From: The Dial, Vol. I, No. II (Oct. 1840)
Author:
Published: Weeks Jordan and Company 1840 Boston
THE pamphlet here noticed is by Andrew Wylie, President of Bloomington College, Indiana. When we remember that its author is, and has for years been an eminent Calvinistic divine, we cannot but regard this word of his as one of the most noteworthy and encouraging signs of the times. We hail with joy this free utterance from the West. We do not know indeed, if even from this comparatively enlightened and liberal section of the country, and from the bosom of the most progressive body of Christian believers, any freer and bolder word has been spoken than this. It cannot fail, we think, to spread panic through the ranks of the custom-fettered sectarians. It cannot fail to be welcomed by every unshackled seeker for Truth.
Without attempting a complete review of the work before us, we would sketch roughly its main features, give a few extracts, and perhaps add some reflections of our own.
It appears from the Author’s preface, that he has been for a long time in a progressive state. “The thoughts,” he says, “contained in the following pages were gradually suggested to the mind of the writer, during the last twenty-five years.” Of course then, he has been more or less suspected of heresy. But the heresy, he maintains, is on the part of his brother Calvinists, and not to be charged upon him. For heresy, he says, is departure from faith in Christ as the chief corner stone, and building with the gold, silver, wood, hay, or stubble of human speculations. He will by no means take the Confession of Faith as an infallible rule of belief, for this very Confession says itself, that the Bible only is such a Rule. He will not suffer himself to be chained down to a sect; he will be his own master, and reverence his own soul. “The claims of Truth,” he says, “are sacred and awful. A mind fettered by authority is unfaithful to the God of Truth, who made it free.”
The work is in the form of Trialogue, and consists of eight Conversations between the author and two sectarian friends, a Calvinist and a Methodist. The significant names of these interlocutors are Timothy, Gardezfoi, and Democop. The conversation moves onward very pleasantly and naturally, and without diffuseness. The discourses of Timothy, who is the Socrates in the debate, are enriched with fine thoughts, tending towards if not reaching the plane of the highest spiritual,—with sound and elevated criticism on those lofty words which are “spirit and life”—with specimens of acute reasoning—with the genial outbreathings of a warm, liberal heart.
The position which Dr. Wylie takes with regard to the great question which this age is to agitate, namely, what constitutes Christianity, will be considered an elevated one; for a Calvinist, a new, or very strange and unusual one. If not the highest view which the full truth warrants, it approximates to it, and relatively to the popular belief of the church, is a mighty stride onwards. Though he clings to the authority of the written word as infallible, he contends against modern creeds. Though he accepts even the doctrines of the Calvinistic church, he protests against working them into a system. To him they stand as truths for the Reason, not for the Understanding. The Infinite cannot be contained in creeds and systems. Most earnestly does he urge this truth; and even if we think him to err in the application, yet he has strong hold of the truth itself. He has a perception of the difference between Comprehension and Apprehension. He believes in such a thing as Intuition. He will not measure the firmament of stars above him as he does the field of flowers at his feet. He is strong too, as well as clear-sighted. Thus he will not grind logic always in the prisonhouse of the Philistines, but has power to pull down on them the pillars in which they most trusted.
And down the pillars must come, if many such Samsons are suffered to go loose among us. We can well imagine that the Doctor would now be looked at by most of his Calvinistic brethren, as one of those bright-eyed, venomous serpents, who are now-a-days said to be crawling about, blasting their wholesome brothers, sibilant and insinuating, their crests bristling with the pride of “new views,”—one who, if he lived here, would go about branded with the nickname “Transcendentalist,” a terror to women and children—the more so as having crept out of an unlooked-for quarter.
Dr. Wylie takes his stand apart from creeds and confessions of faith, and solely upon what Reason teaches as the fundamental truths of Scripture. All sects and sectarianisms are heresy. The original meaning of the word hairesis is sect. Heresy consists in confounding faith with opinion. To make opinion the test of faith is departure from Christ. Faith is trust in God. It is a moral, not an intellectual element. We extract a portion of what Timothy says on this point.
“A mind conscious of guilt cannot trust in God, without a just sense of his goodness and mercy. Hence, when we closely examine the matter, we find that the element of faith is a moral element—not any notion in the intellect. For as faith is trust in God, who is only and supremely good, it is the same with trust in goodness. But it is goodness that trusts in goodness: and I know, on the contrary, of no surer criterion of a character radically and essentially vicious, than suspicion and distrust. Once or twice, through life, I have seen persons take up and prosecute enmity against another on mere suspicion, for which there was not only no ground at all, but which was cherished in opposition to demonstrations, on the part of the person suspected, of the utmost kindness, forbearance, and good will towards the suspicious person. The enmity entertained against Joseph, whose character was remarkable for simple honesty and affectionate confidence, proceeded manifestly on the part of his brothers from their want of these qualities; in other words, they were destitute of faith in moral goodness. But the greatest and most striking demonstration that the world ever saw of both parts of this truth, I mean the direct and the converse of it, we have in the character and the conduct of the Son of God, and his treatment by the leaders of religion among the Jews, and the great body of the nation. On the part of the Saviour, what unshaken faith in the Father, whose will he came on earth to execute, and, as the fruit of this faith, or confidence, what steady and active perseverance in that course of unexampled and perfect goodness which he accomplished! And, on the part of the Jews, what obstinate distrust in the god-like character, presented in all its commanding dignity and attractive loveliness before their eyes! And why this distrust? this infidelity? Because they themselves were destitute of goodness. They were supremely selfish, themselves; and they could form no conception of that disinterested love of Christ, which induced him to bear the contradiction of these sinners against himself, and even to lay down his life for their sakes.”—pp. 18, 19.
In the first two conversations it is established that it is heresy to confound opinion with faith. Timothy then goes on “to develope another element of heresy, sect; that, namely, which violates or sets aside the unity of the spirit for a unity of science.” After speaking of the love of theological and metaphysical system, which was early prevalent in the church, and spread over Christianity, and of the barren results thereof, as seen in the Catholic church, the author proceeds;
“Thus the matter stood at the commencement of the Reformation. The Protestants, so called because they solemnly protested against the usurped authority of the so called Universal Church, exercised by the clergy with the pope at their head, in determining the creed, that is to say, deciding by a simple decree what was truth and what error, rejected the established system or creed:—but they did not perceive the folly of creed-making. They too must have a system. They too viewed religion as a science, and the Bible as containing the scattered truths of that science; which, therefore, it was their duty, like honest philosophers, to pick out, gather together, and arrange into a system. And to the work they went, with all the talents and learning and industry they possessed. And that was not a little. But, considering the work they were at, it was certainly not enough. For what was it they were about? Making a system. Of what? Of the conceptions of the Eternal mind. Respecting what? The Infinite, the boundless, the unknown! Their projected system was to be a tower, whose top should pierce the skies, and overlook the universe and eternity. They failed, of course, as did their prototypes on the plains of Shinar; for the enterprise was too great for mortals; their language was confounded; they divided into companies and each company built a system: so that the whole face of Christendom has become dotted over with the structures of these puny builders—ant-hills, rather than towers; the abodes of angry insects, ever ready to bite and sting each other, except when they make a truce, for the purpose of annoying a common enemy. A set of opinions are extracted from the Bible, and put into the form of a system, and this system is held more sacred than the Bible itself; insomuch that many make a religion of their orthodoxy, which consists in a steady, not to say obstinate adherence to these opinions. They are viewed as a sacred and precious deposit to be kept, explained, guarded, and defended with the most vigilant jealousy and the most ardent zeal. They are called God’s truth. His honor is supposed to be concerned in their preservation. And men feel as if to surrender one of them would be to put their salvation itself in jeopardy.”—pp. 41, 42.
On the next page he says,
“The truths of divine revelation, supposing those of his system to be identical with the truths of divine revelation, were never proposed by their author as matters of science, truths to serve as subjects on which to exercise the powers of contemplation and ratiocination, but as great moral principles to move and purify the heart, and to govern the life: as presenting motives to the will, sentiments and views to the spirit, light to the conscience, models of moral beauty to exalt and exercise the spiritual desires and affections. Their use is, as intimated before, to produce not orthodoxy, or a set of sound opinions, but orthopraxy, or a course of right conduct.”—p. 43.
This great truth, the impossibility of making a science, a system, of Theology, is well developed and illustrated in the third and fourth Conversations. The doctrine, that spiritual things are only spiritually discerned, is advocated in opposition to that which intimates that a man’s speculative creed is his religion.
We feel compelled to give our readers a rather long passage at the end of the fourth Conversation, in which the author exhibits his views with regard to spiritual intuition and the evidence of miracles.
“About the year 1820, the celebrated Dr. Chalmers published a work on the Evidences of Christianity, in which he rejected the internal evidences entirely. His reason for so doing is remarkable. I shall state it in his own words:—‘We have,’ says he, ‘experience of man; but we have no experience of God. We can reason upon the prudence of man in given circumstances, because this is an accessible subject, and comes under the cognizance of observation. But we cannot reason on the prudence of the Almighty in given circumstances. This is an inaccessible subject, and comes not within the limits of direct and personal observation.’ Again, he says, ‘there can be nothing so completely above us and beyond us, as the plans of the Infinite Mind, which extend to all time and embrace all worlds. There is no subject to which the cautious and humble spirit of Lord Bacon’s philosophy is more applicable, nor can we conceive a more glaring rebellion against the authority of its maxims, than for beings of a day to sit in judgment upon the Eternal, and apply their paltry experience to the councils of his high and unfathomable wisdom.’
“There is, doubtless, some truth in these remarks; but taken together as advanced by their author for the purpose of invalidating the argument drawn from the ‘internal evidences,’ by showing that it is not a legitimate argument, because pertaining to a subject inaccessible and beyond our reach, they have filled me with no little surprise, and especially as coming from a Christian divine of such distinguished abilities. How could it have escaped the penetration of such mind as his, that the objection he raises against the legitimacy of the argument from the internal evidence must recoil, with all its force, upon the argument from the external evidences of miracle and prophecy, on which he is anxious to rest the whole weight of the question? Were the Deity to me an inaccessible subject,—had I no knowledge of him previous to the revelation proposed to me in the sacred scriptures, of what use, I ask, would a miracle be to me? Suppose I saw, for instance, Lazarus raised from the dead, how would this convince me that the effect produced was produced by the power of God, if I knew nothing previously about the power of God? Were I entirely ignorant of the power of God, I could not without presumption think or say anything whatever respecting it, what it could, or could not effect. The raising of a dead man to life might be beyond his power, for anything I could tell. And, if interrogated on the subject, I ought to reply, ‘God is an inaccessible subject; I have no experience of him; I dare not sit in judgment in a case where I know nothing. It would be an act of rebellion against the humble and cautious spirit of Bacon’s philosophy.’
Besides, suppose I were somehow convinced that the resurrection of Lazarus was indeed effected by the power of God, still that would afford me no good reason why I should rely on any statement made me by his commissioned messenger, were I not previously acquainted with other attributes of his nature, or were his character, as to other traits of it, an inaccessible subject. God, I might say, has, by his power, restored this dead man to life before my eyes. For what? To gain my confidence in the truth of certain statements, that are made, or to be made, in his name. But, power and truth have no necessary connexion. God may be a deceiver. I have no experience of his character; nor can I have. It is an inaccessible subject. He may be a selfish and malignant being; and this very miracle may have been wrought to win and mislead my confidence. The truth is, the very appeal made by miracles themselves, on which Dr. Chalmers is willing to rest the whole weight of the argument in favor of Christianity, is a useless and idle appeal, if made to a man in any age of the world and in any circumstances, were man such a being as the Dr.’s argument supposes. But he is not. There is in his nature, wrapped up in the depths of his spirit, a revelation of God, prior, of course, to all external revelation, and but for this an external revelation were as useless as it would be impossible, and at the same time, as impossible as it would be to the beasts that perish. Where did we get our moral perceptions and their corresponding sentiments—our sense of the True, the Right, the Just, the Beautiful, the Fair—the To Kalon, as the Greeks called it? Not from the Bible surely, any more than we got our eyes from the Bible. We use the latter in perusing its sacred pages, but we are not indebted to these pages for our eyes, neither are we for the seeing spirit—the living faith in Moral Goodness,—which the Spirit of the Eternal breathed into us, in lighting up within us the principle of an immortal life, in virtue of which we can see God and commune with Him—trace the impressions left by his plastic hand on the face of external nature—and hear the sweet tones of his voice, as they sound through all her lovely palaces—and echo in the recesses of the temple in our own bosoms. No! God is not an inaccessible subject. He is nearer us than any other subject. Our spirit touches His! What am I saying? His spirit pervades ours! In him we live, and move, and have our being. We are his offspring. And how could it be thought, by a Christian divine and philosopher, that HE had made himself inaccessible to his children—hidden himself from the view of all of them, except a favored few to whom a special revelation was to be made! The Apostle Paul thought differently, for he says that ‘His eternal power and Godhead are clearly seen ‘ in the visible creation. St. John thought differently, for he writes, ‘In him was light, and the light was the life of men—the light which enlighteneth every man that cometh into the world.’ The Royal Psalmist thought differently, for he says; ‘The heavens declare the glory of the Lord; the firmament showeth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night teacheth knowledge. There is no speech, no language—their voice is not heard. Their sound is gone out into all the earth; their instruction to the end of the world.’
“No; God is not an inaccessible subject. If he were, no miracle, our senses, no prophecy, no words nor art of man, could bring him within the reach of our thoughts. We should want an interpreter within, to teach us the import of whatever impression from without might be made upon. Were man made destitute of spirit, how could he scale, by the help of any outward revelation, the lofty heights by which the moral is raised above the physical? Pleasure he might understand through the soul, as affected by impressions made on the bodily senses and appetites; but without spirit, a moral nature, how could he form a conception of moral goodness and beauty? And without a conception of this, how could he, by miracle or any other means, be made to apprehend God? Power he might discover, but power is not God. The skill of contrivance he might discover in the structure of nature; but an Almighty architect of boundless skill is not God. God is a spirit; God is love; God is Wisdom and Goodness accomplishing their ends. These things he could not understand, from anything without. He must draw them up from the depths of his own spirit, where God reveals himself first to man, and where every man finds in himself those moral ideas which he puts together, and out of these frames the Grand Idea of which God is the Archetype. There is a faith which cometh by hearing: but before this, in order and importance, there is a faith which the word of revelation presupposes, and which, therefore, this word does not produce. According to the representation of the matter, in the parable of the sower, there is required a goodness in the soil, which the seed that is sown upon it has no agency in producing. This is the faith in question. It is what may be called faith in moral goodness. To this the Apostle refers when he says that the word of the gospel was revealed from faith to faith, meaning from the faith, that is, faithfulness of God, its author, to the faith, or trust in Him, existing in those who were to receive it.
“When the government of ancient Greece sent abroad a public servant, with whom a correspondence was to be carried on, the matter of which required secrecy, they adopted the following expedient. Two staves were formed exactly of the same dimensions, one of which the officer took with him, the other remained at home with the government. And should occasion require a communication to be sent, they took a narrow slip of parchment, and rolled it round the staff, beginning at one end and proceeding to the other, till the whole was completely covered. On this they wrote their communication. It was then taken off, and sent to the officer. Should it, by any mischance, fall into the hands of an enemy, he could make nothing of it. If it arrived safe, the officer receiving it, enwrapped his staff with it, and thus it became legible. Such a letter they called skytale.
“The Father of our spirits, when he sent them from heaven into these bodies, gave to each one of them such a skytale, conscience, a moral nature, corresponding to the moral nature of God himself. This is a divine light in the spirit, the oracle which Penn, and Socrates, and indeed all good men of every age and country venerated, and consulted with so much care. In the proper use of this, we are able to hold correspondence with our Father in heaven, read his mind and will in the skytale, he has sent us. Those among the Jews, who possessed this in the days when God, by his Own Son and his forerunner, sent his message among them, received it at their hands, read it, obeyed, and were saved; and thus, in the language of Christ, Wisdom was justified of all her children. Those who possessed it not, for it may through carelessness be lost, ‘rejected the counsel of God against themselves’ or, as the passage should be rendered, ‘frustrated the counsel of God, as it respected themselves,’ by rejecting the message, and maltreating those that bore it—and so perished.
“Now, that, in order to set aside the internal evidences of Christianity, that is, the evidences arising from its spirit—the moral nature in it which addresses itself to our moral nature—Dr. Chalmers should have overlooked the fact, that we have a moral nature, owing to which God is to us an accessible subject, is truly surprising, and to be accounted for no otherwise, than from the spirit-quenching influence which the practice of system—making had on his mind. And if it had such an influence on his mind, what may we suppose to have been, and still to be the state of the general mind? We view Christianity as a science; we work it up into a system; the system we erect into a creed; the creed becomes the standard of faith the orthodox faith—the watchman-cry, ‘All’s well!’—but the glory has departed, the spirit is gone; a form of dead orthodoxy is all that remains! But, here I must drop the subject; will you meet, and resume it with me at my house, this day week, at the usual hour?
“G. & D. Yes.”—pp. 59-63.
In the remaining Conversations the author enters fully into the nature, evils, and remedy of sectarianism. We might give many rich extracts, but forbear; and in taking leave of the little work, would express our cordial sympathy with that free but humble spirit which here has thrown off the ice -fetters of a sect, and is leaping out into the genial atmosphere of a truer, purer Christianity.
Far in advance as this writer is of the sect of believers to which he has been attached, he has not, as we think, taken the highest view of Christianity. There is a higher view, as we before intimated. We do not find fault with Dr. Wylie, or anybody else, for not pressing on towards that view; our feeling towards him is that of gratitude for having done so much towards bringing back the almost buried and defaced ideal of the Christianity of Christ—“the truth as it was in Jesus.” Yet admitting the principles advanced in this pamphlet, we see not how a free mind can limit the Christian name to those alone, who hold a speculative faith in him as an inspired messenger from God. We would have that hallowed name cover all Christ-like souls. The saints of the earth, no matter what their opinions may be, should be in the inner circle, where Christ stands with his flock of blessed souls around him, all transfigured with him. The name of Jesus should stamp not the outward but the invisible church. For the Christianity of Christ is not a creed, and has nothing to do with creeds, but is a Life. This has been somewhat said among us, but not enough. The idea in vogue is, that Christ taught a system of speculative doctrines as his peculiar religion, and intended that a belief in these should distinguish his followers from the world. We see nothing in the records of his life to warrant this view. The mission of Jesus was to the Heart and Conscience of man, and not to his Intellect. He was a spiritual Reformer, not a Philosopher. His purpose was to bring men nearer to God, make them one with Him—not to set their minds at work upon hard and knotty problems. He came to make men holy, not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, not by maxins, wise sayings, high oracles, books, churches, or creeds, but by stamping his character on their hearts, and winning them by love to the heart of God. The essence of true Christianity is neither in historical facts, nor in an intellectual belief, but in the Principles which Christ lived and taught. To be penetrated with a conviction of the truth and divinity of Christianity, is to be filled with an inner sense of those eternal principles of holiness which stand back of Christianity, of which Christianity has been the great outlet. To know Christ is to know holiness and love. It is not to subscribe to a creed, to join a church, to form an opinion by balancing arguments and accumulating evidence, but it is to have the spirit of Christ—to be Christ-like. In the light of this truth all opinions and creeds become invisible, as the stars do at sunrise. We care not what our neighbor’s creed is, if he only has the great principles of purity, justice, truth, and love enshrined in his soul, and manifested in his life. He may be no believer in Christ as supernaturally commissioned,—he may reject the authority of the Scriptures as ultimate,—he may call himself a skeptic; but if he is Christ-like, he is entitled to be of Christ’s flock. His speculative opinions are but dust in the balance, when viewed beside those divine principles of Duty, which we see shining in his soul. Let him doubt, and deny—but if he be a good man, the skepticism of his understanding hardly weighs a feather with us. We see him based on a rock. We see him grounded upon a foundation not laid by human hands, but in spite of human hands, laid in the soul by God himself. We see that though his understanding is in emptiness and in isolation from divine truths, yet his heart and moral instincts are linked to God.
But most persons persist in confounding opinions with principles, nay, even in exalting opinions above principles; whereas man and God are not more distinct from each other. A man, they say, must have fully made up his mind on certain doctrines. He must believe in some Trinity or atonement, in some prophet or miracle, or he must have faithfully and scholar- like studied and mastered some volume of Christian evidences, or if not able to do this, he must have taken the testimony of those wiser and more learned than he, that Christianity is true; or he must have stifled thought by the now lifeless theology of a past age, and sold away his freedom by signing certain articles of human invention, or he is no Christian. But if this be the road to Christianity, give us some other be the true knowledge of Christ, give us infidelity—let us not be numbered with those learned sectarians, who would climb to heaven by books and creeds and dogmas.
And yet when this mighty distinction between Heart and Head is presented to such persons by an illustration, they cannot screen their bald inconsistency, by withholding an acknowledgment of the truth of the principles we have urged. Bring them to the test, present to them plainly the contrast between the theologian, the scholar, the creed-worshipper on the one hand, and the man of unwavering principle on the other, and their prejudices are put to shame—they find it impossible not to see the chasm between the two.
For the dwellers in Truth are like the inhabitants of this earth. As, wherever we go, and whatever city or house we dwell in, we are still at home on God’s earth, the firm ground never leaves us, but stands built down under us, thousands of miles thick, so wherever we live in the world of eternal verities, no matter what creed we house our heads under, we ever touch the firm land of Truth. We may call ourselves Bostonians or Athenians, and our habitation a city or a house, or an apartment in a house, but we are not the less for that reason citizens of the earth, nay, of the whole universe. So we may call ourselves Catholic or Baptist, Jew or Mahometan, so far as we dwell in the light of the principles of truth and goodness, so far, and so far only, we are members of the true church. Our home is the whole moral universe shone upon by the light of divine truth. But if the name Christian is to be narrowed down to a sect, which takes its stand upon speculative doctrines, in the name of all that is true, let us take some other appellation, and leave this, however cherished it may be, to the wrangling disputers who are fighting for it.
People talk of different Religions. There is and can be but one Religion. All else is but diversity of form. The eternal principles, which lie at the bottom of all religious systems, are the same. Religious truth is universal, uncontradictable. The religions of Adam, of Moses, of Mahomet, and of Christ, are grounded on the same great principles of man’s relation to God. The difference lies in the degree in which the truth is promulgated through these persons, and not in the kind of truth presented. One system has greater fulness of truth than another. We speak of the fundamental ideas of such systems, and not of their subordinate parts.
Revealed Religion does not differ in its nature from Natural Religion. They are only different flowers from the same root. Natural Religion is the half-opened bud, Revealed Religion the glorious flower in full bloom, and fragrant with the perfume of its heavenly origin. The characteristic of Revelation is that it is the shining of a brighter light, like the sun rising upon a world which has been sleeping in the cold, dim starlight of the dawn. The light is the same light—there cannot be two kinds of light, nor can there be two kinds of truth. Christianity is a broader and more emphatic declaration of the eternal law of God, and only so far as we see it to be an expression of God’s law is it authoritative.
How futile then, and perplexing, to take up such speculations as we meet with all around us, as if such things were essential to our salvation. Shall we not rather say, “Give me thy word, O Father, thy word written not with fading ink, not in perishing forms, not in the subtile distinctions of metaphysical dogmas, but on the tables of the heart, by thine own hand-writing. Give me that ingrafted word, which doubt and change cannot pluck up reverence my spiritual nature—I have no sure light but this—O, may I keep it undimmed, unquenched, and may its flame point upward ever unto Thee.”
Such was the Idea which inspired the mind of Jesus, and which he was continually uttering. And yet, in spite of this, the church has always thwarted his purpose, and insisted upon a creed. It has always and does now everywhere demand what a man believes, not how he lives. Of this error the Church will do well to get rid, as soon as possible. Did our Saviour ever ask a man his creed, before he gave him his benediction, and suffered him to follow him?
The Christianity of Christ then is not a sound Theology, but a Holy Life. The poor, uneducated day-laborer may know far more of Christ than the philosopher in his rich library, surrounded by all the learning of the world. Christian Truth is universal truth the light which lighteneth every one who cometh into the world. It is no man’s exclusive property. It is common, free, and unpurchased as the light, the air, and the water. There can be no monopoly here. The invitation is to all. “Ho every one who thirsteth, come ye to the waters.” “Whosoever believeth on me shall never thirst.” Sin alone keeps us from the fountain. Unless we resemble Jesus, “our eyes will be holden that we shall not know him,” his character will seem too lofty for our imitation, and his words too mystical for our comprehension. We may profess to follow him, but it will be but a phantom, not the real Christ. But let us be true to the Highest within us, as he was, and our hearts will burn within us as we commune with him, till enamored of that uncontained Beauty of Holiness, of which he was so large a partaker, we become at length worthy of his holy name.
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* Sectarianism is Heresy, in Three Parts, in which are shown its Nature, Evils, and Remedy. By A. WYLIE. Bloomington, Ia. 1840. pp. 132.
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