The language of prophecy is either common or mystical. Predictions delivered in the style of common discourse, and free from symbols as they are little liable to diversities of explication, do not often tempt the ingenuity of visionaries: they may, therefore, be excluded from consideration in the present instance. Mystic prophecy, or future history written in symbols, under guidance of the divine foreknowledge, in being committed to the custody and perusal of mankind, must be presumed to conform itself to the laws of that particular species of composition to which it bears the nearest analogy. For if the Divine Being condescends at all to hold intercourse with men, it cannot be doubted that he will do so, not only in a language known to them, but in a manner perfectly accordant to the rules and proprieties of the medium he designs to employ. Now the prophecies in question not merely belong to the general class of symbolic writing, but there is to be discerned in them, very plainly, the specific style of the enigma, which, in early ages, was a usual mode of embodying the most important and serious truths. In the enigma, the principal subject is, by some ingenuity of definition, and by some ambiguity of description, at once held forth and concealed. The law by which it is constructed demands, that while there is given, under a guise, some special mark which shall prevent the possibility of doubt when once the substance signified is seen, that substance shall be so artfully depicted that the description, though it be a true representation, may admit of more than one explication. There can be no genuine and fair enigma in which these conditions are not complied with. For if no special mark be given, the true solution must want the means of vindicating its exclusive propriety, when the substance signified is declared; a vague riddle is none. Or if the special mark be not disguised, if no varnishing opacity be spread over it, the substance is manifested at once, and the enigma nullified. Again, if the general description is not so contrived as to admit of several plausible hypotheses, then also the whole intention of the device is destroyed, and the special mark rendered useless; for what need can there be of an infallible indicator which is to come in as arbiter among a number of competing solutions, if, in fact, no room be left for diversity of interpretation?

Whenever, therefore, among mystic enunciations we can detect the existence of some couched and specific note of identification, we may most certainly conclude that it is placed there to serve a future purpose of discrimination among several admissible modes of solution; or in other words, that the enigma is designedly so framed as to tempt and to allow a diversity of hypothetical explanations. An enigmatical or symbolical enunciation, conformed to these essential rules, serves the threefold purpose of presenting a blind to the incurious, a trap to the dogmatical, and an exercise of modesty, of patience, and of sagacity to the wise. And this seems to be the result intended, and actually accomplished by the symbolical prophecies of Scripture.

When the subject of enigma already stands within the range of our knowledge, and requires only to be singled out, the process of solution is simple. The several suppositions that seem to comport with the ambiguous description are to be brought together; and then the special mark must be applied to each in turn, until such a precise and convincing correspondence is discovered as at once strips the false solutions of all their pretensions: if the enigma be fairly constructed, this method of induction will never fail of success. Thus, with the page of history before us, those prophecies of Daniel, for example, which relate to the invasion of Greece by the Persians, to the subsequent overthrow of the Persian monarchy by the Macedonians, to the division of the conquests of Alexander, to the spread of the Roman arms, and to the subdivision of the Roman Empire, are interpreted without hazard of error, and with a completeness and a speciality of coincidence, that carries a conviction of the divine dictation of those prophecies to every honest mind.

A course somewhat less gratifying to the eagerness of enthusiastic spirits must be pursued, if the subject of the sacred enigma does not actually stand within our view; if it rest in a foreign region, as, for example, in the region of futurity. It will by no means follow that a symbolic prediction, which remains unfulfilled, ought not to be made the subject of investigation; for as the description doubtless contains, by condensation, the substance of the unknown reality, and perhaps also much of its character, it may, even when mingled with erroneous interpretations, serve important purposes in the excitement of pious hope. The delivery of these enigmas into the hands of the Church, and their intricate intermixture with fulfilled prophecies, and their being everywhere embossed with attractive lessons of piety and virtue, not to mention the explicit invitation to read and study them, may confidently be deemed to convey a full license of examination. Yet in these instances the well-known laws of the peculiar style in which the predictions are enveloped, suggest restrictions and cautions which no humble and pious expositor can overlook. The fault of the dogmatist in prophecy is then manifest. Is a mystic prediction averred to be unfulfilled? then we know, that, by the essential law of its composition, it is designedly, we might say artfully constructed, so as to admit of several, and perhaps of many, plausible interpretations, having nearly equal claims of probability; and we know, moreover, that the special mark couched amid the symbols, and which in the issue is to arbitrate among the various solutions, is drawn from some minute peculiarity in the surface and complexion of the future substance, and therefore cannot be available for the purpose of discrimination, until that substance, in the shape and color of reality, starts forth into day.

The expositor, therefore, who presumptuously espouses any one of the several interpretations of which an enigmatical prophecy is susceptible, and who fondly claims for it a positive and exclusive preference, sins most flagrantly against the unalterable laws of the language of which he professes himself a master. If dogmatism on matters not fully revealed be in all cases blameworthy, it is especially to be condemned in the expositor of enigmatic prophecy; and that, not merely because the events so predicted rest under the awful veil of futurity, and exist only in the prescience of the Deity; but because the chosen style of the communication lays a distinct claim to modesty, and demands suspension of judgment.—The use of symbols speaks a design of concealment; and do we suppose that what God has hidden, the sagacity of man shall discover? In issuing the prediction, he does indeed invite the humble, inquiries of the Church; and in employing symbols which have a conventional meaning he gives a clew to learned research; and yet, by the combination of these symbols in the enigmatic form, an articulate warning is presented against all dogmatical confidence of interpretation.

The adoption of an exclusive theory of exposition will not fail to be followed by an attempt to attach the special marks of prophecy to every passing event; and it is this very attempt which sets enthusiasm in a flame; for it belongs, in common, to all religious irregularities that, though mild and harmless while roaming at large among remote or invisible objects they assume a noxious activity the moment that they fix their grasp upon things near and tangible. There is scarcely any degree of sobriety of temper which can secure the mind against fanatical restlessness when once the habit has been formed of collating, daily, the newspaper and the prophets; and the man who, with a feeble judgment and an excitable imagination, is constantly catching at political intelligence—Apocalypse in hand—walks on the verge of insanity, or worse, of infidelity. In this feverish state of the feelings, mundane interests, under the guise of faith and hope, occupy the soul to the exclusion of "things unseen and eternal;" meanwhile, the heart-affecting elements of piety and virtue become vapid to the taste, and gradually fall into forgetfulness.

The fault of the dogmatical expositor of prophecy is especially manifested when he assumes to determine the chronology of unfulfilled predictions. In the instance of prophetic dates, the different lines of conduct suggested by the different styles of the communication, are readily perceived, and cheerfully observed by judicious and modest interpreters. We may take, for illustration, the predicted duration of the captivity of Judah, which was made known by Jeremiah (xxix. 10) in the intelligible terms of common and popular computation: nor could the supposition of a symbolic sense of the words be admitted by any sober expositor. On the authority of this unequivocal prediction, Daniel, as the time spoken of drew near, made confession and supplication in the full assurance of warranted faith. In this confidence there was no presumption, for his persuasion rested, not on the assumed validity of this or of that ingenious interpretation of symbols; but upon an explicit declaration which needed only to be read—not expounded.

But when the beloved seer received from his celestial informant the date of seventy weeks, which should fix the period of the Messiah's advent and preparatory sufferings, the employment of symbolic terms of itself announced the double intention of, at once, revealing the time, and of concealing it. For, as the terms, though mythic, bore a known import, they could not be thought to be absolutely shut up from research; yet, as by the mode of their combination they became susceptible of a considerable diversity of interpretation, the wise and good might, after all their diligence, differ in opinion as to the precise moment of accomplishment. Thus was devout inquiry at once invited and restrained; invited, because the language of the prediction was not unknown; and restrained, because it still asked for interpretation, and admitted a diversity of opinion. Those pious persons, therefore, who, at the time of the Messiah's birth, were "looking for the consolation of Israel," could not, unless favored with personal revelations, affirm "this is the very year of the expected deliverance;" for the symbolic chronology might, with an appearance of reason, bear a somewhat different sense. Yet might such persons, though not perfectly agreed in opinion, lawfully and safely join in an exulting hope, that the time spoken of was not far distant, when the son of David should appear.

The same rule is applicable to the position of the church at the present moment. No one, it may be affirmed, can have given due attention to the questions which have been of late so much agitated, without feeling compelled to acknowledge, that a high degree of probability supports the belief of an approaching extraordinary development of the mystery of providence towards Christendom, and perhaps, towards the whole family of man. That this probability is strong, might be argued from the fact that it has wrought a general concurrence of belief among those whose modes of thinking on most subjects are extremely dissimilar. Christians, amid many contrarieties of opinion, are, with a tacit or an explicit expectation, looking for movement and progression, to be effected either by a quickened energy of existing means, or by the sudden operation of new causes. This probable opinion, if held in the spirit of Christian modesty, affords, under the sanction of the coolest reason, a new and strong excitement to religious hope. He who entertains it may exultingly, yet calmly exclaim, "The night is far spent, the day is at hand;" and this kindling expectation will rouse him to greater diligence in every good work, to greater watchfulness against every defilement of heart, and frivolity of spirit, and inconsistency of conduct: he will strive with holy wakefulness, to live as the disciple should who is "waiting for his Lord." Thus far he can justify the new vivacity of his hopes upon the ground of the permanent motives of religion; for he feels nothing more than a Christian may well always feel; and the opinion he entertains relative to the near accomplishment of ultimate prophecy, serves only as an incitement to a state of mind in which he would fain be found, if called suddenly from the present scene. While giving free admission to sentiments of this sort, he knows that though he should be mistaken in his theoretical premises, he shall certainly be right in his practical inference.

But if the discreet Christian is tempted or solicited to admit an incongruous jumble of political speculations and Christian hopes; if he is called upon to detach in any degree, his attention from immediate and unquestionable duties, and to fix his meditations on objects that have no connection with his personal responsibility; then he will check such an intrusion of turbulence and distraction, the tendency of which he feels to be pernicious, by recollecting that his opinion, how probable soever it may seem, is, at the best, nothing more than one hypothesis among the many, which offer themselves in explanation of an enigmatical prediction. To-day this hypothesis pleases him by its plausibility; to-morrow he may reject it on better information.