The Creed of Eternal Torment—Do Ministers Really Believe It—If They
Do, Why Not Say So?—No Decisive Note of Warning—Definite Missionary
Incentive Is Wanting—The Phrase "Eternal Death" often Used—Does It
Mean Eternal Annihilation, or Eternal Torment, or What?—Vague
Reference as to Punishment Fosters Unbelief—An Age of Compromise
—Professor Faulkner's Testimony—The Idea of Restoration Would Wholly
Meet the Difficulty—Honesty and Candor—Carlyle's Scathing Warning
—Ultimate Fulfillment of Prophecy—Eternal Songs.

If the doctrine of everlasting punishment is true, there has been of late years a singular reserve on the part of preachers in proclaiming it. Why? Surely "all doctrine is profitable." This doctrine would seem to me to be specially so, if it is true. It is contained in the creed of both the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches. But do the ministers believe it? If they do, would they not preach it; yes, preach it morning, noon, and night? But as a matter of fact they do not preach it. I never heard a sermon on it, or any attempt to prove it, since I was a child. A short time ago in a large congregation the minister asked for a show of hands on the part of any who had heard a sermon on hell during the last ten years. Two hands were held up.

Some time ago a noted Methodist minister told me that the Methodist ministers of Canada do not believe in Everlasting Punishment. A prominent official of that church told me lately that he does not believe it, but that if it were known he would lose his position.

The Presbyterian ministers seem largely to hold the same view. Is the subject mooted at all in any Presbyterian Church? I know that ministers profess to believe it; but they seem as apathetic about multitudes dropping continually into eternal fire as if they did not believe it. Privately, I have spoken on this subject with many ministers; and not one of them professed to believe it.

* * * * *

Now, my plea is for honesty and candor. Let us be assured that Truth will not suffer by being avowed and defended. The matter is of the greatest importance just now. It has a most vital relation to Missions. I rejoice in the Laymen's Missionary Movement; but I fear it will wane if this most important question is not approached, and if possible rightly settled. For we want to know what the heathen are to be saved from, if there is going to be an adequate and sustained incentive to liberality and enterprise.

In all the reports of the meetings of the Laymen's Missionary Movement, I have seen no hint of the alternative before the heathen if they are not evangelised. I heard a minister lately speaking of them as 'miserable failures going out into the darkness.' What did he mean? It seemed to me an unworthy evasion of the question.

And now it is proposed to put in the creed of the proposed union of the churches that the doom of the finally impenitent will be 'eternal death,' What does that mean? It may mean either External Extinction or Eternal Torment. Is the union to be built on such ambiguity? Would not such ambiguity pave the way for future dissension? Herein we see the folly of putting too much in a creed, forgetting that 'more light is yet to break out of God's holy Word,' and that any human creed may yet have to be revised. And we are slow to make revisions, for revisions seem to reflect on views that we may have strenuously defended.

Julia Ward Howe, the gifted authoress of the "Battle Hymn of the Republic," had recently a "vision" of a regenerated world. She exulted in the prospect of a day of grace. But not once does she seem to cast a backward glance on the myriads of our race who are supposed to be in endless torment. Surely, that would have dimmed the glorious forecast. It may be that she does not believe in torment, or that she believes in final Restoration. In either case she would be consistent, and nothing would seriously mar the joy of her anticipation.

But such a mantle of charity is not available for certain orthodox ministers. They, too, forecast a final day of grace, and paint it in the most glorious colors. There appears to be nothing to mitigate their joy. But all the while they profess to believe in eternal torment. Their creed says that uncounted myriads of our fellow creatures are writhing in eternal fire, and that their torment will go on forever and ever, without any hope of mitigation. Surely, the very thought of such suffering would cast a pall of unspeakable gloom over the most glorious anticipation? No, not at all. Not for a moment does the black shadow intervene. How are we to account for that? I can think of only two ways; either that there is no imagination to realize the horror, or else that it is not really believed.

This painting of a roseate future, conjoined with a professed belief in endless torment, savors to me somewhat of unreality. The two things do not hang together. Surely, if such torment is but realized, it would cast a pall of gloom even over heaven's joy. But let such torment be abolished in fact and in conception, and the last vestige of gloom goes along with it.

And what necessity is there for retaining the idea? Is there any barrier in eternal justice? Surely, there cannot be, since Christ has paid a penalty of infinite value for every soul of man. And is there any limit to divine love? That love is infinite, and embraces the very worst of our race. But perhaps there is no method by which eternal love can take due effect? Will not infinite wisdom find a way? If there is any difficulty left, calling for the exercise of infinite power, surely, it is not beyond Him whose goings forth have been of old, from everlasting? Is it not thus reasonable to believe that all possible difficulties will yet be solved? The infinite One who rules all worlds is from everlasting to everlasting. His government may require time to evolve His gracious designs; but He will do all His pleasure. Therefore, we believe the day will come when sin and suffering shall be entirely done away. This is the

"Far off divine event
To which the whole creation moves."

It will be remembered that I cited the case of the conversion of Saul as an instance of divine power subduing in a moment the most extreme and violent wickedness. The chief of sinners became the chief of saints. Yes; but the man never lost his freedom. In recounting that experience he could say, "I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision." This union of divine constraint and human freedom is an everlasting mystery; but not the less is it a glorious fact.

Now, why should not the same principles hold in the next life? The wickedness of a sinner may possibly be even more intense then than now; but the overcoming love, and power, and wisdom will be infinite. What, then, should hinder their ultimate triumph? Certainly, not the most terrible wickedness of puny man. It is but finite at the worst, and is no match for the infinite love and power of God. And then consider that the redeeming blood of Christ will be of infinite value then as now, and so will be available for the worst. What a prospect of universal Restoration is opened up here to our faith!

But there may still lurk in some minds the idea that divine love is limited to this life, and that justice alone will rule in the next. They have an idea of different dispensations; they say that this is the dispensation of probation; that the next life is the dispensation of rewards and punishments; and so on. Well, there may be a truth in that, and a wholesome truth, too. But let it ever be remembered that the character of God is unchangeable. What we call dispensations are but epochs in the divine government. But the qualities of God's character will never change. His love is from everlasting to everlasting; so is His power; so is His wisdom. Will these qualities of His character be inoperative in a future life, when there will be such sin and suffering to appeal to them? However great the sin may be, surely divine love, wisdom, and power will be infinitely greater.

And I cannot forbear adding this consideration: What would Christ think of the atoning sacrifice that He made for the sin of the whole race, if the whole race is not ultimately redeemed But it was said of Him, "He shall be satisfied." Yes; He shall be satisfied. Divine Love will win.

Lately, a little book was published on the subject of missions. The author is earnest, even to intensity. He says the Church is "sleeping." He deplores its "deadly apathy," He says that "a thousand millions" have not heard of the Saviour. He says that "a Christless multitude" dies at the rate of thirty millions a year. He says that "many millions have gone to Christless graves." He says that for these uncounted millions "death and the future are the very blackness of despair." He says that for twenty centuries these millions have been "perishing." Phrases such as these are multiplied to a vast extent, to awaken our horror of the situation.

But singular to say, the author does not seem to have any definite, positive ideas as to the actual doom of these uncounted millions; or, if he has any definite convictions, he does not definitely express them. Is it eternal extinction or everlasting torment? From the phrases he uses I cannot gather what he actually means. He speaks of a "Christless multitude" and "Christless graves," and "going into darkness," and the "blackness of despair." It may be that he deems it wise not to compromise himself by speaking out his definite conviction, if he has any. But in my view, he will not produce much of a worthy effect if he does not say definitely what he means. Or it may be that he has no definite idea. In that case, would it not be manly and candid to say that he does not know?

I believe that is the position of very many. They are hovering between the idea of extinction and that of torment. They try to believe in torment; they have been inoculated with that idea; they think, or are afraid, that it is Scriptural; but they recoil from any hearty reception of it. They have not got the length as yet of the idea of final salvation. But some day that truth may flash upon their souls like a gleam of heaven's own sunlight.

To come back to our author. He tries to give us a due incentive to awake from our apathy, and enter on a Missionary Crusade with a spirit of self-denial and zeal never yet known. He quotes two passages, which he presents as a very strong incentive. But neither of these passages has any force, on the theory either of extinction or of torment. Otherwise, they are pregnant with eternal hope. Listen: "He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied." Again: "He, after He had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of God; from henceforth expecting till his enemies be made his footstool." Neither of those passages can come true on the basis either of extinction or of endless torment. But they will come gloriously true on the basis of final salvation.

So the "millions" and "billions" that our author says have been "going out into the darkness," and into the "blackness of despair," are redeemed as well as we. The author himself says: "Jesus wants every one of these poor creatures told at once of Him and His love." Now, if that is His wish, is He going to be thwarted by any coldness or indifference of ours? We may fail in our duty; but is He going to fail? A thousand times, No! He has all power and all love, as well as all eternity, in which to work out His glorious designs. We cannot conceive of Him as being "satisfied" with either extinction or endless torment. No; the day of grace for the millions and billions will come. "He will be satisfied." His "expecting" will be realized. What wonders of redeeming love eternity will reveal!

In the meantime, our author furnishes no effective incentive to missionary effort.

When the idea of final salvation is generally accepted, I believe there will be awakened an enthusiasm for missions such as the world has never seen.

Since writing the above, I have unexpectedly been in a large missionary meeting where two noted men of the Methodist Church were the chief speakers. Both addresses were most fervid and eloquent. But I noticed that neither of the speakers had any note of definiteness in regard to the fate of the heathen after death. It did seem to me that one of them came once very near to the idea of eternal extinction, but did not candidly commit himself to it. The other seemed to approach the theory of torment, but drew back. The whole performance, eloquent though it was, seemed to me largely shorn of its effectiveness of appeal, because of its indefiniteness. Surely, we want to know what doom the heathen are to be saved from, if we are to be moved to any adequate enterprise or liberality. The few small coins on the collection plates on the occasion referred to, bore unmistakable testimony to the fact that the fervid appeals had produced a very meagre result.

If men really believe in everlasting torment, why do they not plainly say so? If it is true, surely it is the strongest motive that could be urged on behalf of missions. Perhaps ministers think that the time is not yet come for an avowal of the larger view, and that in the meantime it is wise not to commit themselves. But is not that very much the same as to say that they are waiting for the current of popular favor before they dare to be faithful? And does it not argue a want of faith in the truth as a sanctifying and saving power? And is further truth likely to be revealed to us if we deliberately shut our minds to such light as is offered? I say, let the truth prevail, though the heavens should fall.

By the way, one of the gentlemen referred to uses the phrase "eternal death," as many do. I wonder what they mean? It is an ambiguous phrase. It might mean endless torment after death; or it might mean annihilation at death; or it might mean annihilation at some future time. It is surely misleading to use a phrase that may have so many meanings. If some definite idea cannot be advanced, I think the effect will be that the whole matter will be regarded as uncertain, and that there is nothing to fear. And such I believe is largely the position of the Christian world to-day. Could not a consensus of doctrine be arrived at by the various Christian churches—a consensus founded on the best interpretation of the Word; and also on reason?

Only last Sunday I heard a sermon on success in life. And it was a better and more spiritual sermon than many that we hear on that subject. The preacher strongly commended the Bible as the best text book on success; and he was earnest and positive in his distinction between right and wrong. But he gave no hint that evil doers would have any punishment in the next life. In fact, he made no allusion to a next life at all, except in one instance where he spoke of multitudes of men going out into the next life as "miserable failures." Why did he not speak of endless torment? That is one article in his creed; but he seemed not to believe it. A few earnest sentences along that line would have been more effectual, in my view, than his entire sermon.

Or, if he does not believe in endless torment, does he not believe in Restoration? Might he not have uttered some warnings along that line? Surely, it is a tremendous conviction to give a sinful man, that if he does not repent in this life he must do so in the next, though it takes thousands of years, and untold penalties, to bring him to that state of mind. But not a word of this terror did the preacher utter. That would be a repudiation of the endless torment theory, which would be unorthodox, and possibly subject the preacher himself to pains and penalties. So he simply said nothing by way of warning, except failure in this life. And that does not seem to amount to very much after all. Is it worth while to preach a sermon about it? Would not the old philosophy be almost as good, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die?"

Would it not be better to take the suffering incident to the Restoration theory, and be positive about it as a warning rather than the vague and half-hearted reference to eternal punishment, or the omission of any reference to it whatever? The manner in which it is referred to, when spoken of at all, gives one the strong impression that it is not believed. For, if believed, it would certainly not be preached in any vague or heartless way. Even the lurid representations of hell that formerly prevailed, were possibly better; for at least they were sincere.

But it may be said that we have no details of the suffering incident to Restoration, and that therefore such a warning cannot be used with effect. I would say that neither have we any details of endless torment. So the same argument applies. I would say further that we have very meagre details of heavenly joy. But that does not prevent our belief in it. Let it be clearly understood that a knowledge of details is not necessary to belief. It is purely a matter of revelation. There may be good reasons why details are not given. The fact is enough for the present; details will be known in due time.

So the sermon I have referred to related wholly to worldly success, with a mere glance at the possibility of a future life, which in reality favored unbelief. The whole sermon struck me as a kind of religious exploitation of materialism.

Just now I have met with a magazine article in which the phrase "eternal death" is used. The author is an eminent Presbyterian minister, whom I know well. I really could not understand his meaning. I wrote to him asking whether he meant eternal extinction or eternal torment; or whether he threw out the phrase loosely, leaving his readers to take whichever view they chose. Here is his reply:

"I thank you for your kind reference to my articles on the Sunday School Lesson, and note your question about the phrase, 'Eternal Death,' The meaning of the phrase in my mind is largely determined by the meaning of the corresponding phrase, 'Eternal Life.' In His use of the latter phrase, our Lord evidently lays emphasis, not upon the thought of duration, but upon that of quality. Eternal Life is a certain kind of life which He gives to His people now. Similarly, Eternal Death is a state in which people may exist even while they are in this world. It is eternal in regard to duration in this sense, that it has no awakening; its tendency is to persist forever. But that is not to say that God cannot bring one from a state of eternal death into that of eternal life. I do not know whether I have made myself clear, but it is somewhat in this way that the matter presents itself to my mind."

So I am not really much the wiser, except that the reply tends to confirm my opinion as to the ambiguous way in which the phrase is often used.

In my view, such ambiguity is unfortunate in any case, but more especially so when it is used with regard to our eternal future; and even more so when it is used in an article, as in this case, avowedly for children. Does it not lead directly to scepticism? And even if it did not, is it not rather a cruel thing to put upon children the onus of deciding a question of such tremendous importance? Would it not be better to say candidly that we do not know?

To be sure, it may be said that the church is in a state of transition on this question, and that it is better to wait for the church's final decision. But in the meantime, and we do not know for how long, we are sowing the seeds of scepticism. Besides; this avowed waiting for the church's final decision may be only a pious pretense, because of want of courage to declare honest conviction. I say so because I have spoken with many ministers whose convictions are most decidedly contrary to the orthodox doctrines; but there is a marked hesitation in publicly avowing them. Is this expediency or cowardice? What we want is more charity to treat this as an open question, so that men might explore the whole realm of truth, and express their honest convictions without fear.

I see that the Chairman of the London Congregational Union deplores this general lack of warning. He quotes the late Dr. Dale as saying, "No one fears God now."

I have just heard an impassioned address, pleading for men and money to evangelize the multitudes that are pouring into the great North West of Canada. It was natural for the speaker to lay great stress on human effort; but I thought he might have made a casual reference to the Spirit of God as supreme; yet not a word did he utter on that topic. For the most part he presented no higher incentive than the development of character, and the building up of the empire on a foundation of righteousness. But not a word did he utter in regard to the penalty of sin after death on the part of the immigrants, if we fail to give them the Gospel. In fact, there was no hint at all of immortality.

Yet the speaker is a Presbyterian minister who professes to believe in eternal torment. But not a word did he say on that topic. Surely, he might have found the supreme incentive there. It strikes me that a few earnest words along that line would have had more effect than his entire address. That is, if the doctrine of eternal torment is true, and if the preacher believes it. But in all fairness, does not the conviction force itself upon us that he does not believe it? Why, then, does he not say so? Especially, why does he not say so when he is pleading for missions? He is afraid, perhaps, of pains and penalties. Or he may try to convince himself that it is wiser not to be too outspoken; that there is a time for everything; that he might do more harm than good; and so on.

But the truth is divine. No good can come of its suppression, especially on a matter of such eternal moment. And how can we look for further light, if we are unfaithful to the light we have? And what about the character of duplicity we are fostering in our own souls in the name of righteousness?

Listen to these scathing words of warning spoken by Caryle. He says: "What is incredible to thee, thou shalt not at thy soul's peril attempt to believe."

How will it fare with any church that acts so? Will not the light that is in her be darkness? How can we expect to receive growing divine illuminations if we affect to believe what we are convinced is untrue? Would it not be wiser and safer to put all the orthodox Confessions on the shelf—yes, on the top shelf—and take instead such a simple creed as this: "We believe the Scripture to be the Word of God." Then, though we might differ, we would not be afraid to avow, our convictions, and we would not be accounted heretics. Let the dead past bury its dead.

There is another serious consideration. When one of the heathen is converted, especially an intelligent one, how would it do to put into his hands our orthodox Confessions of Faith? Would he not stumble at the doctrine of endless torment? He would think reasonably, of course; not like ourselves who are so dominated by tradition. Then, I say, would he not stumble? If we tried to substantiate the doctrine, would it not be a serious impediment to his faith? On the other hand, if we tried to explain it away, would he not think us a lot of hypocrites?

Professor Faulkner, of Toronto University, said lately, and I think truly, that one reason why theology is now under a cloud, is that men are afraid of heresy. Surely, nothing could be more unfortunate than to carry this spirit into missions.

We do hope that the missionary campaign lately launched will have great success. Only we would like it if it had been launched on a higher plane. It is worthy of the highest.

We are often told that there are a thousand millions of heathen; and our creed teaches us that they are dropping into hell every? day. What could be so compelling a motive in any missionary enterprise as to save some of 'them from such a fate? But it is never mentioned. Is it believed? Certainly, we profess to believe it. But do we? If we do, would it not be the paramount, compelling motive? But instead of that, the main idea is to convert the heathen from savagery to civilization. Make them good citizens—that is the idea. Especially in regard to the influx of immigrants, there seldom seems to be no higher motive than to make them worthy of this great country. I have read just now an article in one of our religious papers, which affects to be very earnest, but to me it seems a mere outburst of quasi-patriotism.

Now is it not time to be honest? The trouble is, that men are afraid to be. We have put the doctrine of endless torment in the Confession, both of the Methodist and of the Presbyterian Churches, and we are afraid to go back on it for fear of the pains and penalties of the church. Moreover, we do not like to confess that for ages we were wrong; and it seems disloyal to go back on the fathers who framed these confessions. So we hang on to them in theory, but repudiate them in fact. Is it not so?

Now, what is the compelling power in all missionary enterprise? To those who believe in endless torment, surely the controlling motive is to save the millions of heathen from such a fate. Both the Presbyterian and Methodist Churches profess to believe in that doctrine. But the singular thing is, that in neither church is it preached. The suspicion is, that it is not believed. And this is more than a suspicion. I myself have heard no sermon on hell, nor any definite reference to it, since I was a child. A Methodist minister in Canada, largely in touch with his brethren, told me lately most positively, that Methodist ministers do not believe in endless torment. Many Presbyterian ministers with whom I have spoken take the same ground.

Now, it is a hard thing to say that a doctrine of such eternal moment is openly professed, yet inwardly repudiated. But if it were really believed, would it not be preached—yes, preached morning, noon, and night? For there are reckoned to be a thousand millions of heathen in distant lands, besides all the other millions that we have here at home. So all these heathen are supposed to be dropping by the thousand into hell every day. And consider; there are a thousand millions of them, and their number is continually increasing.

Would it not then be the main incentive to give these uncounted millions the Gospel, in order to save them from such a doom? There may be other considerations; but in all consistency, is not this the pressing one? Yet not once have I heard this matter referred to in any late missionary address. There was a little spiritual truth in them all. But the chief motive presented was, to convert the heathen from savagery to civilization. So the whole performance usually seemed to me not much more than an exploitation of materialism.

Then, if ministers do not believe in endless torment, why do they not say so? I can imagine two reasons. First, as I have said, there is the fear of pains and penalties. A man may lose his position; and that is a serious consideration. Then there is an unwillingness to go back on the fathers who framed these creeds.

But do either or both of these reasons justify conscientious men in suppressing a truth of such momentous importance? A thousand times, No! Candor and honesty first; veneration for the fathers after. Would it not conduce to real success if this matter were maturely and honestly considered? It might arouse some amount of disunion and debate. But would it not lift the whole tone of the missionary movement to a far higher plane? And might we not believe that it would lead to more sustained effort, and far greater success?

At all events, there is one matter well worth considering. How can the Spirit of Truth lead us into larger visions of Truth if we willingly, tamper with our most sacred convictions? Let us remember that there are growing revelations. May we be of an open mind, and so in an attitude to receive them!

It does seem to me that much of the activity of the evangelical churches is in a large measure discounted by this want of candor. If earnest men only knew how amenable the world would become to the Gospel, and what a glad day they would usher in when they would candidly renounce the doctrine of endless torment, I believe the majority would do it. Surely, this would be one of the brightest days that has ever dawned on the world.

Just now I have had a strange experience. On a certain Sabbath morning I opened the Bible at random at the eleventh chapter of the Romans. That, you know, is the great chapter about the Restoration of the Jews. I had read some verses of that chapter, when there flashed on my mind the idea that here we have a most profound argument for spiritual Restoration. I had not been thinking at all of Restoration at the time; but here the subject was forced upon me in quite a new light. As I read on, that conviction grew. From the point of view of Restoration, the argument of the apostle seemed coherent, profound, glorious. From any other standpoint it seemed to me, and had always seemed, a mystery. All mystery was cleared up now. The Restoration of God's favored people is clearly foretold; but orthodoxy had never thought of locating the event in the next life. But it has ever been a great tax on men's ingenuity to show how the event can occur in this life. For we cannot ignore facts, and facts are all against such a conception.

Even if in future generations the Jews who are then living are all turned to God, as we believe they will, what about the millions and millions who have died? The enigma receives a glorious solution when we realize that the future life is to be the time of the Restoration. Oh, yes; the prophecy will be fulfilled; God's ancient people will be restored. Divine power and grace are not limited to this short epoch of time; they are from everlasting to everlasting. Surely, here is a theme for heaven's eternal songs!