VIEWS AND EXPERIENCE IN RELATION
By F. G. Brown
To Entire Consecration and the
Second Advent. Addressed to the Ministers of the Portsmouth,
N. H., Baptist Association. DEARLY BELOVED BRETHREN: It is not in my power to visit you personally, as it would give me great pleasure to do: nor am I able to write you individually; you will therefore accept of this narrative, as especially prepared for yourselves. I feel a great satisfaction in making this narration to you, brethren, because I have so long enjoyed your confidence and your love. You know me, and I believe still, as ever, you will candidly consider what I will now lay before you. At our Quarterly Ministerial Conferences, it has been one of our usual exercises to communicate to each other God's dealings with us since we parted: and now, brethren, as I do not expect to be present at your next session, let this speak in my behalf. I make this narration from no other motive, than that the grace of God may be magnified, and the power of his Spirit be demonstrated. Let me premise that you are yourselves, brethren, enjoying much of God's presence, that prayer is your delight, and communion with God more to you than your daily food; that you know of the truths of our holy religion which you preach, by a powerful experience. And again, let me believe that you will not hastily reject what I declare that God has done for my soul, merely because you may never have seen and felt the same. I only ask that you will impartially and prayerfully ponder upon these things, and endeavor to ascertain whether the hand of the Lord be in them. Let me not believe that you will limit the Almighty, or that you will set up yourselves as judges of what it might be wisdom in him to perform. On the assumption that we are all living in the very last days, that which I have of late experienced is very easily accounted for. I shall lay my whole heart open to you, brethren, feeling confident, that, however unintelligible, and even silly, the exposure might be to some, you will commend me, at least, for my honesty, and be disposed to put the most favorable construction upon what I may say. The month of August last will mark more particularly the period in which my mind seems to have been conscious of any peculiarity of exercises. Ever since I commenced my pastoral labors I have been aware that something was wanting to stimulate christians to a life of constant faith and prayer, and to give to the great machinery by which light and salvation are propelled throughout the earth an increase of power. But it was at this time that I began to look about, and to realize, as never before, the apathy of the church in regard to evangelizing the world, &c. My soul fervently responded to the call made for a convention at Worcester, for the purpose of deliberation and prayer in regard to the neglected cause of missions; but circumstances prevented my attendance on that occasion. At our Association, which occurred shortly after, I felt called upon, with others, to entreat the churches to pity, and to send relief to the poor heathen; and expressed my heart-felt regret that I had not obeyed what once appeared to be my duty, and become myself a missionary. From all that I noticed, it seemed to me as though the whole American church were in a profound slumber on this subject; and I naturally inferred that vital piety must be at a corresponding ebb. From looking abroad, I came nearer home, and compared my own church with what I understood to be the condition of the churches of our own Association, relative to missions, and to the private duties of the christian; and I found that my own people were in the advance of most other churches, as to all that gives dignity, beauty and life to the christian character. But still I saw a great lack among many of them. From my own dear church I turned to myself, and found that my own piety would probably suffer in comparison with that of some of my own flock. I began to review my past life, and especially the few years of my ministry. This review awakened within me humility and pain. I knew that I could not be condemned for the want of severe intellectual labor, preparatory to the weekly performances of the pulpit—for it had always been my rule not to fail here, though I might as a pastor; but I could detect some unhallowed motives which had too long prompted my ministerial labors; a lack of confidence in God to own and bless the word preached,—of faith in prayer—of nearness to God—of bold and soul-moving conceptions of God, of Christ, and of the Holy Spirit. I had always, from the time of my conversion, which was at the age of fourteen years, frequented the closet daily, and had enjoyed a measure of religion. But it was not until I entered the ministry, that I knew what it was to suppress youthful effervescence of feeling, and to govern self with the sternness of manhood; it was not until the holiness of my calling began to meet me, that I really began to walk with God. I now see by casting my eye over the MSS. of the sermons which I have preached since Sept. 1st, how my hungerings after the living God have been steadily increasing; and also the steps which I unconsciously took to bring me out where I found myself at the opening of this memorable year. I had tried to implore God to arouse the slumberings of the churches to an increase of zeal, of sacrifice, and of prayer in behalf of a perishing world; that he would in mercy revive religion in the midst of my own dear people, where it had so long languished, but especially that my own soul might experience more of the power of religion. We had not enjoyed a season of refreshing from on high for a long time, and I had begun to feel that God had nothing more for me to do where I was then located. After having labored on until I felt that I had exhausted all the means in my power towards effecting a change for the better, or in bringing about the conversion of souls, I began to cry to God to send some servant of his to my relief. I felt willing to stand aside to any one whom Providence should select for this work. In desiring a revival of religion, my own soul was hoping to share in its precious fruits. I had been accustomed for a few years past, to spend a portion of my time daily in reading memoirs of pious individuals, and other religious books such as would have a tendency to feed the flame of piety in my soul; but I never dreamed that it was in my power to attain to eminence in piety; supposing either that I had not begun early enough in life, or that there was some moral constitutional defect about me which would render it impossible. Often have I read of the holy ecstasies, and the triumphant faith, and the heavenly devotion of Payson, and Taylor, and Edwards, and many others, and thought that they were religious prodigies; and of course few could hope to be like them. I had heard of some around me who had had the power of God upon them to such a degree, as to lose their natural strength; but I had always doubted and strenuously opposed such things as realities. I ever deprecated all excitements, and preferred a religion that would give exercise and expansion to the reason and to the imagination. And yet whenever, which indeed was very seldom, I found myself in a meeting where much religious fervor was exhibited, my own soul would awaken and kindle up with holy fire. On the fourth of January last, a ministering brother having come to my aid, a series of religious meetings was begun in the vestry of our church. No extra preparations or parade were made on this occasion; it had not even been announced that a protracted meeting was contemplated. As the coming of our brother among us was remarkably providential, I was watching for further indications of our Father's will as to the measures which should be used towards the revival of his work. On the following evening, the theme of our brother's discourse was prayer. During the sermon, I noticed no special interest among the people, nor did I feel any very strong emotions of soul myself, as a result of the discourse. Still I felt that the subject chosen was well timed, and at its conclusion knelt, earnestly desiring to lift unto God the effectual, fervent prayer which availeth much. No sooner had I bent my knee before God, than my soul was at once drawn out in inexpressible agony for the outpouring of the Spirit, and that God would come down among us in great majesty. Immediately I was conscious of feelings which I cannot better describe, than by likening them to the effect of electricity, passing through my whole physical66system: the veil which had separated me from my God was now entirely torn away, my heart flowed out like water to Him in whose immediate presence, as never before, I now seemed to be. Having risen from my knees, I found the audience all bathed in tears, and a most awful solemnity prevailing the house. I began to speak; first, inquiring who had been praying for me; and next, declaring, with great emphasis that now God was going to bless us, and that my soul was evidence to it. I then proceeded to remark that it appeared to me as though our prayers had all been poor, murmuring, repining, fretting prayers—that we had not taken God at his word, and believed him to be liberally disposed unto his children—we had not presumed upon his generosity and asked him to do great things for us. I expressed my views in regard to myself thus:—That it appeared as if I had never prayed as I ought; that I had been in Jeremiah's dungeon all my life; that I had not had a place where to stand large enough for the sole of my foot; that I had just emerged from a dreary wilderness, into a vast and boundless field where all was beauty, and loveliness, and glory. Such peace, joy and confidence now took possession of my soul as I cannot describe. Having resumed my seat, and finding myself variously affected with involuntary emotions of joy and of grief, and being still sensible of this holy celestial influence to such an extent, that every limb and joint in my body trembled, I became alarmed, and inquired of my ministering brother, who was sitting at my side, if he could tell me what it was that was then on me; or if he had ever seen an individual affected in like manner. As the time drew near for the conclusion of the meeting, I felt loth to leave the desk, and to mingle with the brethren, apprehensive that what I had been enjoying might be a delusion, and even though it were, I desired never to lose it. But what was my surprise, as I left my seat, to find that still my soul was filled with inexpressible pleasure, and for the first time in my life I cried out, "glory! glory!" and immediately I sank down, unable to stand upon my feet. I was sensible that I had never prayed for such heavenly manifestations as these, and on inquiry, soon ascertained to whose prayers I was probably indebted for what I was then enjoying. Again I felt a reluctance to leave the precious place of our worship, and then to enter the door of my residence, lest all these glorious emotions, and indescribable views of heaven, should vanish. Having arrived home, I gave myself up for a few hours to earnest and agonizing prayer, and to exalted praise and thanksgiving to God. My soul was filled with deepest agony for all who were preaching lies and false doctrine, and with faith and confidence in God, that he would hear my supplications, and now begin a mighty work of grace in our midst. Such peace and glory as I now felt for eight and forty hours, human language cannot portray: heaven had come down to earth, and I had such bliss and transports, as I had never expected to realize even in the world of glory! I wanted an angel's powers, and an angel's trumpet, to make known all and to all just what my soul felt and beheld. I retired to rest on that night, and awoke in the enjoyment of the same celestial peace, and spent the day in weeping and rejoicing before God, in view of what he had done for so unworthy a creature of the dust as myself, and in exchanging sympathies and congratulations with christian friends who called to see me. It was intimated by one dear sister, who called at this time, that I had experienced the blessing of sanctification: the suggestion startled me for a moment, and made me shudder, supposing that she meant to intimate that I was now perfect. I replied by remarking that I hardly knew what name to give to what I had experienced; but should I select terms that would seem to me to imply just and only just that of which I was then conscious, they would be these:—the baptism of the Holy Ghost—entire consecration—perfect love. These had always before been very odious terms to my ear; odious, only because they were used by a party or sect of christians whom I regarded as exceedingly superstitious and fanatical. But I now felt that it was due to my God, and to the sovereign power of his grace, to own that he had baptized me with the Holy Ghost. I now felt the purest and strongest affection for all who were truly christians, irrespective of names or of denomination. My sectarian feelings had all fled like dew before the sun, and I wanted to mingle at once with God's dear children, however poor or despised they might be, to unite my prayers and songs with theirs, and to tell them what wonderful things God had done for my soul. I saw that I had made no idol of my denomination, and had been too distrustful of the piety of other sects, and too jealous of their prosperity. My books and authors, that had yielded so much intellectual delight, were now to me as chaff: they appeared as if sealed up, never again to be opened; everything earthly which I had fondly called mine, had fled away, and appeared to me, as at this moment, of no more value than a bubble. A desire for distinction, the love of reputation, of honor, pride, were all gone, and I felt as though I loved God supremely, and that I could now not only reckon, but feel that I was dead indeed unto the world, and alive unto God. I preferred to be taken out of the world; yes, to suffer ten thousand deaths, rather than to fall back and live where I had been living for the past years of my life. O, what a sense of condemnation and guilt! how terrible God! how hard to bear Christ's yoke! how anxious and distressed about the church, about poor godless men, and about numberless earthly things—all of which should have been left entirely with God! How many times I have looked forward with joyful anticipations to death which would end all this strife. I supposed that in these things, however, was the conflict of the christian, and he must submit to them as a part of his warfare. But of no grace was I now more conscious, than that of humility. I felt like a young convict, child-like, weak, ignorant, and willing to be taught by any one who could tell me more about what I had experienced, and who would take me by the hand, and lead me into all truth. I could see that God had opened my eyes wonderfully, but still I felt as though there was much more for me to learn—that there was some truth undiscovered, and into the knowledge of which the Holy Spirit was designing to lead me. These convictions I expressed to a ministering brother, who called to visit me on the day succeeding the one on which I had been so greatly blest; and O, how my soul yearned for some kind hand to lead me! I was inclined to suppose that I did not have a clear and full knowledge of the doctrine of holiness, and that it was some unpenetrated part of this grand Scripture truth into which I was yet to be introduced. I now received without a sneer, or any feelings of contempt, the Guide to Christian Perfection. I devoured with avidity perhaps twenty numbers of this precious little work, and was highly gratified to find that there were so many christians, of all denominations, who had had an experience precisely like my own; and, moreover, how greatly was my joy increased, to find that I could read my experience in the book of Acts—that God had given me the experience of the primitive christians, so that I could now know what they meant by "joy unspeakable and full of glory!" There was, I could discover, however, a lack of faith in my experience, of which others, who had been blest like myself, seemed to be better acquainted than I was. I wanted that faith, so as to grasp all God's promises as mine—so as to cry continually, Abba, Father! and so as to make Jesus my Saviour. With particular reference to this end, I searched the Bible, in order to gain still clearer and more correct views of God, of Christ, and of the Spirit. Soon I began to behold God as a being full of love, and who could have nothing but love for those who walked uprightly. I beheld Christ as my Saviour, who died for me as though I had been the only sinner in the universe; as my Priest, who had passed within the veil to make atonement for my sins; as my Mediator, who stood between me and the flaming sword of justice, and thus shielded me from destruction. I saw him as my elder brother; I looked at all the terms which were expressive of his endearment for his disciples; I contemplated him, on earth never turning away any suppliant for temporal or spiritual favors, and even suffering a beloved disciple to indulge in the familiarity of reclining on its bosom; and I reasoned thus: he is the very same Jesus now; he is the Saviour of all, especially of them that believe; why should he not love me, and do for me far above all that I can ask, or even think, if I will but yield to him, and fully believe in him? I labored to bring him near to me, and to conceive of him just as he was when he left earth for heaven. It was not long ere I could feel that he had made me truly one of his; he was present with me in my place of meditation and prayer; and again I was humbled in the dust at his feet, and could cry out—"My Lord, and my God!" I could now live by faith, day by day, on the love of God, without one care or solicitude for the morrow; the Bible became my only book of study, the Spirit of truth my only expositor. Indeed, I had a new Bible, a new Saviour, and a new heart; and what was remarkable, I could now preach, for the first time in my life, without the aid of written sermons. My investigations went on in regard to sanctification; I searched the Bible with reference to it; and then read Fletcher, Bramwell, Wesley and others on the subject, until I was well satisfied, that, speculate as we might, and dispute about terms as we would, the doctrine of holiness was a most prominent doctrine of the Bible, and that it was the duty and the privilege of christians to arrive at a state, to say the least, of conscious purity; to be where our hearts condemn us not; that we might have confidence toward God. I do not use the term perfection; not because I have myself much difficulty with that expression, but because it is liable to be misunderstood. Entire consecration is less objectionable. My experience on this subject is now better to me than all my theorizing ever was. Six months ago, an angel might have reasoned with me, and I should have almost doubted whether christians, at the present day, could enjoy such influences, experience such overwhelming emotions of soul, have such bright and glorious views of truth, and be so sanctified unto God. What I have experienced, brethren, is only what others have, and are experiencing all over the land. Converts, and christians who have long been on their way to the heavenly Canaan, have alike been filled with the great power of God, as on the day of Pentecost. After having obtained such new light on the Scriptures, and enjoyed such remarkable manifestations of the Spirit of God, I felt most deeply for you, my beloved brethren, and for all the members of Christ, that all who were called to minister at the altar might have the same power of God resting down upon them, so that their own souls might be refreshed, and that they might perform the duties of their office with more ease and delight. I beheld them toiling and weeping over the souls that were committed to their charge, and I longed to tell them how they might cast all upon God and get such an anointing from on high as would give effect to all their ministrations. It appeared to me, that the great majority of them were in gross darkness. I wrestled and agonized in prayer for them; and O, how distressed was my soul for an inactive and slumbering church! I can now see that my distress was caused by something beside the discovery of the fact, that the doctrine of holiness had not a strong hold on the hearts of ministers and people. So important did the doctrine of sanctification appear to me, and I could see so vividly, as I thought, its connection with the conversion of the world, that I felt it might soon be my duty to go forth and make that the great theme of my preaching to the churches, or to devote the remnant of my life to the work of an evangelist, endeavoring to labor for Christ on a more extensive scale than ever. For it seemed to me that all my sympathies, and prayers, and toils, had been criminally restricted. As I had no tie to earth, and love for distinction had gone, I found that I had no sacrifice to make, but that toil, privation and suffering would be a pleasure, for Christ's sake. I was willing to be accounted a fool for my Master, and to bear with patience any reproach or persecution in defence of the gospel. I had always before thought much of preserving my good name, and enjoying67the commendations of the community for my urbanity, frankness and inoffensiveness; and I here confess that the greatest injury that an individual could once have done me, would have been to speak ill of me. But now, blessed be God, while conscious of serving him who has redeemed me with his most precious blood, I care but little whether I have the approbation or disapprobation of the world. I am now kept in perfect peace, while my whole soul is stayed on God. I sometimes feel as though I could stand unmoved amidst the wreck of matter and the crush of worlds; such confidence has my soul in the omnipotent arm of my Father and my God. Dear brethren, hurt not the oil and the wine; do not be guilty of attributing to the influence of the imagination, to the excitement of the animal passions, or to the agency of Beelzebub, that which should be devoutly and adoringly attributed to the power of the Holy Ghost; bearing in mind that "the kingdom of God is not in word, but in power." If you reject these things, when they are confirmed by so many witnesses, with equal propriety might you discard the proofs of ordinary conversion. If you smile at such experiences, as I hope you will not, fear lest the ungodly ridicule as superstition and enthusiasm all that the young convert professes to experience, and thus the reality of our religion be questioned. If you will turn over the pages of the New Testament, you will find just such exhibitions of God's power there. And you will recollect, that those extraordinary manifestations of the Holy Spirit have often been made by us subjects of discourse. Let not then the natural reverence which we all have for antiquity, and the charm with which we invest everything that was peculiar to the first age of the church, lead us to extol and admire everything that existed in apostolic times, while we be guilty of rejecting the very same phenomena because we witness it with our own eyes, in these last days. Many can eulogize the carpenter's son as a more profound teacher of wisdom than ever Socrates was: applaud the eloquence of the fishermen, and throw all the enchantments of romance around the babe in the manger; who, nevertheless, it is to be feared, would spurn to receive instructions from any man, however he might be filled with the Holy Ghost, unless he had been initiated into all the mysteries of science, had explored all the metaphysics of theology; and who, so far from condescending to make a stable their place of worship, would feel as though the Almighty was insulted, or could not be devoutly worshiped, unless in a granite or marble temple. But I wander from my subject; brethren, say not, "These men are filled with new wine." [Translated from Victor Hugo's last work, "Les Contemplations."] Darkness around me fell, and far before,
Stretched the abyss which hath no end nor shore,
Gloomy, immense, and without life or sound;
My soul seemed lost in the vast depths profound,
Through the dark veil impenetrable, far,
I saw the Eternal as a burning star.
Then cried I, "O my soul! alas, my soul!
To cross this gulf, to reach this night that goal,
A bridge on millions arches thou must rear!
What mortal hath the power? Not one." Grief, fear,
And horror seized me. Then before me there,
A phantom stood, as angel pure and fair,
In form it seemed a tear, but as I gazed,
It grew in beauty, and I saw amazed
An infant's hands and lovely virgin face,
Seeming a lily whose own spotless grace
Defends from harm. From its joined hands shone light,
It pointed to the abyss of fearful night—
The gulf whose sullen depths e'en echo stilled—
And said—"The bridge thou needest I will build."
Toward the form I turned with doubting air;
"What is thy name?" I asked. It answered, "Prayer!" (Continued.)
"Depart ye cursed into everlasting fire prepared for the Devil and his angels." Matt. xxv, 41. The word everlasting applied to the fire alluded to, if taken in its unlimited sense, according to remarks already made, will not prove the endless continuance of misery, but the contrary. This fire, said to be prepared for the Devil and his angels, is plainly what is referred to, when the following inquiry was put to our Saviour: "Art thou come to destroy us before the time?" It was, therefore, not prepared to render them indestructible, but to destroy them. And the dreadful prospect made them tremble, sturdy and hardened as they were. Besides, Christ came expressly to "destroy him that had the power of death, that is the Devil." Heb. ii, 14. The word destroy, in this passage, is translated from a Greek verb, which signifies to abolish or annihilate. The Devil, therefore, and his angels will be destroyed by the fire which is prepared for them—yea, abolished or annihilated. And, of course, the sinners of mankind who are placed on the left hand of the Judge being cast into the same fire will share the same fate. There is not even an intimation of endless misery here. The universe is eventually to be rid of the devils and all their adherents by means of an utter extermination. Not only their works, but themselves, are to be destroyed, and that perpetually.
"And these shall go away into everlasting punishment; but the righteous into life eternal." Matt. xxv, 46. It is conceded that everlasting and eternal are translated from the same word in the original Greek. But, if it were necessary, it might be here shown that this term has a qualified or restricted meaning when applied to future punishment, although it be taken without such limitation as applied to the life of the righteous. For it surely has a limited as well as an unlimited meaning. It is even used in these different senses in the same text, as where it is said, "The everlasting mountains were scattered, the perpetual hills did bow; his ways are everlasting." The punishment of the wicked, so far as positive misery is respected, must, of necessity, be limited, for reasons already given. A consumable object, if the consuming cause continues, cannot always be consuming. It would imply a contradiction.
But we are under no necessity in this case of resorting to the different senses in which this term is used. The unlimited sense of it may be freely admitted, without implying the endlessness of misery. For punishment is not necessarily positive, and that only, and hence it may be strictly everlasting—absolutely without end, and yet not imply endless misery. It may terminate as to positive misery, and be succeeded by a perpetual death. It must be obvious to every reflecting mind that punishment may be positive or negative, or both. In this case it will be partly positive, and partly negative—positive as to future deserved pains, and negative as to the subsequent loss of life and being from which they will never recover. The second death, as above explained, is properly termed an everlasting punishment. Hence, the apostle Paul has given us an inspired comment on this tremendous passage in the following words: "Who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of his power." 2 Thess. i, 9. Observe, it is not everlasting indestructibility which is threatened, but everlasting destruction. We may therefore say, without hesitation, that the aforesaid concluding remark in the Saviour's description of the final judgment, fails to teach the doctrine of endless misery.
"And some to shame and everlasting contempt." Dan. xii, 2. These results are truly predicated of the resurrection of the wicked without implying that they will suffer unceasing misery. To shame they will obviously rise, and this will unquestionably be attended with pain; but it is not qualified with everlasting pain. And the everlasting contempt which they will inherit is on the part of the righteous, and hence does not imply endless misery. The righteous will indeed hold them in utter abhorrence. While under the full dominion of the second death, they will be remembered with just indignation and holy displeasure. Give, therefore, the word everlasting its full scope, and it proves nothing for the theory of endless misery.
"Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?" Isa. xxxiii, 14. This passage plainly imports that none shall be able to do it. "Can thine heart endure, or can thine hands be strong in the day that I shall deal with thee?" Thus God inquires. But the popular theory maintains that all the wicked can endure—that they will be rendered able to withstand the violence of the fiercest flames, and endure infinite wrath. Which theory is the most worthy of credit?
"And again they said, Alleluia. And her smoke rose up for ever and ever." Rev. xix, 3. This is a description of the fearful destiny of the great whore—the corrupt, anti-Christian church. But the smoke here referred to, is the smoke of the fire which is to consume her. This, therefore, proves at most merely the perpetuity of the fire which will envelope her. And surely if it be strictly for ever and ever, it will eventually burn her up, so as to leave neither root nor branch. It is not necessary to limit the fire here, to avoid the inference of never-ending misery, though this might be done, in accordance with the obvious use of this phraseology in several other places.
"And the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever." Rev. xiv, 11. This is affirmed of such as worship the beast, or mystical Babylon.
But the smoke of their torment manifestly means no more than the smoke of the fire which produces their torment. For torment surely has no smoke. But the smoke is a known property, or an accompaniment of fire. The ascending, therefore, of the smoke in the manner described, pertains only to the fire, which, though it should be unending, will not prove endless misery, but the reverse.
"And the Devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night for ever and ever." Rev. xx, 10. This is the first passage which we have as yet found which requires a limited construction of the phrase, "for ever and ever;" and it is the only one which requires it in all the Bible. In every other instance, where future punishment is the subject, it may be taken in its primary and fullest sense without implying the doctrine of endless misery. But in this instance, it is conceded that it must be taken in a limited sense, if the doctrine of destruction, as before stated, be true. This is the most intense form of the Greek word, "aioon." But it may be easily shown that aioon and aioonios, translated ever and eternal, or everlasting, are frequently used in a limited sense. The covenant of circumcision is denominated "an everlasting covenant," and the Aaronic priesthood "an everlasting priesthood;" but their duration is obviously limited. We read also of "the old way," and "of the ancient landmarks," where the Hebrew word for old, and ancient, is olam, answerable to the Greek word aioonios, which is translated everlasting and eternal. It is moreover conceded by the most learned critics, that the words for ever, everlasting and eternal, are often used to denote a long, indefinite and unknown period than absolute eternity. And even the double and most intense form of aioon, viz., "for ever and ever," is evidently used sometimes to denote a limited period, and hence I infer that it may be so used in the passage last quoted. There are several weighty considerations in favor of adopting the limited construction here.
1. In two instances besides this text it is manifest that this phraseology is used in a limited sense, i. e., to describe a limited period and nothing more. The first pertains to the desolation of the land of Idumea, and reads thus, "The smoke thereof shall go up for ever—none shall pass through it for ever and ever." "For ever and ever," here cannot mean an unlimited period, because the next chapter predicts a restoration of the same country to prosperity and fruitfulness under the reign of the Messiah. And eventually the first heaven and earth are to pass away, and a new heaven and a new earth succeed, wherein dwelleth righteousness.
The second passage teaches what would have been the duration of Israel's prosperity, if they had been obedient. "Then I will cause you to dwell in this place, in the land that I gave to your fathers, for ever and ever." Jer. vii, 7. In this case, also, the phrase, for ever and ever, means, at most, no longer than the end of the world; for the earth is to be burnt up and pass away. The possession of the land of Canaan was, at best, but a temporary portion.
If, therefore, the phrase in question describes, in these cases, merely a limited duration, it may describe no other in Rev. xx, 10.
2. The Greek of this phrase in the above passage is eis tous aioonas toon aioonoon, which literally means, "for or into the ages of the ages." Hence, aioon, from which this plural and double form is derived, does not necessarily mean endless duration; otherwise, it would not need to be expressed in the plural, and then doubled. The term aioon, is, in fact, used with great latitude in the Greek language, as the word for ever is in the English. There are three senses given to it by the learned, yes, three by the translators of the Bible, viz., eternity, the world and an age. And it is several times represented as having an end, and as being succeeded by another aioon.
"So shall it be in the end of this world." Matt. xiii, 40. Here world is translated from the Greek word aioon, which, of course, describes a limited period. If it be insisted that it always means eternity strictly, it would make the Saviour say, in the68end of this eternity. Again, "The children of this world marry, and are given in marriage, but they which shall be accounted worthy to obtain that world," &c. Luke xx, 34, 35. World in both these instances is translated from the Greek word aioon. If, therefore, we affix the meaning of eternity exclusively to it, we shall have this eternity and that eternity, i. e., two eternities, the one succeeding the other. It is clear, therefore, that it is not used here to describe endless duration; but denotes simply world or age. The unlearned reader may be startled at these statements, but they are undeniably true, and show conclusively that aioon is used to describe a limited, as well as an unlimited duration. And if it may mean a limited duration, its multiplication, and even remodification may mean nothing more than a very long and unknown limited period, especially when the nature of the subject does, of necessity, limit it.
If it be objected that this interpretation of the matter militates against the unending happiness of the righteous—yes, against the unending existence of Jehovah, I answer that it does not; for in those cases, there is nothing to limit aioon either in its double or single form, as in the case of future punishment. Hence it is to be taken in its primary and unrestricted sense. Moreover, the proof of the endless happiness of the righteous does not depend on the import of eternal, for ever and ever, but is described by other terms which definitely and unequivocally denote endless duration. Even the very word endless, or indissoluble, is applied to their future life. But this is never applied to the misery of the wicked. And the unending existence of God is determined by his nature and perfections. From the necessity of his being, he is strictly "from everlasting to everlasting." So that when the phraseology in question is applied to him it must have its primary import.
3. There is a limiting clause in this passage, viz., "day and night." The duration hereby described pertains to time, for eventually day and night will have an end. Therefore, the duration of the torment spoken of is not necessarily endless.
4. The failure of the proof of unending misery, which we have found to pertain to the all other passages that have been cited, together with the multiplied evidence which has been adduced, and will hereafter be adduced, that the fire of hell will consume the damned and terminate their existence, forbids us to take the phraseology in this case in the sense of endless duration. The threatening to destroy or abolish the Devil, in particular, forbids that we should here understand for ever and ever to mean duration without end. The punishment of the Devil is described by a word in Greek (katargeoo) which signifies to abolish or annihilate. This is the definite, classic import of the term. This same word is also applied to the destruction of the man of sin. "Whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy (gr. katargeesei, from katargeoo.) with the brightness of his coming." 1 Thess. ii, 8. If, therefore, the Devil and the man of sin (with whom the whole mass of fallen angels and wicked men must evidently be connected) are to be abolished or annihilated, for ever and ever, or the ages of the ages, here mentioned, cannot mean ceaseless duration. In that case the two representations would palpably conflict. The unlimited sense of the phrase which is here found would also contradict a multitude of other express passages, as we have already seen, and shall hereafter more fully see. And hence it cannot reasonably be adopted.
And this case being fairly disposed of, every other text throughout both testaments will well comport with the doctrine of limited pains and absolute destruction; yes, every other text naturally teaches it. Hence, to place this single passage, the terms of which, at best, are indefinite, above the whole remaining declarations of the Bible, is manifestly unreasonable.
(To be Continued)