Imagine Christianity to be received and reduced to practice by all the people on earth, what would be the result? Disease would gradually diminish. Nine-tenths of it would quickly disappear; and life would be both happier and much longer.
Along with disease would go want, and the fear of want. All would be well fed, well clad, well housed, and well supplied with all the necessaries and comforts of life. The world is stored with abundance of natural wealth. The surface of the earth is vast enough, and its soil is rich enough, to supply homes and plenty to all its inhabitants, if they were fifty times as numerous as they are.
Three or four hours a day would be the utmost length of time that men would need to labor. The cessation of war would set the soldiers free for productive employment. The peaceful disposition of the people at home would allow the police forces to devote themselves to useful labor. The idle classes would set to work, and the wasteful classes would become economical. A limit would be fixed to the extravagances of fashion. Things comely and useful would satisfy the desires of both men and women. The powers of nature would be pressed more generally into our service, and compelled to do our drudgery both in the mine and on the farm. A sense of justice would dispose men to be content with their share of the blessings of Providence, and Christian generosity would prompt the rich to supply the wants of the helpless. The dangers of useful toil would be diminished. The catalogue of mournful accidents in flood and field, in mines and factories, would be abridged. Oppression would cease. The wisest and best would be our legislators and rulers. Patriots, philanthropists, and philosophers would take the place of selfish politicians. Political trickery would give place to honorable statesmanship. All cruel forms of servitude would cease. All wicked laws would be abolished. All needless burdens would be removed from the backs of the people. All would be well taught. All dreams of impossible equality, and all thoughts of violent and bloody revolutions, would pass away. Vice and crime would disappear, with all the tortures both of mind and body which they occasion. Commerce would flourish. All nations would freely and lovingly exchange their surplus products. All classes would deal with each other honorably. Each one would do to others as he would that others should do to him. No one would suffer from fraud, or from the fear of fraud. Trade would be a mutual exchange of benefits. Business would be a pleasant pastime, gainful to all, and ruinous to none.
Marriage would be universal, and would prove in every case a comfort and a blessing. The family circle would be the abode of love, and peace, and joy. Each home would be a little heaven. Children would be wisely trained and carefully nurtured in knowledge and piety. The virtues and the graces would adorn their lives from youth to age. All talent and skill, the powers of eloquence and of poetry, the influences of music and of song, and all the powers of art would serve the cause of truth and virtue, of religion and humanity.
Superstition would die. Unnatural conceptions of God, and cruel, wasteful, and useless forms of worship, would give place to faith in a God of light and love, of wisdom and of purity, and to a spiritual, rational, and rapturous kind of devotion. All ignorant dread of natural phenomena would give place to joyous and loving admiration, and to devoutest adoration, of the great eternal Ruler of the world. If calamities came they would be accepted as divine appointments, as needful means of everlasting good. Death would lose its terrors. Belief in a blessed immortality would enable us to pass from earth in peace and joy. Bereavements would be less distressing. The departure of our friends would be but a transition to a better state of being.
The world itself would change. Its beauties would become more beautiful; its glories would become more glorious, and all its joys and pleasures would be more transporting. The eye, the ear, the taste, the smell would all become the inlets of more and richer enjoyments. Science and literature in their divinest forms would become the common lot of our race. The glory of God's character and the brightness of the eternal future, would shed unwonted radiance over the present life, and make it rapturous, glorious, and divine. The religion of Christ, while raising men to heaven, would bring down heaven to earth.
On the other hand, the want of trust in God and of a hope of immortality tends to darken earth, and to embitter life. When men are severed from God and Christ, they suffer loss both in character and enjoyment. We can speak from experience. We never ruined our health by vicious indulgence. We never became the slave of intemperance or licentiousness. We never dishonored our family, or lost the love and confidence of our wife and children. But we lost our trust in God, and our hope of immortality. And the heavens above grew dark, and the earth became a desolation. Life lost its value, and sorrow its consolation; and many and many a time we wished that we had never been born. For hours have we trod the earth with heavy heart and downcast eyes, groaning beneath a weight of sadness indescribable. Loss of faith in Christ, even with men of a naturally cheerful and hopeful spirit, renders life a burden too heavy to be borne. Hence for years before we fully regained our own faith in Christianity, we encouraged others to cherish theirs. An infidel once said, that the Christian's hope, if false, was worth all this world's best truths; and we felt the truth of the remark, and shrank from attempts to take from men the inestimable treasure. And now we would rather die than shake or undermine the faith of any Christian soul on earth. To the work of cherishing a belief in Christ in our own heart, and nurturing it in the hearts of others, we consecrate our life, our all. We would rather live on a crust, in a mud hut, with faith in God and Christ, than feast on all the dainties of the earth, in the palace of a king, with the hopelessness and gloom of the Atheist.
We have no disposition to exaggerate; but we are constrained to say, that if all the wisdom and all the virtue on earth had dwelt in one man, and if that one man had presented a revelation of God with a view to supply the strongest, the mightiest, the most touching, the most tender, the most varied, and the most irresistible inducements to renounce all selfishness and sin, and to live a pure and godly, a holy and a useful, a divine and glorious life, that revelation could have assumed no better, no more perfect or effective form, than that which is presented in the revelation of God by Jesus Christ. We feel, while we contemplate it, that it can have no fitter or truer name than that bestowed on it by the Apostles, 'The power of God to salvation to every one that believeth.' And we are reminded of the words, 'We all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord.'
Of course the destruction of this belief can operate no otherwise than as an encouragement to evil, and a discouragement to good. The loss of Christian belief in God can be to the virtues and the graces of the heart and life, but as a blight to plants and flowers. The Christian belief makes it summer to the soul, giving birth, and power, and full development to all that is godlike and glorious in human character. The loss of that belief is winter to the soul; killing with its frosts each form of life and beauty, and making all a waste and desolation.
There have been three great disbelievers in God in our own country during the present century, all of whom have written books denouncing marriage, and counselling unbounded sensual license. If their counsels were generally taken, the result would be a state of society as horrible as that portrayed in the beginning of Paul's Epistle to the Romans, and a return to faith in God alone could save the race of man from utter extinction. But we will not dwell on this dreadful side of the subject. We know the effects of the light and warmth of the sun; and we may safely be left to infer the horror, the misery, the world-wide ruin, and the utter dreariness and desolation that would follow if the orb of day were extinguished, or for ever and utterly withdrawn. Religion is the sun of the spiritual world; it is its light and life, its joy and blessedness; and its extinction would be the death and destruction of our race.