But we must do justice to Mr. Barlow. Though he maintains that the burthen of proof rests with his adversaries, yet he does set himself to demonstrate that the doctrine of eternal punishment contradicts the attributes of God. Now, in this part of his task, we freely admit that much of his reasoning is cogent and indeed conclusive: but it falls very short of the conclusion which he labours to establish. Thus, for example, in the case of a little child that "cries about taking its medicine", Mr. Barlow cannot bear the idea that this trivial fault will be punished with eternal flames (pp. 19, 20). Or, "you fall asleep for a minute or two in church, at afternoon service on a hot day: of course you have not been attending to the service; but, honestly and truly, do you clearly see and feel that those two minutes' sleep deserves at the hand of Infinite Justice everlasting agony?" (p. 38, note). Again, "a quick little child of two years old, or even younger, knows very well that it is naughty to get into a passion and strike his mother or his nurse: his elders, however, do not think a great deal of this little ebullition of temper, and consider it amply expiated by sending him to bed. But the child may suddenly die in his sin. Will the 'All Merciful' consign him to everlasting tortures?" (p. 44). In another place (chap. v.) he adduces several texts to prove that "punishment after death, finite in duration, as the lot of some, is the unambiguous doctrine of Holy Scripture" (p. 116). There is nothing in all this to which we can object. But we maintain that such arguments are worthless in the cause of which Mr. Barlow is the advocate. He proves, indeed, that there are many sins which do not deserve eternal punishment. He proves too from the Inspired Writings, that, beyond the grave there is a state of expiation, in which many souls must needs be purged from such minor transgressions before they can appear in those mansions of heavenly purity where "nothing defiled shall enter".[14]
Our readers will here recognize without difficulty the Catholic doctrine of venial sin, and the Catholic doctrine of purgatory. Unconsciously Mr. Barlow has become for a time the champion of Catholic faith. But the question at issue has not to do with the innocent little babe that beats its nurse, nor the wayward child that refuses its medicine, nor yet with the just man that, through human frailty, "shall fall seven times, and shall rise again".[15] The controversy in which Mr. Barlow has engaged regards the future lot of the wicked—of those who, with full deliberation, have committed grievous sin; of whom St. Paul has said that they "shall not possess the kingdom of God";[16] in a word, of that unhappy band to whom the Great Judge will one day speak those dreadful words: "Depart from me, you cursed, into everlasting fire". It yet remains for Mr. Barlow to demonstrate that this fire will not last for ever, that it will one day be extinguished, and that the torments of the wicked will cease.
We may pass on, then, to other proofs. "How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, that bring glad tidings of good things".[17] This is the sentiment of St. Paul and of the Prophet Isaias. But, argues Mr. Barlow, if the gospel of eternal punishment be true, he that goes forth to preach the gospel to the heathen is a curse and not a blessing. Now what are the practical results of our missions to the heathen? "Is not the testimony of all unbiassed witnesses who have travelled among them uniform? Success is infinitesimal, failure all but universal. What impression has been made by our associations on the hundred and fifty millions of India? Taking the estimates of the missionaries themselves, who are not unnaturally disposed to magnify the good results of their work, the nominal converts are barely one in two thousand, while the number of bonâ fide native Christians, 'possessed of saving faith', may be regarded as practically evanescent. Remembering, then, these facts, and assuming as a not improbable proportion, that a zealous missionary preaches the Gospel to a thousand who reject it for one whom he converts to Christ—God help him—the load of human misery which that man has brought about must surely weigh heavy on his soul.... Has any tyrant, a recognized scourge of the human race, brought down such storms of misery on his species as must be ascribed to the active missionary who has failed? And they have all failed—failed a thousand times over for once they have been successful" (p. 14, 15).
On reading this very remarkable passage we are struck with the ingenuous candour of the writer. It is nothing new for us to learn that Protestant missions in pagan countries have been all but absolutely barren. But it is something new to find a distinguished Protestant Divine, who frankly admits this inconvenient fact. Mr. Barlow must, indeed, find it difficult to persuade himself that the Church which sends forth such missions, is the same as that which Isaias addressed in those well known words: "Enlarge the place of thy tent, and stretch out the skins of thy tabernacles; spare not; lengthen thy cords and strengthen thy stakes. For thou shalt pass on to the right hand, and to the left, and thy seed shall inherit the gentiles".[18] "And the gentiles shall walk in thy light, and kings in the brightness of thy rising. Lift up thy eyes round about and see: all these are gathered together, they are come to thee: thy sons shall come from afar, and thy daughters shall rise up at thy side. Then shalt thou see, and abound, and thy heart shall wonder and be enlarged, when the multitude of the sea shall be converted to thee, the strength of the gentiles shall come to thee". This magnificent prophecy, Mr. Barlow must confess, has no fulfilment in the Protestant Church.
But let that pass. It is not with the fact but with the argument that we purpose to deal. And first, it occurs to us that the argument, if valid, would prove not only against the doctrine which Mr. Barlow impugns, but also against that which he defends. He certainly will admit that a grievous sin against God is a dreadful crime; that it far transcends every other evil which exists or can be conceived. He maintains, moreover, that each one will receive, in the world to come, rewards and punishment "according to his works". Therefore, the punishment reserved for the sinner, even though it were not eternal, must yet be something dreadful to contemplate. And the missionary, the number of whose real converts, "'possessed of saving faith', may be regarded as practically evanescent", brings down this dreadful punishment on all to whom he preaches the gospel. Hence, if we accept Mr. Barlow's argument, even on his own doctrine of finite punishment, the missionary will be a curse to heathen nations; not indeed so great a curse as if the punishment of sin were eternal, but still a curse and not a blessing. He must therefore answer his own argument, or else he will be forced to maintain that there is no punishment for sin in the world to come.
To us his reasoning offers little difficulty. If the heathen, when he rejects the Christian faith, commits a deliberate grievous sin, he will certainly be punished accordingly. But this punishment must surely be ascribed to his own wickedness, and not to the labours of the missionary. The work of the missionary is a blessed work; it is the heathen himself that has changed it into a curse. We may illustrate this explanation from the pages of Sacred Scripture. The wicked servant in the gospel, if he had not received the one talent from his master, could not have buried that talent in the earth. And yet, for this fault he is "cast into exterior darkness", and condemned to "weeping and gnashing of teeth".[19] Will Mr. Barlow say that the gift of his master was not a blessing but a curse? If so, he arraigns the conduct of God Himself, whom this master represents. Again, if our Divine Lord had not selected Judea for the scene of His public mission, the Jews would never have been guilty of the frightful crime of Deicide, nor would they have incurred the terrible chastisement with which that crime was punished. Yet who will deny that the presence of the Incarnate Word amongst them was a special favour—the last and greatest—vouchsafed by a loving Father to that unhappy people? We need only add that the words of holy Simeon, addressed to the Virgin Mother on the presentation of her Infant Son in the Temple, are still applicable to every zealous missionary: "Behold, He is set up for the fall and for the resurrection of many in Israel";[20] for the resurrection of those who hearken to the glad tidings, and eagerly accept the grace which He brings; for the fall of those who spurn the one, and trample the other under foot.
The next argument to which we shall invite the attention of our readers, is founded on the condition of the blessed in Heaven. "But the terrible difficulty arising from the relations of the saved to the lost cannot even be mitigated" (p. 22). This "terrible difficulty" is presented to us in two different forms. First, Mr. Barlow implicitly appeals to the divine precept of fraternal charity. Every one is bound to love his neighbour as himself. Now, if the blessed in Heaven fulfil this precept, they must be intensely miserable. For the proof of true charity is that we feel for our neighbour's sufferings, the same grief as if they were our own. Therefore the saints must experience the same internal anguish for the torments of the damned as if they endured these torments themselves.[21] This argument may be dismissed in a few words. The precept of fraternal charity does not extend to the future life. The blessed inhabitants of Heaven cannot love the wicked in Hell; much less are they bound to love them. They see God face to face, and they love Him with a resistless impulse. Whatever else is good and pleasing to Him, that they love for His sake; whatever is bad and offensive in His sight, they cannot love, because they see that it is unworthy of their love. A divine precept to love the devil and his unhappy companions in misery, is an idea peculiar to Mr. Barlow.
The second form in which this "terrible difficulty" appears is more plausible than the first. Many a saint in Heaven will miss from the mansions of the blessed the friend of his bosom. Many a fond sister will look in vain for her gay and dissipated, but yet warm-hearted and affectionate brother. Many a loving mother will behold afar off the undying torments of her darling son. Are we to suppose that the generous affections of the human heart are extinguished in Heaven? If so, then man must be morally worse in Heaven than he was upon earth. And if not, it cannot be true that "mourning and sorrow shall be no more"[22] in the City of God. Here is the argument as it is put by Mr. Barlow. "I firmly believe that if, in the fruition of the Heavenly Kingdom, a time should come when I shall be capable of forgetting that one who truly loved me in this world ... is alive in hopeless torment—scorched by the everlasting flame—gnawed by the undying worm—I must have sunk down lower in the moral scale before this came to pass. I must have become more deeply immersed in heartless selfishness than I am now. And this, which I believe of myself, I believe of every one else. There is only one explanation of this frightful difficulty. We must assume that the redeemed are morally worse in Heaven than they were on Earth" (p. 24).
This difficulty, which appeals more strongly to the feelings than to the judgment, is by no means peculiar to the doctrine of eternal punishment. It must be explained as well by those who say the torments of the damned will come to an end, as by those who say they will not. If the saints must grieve at the eternal punishment of their friends, they must certainly grieve at the temporal punishment of their friends. The latter grief will be less poignant, it is true; but it will still be inconsistent with perfect happiness. Let Mr. Barlow explain how the inhabitants of Heaven will be free from all sorrow, if the punishment of Hell be limited in duration, and it will be easy to show they will be equally free if the punishment be eternal.
As for us, we see no necessity for any explanation. God has promised to make His saints happy. Surely He is able to do it. Mr. Barlow thinks they will be weeping for their friends. But is it not written that "God will wipe away all tears from their eyes"?[23] In what manner this will be done it is not necessary for us to explain. Yet we may be allowed to offer a conjecture, which, as it seems to us, is supported alike by reason and by revelation. We would say that, in the saints every affection that has not for its object what is good and pleasing to God, will be utterly extinguished; and therefore they will cease to love those unhappy souls that have been condemned to Hell. The reason is clear. The saints in Heaven see things as they are; and hence they cannot love that which is wicked and hateful in the sight of God. In Mr. Barlow's mind this severance of earthly ties must come from an increase of "heartless selfishness". To us it seems to flow from perfect love of God. Neither does it follow, as he supposes, that the saints have "sunk down lower in the moral scale". On the contrary, it is manifest they have been raised up immeasurably higher. On Earth their affections were often guided by mere human motives, and, at best, were governed by an erring human judgment; in Heaven, they are moulded with the most perfect fidelity after a Divine model.