inculcation of just maxims of duty fell to be a great
auxiliary to its performance in the circumstances in
which it is necessary to apply them? Is not the
possession of a general rule, with the advantages
of a clear and concise expression,—in the
form of familiar proverbs, or embodied in powerful
imagery,—a potent suggestive to the mind;
not only whispering of duty, but, by perpetual recurrence,
aiding the habit of attending to it? Is not the
early and earnest iteration of such sententious wisdom
in the ears of the young, —the honor which
has been paid to sages who have elicited it, or felicitously
expressed it,—the care with which these
treasures of moral wisdom have been garnered up,—the
perpetual efforts to conjoin elementary moral truth
with the fancy and association,—is not all
this a standing testimony to a consciousness of the
value of such auxiliaries of virtue and duty?
Is it not felt, that, however general such truths
may be, the very forms of expression,—the
portable shape in which the truth is presented,—have
an immense value in relation to practice? Admitting,
therefore, as before,—but, as before, only
conceding it for argument’s sake (for the limits
of variation, even as regards the elementary truths
of morals, are, as experience shows, very wide),—that
each man in some shape could anticipate for himself
the more important ethical truth, there would be yet
ample scope left for the utility of a divinely constructed
instrument for its exhibition and enforcement, in
perfect harmony with the modes in which it is actually
exhibited and enforced by man, in close analogy with
the form in which he attempts the same task, whenever
he teaches any practical art or method whatever.
Only may it not be again presumed here, that He who
knows perfectly “what is in man” would
be able to perform the work with correspondent perfection?
Whether He has performed it in the Bible or not, that
book does, at all events, contain not merely a larger
portion of pure ethical truth than any other in the
world, but ethical truth expressed and exhibited (as
Mr. Newman himself, and most other persons, would
admit) in modes incomparably better adapted than in
any other book to lay hold of the memory, the imagination,
the conscience, and the heart.
Even then, if we conceded that elementary “spiritual
and moral truth” is not only congruous to man’s
faculties, but in some shape universally recognized
and possessed, it might yet be contended, from the
manner in which such truth is dependent for its power
and vitality on the forms in which it comes in contact
with the human spirit and stimulates it, that ample
space is left for such a divine instrument as the Bible;
and that it would be in perfect conformity with the
laws of our nature, —in analogy with the
known modes in which external aids give efficacy to
such truth. At the same time, be pleased once
more to remember, that I concede so much only for
argument’s sake; I contend that in the stricter