3d. You contend that the Christian hope of a future happy existence, is not necessary to our present happiness; and that there is nothing more disagreeable in the thought of an eternal cessation of existence, than there is in the thought of reposing ourselves in quiet sleep. Notwithstanding what you say about non existence, all your play on words makes no difference about the thing talked of. Nor do I see that reason in your observations on this subject, for which you contend. You very well know that to cease to possess an identity of being and of intellect is what we mean by non-existence, and this is just the thing for which you argue. Now when we contemplate taking refreshment in sleep, it is in hope of awaking again in a better condition for enjoying ourselves and others, and for the performance of our duty. But the contemplation of passing out of existence, never to have another thought is certainly very widely different as to the nature of the subject, from the former. Now, sir, why should not these different subjects produce different sensations in the mind? And wherein one is entirely repugnant to the other, why is it not reasonable that the contemplation of them should be attended with effects in the mind as repugnant to each other as are the subjects? If it be a pleasure to a parent to contemplate, when he retires to rest with his family, the expectation of seeing them again in the morning, all refreshed and invigorated anew is it not reasonable to suppose that a contemplation exactly reverse from this would produce mental pain? I can conceive, without any violation of my reason or senses, how a fond mother can take satisfaction in nursing her babe to sleep, knowing that the tender being needs this repose; but I cannot conceive how the same affectionate mother could be equally pleased with the thought that her child would never wake again in time or in eternity. I feel grateful to the giver of every good and perfect gift, that he has given that blessed hope which is as an anchor to the soul, whereby the Christian in his dying hour is enabled to take a short farewell of his friends, expressing his hope of meeting them soon in a better world. And I think it unreasonable, even in the extreme, to suppose that a rational person could, in a similar situation, feel as well satisfied with an expectation of an extinction of being.
You fault the address to truth, which you say I put into the mouth of your argument, but this you do without the least occasion, nor is it in your power, sir, to show that your argument does not afford all I have made it say. You might, or rather you have varied the language a little, but the sentiment is preserved entire. The address to truth would, as before, extoll her existence, express the most ardent and constant love for her divinity and finish the climax by soaring down to non-existence, which you can contemplate with as much satisfaction as you could an eternal existence in the enjoyment of the object of your love!
But you contend that truth is lovely, and if your doubts are consistent with truth you shall be happy to be confirmed in them; &c. This hypothesis, sir, is too large to suit your own views; for you have before decided a choice between the doctrine of eternal misery and that of, I will call it, annihilation for this is its true meaning. You have revolted at the thought of eternal misery, but your hypothesis allows you no such liberty. Truth is lovely, and if the doctrine of eternal punishment, with all the fire and brimstone that has ever been preached by the most zealous advocates of torment be truth, your hypothesis compels you to embrace the goddess, and contemplate eternal misery with the same pleasure that you do non-existence, or with the same you would everlasting felicity did you believe in it!
If we would reason well, we must reason from what we know. We know that man is capable of being miserable, he is capable of great sufferings; likewise he is capable of being happy, he is capable of great enjoyments. Now to pretend that he has no choice, that it is as well for him to be miserable as to be happy, as well for him not to exist as to exist, is the reverse of reason.
4th. As Jesus, in the instructions which he gave to his disciples, respecting their conduct towards their enemies, had no design reaching to the laws of a body politic, but only to the conduct by which the ministry of the gospel would best succeed in its early beginning, while it was necessary for it to be persecuted, by which we are now favoured with its evidences, we may now err in applying those instructions differently from their primary design. St. Paul, as much as any of the disciples of Jesus, submitted himself to the directions of non-resistance, yet he insists on submission to the higher powers, because they were the ministers of God, even revengers to execute wrath upon them that do evil.
5th. With a confidence rather unusual, you challenge me to account for Jesus' not being known by the two disciples while he walked with them on their way to Emmaus; you bring a comparison, and urge the subject in a way to signify that you have found something in the scripture account that "refutes itself." You might have considered Mary's case too as a similar one. She saw Jesus with whom she had had a familiar acquaintance, but she thought it had been the gardner, and talked with him without knowing him, until, in the same manner as he used to address her, he said Mary, when in a moment she knew him. So the two brethren walked on the way with Jesus, and attended to his conversation, which must have been of considerable length, yet knew him not until he performed an office at table in which no doubt, he appeared as he had done many times before, which led them to know him at once. But I am called on to tell how they could walk and discourse with him and not know him. Well, sir, do you not understand that your question is asked on supposition that the miracle of the resurrection was a fact, and on the supposition that Jesus could appear and disappear to persons as he pleased? We are informed that when the two brethren knew him, "he vanished out of their sight." On the supposition then, that Jesus could appear and disappear at pleasure, is it at all difficult to allow that he could appear to his acquaintance as a stranger, if he pleased?
It seems to me, sir, a little unaccountable why you should take hold of this subject with so much seeming earnestness. Is it possible that you should suppose that the fate of this particular should have any power on our general subject? Without the least concern for the argument in which I am engaged, I might allow that St. Luke was wrongly informed respecting this particular, but that he wrote it just as he understood the matter. And what would follow? Would this prove any thing false on which christianity rests? I am unable to see how it affects the argument one way or the other. I am not the less inclined to believe the account, because it does not affect the truth of the resurrection; and I should think that as this story does not seem at all necessary in proof of that fact, it would be considered an evidence that the writer of it was not endeavouring to make a story for such a purpose. If we read the several accounts of the resurrection, we shall perceive that the writers probably put down as many particulars as come into their minds at the time of writing, without thoughts coming into their minds how the truth of the resurrection would be proved by the incidents which they wrote. There is no design of this sort in what they have written that we can see. They write as if they knew for certainty that Jesus rose from the dead, and as if the matter was out of all dispute. They discover no concern for fear the account they were giving would not be believed. There is not one instance of an attempt to guard the story by clearing up any difficulty. Would impostors write in this way? It is not believed that there was ever the instance. Imposture is like a thief who starts at his own shadow, and discovers guilt by endeavouring to hide it. But truth having no concern of this sort, discovers none.—And this is in all respects the apparent character of the four gospels.
6th. Your criticism on my argument respecting the evidences of the resurrection I shall now endeavour to show to be incorrect.
You criticise as follows; "The apostles could not have been convinced of the fact of the resurrection by any evidence short of the fact itself. 2d. If the fact did exist there is no evidence which can counterbalance it. Ergo, as the apostles were convinced of the truth, the fact did exist. This is pretty much like saying, if the fact were true it could not have been false!"
The first member of your criticism supposes that I contend that the apostles had no evidence of the resurrection but the fact itself. The second member of your criticism supposes that I contend the fact of the resurrection could not exist without proving itself to the apostles in such a way that no evidence could counterbalance it. Now in both of these you are under a mistake, I never urged the fact of the resurrection as evidence of itself to the apostles. I never pretended that they saw him rise. We have no account that any body saw this act performed. If the apostles had stood by the sepulchre and had seen the body of Jesus rise up and walk out of the house of death, then their evidences of his resurrection would have been the fact itself; but this was not the case, nor did I use any intimations of this nature. So the first member of your criticism is an error of yours. 2dly. If Jesus had rose from the dead and ascended into heaven, and never had given any proofs of this to any one, would the fact of his having risen be any evidence of itself to any person? It surely would not. Nor have I suggested any thing which intimates that the resurrection could not have been true without proving itself to be so to the apostles. What seems a little remarkable respecting this subject, is, you profess to care for nothing but simple truth, and yet you seem to study how to avoid it, as the above criticism seems to evince. I say seems to evince, for I am not prepared to accuse you of such a fault—I would charitably believe that you thought your criticism would hit something or another nearly about right, without understanding what the amount of it is.