Fear of punishment—Early Impressions—Men of piety and learning—Fact and figures—Mental or material fire—The theory of conditional immortality—Why invented—Moody—Divine failure impossible—Future operations of grace—Restoration—A plea for charity—Other worlds—The heathen—Devout use of the imagination.

There is a general fear of suffering after death. Such fear may be derived in part from early impressions and education, and in part from the conscience that God has given to every man. But whatever their secondary origin, these sources of fear have been divinely ordained as means to an end. Such fear could not be divinely inspired if it were not founded on fact. And the fact is, that there is suffering in reserve for evil doers. There is no mistaking the statements of Scripture as well as the voice of conscience on that point.

What that suffering is, for what object inflicted, and how long it will continue, have been of late years much discussed, and with diverse views. Some of these views are very literal interpretations of the divine Word, and others of them are very figurative. The fact is, it is not always easy to distinguish between symbolism and reality, whether in nature or in revelation. I remember that the first time that I saw Mount Tacoma in the distance, I could not distinguish as to what was mountain and what was cloud. When I got very near, then I knew. And so in several Scripture statements it is not easy, for the present, to distinguish between what is fact and what is figure. When we get nearer no doubt we shall know. So it is with the nature and the duration of future punishment. Some take a more literal, and some a more figurative view. The result is, that the Christian world is at wide variance on the subject. And I think he would be a bold man, and not a very wise one, who could be very dogmatic in such a realm of investigation.

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Now, with regard to the portion of the wicked in the next life, there are three main theories that are held.

First: There is the theory of everlasting conscious torment of the most terrific kind. It is not clearly defined whether the suffering is of the body or the mind, or both; but the general idea is that it is of both. The bodily suffering is usually conceived of as being inflicted by fire; but whether the fire is material or of some other kind, is not clearly defined. The mental suffering is usually represented as the most bitter remorse.

Then second: There is the theory of extinction at death or after. The idea is that there is utter destruction both of the body and the mind at some period.

Then again: Some hold that the wicked are given another opportunity after this life of obtaining salvation; that many will do so, and that the remainder will be destroyed. We may call this the theory of extinction.

DR. EDWARD WHITE'S THEORY.

Some are very definite in locating the period of a second probation as co-extensive with the Millenial reign. Others do not pretend to know when it will happen, or how long it will last; they simply believe it will happen. This idea of a second probation is very similar to Dr. Edward White's theory of Conditional Immorality. He held that life in the Scripture simply means life, and that death simply means death. He believed that those who are fit for life will live, and that the rest will perish.

I would say here that the idea of Conditional Immortality, favored by many, does not seem to me to be well conceived. Evidently the theory was invented in order to escape the doctrine of endless torment. The idea is, that if you are fit to live you are destined for a glorious immortality; otherwise you are extinguished. Such a view does not seem to comport with our highest thoughts of God, and His ways of working. In my mind, it represents God as being too dependent on circumstances. When we realize that Christ died not only for "all," but for "every man"; and when we realize that the invitations of mercy are extended to "every man," without equivocation, it does seem to me something like a failure of the divine plan if "every man" is not saved.

But since every man is evidently not saved in this life, we project our view into the next life, and we think of God's operations of grace there. No doubt that is a larger view than that which has so long prevailed. But it is not unreasonable by any means. Divine operations are surely not restricted to this short epoch of time. God's mercy is from everlasting to everlasting.

And can anything defeat His purpose? He has expressed His purpose to save all men, in the fact that He gave His Son to die for the world, and that He invites all the world to be partakers in the great salvation. That is His purpose; and "His purpose will stand, and He will do all His pleasure."

We should never forget this great truth. As Mr. Robert E. Speer well says:

"We escape much difficulty from literalistic and mechanical interpretations by remembering that both space and time are merely conceptions of our present order, and that there is neither space nor time in God."

The third theory is, that everyone will be restored. Those who hold this view do not generally define the period when this will take place, or the means that will be used to bring it about; but they believe that the wisdom, love, and power of God will somehow be effectual to that end.

I think that these are mainly the views that are entertained on this most solemn subject. And it must be said that each one of them is apparently supported by one or more passages of Scripture. Men of the most devout spirit, intellectual acumen, and profound scholarship, uphold these various theories. Such men are honest and sincere in the last degree; above all things anxious to know what God has revealed in His Word.

UNFOLDING LIGHT OF REVELATION.

Yet on this momentous question they differ. It is really no wonder. I think I may say that there is no clear deliverance in Scripture, in absolute support of either of these views; or if there is, it is offset by some other statement that seems contrary. In the unfolding light of revelation we do not seem to have come to the time when this momentous question will be made absolutely and universally plain. It may be one of those questions on which we are to exercise faith alone. "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" That was Abraham's consolation when he did not know what God was going to do. And it may be our consolation. The Judge of all the earth will certainly do right. Yes, and He will do more than right. He is love. We can rest on that. Uncertainty as to details may best become us now. But the eternal morning will break and the shadows flee away. Meantime, while this uncertainty prevails, surely there ought to be abounding charity of judgment.

When we come to think of it, we are not so much surprised that we have but a partial and limited revelation on this subject. There may be more divine kindness in that than at first sight appears. When we contemplate the vastness of creation, we see that there are myriads of other worlds far larger and more glorious than our own. Every one of these is likely to have a moral history—it may be more important than ours.

Now, if we had a complete revelation of the destiny of our race, possibly that would involve a history of some or many of those worlds; for the affairs of this world may be largely involved in theirs. Therefore, if God would give us such a revelation now, we can easily see that it is quite beyond us; the subject would be too vast for us now and here; we would be utterly bewildered, and rendered unfit for the ordinary duties of life. How much wiser and kinder it is to give us but a limited revelation, leaving unrevealed matters entirely to faith.

SUFFICIENT REVELATION.

It is not remarkable, then, that so little is revealed, even of Heaven. We do not know what activities will have place there. What particular business will engage redeemed souls, we do not know. We have a sufficient revelation to stimulate hope, but not enough to pander to curiosity. Such a limited revelation as we could receive would probably only confuse us. It is not remarkable, then, that we have but a meagre account of the preparatory processes for final blessedness.

Yet, while all this is true, we can hardly help inclining more or less to one or other of the theories named, in reference to the future. But in this, as I have just said, we ought to be very charitable with each other, as to our special conviction. If it were a fundamental question, likely the Word of God would have made it plain. But it is not a fundamental question. We may take whichever view seems the most agreeable with Scripture or with reason; and for so doing we ought not to be ostracised as heretics.

On this very question of future suffering there has been far too much intolerance. The theory of eternal torment has especially been held to be the only orthodox view. Surely, it is time for more liberality. On this question I would make a special appeal for charity and good-will, on the ground that there is no positive deliverance in revelation.

If anyone claims that there is, I would ask, How comes it that men of the highest character and candor take different views? The time may come when we shall see eye to eye on this matter; or it may not come in this life.

Meantime we can agree to differ. What are we that we should arrogate to ourselves any assumption of certainty on a matter unrevealed, that takes us into the eternities, and fixes the doom of uncounted millions of our race?

THE DEPARTED MORE AMENABLE.

Explain it as we may, we have always to remember that there are myriads of human beings living now, and other myriads who have departed, who had no chance to know the way of life. Will not the God of all mercy and of all resource provide them with a chance on the other side of death? The mere accident of death makes no change in them. And who knows if the departed may not be more amenable to good influence then, than now? I have heard of heathens who heard the Gospel but once, and they received it, and were saved. It may be so with poor lost souls who had no opportunity on this side of time.

One thing I cannot understand; and that is, the liberal terms in which men at times express themselves, who yet profess the narrow orthodox view. I do not say they are insincere; but it does seem as if they deliberately ignored their own creed, and that they spoke for the time out of the conviction and sincerity of their hearts. Just now, glancing through a certain magazine, I have come on an instance of this kind. The writer is a professor in a so-called orthodox Seminary. I leave any fair-minded reader to say if his utterances are at all in harmony with his professed orthodoxy. Here are a few of his sentences, selected almost at random from a long article:

"In this swift day of unmatched opportunity, the Church is laboring, perplexed and heavy, over its message." That is true enough. And I think the secret of the Church being "perplexed and heavy" is, that preachers must have an inward, unspoken conviction that their message of a limited salvation is unworthy of God, and unsuited to the needs of the world. No wonder the Church is "perplexed and heavy!"

Again this author says: "Men want to know that all the lines of diverse human life converge into one infinite, beneficent hand." But if that "infinite, beneficent hand" has cast by far the greater part of the human race into eternal torment, it is no wonder if thoughtful men are "perplexed and heavy."

Yet the writer of this article believes in universal love. He says: "Men want to see that their single life, so lost alone, is vitally bound into the bundle of universal love." So the author's instinct is better than his creed. He professes to believe in universal love. That is surely all right. But notwithstanding that, he professes to believe that untold millions of the human race are in endless suffering.

In another place he says: "Men long to be assured that this is no universe of short, fortuitous details." He also says: "The Kingdom of God is too great for less than universal participation." Is this not universalism? Yet, if the author were asked, would not his creed require him to repudiate such an idea?

Again, this author says: "A few years ago science and human thought were accepting an account of life which let a man fall like a beast in the field, or a tree in the wood. To-day that explanation satisfies no one. It is agreed that the meaning of life can be complete only in terms of spirit and immortality." Is not the old doctrine of reprobation here utterly denied? Yet that old doctrine of reprobation stands in the creed of the orthodox church to-day.

One more quotation will suffice. Speaking of the divine plan, the author says that it is "a plan so complete that no sparrow falls beyond it, that no act falls fruitless, that there shall never be one lost good, that no living soul made in God's image can ever drift beyond His love and care." Is not this a flat contradiction of the author's orthodox creed? We believe that all he claims is absolutely true. But is he candid? Why has not the church the courage to expunge the old fatalism from her creed, and present to the world a statement that she really believes? I am persuaded that such candor is the desideratum of the world to-day.

To a thoughtful mind, the most evangelical preachers are at times unintelligible, and even contradictory, on such themes. Take this extract from a sermon by Mr. Moody, published some time ago. He says "Christ will return to the earth, for he has bought it with his own blood, and is going to have it. He has redeemed it; and the Father is going to give it to him."

Now, what does Mr. Moody mean when he says that Christ has bought the earth, and that He is going to have it? Of course, it must be the population of the earth that he means; otherwise, the words would have no sense. Then, did Christ purchase the whole population? If He did, there would be great equity in Him claiming the whole. But Mr. Moody would be one of the last men to admit that Christ will claim the whole of mankind. On the contrary, he professes to believe that the greater portion of mankind is lost beyond all recall!

Such is the confusion and contradiction in which men involve themselves, who are otherwise the excellent of the earth. There is no contradiction, however, but glorious harmony, in the idea that Christ will claim the whole of mankind for His own, because he has bought them every one, and has omnipotent power to claim them.

I feel that I ought almost to apologise for using the word "claim" at all in such a conception. It looks too much as if the Father and the Son were somewhat at variance in the glorious scheme of salvation. A thousand times No. I even doubt if in the actual suffering of Christ, the Father did not really suffer by sympathy as much as He! This is holy ground!

Consider this. We are commanded to preach the gospel to every creature. But where would be the honesty of preaching the Gospel of salvation to one for whom no salvation is-possible? For certainly, no salvation is possible for anyone for whom Christ did not atone. But it is now tacitly admitted by all evangelical churches that He died for all, notwithstanding that the doctrine of a limited atonement is still asserted in the Presbyterian Confession of Faith. Well it may; for if the atonement were acknowledged to be universal, then this difficulty would have to be faced—Why are all not saved? According to the doctrine quoted elsewhere, that God infallibly accomplishes everything at which He aims, all must infallibly be saved. For God certainly aimed at that consummation in giving His Son as a ransom for all. Here is a crux from which, it seems to me, there is no possible escape.

There is also this weakness—I might say this contradiction—in the Methodist theology. They say that Christ died for all; but they teach that all are not saved. Then He must have died in vain in regard to those that are lost. That is the inevitable corollary. Not only did He die in vain in their case; but His intention and desire was, not to die in vain in reference to any. He certainly aimed at their salvation in dying for them; but He does not accomplish it. To such horrible absurdities are we reduced by denying that He died for all, or that He will save all. The only logical, reverent, and divine solution seems to be that He intended to save all, and that He will do it. "God will infallibly accomplish everything at which He aims."

I lately heard an address—one of the best that I have heard—by a Canon of the Episcopal Church. His theme was: The work and aims of the British and Foreign Bible Society. The address was scholarly, lucid, earnest; and the language was absolutely perfect.

But like every address that I have heard on kindred subjects, it never so much as hinted at the results in the next life, if we failed in the duty the speaker so strongly recommended. Not once did he speak of eternal torment as a possible issue. What a tremendous incitement to duty is here, could it be but presented with the accent of conviction. But as a matter of fact, it is never presented at all, except in terms so vague that they actually mean nothing.

I do not know, in the case I have referred to, if the Canon believes in everlasting fire. Nor do I know that the creed of the Episcopal Church endorses it. What a glorious opportunity is here for an earnest and consistent minister in that church to publicly denounce such a doctrine as a hideous dream! So far as I know, he would not expose himself thereby, as in most other churches, to pains and penalties. I think, on the contrary, a vast number would rally around him, both in his own church and outside of it. Is not the religious world waiting for some pronounced leadership on this question? I am convinced that there are thousands of prominent ministers who do not believe in eternal torment, but who keep up a pretense of doing so, in order to avoid loss of reputation—perhaps of livelihood. Is it not time for earnest men to be honest? And many are longing to be honest, if only their way was clear.

And what an incalculable boon would then come to the world! I am convinced that honesty in this matter on the part of ministers would speedily issue in a mighty revival. For what is it that mainly keeps so many men, especially working men, from the Church? There may be many causes; but one undoubtedly is, an undefined idea that there is no eternal torment, and that ministers know it, but are not candid enough to say so. These men may not have studied the theology of the case, but they cannot think of God—when they think of Him at all—as casting innumerable people, and pretty good people—into everlasting fire. They have an idea that that doctrine is in the orthodox creed; and so many have an impression that the whole system of religion is a melancholy farce. But give them a man who has the common feelings of humanity like themselves, and interprets the true God to them as a God of love—and their whole attitude will be changed. I am convinced that nothing would have such a wide and gracious effect, as honesty on this question of future punishment.

I see that a notable Presbyterian divine has been giving a course of lectures on The Church and Men. For one thing, he seeks to account for the fact that working men do not attend church. After glancing at the progress of science, and the effect of the higher criticism, he says: "It is alleged that the church has sometimes alienated thoughtful men by her adherence to outworn creeds." The lecturer, however, makes but little of this as a real cause of working men not allying themselves with the church. I think it is along this line, however, but deeper, that the chief cause may be found. The church has, indeed, "adhered to outworn creeds" in her confessions. The dogma of reprobation, and a limited atonement, and everlasting fire, are retained. But are they preached? Are they believed?

Not long ago, in a large evangelical congregation, the preacher asked for a show of hands on the part of any who had heard a sermon on hell for the last ten years. Two hands were held up. Was that doctrine proclaimed last Sunday in any evangelical church? Was it proclaimed for a year past, or ten years past? I doubt it. But if it is believed, would it not be preached—yes, preached morning, noon, and night, with the earnestness of frenzy?

Some preachers delicately approach the idea with hints and innuendos and mild threatenings, which are really worse than utter silence. I heard a preacher speaking lately of men as "utter failures, going out into the darkness." Now, what did he mean, or did he mean anything? Again: preachers speak of "eternal death," which might mean eternal extinction, or eternal fire. And yet that vague phrase is actually proposed as one of the bases of union of the churches.

Now, how can we expect such jugglery of sacred things to commend itself to honest, hard-headed men? For such is really the character of many of the working men. They love truth, and honesty, and consistency, and abhor everything like sneaking, unmanly pietism? Give them the manliness of truth and honesty, and I venture to think they will not be so shy of the church.

Of course, that might involve the repeal of much of our creed. And there's the rub. We are afraid of pains and penalties. And then we don't like to go back on the fathers who made the creed. It looks like a reflection on their wisdom and piety. But I don't think it really is. They were faithful to their light. And they had to contend with evil traditions. It is not to be expected that any creed they could frame would be good for all time. Besides, we should not be afraid to go back on anything or anybody that is not true. Truth is too sacred for that. And our responsibility is too serious. 'Carlyle has a most scathing warning for all who strive to believe that which in their inmost soul they repudiate.

If it is thought that I am in any degree uncharitable towards ministers of so-called orthodoxy, let me here transcribe a few words from a highly honored preacher of the opposite trend of thought. I have just met with these brave and candid words. They were spoken some time after I had expressed my own views regarding the want of courage and honesty on the part of so-called orthodox preachers. If anyone is disposed to think my own words too strong, let him listen to this from an old and honored minister, but one who repudiates the doctrine of eternal torment.

He says: "It matters not that all the educated ministry to-day well know, and would not for a moment deny, their disbelief in the doctrine of eternal torment, if cross-questioned. Nevertheless, many of them hate us and oppose us, because we show the people the true interpretations of God's Word, and lift before the eyes of their understanding a God of Love, Just, Merciful, Righteous altogether, and fully capable both in wisdom and power to work out all the glorious designs which He 'purposed in Himself before the foundation of the world.'

"(1) They perceive that the doctrines of Purgatory and eternal torment have not had a sanctifying influence upon mankind in all the sixteen centuries in which they have been preached. They fear that to deny these doctrines now would make bad matter worse. They fear that if the Gospel of the Love of God and of the Bible—that it does not teach eternal torment for any—were made generally known, the effect upon the world would be to increase its wickedness, to make life and property less secure than now, and to fill the world still more than now with blasphemies.

"(2) They fear also that a certain amount of discredit would come to themselves because, knowing that the Bible does not teach eternal torment according to the Hebrew and Greek original, they secreted the knowledge from the people. They fear that this would forever discredit them with their hearers. Hence, they still outwardly lend their influence to the doctrine of eternal torture, which they do not believe, and feel angry with us because we teach the people the Truth upon the subject, which they know will bring to them hundreds of questions difficult to answer or dodge."

But it is not often that orthodox ministers emphatically present the horrors in which they profess to believe. Take, for instance, Dr. Torrey. In a late sermon, when warning sinners, he is reported to have said: "You will go out into eternity disgraced forever." Is that all? Only disgraced? Why does he not present the horrors of eternal fire in which he professes to believe?

Another minister, whom I know, spoke lately of wicked men as "going out into the darkness, miserable failures." Such trimming fails to command the respect of sensible, honest men.

Those who hold the larger view have no need for such evasions. I have just had a letter from one of the most eminent English theologians, in which he states his view thus:

"With regard to the future world, my faith and doctrine have always been that the state of anyone entering the next world is tested and determined by his relation to Christ, Whom he will then see in the fullness of all His redeeming power and glory. If he then seek by a touch to lay hold of Him, he is in Christ's Hand. If he should even then turn from Christ, he will enter into a new condition, but that condition is only an age-long condition, and he is not there fore outside the redeeming love of God; but at the end of the new age will enter upon a new state."

I have pointed out to him that, in my view, the condition he refers to may not necessarily be age-long condition, but that in certain cases it may be very brief. The case of Saul and others seem to favor this view. In any case, he endorses my main contention—that suffering is not endless. The same mail brought me also a letter from another notable English divine, in which he says candidly that he does not believe in endless suffering, and that this is common sense.

I remember well that as a child I was confused by the following problem. My saintly old minister often prayed that the earth might be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. That was all very well for those who would savingly know the Lord. But what about the uncounted millions in the past and the millions now, and the millions yet to be born, who would go out of this world in darkness, without knowing the Lord. The minister never said a word about that. His creed required him to believe that they would all go into endless torment; but he passed over the momentous question in silence.

Possibly he would say that the matter was not a proper one to be spoken of. But why not? If there is such a fearful possibility for anyone, why should he not be warned? The very warning might be the means of averting such a fate. Surely, the most lurid picture of eternal woe would be better than the realization of it. Yet it was seldom or never spoken of, especially as to its duration.

Here, then, is a most serious consideration. If we can think of God doing a thing, the horror of which we cannot bear to speak of, or even to think of, is there not in this a strong presumption that the theory is not true? Let this thought revolve for a while through your mind; remember the strong affinity which the mind has for truth; and then see if the thought which I am trying here to sustain is not a reasonable one. Surely, we have here a strong argument against the theory of endless torment.

There was lately a great Missionary Conference in Edinburgh. Amongst other matters, all sorts of expedients were discussed as to how the heathen of different countries could be most successfully reached. Certain doctrines of Christianity were recognized as best fitting to be presented to certain countries, as especially suited to meet the special conditions that prevail. Strange to say, so far as I saw any report, the doctrine of everlasting punishment was not once suggested as being especially appropriate. Yet if it is true, what could be more appropriate to the heathen mind of all countries? Is it really believed by Missionaries, and those who support them? If it is, why not present it? If it is not, why not expunge it from our stated confession of faith? Can we not afford to be honest on this supremely sacred question? When an intelligent heathen is converted to the Christian faith, and realizes that we profess to believe what we do not really believe, what will he think of us? Will not the Christian church lose more than it gains by this worldly wisdom, which essentially is moral cowardice?

A devout use of the imagination is of great service here. Yes, I say the imagination. I do not mean the revelling of mere fancy in the realm of the unthinkable or the impossible. I mean the vivid realization of facts that lie outside the ordinary rut of thought. So exercised, imagination is one of our noblest powers.

We need a devout, yet chastened, imagination in dealing with such themes as the one we are considering now. No wonder that Ruskin says that imagination is the greatest power of the soul. It is but reasonable to imagine, then, that God has disclosures of love, and wisdom, and power, to make in the next life, that far transcend our present thought.