upon an intelligent, sensitive human soul of bringing it on a sudden into relation with the mighty forces, kindred though lying external to its own proper being, some intellectual view, some appeal to passion, some incentive to choice, some sting of conscience, which, one or all, in an instant disturb the old balance of character and almost form a new man. Thus something like this, according to tradition, took place in what might be called the conversion to patriotism, or to ambition, of the young and dissolute Themistocles, after his thoughts had been directed to the deeds of the hero of Marathon, so that henceforth "the trophies of Miltiades would not suffer him to sleep." The change was great from the life of pleasure to the life of labor, from frivolity to earnestness, from self-indulgence to anxiety and danger; and gleams of the nobleness of the change are believed to shine forth even in his defeated life at its ignoble close, when as the pensioner of his country's foe he jested on his own outward ease,1 while inwardly stung at the rising glories of Cimon, in whom he recognized the renewal of the same impulse that had produced all that was really great in his own career. The argument we now desire to present may be stated something after this fashion: If there has appeared among

men a

religion addressing itself to every condition of man

in every race, with such power that it cannot only mould the lives of those trained in its precepts, but, addressing

itself

directly to the most intelligent, the religious, the

cultivated, the educated, men and women whose opinions are developed and whose habits are formed, produce a Complete subversion of habits and opinions, putting certainty in place of uncertainty on the most momentous questions, replacing old habits by new ones of an opposite but even firmer kind; and while effecting this great transformation, not destroying the general balance or Soundness of the character, nor giving undue promi

We should have been undone

had not been undone." See

if we Plutarch.

Cf. Milman's Bampton Lectures,

on "The Character and Conduct of the Apostles," etc., Lect. VII., p. 283, etc. 1827

nence to any lower element over a higher, but rather the reverse :—if, I affirm, any religion can be shown to effect such results, it brings with it a mark of truth and reality; it is such a religion as we should believe will be disclosed by the merciful Maker of men to His creatures and children. We are prepared to prove that the religion of Christ is illustrated by this token of truth, not once merely nor at a single period, but in instances without number, habitually, invariably, notoriously, through a succession of ages. Every powerful and generous influence is limited by the nature of the material upon which it operates. The truth acts upon human souls according to the measure of fidelity it finds in each. The truth remains the same, though one soul receives it and another rejects it, though it saves one and condemns another. Every human being that has even momentarily acknowledged a truth of religion has given its witness, though this has been immediately neglected or forgotten. The Old Testament brings before us men in various stages of religious illumination, and in different degrees influenced by religious fear and love, and these may be viewed as instances of partial conversion. Thus Esau, awakened to the results of his careless profaneness, sought in vain, though with tears, a place of repentance. Thus Balaam, though illuminated with the divine disclosures of prophecy, clung to his own sordid habits and dreams. And thus Saul could not cast self-will and ambition from his soul, even after he too had received "a new heart" from God, and been allowed to utter heavenly oracles with God's prophets. But David, though stained most deeply with human infirmity, was permitted to secure God's lasting favor, and, while relieving his own burdened soul, to give expression to the religious aspirations of souls in all ages. Under the new covenant a society was formed which spread itself throughout the world, in cities, villages, and country, setting up everywhere a little community which directly addressed human beings in their

Maker's name,' converted them, caused them to live new lives, exhibiting the sensibility of those who lived only for feeling combined with a self-control and contempt of pain which gave a new idea of heroism to the world. The only support and animating motive of such effects were found in the disclosures made from the unseen world, and in a real communion with that hidden source of strength.

The New Testament places before our eyes two memorable and typical conversions. The first is that of the Apostle S. Peter, who fell, through self-confidence and in spite of plain warnings, into open denial of his Divine Master, but was restored by the loving patience of that Master as He turned and looked upon His consciencestricken disciple. S. Peter afterward showed an analogous weakness when he yielded to the prejudices of his countrymen against the Gentiles, but was brought back to the sounder position in which he had been instructed by vision, through the instrumentality of the great Apostle of the Gentiles.

The conversion of S. Paul (which has been honored in the Church by an especial commemoration) is of so peculiar and marvellous a character, as to be able, almost by itself, to stand as an unassailable and complete vindication of the divine origin of Christianity. The conversion of the original apostles is without doubt to be viewed as a miracle of divine power; and the peculiar attestation it gives to our religion, according to the well-known statement in the most classic of English works on the evidences, has almost the force of a mathematical demonstration: "There is satisfactory evidence that many professing to be original witnesses of the Christian miracles passed their lives in labors, dangers, and sufferings, volunenarrari in omnes difficilem."-Tertullian, Apologeticus, Ch. XLVI.

'Deum quilibet opifex Christianus et invenit et ostendit et exinde totum, quod in Deo quæritur, re quoque assignat; licet Plato [in Timao, p. 28] affirmet factitatorem universitatis, neque inveniri facilem et inventum

'Lord Lyttelton's Observations on the Conversion and Apostleship of S. Paul, S. P. C. K. 1848,

tarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they delivered, and solely in consequence of their belief in those accounts; and that they also submitted, from the same motives, to new rules of conduct." This statement, I say, is a description of the effects of a true conversion, but it is a view of those effects rather from what might be called a legal stand-point; i.e., so that if the evidence be once admitted there is no choice about receiving the conclusion: it is absolutely forced upon us. But the conversion of S. Paul, while containing the same elements of strength, possesses features of what is called, for distinction, probable evidence, soliciting our belief, meeting and anticipating objection, appealing at once to our reason, our sympathy, and our wills, by all the urgency which the spectacle of a good man triumphantly surmounting obstacles of every kind can bring to bear upon the human heart and soul.

Saul of Tarsus, we are to observe, when converted to the religion of Christ, was a Jew, already in the maturity of his natural powers. He had never been a dissolute or careless liver. On the contrary, he was religious and conscientious in the system in which he had been trained; and his training appears to have been an intelligent and peculiarly careful one. Such a person is least likely to undergo a sudden and radical religious change. But another circumstance seemed to pledge steadfastness to his position. He had become an active asserter and defender of his Jewish convictions; nay, more, he had proceeded to persecute the rising sect which threatened what his nation held dear. Every one knows the effect, even upon a wellbalanced mind, of adopting such a course: the passions stimulating the judgment, the man begins to find it difficult to see anything but good on his own side, anything but evil in his adversaries. There can be no doubt that Saul felt the usual effects of such a position, protecting and hardening him against a sudden change. His natural characteristics, moreover, were a kind of defence or 1 Paley's Evidences of Christianity.

1

pledge against any sudden or rash revolution of conviction or action. There can be no doubt that he possessed by nature the firmness and determination of a leader. He had the mind which clearly grasps the principles of a cause, and he had the courage to act upon them. He could not hold convictions loosely and indecisively. His moral earnestness would make him disdain to palter alike between truth and falsehood as between right and wrong, The liberal education he had received would free him from the fetters of all narrow and vulgar prejudice. It is plain, besides, to any impartial student of his writings, that this wonderful man possessed in large measure what the world calls common-sense. No better established maxims of homely and practical wisdom can elsewhere be found. Yet amid, with the plainest admonitions against, sloth, improvidence, selfishness, or lying, are mingled the tender touches of sympathy, the evidence of a soul alive to all that is gentle and noble, spiritual and unselfish. Here were an intellect and heart naturally incapable of being enslaved (at least permanently) by anything sophistical, or narrow, or groundless, or sordid. It had a natural guard against deception in its own soundness and sagacity; it could not deceive others because of its own transparent truthfulness and sincerity. An instinctive prudence withheld it from rashness; a general enlightenment shielded it from prejudice.

And yet the change by which Saul of Tarsus became S. Paul, the Apostle to the Gentiles, was both sudden and thorough. He saw, it is true, what is not ordinarily granted, a miraculous vision from Heaven. But we know, without the testimony of Scripture, that such visions come not with effect upon souls unprepared. This great convert, however, in touching words tells us how the vision affected him. "I was not disobedient,' he says, "unto the heavenly vision." There can be no doubt that the first movement toward the mighty transformation in that great soul is to be traced to the moment when he beheld the martyrdom of S. Stephen. "And