Section third: Law Immutable In its sanctions. -- Law used in a generic sense. -- Theologians too often confine it to a legal system. -- Consequent errors. -- Error of Dr. John Taylor In asserting that the transgressor can be pardoned by and only by the prerogative of the sovereign -- similar error of those who hold that the legal penalty can be executed (by imputation or mystical union) on another than the transgressor. -- Contrary to known principles of law and justice. -- The authority only of the lawgiver sustained by penalty and an atonement. -- Pardon not a matter of right, nor merit, nor claim. -- General view of sanctions from the Scripture history.

 

 

I SHALL now attempt to show that the law of God's moral government, now under consideration, is immutable,

 

(3.) In its sanctions.

 

To prevent misapprehension I here remark again, that I use the word law in that somewhat general forensic meaning in which the word is employed in the Scriptures, to denote that which exists alike under a merely legal system and also under an economy of grace, or in that meaning which is common to the word under both these systems of moral government.

 

The importance of precise views on the present topic, in my estimation, results chiefly from the errors of theologians respecting it, especially when considered in connection with the doctrine of forgiveness or justification. I do not indeed suppose that theologians have to any extent formally and explicitly denied the immutability of the sanctions of the divine law. They may in words affirm this immutability. But of law in what sense -- of what law do we so often hear the predicates, eternal and immutable? Of law I apprehend, in that sense in which it pertains exclusively to a merely legal system; of law, as both a rule of action and of judgment; of law in that meaning in which it can have no existence under an economy of grace; of law which, instead of being absolutely immutable, admits of a most important modification through grace. If law, in the specific sense in which it pertains to a merely legal system -- law as both a rule of action and of judgment -- admits of no change or modification, who of this sinful world can be saved? Some theologians of distinction trace, as we shall see, all that can be esteemed grace and mercy in behalf of transgressors directly to the sovereignty of the lawgiver. Others however, and a very large class of theologians, have rigidly maintained the absolute immutability of law as pertaining to a merely legal system, and hence have attempted to vindicate and uphold/the essential principles of such a law, in the pardon and justification of sinful men, by the quidpro quo conception of an atonement, and of an atonement provided only for the elect, by the doctrine of a mystical union between Christ and believers, of the imputation of their sins to him and of Christ's righteousness to them and the satisfaction thereby of all the claims of law and justice in their behalf, &c., &c.

 

My object now is not fully to examine these palpable errors, for so I esteem them, but to show how entirely subversive they are of the known nature and principles of law. If, as theologians have commonly assumed, law, in the specific form in which it pertains to a merely legal system, be incapable of change or modification, then the utter, hopeless inconsistency between the nature and principles of law and the sinner's justification would be palpable. The attempt to reconcile them on this assumption of theologians, would be an attempt to reconcile an eternal and immutable contradiction with itself -- to show how a sinner's justification, which cannot be according to the principles of law, can be according to these principles. But theologians, shut up by their false assumption concerning the nature of law, have felt themselves under a necessity of reconciling this palpable contradiction, and for this purpose have plainly racked their ingenuity to the utmost, and propounded as the exigency required, yet other contradictions in the form of dogmas no less palpably absurd.

 

What I now maintain is, that law -- the law of God's moral government as common to a merely legal system and to a system of law and grace combined and yet peculiar to neither is immutable in its sanctions.

 

This proposition I shall endeavor to establish, chiefly from the known nature and principles of law and the necessary scriptural import of the word.

 

It may seem quite unnecessary, especially after what has been before said, to show that law essentially involves sanctions. And perhaps it would be were it not for the almost constant virtual denials of this truth, in the speculations of theologians, in their views of the great doctrine of justification. So unreflective and careless on this subject have been the prominent theological writers -- Catholic and Protestant, Orthodox and Latitudinarian -- that from the times of Origeii, not to say of Irenæus, they have scarcely to any extent worthy of notice, given any form to the great scriptural doctrine of justification, which has not in my view involved downright Antinomianism -- the subversion of the law of God in one of its essential elements.

 

What I have now said, I expect sufficiently to justify in the following remarks.

 

Law without sanctions can possess no authority. A perfect rule of action may indeed commend itself to the conscience of a moral being with more or less power or influence. But this influence is not that of authority.

 

If we suppose the lawgiver to give the most perfect rule of action without sanctions, or if we suppose him to give it with them and then so to separate them from the rule, or so to annul them in any way or by any measure or expedient that they cannot, according to strict legal principles or according to the principles, of law and justice, or according to the merit or demerit of any and every subject of law be executed -- then in neither case can the moral governor, nor his moral government, nor his law, be conceived to possess the least authority. Nor is this all. Sanctions are not only the necessary proof of the authority of the lawgiver, but the want of them is decisive proof against his authority. For if he actually felt the highest approbation of the best kind of action, and the highest disapprobation of the worst kind of action on the part of his subjects, as he must if he has the right to reign, he would actually express these feelings in the requisite legal sanctions, and thus enthrone his authority as the best means of securing the highest happiness and preventing the highest misery of his kingdom.

 

What follows? Where there is no law there is no transgression. Transgression being an impossibility, an atonement for sin, forgiveness of sin, a Saviour from sin -- all that we call the gospel, are also impossible absurdities. It is only when law stands forth to the apprehension of its subjects as a full manifestation of the lawgiver's estimate of obedience and its opposite, in the light of the requisite sanctions, that it can with the least truth or propriety be called law either by man or his Maker. If we suppose these sanctions not to pertain to law in their full character, force, and influence; if we suppose them to be separated from law, weakened, mitigated, nullified, then law is divested of its authority, and can with no more propriety be called law than an utterance, from the lips of infancy.

 

Such then, undeniably, is the universal conception which the human mind forms of the thing called law, when the word is employed as a general forensic term, as before defined and explained. This conception of the thing therefore, de usu loquendi, constitutes the meaning of the word -- the meaning in which the sacred writers often use it, and intend that it should be understood. If this be not so, then God in his revelation employs human language to no purpose for the instruction of mankind.

 

I shall now attempt, as proposed, by some further explanation, to vindicate this view of the import of the word law as used in the Scriptures, by exposing what I regard as certain theological errors opposed to it, which result from confounding one of its specific meanings with its general forensic meaning.

 

The first of these errors which I shall notice, and which has had no inconsiderable prevalence with the opposers of orthodox theology, is that which is plausibly set forth by Dr. John Taylor of Norwich, a celebrated scholar and critic. He says, that "transgress and die is the language of law. And therefore every transgressor, the moment he is such, is dead in law, and for any thing in law, he must continue so as long as it is true that he has violated law, that is, for evermore. The law which condemns him can give him no relief; for law would not be law if its sense and language were this -- the transgressor who doth not repent and obtain pardon shall die; seeing this would be to allow transgression by law upon the uncertain conditions of repentance and the sovereign's mercy."

 

The truth and justice of these remarks respecting law, in one specific sense of the word-law as pertaining to a merely legal system -- law as a rule of action and a rule of judgment -- law, in the form in which it was first given in Eden -- are beyond all denial. In this sense of the word law, "the transgressor is dead for evermore, and the law which condemns him can give him no relief." But with this view of the law as an absolute declaration that sin shall be punished, comes the apparently insurmountable difficulty -- how can sin be pardoned? How shall this great problem be solved? The ingenuity of our theologian readily devises a theory, in his view, fully adequate for its solution. He says, "It is the prerogative of the sovereign or lawgiver to remit penalty altogether on the repentance of the transgressor." This assertion is not only wholly gratuitous, but it plainly involves the Lawgiver in palpable self-contradiction. For it is claimed that in his law, he affirms in the most absolute manner and meaning that the transgressor shall die -- shall not be pardoned -- and yet that the same Lawgiver, by virtue of his prerogative as a sovereign, can, and in effect that he will pardon the penitent transgressor. Thus, the language of the Lawgiver in his law, and his language in the promise, justly interpreted, are self-contradictory. His language in both cases cannot be true. And thus this theory of our author by convicting the Lawgiver of self-contradiction, denies his veracity and subverts his authority.

 

Nor is this all. This theory involves two errors, the one being the consequence of the other, while the two propositions which constitute the theory are both false. One of these errors is, that the execution of the penalty of law in case of transgression is absolutely unavoidable from the very nature of law. The other is, that it is the prerogative of the sovereign to pardon on the repentance of the transgressor. It is true that in case of transgression, the penalty of one particular kind of law -- of law as pertaining to a merely legal system is absolutely unavoidable. But then this kind of law admits of one great and material modification or change through an atonement, so that it shall cease to be a rule of judgment, and its penalty be averted. It may still be law in every essential element -- law in absolute perfection -- law unchanged and unchangeable in its high authority, its holy claim, and its righteous sanctions -- all that constitutes it law -- and yet through an atonement it may cease to be a rule of judgment, and its actually existing penal sanction may be, not separated from the law, but left unexecuted.

 

Here obviously, is the source of our author's error. He assumed that law, as a rule of action and a rule of judgment, is the only thing which can be perfect law, in the forensic use of the word. Hence his unqualified assertion, that "Transgress and die" is the language of law; meaning not merely that the penal sanction of death is inseparable from law, but that, if law be transgressed, the penalty must be executed. This is plainly an error, if the provision of an atonement intervene, as it may. For an atonement, as the means of pardon, would accomplish nothing, or rather its effect in pardon would be worse than nothing, if it did not change law as a rule of action and of judgment into simply a rule of action, leaving law in its authority, its claim, its sanctions, unimpaired and unchanged. An atonement which did not sustain this authority, would involve the destruction of all law.

 

Not less plainly would this effect follow from the pardon of transgression, in the exercise of "the prerogative of the sovereign." This is undeniable, on the authority of Dr. Taylor himself. He says: "Law would not be law, if its sense and language were this -- the transgressor who doth not repent and obtain pardon, shall die; seeing this would be to allow transgression by law." But what difference can it make in respect to allowing transgression, whether the Lawgiver proffers pardon to the transgressor on repentance in the words of his law, or reveals the fact in some other mode, that he will pardon sin on repentance, in the exercise of his "prerogative as the sovereign and lawgiver?" It is the fact revealed by the Lawgiver, and not the mode in which he reveals it, which would destroy law. If it be said, that the fact is not revealed by the Lawgiver, then I ask, why is it asserted? If it be said that it is a fact or truth known by reason, then law is known to be a very different thing from what our author says it is. Besides, it is wholly a gratuitous assertion, and who but a madman would risk his salvation on such a basis? If it be said that there is no other way of reconciling grace in the pardon of the transgressor with the import of the word law, or with the essential nature of law, this not only shows how entirely gratuitous the theory is, but it also betrays the source of the error, in the false assumption respecting the general forensic meaning of the word law. He assumes that in this meaning, law in its essential nature as law, not only involves a penal sanction, or threatens transgression with punishment, but absolutely and inseparably connects the execution of the threatening with transgression. In other words, he assumes that law as law in its very nature is both a rule of action and judgment, mistaking a species or kind of law, the law of a merely legal system, for the genus law; and assuming that this kind of law is incapable of any modification or change by grace through an atonement, whereby, retaining its absolute perfection as law, it shall cease to be a rule of judgment.

 

This fundamental error respecting the essential and immutable nature of law is not peculiar to this celebrated divine, and to those who with him have maintained "the prerogative of the sovereign and lawgiver to remit penalty altogether on the repentance of the transgressor." The same assumption, that the immutable law of God is both a rule of action and of judgment, has long been and is still common on the part of most orthodox theologians, and though it has not always occasioned precisely the same form of error in respect to pardon and justification, yet it may appear that it has occasioned substantially the same error, with many others not less inconsistent with the nature of law, not less opposed to the Scriptures, and not less revolting to common sense.

 

Of this assumption concerning the nature of law, the natural consequence on the part of theologians, are theories devised for the purpose of reconciling law and grace. Nor has theological ingenuity faltered even at so formidable an attempt at explanation; but according to its wont, regardless alike of the decisions of the oracles of God and of common sense, and welcoming mysteries to be believed as especially honoring revelation, has fearlessly shot the gulf of theological absurdity and self-contradiction.

 

To remove or explain away the inconsistency now referred to, orthodox theologians have devised and adopted some theory of equivalency, which, at least since the time of Anselm, has extensively prevailed. The object of this scheme is to show how every essential principle of law and justice, in the pardon and justification of the transgressor, is sustained and carried out by the work of Christ. This is obvious at once, from its prominent features. Thus it maintains that God, in his sovereign supremacy and right, constitutes a mystical union between Christ and the elect whereby they become one moral person; that in consequence of this constituted union, God imputes the sins of the elect to Christ, and in his sufferings and death inflicts the legal penalty of their sins on Him; that he also imputes the righteousness of Christ to them; that by these acts of imputation and this mystical union, the sins of the elect become the sins of Christ as really as had He committed them, and the righteousness or obedience of Christ becomes as really the righteousness or obedience of the elect, as had they rendered it; that thus every justified sinner is regarded and considered and treated, not merely as if he had, but as having really and truly -- in re ipsa -- in his own person, never sinned, but perfectly obeyed the divine law; and thus every justified transgressor, having in actual verity fully met and satisfied and sustained every claim of law and justice, can meritoriously claim, before God, justification and eternal life.

 

It is apparent on the face of this theory of justification, that its design is to show that the justification of the transgressor rests strictly and literally on the veritable ground, that every claim of immutable law and justice are as fully sustained and secured in their objects or ends as they would be by the perfect sinless obedience to law, rendered by the transgressor himself.

 

I do not here propose a minute examination of this theory of justification, but to inquire how far it accomplishes the object it professes to accomplish -- that of showing the act of justifying the transgressor of law to be, so far as the principles of law and justice are concerned, a strictly legal and juridical act -- an act not only done in accordance with these principles, but literally and wholly based on these principles.

 

This theory, in two respects, proceeds on the same assumptions as that which has just been considered. And first, it assumes that the immutable law of God not only legally sanctions, but also that both law and justice necessarily involve in case of transgression, the inevitable execution of the legal penalty. This is obvious at once from the mere statement of the scheme already given, and also from the familiar asseveration that the legal penalty must be executed either on the transgressor or on his substitute. And further, like the theory referred to, it so assumes "the prerogative of the sovereign and lawgiver" as to show in two respects the act of justification to be wholly arbitrary -- an act in direct violation of every known principle of law and of justice. For whence come the constituted mystical union of Christ and the elect, and the making, by imputation, their sins his sins, their ill-desert his ill-desert, and his righteousness their righteousness, except from "the prerogative of the sovereign?" The acts of pardon and justification in both cases are acts of mere arbitrary prerogative, for they depend ultimately in both on the simple exercise of such prerogative. Were it not for the supposed mystical union, the supposed imputation of sins and of righteousness could have no basis; and were it not for this supposed imputation of sins and righteousness, the acts of pardon. and justification could have no basis. Both acts therefore are without a pretense, wholly arbitrary, without a reason or shadow of a reason. Both would contravene the essential nature and principles of a perfect moral government, imply the right and the prerogative of a lawgiver to annihilate his law by an act of absolute sovereignty, and to rule for the weal or woe of his kingdom, according to his own caprice.

 

Thus on this scheme, the acts of pardon and justification rest precisely on the same ulterior ground on which that of Dr. John Taylor, and of a large class of latitudinarian diviner, places them -- "the prerogative of the sovereign" -- a ground which our opponents will admit to be no ground at all. But if the acts of pardon and justification depending directly on II the prerogative of the sovereign" depend on nothing, the same must be true if they depend indirectly or ultimately on this prerogative. Whence then arise the acts of constituting this mystical union, and of imputing sins and righteousness? Not from law or from justice, nor yet from the sufferings and death of Christ, for these according to the scheme under consideration are the effects of the mystical union and of imputation. The mystical union and imputation result simply and solely from "the prerogative of the sovereign," which is indirectly the basis of justification. But if this prerogative as a direct ground of justification amounts to nothing in one scheme, it can amount to no more as the indirect ground of it in the other.

 

I ask then, what possible influence or effect on the great principles of immutable law and justice can be ascribed to the phantasms of a mystical union and an imputed righteousness? What warrant or authority, either in law or justice, has the lawgiver to pardon the transgressor on the ground of considering by prerogative, things to be realities which he knows are not realities, rather than to pardon him arbitrarily and directly, in the exercise of this prerogative without the intervention of a mystical union and an imputed righteousness? Will these vain and imaginary appendages to his moral administration change the principles of eternal and immutable righteousness? If not, then how by the gratuitous (theological) asseveration of them, can the pardon of the transgressor be more consistent With law and justice than it is in the scheme of the theologian of Norwich? Both schemes are substantially the same. Both rest on one and the same basis -- that of the prerogative of the sovereign. There can be (words only excepted) no reality in one scheme which is not in the other. If one scheme falls, the other falls. If both stand, then law and justice furnish not the slightest obstacle to the pardon of the transgressor, which "the prerogative of the sovereign" on condition of repentance cannot wholly remove, and we have only to proclaim the latitudinarian dogma, that God pardons the transgressor of his law solely on the ground of his repentance. Nay, worse than this if possible. For the scheme now opposed denies that repentance, or reformation, or any thing else will be the ground or condition of the exercise of the sovereign's prerogative in the act of pardon, without the antecedents of mystical union and imputation.

 

But the theory of justification now under consideration is not only substantially the same as another which its defenders would earnestly reprobate, but is flagrantly opposite to every principle of law and justice. If we know any thing of these principles, we know that no perfectly obedient subject of law can deserve its penalty. Suffering may indeed, in some supposable case, be inflicted on such a subject with his consent. But it cannot be inflicted even with his consent as a legal penalty or sanction -- in other words, it cannot be inflicted on such a subject on the principle, or under the assumption of his ill-desert as the ground of the infliction. No mystical union, nor imputation, nor any thing else on the part of a sovereign God, can impart ill-desert to a perfectly obedient subject of a perfect law. We know this with a higher degree of mental assurance than that with which we do or can believe that there is a perfect God, and to suppose any degree of evidence which should disprove or contravene this knowledge of this principle, is to suppose the moral perfection of God to be disproved. Miracles are only a species of moral evidence, and this always admits of the possibility of the truth opposite to that which it proves. But that a morally perfect being, even Christ Jesus cannot be ill-deserving, is an intuition. For an omniscient God to regard or consider such a being to be ill-deserving, is as impossible as it is that he should know that to be true which he knows to be false; and to treat him as such would be, and be known to be as gross a violation of law, and as high-handed injustice on the part of an infinite as on the part of a finite being. Unless man then can unknow his necessary cognitions; unless he can know that to be false which he knows to be true; unless he can know that to be true which he knows to be false; unless he can know that to be just which he knows to be unjust, he cannot but know that ill-desert cannot be truly affirmed of a perfectly obedient subject of a perfect law, and of course that such a being cannot be capable of bearing, de merito, the legal penalty of such law. He who asserts the contrary, only proves that through the want of reflection he overlooks his own knowledge. This is indeed no uncommon error on the part of good men, especially of theologians in this imperfect state. He who falls into this error in respect to the all-perfect God in his high relation as the moral governor of men -- who imputes to him in this relation what the human mind as a knower necessarily knows to be falsehood and injustice -- ought to remember that to call evil good and good evil, to put darkness for light and light for darkness, is to encounter a fearful exposure.

 

A more minute examination of this scheme would show that every material part of it is entirely unknown to law or justice -- that it involves principles entirely foreign and directly repugnant to every principle of both, as well as utterly subversive of the Gospel plan of redemption -- principles which, instead of pertaining to the high relation of a perfect lawgiver, render the conception of such a relation impossible to the human mind. Indeed, if we are to rely on the necessary decisions and judgments of the human intellect -- without which we can rely on nothing as true -- then in this scheme these necessary decisions concerning law, justice, truth, equity, veracity, moral government, every thing which lies at the basis of faith, of confidence, and repose in God, are changed into their opposites. Law ceases to be even respectable advice; for the lawgiver abandons its claims by sovereign prerogative. Justice is converted into injustice; for the lawgiver makes our sins the sins of another, and inflicts the legal penalty which is due only to us, on him who is perfectly holy and perfectly obedient to law as an act of justice to him! This, according to the scheme under consideration, satisfies the perfect justice of the lawgiver. And thus, in his sovereignty, by imputing our ill-desert to our substitute, and inflicting on him the penalty which we only deserve, but which he is said to deserve, he exempts us from all ill-desert and from the entire legal penalty. But this, according to the scheme, does not meet all the exigencies of the case. The lawgiver therefore, in a mode equally unauthorized, is supposed to make in the same arbitrary manner the obedience of the substitute our obedience, or perfect righteousness; and on the ground of this perfect righteousness, thus made really ours by sovereign prerogative, we are justified according to the principles of law and justice and the exactest truth of things. Sinners as we are, and deserving the whole penalty of a perfect law, we do yet, by the metamorphoses of mystical union and imputation, come to merit eternal life -- acquire a right to it as our legal reward!

 

Without pursuing for the present these details of absurdity and self-contradiction, I ask if this whole theory of justification is not the merest phantasm of the imagination instead of the reality of truth? I ask if it is not most flagrantly to transmute the essential nature and relations of things into their opposites, and thus to lead the mind to conceive what it necessarily conceives to be true, to be false, and what it necessarily conceives to be false, to be true? I ask if a theology thus produced is entitled to a moment's consideration as even in the slightest degree plausible, unless the mind disciplines itself into the belief that known phantasms are realities, and known realities phantasms; that known justice and known injustice, known transgression of law and known obedience to law, known merit and demerit in law, the known moral perfection of God, his benevolence, goodness, justice, veracity, grace, and mercy, when compared with their opposites, have changed places; in short, that every necessary conception which the human mind forms of what is true and what is false on the most momentous of all subjects, changes place with the necessary conception of its opposite? Can an all-perfect lawgiver by sovereign prerogative make eternal truth falsehood, and eternal falsehood truth? Can he by sheer despotic authority set at defiance, transmute, abolish, every principle of eternal, immutable rectitude, and substitute its opposite in the actual, administration of his government; can he by his mere sic volo make myriads of beings one being, and yet each to retain his personal individuality -- make one perfectly holy being to deserve the legal penalty due only to these sinful myriads, and these sinful myriads perfectly righteous by the perfect righteousness of one, regard such an exploit and its effects as a reality, proceed to adjudicate the retributions of eternity on the basis of such transmutations, and yet reign in the glory of his justice and in the majesty of his authority?

 

Some may think that to ascribe such views and opinions to wise and good men, demands an apology. This however, will be thought only by those who know too little of the history of theological opinions to believe such errors credible, not to say probable. I have no apology to make for these representations except my own full conviction of their truth; I do not question what some may be disposed to call the sincerity, in their opinions, of this class of theologians; in other words, that they actually believe without due reflection what they so often and zealously affirm, and that they will in most cases continue thus to believe, because this will supersede the labor of further reflection.

 

The great desideratum is to show how law and grace can be reconciled -- how law in every essential element can be perfectly sustained and the transgressor be pardoned.

 

I remark then, that the law of God's moral government, immutable in its high authority, its holy claim, and its righteous sanctions, may exist in its absolute essential perfection as law, and through an atonement cease to be a rule of judgment to the transgressor, and its penalty for transgression be unexecuted, and the transgressor be justified. This must be admitted to be possible, or the pardon and justification of the transgressor under a perfect law would be an utter impossibility in the nature of things.

 

Again: law, as appears from what has been already said, must be perfect in all its essential elements before it can be obeyed or disobeyed.

 

From the mere giving or existence of a perfect law, with its authority and claim fully sustained by the requisite sanctions, cannot be determined that any subject or subjects will be punished, for all may obey the law; nor that any will be rewarded, for all may disobey the law. Perfect law does not reward or punish its subjects as subjects, but only as obedient or disobedient. If the subject is obedient, the reward follows as a matter of justice; for the lawgiver, his kingdom, and the individual subject have a right that the obedient subject be rewarded. If the subject be disobedient under a merely legal system, then punishment follows as a matter of justice, not because the disobedient subject has a right to be punished, and thus a personal claim to be punished, but because the lawgiver has a right, and his kingdom has a right that the disobedient subject be punished. The lawgiver is pledged from the essential nature of his perfect law to protect all these rights, and to secure the objects of these rights to their possessors so far as it is possible to him. This is the essential and the entire function of his relation as a perfect lawgiver. Now these rights may be comprised in the right of the lawgiver to the obedience of every subject; in the right of the obedient subject to the legal reward; the right of the lawgiver to reign by sustaining the influence of his authority as a perfect ruler; his right to his own highest blessedness as this depends on the perfect and universal obedience and blessedness of his kingdom, and the right of his kingdom to its perfect blessedness. Of all these rights, with their objects, there is one, and only one, of which it can be said it is possible to him, from the nature of the best system, that of a perfect moral government, perfectly to secure, viz., his own right to reign as a perfect ruler. Free moral agents, as the subjects of a perfect moral government must be, must have power to disobey law, notwithstanding any power of the lawgiver to prevent their disobedience. If they disobey law, then the right of the lawgiver to their perfect and universal obedience, his right to his own perfect blessedness and that, of his kingdom, and the right of his kingdom to the perfect obedience and blessedness of all, are hopelessly and forever violated. The objects of these rights can never be perfectly accomplished. Nothing can be substituted for the violation as an adequate redress of the evil done. I do not say that the evil cannot be redressed in some imperfect measure and degree. It is manifest however, that no complete or adequate redress for the evil can be conceived possible. To suppose it, is to suppose that the highest blessedness of God and of his kingdom should be secured by something besides the only thing which can secure it -- the perfect and universal obedience of all his subjects. The perfect protection and security of these rights in their objects and ends must be waived, abandoned, whatever partial redress of the evil be supposed. But, as I have said, there is another of the violated rights, which, notwithstanding disobedience, can be perfectly protected and secured; THE RIGHT OF THE LAWGIVER TO REIGN, OR HIS AUTHORITY AS A PERFECT RULER. This right can be upheld by the lawgiver himself, not by his subjects. This can be done by him, not as some suppose, by a sovereign act of absurdity and self-contradiction, but either by the execution of the penalty or by an atonement which shall sustain his authority as truly.

 

That the moral governor's authority would, in case of transgression, be fully sustained by the execution of the legal penalty, will not be denied or doubted. In like manner if a provision of grace, whether called an atonement, propitiation, or ransom, which nothing in the essential nature of law forbids, can be made, and which shall as perfectly sustain the authority of the lawgiver as the execution of the penalty, then can the pardon of transgression be made consistent with the perfect authority of the lawgiver. This provision made, the lawgiver evinces his right to reign, though every subject of his kingdom be in revolt. This provision made, all is done which it is requisite should be done, or which in the circumstances can be done, to sustain every right which the justice of the lawgiver requires him to sustain. In the atonement an equivalent for the execution of the penalty is provided, which fully sustains his right to reign, and secures the unimpaired influence of his authority. In sustaining this right and fully securing its object -- the influence of his authority -- he sustains so far as it is possible in the nature of things, every other right in the moral universe, and also the object of every such right. Transgression having occurred, and the lawgiver fully manifesting his perfect character and thus sustaining his authority, he sustains his own right to the obedience of every subject, though through the fault of disobedient subjects, he does not, as he cannot perfectly secure the object of this right; he sustains fully the right of every obedient subject to the legal reward, though he does not, as he cannot secure the object of this right, because there is no obedient subject to receive the legal reward; he sustains his right to his own highest conceivable blessedness, though he does not, as he cannot secure the object of this right, because the perfect and universal obedience of his subjects is withheld; he sustains the right of his kingdom to its own highest blessedness, though he does not, as he cannot secure the object of this right, because of the disobedience of his subjects on which such blessedness depends. Thus the moral governor sustains every right of the moral universe by sustaining his own right to reign, i.e., his authority, and by securing the object of this right -- the actual influence of his authority through an atonement -- by sustaining this right of his own, and by securing its object through an atonement, as perfectly as he would by rewarding a perfectly obedient, or by punishing a perfectly disobedient kingdom.

 

And now if he finds good reasons for pardoning transgression, or rather if by so doing he can accomplish a far higher amount of good than by any other means, then why not pardon, accept and save as many transgressors on certain conditions prescribed by his wisdom and goodness, as the greatest good possible for him to secure may require? By so doing would his perfect moral character be concealed or impaired? Plainly not, for he accomplishes all the good he can. What more can be done? If less were done, who could trust, who adore? Can then his justice be impeached? Plainly not; for while he has violated no right of the pardoned transgressor, he has sustained and vindicated every right of his own and of his moral kingdom. Can his authority as a lawgiver or the authority of his law be questioned? Plainly not; for by the provision of an atonement he has fully sustained this authority. Can it be pretended that he has violated, sacrificed, abandoned any principle of rectitude, of truth, of justice, or goodness? Not surely in granting pardon and justification under the provision of a perfect atonement; for as we have seen, he appears in the full glory of his rightful dominion. Not surely in providing a perfect atonement, for there is no principle of rectitude, of law, justice, or truth, which forbids such a provision, nor its effect in modifying the law of a merely legal system, so. that it shall cease to be a rule of judgment. The lawgiver in his law under a merely legal system, declares that under the existing system the transgressor shall die. But he neither declares nor says aught which implies that the particular system, and with it the law of the particular system, shall not be so changed or modified by an atonement, that while the sanctions of law remain in full force, the specific law itself of a merely legal system shall not cease to be a rule of judgment; and that while the legal necessity of executing its penal sanction in case of transgression shall also cease, his right or prerogative remains unimpaired to execute the legal penalty or not in any case of transgression, as it shall seem good in his sight. Otherwise the God of truth could never have provided the atonement, nor any atonement properly so called. Nor can it be pretended that the lawgiver by any influence of an atonement, separates from this perfect law its sanctions, or in any degree weakens their influence; for how does the moral governor in adopting this additional expedient for the purpose of sustaining his authority, take away or weaken the influence of -- existing sanctions? Is an addition a subtraction? If an atonement annihilates the sanction of law, or in any way renders it unjust to execute the penal sanction on any transgressor, then so far it does not uphold but annihilates law itself. In such a case, no matter how or by what means an atonement is made, whether it be based on a mystical union, on the imputation of sins or of righteousness, still it destroys law by separating sanctions from law, and so exempting the transgressor from a just exposure to penalty. Exemption from the penalty is accomplished by the atonement through the annihilation of law. The act of pardon and justification by the lawgiver and judge is therefore an absurdity and an impossibility. Besides, sanctions are not only essential elements of a perfect law, and as such essential to its authority and its existence, whether in certain circumstances they are executed or not, but in certain other circumstances eternal justice demands their execution. The perfectly obedient subject, if there be such a subject, must according to every principle of law and justice be rewarded. Nothing can divest law of its reward for the obedient subject. The disobedient subject of law, according to the same principle of law, must without faith be punished even under the provision of a perfect atonement. The certainty that the elect sinner will believe during his probation, affects not the truth of the proposition, that without faith the legal penalty must be executed on him, which shows that the law has the same penalty according to its essential nature as law, which may justly be inflicted on both the elect and non-elect, though it will not be inflicted on the former, when both shall be judged by the law of faith.

 

Nor can the moral governor or his kingdom, acquire a right to the pardon of even a believing transgressor as the necessary and proper effect of an atonement. The atonement is not designed to create, nor can it create any new rights. New rights may indirectly result from it by, gratuitous promise to the Redeemer and to others; but the atonement as such, is designed simply to sustain one and only one existing right, and to secure its object -- the authority, of the moral governor or his right to reign. There is no other existing right in case of transgression, as we have seen, whose object an atonement can secure. The right of the moral governor, and that of his kingdom, to their own highest conceivable blessedness in respect to these objects of these rights are irretrievably marred by sin. To say when sin has taken place, that the atonement secures the objects of these rights in the highest possible degree, and so creates rights which did not before exist, is not true; for both these rights existed in absolute perfection before and without the provision of an atonement -- the right to the highest possible happiness conceivable, involving in each case the right to the highest possible happiness in all circumstances even when sin exists, while neither of these rights can be acquired as the effect of the atonement, nor could be alienated without an atonement. Besides, that the lawgiver cannot acquire his right to pardon the transgressor as the true and proper effect of the atonement, is evident from another consideration. When the atonement as such has fully sustained the authority, of law as it must, there is yet another thing necessary to the lawgiver's right to pardon even one transgressor; for the act of pardon must not only be rendered consistent with the authority of the lawgiver, but consistent also with the general good. But the pardon of the transgressor without faith or personal holiness would not be consistent, but inconsistent with the general good, and the lawgiver can have no right which is inconsistent with the general good. The atonement as such, therefore, cannot result in the right of the lawgiver to pardon the transgressor, but must produce its whole effect in sustaining the authority of the lawgiver. Nor can the atonement as such be the ground of pardon, either directly or indirectly, by. being a manifestation of the love of God to a sinful world, and as such a manifestation, having a reclaiming tendency or influence; for it is only as a complete and perfect atonement, that it becomes such a manifestation of love as it is, and thus acquires its reclaiming influence. An effect is no part of the essential nature of its cause. The atonement then must be complete in its essential nature, and so fully sustain the authority of the lawgiver, or it cannot manifest the love of the lawgiver to sinful men, or possess the least reforming tendency. Is it then said, that an atonement must be a designed substitute for the punishment of the pardoned sinner? But surely a perfect law giver can design to substitute nothing for this punishment except a complete and perfect atonement; except that which as its full effect sustains the lawgiver's authority. The design thus to substitute it, cannot therefore be essential to its completeness or perfection as an atonement, but must result solely from its completeness as an atonement.

 

Nor yet -- and most of all -- can an atonement reader it unjust, as some suppose, to an elect transgressor to punish him. Every transgressor, elect or non-elect, deserves to be punished, and, therefore may be as justly punished under an atonement as were no atonement provided. He deserves to be punished, not on the ground of having the absurd right to be punished, but solely on the ground of having violated the rights of the moral governor and of his kingdom -- rights which are eternal and immutable, and which, with one grand exception, God's right to reign -- a right protected by God, and not by the transgressor -- are eternally frustrated in their objects by transgression. Nor can the transgressor be supposed to acquire, as the effect of an atonement merely, the absurd right to be exempted from the legal penalty, according to any principle of law or justice. To suppose this, is to suppose that as the effect of an atonement merely, he acquires and sustains some new personal relation to law, to justice, and to the general good, which renders his exemption from punishment his due; for no being, except on the ground of such a relation, can possess a right to any blessing as his due. To exempt one then from a deserved penalty who has a right to such exemption, is not an act of pardon or forgiveness, but an act of rendering to him what is his due, what can be justly claimed on his part, what cannot be withheld from him without flagrant injustice to him; in a word, it is an act of justice. Thus to exempt one from a deserved penalty who has a right to the exemption, is to exempt from punishment one who ought injustice to be punished, and who ought not in justice to be punished -- who deserves to be punished, and does not deserve to be punished -- the doing of which defies all power and all prerogative. Besides, the transgressor can deserve punishment simply and solely on the ground that the rights of the moral governor, and the rights of his kingdom -- rights which in their very nature are immutable and eternal -- that these must with one exception remain violated by the transgressor, and be thus frustrated in their objects for evermore. He has done this deed. He has done what he could to frustrate every right of the moral universe, and to fill this universe with the woes of sin instead of the joys of perfect and universal holiness: he had successfully accomplished the result, had not God by atonement and grace interposed his influence to prevent the dire catastrophe. And now can ill-desert be separated from such an act or from its author? Can the relation of the cause to its effect be separated from the former? Can these momentous rights of God and of his kingdom, thus irretrievably and eternally frustrated in their objects by the transgressor, be looked upon in their ruins, known and thought of by himself and by every rational and knowing being, and the ill-desert of such a deed not be necessarily and infallibly known by all to be, forever inseparable from its perpetrator? Can such a moral being become sinless, free from ill-desert in the sight of God, of man, of truth? Not while he is immortal. Ill-desert once incurred by the act of the transgressor, is not an appendage which can be laid aside or separated from his act. This is admitted by, the doctrine of imputed sin. And if it cannot be separated from the act, no more can it be from the actor. The act when done is in its nature and tendency, and as a cause of its actual effect, all in ill-desert that it ever can be. It cannot be changed by being made a less evil than it is; and however the full effect of the act in the destruction of all rights is restricted and limited by the interposition of the lawgiver, the ill-desert of the act or of the actor is not thereby either lessened or taken away. For a perfect atonement enthrones law and the lawgiver, not by rendering it unjust to punish, but by rendering it not unjust, that is, consistent with justice to pardon the transgressor. Thus the sanctions of God's law, the terrors of his justice, and the withering abhorrence of his holiness for sin, in their unobscured and awful manifestation, are combined with the full effulgence of his love and mercy in all their attractions and charms to a revolted world. These are the wonders of the cross. It is this vision of God which will make the heaven of the redeemed. The ill-desert of sin will not be regarded as a thing that was and is not, nor yet forgotten or unthought of, in one note of that song to the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne -- much less will a right to pardon and eternal life be claimed in that song. Will that persecutor and blasphemer, that chief of sinners who said, "God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of Christ;" and again, "By the grace of God I am what I am;" and again, "I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord;" will this man whose life as an apostle was one hallelujah of praise to his Redeemer here on earth, forget this song on his throne above? Will he ever forget his present ill-desert, or deny that the justice of God as a lawgiver might cast him down from his throne to the doom he deserves? Can such theology be in heaven? The claim of right to heaven's reward, no matter on what it were founded, would chill and break every heart and cause the praises of redeeming love to cease. No mystical union, no imputation of sins and of righteousness, no works of law, no legal righteousness, will be set to music in that world. Sinners there appreciate the mercy which confers eternal life on those who deserve eternal death. They wish not to forget their ill-desert. It is the cherished remembrance of it, with its contrition, which inspires their gratitude, their joys and their praises; nor would heaven be heaven to them, could they not cast their crowns at the feet of Him "on whose head are many crowns."

In confirmation of our present leading proposition, that the law of God is immutable in its sanctions, much more might be said on the authority of the Scriptures. Indeed the proof meets us as it were in every part of the sacred volume. It is so various, so multiform, and so obviously decisive, that while it would be tedious, it is quite unnecessary to attempt any exhibition of it in its particular forms and fullness. What I further propose at present, is in a brief way to call attention to some of the more striking facts of God's providence, in which he must be viewed as having begun the execution of the penal sanction of his law.

 

Man then at his creation was placed under law by his Maker, with the sanctions of eternal life and eternal death. This law as a perfect rule of action, involved nothing. less in requirement than that spirit of loyalty which is due to the all perfect Being from creatures made in his own image, and of course was nothing less than what our Saviour has called "THE FIRST AND GREAT COMMANDMENT OF THE LAW." This law, considered as a perfect rule of action, was virtually given to God's entire moral creation, and of course thus given as the law of requirement to the whole race of human beings, as binding on them from the commencement of their future moral and accountable existence. God however, had in his high counsels determined not only that our first parents should be the progenitors of a numerous race, but also that this whole race should become the subjects of this perfect rule of action from the commencement of their moral agency and commence their moral character by transgressing this perfect law. Our first parents had no sooner transgressed this perfect law than the promise of redemption was revealed, and they and the whole race of their descendants were placed under an economy of mercy -- an economy under which the latter were to commence not only their moral relations to their Maker but also their moral character in sin. Was then the perfect law of God repealed, or its essential sanctions separated from it? Was it thus annulled as an authoritative rule of action by grace? Was the law as law impaired in its essential perfection and force, so that the transgressor aside from grace was not fully exposed to its penalty? Then were grace in redemption a solecism -- a redemption from a legal penalty when there was no such penalty which could be executed. Redemption then necessarily implies a law with a penalty, which from the very nature of law must be executed on every transgressor, unless its execution be prevented by his compliance with the condition of pardoning mercy.

 

And now how prominently and impressively is all this presented throughout the whole patriarchal history! Who had not transgressed the law of God? Not one. Who was delivered from its fearful penalty? Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Lot -- those and those only who in faith offered sacrifice to God, emblematical of the real and all-sufficient atonement of the promised seed -- the Son of God. What became of all other men? Let the deluge answer which engulfed a world; let the tempest of fire which destroyed the cities of the plain. These according to Christ and his apostles, were examples suffering the vengeance of eternal fire." Thus in the beginning of this world's history, the actual execution of the legal penalty of sin has been averted from those only who by faith have relied on the great sacrifice of redemption, while the execution of this penalty has been begun before the eyes of men in all those innumerable cases in which temporal death in God's vindictive judgments has been known to come upon men in their sins. And now is there no penalty as a legal sanction pertaining immutably to God's law -- penalty which can be averted from the transgressor only by accepting the great sacrifice of redemption, with the acknowledgment of the just desert of that penalty? Is the law of God as law -- I do not say as a particular kind of law -- modified in the least respect; especially is it not distinctly, and as it were in fact sensibly manifest, enthroned in its full authority by its essential penal sanction? And if we follow the history of God and of man in this world as given by revelation, from the calling of Abraham, in the deliverance of his descendants from Egypt, in the giving to Israel of the law on Mount Sinai, and in his administration of this law itself as their national king and national deity; or rather if we view this theocracy as a system representing God's moral government over men as moral beings -- for otherwise it is nothing but a system of beggarly elements -- what do we find in this history of God and man but God in sensible manifestation, presenting himself constantly, almost exclusively, in the premature temporal death of men as transgressors of the Mosaic law, by war, by famine, by pestilence, every instance of which stands forth as an instance of vindictive wrath, of death in sin -- eternal death? These things were done through many, many long centuries -- done not only in the view of Israel, but of all the nations of men. If now we pass to the righteous judgment of God in the destruction of this people who crucified their Messiah -- the most signal expression of wrath which God ever made in this world, and view it as we must, the beginning of his vindictive wrath never to end what do we find but God revealing himself by facts manifest to sense, in the execution of the penalty of his law on impenitent and unbelieving men? And now in view of these facts, will it be pretended. that the penalty of God's law is separated or separable from it, so long as it is law in its essential nature? Nothing plainly has separated the penalty of the law from the law itself in respect to those on whom this very penalty is executed. Has anything produced this effect in respect to those who as a further effect, are exempted from this evil through grace? This implies that the evil as a legal penalty, is in respect to this class, separated from the law before their exemption from the evil. Of course such axe not exempted from the penalty of law, but from an evil which had before been but has now ceased to be a penalty of law. They are not pardoned; they are not forgiven; they are not justified according to any principles of law, for the law has been annihilated in its sanctions, and of course wholly annihilated that they may be exempted from what was once its just penalty, but is so no longer in respect to them. No matter on what supposed grounds or reasons this is done -- whether by mystical unions by imputation, by atonement, by faith, by any one or all these combined -- if by the separation of the penalty of law from law itself, the transgressor is exempted from this evil, he is not and cannot be said to be exempted from a legal penalty, for there is no legal penalty from which exemption is conceivable, but forgiveness, remission, pardon, justification by grace in respect to a transgressor of law, are words without meaning.

 

But it cannot be necessary to dwell longer on this subject. Any view of God's sovereignty, of mystical union, of imputation or atonement, which separates from God's perfect law its penal sanction in respect to a transgressor, annihilates that law for the transgressor's benefit.

 

Here too it might be shown that the whole system of redemption as revealed in the Gospel in all its grace and mercy, is according to this view of law wholly subverted. For what can be plainer than that if by some mysterious, unheard-of maneuver or process, a lawgiver could and should, in his sovereignty, constitute in reality and truth a multitude of disobedient subjects of his law, and another sinless or perfectly obedient subject of his law, ONE MORAL PERSON, so that the moral character, and with it all the legal relations of the former as transgressors should cease to be theirs and become those of the obedient subject, and so further, that the moral character of the latter, and with it all his legal relations as a perfectly obedient subject, should cease to be his and become those of the transgressors -- l ask if these things were -- done, where would be the grace, the mercy, the forgiveness, the pardon, the gratuitous justification of the Gospel? So far as acts of grace and mercy to the transgressor are concerned, these consist in some sovereign acts of necromancy called constituting a mystical union, imputation -- justly and on grounds of ill-desert inflicting legal penalty on a perfectly obedient subject, by which all personal sins and ill-desert of the transgressor cease to be his own and become another's, and all the perfect personal obedience and merit of another become his. Here cease the acts of grace and mercy toward the transgressor. What more grace or mercy does he need? What more are possible in his case? But in all this there is no forgiveness or remission of sins, no pardon, no gratuitous justification, nor yet the least preparation or ground for the possibility of either, but only a preparation for him who was once a transgressor, to come free from all ill-desert, all guilt, all just exposure to legal penalty, free from sin and perfectly obedient to law, and demand as matter of absolute right and justice, on the ground of personal merit, the acceptance and favor of the lawgiver. Is this pardoning or forgiving iniquity? Is any such use of language to be found in Hebrew, Greek or Latin -- in any human language? Did a human being ever ask God or another human being to pardon his offense or his sin, meaning that it should be done by the process of mystical union, imputation, and by so giving him a personal claim -- a claim de merito, a claim of right and justice -- to favor on the ground of his absolute faultiness and the fulfillment of every obligation? Is this "justifying the ungodly?" Is this being justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus? Or is it the subversion of the entire system of grace and mercy revealed in the Gospel?