“THE DIAL.” In our late notice of this periodical, under the title of Transcendentalism, we intimated an intention of recurring to it again, in reference to the article on “Brownson’s writings,” and particularly his “Charles Elwood.” We shall now devote a few moments to that work.
The reviewer commences with a few remarks, worthy of notice. All original thinkers will respond to them. “The great mass of scholars,” says he, [that is, writers, speakers, teachers,] are impelled by no passion for truth. They are content to clothe the current thoughts of the day in elegant forms. They value ideas, only as the materials for composition; while the intense desire to pierce into the mysteries of the universe, and to discover truth, is a stranger to their souls. Hence their productions, though polished and classical, do not satisfy the common mind; [uncommon minds, he should have said; those who think originally and independently.] The true secret of vitality is wanting; and though they may gratify our taste, they do not aid our aspirations.” This is true. Most of the popular works of the day, most of the sermons we hear, nearly all the new poetry we read, is of this class. We meet with nothing new in idea; all is common-place; it is a thrice-told tale; the same familiar things in a new dress. Nothing is so dull, wearisome and tedious to searchers after new truths, as this kind of ordinary literature.
But, says he, “There is a small class of scholars, [authors] whose aims and pursuits are of a different character. They value literature not as an end but as an instrument. They wish to look into the truth of things. Thought, in them, is stirred up from its lowest depths. Their writings, accordingly, whenever they appear will be alive. They will probably offend or grieve many, but, at the same time, they will be welcomed by others, who find in them the word, which they were waiting to hear spoken.” How gratifying it is, to read those authors, who speak what we have often thought, but what we have never before seen or heard expressed! And how dull it is, to meet only the “damnable iteration” of old, familiar truths, or perhaps old falsities!
Mr. Brownson’s “Charles Elwood” is a deist, or a doubter. In various conversations, the usual arguments in favor of the truth of Christianity are brought forward; to which he replies, and of which he shows the fallacy and weakness. This is done, that, after showing that a revelation from God to man cannot possibly be proved by logical reasoning, WE MUST, of necessity, have recourse to an internal perception of God and truth, to instinctive knowledge, to inspiration, or transcendentalism. The deistical arguments are fully and fairly stated, and the weakness of those against it, freely confessed. In reading this work, the eyes of many will be opened, in this respect, and those will doubt, who never doubted before. Whether all will overcome these doubts, by embracing the transcendental system, is perhaps questionable.
After arguing, that we cannot possibly know that any other person has a revelation from God; because he may speak falsely, or be deceived, or the history of such a revelation, after his death, may be falsified;—the reply is, that miracles are a proof of such inspiration. This is the usual argument in theological books. To this, Elwood makes answer: “The miraculous events recorded in the Bible may have occurred, for aught I know, but they are of no value as evidences of Christianity. For aught we know to the contrary, there may be thousands of beings superior to man, capable of performing miracles. [Satan, it may be, can perform miracles. He can transform himself into an angel of light, and deceive even the very elect, and therefore may also perform miracles.] Also, “a man may perform miracles, and yet he may tell a lie. The fact, that a miracle is performed, does not necessarily involve the truth of the doctrine taught, nor the veracity of the miracle-worker; he may yet be a teacher of false doctrines. If the gospel history be correct, there were men, who actually saw Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead, and yet neither recognized his claims as the Son of God, nor as a teacher of truth.” The performance of miracles, then, in that age, was not considered sufficient evidence of divine authority, or of a revelation from God. Why, then, should it be so considered now; and more especially the mere history of those miracles, which history we cannot even know to be true. “Reasoning, therefore goes to show, says Mr. Brownson, that a revelation from God to man is impossible;” that is, we cannot possibly know that God has revealed himself to any one else; and if we have a revelation ourselves, how can we know that it is from God? It may be from some other exalted being, good or bad; or it may be a mental deception.
“They, (says Mr Brownson) they who deny to man all inherent capacity to know God, all immediate perception of spiritual truth, place man out of the condition of ever knowing anything of God. God may speak to him, and utter truths which he could not himself have found out; but unless there be in him something which recognizes the voice of God, and bears witness for God, it is all in vain. There must be a God within to recognize and vouch for the God who speaks to us from without.”
Mr. Brownson continues: “The defenders of Christianity must first establish this point, that man is endowed with an intelligence, that knows God immediately, by intuition. They who deny this may be religious, but only at the expense of their logic. If we cannot establish the reality of this element, which is sometimes termed the divine in man, and which, though in nature, is supernatural, it is in vain to seek for any scientific basis for theology; and unbelief in God is the only conclusion to which we can legitimately come.”
Now, we cannot perceive how this removes the difficulty. We are as likely to be deceived in this perception, as any other. We cannot possibly know it to be from God, though it may seem so to us. How is “the reality of this element to be established?” Feeling it within us does not establish it; for our feelings may deceive us, as is proved in many cases of insanity and monomania; and those, who do not feel any thing of the kind, have still less reason to admit it. If it is to be assumed, then we may as well assume any thing else: we may assume that miracles are positive evidence of divine authority, and inconsistent with untruth. We may believe that this element truly exists, but we cannot know or prove it; and we may believe that miracles are good evidence of divine revelation, though we cannot know or prove it.
Mr. Brownson tells some truths, which we do not often find set down. “The immortality of the soul (says he) is assented to, rather than believed. Rarely does the believer find that relief in the doctrine of immortality, which he insists on with so much eloquence in his controversy with unbelievers. He might find it—he ought to find it—and one day will; but not till he learns that man is immortal, and not merely to be immortal.”
Again—“The hope of immortality is not needed to enable us to bear griefs, to meet great calamities. These can be met, as they have been met, by the atheist, with a serene brow and a tranquil pulse. We need not the hope of immortality to meet death with composure. The manner in which we meet death depends much more on the state of our nerves, than the nature of our hopes. But we want it when earth has lost its gloss of novelty—when our hopes have been blasted, our affections withered, and the shortness of life and the vanity of all human pursuits have come home to us and made us exclaim, ‘Vanity of vanities, all is vanity;’ we want then the hope of immortality, to give to life an end, and aim.”
Again—“There is, at this time, not much open skepticism, not much avowed infidelity; but there is a vast amount of concealed doubt and untold difficulty. Many, many are the confessions to this effect, which I have received from men and women, whose religious character stands fair in the eyes of the church. I have been told by men of unquestionable piety, that the only means they have to maintain their belief even in God is, never to suffer themselves to inquire into the grounds of that belief. The moment they ask for proofs, they say, they begin to doubt. * * * Even among the clergy themselves, doubt finds its way, Learned professors proclaim publicly and emphatically, even while denouncing infidelity, that we can have no certainty;—that our evidence of Christianity is, at best, but a high degree of probability.” Surely then, (he continues) it is time to turn Christianity over, and see if it have not a side which we have not hitherto observed. Perhaps, when we come to see it on another side, in a new light, it will appear unto us more beautiful, and have greater power, to attract our love and reverence.” This “other side” is transcendentalism. To the feelings, the imagination, the hearth, it possibly may; but to the intellect, the reason, the cool, calm examination of logical scrutiny, we think it will not.
Thus far Mr. Brownson. The reviewer adds—“The want of such experience [that of doubt, conflict, investigation] is the reason why so many of our standard writers on the foundation of faith are more ingenious than satisfactory, and usually fail to remove the difficulty that was deeply felt. They have no sympathy with doubt: their minds are of a different stamp from those that love to examine first principles. They are well satisfied with traditions of ages. Of the stern agony of thought, by which a rational faith is produced in a state of society that questions every thing, they have no suspicion. They may become powerful advocates of the opinions which the multitude cling to; but they know not how to touch the spot where doubt rests in the heart, which other causes than any vice or lie have led to distrust its ancient faith: when they enter that sphere, let them hush.”
There are truths, strong, bold, and thrilling. Few doubts of this kind have ever been removed by theological books, or by sermons on the evidences of Christianity. These often create doubts—they rarely disperse them. We have always considered such a sermon, or a course of lectures upon the evidences of Christianity, as a school for deism—as the worst employment for christian ministers. Those have the strongest faith, who have never inquired, and to whom the idea of doubt has never been suggested. The writer of this recollects well, that in his youth, the first doubts were suggested to his mind by reading a reply to Paine’s Age of Reason: He had not then read the work itself. He had heard and read of deists, and of their “weak” attempts to undermine Christianity;—but they were represented to be wicked, abandoned men, desirous of disproving what they feared to admit; and all their objections and arguments were said to have been fully and completely refuted. Of this I had no doubt, and therefore felt easy and satisfied. It was not till I had read some of these attempts at refutation, and found them not so satisfactory and demonstrative to my mind as I had anticipated, that something like doubt and alarm was raised in my mind. I presume the case to be the same with other persons. The mind, weary, embarrassed, dissatisfied with mere reasoning, at last relinquishes it, and takes refuge in feeling. The outworks of the intellect are abandoned, and a last retreat, a dernier resort, is made to the strong hold of the heart. ***
“The Dial. . .” Boston Courier, 10 Aug. 1840.
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NOTE FROM THE WALDEN WOODS PROJECT: While the author of this article is unclear, the editor of Boston Courier was Joseph T. Buckingham (1779-1861), a New England journalist and politician in the National Republican and Whig parties.
