Present Enthusiasm for Missions—Former Lassitude—The Basis of
Missionary Enterprise—Supposed Damnation of the Heathen—If Really
Believed, Would Drive Us to Frenzy—Ministers' Monday Meeting
—Pretence Cuts the Nerve of Enthusiasm—Restoration the True Incentive
—Effective Because Reasonable—Torment Not Really Believed—The Heart
Often Truer Than the Head—Necessity for Preparatory State—Could not
Have Details Revealed—Orthodoxy of the Torment View—Trying to
Believe It—Be Not Afraid of the Truth—Extreme Calvinists Signally
Honored—The Reason Why—Our Innate God-given Convictions—Meagre
Expenditure for Missions—Tacit Acknowledgement That Endless Suffering
Is Not Believed.

Would not the doctrine of Restoration, as I have tried to commend it, cut the nerve of enthusiasm for missions? No, I think not; but it would provide a saner basis for them. For what is the true basis of missions? Is it not the command of our Lord to preach the Gospel to every creature?

That the command extends down to our own time is clear from the fact that the disciples were commanded to go into all the world. They could not do so in their own time; so the command extends to their followers. Moreover, Christ said he would be with them until the end of the world. But they were not to continue to the end of the world; so the command was intended not only for them but those who would succeed them. Thus the duty comes home to the Christian church now, and cannot be evaded.

INCREASED INTEREST AND SYMPATHY

And all the Christian churches are agreed that this duty has been laid upon them, The churches are alive to this duty as they never were before. And this is one of the most hopeful signs of the age. It does seem at times as if society were getting worse at the core; yet in regard to sympathy and helpfulness, especially in regions remote, it is certainly improving. And this increased interest and sympathy relates both to the bodies and the souls of men. This age has witnessed marvels of kindness and enterprise that would have been impossible only a few years ago.

Surely it is time. It must be confessed that the church in general has been very slow to take up the subject of missions with any zeal. There was great activity in the first century of the Christian era, and a little later. If it had only been sustained until the present time, possibly the whole world would have been evangelized. But there was a deplorable lapse of interest and of effort. And it was long continued. We might say that for sixteen hundred years the church was almost indifferent on the matter. But now there is renewed enthusiasm and enterprise.

This long lapse of interest should certainly make us moderate in our interpretation of Scripture. Here were the Saviour's words, clearly before the eyes of the church for sixteen hundred years; and it seems we did not see or hear them. He commanded us—and it was one of his last commands—to preach the Gospel to the world. But we took almost no notice. The world might have been dying in heathenism, but we seemed not to care. We had not the spiritual alertness to realize that the words of Christ had any application to ourselves. Such torpor of spiritual understanding and sentiment, I say, ought to keep us from being unduly positive, or self-assertive, in our interpretation of Scripture. Happily there is renewed interest now; and in this all the churches are agreed.

WHAT BECOMES OF THE HEATHEN?

But what is the basis of all missionary enterprise? I have said that it is the command of Christ. It is not necessary to believe that the heathen who do not hear the Gospel are lost. There were certainly some heathens who were not far from the kingdom of God. The possibility of men being raised to such a high spiritual level, even without the Gospel, gives us a hint of the ways and means that God can use for the ultimate salvation of the heathen world.

And it is to be noted that Christ made no special appeal to us in order to evoke our enthusiasm for the heathen. He gave no hint that there is but the one alternative of damnation if they do not receive and accept the Gospel. He had evidently no morbid hysteria on that ground. He simply gave the command; and that ought to be sufficient. He knows what possibilities of grace are in reserve; but that was not the time nor the place to speak of them.

Besides, if we could realize that every heathen who does not hear and accept the Gospel is doomed to eternal fire, the thought would drive us to frenzy. We cannot bear the thought of a person, though he were an enemy, being even burned to death. In such a case, there would be a crowd of ardent sympathizers, though it were known that their sympathy would be unavailing. Failing all relief, there would be sighs, and groans, and prayers on every hand. It is not possible to witness unmoved such a scene of suffering. And it lasts but a short time. But the supposed case of the heathen is endless agony; and it does not move us. The only conclusion is that it is not really believed. We may think we believe it; we may count it orthodox to believe it; but if we did really believe it, it would drive us to insanity.

A QUASI ENTHUSIASM.

Therefore any argument drawn from the supposed damnation of the heathen is unreal. We may stir up a quasi enthusiasm; we may be moved for the time; but we are not by any means moved to the level of the fate which we deplore. If we really believed it, as so many profess, we would spend our last dollar, and make all but superhuman efforts, to take the Gospel to the heathen. But instead of that, we are content to hear at long intervals a few points of information from the minister, take up a collection for Foreign Missions, to which perhaps we contribute a few cents or dollars, and then dismiss the whole matter from our minds.

Some time ago I was present at a ministers' Monday morning meeting. A brother read a paper on Foreign Missions. He and his congregation are noted for their enthusiasm and liberality in that sphere. When he was making his plea for increased liberality and enterprise, he pictured the heathen dropping into eternal torment one by one—I think at the average rate of one every minute. When he had done there was a period of profound silence on the part of the brethren who were present. I saw that many of them were confused. They could not in their hearts endorse the brother's argument; and it would be unorthodox to contravene it.

COULD NOT REST IN THEIR BEDS.

It will thus be seen that the church is in a very unsettled position on this question. Good men are trying to believe what in their hearts they repudiate. They think it a sign of soundness in the faith to believe in the doctrine of eternal torment. If they really believed it they could not rest in their beds at night, nor follow their usual avocations by day. But happily they do not really believe it.

Thus the theory of eternal torment has this everlasting drawback that men will not believe it. It may be, and has been, accounted the orthodox view; and men may try to believe it, but as a matter of fact they do not. To think that a person will suffer forever, and ever, is beyond actual belief. Just think for a while of torment without end. Lengthen out the time in your imagination, and when you have reached the utmost stretch of imagination, then think that eternity is only beginning, and that through eternal cycles of aeons it will go on forever and ever, and ever.

It used to be a favorite method of illustrating the eternity of torment to suppose that after a million of years one grain of soil were taken from the earth; then after another million of years, another grain; then after another million of years, another grain; and so on until the whole of the earth had disappeared; then repeat the proceeding ten thousand millions of times; and then eternity would be only beginning! Imagine, if you can, a soul in torment all these uncounted ages; and then think of the process being repeated over and over again, without end, without end, without end! No man can believe it.

But if you tell him he is to suffer until he is reclaimed, he can believe that; it comes easily within the scope of his imagination—yes, and of his reason too. Hence it will have more effect on a man's conviction, and will produce a greater influence on his life, to be told that if he dies impenitent he will suffer until he repents, and is reformed.

Now when we consider the natural affinity which the mind has for truth, and when we recognize the impossibility of believing in endless torment, we have a strong presumption that the theory is not true. At all events, in the present unsettled state of the question would it not be a wholesome thing to take the more limited view of suffering, and have men believe it in their inmost souls, rather than the view of eternal torment, with a hesitating, half hearted presentation of it, and consequently without producing genuine conviction? This is a serious question; let all serious minds ponder it.

The want of candor in expressing definite conviction on this subject seems to me to be a formidable barrier to church union. The following article of mine on this point lately appeared in The Homiletic Review:

The contemplated organic union of the Presbyterian, Methodist, and Congregational Churches in Canada has not yet been consummated. One thing that involved some delay has been the discovery of a basis of doctrine that would suit the three churches. At length such a basis has been formulated. It contains one statement, however, which I am rather surprised to see. It says that the doom of the finally impenitent will be "eternal death." Now what does that mean? Might it not be honestly taken to mean two very different things? Might it not be taken to mean "eternal torment" or "eternal extinction?" The manifest ambiguity of such a statement would seem to me highly objectionable. I quoted the phrase to two thoughtful friends, and asked them what it meant. They made a long pause, and said they did not know.

If the phrase has been adopted on purpose to make it the expression of the two views referred to, such a course is surely wanting in candor and honesty. To be sure it is a Scripture phrase; but inasmuch as it is taken to express two very different views, it ought not to be adopted. By all means let us be clear and simple and straightforward.

There has been too much vagueness on the part of preachers on this most solemn theme. Lately I heard a preacher speaking of unsaved men as "miserable failures, going out into the darkness." Now what did he mean? Either he has no definite idea himself, or he judged it unwise to express it; or he was afraid to express it. Does not such a statement as I have quoted pander directly to infidelity?

Surely the time has come when we ought candidly to recognize that on this question there may be a legitimate difference of opinion. There are men whose godliness and ability are beyond all question, who hold diverse views on this matter. Whether it be the theory of eternal torment or extinction or Restoration that is held, let us concede all honor and confidence to the men who hold it. The more of that spirit we really possess, the sooner will the divine light break upon our souls.

With regard to a basis on which conscientious men can really unite, is it well to go so much into detail? Mere creeds will never conserve the truth. Men will think, whether we will or no; and men will have diverse views. Do we not put a premium on dishonesty by constructing a creed for all details, and expecting men to subscribe to that creed? Have we not had too much of that in the past? A noted official in the Methodist body told me lately that he does not believe in eternal torment, but that if it were known, he would lose his position. But eternal torment is in the Methodist creed, and he had profest his adherence to it. It is so with many Presbyterians. I have spoken privately with several, and not one profest to believe in that doctrine. But we say, "Truth is mighty and will prevail." Yes, I believe it will; but it would surely prevail faster if we were always loyal to it. Besides, is there anything that makes more directly for the degeneracy of character than such evasion?

To avoid all peril of this kind, how would it do to take for a basis of doctrine this simple statement, "I believe the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be the Word of God?" Or, "I believe the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to contain the Word of God?" Then, with further "light breaking from God's holy word," we would not need to expunge anything from our creed, or add anything to it.

Lately I heard a most fervid appeal on behalf of missions. But the speaker really gave no worthy, definite incentive, by which the appeal would be made effective. He gave no hint whatever as to the fate of the heathen if we failed to Christianize them. He did not say they would have to pass through pains in the next life necessary to their reformation. Nor did he say they would be extinguished at death, or some time after. Nor did he say they would drop into eternal fire. Any of these three possibilities if duly presented, would be more or less an incentive to action. But he simply referred to the heathen being saved in some vague way, which almost meant nothing. The nerve of enthusiasm for missions is cut if the appeal cannot be enforced by some definite incentive to action; but usually there is no such incentive advanced. There is no doubt or hesitation as to the positive part of salvation; but as to the negative part of it there is no clear-cut deliverance.

The presumption is that there is usually no definite conviction. In the evangelical churches there is some faint survival of the doctrine of endless torment; but the preacher rarely or never presents it; it may be because he does not really believe it; or because he knows that the people will not believe it. I say, would it not be better to present the idea of Restoration, and present the view strongly, with a pronounced accent of conviction? Not only is such a course in my view required by the claims of honesty, but the effect would be better beyond all computation.

I have just referred to the incentive that we have to impel us to a world-wide Evangelization. We have seen that the command of Christ was practically unheeded for many hundreds of years. We can imagine that the church will never again lapse to that low level of insensibility.

But, along with the command, we have a worthy incentive in the doctrine of Restoration. If we can only realize that by faithful missionary effort the heathen will require a pruning and development when they pass out of this life, will not that be an effective and worthy incentive to the best efforts of which we are capable?

It may be thought by some that the old doctrine of endless torment would be more effective as an incentive. At the first glance it may appear so. What could be more effective than the warning that men will drop into an endless hell if they do not receive the offers of grace before they die? That was relied upon formerly. It was thought that no other warning would have such force. But as a matter of fact it failed, except that in some cases it produced a temporary panic. And why did it fail? Simply because it was not heartily believed. Men might think they believed it; they might try to believe it; they might think it orthodox to believe it; but as a matter of fact they did not believe it. If they had, they would have moved heaven and earth to avoid such a doom, both for themselves and others.

The doctrine of Restoration has no such disadvantage to contend with. It is credible in the highest degree. It is an urgent incentive, and a reasonable one. If a sinner goes out into the next life unreconciled to God, there must be a terrible looking for of judgment. He will be reclaimed; but the age-long pruning he may have to undergo is a fearful thing to contemplate. If he knew his Lord's will, and did it not, he will be beaten with many stripes.

There is nothing incredible to him in that. He sees the reasonableness of it. An appeal of that kind will move him, when any picture of hell fire will have but a small effect. I believe this is the standpoint to which the churches will have to come.

In corroboration of the idea that even Christian people do not believe in eternal torment, I would say that lately I met a lady, and I inquired the latest news of her friend who had slipped and broken his leg. She said that she had just come from the hospital, and that he was dying. She added that it would be a relief when he was gone, for he would then be out of pain.

Now this lady is a member of a church that professes to believe in eternal torment, but she had no idea of her friend going into everlasting suffering when he died. He made no profession of religion; but that circumstance seemed to give her no concern. Is not such the general feeling? And thus it is that many practically repudiate their own creed. They hang on in theory to the doctrine of endless suffering, because it is in the creed of the church; but practically they deny it. Would it not be far better to believe steadfastly in a state of discipline and purification? Would not that be a much better incentive to prepare for the end of life, than the half heathenish idea that there is nothing whatever to fear? As a gentleman said to me lately, when speaking of the Roman Catholic fear of Purgatory, "The Methodists and Presbyterians would need some kind of purgatory too."

It may be objected that no details are revealed of such a preparatory state; and some may be so foolish as to think that this is an argument against its existence. I have surely only to remind you that neither have we details of the blessedness of heaven. In fact we could not have such details. That would probably involve a great deal of the history and condition of other worlds, which would be utterly confusing to us at present, and would serve no good end. We have enough to stimulate hope, but not enough to pander to curiosity.

That the advocates of eternal torment have no really deep conviction of its truth, let me also give a quotation that I have just met with:

"That its advocates themselves have little or no faith in it is very manifest from the fact that it has no power over their course of action. While all the denominations of Christendom profess to believe the doctrine that eternal torment and endless, hopeless despair will constitute the punishment of the wicked, they are all quite at ease in allowing the wicked to take their own course, while they themselves pursue the even tenor of their way.

"Chiming bells and pealing organs, artistic choirs, and costly edifices, and upholstered pews, and polished oratory which more and more avoids any reference to this alarming theme, afford rest and entertainment to the fashionable congregations that gather on the Lord's day, and are known to the world as the churches of Christ and the representatives of his doctrines. But they seem little concerned about the eternal welfare of the multitudes, or even of themselves and their own families, though one would naturally presume that with such awful possibilities in view they would be almost frantic in their efforts to rescue the perishing. The plain inference is that they do not believe it."

Then follows a reference to the "Mental Bias" of the early translators, as accounting for their erroneous translations, because they were just breaking away from the old papal system. Then the later translators are scathed for what the author calls "duplicity and cowardice" in continuing such errors.

Consider, too, that we are God's own children. This is no mere figure of speech. We are as truly God's children as our children are our own. If our children are evil, it is our glory to reclaim them. No matter how bad they are, we could not bear the thought of even one of them being in torment. But according to some, God can bear the thought, can even exult in it—that myriads of His children are in torment of the most horrible kind, and that for ever and ever. And it is conceived that this is so, notwithstanding the story of the Prodigal Son!

More than that, we hear the Father sighing out of His heart the broken words, "O that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end!" Yes, and we see Christ weeping over the doomed city, and we hear His pathetic words. "If thou hadst known—O if thou hadst only known the things that belong to thy peace!" And yet God is conceived of as contemplating with equanimity the everlasting torment of His own children.

Happily, however, men do not really believe in eternal torment. They may try to do so; it may seem orthodox; they may profess their faith in it; but their heart is often better than their head, and they do not really believe it. On this point, I will transcribe a paragraph from Rev. Arthur Chambers. It is so true, and so well expressed, that it will commend itself to every candid mind. He says:

"Thank God for the happiness of humanity! Man's intuitive instincts are better than his formulated creeds. The hope is secretly cherished that the grace of God, because it is the grace of an infinite Being, must and will operate beyond the limits defined by a narrow theology. No Christian, however staunch to the pitiless teaching of the school to which he belongs, ever brings himself really to think that any one beloved by him in the World Beyond is irretrievably lost. His creed, perhaps gives him no hope in regard to that one who dies without religion; but his own heart refuses to surrender its hope; and so he keeps his reason, and his faith in God."

I know there are those who accept the doctrine of Restoration, who yet think it an unsafe position to take in the case of some. They cite the case of parties who having accepted the larger view, drift into infidelity. The reason given is, that the doctrine of endless torment has been so long identified with orthodoxy that when that doctrine is surrendered, the vital doctrines of Christianity are in danger of going along with it.

But I do not think we need have any grave fears of that kind. For one thing, we ought not to be afraid of truth having an evil influence. On the contrary, it is a sanctifying power. Hence our Lord's prayer. "Sanctify them through Thy truth; Thy Word is truth." So if a man drifts into infidelity it is not the truth that leads him there. I imagine it is half truth that leads him astray; and a half truth is often really a falsehood. So if a man takes up the idea of Restoration in a careless or flippant spirit, thinking chiefly of it as a happy escape from punishment, it is a half truth; to him it is really a falsehood. But let him consider also the facts by which the idea of Restoration is sustained; let him be imbued thoroughly with these; and I think there will be little chance of him drifting into infidelity. I think on the contrary he will be far more devout. He will be let into such views of the wisdom, love and power of God as will more than offset any tendency to rationalism.

Besides, we know not what punishment, either in duration or intensity may await sinful men in the next life. We do not claim that suffering is abolished. Very far from that. We only claim that it is not of endless duration, and that it is of a reformatory character. If a man is thoroughly imbued with such ideas, he will be very far from being a sceptic. He will realize that the truth is a sanctifying power.

On this basis you give him something that he can really believe. You can tell him that he must suffer until he surrenders. He can believe that thoroughly. It appeals to his reason. But if you tell him that whether he surrenders or not, he must suffer forever and ever and ever, without any hope of release through all eternity, he does not really believe that; it is entirely beyond him; and it makes but a slight impression. The truth is the main thing; and the truth is divine; yes, divine; both in its nature and effects.

We have to remember, too, that there is such a thing as turning the grace of God into lasciviousness. The German proverb that the best things may become the worst, is along the same line; but it is commonplace compared with the trenchant words of Jude. According to him, even "grace" may become "lasciviousness." We have there a solemn warning. It does seem to me that really worthy thoughts of God are not compatible with the idea of endless torment.

In favor of the doctrine of eternal torment, it may be claimed that God has signally honored many men who hold, or have held, this view, and that therefore that view is the correct one. In the matter of revivals, especially, were not such men signally owned and honored? Witness the earlier Methodists, and later the Salvation Army. Especially think of Mr. Finney, under whose ministry there was a mighty revival.

ENCUMBERED THOUGH IT BE.

But there are two or three facts that ought to be remembered in this connection. One is, that God is often pleased to own even a small modicum of truth, encumbered though it be with a great deal of error. Such may have been Finney's case in particular. He preached the Gospel; that was the secret of his genuine success. Men were simply frightened by his lurid descriptions of hell. So extreme was he in this respect that strong men trembled, and Finney had to be pulled by the coat tails that he 'might go no further. So it was not his awful descriptions of the lost that were so blessed. It was the modicum of Gospel truth, presented with great earnestness, that really told.

Let me give two examples of the same principle from New Testament history. There was a certain Jew named Apollos. It is said of him that he was "mighty in the Scriptures," that he was "instructed in the way of the Lord," that he "mightily convinced the Jews." Yes; but at the same time he "knew only the baptism of John." Great as that man was, he was taken in hand by those obscure Christians. Aquila and Priscilla, who "expounded unto him the way of God more perfectly." The truth he had was encumbered for a time with a great deal of error; but it was owned and blessed notwithstanding.

WANT OF PROPORTION.

A more notable case was that of Peter. You remember his glorious response to our Lord's challenge, "Whom say ye that I am?" Peter promptly and gladly responded, "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." By that confession, Peter has covered his name with immortal honor. You remember, too, his sermon on the day of Pentecost, when three thousand men were converted. You recall also that sermon a little later when the converts numbered five thousand. Yes; but the man who was thus owned and honored really believed that the Gospel was for the Jews alone. Notwithstanding all his advantages, he was really a subject of that delusion. And he continued so for some time. Three miracles had really to be wrought to convince Peter to the contrary. This want of proportion in the man's illumination is really marvellous. It goes a long way to explain many revivals since that time.

Thus, Peter—grand apostle though he was—and notwithstanding that for three years he had been the bosom friend of Christ—had very narrow views as to the intended scope of the Gospel. He believed that the Gentiles were common and unclean; and it took, first a vision, and then a miraculous experience, to cure him of that insular idea. But he was cured, and never went back to his former contracted ideas.

So, it seems to me, the Christian World of to-day needs a vision along the same line; but larger. They have to take in the millions of un-Christian people in Christian lands, together with the uncounted millions of heathen during all time; and they have to learn that from the divine standpoint not one individual of them all is common or unclean. We believe that every one of them is destined for glory, and honor, and immortality. It may take a long time, and methods which as yet we know nothing of, to work out that glorious issue; but we cannot conceive of anything less as being worthy of eternal wisdom, power, and love.

From this point of view there can be no uncertainty about the end. Whether we think of God as desiring the highest character and happiness of His creatures; or whether we think of the means that Christ has used, and is using, to secure that end; or whether we think of the capacity of man for attaining the highest and the best—we can have no doubt that suffering will ultimately be done away, and that God will be all in all! That is, everything in everybody! Let us try to realize it. It is no mere golden dream.

I heard lately of a boy in Chicago under whose addresses people were being continually converted; and it was said there was nothing peculiar about his addresses but want of grammar. It is thus that God often chooses the weak things of the world to confound the mighty. The mere fact, then, that successful revivalists believed in the old theory of eternal torment, is no proof, nor even an indication, that it is true.

What a recoil we experience now when we read Jonathan Edwards' appalling description of sinners in the hands of an angry God! Even our beloved Spurgeon fell into this most horrible mistake. In all such cases it was logical enough. These men were but honestly following up the necessary result of their creed. Yet it may be well to quote Spurgeon's own words, that we may see what the old doctrine infallibly leads to. He says: "When thou diest, thy soul will be tormented alone. That will be a hell for it. But at the Day of Judgment, thy body will join thy soul, and then thou wilt have twin hells; thy soul sweating drops of blood, and thy body suffused with agony. In fire, exactly like that we have on earth, thy body will lie, asbestos-like, forever consumed, all thy veins roads for the feet of pain to travel on, every nerve a string, on which the devil shall forever play his diabolical tune of hell's unutterable lament."

No doubt such descriptions are awful. But are they not reasonable, if eternal torment is true? It is no use to turn away awe-stricken from such details; they are quite in harmony with the main idea of torment. Get the main idea right, and all such details will disappear. In fact, they have largely disappeared now. Why? Because the main idea is really disbelieved. Yes, disbelieved, though it is confessed. Surely, this disloyalty to what in our inmost souls we believe to be the truth is disloyalty to the Spirit of Truth.

Spurgeon's words are horrible enough; but they are far exceeded by
others. Take the case of the Rev. J. Furniss, in a book of his on the
"Sight of Hell." This author would be fiendish, if he were not silly.
Here are his words:

"Little child, if you go to hell, there will be a devil at your side to strike you. He will go on striking you every minute forever and ever without end. The first stroke will make your body as bad as the body of Job, covered from head to foot with sores and ulcers. The second stroke will make your body twice as bad as the body of Job. The third stroke will make your body three times as bad as the body of Job. The fourth stroke will make your body four times as bad as the body of Job. How, then will your body be, after the devil has been striking it every moment for a hundred millions of years without stopping?

"Perhaps at this moment, seven o'clock in the evening, a child is just going to hell. To-morrow evening at seven o'clock, go and knock at the gates of hell, and ask what the child is doing. The devils will go and look. They will come back again, and say, The child is burning,' Go in a week and ask what the child is doing. You will get the same answer, 'It is burning,' Go in a year and ask. The same answer comes, 'It is burning.' Go in a million years and ask the same question. The answer is just the same, 'It is burning in the fire!'"

This is lurid enough; but is it not logical? It does seem to me that in this as in many other instances there is a great want in the popular imagination. Men will think it reasonable to believe in endless suffering; consider it even a sure sign of orthodoxy; sometimes speak of it glibly; but when the idea is drawn out into detail, they will shrink back from the detail in horror.

The fact is, that the theory does not bear to be presented in detail; when it is, even its supporters are horrified. Yet the most lurid details are strictly logical. For there is no conceivable detail of agony to be compared with that of its eternal duration. The most dreadful suffering that can be imagined pales almost into insignificance compared with the idea of endless—endless—endless duration. Even a mild discomfort, if eternally prolonged, infinitely surpasses in amount the most fearful suffering that has an end. But men will accept the theory of endless suffering almost as a commonplace, yet recoil with horror from any presentation of it in detail.

The fact that it does not bear to be even thought of in detail goes a long way to discredit the whole theory. A little development of the imagination here would be more effectual with the majority of men than all the logic in the world. And let us not think that imagination is some kind of a wild and exuberant offshoot of pure reason. No; it is a God-given faculty, and of a quality almost divine. As Ruskin says, "It is the greatest power of the soul."

Just think for a moment that sane men and kindly men could really believe in the lurid descriptions which I have quoted! Yet this passed for orthodoxy! Is it not a marvel that men ever believed it, or tried to believe it? Only think of infinite love, infinite power, and infinite wisdom, combining to accomplish such a result! It is almost beyond belief that men of ordinary feeling, and with the Bible in their hands, ever tried to believe it. For the truth must commend itself to the heart as well as to the mind. If it does not, we ought to be on our guard.

On this most serious aspect of the case, I quote from Carlyle. He says:

"What the light of your mind, which is the direct inspiration of the Almighty, pronounces incredible, that, in God's name, leave uncredited; at your peril do not try believing that."

It will be seen that what I have elsewhere called an "affinity for truth," Carlyle calls the "direct inspiration of the Almighty." There is no contradiction. The one phrase notes the effect of our intuition; the other recognizes its origin. At all events, this mental and moral repugnance to the theory is a strong indication that it is not true.

On this most serious aspect of the case, let us pause for a moment longer. The more our mind dwells on it the more pronounced is our conviction that it is not true. Just think of one soul being consigned to everlasting torment. Through ages and ages interminable, to be succeeded by other ages forever and ever, the agony is prolonged, with the absolute certainty that forever and ever there will be no release or mitigation.

Would not the very thought of such a fate drive us insane? Surely it would; yes, though the supposed criminal had committed the most atrocious crimes, and though he had done us the worst conceivable wrong. But here we are, giving our minds to business, our hearts to pleasure, and our nights to sleep, yet all the while professing to believe that one of our fellow creatures, perhaps one whom we have known, it may be one whom we have loved, is in everlasting torment. Yet if a stranger was confined in a burning house, we would make the most frantic efforts to relieve him; and if we failed, the very memory of his fate would be painful to us all our days.

But the case we are trying to imagine is very different. He is no stranger, but one with whom we were acquainted; perhaps one of our own family; possibly one whom we have loved as our own life. And he is not suffering for a few minutes only, but forever and ever, without any possibility of relief. Yet we go about our business or our pleasure without giving him a thought. Is there not a strong presumption that deep down in our souls we do not really believe that he is in eternal torment? We may try to believe it; orthodoxy may tell us that it is true; but do we really believe it? Our innate, God-given conviction may turn out to be nearer the truth than our creed.

And let it be remembered that the supposed torment is eternal fire; yes, eternal fire. We may conceive of the fire as being changed somehow to suit our spiritual condition; but not less is it eternal fire. And we calmly think of such endless fire as a possibility!

Yet we have thought of but one person as enduring such a fate. But if it is the portion of even one, it must be so for countless millions. For millions have lived and died in heathenism, and millions are dying in heathenism now. Other millions in Christian lands are passing away in practically the same condition. And all of these are our brothers and sisters of the human race. By far the great majority of them had no chance of hearing the joyful sound. Yet some of them rose to sublime heights of character. And yet they are all consigned to this holocaust of everlasting fire!

Consider also that the Being who is thus supposed to deal with these uncounted myriads is a Being of mercy inconceivably tender; of a love that is from everlasting to everlasting; of a wisdom that is infallible; of a power that can use any means for the execution of His will. Then ask yourself this question, and answer it truly from your own soul: Is it possible to believe that such a Being has nothing better in store for His own children? Surely, surely, such a fate as we profess to believe must have had its origin in the heart and brain of a fiend! That it can be seriously entertained by devout and reasonable men we think must be accounted for on these grounds, that it comes to us with the stamp of orthodoxy, and that it is not candidly examined. Otherwise, to every sincere and candid mind, and to every heart that has any genuine feeling, it would seem revolting and incredible.

With regard to the possibility of a man trying to persuade himself that he really believes with mind what he utterly repudiates with his heart, I have already quoted some very trenchant words from Caryle. In another passage, he speaks of "the most orthodox of mortals making the impious attempt to put out the eyes of his mind, to persuade himself to believe that he believes." Then, he says: "Away with it; in the name of God, come out of it, all true men."

Such forced complacency in the knowledge that loved friends are consigned to hopeless torment, is repugnant to our humanity; yes, and most repugnant when humanity is at its best. On such themes some people do seem to lose their common sense and common feeling. If there were nothing else, such outrageous conceptions ought to be enough to discredit the whole theory of eternal torment. But we can endure the idea of temporary separation, when we know that such separation is necessary, and that it will issue in everlasting reunion.

As to the sincerity of our professed belief that thousands of the heathen are every day dropping into everlasting fire, let me give a diagram which I have just met with, showing the relative expenditure in the United States for various commodities per year; and the amount contributed for Foreign Missions. And yet, this is a liberal showing for missions, compared with that of many other Christian countries.

================================================================= Liquor
===================================== Expenditures for Meat
=================================== Tobacco, Cigars, Etc.
================================= Bread, including Flour and Meal
=============================== Iron and Steel
============================== Dairy and Egg Products
=========================== Sawed Lumber
========================= Cotton Goods
======================= Boots and Shoes
====================== Woolen Goods
=================== Sugar and Molasses
================= Fruit
=============== Public School Education
============= Furniture
=========== Tea and Coffee
== Salaries of Ministries
= Foreign Missions

Now, will any person pretend that we are sincere in our professed belief that the heathen are dropping by the thousand every day into everlasting fire? Surely, if we really believed that, and if we believed that there is only one way of averting such a fate, we would move heaven and earth to avert it. The common-sense inference is, that we do not really believe it. We may flatter ourselves that we do; long usage may aid the deception; but let us be honest with ourselves, and see how the case really stands. We may think that it would never do to drop the traditional attitude; but let us be sure of this, that self-deception can never be an aid to true religion. In this as in all things, let truth have the right of way.

* * * * *

I have just seen an extract from a Canadian Journal which speaks for itself. Here it is:

"To enter Canada costs a Chinaman $500. Last year thirteen hundred and eighty paid the tax, the treasury of the country receiving from them $690,000. The Missionary Witness makes the statement that combined contributions of the Christians of Canada for the evangelization of heathen nations was only about half as much as the Chinese paid for the privilege of living in Canada. It asks, Is it not amazing that in prosperous Canada 1,380 men cannot be secured who will voluntarily tax themselves to send the Gospel to heathen lands as much as 1,380 heathens are taxed by us to land on our shores? The love of Christ constraineth us! How much?"

Have we not here a practical acknowledgment that the idea of the heathen dropping every moment into endless fire is not really believed?

As I say elsewhere, this revulsion of heart and mind is a strong plea that the doctrine is not true. And it is a fearful thing to quench that inner light. I have already quoted Carlyle's trenchant words on this point. But I have just now met with another saying of his of still more scathing intensity; and I would ask you to ponder his words well. He says: "What is incredible to thee, thou shalt not, at thy soul's peril, attempt to believe. Elsewhither for a refuge, or die here. Go to Perdition if thou must—but not with a lie in thy mouth; by the Eternal Maker, no!"

To be sure, such courage and candor might cost dear. Some years ago there was an able and conscientious minister of the Canadian Presbyterian Church who took the risk of being candid. He was a most lovable man; able, eloquent, active, helpful, humorous, candid, tender, devout; in fact, possessed of nearly every desirable quality. But he had the larger hope; and one day he unguardedly gave expression to it in the words of Tennyson:

"O yet we trust that, somehow, good
Will be the final goal of ill—"

and so on. Immediately he was a marked man, and the question was not allowed to settle until he was placed on trial for heterodoxy. There was considerable turmoil and excitement; but ultimately some kind of a compromise was reached by which his orthodoxy was vindicated. He told me that if he were once out of the church of which he was then minister, he could get no other. I suppose he meant that he could not accept the standards of the church; and of course that attitude would debar him.

SOUNDNESS IN THE FAITH.

At the same time it is but right that the Church should protect its soundness in the faith by some form of subscription. The trouble is, however, that the form now in force is subscribed to with reservations. Then what reservations? They are not defined; so it comes to this, that each subscriber makes his own reservations.

As evidence that such is the case, I may say that no minister in the Presbyterian Church of Canada, with whom I have spoken—and I have spoken with many—really believes in endless torment. Yet that doctrine is clearly stated in the Confession of Faith which ministers formally accept. The corrective of such a state of things in my opinion would be the adoption of a simple evangelical creed that men of the most diverse views on other matters could honestly accept.

Even in reference to the manner in which the creed is accepted in the Presbyterian Church of Canada, there seems to me to be a want of candor. When a minister is being received, or installed in a charge, he is asked if he is prepared to sign the Confession of Faith. He is not asked to sign it then and there. To express his willingness to sign it does not seem to be so much of a tax on his candor as actually to sign it. Such a proceeding seems to me to put somewhat of a premium on insincerity. It is well known that there are reservations. Would it not be more honest to accept a short statement of evangelical truth, which could be accepted without any reservation?