CHAPTER XVIII.
ON THE PECULIAR MORALITY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT, AS IT AFFECTS NATIONS AND POLITICAL SOCIETIES.
After having seen the uselessness, and even the danger, to individuals, of the perfections, the virtues, and the duties, which Christianity peculiarly commands; let us now see whether it has a more happy influence upon politics; or whether it produces real happiness among the nations with whom this religion is established, and the spirit of it faithfully observed. Let us do so, and we shall find, that wherever Christianity is established and obeyed, it establishes a set of laws directly opposed to those of a well ordered national society; and it soon makes this disagreement and incompatibility distinctly to be felt.
Politics are intended to maintain union and concord among the citizens. Christianity, though it preaches universal love, and commands its followers to live in peace; yet, by a strange inconsistency, consequentially annihilates the effect of these excellent precepts, by the inevitable divisions it causes among its followers, who necessarily understand differently the Old and New Testaments, because the latter is not only irreconcilably contradictory to the former, but it is even inconsistent with itself. From the very commencement of Christianity, we perceive very violent disputes among its founders and teachers; and through every succeeding century, we find, in the history of the Church, nothing but schism and heresy. These are followed by persecutions and quarrels, exceedingly well adapted to destroy this vaunted spirit of concord, said by its defenders to be peculiar to Christianity; and the existence of which is, in fact, impossible in a religion which is one entire chaos of obscure doctrines and impracticable precepts. In every religious dispute, both parties thought that God was on their side, and, consequently, they were obstinate and irreconcilable. And how should it have been otherwise, since they confounded the cause of God with the miserable interests of their own vanity? Thus, being little disposed to give way on one part or the other, they cut one anothers throats; they tormented, they burnt each other: they tore one another to pieces; and having exterminated or put down the obnoxious sects, they sung Te Deum.
It is not my intention to pursue, in this place, the horrid detail of ecclesiastical history, as connected with that of the Roman empire. Mr. Gibbon has exhibited in such colours this dreadful record of follies, and of crimes, that it is difficult to see how the maxim of judging the tree by its fruit, will not fatally affect the cause of the Christian religion. I refer to Mr. Gibbons history as a cool and impartial narrative; for I am well satisfied that, so far from having reason to complain of him, the advocates of Christianity have very great reason, indeed, to thank him for his forbearance, since, with his eloquence, he might have drawn a picture that would have made humanity shudder. For, throughout the whole history, if a man had wished to know what was then the orthodox faith, the best method of ascertaining it, would have been, undoubtedly, to ask, What is the catechism of this public executioner.
The Christian religion was, it is evident from his history, the principal, though by no means the only cause of the decline and fall of the Roman empire. Because it degraded the spirit of the people, and because it produced monks and hermits in abundance, but yielded no soldiers. The heathen adversaries of Christianity were in the right when they said, that if it prevailed, Rome was no more! The Christians would not serve in the armies of the emperor, if they could possibly avoid it. They justly considered the profession of a soldier, and that of a Christian, as incompatible. Celsus accuses them of abandoning the empire, under whose laws they lived, to its enemies. And what is the answer of Origen to this accusation? Look: at his pitiful reply! He endeavours to palliate this undutiful refusal by representing that—the Christians had their peculiar camps, in which they incessantly combatted for the safety of the emperor and empire, by lifting up their right hands— IN PRAYER!! (See Origen contra Celsum, Lib. 8, p. 437.) This is a sneaking piece of business truly! But Origen could have given another answer, if he had dared to avow it, which is, that his co-religionists, in his time, had not ceased to expect their master momentarily to appear; and, of course, it little mattered what became of the emperor, or the empire. This notion was the principal engine for making proselytes; and it was by this expectation that many were frightened into baptism.
That Christianity was considered incompatible with the military profession, is evident from many passages of the fathers. And one of them, I believe, Tertullian, ventures to insinuate to the Christians in the legions, the expediency of deserting, to rid themselves of their carnal employment. Nay, to such a height did this spirit prevail, that it never stopped till it taught the Roman youth in Italy the expedient of cutting off the thumbs of their right hands in order to avoid the conscription, and that they might be allowed to count their beads at home in quiet.
If we examine, in detail, the precepts of this religion, as they affect nations, we shall see, that it interdicts every thing which can make a nation flourishing. We have seen already the notion of imperfection which Christianity attaches to marriage, and the esteem and preference it holds out to celibacy. These ideas certainly do not favour population, which is, without contradiction, the first source of power to every state.
Commerce is not less obnoxious to the principles of a religion whose founder is represented as denouncing an anathema against the rich, and as excluding them from the kingdom of heaven. All industry is equally interdicted to perfect Christians, who are to spend their lives as strangers, and pilgrims upon earth, and who are not to take care of the morrow.
Chrysostom says, that a merchant cannot please God, and that such a one ought to be chased out of the church.
No Christian, also, without being inconsistent, can serve in the army. For a man, who is never sure of being in a state of grace, is the most extravagant of men, if, by the hazard of battle, he exposes himself to eternal perdition. And a Christian who ought to love his enemies, is he not guilty of the greatest of crimes, when he inflicts death upon a hostile soldier, of whose disposition he knows nothing: and whom he may, at a single stroke, precipitate into hell? A Christian soldier is a monster! a non-descript! and Lactantius affirms, that a Christian cannot be either a soldier, or an accuser to a criminal cause. And, at this day, the Quakers, and Mennonites refuse to carry arms, and, in so doing, they are consistent Christians.
Christianity declares war against the sciences; they are regarded as an obstacle to salvation. Science puffeth up. says Paul. And the fathers of the church, St. Gregory, St. Ambrose, and St. Augustine denounce vehemently astronomy, and geometry. And Jerome declares, that he was whipped by an angel only for reading that Pagan Cicero.
It has been often remarked, that the most enlightened men are commonly bad Christians. For independent of its effects on faith, which science is exceedingly apt to subvert, it diverts the Christian from the work of his salvation, which is the only thing needful. In a word, the peculiar principles of Christianity literally obeyed, would entirely subvert from its foundations every political society now existing. If this assertion is doubted, let the doubter read the works of the early Fathers, and he will see that their morality is totally incompatible with the preservation and prosperity of a state. He will see according to Lactantius, and others, that no Christian can lawfully be a soldier. That according to Justin, no Christian can be a magistrate. That according to Chrysostom, no Christian ought to be a merchant And that according to several, no Christian ought t study. In fine, joining these maxims together with those of the New Testament, it will follow, that a Christian, who as he is commanded, aims at perfection, is a useless member of the community, useless to his family, and to all around him. He is an idle dreamer, who thinks of nothing but futurity; who has nothing in common with the interests of the world, and according to Tertullian has no other business but to get out of it as quietly as possible.
Let us hearken to Esebius of Caesarea, and we shall abundantly discover the truth of what has been said.
The manner of life, (says he,) of the Christian church, surpasses our present nature, and the common life of men. It seeks neither marriage, nor children, nor riches. In fine, it is entirely a stranger to human modes of living. It is entirely absorbed in an insatiable love of heavenly things. Those who follow this course of life, have only their bodies upon earth, their whole souls are in heaven, and they already dwell among pure and celestial intelligences, and they despise the manner of life of other men Demonstrat. Evang. vol. ii. p.29.
Indeed a man firmly persuaded of the truth of; Christianity cannot attach himself to any thing here below. Every thing here is an occasion of stumbling, a rock of offence. Every thing here, diverts him from thinking of his salvation. If Christians in general, happily, for society, were not inconsistent, and did not neglect the peculiar precepts of their religion, no large society of them could exist; and the nations enlightened by the gospel would turn hermits, and nuns. All business, but fasting and prayer, would be at an end. There would be nothing but groaning in this vale of tears; and they would make themselves, and others, as miserable as possible, from the best of motives, viz; the desire to fulfill what they mistakenly conceived to be the will of God.
Is this a picture taken from the life, or is it a fanciful representation of something different from the peculiar morality of the New Testament? This serious question demands a serious answer. If it be such as it is represented above and such it really appears to me, and such I have unfortunately experienced its operation to be on my own mind—I would respectfully ask—can such a religion, whose peculiar principles tend to render men hateful, and hating one another: which has often rendered sovereigns, persecutors, and subjects, either rebels, or slaves: a religion, whose peculiar moral principles and maxims, teach the mind to grovel, and humble, and break down the energies of man; and which divert him from thinking of his true interests, and the true happiness of himself and his fellow men. Can such a religion, I would respectfully ask, be from God, since where fully obeyed, it would prove utterly destructive to society?