I rejoined thus: “Hell obscurely revealed by the prophets!” And yet, Mr. Taylor tells us, that from Adam to Christ, multitudes were daily dropping into the infernal regions. Hell should have been revealed more distinctly than death or the grave, for it might have been shunned if timely warning had been given. Only think of a God of love imparting existence to human beings, knowing, that by day and by night, from the cradle to the grave, they were in imminent danger of falling into a fathomless gulf, there ever to writhe in immortal agonies, and having his omniscient eye on them during the whole of their earthly pilgrimage—yet only OBSCURELY HINT to them of their danger. What kind of a God, sir, do you worship? But then heaven, he says, was only obscurely revealed under the law. I am amazed that a good, intelligent and learned man should deceive himself by such sophistry. It may be consistent for a parent in his last will and testament to withhold knowledge of a great good for a given period from his children, but he must be a monster to withhold for a moment knowledge of an impending evil, especially if he knows they may escape it by timely warning.
It was nearly midnight when the discussion closed, and I spent the rest of the night at his house, by his request. The next morning, he prayed that I might be converted to the knowledge of the truth, and then proposed a public discussion in Frankfort. The propositions were agreed on, but the time was not specified, and I never could, subsequently, induce him to name the date for the debate to commence. He put me off from time to time, and finally the matter was dropped.
About this time, I had a discussion in Independence, Ind., with Mr. Campbell, a Methodist minister, and that was my first regular oral debate. I had often had skirmishes, but this was my first regular pitched battle, and I went into it with much fear and trembling. I had confidence in the truth, but feared I should fail in defending it. And to this day, I never commence a discussion without similar fears; but when I get excited, and have the measure of my man, I feel tolerably bold. The subject of discussion was endless punishment. Mr. Campbell was a Scotchman, and pretty wiry. The discussion elicited much interest, and large assemblies listened to it. The following is the substance of one of my speeches:
The consequences of sin were revealed to our first parents in the following words: “And the Lord God took the man, and put him in the garden of Eden to dress it, and to keep it. And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat, but of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it; for in the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.” Gen. ii. 15-17. Here is the first commandment, and the first penalty, and we may expect that a wise, just and merciful God would inform our race in its very infancy, of the whole results of wickedness. If eternal woe is the penalty, it should have been then and there, at the very gate of Eden, proclaimed in distinct and unmistakable language. This the welfare of man, in time and in eternity, required. If man’s everlasting weal or woe depends on his choosing evil or good in this world, that tremendous fact should have been announced in Eden in such thundering tones, that its echo would reverberate down all the succeeding ages, through every valley, across every plain, over every mountain, so that all the living, yea, the dead, should hear it. If belief in endless woe is the conservative of virtue, and the denial of it infidelity, that dogma should have been proclaimed so loud and so distinct, it should have been so stamped on every heart, that a blazing hell and terrible devils, would have been the first thoughts of childhood, and not to be forgotten till the eyes were closed in death, and the heart ceased to beat.
But what saith the passage: “In the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.” Is that all the penalty? Every word of it. Not a syllable about endless death, endless misery, endless hell. Mr. Campbell, who authorized you to put endless before death? You add to the word of God, and you know what is said of those who do that wicked thing. The punishment was that they should die. The Bible speaks of national death, temporal death, death to sin, and death in sin. But here it cannot mean national death, or death to sin; neither can it mean temporal death, for Adam lived hundreds of years after he sinned. Reference, without doubt, is to death in sin, a moral death—death to purity, innocence, virtue, happiness, which is symbolized by his being driven out of the garden. We were all in that garden once. Jesus took little children in his arms and blessed them, saying: “Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” But Adam was cast out, and most of us share the same fate. Adam in Eden represents our childhood, and out of it our sinful state. This death in sin, which Adam suffered, and multitudes of others suffer, is often spoken of in the Bible. Said Jesus, “Let the dead bury the dead;” that is, let the dead in sin bury the temporally dead. “You hath he quickened who were dead in trespasses and sin.... Even when we were dead in sin hath he quickened us together with Christ.” Eph. ii. 1, 5. This moral death means a great deal. It includes sin itself, and all its moral consequences—degradation, debasement, condemnation, darkness, hell, and ultimates often in [temporal] ruin. This soul-debasement results in jails, penitentiaries and gallows; in slavery, war and tyranny; in premature graves, desolated cities, and ruined nations.
But where and when was the penalty to be inflicted? Mark the words: “In the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.” Sin and its penalty are bound—chained together. It does not read that they would not be punished till the judgment day, thousands of years hence, at the end of time. That is Mr. Campbell’s theory; but the truth is, that sin and punishment go hand in hand, at all times, and in all places, and if he can prove eternal sinning, I will prove eternal suffering. Notice also, that the punishment was sure. In the day thou sinneth thou shalt surely die. If you jump into the sea, and cannot swim, you must suffer the consequences; if you swallow a dose of poison, and it penetrates your vitals, you must abide the result; so he who transgresses the moral law of God, must suffer its blasting, damning effects. “Ye shall surely die.” Repentance may mitigate the result in part, but the curse cleaves to the sinner till there is an entire transformation of character. But the penalty is not endless, else who can be saved from sin? It was not termed endless when it was first revealed, neither is it called endless in any part of the Bible. The gentleman will have to hunt up evidence outside of the book to make out endless woe for the sins of this life.
Mr. Campbell replied: “That the death threatened Adam, was death temporal, death spiritual, and death eternal; and although it was not termed eternal in the passage, it was clearly implied there, and distinctly taught all through the Bible.”
I answered: Here are two assumptions. 1. That the death was threefold. There is no such intimation in the passage or elsewhere in the Bible. 2. That the death is eternal. It is not so termed from Genesis to Revelation.
But I have not room for more of that discussion. Mr. Campbell seemed satisfied with his defense of ceaseless woe, and we parted in friendship.
I got along better with this discussion than I expected, and was more willing afterwards to engage in such debates. Many well meaning persons oppose the public discussion of religious subjects; they think it does no good, but much harm; but they do not properly discriminate between the abuse and proper use of discussion. That it may be, and often is abused, there can be no doubt; but what good thing can be named, that is not liable to be abused? And it seems that the best of God’s blessings, when improperly directed by erring men, are the greatest curses. Fire, water, air, steam, electricity, when legitimately employed, are vast benefactors to man, but when illegitimately employed, they deal death and destruction all around. Man, when he answers the end of his being, is almost an angel, but when his noble faculties are prostituted to base purposes, he becomes a fiend. The gospel is the power of God unto salvation, to all who cherish it deep in their hearts, but in the hands of wicked men it may deluge the world with blood and tears. So religious discussion, where truth and error grapple, if conducted with proper motives, and in the right spirit, is a lever of reform; it opens the eyes of the blind, unstops the ears of the deaf, and often takes away the heart of stone and gives a heart of flesh; hence reformers in all ages have courted discussion. Socrates was a famous debater, Jesus traveled from town to town, and Paul from nation to nation, discussing with the people, and turning the world upside down. Luther, by his controversial tongue and pen, sent the Pope of Rome, and the Catholic Church, headlong to the gates of their long home. After that tongue was silent, and that pen dry, they rallied, and prolonged their existence. Let every subject of human thought be discussed freely, but kindly, honestly, wisely. It will do no harm, but much good. But I have observed that it is the advocates of established theories, exclusively, that oppose discussion. They do not want their slumbers disturbed by noisy debate; they might wake up and see and hear something new. Cry aloud, reformers, and spare not; do not be afraid of making a noise in the sleepy hollows of the earth. Say to all, Awake, think, investigate, judge. The divine injunction is, “Prove all things, and hold fast that which is good;” “Come, let us reason together.”