or TYRUS, was a famous city of Phenicia. Its Hebrew name is צור or
צר, which signifies a rock. The city of Tyre was allotted to the tribe
of Asher, Joshua xix, 29, with the other maritime cities of the same
coast; but it does not appear that the Asherites ever drove out the
Canaanites. Isaiah, xxiii, 12, calls Tyre the daughter of Sidon, that
is, a colony from it. Homer never speaks of Tyre, but only of Sidon.
Josephus says, that Tyre was built not above two hundred and forty years
before the temple of Solomon; which would be in A. M. 2760, two hundred
years after Joshua. Tyre was twofold, insular and continental. Insular
Tyre was certainly the most ancient; for this it was which was noticed
by Joshua: the continental city, however, as being more commodiously
situated, first grew into consideration, and assumed the name of
Palætyrus, or Old Tyre. Want of sufficient attention to this
distinction, has embarrassed both the Tyrian chronology and geography.
Insular Tyre was confined to a small rocky island, eight hundred paces
long, and four hundred broad, and could never exceed two miles in
circumference. But Tyre, on the opposite coast, about half a mile from
the sea, was a city of vast extent, since many centuries after its
demolition by Nebuchadnezzar, the scattered rains measured nineteen
miles round, as we learn from Pliny and Strabo. Of these, the most
curious and surprising are, the cisterns of Roselayne, designed to
supply the city with water; of which there are three still entire; about
one or two furlongs from the sea, so well described by Maundrell, for
their curious construction and solid masonry. Old Tyre withstood the
mighty Assyrian power, having been besieged in vain, by Shalmaneser, for
five years; although he cut off their supplies of water from the
cisterns; which they remedied by digging wells within the city. It
afterward held out thirteen years against Nebuchadnezzar, king of
Babylon, and was at length taken; but not until the Tyrians had removed
their effects to the insular town, and left nothing but the bare walls
to the victor, which he demolished. What completed the destruction of
the city was, that Alexander afterward made use of these materials to
build a prodigious causeway, or isthmus, above half a mile long, to the
insular city, which revived, as the phœnix, from the ashes of the
old, and grew to great power and opulence, as a maritime state; and
which he stormed after a most obstinate siege of five months. Pococke
observes, that “there are no signs of the ancient city; and as it is a
sandy shore, the face of every thing is altered, and the great aqueduct
is in many parts almost buried in the sand.” Thus has been fulfilled the
prophecy of Ezekiel: “Thou shalt be built no more: though thou be sought
for, yet shalt thou never be found again,” Ezek. xxvi, 21. The fate of
insular Tyre has been no less remarkable. When Alexander stormed the
city, he set fire to it. This circumstance was foretold. “Tyre did build
herself a strong hold, and heaped up silver as the dust, and fine gold
as the mire of the streets. Behold, the Lord will cast her out, and he
will smite her power in the sea, and she shall be devoured with fire,”
Zech. ix, 3, 4. After this terrible calamity, Tyre again retrieved her
losses. Only eighteen years after, she had recovered such a share of her
ancient commerce and opulence, as enabled her to stand a siege of
fourteen months against Antigonus, before he could reduce the city; but
after this, Tyre fell alternately under the dominion of the kings of
Syria and Egypt, and then of the Romans, until it was taken by the
Saracens, about A. D. 639, retaken by the Crusaders, A. D. 1124; and at
length sacked and razed by the Mamelukes of Egypt, with Sidon, and other
strong towns, that they might no longer harbour the Christians, A. D.
1289.
The final desolation of Tyre was thus foretold: “I will scrape her dust
from her, and make her like the top of a rock: it shall be a place for
the spreading of nets in the midst of the sea: for I have spoken it,
saith the Lord God.” “I will make thee like the top of a rock: thou
shalt be a place to spread nets upon: thou shalt be built no more; for I
the Lord have spoken it, saith the Lord God.” Nothing can be more
literally and astonishingly executed than this sentence. Huetius relates
of one Hadrianus Parvillerius, that “when he approached the ruins of
Tyre, and beheld the rocks stretched forth to the sea, and the great
stones scattered up and down on the shore, made clean and smooth by the
sun and waves and wind, and useful only for the drying of fishermen’s
nets, many of which happened at that time to be spread thereon, it
brought to his memory the prophecy of Ezekiel concerning Tyre, that such
should be its fate.” Maundrell, who visited the Holy Land, A. D. 1697,
describes it thus: “This city, standing in the sea upon a peninsula,
promises at a distance, something very magnificent; but when you come to
it, you find no similitude of that glory for which it was so renowned in
ancient times, and which the Prophet Ezekiel describes, xxvi, xxvii,
xxviii. On the north side it has an old Turkish ungarrisoned castle;
beside which, you see nothing here but a mere Babel of broken walls,
pillars, vaults, &c; there being not so much as one entire house left!
Its present inhabitants are only a few poor wretches harbouring
themselves in the vaults, and subsisting chiefly by fishing: who seem to
be preserved in this place by Divine Providence, as a visible argument
how God has fulfilled his word concerning Tyre, namely, that it should
be as the top of a rock; a place for fishers to dry their nets upon,
Ezek. xxvi, 14.” Hasselquist, who saw it since, in A. D. 1751, observes
as follows: “None of those cities which were formerly famous are so
totally ruined as Tyre, now called Zur; except Troy. Zur now scarcely
can be called a miserable village, though it was formerly Tyre, the
queen of the sea. Here are about ten inhabitants, Turks and Christians,
who live by fishing.” Bruce, who visited this country about eighty years
after Maundrell, says, that “passing by Tyre from curiosity, I came to
be a mournful witness of the truth of that prophecy, that Tyre, the
queen of nations, should be a rock for fishers to dry their nets on.”
Mr. Buckingham, who visited it in 1816, represents it as containing
about eight hundred substantial stone-built houses, and from five to
eight thousand inhabitants. But Mr. Jowett, on the authority of the
Greek archbishop, reduces this number to less than four thousand;
namely, one thousand two hundred Greek Catholics, one hundred Maronites,
one hundred Greeks, one thousand Montonalis, and one hundred Turks. Mr.
Jowett observed numerous and beautiful columns stretched along the
beach, or standing in fragments half buried in the sand, that has been
accumulating for ages: “the broken aqueduct, and the ruins which appear
in its neighbourhood, exist as an affecting monument of the fragile and
transitory nature of earthly grandeur.” Mr. Joliffe states, that there
now exist scarcely any traces of this once powerful city. “Some
miserable cabins, ranged in irregular lines, dignified with the name of
streets, and a few buildings of a rather better description, occupied by
the officers of government, compose nearly the whole of the town. It
still makes, indeed, some languishing efforts at commerce, and contrives
to export annually to Alexandria cargoes of silk and tobacco; but the
amount merits no consideration. The noble dust of Alexander, traced by
the imagination till found stopping a beer barrel, would scarcely afford
a stronger contrast of grandeur and debasement, than Tyre, at the period
of being besieged by that conqueror, and the modern town of Tsour
erected on its ashes.”
As commercial cities, says Mansford, ancient Alexandria and London may
be considered as approaching the nearest to Tyre. But Alexandria, during
the whole of her prosperous days, was subject to foreign rule; and
London, great as are her commerce and her wealth, and possessing as she
does almost a monopoly of what has in all ages been the most enviable
and most lucrative branch of trade, that with the east, does not centre
in herself, as Tyre did, without a rival and without competition, the
trade of all nations, and hold an absolute monopoly, not of one, but of
every branch of commerce. For the long period of a thousand years, not a
single production of the east passed to the west, or of the west to the
east, but by the merchants of Tyre. Nor for many ages were any ships
found but those of Tyre daring enough to pass the straits of the Red Sea
on one side, or of the Mediterranean on the other. While the vessels of
other countries were groping along their coasts, clinging to their
landmarks, and frightened at a breeze, the ships of Tyre were found from
Spain, if not from Britain, on the west, to the coast of Malabar and
Sofala on the east and south. No wonder that her merchants were princes,
and that they lived in a style of magnificence unknown in any other
country in the same age; or that she should be considered a desirable
prey by the conquerors of the times. But enterprise and wealth did not
alone complete the character of the Tyrians; they had an undoubted claim
to valour of no common order. Their city, which possessed scarcely any
territory beyond their own walls, maintained a siege of thirteen years
(the longest in history except that of Ashdod) against the whole power
of Babylon; and another of seven months against Alexander, whose
successes had afforded no instance of similar delay. And in neither case
had the captors much to boast of, as the Tyrians had shipped off their
most valuable property to Carthage; and in the former particularly, as
has been already related, they so effectually secured or sacrificed the
whole, that the soldiers of Nebuchadnezzar found nothing to reward them
for their length of labour, during which, by excessive toil and heat,
“their heads were made bald, and their very shoulders peeled,” but
vacant streets, and houses already sacked. Carthage, Utica, and Cadiz,
are celebrated monuments of the power of Tyre on the Mediterranean, and
in the west. She extended her navigation even into the ocean, and
carried her commerce beyond England to the north, and the Canaries to
the south. Her connections with the east, though less known, were not
less considerable; the islands of Tyrus and Aradus, (the modern
Barhain,) in the Persian Gulf. The cities of Faran and Phœnicum
Oppidum, on the Red Sea, in ruins even in the time of the Greeks, prove
that the Tyrians had long frequented the coast of Arabia and the Indian
Sea. But, through the vicissitudes of time, Tyre, reduced to a miserable
village, has no other trade than the exportation of a few sacks of corn
and raw cotton, nor any merchant, says Volney, but a single Greek factor
in the service of the French Saide, (Sidon,) who scarcely makes
sufficient profit to maintain his family. In allusion to Tyre in her
better days, Forbes observes, when speaking of Surat, “The bazars,
filled with costly merchandise; picturesque and interesting groups of
natives on elephants, camels, horses, and mules; strangers from all
parts of the globe, in their respective costume; vessels building on the
stocks, others navigating the river; together with Turks, Persians, and
Armenians, on Arabian chargers; European ladies in splendid carriages,
the Asiatic females in hackeries drawn by oxen; and the motley
appearance of the English and nabob’s troops on the fortifications,
remind us of the following description of Tyre, “O thou that art situate
at the entry of the sea, which art a merchant of the people for many
isles,” &c, Ezek. xxvii, 3. This is a true picture of oriental commerce
in ancient times; and a very exact description of the port and the
bazars of Surat, at the present day.”
Dr. Vincent has given the following able illustration of the trade of
Tyre as described in Ezek. xxvii, which must be considered as one of the
most ample and early accounts extant. The learned author has rendered
the Hebrew names into others better known in the geography of more
recent times:--Tyre produced from Hermon, and the mountains near it, fir
for planking; and from Libanus, cedars for masts. From Bashan, east of
the sea of Galilee, oaks for oars. From Greece, or the Grecian isles,
ivory to adorn the benches or the waists of the galleys. From Egypt,
linen, ornamented with different colours, for sails, or flags, or
ensigns. From Peloponnesus, blue and purple cloths for awnings. From
Sidon and Aradus, mariners; but Tyre itself furnished pilots and
commanders. From Gebal, or Biblos, on the coast between Tripolis and
Berytus, caulkers. From Persia and Africa, mercenary troops. From
Aradus, the troops that garrisoned Tyre with the Gamadim. From Tarshish,
or by distant voyages toward the west, and toward the east, great
wealth, iron, tin, lead, and silver. Tin implies Britain or Spain, or at
least a voyage beyond the Straits of Hercules. From Greece, and the
countries bordering on Pontus, slaves, and brass ware. From Armenia,
horses, horsemen, and mules. From the Gulf of Persia, and the isles
within that gulf, horns (tusks) of ivory, and ebony. The export to these
isles was the manufacture of Tyre. From Syria, emeralds, purple,
broidered work, fine linen, coral, and agate. The exports to Syria were
the manufactures of Tyre in great quantities. From Judah and Israel, the
finest wheat, honey, oil, and balsam. From Damascus, wine of Chalybon,
(the country bordering on the modern Aleppo,) and wool in the fleece.
The exports to Damascus were costly and various manufactures. From the
tribe of Dan, situated nearest to the Philistines, the produce of
Arabia, bright or wrought iron, cassia or cinnamon, and the calamus
aramaticus. In conducting the transport of these articles, Dan went to
and fro, that is, formed or conducted the caravans. By one
interpretation, they are said to come from Uzal; and Uzal is said to be
Sana, the capital of Yemen, or Arabia Felix. From the Gulf of Persia,
rich cloth for the decoration of chariots or horsemen. From Arabia
Petræa and Hedjaz, lambs, and rams, and goats. From Sabea and Oman, the
best of spices. From India, gold, and precious stones. From Mesopotamia,
from Carrhæ, and Babylonia, the Assyrians brought all sorts of exquisite
things; that is, fine manufacture, blue cloth, and broidered work, or
fabric of various colours, in chests of cedar bound with cords,
containing rich apparel. If these articles were obtained farther from
the east, may they not be the fabrics of India, first brought to Assyria
by the Gulf of Persia, or by caravans from Karmania and the Indus, and
then conveyed by the Assyrians, in other caravans, to Tyre and Syria? In
this view, the care of package, the chests of cedar, and the cording of
the chests, are all correspondent to the nature of such a transport.
From Tarshish the ships came that rejoiced in the markets of Tyre: they
replenished the city, and made it glorious in the midst of the sea,
Ezek. xxvii, 5–25. Dr. Vincent observes, that from the Tarshish last
mentioned the ships returned to the ports in the Red Sea; as from the
nineteenth to the twenty-fourth verse every particular relates to the
east, while that referred to in the twelfth implies the west--Spain, or
beyond. We have here some light thrown on the obscurity which surrounds
the situation of this distant and unknown place. There is, indeed, a
clear reference to two distinct places, or parts of the world,
denominated Tarshish; perhaps from those very circumstances, their
distance, and the little that was known respecting them. That one was
situated westward, and reached by a passage across the Mediterranean, is
certain from other parts of Scripture; that the other was eastward, or
southward, on the coast of Arabia, India, or Africa, is equally certain.
See TARSHISH, and OPHIR.
UNBELIEF or INFIDELITY is a want of credence in the word of God; or it
may be defined, a calling in question the divine veracity, in what God
hath either testified, promised, or threatened; and thus it is the
opposite of faith, which consists in crediting what God hath said, John
iii, 18, 33. It is said that the Jews could not enter into the promised
land, “because of their unbelief,” Heb. iii, 18, 19. And the Apostle,
teaching the believing Hebrews what instruction they should deduce from
that portion of the history of their forefathers, says, as the words
literally translated would run, “We are evangelized as well as they
were; but the word which they heard did not profit them, not being mixed
with faith in them that heard it,” Heb. iv, 2. The meaning is, We
Christians are favoured with the good news of the heavenly rest, as well
as Israel in the wilderness were with the good news of the earthly rest
in Canaan; but the word which they heard concerning that rest did not
profit them, because they did not believe it. Hence it appears that
faith and unbelief are not confined to the spiritual truths and promises
of the Gospel of Christ, but respect any truth which God may reveal, or
any promise which he may make even concerning temporal things. It is a
crediting or discrediting God in what he says, whatever be the subject.
Christ could not do many mighty works in his own country, because of
their unbelief, Matt. vi, 5, 6; their mean opinion of him, and contempt
of his miracles, rendered them unfit objects to have miracles wrought
upon or among them. The Apostles’ distrust of Christ’s promises, of
enabling them to cast out devils, rendered them incapable of casting one
out, Mark xvii, 16; and St. Peter’s distrust of his Master’s power
occasioned his sinking in the water, Matt. xiv, 30, 31. The unbelief for
which the Jews were broken off from their being a church was their
denial of Christ’s Messiahship, their contempt and refusal of him, and
their violent persecution of his cause and members, Rom. xi, 20.
Adverting to the infidelity which prevailed among the educated class of
Heathens when Christianity first appeared in the world, Dr. Neander
observes:--It was Christianity which first presented religion under the
form of objective truth, as a system of doctrines perfectly independent
of all individual conceptions of man’s imagination, and calculated to
meet the moral and religious wants of man’s nature, and in that nature
every where to find some point on which it might attach itself. The
religions of antiquity, on the contrary, consist of many elements of
various kinds, which, either by the skill of the first promulgator, or,
in the length of years, by the impress of national peculiarities, were
moulded together into one whole. By the transmission of tales, half
mythical, and half historical, by forms and statutes bearing the impress
of religious feelings or ideas, mingled with multifarious poems, which
showed a powerful imaginative spirit, rugged indeed, or, if animated by
the spirit of beauty, at least devoid of that of holiness,--all these
varied materials were interwoven so completely into all the characters,
customs, and relations of social life, that the religious matter could
no longer be separated from the mixed mass, nor be disentangled from the
individual nature of the life and political character of each people
with which it was interwoven. There was no religion generally adapted to
human nature, only religions fitted to each people. The Divinity
appeared here, not as free and elevated above nature; not as that which,
overruling nature, might form and illuminate the nature of man; but was
lowered to the level of nature, and made subservient to it. Through this
principle of deifying the powers of nature, by which every exertion of
bare power, even though immoral, might be received among the objects of
religious veneration, the idea of holiness which beams forth from man’s
conscience must continually have been thrown into the back ground and
overshadowed. The old lawgivers were well aware how closely the
maintenance of an individual state religion depends on the maintenance
of the individual character of the people, and their civil and domestic
virtues. They were well aware that when once this union is dissolved no
power can restore it again. Therefore we find, especially in Rome, where
politics were the ruling passion, a watchfulness after the most
punctilious observance of traditional religious ceremonies, and a
jealous aversion to any innovations in religion. The belief of a divine
origin of all existence is a first principle in man’s nature, and he is
irresistibly impelled to ascend from many to One. This very feeling
showed itself even in the polytheism of national religions, under the
idea of a highest God, or a father of the gods. Among those who gave
themselves up to the consideration of divine things, and to reflection
upon them, this idea of an original unity must have been more clearly
recognized, and must have formed the centre point of all their inward
religious life and thought. The imagination of the people was to be
engaged with the numerous powers and energies flowing forth from that
one highest Being, while to the contemplation of that unity, only a
small number of exalted spirits, the initiated leaders of the multitude,
could elevate themselves. The one God was the God of philosophers alone.
The ruling opinion of all the thinking men of antiquity, from which all
religious legislation proceeded, was, that pure religious truth could
not be proposed to the multitude, but only such a mixture of fiction,
poetry, and truth, as would serve to represent religious notions in such
a manner that they might make an impression on men, whose only guide was
their senses. The principle of a so called _fraus pia_ [pious fraud] was
prevalent in all the legislation of antiquity. But how miserable would
be the case of mankind, if the higher bond, connecting human affairs
with heaven, could only be united by means of lies; if lies were
necessary in order to restrain the greater portion of mankind from evil!
And what could their religion in such a case effect? It could not impart
holy dispositions to the inward heart of man; it could only restrain the
open outbreaking of evil that existed in the heart, by the power of
fear. Falsehood, which cannot be arbitrarily imposed on human nature,
would never have been able to obtain this influence, had not a truth,
which is sure to make itself felt by human nature, been working through
it,--had not the belief in an unseen God, on whom man universally feels
himself dependent, and to whom he feels himself attracted,--had not the
impulse toward an invisible world, which is implanted in the human
heart,--been able to work also through this covering of superstition.
The geographer Strabo thinks that, in the same manner that mythical
tales and fables are needful for children, so also they are necessary
for the uneducated and uninformed, who are in some sort children, and
also for those who are half educated; for even with them reason is not
sufficiently powerful, and they are not able to free themselves from the
habits they have acquired as children. This is, indeed, a sad condition
of humanity, when the seed of holiness, which can develope itself only
in the whole course of a life, cannot be strewn in the heart of the
child, and when mature reason must destroy that which was planted in the
early years of infancy! when holy truth cannot form the foundation of
the future developement of life from the earliest dawn of childish
consciousness! The thinking Roman statesmen also of the time at which
Christianity appeared, as Varro, for instance, distinguish between the
_theologia philosophica_ [philosophical theology] and the _theologia
civilis_, [civil theology,] which contradicts the principles of the
former, as Cotta in Cicero distinguished between the belief of Cotta,
and the belief of the Pontifex. The philosopher required in religion a
persuasion grounded on reasoning; the citizen, the statesman, followed
the tradition of his ancestors without inquiry. Suppose now this
_theologia civilis_, and this _theologia philosophica_ to proceed
together, without a man’s wishing to set the opposition between the two
in a very clear light to himself; that the citizen and the statesman,
the philosopher and the man, could be united in the same individual with
contradictory sentiments, (a division which in the same man is very
unnatural,) and then he would perhaps say, “Philosophical reason
conducts to a different result from that which is established by the
state religion; but the latter has in its favour the good fortune which
the state has enjoyed in the exercise of religion handed down from our
ancestors. Let us follow experience even where we do not thoroughly
understand.” Thus speaks Cotta, and thus also many Romans of education
in his time, either more or less explicitly. Or perhaps we may suppose,
that men openly expressed this contradiction, and did not scruple to
assign the pure truth to the _theologia philosophica_, and to declare
the _theologia civilis_ only a matter of politics. In the east, which is
less subject to commotions, where tranquil habits of life were more
common, and where a mystical spirit of contemplation, accompanying and
spiritualizing the symbolical religion of the people, was more prevalent
than an intellectual cultivation opposed to it, and developing itself
independently, it was possible that this kind of esoteric and exoteric
religion should proceed hand in hand without change for many centuries.
But it was otherwise with the more stirring spirits and habits of the
west. Here this independently proceeding developement of the intellect
must have been at open war with the religion of the people; and as
intellectual culture spread itself more widely, so also must a disbelief
of the popular religion have been more extensively diffused; and, in
consequence of the intercourse between the people and the educated
classes, this disbelief must also have found its way at last among the
people themselves; more especially since, as this perception of the
nothingness of the popular religion spread itself more widely, there
would naturally be many who would not, with the precaution of the men of
old, hide their new illumination from the multitude, but would think
themselves bound to procure for it new adherents, without any regard to
the injury of which they might be laying the foundations, without
inquiring of themselves, whether they had any thing to offer to the
people in the room of that of which they robbed them; in the room of
their then source of tranquillity under the storms of life; instead of
that which taught them moderation under affliction; and, lastly, in the
place of their then counterpoise against the power of wild desires and
passions. Men saw, in the religious systems of different nations which
then came into contact with each other in the enormous empire of Rome,
nothing but utter contradiction and opposition. The philosophical
systems also exhibited nothing but opposition of sentiments, and left
those who could see in the moral consciousness no criterion of truth to
doubt whether there were any such thing or not. In this sense, as
representing the opinions of many eminent and cultivated Romans, with a
sneer at all desire for truth, Pilate made the sarcastic inquiry, “What
is truth?” Many contented themselves with a shallow lifeless deism,
which usually takes its rise where the thirst after a living union with
heaven is wanting; a system which, although it denies not the existence
of a God, yet drives it as far into the back ground as possible; a
listless God! who suffers every thing to take its own course, so that
all belief in any inward connection between this Divinity and man, any
communication of this Divinity to man, would seem to this system fancy
and enthusiasm! The world and human nature remain at least free from
God. This belief in God, if we can call it a belief, remains dead and
fruitless, exercising no influence over the life of man. The belief in
God here produced neither the desire after that ideal perfection of
holiness, the contemplation of which shows at the same time to man the
corruption of his own nature, so opposite to that holiness; nor that
consciousness of guilt by which man, contemplating the holiness of God
within him, feels himself estranged from God; nor does this belief
impart any lively power of sanctification. Man is not struck by the
inquiry, “How shall I, unclean as I am, approach the holy God, and stand
before him, when he judges me according to the holy law which he has
himself engraven on my conscience? What shall I do to become free from
the guilt which oppresses me, and again to attain to communion with
him?” To make inquiries such as these, this spirit of deism considers as
fanaticism; and it casts away from itself all notions of God’s anger,
judgments, or punishments, as representations arising only from the
limited nature of the human understanding. More lively and penetrating
spirits, who felt in the world an infinite Spirit which animated all
things, fell into an error of quite an opposite nature to this deism,
which removed God too far from the world; namely into a pantheism, which
confused God and the world, which was just as little calculated to
bestow tranquillity and consolation. They conceived God only as the
infinite Being elevated above frail man, and not as being connected with
him, attracting him to himself, and lowering himself down to him. It was
only the greatness, not the holiness nor the love, of God which filled
their souls. Yet the history of all ages proves that man cannot for any
length of time disown the desire for religion implanted in his nature.
Whenever man, entirely devoted to the world, has for a long time wholly
overwhelmed the perception of the Divinity which exists in his nature,
and has long entirely estranged himself from divine things, these at
last prevail over humanity with greater force. Man feels that something
is wanting to his heart, which can be replaced to him by nothing else;
he feels a hollowness within him which can never be satisfied by earthly
things, and can find satisfaction and blessing suited to his condition
in the Divinity alone, and an irresistible desire impels him to seek
again his lost connection with Heaven. The times of the dominion of
superstition also, as history teaches us, are always times of earthly
calamity; for the moral corruption which accompanies superstition
necessarily, also, destroys all the foundations of earthly prosperity.
Thus the times in which superstition extended itself among the Romans
were those of the downfall of civil freedom, and of public suffering
under cruel despots. But, however, the consequences of these evils
conducted man, also to their remedy; for by distress from without man is
brought to the consciousness of his own weakness, and his dependence on
a higher than earthly power; and when he is forsaken by human help, he
is compelled to seek it here. Man becomes induced to look upon his
misfortunes as the punishments of a higher Being, and to seek for means
by which he may secure again for himself the favour of that Being. The
need of a connection with Heaven, from which man felt himself estranged,
and dissatisfaction with the cold and joyless present, obtained a more
ready belief for the picture which mythology presented, of a golden age,
when gods and men lived together in intimate union; and warm
imaginations looked back on such a state with longing and desire. This
belief and this desire, it must be owned, were founded on a great truth
which man could rightly apprehend only through Christianity; and this
desire was a kind of intimation which pointed to Christianity. From the
nature of the case, however, it is clear that a fanatical zeal, where
the heat of passion concealed from man the hollowness and falsehood of
his faith, might be created for a religion, to which man only betook
himself as a refuge in his misery, and in his dread of the abyss of
unbelief; a religion which no longer served for the developement of
man’s nature, and into which, nevertheless, he felt himself driven back
from the want of any other; and that men must use every kind of power
and art to uphold that which was in danger of falling from its own
internal weakness, and to defend that which was unable to defend itself
by its own power. Fanaticism was therefore obliged to avail itself of
every kind of power in the struggle with Christianity, in order to
uphold Heathenism, which was fast sinking by its own weakness. Although
the Romans had from the oldest times been noted for their repugnance to
all foreign sorts of religious worship, yet this trait of the old Roman
character had with many altogether disappeared. Because the old national
temples of the Romans had lost their respect, in many dispositions man
was inclined to bring in to their assistance foreign modes of worship.
Those which obtained the readiest admission were such as consisted of
mysterious, symbolical customs, and striking, sounding forms. As is
always the case, men looked for some special and higher power in what is
dark and mysterious. The very simplicity of Christianity became
therefore a ground of hatred to it.
צר, which signifies a rock. The city of Tyre was allotted to the tribe
of Asher, Joshua xix, 29, with the other maritime cities of the same
coast; but it does not appear that the Asherites ever drove out the
Canaanites. Isaiah, xxiii, 12, calls Tyre the daughter of Sidon, that
is, a colony from it. Homer never speaks of Tyre, but only of Sidon.
Josephus says, that Tyre was built not above two hundred and forty years
before the temple of Solomon; which would be in A. M. 2760, two hundred
years after Joshua. Tyre was twofold, insular and continental. Insular
Tyre was certainly the most ancient; for this it was which was noticed
by Joshua: the continental city, however, as being more commodiously
situated, first grew into consideration, and assumed the name of
Palætyrus, or Old Tyre. Want of sufficient attention to this
distinction, has embarrassed both the Tyrian chronology and geography.
Insular Tyre was confined to a small rocky island, eight hundred paces
long, and four hundred broad, and could never exceed two miles in
circumference. But Tyre, on the opposite coast, about half a mile from
the sea, was a city of vast extent, since many centuries after its
demolition by Nebuchadnezzar, the scattered rains measured nineteen
miles round, as we learn from Pliny and Strabo. Of these, the most
curious and surprising are, the cisterns of Roselayne, designed to
supply the city with water; of which there are three still entire; about
one or two furlongs from the sea, so well described by Maundrell, for
their curious construction and solid masonry. Old Tyre withstood the
mighty Assyrian power, having been besieged in vain, by Shalmaneser, for
five years; although he cut off their supplies of water from the
cisterns; which they remedied by digging wells within the city. It
afterward held out thirteen years against Nebuchadnezzar, king of
Babylon, and was at length taken; but not until the Tyrians had removed
their effects to the insular town, and left nothing but the bare walls
to the victor, which he demolished. What completed the destruction of
the city was, that Alexander afterward made use of these materials to
build a prodigious causeway, or isthmus, above half a mile long, to the
insular city, which revived, as the phœnix, from the ashes of the
old, and grew to great power and opulence, as a maritime state; and
which he stormed after a most obstinate siege of five months. Pococke
observes, that “there are no signs of the ancient city; and as it is a
sandy shore, the face of every thing is altered, and the great aqueduct
is in many parts almost buried in the sand.” Thus has been fulfilled the
prophecy of Ezekiel: “Thou shalt be built no more: though thou be sought
for, yet shalt thou never be found again,” Ezek. xxvi, 21. The fate of
insular Tyre has been no less remarkable. When Alexander stormed the
city, he set fire to it. This circumstance was foretold. “Tyre did build
herself a strong hold, and heaped up silver as the dust, and fine gold
as the mire of the streets. Behold, the Lord will cast her out, and he
will smite her power in the sea, and she shall be devoured with fire,”
Zech. ix, 3, 4. After this terrible calamity, Tyre again retrieved her
losses. Only eighteen years after, she had recovered such a share of her
ancient commerce and opulence, as enabled her to stand a siege of
fourteen months against Antigonus, before he could reduce the city; but
after this, Tyre fell alternately under the dominion of the kings of
Syria and Egypt, and then of the Romans, until it was taken by the
Saracens, about A. D. 639, retaken by the Crusaders, A. D. 1124; and at
length sacked and razed by the Mamelukes of Egypt, with Sidon, and other
strong towns, that they might no longer harbour the Christians, A. D.
1289.
The final desolation of Tyre was thus foretold: “I will scrape her dust
from her, and make her like the top of a rock: it shall be a place for
the spreading of nets in the midst of the sea: for I have spoken it,
saith the Lord God.” “I will make thee like the top of a rock: thou
shalt be a place to spread nets upon: thou shalt be built no more; for I
the Lord have spoken it, saith the Lord God.” Nothing can be more
literally and astonishingly executed than this sentence. Huetius relates
of one Hadrianus Parvillerius, that “when he approached the ruins of
Tyre, and beheld the rocks stretched forth to the sea, and the great
stones scattered up and down on the shore, made clean and smooth by the
sun and waves and wind, and useful only for the drying of fishermen’s
nets, many of which happened at that time to be spread thereon, it
brought to his memory the prophecy of Ezekiel concerning Tyre, that such
should be its fate.” Maundrell, who visited the Holy Land, A. D. 1697,
describes it thus: “This city, standing in the sea upon a peninsula,
promises at a distance, something very magnificent; but when you come to
it, you find no similitude of that glory for which it was so renowned in
ancient times, and which the Prophet Ezekiel describes, xxvi, xxvii,
xxviii. On the north side it has an old Turkish ungarrisoned castle;
beside which, you see nothing here but a mere Babel of broken walls,
pillars, vaults, &c; there being not so much as one entire house left!
Its present inhabitants are only a few poor wretches harbouring
themselves in the vaults, and subsisting chiefly by fishing: who seem to
be preserved in this place by Divine Providence, as a visible argument
how God has fulfilled his word concerning Tyre, namely, that it should
be as the top of a rock; a place for fishers to dry their nets upon,
Ezek. xxvi, 14.” Hasselquist, who saw it since, in A. D. 1751, observes
as follows: “None of those cities which were formerly famous are so
totally ruined as Tyre, now called Zur; except Troy. Zur now scarcely
can be called a miserable village, though it was formerly Tyre, the
queen of the sea. Here are about ten inhabitants, Turks and Christians,
who live by fishing.” Bruce, who visited this country about eighty years
after Maundrell, says, that “passing by Tyre from curiosity, I came to
be a mournful witness of the truth of that prophecy, that Tyre, the
queen of nations, should be a rock for fishers to dry their nets on.”
Mr. Buckingham, who visited it in 1816, represents it as containing
about eight hundred substantial stone-built houses, and from five to
eight thousand inhabitants. But Mr. Jowett, on the authority of the
Greek archbishop, reduces this number to less than four thousand;
namely, one thousand two hundred Greek Catholics, one hundred Maronites,
one hundred Greeks, one thousand Montonalis, and one hundred Turks. Mr.
Jowett observed numerous and beautiful columns stretched along the
beach, or standing in fragments half buried in the sand, that has been
accumulating for ages: “the broken aqueduct, and the ruins which appear
in its neighbourhood, exist as an affecting monument of the fragile and
transitory nature of earthly grandeur.” Mr. Joliffe states, that there
now exist scarcely any traces of this once powerful city. “Some
miserable cabins, ranged in irregular lines, dignified with the name of
streets, and a few buildings of a rather better description, occupied by
the officers of government, compose nearly the whole of the town. It
still makes, indeed, some languishing efforts at commerce, and contrives
to export annually to Alexandria cargoes of silk and tobacco; but the
amount merits no consideration. The noble dust of Alexander, traced by
the imagination till found stopping a beer barrel, would scarcely afford
a stronger contrast of grandeur and debasement, than Tyre, at the period
of being besieged by that conqueror, and the modern town of Tsour
erected on its ashes.”
As commercial cities, says Mansford, ancient Alexandria and London may
be considered as approaching the nearest to Tyre. But Alexandria, during
the whole of her prosperous days, was subject to foreign rule; and
London, great as are her commerce and her wealth, and possessing as she
does almost a monopoly of what has in all ages been the most enviable
and most lucrative branch of trade, that with the east, does not centre
in herself, as Tyre did, without a rival and without competition, the
trade of all nations, and hold an absolute monopoly, not of one, but of
every branch of commerce. For the long period of a thousand years, not a
single production of the east passed to the west, or of the west to the
east, but by the merchants of Tyre. Nor for many ages were any ships
found but those of Tyre daring enough to pass the straits of the Red Sea
on one side, or of the Mediterranean on the other. While the vessels of
other countries were groping along their coasts, clinging to their
landmarks, and frightened at a breeze, the ships of Tyre were found from
Spain, if not from Britain, on the west, to the coast of Malabar and
Sofala on the east and south. No wonder that her merchants were princes,
and that they lived in a style of magnificence unknown in any other
country in the same age; or that she should be considered a desirable
prey by the conquerors of the times. But enterprise and wealth did not
alone complete the character of the Tyrians; they had an undoubted claim
to valour of no common order. Their city, which possessed scarcely any
territory beyond their own walls, maintained a siege of thirteen years
(the longest in history except that of Ashdod) against the whole power
of Babylon; and another of seven months against Alexander, whose
successes had afforded no instance of similar delay. And in neither case
had the captors much to boast of, as the Tyrians had shipped off their
most valuable property to Carthage; and in the former particularly, as
has been already related, they so effectually secured or sacrificed the
whole, that the soldiers of Nebuchadnezzar found nothing to reward them
for their length of labour, during which, by excessive toil and heat,
“their heads were made bald, and their very shoulders peeled,” but
vacant streets, and houses already sacked. Carthage, Utica, and Cadiz,
are celebrated monuments of the power of Tyre on the Mediterranean, and
in the west. She extended her navigation even into the ocean, and
carried her commerce beyond England to the north, and the Canaries to
the south. Her connections with the east, though less known, were not
less considerable; the islands of Tyrus and Aradus, (the modern
Barhain,) in the Persian Gulf. The cities of Faran and Phœnicum
Oppidum, on the Red Sea, in ruins even in the time of the Greeks, prove
that the Tyrians had long frequented the coast of Arabia and the Indian
Sea. But, through the vicissitudes of time, Tyre, reduced to a miserable
village, has no other trade than the exportation of a few sacks of corn
and raw cotton, nor any merchant, says Volney, but a single Greek factor
in the service of the French Saide, (Sidon,) who scarcely makes
sufficient profit to maintain his family. In allusion to Tyre in her
better days, Forbes observes, when speaking of Surat, “The bazars,
filled with costly merchandise; picturesque and interesting groups of
natives on elephants, camels, horses, and mules; strangers from all
parts of the globe, in their respective costume; vessels building on the
stocks, others navigating the river; together with Turks, Persians, and
Armenians, on Arabian chargers; European ladies in splendid carriages,
the Asiatic females in hackeries drawn by oxen; and the motley
appearance of the English and nabob’s troops on the fortifications,
remind us of the following description of Tyre, “O thou that art situate
at the entry of the sea, which art a merchant of the people for many
isles,” &c, Ezek. xxvii, 3. This is a true picture of oriental commerce
in ancient times; and a very exact description of the port and the
bazars of Surat, at the present day.”
Dr. Vincent has given the following able illustration of the trade of
Tyre as described in Ezek. xxvii, which must be considered as one of the
most ample and early accounts extant. The learned author has rendered
the Hebrew names into others better known in the geography of more
recent times:--Tyre produced from Hermon, and the mountains near it, fir
for planking; and from Libanus, cedars for masts. From Bashan, east of
the sea of Galilee, oaks for oars. From Greece, or the Grecian isles,
ivory to adorn the benches or the waists of the galleys. From Egypt,
linen, ornamented with different colours, for sails, or flags, or
ensigns. From Peloponnesus, blue and purple cloths for awnings. From
Sidon and Aradus, mariners; but Tyre itself furnished pilots and
commanders. From Gebal, or Biblos, on the coast between Tripolis and
Berytus, caulkers. From Persia and Africa, mercenary troops. From
Aradus, the troops that garrisoned Tyre with the Gamadim. From Tarshish,
or by distant voyages toward the west, and toward the east, great
wealth, iron, tin, lead, and silver. Tin implies Britain or Spain, or at
least a voyage beyond the Straits of Hercules. From Greece, and the
countries bordering on Pontus, slaves, and brass ware. From Armenia,
horses, horsemen, and mules. From the Gulf of Persia, and the isles
within that gulf, horns (tusks) of ivory, and ebony. The export to these
isles was the manufacture of Tyre. From Syria, emeralds, purple,
broidered work, fine linen, coral, and agate. The exports to Syria were
the manufactures of Tyre in great quantities. From Judah and Israel, the
finest wheat, honey, oil, and balsam. From Damascus, wine of Chalybon,
(the country bordering on the modern Aleppo,) and wool in the fleece.
The exports to Damascus were costly and various manufactures. From the
tribe of Dan, situated nearest to the Philistines, the produce of
Arabia, bright or wrought iron, cassia or cinnamon, and the calamus
aramaticus. In conducting the transport of these articles, Dan went to
and fro, that is, formed or conducted the caravans. By one
interpretation, they are said to come from Uzal; and Uzal is said to be
Sana, the capital of Yemen, or Arabia Felix. From the Gulf of Persia,
rich cloth for the decoration of chariots or horsemen. From Arabia
Petræa and Hedjaz, lambs, and rams, and goats. From Sabea and Oman, the
best of spices. From India, gold, and precious stones. From Mesopotamia,
from Carrhæ, and Babylonia, the Assyrians brought all sorts of exquisite
things; that is, fine manufacture, blue cloth, and broidered work, or
fabric of various colours, in chests of cedar bound with cords,
containing rich apparel. If these articles were obtained farther from
the east, may they not be the fabrics of India, first brought to Assyria
by the Gulf of Persia, or by caravans from Karmania and the Indus, and
then conveyed by the Assyrians, in other caravans, to Tyre and Syria? In
this view, the care of package, the chests of cedar, and the cording of
the chests, are all correspondent to the nature of such a transport.
From Tarshish the ships came that rejoiced in the markets of Tyre: they
replenished the city, and made it glorious in the midst of the sea,
Ezek. xxvii, 5–25. Dr. Vincent observes, that from the Tarshish last
mentioned the ships returned to the ports in the Red Sea; as from the
nineteenth to the twenty-fourth verse every particular relates to the
east, while that referred to in the twelfth implies the west--Spain, or
beyond. We have here some light thrown on the obscurity which surrounds
the situation of this distant and unknown place. There is, indeed, a
clear reference to two distinct places, or parts of the world,
denominated Tarshish; perhaps from those very circumstances, their
distance, and the little that was known respecting them. That one was
situated westward, and reached by a passage across the Mediterranean, is
certain from other parts of Scripture; that the other was eastward, or
southward, on the coast of Arabia, India, or Africa, is equally certain.
See TARSHISH, and OPHIR.
UNBELIEF or INFIDELITY is a want of credence in the word of God; or it
may be defined, a calling in question the divine veracity, in what God
hath either testified, promised, or threatened; and thus it is the
opposite of faith, which consists in crediting what God hath said, John
iii, 18, 33. It is said that the Jews could not enter into the promised
land, “because of their unbelief,” Heb. iii, 18, 19. And the Apostle,
teaching the believing Hebrews what instruction they should deduce from
that portion of the history of their forefathers, says, as the words
literally translated would run, “We are evangelized as well as they
were; but the word which they heard did not profit them, not being mixed
with faith in them that heard it,” Heb. iv, 2. The meaning is, We
Christians are favoured with the good news of the heavenly rest, as well
as Israel in the wilderness were with the good news of the earthly rest
in Canaan; but the word which they heard concerning that rest did not
profit them, because they did not believe it. Hence it appears that
faith and unbelief are not confined to the spiritual truths and promises
of the Gospel of Christ, but respect any truth which God may reveal, or
any promise which he may make even concerning temporal things. It is a
crediting or discrediting God in what he says, whatever be the subject.
Christ could not do many mighty works in his own country, because of
their unbelief, Matt. vi, 5, 6; their mean opinion of him, and contempt
of his miracles, rendered them unfit objects to have miracles wrought
upon or among them. The Apostles’ distrust of Christ’s promises, of
enabling them to cast out devils, rendered them incapable of casting one
out, Mark xvii, 16; and St. Peter’s distrust of his Master’s power
occasioned his sinking in the water, Matt. xiv, 30, 31. The unbelief for
which the Jews were broken off from their being a church was their
denial of Christ’s Messiahship, their contempt and refusal of him, and
their violent persecution of his cause and members, Rom. xi, 20.
Adverting to the infidelity which prevailed among the educated class of
Heathens when Christianity first appeared in the world, Dr. Neander
observes:--It was Christianity which first presented religion under the
form of objective truth, as a system of doctrines perfectly independent
of all individual conceptions of man’s imagination, and calculated to
meet the moral and religious wants of man’s nature, and in that nature
every where to find some point on which it might attach itself. The
religions of antiquity, on the contrary, consist of many elements of
various kinds, which, either by the skill of the first promulgator, or,
in the length of years, by the impress of national peculiarities, were
moulded together into one whole. By the transmission of tales, half
mythical, and half historical, by forms and statutes bearing the impress
of religious feelings or ideas, mingled with multifarious poems, which
showed a powerful imaginative spirit, rugged indeed, or, if animated by
the spirit of beauty, at least devoid of that of holiness,--all these
varied materials were interwoven so completely into all the characters,
customs, and relations of social life, that the religious matter could
no longer be separated from the mixed mass, nor be disentangled from the
individual nature of the life and political character of each people
with which it was interwoven. There was no religion generally adapted to
human nature, only religions fitted to each people. The Divinity
appeared here, not as free and elevated above nature; not as that which,
overruling nature, might form and illuminate the nature of man; but was
lowered to the level of nature, and made subservient to it. Through this
principle of deifying the powers of nature, by which every exertion of
bare power, even though immoral, might be received among the objects of
religious veneration, the idea of holiness which beams forth from man’s
conscience must continually have been thrown into the back ground and
overshadowed. The old lawgivers were well aware how closely the
maintenance of an individual state religion depends on the maintenance
of the individual character of the people, and their civil and domestic
virtues. They were well aware that when once this union is dissolved no
power can restore it again. Therefore we find, especially in Rome, where
politics were the ruling passion, a watchfulness after the most
punctilious observance of traditional religious ceremonies, and a
jealous aversion to any innovations in religion. The belief of a divine
origin of all existence is a first principle in man’s nature, and he is
irresistibly impelled to ascend from many to One. This very feeling
showed itself even in the polytheism of national religions, under the
idea of a highest God, or a father of the gods. Among those who gave
themselves up to the consideration of divine things, and to reflection
upon them, this idea of an original unity must have been more clearly
recognized, and must have formed the centre point of all their inward
religious life and thought. The imagination of the people was to be
engaged with the numerous powers and energies flowing forth from that
one highest Being, while to the contemplation of that unity, only a
small number of exalted spirits, the initiated leaders of the multitude,
could elevate themselves. The one God was the God of philosophers alone.
The ruling opinion of all the thinking men of antiquity, from which all
religious legislation proceeded, was, that pure religious truth could
not be proposed to the multitude, but only such a mixture of fiction,
poetry, and truth, as would serve to represent religious notions in such
a manner that they might make an impression on men, whose only guide was
their senses. The principle of a so called _fraus pia_ [pious fraud] was
prevalent in all the legislation of antiquity. But how miserable would
be the case of mankind, if the higher bond, connecting human affairs
with heaven, could only be united by means of lies; if lies were
necessary in order to restrain the greater portion of mankind from evil!
And what could their religion in such a case effect? It could not impart
holy dispositions to the inward heart of man; it could only restrain the
open outbreaking of evil that existed in the heart, by the power of
fear. Falsehood, which cannot be arbitrarily imposed on human nature,
would never have been able to obtain this influence, had not a truth,
which is sure to make itself felt by human nature, been working through
it,--had not the belief in an unseen God, on whom man universally feels
himself dependent, and to whom he feels himself attracted,--had not the
impulse toward an invisible world, which is implanted in the human
heart,--been able to work also through this covering of superstition.
The geographer Strabo thinks that, in the same manner that mythical
tales and fables are needful for children, so also they are necessary
for the uneducated and uninformed, who are in some sort children, and
also for those who are half educated; for even with them reason is not
sufficiently powerful, and they are not able to free themselves from the
habits they have acquired as children. This is, indeed, a sad condition
of humanity, when the seed of holiness, which can develope itself only
in the whole course of a life, cannot be strewn in the heart of the
child, and when mature reason must destroy that which was planted in the
early years of infancy! when holy truth cannot form the foundation of
the future developement of life from the earliest dawn of childish
consciousness! The thinking Roman statesmen also of the time at which
Christianity appeared, as Varro, for instance, distinguish between the
_theologia philosophica_ [philosophical theology] and the _theologia
civilis_, [civil theology,] which contradicts the principles of the
former, as Cotta in Cicero distinguished between the belief of Cotta,
and the belief of the Pontifex. The philosopher required in religion a
persuasion grounded on reasoning; the citizen, the statesman, followed
the tradition of his ancestors without inquiry. Suppose now this
_theologia civilis_, and this _theologia philosophica_ to proceed
together, without a man’s wishing to set the opposition between the two
in a very clear light to himself; that the citizen and the statesman,
the philosopher and the man, could be united in the same individual with
contradictory sentiments, (a division which in the same man is very
unnatural,) and then he would perhaps say, “Philosophical reason
conducts to a different result from that which is established by the
state religion; but the latter has in its favour the good fortune which
the state has enjoyed in the exercise of religion handed down from our
ancestors. Let us follow experience even where we do not thoroughly
understand.” Thus speaks Cotta, and thus also many Romans of education
in his time, either more or less explicitly. Or perhaps we may suppose,
that men openly expressed this contradiction, and did not scruple to
assign the pure truth to the _theologia philosophica_, and to declare
the _theologia civilis_ only a matter of politics. In the east, which is
less subject to commotions, where tranquil habits of life were more
common, and where a mystical spirit of contemplation, accompanying and
spiritualizing the symbolical religion of the people, was more prevalent
than an intellectual cultivation opposed to it, and developing itself
independently, it was possible that this kind of esoteric and exoteric
religion should proceed hand in hand without change for many centuries.
But it was otherwise with the more stirring spirits and habits of the
west. Here this independently proceeding developement of the intellect
must have been at open war with the religion of the people; and as
intellectual culture spread itself more widely, so also must a disbelief
of the popular religion have been more extensively diffused; and, in
consequence of the intercourse between the people and the educated
classes, this disbelief must also have found its way at last among the
people themselves; more especially since, as this perception of the
nothingness of the popular religion spread itself more widely, there
would naturally be many who would not, with the precaution of the men of
old, hide their new illumination from the multitude, but would think
themselves bound to procure for it new adherents, without any regard to
the injury of which they might be laying the foundations, without
inquiring of themselves, whether they had any thing to offer to the
people in the room of that of which they robbed them; in the room of
their then source of tranquillity under the storms of life; instead of
that which taught them moderation under affliction; and, lastly, in the
place of their then counterpoise against the power of wild desires and
passions. Men saw, in the religious systems of different nations which
then came into contact with each other in the enormous empire of Rome,
nothing but utter contradiction and opposition. The philosophical
systems also exhibited nothing but opposition of sentiments, and left
those who could see in the moral consciousness no criterion of truth to
doubt whether there were any such thing or not. In this sense, as
representing the opinions of many eminent and cultivated Romans, with a
sneer at all desire for truth, Pilate made the sarcastic inquiry, “What
is truth?” Many contented themselves with a shallow lifeless deism,
which usually takes its rise where the thirst after a living union with
heaven is wanting; a system which, although it denies not the existence
of a God, yet drives it as far into the back ground as possible; a
listless God! who suffers every thing to take its own course, so that
all belief in any inward connection between this Divinity and man, any
communication of this Divinity to man, would seem to this system fancy
and enthusiasm! The world and human nature remain at least free from
God. This belief in God, if we can call it a belief, remains dead and
fruitless, exercising no influence over the life of man. The belief in
God here produced neither the desire after that ideal perfection of
holiness, the contemplation of which shows at the same time to man the
corruption of his own nature, so opposite to that holiness; nor that
consciousness of guilt by which man, contemplating the holiness of God
within him, feels himself estranged from God; nor does this belief
impart any lively power of sanctification. Man is not struck by the
inquiry, “How shall I, unclean as I am, approach the holy God, and stand
before him, when he judges me according to the holy law which he has
himself engraven on my conscience? What shall I do to become free from
the guilt which oppresses me, and again to attain to communion with
him?” To make inquiries such as these, this spirit of deism considers as
fanaticism; and it casts away from itself all notions of God’s anger,
judgments, or punishments, as representations arising only from the
limited nature of the human understanding. More lively and penetrating
spirits, who felt in the world an infinite Spirit which animated all
things, fell into an error of quite an opposite nature to this deism,
which removed God too far from the world; namely into a pantheism, which
confused God and the world, which was just as little calculated to
bestow tranquillity and consolation. They conceived God only as the
infinite Being elevated above frail man, and not as being connected with
him, attracting him to himself, and lowering himself down to him. It was
only the greatness, not the holiness nor the love, of God which filled
their souls. Yet the history of all ages proves that man cannot for any
length of time disown the desire for religion implanted in his nature.
Whenever man, entirely devoted to the world, has for a long time wholly
overwhelmed the perception of the Divinity which exists in his nature,
and has long entirely estranged himself from divine things, these at
last prevail over humanity with greater force. Man feels that something
is wanting to his heart, which can be replaced to him by nothing else;
he feels a hollowness within him which can never be satisfied by earthly
things, and can find satisfaction and blessing suited to his condition
in the Divinity alone, and an irresistible desire impels him to seek
again his lost connection with Heaven. The times of the dominion of
superstition also, as history teaches us, are always times of earthly
calamity; for the moral corruption which accompanies superstition
necessarily, also, destroys all the foundations of earthly prosperity.
Thus the times in which superstition extended itself among the Romans
were those of the downfall of civil freedom, and of public suffering
under cruel despots. But, however, the consequences of these evils
conducted man, also to their remedy; for by distress from without man is
brought to the consciousness of his own weakness, and his dependence on
a higher than earthly power; and when he is forsaken by human help, he
is compelled to seek it here. Man becomes induced to look upon his
misfortunes as the punishments of a higher Being, and to seek for means
by which he may secure again for himself the favour of that Being. The
need of a connection with Heaven, from which man felt himself estranged,
and dissatisfaction with the cold and joyless present, obtained a more
ready belief for the picture which mythology presented, of a golden age,
when gods and men lived together in intimate union; and warm
imaginations looked back on such a state with longing and desire. This
belief and this desire, it must be owned, were founded on a great truth
which man could rightly apprehend only through Christianity; and this
desire was a kind of intimation which pointed to Christianity. From the
nature of the case, however, it is clear that a fanatical zeal, where
the heat of passion concealed from man the hollowness and falsehood of
his faith, might be created for a religion, to which man only betook
himself as a refuge in his misery, and in his dread of the abyss of
unbelief; a religion which no longer served for the developement of
man’s nature, and into which, nevertheless, he felt himself driven back
from the want of any other; and that men must use every kind of power
and art to uphold that which was in danger of falling from its own
internal weakness, and to defend that which was unable to defend itself
by its own power. Fanaticism was therefore obliged to avail itself of
every kind of power in the struggle with Christianity, in order to
uphold Heathenism, which was fast sinking by its own weakness. Although
the Romans had from the oldest times been noted for their repugnance to
all foreign sorts of religious worship, yet this trait of the old Roman
character had with many altogether disappeared. Because the old national
temples of the Romans had lost their respect, in many dispositions man
was inclined to bring in to their assistance foreign modes of worship.
Those which obtained the readiest admission were such as consisted of
mysterious, symbolical customs, and striking, sounding forms. As is
always the case, men looked for some special and higher power in what is
dark and mysterious. The very simplicity of Christianity became
therefore a ground of hatred to it.