directs the blow of the assassin, and excites animosity between those who are connected by the nearest earthly ties. It whets the glittering sword of the warrior and burnishes the spear. It arms the Persian chariot with scythes, and points the barbed arrow of the Scythian, and covers the earth with ruin and desolation. Nor need we wonder at the magnitude of its effects, when we remember that it employs the mighty powers and energies of humanity for their accomplishment. How stupendous must those capacities and faculties be, which can perform such things when perverted [152] and misapplied! Sin has directed man's hand against his own bosom. It has put out his eyes, as the Philistines did those of Sampson, so that his heaven-born strength is employed against himself--and he dies amidst the ruin which, he has made. [153]

      Eugenio. Is it possible for us to discover the origin of this desolating evil? Or is it, indeed, permitted to us to make such an inquiry? The human mind, like Noah's dove, seeks a resting place. Must it always, in relation to this subject, return disappointed from a shoreless ocean of uncertainty to the point from which it set out?

      Philander. By no means. It will in due season find a place of rest, if, like the dove, it is content to seek it upon earth; and does not, from a vain ambition, lose itself amidst the clouds.

      Eugenio. The inquiries which present themselves to me respecting the origin of sin are these:--Where did it originate? When? How? and Why? In what way, then, would you reply to such queries?

      Philander. It would be necessary first to understand distinctly their hearing and application. Do they apply to sin in the abstract, or the concrete?--absolutely, or relatively? Sin, as we have it defined, is the transgression of law. Is it then asked, Where, when, how, and why law was first transgressed? Let us first endeavor to ascertain, if we can, where, when, how, and why law was first given. Or, seeing that different classes of beings have transgressed law, to which of them do these inquiries relate? To men? or to the angels who kept not their first estate? If to the former, we may find an answer by a recourse to the history of men: if to the latter, the querist can only be referred for solution to the angels who are doubtless best acquainted with their own records. To men belong the things of men: to angels, the things of angels. To institute inquires into matters which do not concern us, is to indulge a vain and unprofitable curiosity. And as there is no vice to which men are more addicted than this, there is no stronger internal evidence of the divine origin of the holy scriptures, than that they reveal nothing which is not directly or indirectly useful to men and necessary to be known, and that all unprofitable questions are therein inhibited as ignorant and foolish. He, then, who would pry into the secret councils of the palace of the universe, if he dislike not the reveries of Swedenborg, may love the visions of Mahomet, and [268] discover, if he can, whether, with respect to angels, sin originated in the first, second, or third heaven. As for us, with the Bible in our hands, we can only say, that, as respects the human family, sin originated in the garden of Eden. There law was first given to man, and there it was first transgressed.

      Eugenio. But do not the scriptures themselves reveal to us something respecting sin as existing antecedently among the angelic host?

      Philander. They reveal nothing more in relation to its previous existence than is barely necessary to the narrative of its introduction into Eden. The scenes to which it has given rise upon earth seem to constitute but an interlude, or an underplot in the great drama which is enacted upon the theatre of the universe, and as men are connected with angels in this matter, enough is said to show that connexion, and no more. As to angels themselves, it is not revealed to us where it originated, nor when. With regard to ourselves, we are fully informed that it originated, as before stated, in Eden, and in the days of our first parents.

      Eugenio. For an account of the way in which it was introduced into Eden, you will then doubtless refer the querist to the third chapter of Genesis.

      Philander. Exactly so. He will there find that the serpent, called elsewhere the devil, and the adversary (Rev. xx. 2), is represented as tempting our first mother and inducing her by falsehood and deceit to eat of the forbidden tree; of which, through her persuasions, her husband became then a partaker. I say, persuasions; for as Adam was not compelled to partake with her, and the scripture assures us he was not deceived, he must have been persuaded. To us, then, this apostate angel who appears upon the stage as the adversary of the Most High, is the author and originator of sin. He is the father of it.

      Eugenio. May we carry out the figure, and say that to us sin has also a mother?

      Philander. Assuredly. That mother is denominated Lust--for says the scripture, "When Lust hath conceived it bringeth forth Sin." The term "lust" is here, and indeed commonly in the scriptures, used in a general sense as signifying inordinate desire. We have, as we were before saying, desires which are lawful, natural, and necessary in our present condition. But these must be restrained within the limits assigned by Nature and by Nature's God, lest, like the swollen river or the raging ocean, they pass beyond the proper boundaries, and become injurious rather than beneficial. Whenever desire passes the limits prescribed by law, it constitutes lust. Sin is the transgression of law-- [269] Now as men act from motive, they will love inordinately, or lust after, something forbidden by the law, before they will break the law to obtain it. Hence lust always precedes sin and gives birth, as it were, to it.--And hence the Apostles represent the "corruptions that are in the world" as occasioned by "lust," and all the evils that exist as springing from "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life."

      Eugenio. Lust, then, has respect to the degree or intensity of desire for any object that may gratify the senses or the pride of man, rather than to the kind or nature of the desire itself.

      Philander. To desire in any degree whatever that which is prohibited by law, is to lust. So it is equally to indulge an excessive passion for objects in themselves lawful, when law has fixed the proper boundaries of desire. As lust is desire going beyond law, it is law alone which can define it. It is much more common, however, for men to lust for that which they ought only to love, than to desire what is unnatural and entirely forbidden.

      Eugenio. It is so; for indeed we have at present few, if any, prohibitions purely arbitrary. The laws we have are designed to direct and control the passions and affections. And this brings us again to the point which we considered a little ago; to wit, that the laws prescribed to us by nature and by revelation are in perfect harmony with each other, and have for their objects our preservation and happiness.

      Philander. There is nothing more true or more worthy of attention than this. To yield to lust is indeed to enjoy a transient pleasure--the pleasure of sin; but it is the nature of this irregular and tumultuous passion to destroy the very objects of desire, and thus put an end both to present happiness and the hope of the future. Were I to personify love, by which I mean lawful desire, and lust in the view just given. I should represent the former as the happy man, of whose choice Cowley says, that

"His life he to his doctrine brought,
And in a garden's shade that sovereign pleasure sought.
Whoever a true Epicure would be,
Slay there find cheap and virtuous luxury."

He plucks from the bending bough the golden fruit, and temperately enjoys it from day to day with grateful relish. But lust, I would say, is the Louisiana savage, cutting down the tree that he may gorge himself to the full, while he destroys the source of his enjoyment. Or, I would depict love as the naturalist gazing with devout admiration upon a gaudy butterfly as be leisurely expands his wings, spotted with azure green and gold, as though he would contrast them with the whiteness of the lily on which he rests; but lust as the school-boy seizing [270] the beautiful insect with rude and eager hands, and brushing away all its beauty in seeking to retain it in his grasp.

      Eugenio. I appreciate the truth of your remark, and the aptness of your illustration. Yet to what you have said, that although there is a pleasure in sin it destroys the source of its own pleasure, I would add that it is really attended also with pair. For as you formerly observed, it is not possible for any one to transgress the laws established for our happiness by infinite wisdom and goodness, without suffering pain as the penalty of that infraction. In this view I would, if you permit me, illustrate my meaning by representing love as a beautiful maiden gently approaching a bed of roses, delighting in their beauty and charmed with their sweet fragrance as it is borne upon the breeze; and lust, on the other hand, as the thoughtless urchin seizing the beautiful flower with eagerness, and not only destroying its beauty, but piercing his hand with its thorns. Or, I would compare love to the sage enjoying the brilliancy of the lamp which gives light to all who are in the house; and lust to the winged moth of the summer's evening, burning himself in the flame he loved too well.

      Philander. Your remark is just. And how accordant then with reason and benevolence are those kind admonitions and teachings contained in the holy scriptures in reference to the government of the passions, and the proper direction of the faculties of man! Alas! how greatly have these swerved from the true equilibrium since the nicely adjusted balance was first disturbed in Eden. And how perfectly does the history of the temptation in the 3d chapter of Genesis quadrate with the views presented by the Apostles respecting the nature and tendency of inordinate desire! For it is obvious from the account there given, that it was lust--the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the lust of god-like knowledge--an ambitious pride which overcame the constancy of our first mother, and became to her and to the whole human race the mother of sin and death. "And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired [lusted after] to make one wise, she took of the fruit," &c. How simple and excellent an exposition is given in this brief account of the true and unchanging motives which lead to the transgression of law!

      Eugenio. It clearly developes both the principles to which sin owes its birth, and the agency by which they were first brought into action. It seems to me that the proud sceptic, who does not think the less of himself that he cannot tell who was his great great grandfather, ought to be satisfied with a genealogy of sin which traces its lineage for near six thousand years to the birth-place of the human family. [271]

      Philander. WHEN we come to consider the reason, or reasons, on account of which, sin, with all its direful consequences, was admired into the universe of God our Father, we find our view much more circumscribed, for want of the clear light of revelation, than when the place and manner of its origin were inquired for. It becomes us, therefore, to be more cautious in our advances, and less confident in our conclusions. To know the reasons or causes of things is, indeed, a happiness not often permitted to us. We readily perceive effects, just [405] as we do the morning breeze which now feels to us so refreshing; which is seen to move the graceful boughs, and is heard to murmur amongst the foliage by which we are overshadowed; but we know as little of causes, for the most part, as we do of the region from whence this breeze has come to us, or of the quarter to which it goes. We can easily observe the bright waters of the fountain which issue from that mountain's side, but their secret sources mock our scrutiny, and defy out researches.

      Eugenio.. Yet, although we cannot trace the course of the wind, or pursue the fountain into the deep recesses where it originates, we can readily and certainly infer their uses, and the reasons of their creation, from the purposes which they accomplish or subserve. May we not, then, with some degree of certainty, thus judge of the reasons for which sin is permitted to exist?

      Philander. This is precisely the matter before us, and it would not be very easy to show that we should not in this case, as in others, thus reason from the effect to the design, or that we could not in this way obtain some insight into the uses or purposes of sin. For that sin must be designed to accomplish some important purpose in the universe, or that else it would not be allowed so exist, will not, I presume, be disputed; by any one.

      In the first place, then, it manifestly gives occasion to a display and development of the Divine character to both men and angels, which could not, so far as we can reason or imagine, have taken place without it. What could men or angels have known of justice, or mercy; of long-suffering, or condescension; and of the infinite power and wisdom of God, if circumstances had not arisen which called for a manifestation of these attributes? The opposition of an adversary, and such a one too as Satan, and the conflict of antagonist principles which has been occasioned by his means, have elicited manifestations of the Divine character, which, so far as we know, we could not otherwise have had at all; or which at least, (our confidence in the Divine wisdom should lead us to say,) we could not have had so well in any other way. That such has been the effect of sin, like the dark ground of the picture, to exhibit in bold relief the attributes of God, is incontrovertible. And we must conclude that it was permitted for this among other purposes, or suppose events to have occurred unforeseen by Omniscience, and unavoidable by Omnipotence. Indeed, if we may deduce the design of the whole drama from what is actually expressed in relation to certain scenes and actors in it, this conclusion would be sustained even by revelation; for while we are invited in relation to some events to "behold the goodness and severity of God," it is in respect to others [406] distinctly stated that it was "in order to show his wrath and make his power known that God endured with much long-suffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction, as well as to make known the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he had before prepared for glory." And in the case of Pharaoh he says to him, "In very deed for this cause have I raised thee up for to show in thee my power, and that my name may be known throughout all the earth." Nor is it easy to perceive how the Divine goodness should be in any way more implicated by such a conclusion respecting the opposition and rebellion of the leader of the apostate host, than in the case of his minion the king of Egypt, who was given over to his power that he might harden his heart and strengthen his hand to the utmost of his ability against the God of the Hebrews.

      Eugenio.. The Divine goodness certainly could not be implicated in either case, when it is remembered that these displays of character were necessary to, and productive of, an ultimate happiness and perfection to which this creation could not otherwise so well attained. Is it not, however, written that "the LORD hardened Pharaoh's heart"?

      Philander. It is. And it is also stated that "an evil spirit from the LORD troubled Saul." Job too attributes his afflictions to God, and says, "Know now that God hath overthrown me, and hath compassed me with his net. He hath fenced up my way that I cannot pass, and hath set darkness in my paths. He hath stripped me of my glory, and taken, the crown from my head. He hath destroyed me on every side." And a little further on he pathetically exclaims, "Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends: for the hand of GOD hath touched me." God charges himself, or allows himself to be charged with, whatever is done by his express permission, even though the agent be an evil spirit, seeking to gratify his own malevolence, as is clearly revealed to us in the case of Job. This case, indeed, serves as a key to unlock many things which appear at first secret and mysterious.--Satan, with that impudence by which he is characterized, having presented himself among the sons of God upon a day of audience, has the character of Job presented to him, as remaining pre-eminently unspotted by the evil which Satan bad brought into the world. But he having formed (from self-judgment, perhaps; like many men) the grossest conceptions of human nature, and the poorest opinion of those sterling and noble principles by which the Lord, a better judge, knew Job to be governed, attributes his piety to selfish motives, and the mere temporal and transitory circumstances which surrounded him. He is permitted to put him to the proof by taking away these adventitious circumstances. And what is the result? The excellency of these [407] divine principles is brilliantly displayed; the Divine character exhibited in many points as it is not in any other part of revelation; the mysteries of Providence explained; and the malice of Satan so entirely defeated that the means which he used to destroy Job, caused his latter end to be blessed more than his beginning, Thus, as James says, "We see the end of the Lord how that the Lord is very pitiful and of tender mercy." And if the dealings of Satan with a single individual have given to us an assurance so consoling, how great will be the a sum, and how deep the import of the revelations of the Divine character presented, at the denouement, in the biographies of men and angels!

      There is also an incident in the life of Ahab, where the Prophet Micaiah for a moment withdraws the curtain, and affords us a glimpse of the Divine councils, which may further illustrate the subject. He represents the Lord as "sitting upon his throne, and all the host of heaven standing by him on his right hand and on his left. And the Lord said, Who shall persuade Ahab that he may go up and fall at Ramoth-Gilead? And one said on this manner, and another said on that manner. And there came forth a spirit and stood before the Lord, and said, I will persuade him. And the Lord said unto him, Wherewith? And he said, I will go forth and I will be a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets. And he said, Thou shalt persuade him and prevail also: go forth and do so. "Now, therefore," says Micaiah to Ahab, "the Lord has put a lying spirit in the mouth of all these thy prophets, and the Lord hath spoken evil concerning thee."

      From all this we learn that Satan himself and all his wicked subordinates are under a restraint like wild beasts in a chain, and that although they have constantly the disposition to deceive mankind to their ruin, and to afflict them in every possible way. that they are not permitted to do so, unless men by wickedness have put themselves without the pale of the Divine protection, and deserve to be given up to their cruelty, as criminals were wont to be to lions; or unless in cases where their malice will become its own punishment, and redound to the ultimate happiness of those who are for a time subjected to it.--Such being their nature, we find them at all times ready to offer their services, and even to solicit employment. Thus Satan desired to have Peter in his power; who received strength to endure the trial through our Lord's intercession.

      But to come to the case of Pharaoh: As David was a man after God's own heart for a certain purpose, so he found Pharaoh a proper instrument--a man of the right mettle, for the object to be accomplished--to wit, to make known his power. But it was not in human nature to [408] withstand such repeated judgments as were required for this object, and also for the punishment of the tyranny and oppression of the Egyptians, and therefore it became necessary that his heart should be still more hardened, so that he might resist to the very last, and give scope for these manifestations of Divine power. Now we need be at no loss to judge through what agency the Lord hardened Pharaoh's heart, and hurried him headlong to the destruction which he deserved. Thus the sculptor, who desires to chisel out a statue, selects for the purpose a tool, not of wood or any yielding substance, but of iron, which is not only possessed of its native hardness, but is also steeled and tempered for his use by the agency of the furnace. [409]

      Eugenio. THE opposition of Satan has not only thus elicited, as you observe, a direct display of the Divine attributes; but it has also developed the nature of angels, and their astonishing gifts of wisdom and power; and has thus again indirectly tended still further to exhibit the transcendent character of these attributes in the Creator who bestowed them.

      Philander. True. In dwelling upon what is revealed to us concerning the deep wisdom and knowledge, the stupendous power and might of Satan, and of these who in common with him partake of the angelic nature, we form lofty conceptions of creative power. And, to come nearer home, the same may be said of that development of human nature to which sin has given rise.

      I have heard the wish expressed that man had remained in Eden in primeval innocency: but I confess that when I consider the astonishing exhibitions not only of the divine and angelic, but of the human nature which have been occasioned by the fall--the deep counsels of infinite wisdom counteracting the cunning of the Tempter; power surpassing power; love overcoming hatred; truth defeating falsehood; mercy and justice uniting to redeem a ruined world and elevate man to more than his original glory; and think of the wonderful scenes which it has already brought to view, and the awfully sublime events yet future, it seems to me that for man to have remained as he was in Eden, would have been in the comparison, a consummation imperfect, and inglorious.--Fancy, indeed, loves to depict the beauties of the garden of delights, the heritage of uncorrupted purity and untried fidelity. But it is because sad Experience has furnished the dark ground of the picture, that its brighter hues appear so brilliant and so charming. Often, [443] however, forgetful of the cause to which it owes its power to please, we contemplate it with the same feeling of joy commingled with regret, with which we recall to mind in maturity the halcyon days of childhood and of youth; in noontide heat, the dewy morn; or, in the midst of summer, the balmy gales and fragrant flowers of spring. Yet childhood were vain and futile, regarded as an end--as the highest destiny of a being susceptible of such elevation and perfection as man; and, although when spring has decked the trees of the orchard with flowers and perfumed them with odors, it seems a sad and unfortunate reverse when the stormy wind has scattered these beautiful blossoms upon the ground, and the trees are presented to us in dishabille, yet is the change approved by Reason, and noted with joy by Hope as the precursor of a fruitage still more delightful. Imperfect, then, as childhood without maturity; the dawn without the day; flowers without fruit, or spring without autumn, would man in Eden, the keeper of a garden, have appeared, if such had been his perpetual destiny--the first end last object of his creation.

      How wonderfully has sin developed what man is, and what his capacities are! Even as it regards his animal nature, how ill qualified would we be to estimate the resources and energies with which it is endowed, if these were not called into action by disease, one of the consequences of sin! How impossible it would have been for us to have conceived of the vast variety of forms into which the animal constitution has been moulded by the morbid influences to which it has been subjected! What delicacy of organization these have superinduced! And to what forms of beauty and displays of genius, talent, and varied intellectual power has this in turn given rise? The whole animal and vegetable creation, indeed, has been affected and modified, and some of the most beautiful productions of these kingdoms of nature owe to these influences their existence. Thus the precious pearls which adorn the ivory neck of the fragile beauty, and the surpassing charms to which they give lustre, are alike the product of disease.

      Eugenio. It is astonishing with what consummate skill the Divine Creator circumvents the designs of Satan, so that his confusion brings forth order; and the deformity which he creates results in beauty. But if God causes the wrath even of man to praise him, how much more the enmity and opposition of that mighty adversary by whom man was instigated to rebel!

      Philander. It is, however, in the relation of sin to man's moral nature, that we see his ability to bring good out of evil most conspicuously displayed. Indeed, as moral virtue, considered as the quality of [444] an action, consists in mediocrity; and, as the quality of a person, in the habit of this mediocrity; it seems impossible to conceive of the existence either of virtue or virtuous persons, without supposing the extremes which constitute vice, and that probation which displays the strength and beauty of habitual morality. How could we appreciate courage were it not for cowardice and audacity; or how distinguish temperance without abstinence and excess? What could we know of generosity, without avarice and profusion; of modesty, without pride and diffidence; of mildness, without irascibility and softness; of magnificence, without ostentation and parsimony; or of condescension, without forbidding disdain or officious adulation? The Divine Being has, therefore, in the first place, made sin or evil the very means of distinguishing and bringing to view the nature and excellency of moral virtue. Thus the forbidden tree became to man the tree of the knowledge not of evil merely, but of good also; and good and evil, discovered at the same moment, were to him equally strange and novel.

      But if the existence of evil be thus instrumental in displaying the quality of actions, it is no less efficient in exhibiting the character of agents. It becomes, as it were, the touch-stone of purity and perfection. As Paul says of schisms, one of its effects, it makes 'the approved manifest,' and gives conspicuity, excellency, and glory to those noble and illustrious persons who have endured its trials and resisted its power. "In this," says John, "the children of God are manifested, and the children of the devil." If there were no opposition, indeed, there could be no contest; if no contest, no victory; and if no victory, no crown.

      Hence it is that sin is made to subserve this most important purpose,--to wit, that of enabling man to form for himself a CHARACTER. It gives him the opportunity to show his bent; to make an election; to enter into the service of God, or enrol himself in the ranks of the Adversary; and, under the plastic power of the influences to which he thus subjects himself, to be transformed into a noble and virtuous, or a degraded and malignant being. In respect to his capacities and susceptiblities, man is indeed a singular being. He can ascend the highest elevations, or plunge into the greatest depths; he can rise to heaven, or descend to hell; he can become the compeer of angels or of demons, and be assimilated to the character of God, or to that of Satan. It is the existence of evil which gives us to know this, by giving occasions to these developments of human nature. Without it man could make no choice; could form no character; and his nature would have remained undisclosed, like the power of the pendulum which is not permitted to vibrate. [445]

      Eugenio. Sin, then, would seem to be like the fire which tries every thing subjected to its action. If it be wood, chafe, stubble--it becomes a part of the fire to which it yields; but if gold, silver, or the diamond, it comes forth not only uninjured, but more lustrous and brilliant than before.

      Philander. Sin is the chemical test which forms the analysis of human character. Or, to illustrate my views of agency still more clearly, I would compare man, from the hand of his Creator, to a ray of pure white light which has just issued from the sun; and sin to the prism or the falling shower which breaks up this ray into all the colors of the rainbow, and exhibits to view the brighter and the darker shades. Without the prism we could never have known that white light contained such various and such beautiful tints, nor without evil could we have become acquainted with the dignity and excellency of virtue, or with those different attributes of character which belong to the human, angelic, or divine nature. Without it, if man could not deteriorate, it would have been just as impossible for him to improve. Without sorrow, he would have had no joy; without fear, no hope; without poverty, no riches. Where there is no choice, there can be no liberty to choose; and if no liberty of its agency be permitted, there can be no accountability. For if there be no possibility of demerit, there can be no merit; if no blame, no praise: if no punishment, no reward. [446]

      Eugenio. How cheering is the conviction that all the ills of life; the terrible consequences of sin; the pains and penalties of disobedience; the machinations of the Adversary at once of God and man, are controlled, overruled, and counteracted by One who is so infinite in his resources of power, wisdom, and goodness! He provides a balm for every wound; a cordial for every fear; an antidote for every grief; and makes even sin itself, as you have shown, the occasion of new displays of beauty and new developments of the divine and human nature. Thus the dark shades of evening which seem as though they would cover with their dusky veil the fair face of nature and hide it from our sight, serve only to present to us in the glories of the spangled heavens, and the enchantment of the moon's silvery radiance, a view of the universe more accurate, extensive, and magnificent than we could ever have obtained by day.

      Philander. In this age the divine purposes are so far revealed, that we may justly regard the history of the world as a great drama in which there is a manifest unity of design, to wit, the development of the human nature, and its assimilation to that of God. The earth, then, becomes the STAGE. The dramatis personæ are God, and Satan; angels and demons; good men and wicked men. In the PLOT, Satan seeks to destroy men: in the COUNTERPLOT, God determines to save them, and to secure the ultimate triumph of virtuous and noble principles. It is the combat of light with darkness; truth with error; good with evil--the contest of Orosmades and Arimanius.

      This great drama is divided into its different acts. The first embraces that period during which the divine economy extends to the whole human family, which lasts 2000 years, and ends at the call of Abraham. In the second, which also takes in 2000 years, and closes with the Jewish age and the coming of Messiah the Prince, the family of Abraham are the chief actors upon the stage. In the third, which has now (A. D. 1839) reached almost to the same period of 2000 years, the whole world again appears under the designation of Jews and Gentiles. The fourth or last act embraces the millennial age spoken of in the Prophets, in which the plot thickens; a rapid succession of events interprets the divine purposes, and a denoument takes place, in which virtue is gloriously triumphant, and vice as signally overcome.

      These acts again have each their different scenes. The first scene of the first act opens with the beautiful picture of Eden, innocence, [583] and love; and presents in the trees which are in the midst of the garden, and in the laws and elementary arrangements, the groundwork, and symbolic indications of all that is to follow. In the second we have the temptation, and the curtain falls when man guilty, condemned, and disinherited, 'from Eden takes his solitary way.' The third includes the death of Abel and the birth of Seth, a type of Christ, and the progenitor of that branch which remained faithful to God. The fourth shows the increasing knowledge and wickedness of the human race, which become at length almost extinct in the flood of Noah. The fifth brings us to the confusion of tongues. But I need not particularize the various interesting scenes through which the human family has passed; or dwell upon the incidents which prefigured and prepared for the appearance of "the seed of the woman;" "Immanuel the virgin's son;" the second Adam, the mighty conqueror who come to deliver man from one who was too puissant in power, subtlety, and malignity for weak and unaided humanity. In all these you will at once anticipate me, and perceive the gradual evolution of the plot, and the deeper wisdom of the counter-plot by which every attempt of Satan to destroy and humble the human race is made to promote their salvation and exaltation.

      Eugenio. The figure under which you regard the movements and transactions appertaining to human destiny, serves indeed to give point and force to the whole eventful history of man; and like the golden thread which unites the pearls of the necklace, to generalize and connect the precious revelations of sacred scripture. How deeply interesting are the records of truth! No romance, however wild and imaginative; no histrionic composition, however ingenious and affecting, penned by man, ever introduced characters so lofty; incidents so marvellous, or results so unexpected and so grand.

      Philander. And what gives power and interest to the whole is this, that every thing here is reality and truth, and that every human being is of necessity a party in the affair and a partaker in its dread results. In the midst, then, of such a contest, where victory or death are the only alternatives--a deadly struggle not with flesh and blood, but with spiritual powers of superior strength, it is, as you before remarked, most cheering to be assured of the aid of one who is ever ready to hasten to our succor, and ever able to change an apparent defeat into a glorious victory.

      This, indeed, is a striking feature in the history of the human family, and seems to constitute what might be termed the artful mechanism of the drama. It is doubtless necessary, constituted as we are, to a proper apprehension of character. Hence the poet has recourse to it, [584] and allows his hero to be reduced to the lowest and plunged into difficulties which appear to us insurmountable. But at the very moment when we are ready to give up all for lost, he suddenly by some skillful stroke of policy, or some unlooked-for hazardous and dazzling exploit, changes the whole face of affairs, and achieves a triumph. We are by this means enabled to appreciate his character and the extent of his resources. It is precisely so in the divine procedure.

      Thus when Satan had seduced our first parents and rendered them obnoxious to the penalty of death, he seemed to have succeeded to his wish. Little did he think that he had laid the foundation of his own overthrow, and of the future exaltation of those whom he sought to destroy, in that very death of which he was the occasion. But superior wisdom contrived a plan for the destruction, through death, of him that was thus permitted to have the power of bringing death upon our race, and for the glorious deliverance of those whom he thus subjected to bondage. And all this doubtless to the surprize and discomfiture of the enemy, was set forth in striking symbols at the time of the transaction,--a transaction by which the Creator took occasion not only thus to display superior wisdom, but also to manifest justice and mercy in harmonious and sacred union with each other.

      To how low an ebb were the fortunes of mankind reduced at a subsequent period, when Satan had again led the world into wickedness and crime; so that out of the innumerable multitudes which now filled the earth, but one was found faithful to God! Or when upon a shoreless ocean a frail bark of gopher-wood bore above the unfathomed abyss the hope of the human race and of all the animated terrestrial tribes! But

--"Overhead a rainbow bursting through
The scattering clouds, shone, spanning the dark sea,
Resting its bright hues on the quivering blue;
And all within its arch appeared to he
Clearer than that without, and its wide hue
Wax'd broad and waving like a banner free,
Then changed to a bow that's bent--
------------- A heavenly chameleon,
The airy child of vapor and the sun,
Brought forth in purple, cradled in vermillion,
Baptized in molten gold and swathed in dun
Glittering like crescents o'er a Turk's pavillion,
And blending every color into one."

It shone--the glad token of peace and security; a type of future joys; a smile amidst the first tears of heaven, and another scene opens in which man commences a new career under happier auspices. [585]

      It is, however, needless to adduce other examples from the ancient records; or to pursue either the whole human family, or Abraham and his posterity through all their vicissitudes of fortune, and their deliverances in the hour of extreme peril. We have in the history of our Lord familiar and striking illustrations; when at one period man had no hope of aid or rescue except what should be given by an infant whose only cradle was the manger of a stable in the least of the cantons of Judah; when the midnight hour witnessed his hasty flight from the sanguinary Herod; or when after a life of humiliation and suffering, delivered into the hands of the enemy, he yielded up his pure spirit upon the cross. Yet in all he triumphed; and descending into the lowest depths, he from thence arose leading captivity captive, and bringing up from the dark and dreary mansions of the dead, life and immortality. There could be no greater extremity; no loftier triumph; and no overthrow of the Prince of Darkness by his own devices more signal and complete.

      Eugenio. It is, indeed, overwhelming to consider the infinite power, wisdom, and philanthropy of God, displayed in the singular and oft-repeated deliverances vouchsafed to men, at the very moment when Satan seemed to have acquired uncontrollable dominion. And the extremities to which sin has at times reduced our race, have not only thus called forth these manifestations of the divine character, but have also served to show the real designs of Satan, and the true nature and tendency of sin. We clearly perceive thereby that sin aims at nothing less than a total subversion of the divine government; that its natural tendency is to fill the earth with violence; and not only to despoil man of every thing which could happify and exalt him, but to plunge him into the lowest depths of misery and degradation.

      Philander. True; and it is above all in the sufferings and death of Christ, by which we most clearly perceive the love of God, that we see also most evidently the cruel malignity and appalling effects of sin. It is here evinced that it rages with unappeasable animosity against all that is lovely, pure, and noble; and that its fury is proportioned to the excellence and perfection of the object against which it directs its assaults. He, then, who would most fully understand its character, must witness it mocking and insulting the meek and lowly; slandering the innocent; oppressing and afflicting him who had none to help; and piercing those hands which were never opened but to bless; those feet, the feet of him who preached the gospel of peace and brought glad tidings of good things; and that heart which beat only with love for men. He must contemplate the awful events of that hour when even a dying malefactor could revile the just; when the sun himself could [586] no longer look upon a crime so great; and when the very rocks were less obdurate than sinful men. But for these we never could have believed that sin could attain to such malignity, and he knows but little of its power who disbelieves or is ignorant of the death of Jesus Christ.

      Oh! how joyful is the hope of being freed from so dire an influence; so dreadful a servitude; so fatal a disease!--of having our souls at length purified from all alloy; the insensibility of unbelief, the madness of passion, and the infatuation of pride: our intellect invigorated and enlightened; and our mortal part clothed with the beauty of an eternal youth! How well prepared we shall be for rest after our toilsome journey through this weary land! How well fitted to appreciate the happiness of that abode where peace, purity, and joy forever reign. Then shall the dominion of Satan exist no more! Circumvented in all his attempts to ruin man, with his auxiliaries death and the grave, he shall be plunged into the flaming abyss. It shall no longer be possible for men to sin! "Neither can they die any more"! Having seen the power, wisdom, and goodness of God displayed on earth, we shall here behold his blessedness. Oh! happy day, when we shall depart from this sin-polluted world to such an audience in the palace of the universe! There too we shall meet with those whom we have loved on earth. There shall we rejoin the oft-remembered tenants of the tombs around us, in whose company every joy shall be enhanced. I shall again see that venerable friend with whom I have so often held sweet converse; who was so devoted to the interests of the cause of truth; so temperate; so just; of uncorrupted integrity and unblemished faith--and the beloved Arthur, so intelligent, yet so humble; so gentle, yet so firm; of taste so refined; of morals so pure; whose acuteness of feeling, and high sense of honor and religious obligation, while they elevated his own character, caused him many a sorrow in his intercourse with others. But he sorrows no more! I myself witnessed his joyful and triumphant departure from this present evil world, to enjoy the fellowship of glorified and congenial spirits. There too I shall behold those amiable ones who suffered persecution and loss for Jesus' sake, whose hearts trembled at the word of the Lord, and whose reward is great in heaven; and that beautiful and youthful band endeared by the most tender associations. The hard and insensible marble here marks their graves; but, ah! for those so bright, so transient, and so fair, a better memento would be the early flowers of spring; the primrose; the snow-drop; the yet unfolded rose-bud--a more suitable emblem, the morning dew which sparkles, is exhaled, and goes to heaven. [587]

      But the bell rings for family devotion, and we must return. May we not, in view of all that we considered in regard to sin and the circumstances in which it has involved us, exclaim, in conclusion, with the Apostle, "Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!" [588]

R. R.      

[The Millennial Harbinger, March 1839, pp. 107-110; April 1839, pp. 149-153; June 1839, pp. 268-271; September 1839, pp. 405-409; October 1839, pp. 443-446; December 1839, pp. 583-588.


ABOUT THE ELECTRONIC EDITION

      Robert Richardson's "Sin--A Dialogue" was first published in six installments in The Millennial Harbinger, New Series, Vol. III, No. III, March 1839, pp. 107-110; No. IV, April 1839, pp. 149-153; No. VI, June 1839, pp. 268-271; No. IX, September 1839, pp. 405-409; No. X, October 1839, pp. 443-446; No. XII, December 1839, pp. 583-588. The electronic version of the essay has been transcribed from the College Press (1980) reprint of The Millennial Harbinger, ed. Alexander Campbell (Bethany, VA: A. Campbell, 1839).

      Pagination has been represented by placing the page number in brackets following the last complete word on the printed page. I have let stand certain variants in spelling and punctuation; however, I have offered corrections for typographical/printing errors. Scripture references contained in footnotes in the printed text have been incorporated into the essay. Emendations are as follows:

            Printed Text [ Electronic Text
 -----------------------------------------------------------------------
 p. 108:    But, alasl even [ But, alas! even
 p. 150:    unrighteousness.* [ unrighteousness (1 John v. 17).
            THE LAW,"[dagger] [ THE LAW" (1 John iii. 4),
            * 1 John v. 17. [
            [dagger] 1 John iii. 4. [
 p. 269:    adversary,* [ adversary (Rev. xx. 2),
            * Rev. xx. 2. [
 p. 270:    assigned [ designed
 p. 406:    accompiish [ accomplish
 p. 407:    destrnction, [ destruction,
            circumstonces. [ circumstances.
 p. 408:    Now, therefore," [ "Now, therefore,"
 p. 444:    child hood [ childhood
 p. 445:    if liberty of action [ if no liberty of its agency
 p. 583:    Abraham, In the second, [ Abraham. In the second,
 p. 586:    less thau [ less than
            agains ll [ against all
 

Note.--The corrections on pp. 270 and 445 are from "Errata," Millennial Harbinger (1839): 597.

      Addenda and corrigenda are earnestly solicited.

Ernie Stefanik
373 Wilson Street
Derry, PA 15627-9770
412.694.8602
stefanik@westol.com

Created 2 October 1997.


Robert Richardson Sin--A Dialogue (1839)

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