What has been said with regard to a revelation, made by words, applies, in its main points, to a revelation made directly to the mind through ideas, without the intervention of words. To see this clearly, let us bear in mind the distinction between a perception and an idea. An idea is the result of a perception. We perceive a rose when it is presented to our senses, and we see, smell, or touch it. We have an idea of it, when, not being any longer presented, we think of it, and call to mind its qualities. We are said to have a perception of anger, or love, or any other emotion, when those feelings are present to the mind. We have ideas of them, when we think about them. It is not our object to enter upon any abstruse discussion as to the origin of ideas. What has
been just advanced will be generally admitted by metaphysicians, and readily understood by others. Hoping, then, that the distinction between an idea and a perception will be carried in the mind, we will proceed with our argument. There is no difficulty in supposing—and this, we believe, corresponds very closely to an opinion commonly entertained respecting inspiration—that God could, without the intervention of words, call up in the mind such ideas as He might think fit. For instance, instead of speaking the words, “Thou shalt do no murder,” He might, in a preternatural manner, excite in the mind the ideas corresponding to them. Still, however, unless we suppose the conditions of human thought to be altered in a manner for which we have no analogy, the ideas of a man, killing, etc., must previously exist in the mind, or the revelation would be unintelligible. Whether, then, the ideas are called up, through the instrumentality of words, or in some other way, is immaterial to our present argument. The point we insist on is that, except in the case of actual perception, the communication of knowledge, by revelation, or otherwise, must be limited by the ideas previously existing in the mind of the person to whom the communication is made. These ideas may be combined into new forms, and new relations may be discovered between them, or they may be analyzed into their constituent parts, but we cannot transcend the ideas themselves, except by new perceptions.
Let it not, however, be imagined that a revelation, conveyed through the instrumentality of ideas previously existing, must be so narrow as to convey little or no new information, or instruction. We have only to look at the works of Milton, Newton, Shakespeare, and other great men, to see the almost endless variety with which
ideas, and the relations in which they stand to each other, may be so combined and disposed, as to minister to the imagination, or enrich the mind with fresh stores of knowledge. All the information which we derive from books, or conversation, is obtained in this way, and to it we must probably attribute by far the largest portion of our mental acquisitions, after the period of childhood. So far, indeed, as the promulgation of a revelation by its original recipients is concerned, it appears plain that it must be made, almost necessarily, through the instrumentality of words, inasmuch as they are the best signs which can be made use of in the communication of knowledge.
Before, however, proceeding to this portion of the subject, it appears desirable to make a few additional observations with regard to a revelation by perception. We have already had occasion to notice that “the Deity does not, like other objects, come within the direct cognizance of our perceptive faculties” (p. 5), and that, “even if a direct presentation of the Infinite were given . . . the result would be a finite conception” (p. 12). It may, however, be imagined that a direct presentation, even though issuing in a finite conception, or a representation either addressed ab extra to our perceptive faculties, or brought before us in a vision, or a dream, or otherwise, would convey to the mind a more correct apprehension of God’s nature than could be obtained in any other way. These cases, though differing in some particulars, may, for our present purpose, be regarded as identical, and treated as perceptions. Now there can be no doubt that a perception conveys a more vivid impression to the mind than a description; and we may, therefore, reasonably suppose that, in a revelation, God might use this
method of communicating knowledge in those cases to which it might be specially adapted. Thus, for instance, if God designed to give an idea of some place or being which we had never seen, He might effect this, in a very perfect manner, by bringing such a place or being, either in reality, or by representation, within the range of our perceptive faculties. The appearance vouchsafed by God to Moses (Exod. xxxiii. 19–23), the vision of Ezekiel (Ezek. xxxvii. 1–10), and the description given by St. Paul (2 Cor. xii. 1–4), will serve as illustrations of our meaning.
It must not, however, be taken for granted that such a mode of revelation would, in every case, be possible; or that, if possible, it would always be the best method of communication. So far as we can see, no mere presentation, or representation of the Deity, could, in itself, give any deep insight into His moral character, or the relation in which He stands to us. Even if the Deity were constantly present, we know not how we could obtain any accurate knowledge of His attributes, except by observation of His words and acts. If we had been introduced to the philanthropist, Howard, we could not have become acquainted with his excellence by merely gazing at his countenance. We must have listened to his words, and followed him to those scenes of misery which he was in the habit of visiting, if we would obtain a clear understanding of his benevolence. So too, the holiness, love, and other moral perfections of the Deity, are not matters which can be apprehended from any mere intuition of the Divine nature. A glorious exhibition of the Divine presence, such, for instance, as that described in Exodus, as having occurred on Mount Sinai, might inspire feelings of awe, and enable those
who witnessed it to apprehend more clearly, perhaps, than could have been effected in any other way, the dignity and majesty of God; but, for a revelation of His moral nature, and the relation in which He stands to man, we must look more to words—such words, for instance, as He is said to have spoken to the children of Israel at that time, and afterwards, during forty days, to Moses. While, then, we think that a revelation by perception, with regard to some things, might be expected, we do not consider that it would convey a large amount of information, unless it were combined with a revelation through words. Words are, in fact, the most natural and effectual mode of imparting most kinds of knowledge, and we may, therefore, reasonably expect that, in any revelation which the Divine Being might think fit to make to man, they would form a chief method of communication. When we thus speak of words in connection with a revelation, we do not mean only words addressed actually to the ear, but also such, as in a dream or vision, may appear to be spoken. We desire also that it should be remembered that, for the main purpose of our argument, it is not so much words as ideas which we wish to keep in view. What we chiefly wish to leave on the mind is, that a revelation, except so far as a new perception may be given, must be limited by the ideas previously existing in the mind of the person to whom it is made. It may be reasonably expected that God would make use of those ideas which were best adapted to His purpose, but not that He should transcend the ideas themselves. If, too, we suppose that a new perception is given, that perception could not be explained to others, except through the instrumentality of such ideas as those to which we have referred.
Our object hitherto has been to explain the conditions under which a direct revelation from God may be expected to be given. If we have been able to remove from the minds of our readers vague and indefinite notions on the subject, and to put, in their place, something clearer and more distinct, our object thus far will have been answered.
It is, perhaps, hardly necessary to state that, by what has been said above, we do not intend to intimate that the recipient of a direct revelation must, necessarily, always understand the exact meaning of such a revelation. It may contain a hidden meaning, to be evident at some future time. Thus, for instance, on the supposition that the first chapter of Ezekiel is a revelation from God, it is probable that the meaning of it was as unintelligible to Ezekiel, as it is generally considered to be at the present time. But the meaning of the words themselves, and their connection with each other are clear. It is in the application that the difficulty arises. So, too, as advances are made in knowledge, words, and the ideas belonging to them, acquire a more extended and fuller meaning. The ideas involved in the word, sun, are very different to the philosopher and the peasant; and some ideas contained in a revelation may be of such a kind as not to be fully understood till more knowledge has been acquired, than existed at the time when the revelation was made. But to suppose that the words convey no meaning to the original recipient of the revelation, is to say that no revelation is made to him at all, and it certainly hardly appears probable that the Divine Being should make a communication which could answer no end to the person to whom it was addressed.