LETTER XVI.
Dear Charles—I am not surprised that you “stand
up” for the clergy; but why read my last two letters to that
inveterate skeptic, Coolheady? Did you not know he would
say, “All accident—all accident: general providences are,
perhaps, well enough; but none of your special affairs for
me; or, if any special ones occur, it is only on grand occasions.”
And have you learned to sneer from that old infidel, when
you wish to know “what special providence is illustrated
by the incident of the skeleton and that of the dissection?”
Why, you wiseacre, those two incidents were not told for that
purpose; although, even in them, we can see goodness, and
wisdom, and even specialty. Such things may be necessary
to form a special character; and to act in circumstances
where previous drilling in calmness and courage and self-possession
were the main things needful to success.
Pray, tell me, Charles, does your soi-disant philosopher
believe at all in a Supreme Intelligent Sovereign? If he
does not, our argument is ended; an infidel of his age is past
my powers. But if he does, please ask him what he means
by accidents in the government of an infinitely wise and
powerful ruler?
We all know that things, as far as we are concerned,
may often be accidental; they may happen without our contrivance,
forethought, wish; but that is a sorry philosophy
which makes such things accidents with God. Contempt is
generally felt, and by a certain class often expressed, for our
views. Aye! they are the men; and devout people, with
them, are little better than good simpletons. But we really
pity that folly which can admit, in the government of God, a
single accident; and which makes the all-wise one rectify
his mistakes and alter his plans, when accidents have (
horresco
referens) taught Him weakness or error! What a
magnificent worm a self-inflated philosophist is!
My old neighbor allows indeed, “general,” but not
“special providences!” Possibly, Coolheady may confound
special with miraculous interference. In that case
his distaste of a misapprehended doctrine, is not marvellous.
Some nominally good persons do seem to speak as if, with
them, special providence was a miraculous interference, in
which the laws of nature were contradicted, or suspended,
or altered: but nothing can be more unscriptural, unreasonable,
or even unnecessary.
By special providences, we mean a divine arrangement
that affects and influences all persons, things, actions, and
events, disposing and allotting all matters minutely and accurately,
and yet in, and by, and with, the proper use of
suitable and common means. Providence is so general, as
usually to human sight it seems to neglect and overlook
the particular; and then on the other hand so special, as if
it contemplated one thing, and one only.
We further believe, that the special providence is such
disposal of all things, whether rational or irrational, animate
or inanimate, and of all means, agencies and instrumentalities,
as shall at a precise moment, accidental to us, but intended
by God; miraculous to human eye, but wholly, naturally,
and well understood to any endowed with higher intelligence,
or to man himself, if admitted to a nearer view;
as shall at a precise moment of need, do for us or give us,
what was most earnestly desired, but not expected. It is in
this secret ordering and arranging of natural causes the
special providence consists.
And, Charles, such special providence, more or less
marked, takes place every day and hour and moment. No
man is altogether destitute of such peculiar divine care, in
his history. Most, however, have no skill to discern them;
and too many have not piety enough to regard them, or be
thankful. God, in this respect, as well as in what is deemed
his ordinary and general care, has not left himself without
witness; but men impiously shut their eyes, resolving all
into accident, and confessing, with something like a complimentary
acknowledgment, that the Supreme is a God in the
general way, yet has neither power, wisdom, skill nor inclination
to enter into specialties.
Doubtless, special providences are more remarkable in
the case of good men; for in this sense, as in all others,
“The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him:” yet
such providences are not confined to professedly or really
good men. The goodness of God in this way leads men to
repentance. If men do neglect the special interference,
and particularly if they scorn it, they seem to be often given
over by God to delusion in regard to his government; and
come at last on this, as on all other moral and spiritual
subjects, to believe a lie.
Dear Charles, it is my firm conviction, founded on evidence
satisfactory to myself, that if providences are carefully
regarded by us, and thankfully improved, and if we do,
childlike, trust implicitly in God as a Father reconciled
through his Son; it is my firm conviction that special providences
will increase in number, and, if I may so speak, in
intensity, so that we may look back and see them like so
many distinct and bright lights in the darkness of the past,
marking there the path along which we are walking to our
rest. Or, perhaps, our sight becomes improved, and we
clearly discern the finger of God, where the wilfully blind
see only chance. In either case, we reap the good fruit of
obedience and love; and thus walking with God we have a
clear and blessed light, where others grope in darkness.
Mr. Coolheady “pities my delusion!” No, Charles, he
scorns mine: it is I that pity his. How can he pity, when
he cannot believe me a loser? I see and know him to be a
loser of measureless joy and hope. Alas! poor old gentleman,
I have spoken playfully about him sometimes, but
Charles, I do pity him.
What infatuation! to suppose the Supreme Being acts
specially and particularly on what we deem state occasions;
or when there is a time worthy of a God. All God's creatures
are dear to him, Charles. Oh! the blessed Bible!—
it so accords with our natural instincts and wants and desires
and fears and hope! It was sent down from Heaven for the
childlike, for the helpless, the weak, the poor, the disconsolate.
What a world of assurance in a few words!—“the
hairs of your heads are all numbered!” “not a swallow
falls to the ground” without God's permission! No! no!
philosophers never
did make the Bible—that is true enough.
And thank God they
never did. Philosophy would have given
us a
general providence, a dignified, gentlemanly, scholar-like,
statesmanly affair! Avaunt thee, Fool! Wrap thyself
courtly in the robes of stateliness and formality and
scornful complaceney! Strut around with bespangled fan of
peacock and large feet, before the wondering eyes of gaping
earth-worms! In the lawful way of God's own book, “I
hate thee with perfect hatred;” and “I account thee
mine
enemy,” for thou art God's.
