FullReads

And, lastly, he who, like myself, recognises in neither of the two the state of his own mind–who cannot rest in the former, and feels, or fears, a presumptuous spirit in the negative dogmatism of the latter–he has his answer to seek. But so far I dare hazard a reply to the question–In what other sense can the words be interpreted?– beseeching you, however, to take what I am about to offer but as an attempt to delineate an arc of oscillation–that the eulogy of St. Paul is in nowise contravened by the opinion to which I incline, who fully believe the Old Testament collectively, both in the composition and in its preservation, a great and precious gift of Providence;– who find in it all that the Apostle describes, and who more than believe that all which the Apostle spoke of was of Divine inspiration, and a blessing intended for as many as are in communion with the Spirit through all ages. And I freely confess that my whole heart would turn away with an angry impatience from the cold and captious mortal who, the moment I had been pouring out the love and gladness of my soul–while book after book, law, and truth, and example, oracle, and lovely hymn, and choral song of ten thousand thousands, and accepted prayers of saints and prophets, sent back, as it were, from heaven, like doves, to be let loose again with a new freight of spiritual joys and griefs and necessities, were passing across my memory–at the first pause of my voice, and whilst my countenance was still speaking–should ask me whether I was thinking of the Book of Esther, or meant particularly to include the first six chapters of Daniel, or verses 6-20 of the 109th Psalm, or the last verse of the 137th Psalm? Would any conclusion of this sort be drawn in any other analogous case? In the course of my lectures on Dramatic Poetry, I, in half a score instances, referred my auditors to the precious volume before me–Shakespeare–and spoke enthusiastically, both in general and with detail of particular beauties, of the plays of Shakespeare, as in all their kinds, and in relation to the purposes of the writer, excellent. Would it have been fair, or according to the common usage and understanding of men, to have inferred an intention on my part to decide the question respecting Titus Andronicus, or the larger portion of the three parts of Henry VI.? Would not every genial mind understand by Shakespeare that unity or total impression comprising and resulting from the thousandfold several and particular emotions of delight, admiration, gratitude excited by his works? But if it be answered, “Aye! but we must not interpret St. Paul as we may and should interpret any other honest and intelligent writer or speaker,”–then, I say, this is the very petitio principii of which I complain.

Still less do the words of our Lord apply against my view. Have I not declared–do I not begin by declaring–that whatever is referred by the sacred penman to a direct communication from God, and wherever it is recorded that the subject of the history had asserted himself to have received this or that command, this or that information or assurance, from a superhuman Intelligence, or where the writer in his own person, and in the character of an historian, relates that the WORD OF THE LORD CAME unto priest, prophet, chieftain, or other individual–have I not declared that I receive the same with full belief, and admit its inappellable authority? Who more convinced than I am–who more anxious to impress that conviction on the minds of others–that the Law and the Prophets speak throughout of Christ? That all the intermediate applications and realisations of the words are but types and repetitions–translations, as it were, from the language of letters and articulate sounds into the language of events and symbolical persons?