We began this book by referring to the circumstance, that the same illustrious individual who originated the idea of “the Great Exhibition,” and who has done so much to extend and realize it, suggested as an inscription for the Royal Exchange, a single sentence from our English Bible—“The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof.” It is the first verse of the 24th Psalm. The suggestion was adopted;—and hence, on the front of the building referred to,—in very plain letters,—rather rude if any thing,—without adornment,—or figure or flourish of any sort—but conspicuous and legible, in our own homely, honest, Saxon tongue, stands, open to all the world, the public proclamation of our faith as a people—“The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof.” It stands there, on the front of the edifice, which is the commercial centre of this great city,—the place of meeting for the men of different lands and of many languages, who, as the representatives of every clime and country upon earth, constitute, daily, a sort of typical gathering of all nations,—men connected with the “industry,” by being connected with the trade and traffic, of the world.
We proposed to put the two things together,—the inscription on the Exchange, with the anticipated gathering in the Palace of Industry,—and to consider the first as announcing to the second certain great truths, and these again as involving universal duties; and we further proposed to consider, in conclusion, what would be the result, to Europe and the world, if, by ourselves and our many visitors, with the aggregate of nationalities whom they will represent, these truths were all to be acknowledged, and the duties resulting from them were all to be done.
We then proceeded—taking in connexion with the first verse of the psalm, which constitutes the inscription on the Exchange, the entire sacred composition of which it is a part,—and viewing that, too, in connexion with the whole volume of Divine Revelation to which it belongs—we proceeded, on this principle, to develope and illustrate the truths and the duties to which we referred. Thus expounded, we found the confession, that “the earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof,” to include the following things. It involved, in the first place, the existence of God;—the acknowledgment of this,—and the acknowledgment of it in connexion with the idea of personality. In the second place, it involved God’s proprietorship of the world and man, and the recognition of this as carrying with it the acknowledgment of his being the Creator, since, immediately after the statement that “the earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof,” the Psalm goes on to say, “the world, and they that dwell therein;—for he hath founded it upon the seas and established it upon the floods.” In the third place, we educed from the confession that the “fulness” of the earth is God’s, the doctrine of Providence, including in that, the original disposition of materials for the service of man in the construction of the globe,—the whole arrangement of things, animate and inanimate, on its surface,—the establishment of all the laws of production,—the continual administration of these laws, by God’s personal supremacy and presidency over nature,—the gifts which he confers, on nations and individuals, of contrivance and skill, taste and genius,—with whatever else belongs to the constant communication of good, and the progressive advance and improvement of society. All these ideas were largely illustrated by various striking passages of Scripture; and the acknowledgment of the truths of Creation and Providence, were both shown to involve in them further evidence of the previous truth of the Divine personality.
We next advanced to some additional ideas of both truth and duty, which the acknowledgment of all this involved,—especially as this acknowledgment was illustrated by the whole psalm that was supposed to be before us, and as that was illustrated by the whole scheme of Divine discovery developed in the Bible, and the connexion between the Jewish and Christian revelations. We found the following things to be thus brought out. In the first place, the duty of worship:—this was suggested by the question, which immediately follows the acknowledgment of God, of creation, providence, and the Divine proprietorship of the earth and the world,—“Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, who shall stand in his holy place?” Next, there was the answer to this question, which involved the obligation of universal virtue in God’s worshippers—that is, upon all men, since all men are alike bound to worship him: “He that hath clean hands and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.” This was expounded as a demand for inward and outward purity—purity of soul, lip, and life—in all who habitually approached God in the solemnities of worship. But this demand for universal virtue in each worshipper,—associated with the obligation of all men to worship,—viewed in connexion with the general consciousness of defect and sin, and the proof and prevalence of ungodliness in the world,—led, in the third place, to the discussion of the great question—how humanity was to come to the attainment of that character, which was essential to the fulfilment of its religious obligations? To be in a proper moral and spiritual state for the discharge of habitual, acceptable worship, considered as a duty, we found, by a process of scriptural reasoning, to involve another and a previous duty; that, namely, of accepting the gospel as a system of mercy, and of submitting to Christ as the Redeemer of the world. We argued this, from looking at the lessons taught by the principle that pervaded the appointments of the Jewish ritual, and the prophetic bearing on the promised Messiah, of some of the hymns used by the people in the Hebrew worship. We showed how the whole of the ancient Institute taught the necessity of atonement and sacrifice,—pardon through a propitiation, and purity and holiness as divine effects; we saw how it intimated that it did not itself provide these, but, by typical rites, significant ceremonies, and prophetic songs, anticipated their coming in “the fulness of time,” when they should be procured and dispensed by one who was regarded as the hope and “the desire of all nations.” Without positively saying that the latter part of the twenty-fourth psalm was a distinct and intended prophecy of Christ, we showed, from the language of those psalms that are so, as quoted and expounded in the New Testament, that it might consistently be regarded as illustrative of Christ—of his return in triumph to the heavenly world, when, after having “overcome the sharpness of death,” “he ascended up on high, to receive gifts for men, even for the rebellious, that the Lord God might dwell among them,” and that they might become the holy and spiritual “priesthood” of God. In this way, we endeavoured to show how an intelligent Christian might associate with the first verse of the twenty-fourth psalm, all the scriptural revelations respecting Him, who, in the Te Deum,—one of the noblest of ancient Christian hymns,—is invoked in language borrowed from the close of it: “Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ!” and that thus, the simple words on our Exchange, which at first sight appear to announce only the general principles of Theism, would come to utter in the ear of instructed reason and enlarged faith, the specific truths of an Evangelical Christianity. It thus comes to pass, that we are taught ourselves, by the inscription referred to, and shall teach the nations to whom we exhibit it, that, for men “to ascend into the hill of the Lord, and habitually to worship in his holy place;” appearing there in “the beauty of holiness,” and everywhere exemplifying universal virtue; they must first come to him as sinners, through Christ, and that, then, being cleansed from their sins, by being “washed, justified, and sanctified, in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the spirit of our God,” they can constitute a holy, worshipping Church; and with “clean hands,” and “pure hearts,” offer up “spiritual sacrifices,” fragrant and acceptable to Him whom they approach,—such approach, again, ever re-acting on their further attainment of personal righteousness.
It now only remains for us to conclude and complete our originally projected course of observation, by setting forth what would be the future condition of the nations, supposing that all the world learned and practised the truths and duties which have thus been enumerated.
It is not unnatural to look at the subject in this way. Philosophers, and politicians, and social economists, are all regarding the great event which is just at hand,[1] as constituting the beginning of a new era and of better times; and as embodying in itself something like a prophecy of a brightened and improved future for the nations. For the first time in the history of the world, there is to be a flowing of the peoples of all lands to one spot. They are not summoned together by blast of trumpet; they come not inflamed by mutual animosities, nor with souls bent on conquest and carnage. Nor do they come for the purpose of witnessing games and tourneys,—feats of strength or speed,—the rude contests of muscular athletæ,—the skill of charioteers,—the sanguinary spectacle of gladiatorial shows,—or the combat of plumed knights, with their glittering armour and gallant bearing, their caparisoned steeds and gay attendants, making war look like a holiday entertainment. The gathering of the nations about to be held is to be altogether of another sort. The crowds that move to it, are not to move as a thunderbolt or a whirlwind, carrying in their course havock and desolation; they are to bring with them, in their tranquil march, the useful products of their respective countries, and the bloodless trophies of their industry and their skill. These are to be all collected and arranged in one great and extraordinary edifice, where they are to enter into a sort of peaceful contest and amicable rivalry, while the people themselves of every region are to mingle together, and to look on, and to observe, and compare, and wonder, and rejoice:—and it is expected to come to pass, that however unable the most of them may be to understand the spoken languages of the rest, all will be able to read and to interpret what will be written everywhere on the whole scene, and to comprehend the import of the common voice that shall seem to be issuing from the objects around them. The products of the different regions of the earth will recognise each other as belonging to one and the same world; the multitudes of things that will illustrate the achievements of skill and industry, though constructed or fabricated by the hands of men of many languages, will have among themselves a common dialect—a language of their own—but which all the different national workers shall alike understand. Everything will speak of oneness, brotherhood,—the same nature, the same faculties, the same Father,—the folly and wickedness of men not “living together in unity,”—of their degrading powers that are so wonderful, and so prolific of wonders, and desolating a world which they have such vast ability to beautify and adorn! From such a lesson it is hoped and expected that the crowds will disperse wiser and better,—more loving and more fraternal; and that a basis will be laid for such future peaceful and profitable intercourse, as shall render war an utter impossibility. It may be supposed, also, that the approaching event will only prove the first of a long series of similar exhibitions, which shall successively occur in all coming time, and which shall take place in different cities of Europe and America, till at length they may be fixed in some distant region of those lands that witnessed the birth or were honoured by being the cradle of the race, or in those which are at present the nurseries of nations as yet without a name. The whole thing, to some minds, is thus shaping itself into a prophetic type of a new aspect of the civilized world. But it is easy to see, that this prophecy is one which includes many others; for it could not be fulfilled, to the extent of its grand and comprehensive meaning, without a variety and number of important social and political changes being supposed as the necessary conditions of such a spectacle in other lands, as that which is possible and prepared for in our own.
We are merely adding then, to the calculations of philosophy, the higher thoughts suggested by the principles of our national faith, when we take the truths included in that faith, and, supposing them to be received by the nations of the earth, as we have drawn them out from the words that are enthroned in the midst of our city and in the sight of all men, proceed to inquire what would be the result of their being universally learned and embraced, and the duties they impose being universally obeyed. The inscription on the Exchange, if appropriate for it, is appropriate for the Palace of Industry too.[2] It is a glorious thing to think that we are living at such a time as this, and are about to witness such a festival as that projected by the Consort of our Sovereign;—not the banquet of a vain and idolatrous voluptuary, making “a feast for a thousand of his lords,” ready to desecrate what is sacred to religion, and to pour out libations of wine and strong drink, that “he and his princes, his wives, and his concubines, may lift up themselves against the God of heaven,” blaspheming his name and abusing his gifts, and “praising the gods of gold and of silver, of brass and of iron, of wood and of stone;”—it is not this, or we might expect the appearance of a mysterious hand, once more, with its “MENE, MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN,” to pronounce the doom of a voluptuous court and a devoted country;—it is not this, but a vast banquet for the eye and the intellect, the heart and the reason;—and one, too, projected on such a principle of recognising in all things the dominion of Him “who liveth for ever and ever,”—and “who ruleth alike over the hosts of heaven and the inhabitants of the earth,”—“in whose hand our breath is, and whose are all our ways,”—and “from whom cometh the gold and the silver, the brass, the iron, the wood and the stone;” the fruits of the earth and the abundance of the seas;—with every power and faculty of man—ability to accomplish and capacity to enjoy;—the whole thing so proceeds, we trust, on the acknowledgment of Him,—that, instead of a vision to strike terror and to scatter in confusion, we should rather imagine that we see written,—in radiant letters, by the hand of love and not of vengeance, to kindle devotion and strengthen faith,—on the crystal walls of the Palace of Industry, giving a glory to all its contents—“THE EARTH IS THE LORD’S, AND THE FULNESS THEREOF;—THE WORLD, AND THEY THAT DWELL THEREIN.”
Supposing this, then, to become the creed of the world, enlarged and illustrated by Christian associations, and for all its personal and practical lessons to be fully carried out, let us see what would be the condition of human society.
[1] These pages were written previous to the opening of the “Exhibition,” and refer to it as approaching. They do not appear quite so soon as it was once hoped they would have done, but it has been thought best to retain their original form of expression.
[2] Since this was written, the Author has been gratified by learning that Prince Albert has selected the words, with the addition of the second clause of the verse, for the English motto on the cover of the Catalogue of the Exhibition. It is taken, however, from the Prayer-book translation of the Psalms, instead of from that of the authorized version. The sense is the same, although the phraseology is slightly varied. The words are, “The earth is the Lord’s, and all that therein is: the compass of the world, and they that dwell therein.”