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death of Christ? In a sect, in which every one is suffered to explain the scriptures for himself, it may be difficult to answer such a question. Still, if I mistake not, they may on this head be considered as divided into two classes.
The first of these hold, that the death of Christ is connected with our life and well-being in a future state of existeuce, in a manner which has not been revealed to us. This view, (to which the writer of this article feels influenced to give the preference,) is not exclusively held by Unitarians. It was also, if I mistake not, embraced by Bp. Butler, by Dr. Paley, and by many other eminent men of different sects. It rests on the great stress which the sacred penmen appear to lay on the death of Christ, and the prominence which they constantly give to it. If asked as to the manner in which the death of the Saviour is connected with our future existence, we answer that we do not know. We do not pretend to be wise beyond what has been revealed. “The secret things belong to the Lord our God; but those things which are revealed, belong to us, and to our children forever."*
But the opinion which has perhaps more generally prevailed is: that the death of Christ is in no other way instrumental in our salvation, than as it presents us with motives to forsake sin, and to become virtuous and holy; and that the only way in which it saves us is by making us good. To persons whose taste has been formed by the high-seasoned doctrines of Calvinism, these views will probably appear low, and unworthy of the death of the Saviour; but those who, laying aside former predilections, will camly investigate this subject, will probably find that these views are in harmony with the usual simplicity of the gospel dispensation; and, above all, with the great purpose of Christ's Advent in to the world. What was the whole object of our Saviour's mission? The apostle Paul tells us it was “to save sinners.”+ And what is that evil from which Christ came to save us? It was not from the wrath of God, as our orthodox brethren hold, for our heavenly Father loves us all, and there is no need of the intervention of any other being to render him merciful. But Christ came to save us from the greatest of all human evils, sin. On this point the scriptures again are perfectly decisive. When the Angel announced to Joseph the approaching birth of the Saviour, he tells him: “Thou shalt call his name Jesus,” (which means Saviour,) "for he shall save his people from their sins.”! And how does Christ save us from our sins? The answer is: by inducing us to forsake
Deut. xxix. 29. + 1st Tim. i. 15. Matt. i. 21.
them, and to leave off sinning. Peter tells the Jews, that God, having raised up his son Jesus, sent him first to them, to bless them in turning away every one of them from his iniquities; and the apostle Paul, in his epistle to Titus, says: “ Our Saviour, Jesus Christ, (who) gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.” Now the death of Christ operates on us to make us virtuous, in a two-fold manner, namely: directly, and indirectly.
It has a direct influence on us, through the example of constancy, and steadfast perseverance in duty which it sets be
Who that sees the Saviour toiling in the performance of the great work “which his Father had given him to do,” regardless of the privations and dangers to which that work exposed him;—who that sees him calmly expiring in the most horrid tortures, that mankind might reap the full benefit of his mission, but must feel himself strengthened by his example, under those trials and difficulties which, here below, constantly attend on virtue and on duty?
But it is principally by an indirect agency that the death of Christ contributes to our salvation. That death set the seal to his mission, and established his religion. By that religion we are surrounded with motives to goodness, and its precepts are emphatically what a truly great man of the present age, has called them: The guide to happiness and peace. Whenever now, by the motives which that religion presents to us, we are induced to forsake our sins, to turn to God and become virtuous, we then may be said to be saved by the death of Christ. In the same manner we are said elsewhere to be saved by hope; by the preaching of the cross; by the gospel; by grace, &c. Now this could not be, if the death of Christ, as an expiatory sacrifice, had alone effected our salvation. But according the view above taken of this subject, all is plain and in perfect harmony. We are saved by the death of Christ, by hope; by the preaching of the cross; by the gospel and by grace, just so far as each and all of these do induce us to forsake our sins, and to become good and virtuous, and no farther.
Which of the two views is most in accordance with the scriptures, the reader must determine for himself.
CHARTISM.-BY THOMAS CARLYLE.
But to cure these evils, the cause of them must be known and removed. Now the misfortune is, that most men look to legislation-to government, as the means to effect this object. This is the argument. Bad laws are the cause of all grievances; alter these, enact salutary ones in their stead, and all will go on well. But this does not follow. Neither a good government, nor liberal poor-laws, nor a large liberty of action, nor prosperity, can always secure content; these are necessary—but with these man may be most wretched. There is in every heart an ideal of right, which is dear as life itself; and if the possession of that be invaded, if the enjoyment of it be denied, or the struggle for it checked, there can be no peace. Thus, at least, thinks Mr. Carlyle.
“An ideal of right does dwell in all men, in all arrangements, actions and procedures of men; it is to this ideal of right, more and more developing itself as it is more and more approximated to, that human society forever tends and struggles. We say also that any given thing either is unjust or else just, however obscure the arguings and strugglings on it be, the thing in itself there as it lies, infallibly enough, is the one or the other. To which let us add only this, the first, last article of faith, the alpha and omega of all faith amung men, That nothing which is unjust can hope to continue in this world. A faith true in all times, more or less forgotten in most, but altogether frightfully brought to remembrance again in ours! Lyons fusilladings, Nantes noyadings, reign of terror, and such other universal battle-thunder and explosion; these, if we understand them, were but a new irrefragable preaching abroad of that. It would appear that Speciosities which are not Realities cannot any longer inhabit this world. It would appear that the unjust thing has no friend in the Heaven, and a majority against it on the Earth; nay that it has at bottom all men for its enemics; that it may take shelter in this fallacy and then in that, but will be hunted from fallacy to fallacy will it find no fallacy to shelter in any more, but must march and go elsewhither;—that, in a word, it ought to prepare incessantly for decent departure, before indecent departure, ignominious drumıning out, nay savage smiting out and burning out, overtake it! Alas, was that such new tidings? Is it not from of old, indubitable, that Untruth, Injustice, which is but acted untruth, has no power to continue in this true universe of ours ! The tidings was worlj-old, or older, as old as the Fall of Lucifer; and yet in that epoch unhappily it was new tidings, unexpected, incredible; and there had to be such earthquakes and shaking of the nations before it could be listened to, and laid to heart even slightly! Let us lay it to heart, let us know it well, that new shakings be not needed. Known and laid to heart it must everywhere be, before peace can pretend to come. This seems to us the secret of our convulsed era; this which is so easily written, which is and has been and will be so hard to bring to pass. All true men, high and low, each in his sphere, are consciously or unconsciously bringing it to pass! all false and half-true men are fruitlessly spending themselves to hinder ir from coming to pass.”
The cause of discontent may spring from laws; govern. ment may force it upon a people by its iron sway. But
there are other sources of discontent. For what is it that man is now struggling? It is for justice. “It is for a man-like place and relation in this world where he sees himself a man.” And it is because he has not that, that there has arisen that convulsive unrest—that sullen revengeful humor of revolt--that trampling stormfully under foot all law and all right, which has so often made society mad. Ask your law-givers and your men of substance, for what end does society exist? and they will answer, for the protection of property. Look abroad into the actions of men, and the spirit of the nations, and there stands out prominent above all other things, the desire to get power or to get money. The progress and education of man—the growth of religion and virtue, justice, even-handed justice to all—these are secondary matters, and the one great purpose seems to be to preserve and to protect property. Society unquestionably does exist for this object; but it has other and as high duties to perform; duties, too, which if well fulfilled would make it all we would ask for or desire; duties which would bind it together in indissoluble ties, which would make it a means of good, and good only. Mr. C. speaks truly, when he says:
“ Another thing, which the British reader often reads and hears in this time, is worth his meditating for a moment: That Society exists for the protection of property.' To which it is added, that the poor man also has property, namely, his labour,' and the fifteen-pence or three-and-sixpence a-day he can get for that. True enough, O friends, for protecting property;' most true: and indeed if you will once sufficiently enforce that eighth commandment, the whole rights of man well cared for; I know no better definition of the rights of man. Thou shall not steal, thou shalt not be stolen from: what a society were that; Plato's Republic, More's Utopia mere emblems of it! Give every man what is his, the accurate p.ice of what he has done and been, no man shall any more complain, neither shall ihe earth suffer any more. For the protection of property, in very truth, and for that alone! And now what is thy property?, That parchment title-deed, that purse thou buttonest in thy breeches-pocket? Is that thy valuable property ? Unhappy brother, most poor insolvent brother, I without parchment at all, with purse oftenest in the flaccid state, imponderous, which will not fling against the wind, have quite other property than that! I have a miraculous breath of life in me, breathed into my nostrils by Almighty God. I have affections, thoughts, a godgiven capability to be and do; rights, therefore,-the right for instance to thy love if I love thee, to thy guidance if I obey thee: the strangest rights whereof in church-pulpits one still hears something, though almost unintelligible now; rights, stretching high into Immensity, far into Eternity! Fifteen pence a-day; threeand-sixpence a-day; eight hundred pounds and odd a-day, dost thou call that my property? I value that little; little all 1 could purchase with that. For truly, as is said, what matters it? In torn boots, in soft-hung carriages-and-four, a man gets always to his journey's end. Socrates walked barefoot, or in wooden shoes, and yet arrived happily. They never asked hiin, What shoes or conveyance? never; What wages hadst thou ?- Property, brother? Of my very body I have but a life-rent. As for this flaccid purse of mine, 'tis something, nothing; has been the slave of pickpockets, cutthroats, Jew-brokers, gold-dust robbers; 'lwas his, 'tis mine;-'tis thine, if thou care much to steal it. But my soul, breathed into me by God, my Me and what capability is there; that is mine, and I will resist the stealing of it. I call that mine and not thine; I will keep that and do the work I
can wlth it: God has given it me, the Devil shall not take it away! Alas, my friends, Society exists and has existed for a great many purposes, not so easy to specify"
Now it is because society is thus moulded, and is selfish and narrow, and unjust, that it is so tossed about and torn. Man can bear wrong; can suffer bravely; but scorn, neglect, a cold mocking at his misery, a trampling under foot of his soul-cherished right—this he cannot bear, and will not suffer. When this comes, be it in prosperity or adversity, under a good or a bad government, the heart is stirred up, and there goes out of it the purpose and the power to destroy. Reasoning, then, is powerless. Logic is cold. At once, long before the head can understand, the heart sees; and the conviction “ that Man measures Man the world over," bursts in, and despite of outward constraint, works on its way until old forms of society are broken up, and a new order of things constructed. Thus have all rights now acknowledged been gained; thus has all progress been secured. “All intellect, all talent,” says a writer, “is in the first place moral.” And beautiful is it, amid the darkness which surrounds us, to behold the gleam of light which this truth sends forth. Cheering is it too to our loftiest hopes; for it assures us, that amid all the wrong-doing and violence of men, maddened by suffering, there is still in man, not only the instinctive desire to grow, but the power to rise above the evils which crush him.
The thought is often expressed, that the under classes of England do not want to be governed at all: that they have vague notions of liberty, and a feverish ambition to be called freemen; and, that hence come chartism and out-break, and all the horrors of a threatened revolution. In part this is true. These under classes have vague notions of liberty: they do entertain false ideas of the character of freemen. But it is not true that they, or any set of men, are unwilling to be governed. They seek good government. They sue for it. Of all the rights of man, indeed this is the clearest. “Nature herself ordains it from the first; Society struggles towards perfection by enforcing and accomplishing it more and more. If Freedom have any meaning, it means enjoyment of this right, wherein all other rights are enjoyed. It is a sacred right and duty on both sides; and the summary of all social duties between the two classes. Why does the one toil with his hands, if the other be not to toil, still more unweariedly, with heart and head? The brawny craftsman finds it no child's play to mould his unpliant rugged masses; neither is guidance of men a dilettantism: what it becomes when