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NEW RELIGION
R GOSPEL OF LOVE.
BY E. ^^^r. GI^AY.
"From the nature of the case all questions remain open, and must so remain. Each mind has its individual and indefensible rights. * * There can be no authority until the authority has been established in the individual reason. The only service one generation can do to another is to hand over its best thoughts to its successor. . Bishop Foster.
CHICAGO:! The Thorne Publishi
167 Adams Stro 1890.
3-^
Copyright 1890. By E. W. gray.
All Rights Reserved.
DEDfCATUON.
The* following pages are respectfully dedicated by the author to the lovers of truth who have found it difficult to accept Chris- tianity as it is usually delfvered from the pulpit.
PREFACE.
The attentive reader will easily discern one purpose running through this book — it need not be here indicated.
That human nature is imperfect — at least less perfect than it is capable of becoming under favoring conditions, is conceded by the philosopher, and assumed in all Law and all Religion.
Whether such imperfection be but the proof of incomplete development, as the evolutionist would teach, or the result of some ^^lapse" from original perfection, as others hold, it is evident that the reformer of whatever name, should do his utmost to ascertain both the nature and extent of the infirmity he seeks to cure, before commencing his medication. There should be diagnosis.
All Religions seek to bring men to ideal perfection — seek to qualify them for dwelling with the eternal. Religion, therefore, is the reformer of highest preten- sions. There are Religions, old and new, but their success as reformers has not been reassuring.
Religion is so sacred that men hesitate to question its competency and pretensions. They have hardly
Viii PREFACE.
dared to take off their veils and look at it as they look at other things. The Scientist proceeds with open eyes and ears from what he thinks he knows, to find out what he wants to know — proceeds from the known to what reason can affirm as true. The Relig- ionist proceeds from a blind impulse, and from what he finds in certain books, received as of divine authority, to find what will satisfy his yearning and corroborate his beliefs.
The method of the Religionist is at fault. It will never give him certainty. Religion should be stud- ied as other subjects are studied — studied in accord with and in the spirit of the scientific method. — At least, the following pages have been written under this conviction.
The distrust felt in regard to all the means and institutions relied on for bettering the condition of men and conserving human happiness is deep and wide. Men look to them across a wild waste of unchecked vice and suffering — look and cry for help in vain. It is felt moie and more that there must be revolution — that a better destiny awaits humanity through changed -methods and conditions.
The institutions of the past are called upon to account for their comparative failure — to render a sufficient reason to the future for continued existence. Even the church cannot be permitted longer to reign by ^'Divine Right." Tyranny and injustice will not longer be permitted to take refuge under her altars.
The Old Religions have been weighed in the bal-
PREFACE. IX
ance and found wanting. The New Religion pro- mises better. But her success in a stretch of nearly 2,000 years has not been all that could be desired. Are her latent potencies likely ever to prove equal to the occasion? Is a genuine Christian socialisnij and through it, a greatly improved condition of the race, possible among men? The author has hope in the future of humanity under the Christian regime. The discussion is very inadequate. No one can be more sensible of this than the author himself.
Many important questions have been raised. If their discussion shall prove suggestive, he will be content.
E. W. Gray.
Bloomington, 111., June 25, 1890.
CONTENTS.
PART I.
Anthropology^ . . _ . Pages, i to 117
PART II.
The Old Religions, ~ - Pages, 118 to 200
PART III.
The New Religion, - - Pages, 203 to End
INTRODUCTION.
There is a wonderful economy or saving in the forces of the universe. One thing so conditions and supplements another that nothing is isolated, unrelated or lost. Planets and suns and systems are held in the wide embrace of one law of gravity; one subtle, inexplicable life force pervades and animates the vegetable and the animal world. And such is this economy in the use of forces that there is practi- cally a whole world for each separate thing; a sun to shine for each plant and tree, and to give life to each insect, bird, animal, child and man. Practically, there is a world, a universe for each human being. The laws of nature, of chemical and vital affinities wait upon and minister to each one just as faithfully as if there were no others; for each the sun shines and the seasons come and go; for each there are the boundless realms of truth, of beauty, of love and right; and the fact that there are millions of these human beings to share in this vast wealth of things does not lessen, but enlarges the possibilities of each.
Man is the face, the front, the forward-reaching of the creation. In him the creation comes to self-
XIV INTRODUCTION.
consciousness. In his backward reaching parts he is joined on to the material forces; is held fast by them so that one part of his being is automatic or self-act- ing, and moves along without his consent, and in sleep without his knowledge. And thus whilst he stands erect and with forward-looking face, his feet rest upon the ground and his backward-reaching parts shade off into the earth, of which they were once a part, and from which they have come; whether by evolution or special creation we need not now ask.
But whenever, or however, man is here; and he is here with face and forward look and movement; and he is here with self consciousness. He not only is, but he knows that he is, and he turns round and talks with himself, and ask of himself what he is, and whence he came, and whither and to what he jour- neys. Nor can he cease to ask.
Man is not only the face of creation, but, as a rational self-conscious being, he is at once the inter- preter and the interpretation of both himself and the universe. He can knov/ things only as he knows himself, and hence in the terms of self-knowledge. He knows matter because he is himself material; he knows reason because he is rational; he knows the good because he is .himself divine. And hence man has always and everywhere been a religious being, has had a religion and a worship. Religion is a part of his being, the outgrowth of the deepest roots of his nature. Religion was not an invention but a birth, and a growth; just as mankind see and hear
INTRODUCTION. XV
and feel because they have eyes and ears and nerves of sense, and just as men reason because they have minds and are in a w^orld of truth. So is man born into moral relations and duties and responsibilities and with a sense of right.
And just as the material forces wait upon the body of man, so do the mental and spiritual minister to his mind and heart. Each one has his own world of truth, of reason, of sentiment and moral principle, and yet it is the same world for all, though differently apprehended. And hence it is only natural that where many of these separate beings have for a long time been under the influence of the same general condi- tions of climate, soil and scenery, and under like environments of social customs, laws and teaching that they should come to have a common religion, as that of the Hebrews, or Egypt, India, Greece and Rome. And naturally enough, too, the growth of ideas, and the intermingling of different races and peoples would result in modifications and changes of beliefs and forms of worship. But at the bottom, all religions are one; they are the objectivized and insti- tutionalized expressions of the rational and spiritual consciousness of the race; just as all thought and work are one in their common source and end, though upon lower or higher planes.
It must be from some such higher conceptions and larger generalizations that such great questions can be intelligently studied; and such is the general standpoint of the author of the New Religion. In
XVI INTRODUCTION.
this way he finds in the nature and needs common to mankind a place and use for all the religions of the world; and hence their classification and the analysis of their peculiar excellencies and Qsffects, are broad, easy, natural and helpful. He does not seek to make a place for the new by denying the preparatory edu- cational values of the old, but gladly confessing these, and at the same tima showing their defects and limi- tations, the new appears as an orderly development or evolution from the lower to the higher; and thus Christianity appears as the complement, the fulfill- ment, the pleroma of all religions, and has in it the principles and the life that are yet to absorb and assimilate and unify all.
In so far. Dr. Gray is in harmony with the genius and catholicity of our time, and is substantially at one with the most thoughtful minds; but when he comes to a definition of what Christianity really is, the agreements can hardly be so perfect, and espe- cially on the part of the dogmatic theologians. He seeks with a studious care to avoid controversy or giving offense, and yet, with a candor and love of truth that are supreme, he is borne along, and one point after another in the old orthodox system is left by the way, and at last the New Religion is substan- tially the new theology.
He accepts the super or higher natural, but cannot admit the fact of law-violating miracles, and con- fesses that, as the miraculous has been generally defined by the orthodox world, Hume's argument
INTRODUCTION. XVll
against it is unanswerable. His views on this sub- ject are clear, strong and helpful.
On the question of depravity, Dr. Gray differs from the orthodox view in making it functional rather than organic. He claims that the disorders that affect the lower and higher nature of man are in the form of deficiencies and excesses; but that these are derange- ments to be corrected; they do not inhere in the essence of his being.
And, whilst with his almost extreme care not to enter the field of controversy, he does not distinctly deny the doctrine of the fall of man, and of original sin, it is evident that these old ideas have no place in his interpretation of Christianity; and having taken this ground, he very naturally finds no place or need for the old doctrine of a penal or substitutional atonement to ^^reconcile the Father," or to satisfy the claims of justice.
But Dr. Gray has a deep conception of the actual sins and needs of mankind, and of the manifestation of God in Christ as the Father and Savior of the world. He emphasizes repentance as the change of the whole attitude of man toward God, and the moral order of the universe, and sees in justification not a cold legal pardon, but the charactering of the soul in righteousness and filling it with the life of God. And in all this he makes love the source, the moving power in God, and the efficient agent in winning the heart.
Indeed, in the New Religion, as interpreted by Dr.
XVI 11 INTRODUCTION.
Gray, there is no place for the old doctrines of origi- nal sin or a penal or substitutional atonement.
His method not being controversial, he has quietly slipped away from these old dogmas, drooped them out of his system, and without formality of statement or declaration of the fact, has put the moral or paternal view in their place. And in all this he is but returning to the earlier Greek interpretations of the Christian religion, in which the doctrines of original sin and substitutional atonement had no place. They are Latin accretions, brought in by Augustine, and adopted by the Roman Catholic church in the Fifth Century; they are not found in the Apostles' or the Nicene Creed; nor are the related doctrine of endless punishment — a subject not discussed by our author — and the uncomfortable fact is, that upon these points the orthodox Protestant church holds substantially the same views as the Roman Catholic. The reforma- tion of the sixteenth century did not go deep enough to touch the foundations; the reformers accepted the Latin theology and sought to reform the abuses of ecclesiasticism that had grown up upon it. This age is going deeper; it is returning to the earlier spiritual conception of the Greek fathers; it is a reformation, not of external forms and abuses, but of the thought of the Christian Vv^orld.
The author of the NeAV Religion stands upon the broad and safe middle ground between the extremes of a too destructive radicalism on the one side, and a too dogmatic conservatism on the other. He takes
INTRODUCTION. XIX
truth for authority instead of authority for truth, and as a result comes out at last into a great and reason- able faith. The work bears abundant evidence of wide and careful reading, and of much honest and patient thinking, and through all is felt the spirit of reverence and an earnest desire to do good. It is a valuable contribution to the great religious thought-movement of our time, and in such a period of transition and unsettling will be a help to many minds and hearts,
H. W. Thomas. Chicago, June 25, 1890.
THE NEW RELIGION.
CHAPTER I.
"Whatever crazy sorrow saith,
No life that breathes with human breath
Hath ever truly longed for death.
'Tis life of which our nerves are scant, O life! not death for which we pant. More life and fuller that we want."
Optimism or Pessimism, Which?
Notwithstanding the usual hurry and bustle of life, there are few men who do not, occasionally, at least, permit themselves to halt and stand face to face with death and the evils which beset and afflict mankind. That these evils are many, and grave, no optimist will deny; that little has been done, or can be done to diminish them, or to inform us how they can be escaped successfully, the pessimist will claim.
There are evils which range high above all human control, and challenge our faith in the wisdom and goodness of the Creator. The earthquake, and storm, and flood; ^^the pestilence that walketh by night, and the destruction that wasteth at noonday." As to
2 THE NEW RELIGION.
these, and other evils which have hitherto baffled all human wisdom and power, and which must do so in time to come, what is the proper attitude of a reason- able being — what response can be made to the pessi mist?
Shall we turn stoic and attempt to ignore them, and treat them as though they were not? Is this possible? If possible for Cato, for Epectetus and Zeno, is it possible for people of different nerve, possi- ble for you and me and all men? Let us be candid. To blink an evil is not to destroy it.
Of shall we decide with Epicurus to ^^Eat, drink and be merry, for to-morrow we die?" But, can pleasure cope with pain and death? Besides, Epi- curus, art thou sure that thou canst quit the scene of intermixed evil to-morrow, and dost to-morrov/ help the pangs of to-day?
The subject is large — too large for this time and place. But one may note: —
I. Fear exaggerates our evils; it enumerates and dwells upon the chances against us; it closes our eyes to the chances in our favor.
In the late war, when under the cannonading of the enemy, all our regiment, excepting one man, were crouchmg and hiding behind trees and logs, now and then a shell would crash through the distant tree- tops, or plough up the earth in a field more or less remote. *'Why, man!" cried a fellow soldier, *'Why don't you hide?" With cool philosophy, he replied: **The danger is very little. Don't you see there are,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 3
in this wide field, many places to miss you and only one to hit — the danger amounts to nothing." And he proved to be right, for not a man was that day touched. His fear had neither magnified the danger, nor disturbed his repose, while the rest were gloaming over disasters that were never to happen, and needlessly suffering the ^ ^terrors of war."
2. Strictly unavoidable evil is a very rare thing, when compared with the actual good.
To every one born blind and deaf, how many thou- sands open glad eyes and ears to all the beauties and all the music of earth and heaven. The adaptations of means to ends everywhere seem perfect, not a com- plete failure in the whole domain of nature. Man is not an ill-assorted exotic m this world, not an ana- chronism. He is fitted to his place, v/ith only the least 'seeming exception. Take away avoidable evils and there v/ill be left but comparatively few discords to break the harmony in the chorus of human life.
Of the unthinkable millions of bioplasts that are building cells and organs and tissues and organisms in animated nature, how many fail in the perform- ance of their appropriate functions, or through failure jeopardize your life and mine? Of all the innumera- ble heavenly host each makes its swift and tireless flight round and round without touch or conflict. When a comet was discovered apparently dashing out across circles and spheres in wild and seeming disorder, men quailed, lest it might hurl itself upon some unoffending child pf the sky^ with instant di^-
4 THE NEW RELIGION.
aster. But a little more knowledge discovers that even the comet is not an unbound fiend, broken loose from the order of the upper deep. It, too, has its purpose and mission, and goes obediently forward to its eccentric destiny.
But, if there be here and there a seeming break, striking down into the prevailing order, let us note that within certain large limits the Divine Artificer is present, with loving hands to work repair.
The foul ulcer heals again. The fractured bone knits. The deepest disappointment drops more and more out of mind, and even the violated conscience ceases to chide when true sorrow has ministered re- tribution for sins committed.
3. Then, too, and finally, there are compensa- tions.
^^Blind Tom," who some years ago traveled in this country, was a marvel of success in certain kinds of music. A better development of the other senses, and especially the touch, largely compensates his loss of sight.
It may be doubted whether the total deafness of Beethoven, at thirty years of age, did not after all prove a blessing, like many others, in disguise, by concentrating his thought upon the symphonies that have rendered him immortal. The mother goes down into the dark depths of a suffering, uncertain fate, to emerge again, if she survives, into the sunlight and joy of a broader and more significant life; and, how often have we seen the dire heart-breaks of some
ANTHROPOLOGY. 5
smitten child of seeming misfortune hasten to issue in a joyous experience which had had no antecedent equah Were there no darkness, CQuld we enjoy the hght? Evil, sometimes, because of our narrow vision and short sight, appears to be only evil, but afterward, when the sky has cleared, we can see the good it has brought us. All things, according to Emerson, are '^double,' and a compensating good ^^is mate of evil." Israel' s king could say, ^*It was good for me to be afflicted; ' and we are told that somehow ^^the Captain of our salvation was made perfect through suffering.'* Yes, there are compensations. Grant then, to the pessimist, that there are evils which can- not be escaped, that human life is sometimes darkly over-clouded, that it is short and feeble — of few days and full of trouble, and seemingly inadequate to its task, we may yet hope that in the hereafter there will be an answering life and benediction, adequate to compensate and cancel all loss, and all sorrow. Vice is self-destructive. It is always cutting and wound- ing itself^ — sapping its own foundations, and its power of self-destruction is cumulative as it advances. But virtue is self-preservative. It never hurts itself. It is cumulative in its power of self-preservation. It is in accord with nature's order — with all the eternal verities. Sometime, therefore, within the cycles of being, we may hope that vice will die, that truth will triumph over error, and that virtue will win the victory — will crown and bless the life immortal — Optimism. -M >Y -^ ^^Somehow good will be the final goal of ill.' *
'The proper study of mankind is man." — Pope.
CHAPTER II.
The Ideal Man.
The ideal physical man, proportional in body and limb is, say six feet tall, and weighs 175 pounds.
For all purposes of strength, agility and endurance, this may be accepted as a standard.
He is endowed with five senses, and with appetites, propensities and passions, or rather with such capacities as make these sensibilities possible and real.
The real man varies from the ideal in stature, through a wide range of imperfection. We find him of every conceivable size and proportion, from the giant to the dwarf — from the typical and finely devel- oped American to the diminutive and swarth}^ Bush- man of Africa.
Where no violence has been suffered, the power of endurance and length of life are, within limits, in proportion to the perfection of the physical organism.
All men have a sense of something better possible — some intuition of an ideal state of perfection and hap- piness, toward which they aspire with something of desire and effort; and per contra a corresponding sense of imperfection and ill-desert, from which they would fain escape.
8 THE NEW RELIGION.
'^All human law proceeds upon the assumpton that the race is sinful, and history records the fact. There are no religions which are not found in the conviction of human imperfection."^
So ubiquitous and inscrutable has evil, moral and physical, personal and general, ever been that men have everywhere apothesized it. The Egyptian had his Typhon. The Brahmin and the Buddhist their Siva, the Persian his Ahriman, the Scandinavian his Loke, the Jew and the Christian their Satan.
That the organic union of the spirit with matter was the source of all human imperfection and suffering, was the doctrine, not only of Plato, but of the Indian Seer long before him.
According to the Greek philosopher, the human spirit had an ante-mundane existence, and was per- fect, and perfectly happy, ^^following in the wake of the gods."
But owing to some direliction, he does not tell us what or why, he was condemned to be born a human being — was imprisoned in a material body, retaining only reminiscences of the former self. The senses may not be trusted. The power of sense must be broken ere he can escape life's torturing disabilities and resume his place with the gods.
All philosophers agree in assertmg the frailty and imperfections of men. Aristotle, while admitting the universal infirmity, maintained, with singular insight
I. Barnes Ev. Chris. 19th Cent.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 9
and perception of the truth, the necessity of living in accord with the order of nature, as a condition of happiness.
According to Homer, two jars stand in the Palace of Zeus, one filled with evil, one filled with good gifts for men; later there w^ere two filled with evil and only one with good. Later still, Simonides said, sor- row follows sorrow so quickly that even the air can- not penetrate between them.^
Seneca says, '^Not only have we transgressed; we shall continue to do so to the end of life." It was the complaint of our ancestors, it is ours, it will be that of posterity, that morals are subverted, that cor- ruption reigns. The human mind is perverse by nature, and strives and strives for what is forbidden. ^
That something of this human infirmity is due to unfavorable external influences — to climate, to envi- ronment, to heredity, is conceded by all An ideal republic from which the influences that tend to debase men are eliminated, and in which the race, under favoring conditions would grow toward perfection, was the dream of Plato, of Sir Thomas More and others.
Mr. Buckle has elaborated with profound research, the iniSuences of climate and other surroundings, and claims that vice and error are subject to law, and vary with, if they do not depend upon, such sur-
1. Ullman Coni. Heathen, with Chris, p. 72.
2. Ibid, p -^8.
lO THE NEW RELIGION.
roundings. H^, says: 'It surely must be admitted that the existence of crime according to a fixed and uniform scherie, is a fact most clearly attested. We have cha?r:6 of evidence, formed with extreme care, under the most different circumstances, and all point- ing in the same direction, and all forcing us to the conclusion that the offences of men are the result of the state of society into which the individual is thrown."^
Mr. Leckey follows in the same vein of thought and arrives at the same conclusion.
Des Cartes sa3^s: ''With respect to seemingly natural impulses I have observed, when the question related to the question of right or wrong in action, that they frequently led me to take the worse part.^
"We must regret that even in the best natures the social affections are so over-borne by the personal as rarely to command conduct in a direct way, and in accordance with this statement Compte proceeds to speak of the radical imperfection of the human char- acter."^
But this recognition of human infirmity in history and philosophy becomes an impassioned wail in religion.
The rapt Isaiah exclaims with poetic passion, "the whol-e head is sick, the whole heart famt. From the
1. Hist. Civilization, Vol. i, p. 21.
2. Hand Book Philosophy, p. 210.
3. Positive Philosophy, pp. 131-13^.
ANTHROPOLOGY. II
sole of the foot, even unto the head, there is no sound- ness, but wounds and bruises, and putrefying sores. ^ And the Psalmist, who was the best informed man of his age in relation to the nature and the needs of humanity, sa3^s in the same vein and to the same effect: ^^They are corrupt, they have done abomina- ble works, there is none that doeth good and they are all gone aside, they are altogether become filthy, there is none that doeth good, no not one;"^ while the characterization of Paul, in his letter to the Romans,^ is something terrible.
In Adam's fall We sinned all,
IS the brief postulate of the theologian; and the long wail of the church concerning '^Original Sin" and ^^Total Depravity" is still ringing in our ears.
But without further historical reference we may note that, while nearly all agree in asserting a com- mon human infirmity, wide differences of opinion pre- vail as to the causes and the extent of this infirmity.
Those who have studied the subject easily divide into two classes:
First, those who hold that it inheres in the material organism, and
Second, those who hold that man was created per- fect, but subsequently fell into sin.
Some of those of the first class hold with Plato and the Orientals, that the organic union of the originally
I. Chap. 5. 2. Psa. 14. 3. Chap. i.
12 THE NEW RELIGION.
perfect spirit with matter has resulted in its intellec- tual and moral debasement, while thoje who hold with Darwin and the Evolutionists, believe that men have not yet outgrown the essential baseness of their origi- nal being.
Of the second class there are those who hold: First, that the lapse of man was so complete and fatal as to vitiate his whole nature, and render him absolutely incapable of virtue,^ and second, that the lapse was so slight as only to disturb the balance of his mental and moral powers, and to generate certain tendencies to immorality, leaving him not vicious and sinful /<?r se, but weaker and more exposed to tempta- tion.^
Such, then, is the almost uniform agreement of observers as to the fact of human infirmity; and such
1. Hagenbach Hist. Doctrines, Vol. 2, p. 25.
2. The English church following Augustine and Anselm and fairly representing the so-called orthodox view of the Latin church puts it thus: "When man sinned, that in-dwelling spirit, upon which all his righteousness and holiness depended, was with- drawn, and that image of God, which had been imparted, was lost; and, along with this, men lost all power either of willing or doing good works pleasing and acceptable to God; so that he is very far gone from original righteousness, and of his own nature is inclined to evil; having no power of himself to help himself; not able to think a good thought or to work a good deed, his very nature being perverse and corrupt, destitute of God's word and Grace! In short, he was no longer a citizen of heaven, but a fire- brand of hell and a bound slave to the devil. Hist. Denomina- tions in Eng. and America, p. 240.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 1 3
some of the varying opinions as to the nature and extent of this infirmity. The ideal man is but an ideal. The real man everywhere furnishes the proof of imperfection — sad, overwhelming.
If the old Indian or Platonic view of the essential baseness of human nature be accepted, or still worse, if the church view of ^^Total Depravity" is admitted, it is difficult to see how any science, moral or ethical, can be built up. Every manifestation of the spirit has been touched and defiled, every moral phenome- non has been perverted; how, then, can it be known what the true humanity is, or can be? Where is the starting point in the investigation? Can you ascend from what is essentially imperfect and false to that which is essentially perfect and true? If man is without law and above law, to-day, in his baseness and depravity, what will he be to-morrow? There is nothing in his nature upon which to erect even a rea- sonable conjecture as to what will be his place or condition or character in the future, to say nothing of the much greater difficulty of determining the L^w and the destiny of his future being.
This difficulty was noticed long ago, by Dr. Ward- law, in his Christian Ethics (4th edition, London, 1844). He says, ^'Man is both the investigator, and, in pn.rt at least, the subject of investigation. In each of these views of him there is a source of error. The first arising from the influence of his depravity on his character as an investigator, and the second from the disposition to make his own nature (without advert-
14 THE NEW RELIGION.
ing to its fallen state) his standard of moral princi- ples, and his study in endeavoring to ascertain them. "^
If the conceded moral disorder be indeed so radical and complete, the conclusion of Dr. Wardlaw seems entirely logical. Dr. Calderwood, who distinctly admits the reigning moral infinity, very justly insists that whatever the disorder m.ay be, ^^it is not such as to destroy reason and render men unable to make true and changeless moral distinctions. " ^ It cannot be total.
It seems evident enough that whatever imperfec- tion attaches to men, it yet leaves them in natia-e and kind the same. Was man originally endowed with intellect, sensibility and will power? He is yet so endowed. Was he created able to perceive, to acquire knovv^ledge, to reflect, to compare and make deductions? He is yet so able. Was he endowed with moral sense, conscience, emotion, passion, desire, affection. He is so yet. Could he make choice, exercise volition, recognize moral obligations and worship God. He can still do so.
No elementary constituent has either been added or abstracted from the original mental constitution. Men are not wanting in the elements of their man- hood, but in the propriety of their functional activi- ties— in the proper adjustment and co-ordination of their powers — in the balance and equilibrium of the affectional nature.
1. Vide Calderwood Hand-book of Moral Philosophy, p. 215.
2. Ibid.
ANTHROPOLOGY. l5
He can acquire and classify knowledge, point out moral distinctions, discover law, and build science; but, mark you, with less success and brilliance of result, in consequence of his infirmity, whatever it may be, and however accounted for.
But, leaving science proper out of the question, and looking to practical results, it is obvious that the respective theories of human infirmity differ greatly.
If it be regarded as organic — congenital, then manifestly self-immolation — asceticism is the ethical and religious requirement. If it be regarded as a lapse from original perfection into absolute total depravity, then the death and destruction of the old man, and the regeneration of a new man is the desideratum.
But, if the infirmity amount only to a disturbance and disorder of the once co-ordinated powers, then such discipline and moral influence as will tend to restore the balance and equilibrium of the mental and moral nature, is the desideratum — the logical requirement.
If the theory of evolution be the true one, then what? Age on age of experience with the * 'Survival of the fittest," good feeding, sanitation, a favoring climate, and other meteorological conditions, and, especially, the study of the laws of health, the possi- bilities of heredity in the reproduction of life — all these, will subserve and forward the general improvement. But time, millions upon millions of years, is the desideratum.
^^Quemcunque miserum videris hominem sclas."^
CHAPTER III.
Analysis.
Two principles must guide our inquiries into the nature of man; and not less when regarded as infirm and depraved than when considered in his normal condition as the creature of God.
First. We must proceed by psychological analysis.
It is not enough for the patient to inform his physi- cian that he is sick and suffering, nor will the intel- ligent physician begin his medication upon such information.
He will, at leasts attempt a diagnosis — inquire into the location of the pain, the condition of the various organs and tissues and their respective functions, with a view of ascertaining, if possible, what the specific lesion or lesions may be. And, obviously, until this is done, he is not prepared to make intelli- gent use of remedies.
^^To know ourselves diseased is half our cure."
The case before us is one requiring diagnosis. It is not enough to say that man is a fallen being — a sinful and depraved being] not enough to describe his condition as one of moral disorder. It is not enough to 3ay with Jererrjicih^ ^^the heart is deceitful
l8 THE NEW RELIGION.
above all things, and desperately wicked;" ^ nor with Paul, in Adam all are ^^dead in sin;" nor with the churches, ^^totally depraved." These and similar descriptions, of which we have had many^ are general — indefinite, and do not convey specific information as to the psychological condition and status.
Writers on mental and moral science have very properly directed attention to the elemental constitu- ents of the human constitution, but they have dealt more with the ideal man, than with the real man. The fact of imperfection and vice, as they appear in human conduct, is so constant and universal that it must be included as a factor in the problem under study.
Dr. Calderwood, while admitting the fact of moral disorder, concedes to Dr. Wardlaw ^^that moralists have not given that amount of consideration to it which their admission of the fact clearly requires." And yet, in writing his excellent and discriminating ^^Hand-book of Moral Philosophy," he himself dis- misses the subject in a very brief chapter near the close of his work — a mere appendix.
Locke taught the need of mapping out the limits of the human faculties;^ and Bacon attempted a classi- fication of error-producing defects under the designa- tion of ^adols."3
1. Jeremiah 17: 9.
2. Stated by Leckey Hist. Ra. Vol. i, p. 400,
3. Novum Organum.
ANtttROPCLOGY. tg
feut ail these attempts at classification are clearly wanting in psychological distinctions. The case is one of disease and must be studied and treated as such; a more intelligent diagnosis must be made out.
Second. The second principle which is to guide us, and which we must keep in view, is the design or purpose of the Creator as it appears in nature, and especially in the nature of man himself.
It is not here supposed that this design can always be discovered and apprehended in its length and breadth, that there are not instances in which it is impossible to discover it. But, there are, in most cases, evident and unmistakable traces of the divine purpose to which we shall do well to give earnest heed.
If we look into external nature we shall discover upon every hand adaptation of means to ends in fur- therance of some specific purpose of the Creator — so many of these adaptations and so wonderful, that we cannot doubt the Divine wisdom and goodness.
It is very clear that man himself was not made wholly for himself. Although complex and many sided in his being, he has an appropriate place, and a part to act in the cosmic drama. Endowed with the prerogatives of reason and conscience and volition, we should expect him, within the sphere of his capacity, to also suit means to ends and maintain the order and harmony of nature. When, therefore, we see him illy adjusting himself to the general order,
20 THE NEW RELIGION.
or worse than this, antagonizing it, we may be sure that he himself has ceased to be what he was intended to be, and should call a halt.
Following as we may be able the Divine purpose, as the fabled thread of Ariadne into the dark and sinuous recesses of human nature, and with earnest fidelity seeking to comprehend man in his relations, we may possibly discover, on the one hand, some errors into which the more discursive thinking of men have led them, and, on the other, obtain a clearer view of some truths as yet but imperfectly understood.
I hold a middle rank 'twixt heaven and earth, On the last verge of mortal being stand,
Close to the realms where angels have their birth, Just on the boundaries of the spirit land.
— Dierzhavm,
CHAPTER IV.
Two Natures.
Man is a '' double-faced somewhat" of two natures — a higher and a lower — a physio-psychic and a psychic nature. But these so intertwine and blend as to make it difficult, with our present knowledge, to determine definitely the line upon which Lhey separate.
On opposite sides they appear distinct enough — on this, the limitations of matter, through which, by five senses, the human soul struggles into consciousness — on that, reason and the higher sensibilities. Here appetite and propensity, with the fugitive gratifica- tion which indulgence brings — there thought and love and conscience, which heed neither time nor space; but, from either side they shade off together into apparent organic oneness.
The predominance of the lower nature is conspicu- ous in the earlier life, there being scarcely a trace of the higher life in the infant. But, with advancing years, the germinal higher life develops, more and more, and becomes conspicuous in the ardent aspira- tions, the soaring thoughts and deep-toned sensibili- ties of ripe manhood.
Thus organized into a complex unit, their respect-
24 THE NEW RELIGION.
ive forces operate upon and influence each other, and unite in producing the hfe and character of the earth-and-heaven-born man. Were they but properly co-ordinated and directed, the whole life would be a benediction, beautiful in the sight of men and of God.
But alas! Quem te Dens esse jus sit, non es — thou art not, O man, what God ordained thee to be. The Divine purpose has been, to some extent, frustrated; there is not perfect harmony in the hierachy of the affections; the two natures have come into something of conflict, and human life and human happiness are at discount.
The power of each over the other is potent, both for good and evil. A defective co-ordination and predominance of the physical may cripple and pre- vent the development of the higher life, even to insanity and idiocy, while illy directed spirit forces may work great damage to the physical organism.-^
Thus it is, account for it as we may, one is born a genius, another an idiot; one with such perfection of the physical and nioral make-up as to almost warrant
I. The merest embers and spark of a headache may be blown into a roaring conflagration by the steady breath of hypochondria. Fear so disturbs the balance of the system that it delivers us bound hand and foot to many a disease to which there was not a shadow of necessity for surrender. You can scarcely count your pulse without increasing it beyond the safety line. Try to make sixteen out of your breathing rate by personal count and find what a disturbing cause are induced currents from the upper brain. — J. B, Taylor, in Christian Science Examined, p. 27.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 25
in advance the development of a well rounded and beautiful character; but another with such a power- ful ^^bent to sinning'' as to make it next to impossi- ble for him to keep his wayward feet in the pathway of virtue. Between these extremes of organic infirm- ity, we have every degree and color of natural pro- pensity and tendency.
These facts are of the utmost ethical significance. It is plainly impossible to intelligently prescribe a rule of discipline and conduct for any one unless we know something of his peculiar weaknesses and temptations. It is most evident that different persons start into life with widely different aptitudes and tendencies, a fact that should be distinctly recognized by the casuist and the teacher, and by jurors and judges in courts of justice as well.
What, then, can be done — quid esse potest? Can the most happily constituted be improved? Can the less fortunate be helped? and how? These are ques- tions for the philanthropists and the philosophers of all the ages.
It is the purpose of this work, in part, to assist, if possible, in making intelligent answer to these ques- tions— to examine, very briefly, into the feasibility and propriety of the reformatory measures that have been proposed by the leaders of thought, in different ages, and to present the claims of the Christian regime as best suited to the work in hand.
Let us consider the reason of the case, for nothing is law that k not reason."
CHAPTER V.
The Lower Nature.
How to improve the race in physical manhood is a question for the biologist, and the physiologist; and a very serious and important question it is, too, since confessedly a sound body has very close relations with a sound mind — ''Mens sanis in sane corpore.'"
The fact that the length of a generation, in civilized countries, has steadily increased during the last 300 years, is principally due to hygienic causes and better knowledge of the laws of health. As men emerge from barbarism, the life term of a generation is hardly more than a score of years. Three hundred years ago, in Europe, it was less than thirty years. The average length of life, as given by the British C37CI0- pedia, is in Europe, 34 years; in Prussia, 39.8; in Naples, 31.65.
In the olden time it was said: '^The days of our years are three score and ten, and, if by reason of strength, they be four score, yet is their strength labor and sorrow, for it is soon cut off, and we fly away." Ps. 90: 10. And it is remarkable that this limit of life, observed by the intelligent seer 3,000 years ago, has remained substantially unchanged from that day to the present.
28 THE NEW RELIGION.
But, at best, this is a sadly low rate of longevity. Improvident living, exposure, the abuse of over-work and over-excitement, climatic and meteorological influences, avoidable and unavoidable diseases, whose name is legion, all unite to render the average life of man much shorter than it was clearly intended to be.
We learn from the Bible record, that Abraham lived 175 years, Jacob 147, Moses and Joshua 120, and we know that such exceptional prolongations of life still occur. Peter Czartan, a Hungarian peasant, born in 1539, lived 185 years; and Thomas Parr, an Englishman, 152 years, and died of an accident. From the census taken during the reign of Vespasian, Pliny enumerates 740 cases, taken from the region between the Apennines and the Po, whose average age was 123; and Dr. Farr, from the census enumera-
NoTE. — Among litterateurs, poets, and men of renown, Tasso, Virgil, Shakespeare, Moliere, Dante, Pope, Ovid, Racine and Demosthenes, died between fifty and sixty years of age. Lavalet, Bocaccio, Fenelon, Aristotle, Cuvier, Milton, Rosseau, Erasmus and Cervantes, between sixty and seventy; Dryden, Petrarch, Linnaeus, Locke, Handel, Gallileo, Swift, Robert Bacon and Charles Darwin, between seventy and eighty. Thomas Carlyle, Young, Plato, Buffon, Goethe, Franklin, Sir W. Herschel, New- ton, Voltaire, between eighty and ninety; and, between ninety and one hundred, Sophocles, Michael Angelo and Titian.* Their average length of life being well up to the good old standard of "three score and ten." These higher pursuits and larger respon- sibilities are not inimical to health an^ longevity as they are sometimes supposed to be.
^ Bncj^clop. grittanica,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 29
tion and registered deaths in England and Wales, shows that out of every million of the population, 223 attain the age of 100. Haller and Buffon could see no reason, in the human organism, why the rule should not be 100, instead of ^^three score and ten."
^ ^Learned writers," says Dr. N. S. Davis, of Chi- cago, ^^have expressed widely different opinions con- cerning the natural duration of human life. Hufe- land has claimed it to be 200 years, and others have fixed upon periods varying from 100 to 150 years. The greatest age attained by any individual in modern times is 169 years; while the youngest old man on record was Louis II, king of Hungary, who was crowned when two years old, succeeded to the throne in his tenth year, was married in his fifteenth year, and died, wornout and gray, in his twentieth year." ^
But whatever the normal period of life may be or. was intended to be, there can be no doubt that men were born to die. All history, all the analogies, go to prove it. There may be, and doubtless are, erroneous conceptions of death. The change it effects is probably less than most imagine, and it may be more than others believe; but the change we denomi- nate death is the heritage of the race. Change is the law of all existence. Everything has its sphere and cycle of being — its death and resurrection. The very rocks trodden only by the foot of time, yield their imprisoned forceSi and start again into organic being,
I, Fifty Ye^rs and gej^ond, pp. 17, 18,
30 THE NEW RELIGION.
We know that the earth is momentarily cooHng, and that the chill of death is already upon her North and South poles. The earth itself must die. The moon is already dead — so the astronomers say.
''Dust thou art, and to dust shalt thou return/' — this is the irrevocable decree.
But the fact most to our purpose here, and one to which attention is invited, is that the average life of a generation falls so lamentably short of its possibili- ties, as set forth in the cases of the greatest longevity.
The life of a generation in the most enlightened countries is now about forty years, but much less in less enlightened countries. Why should it not be, instead of forty, a hundred years or more. Dr. Davis, whom we have just quoted with pleasure, speaking on this subject, says: ''The truth is, there is no natural period of life common to all indi- viduals," and such is the immense disparity, in the life-period of human beings, we must hesitate to ques- tion his statement. But, confessedly, there is a natural old-age limit, beyond which none pass, and this admitted, it implicitly follows that the period which elapses between birth, its natural beginning, and old age, its natural end, is the natural period of human life.
' 'Order is heaven' s first law. ' ' Every sun and moon and star counts its revolutions regularly and on time. Vegetable life is annual, or biennial or triennial, etc. The life period of insect, bird and beast is, for each, something like a constant quantity. It is so constant,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 3I
at least, as to indicate the presence of law. The exceptions can be accounted for on the score of adventitious and disturbing causes. It indeed seems reasonable to suppose that two or more beings of like capacities, and like destiny, should have equal periods of life, in which to complete the cycle of its activities and enjoyments. Why should one sparrow or one squirrel live longer than another, and for similar rea- sons why should one man live longer than another? Is his physical life-period without law? — all a matter of chance and fate?
There are proofs enough that certain causes play havoc with the human organism and cut short human life. May not all of such causes account for the dis- parity that exists in the life-period of the several indi- viduals, on the theory that each one is born to a natural period of life common to the race?
But, if this be true, every child of humanity has a birthright to the full term of man's appointed life, whether it be loo or i,ooo years. But, if so, then what immense damage has been inflicted upon the unfortunates who die in infancy and childhood — upon all, indeed, who are taken off before their time!
From this point of view we shall be able to see to what extent the physical life of man has degen- erated, and the distance he must travel backward and upward to reach the olympian heights to which he was appointed by the Creator.
But though all must die, death never conquers — :2ie^er annihilates. The Phoenix springs from her
32 THE NEW RELIGION.
own ashes. The crawling, helpless worm leaps from its chrysalis into a more beautiful and wider life. Force may be transformed, it cannot be destroyed. Human life is here and now but dimly shadowed forth, its destiny but hinted at. It is shut into con ditions which more and more it spurns. These con- ditions were suited to the first stages of its being. They are utterly unsuited to the later stages and must be changed. The full-fledged human soul de- mands a changed environment — a ^^new heaven and a new earth" — better facilities and larger opportuni- ties to develop and display its powers, to fulfill the Divine purposes, and find its goal.
The relation existing between a good physique and a good character is notably intimate and constant, and deserves the earnest attention of those who seek to improve and advance the race.
The Romans, masters of the world 2,000 years ago, appeared to the Etruscans as a '^nation of kings."
The better classes of Americans — those who give to the country its institutions, and its character, and who bid fair to become the second masters of the world, surpass all others in the uniform excellence of their physical organism. A sound mind in a sound body is an exhaustless source and the condition precedent of great power, and it is true not only as to power, but to knowledge, courage, virtue.
But the most important fact to be noted in connec- tion^ is the indication the history of this, and gf
ANTHROPOLOGY. 33
conquering nations generally, furnishes, as to the the means of improving the race as such.
Rome grew up out of an endless mixture of tribes and races; and, through infinite crossings and recross- ings, climbed to her superiority. When a nation has become rich, and out-grown the need of active and wide commerce, she soon settles into something like mediocrity. Grand and striking characters begin to disappear from her history. Physical and mental degeneracy set in and go hand in hand.
America, thus far, has grown up under conditions not widely different from those of early Rome. In her blood runs every strain and type of European life, and with her, it is becoming more and more evi- dent, lies the progress and destiny of civilization.
Heredity — What does heredity mean? What are its potencies as a factorig;;tlxQjiingj;guplift?
In his lower nature^^roa^SKi^eSj^ and,
as we have just sepa, a veryi>=p*w^^4id sicR^Y one at that, one-half the/r^e dying in childhoodJL. vtle may be improved or d«bg;sed^as are other animaip. If he is to be much imprtii^ecj^-he must be bett&'l^orn.
The effort in our schools has been to develop and improve the higher nature, rather than the lower — to cultivate the mental powers by imparting knowledge. But, as a means of improving the race as such, it has not succeeded, and cannot. The improvement thus effected is not transmissable from parent to child. The individual is ^ ^educated" and, what of natural ability he has^ is nursed and petted^ and here and
34 THE NEW RELIGION.
there one wins distinction. Grant, that, by his her- culean efforts, he attains the heights of knowledge. It is well, but alas! he transmits nothing of his splen- did achievements to his posterity. His children, with such inherited capacities as a blind fate has bequeathed them, must begin, where he began, at the bottom of the hill, and, possibly with less ability than he had. It is the struggle of sisyphus. Generation after generation follows suit, and no progress is made. How many families actually deteriorate under the discouraging process? What race progress has been made since the days of Plato and Aristotle? When shall we find another Athens, or another Alexandria?* According to what we know of the laws of repro- duction and transmission of life, and this, confessedly, is very little, to our shame be it said, extreme ten- dencies may be checked, abnormalities corrected,
*NoTE. — The assumption that the movement of man has always L3en one of progress, and that the lowest forms of savage life at present, illustrate, everywhere, an advance upon man's primitive condition, seems irreconcilable with the facts of history. Unfor- tunately there are, within the ranks of every civilized society, large communities of persons who, though surrounded by all the appliances of education, morality and civilization, are, in their modes of life, habits and instincts, savages. All know that the pauper and dangerous classes are continually recruited from the ranks of those above them. All know that ihese classes transmit their habits and character to their descendants, and that, were it not for the constant efforts of the better portions of society, they would threaten the very existence of civilization. M. B. Ander- son, in Johnston's Cyclopedia, Art. Man.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 35
wayward propensity and illicit passion modified, at least, if they cannot indeed be bred out of the life entirely, and a better organic make-up secured.
This much, at least as to the lower animals, is admitted. Intelligent stockmen understand and apply it.
It is due to future generations that those who are directing the educational forces, should not only utilize all that is known as to such possibilities, but, that they should provide such facilities for observation and stud}^, as the obvious importance of the subject demands, in order that research may be pushed to the farthest limit.
Those who contemplate entering into the marriage relation, should see to it that life's forces are so co-ordinated that their children shall not be cursed with hereditary vice and imbecility. They owe it rather to their children that they should be an improvement upon themselves — endowed with a better physique and better powers.
It is hardly credible that intelligent men, capable of reason and foresight, should so completely ignore and disregard the possibilities of exalting their progeny, on this line of improvement as they do. It does not seem to have occurred to those who cherish their off-spring with infinite care and solicitude, and who labor to provide for them every advantage and com- fort, without regard to expense, and self-sacrifice, that, possibly, much that is more valuable than any- thing money can purchase, or parental affection can
36 The new religion.
suggest, might have been secured to them had they but exercised the sagacity and prudence of the com- mon stockman.
What has been achieved in the domain of mere animal life, and with comparatively little systematic study, should stimulate the most earnest effort, to realize greater results, in the higher human life. It is one of the sad facts of history that so little atten- tion has been given to the subject in scientific circles.
No chair in any institution of learning, either in this country or elsewhere, so far as I know, has been endowed with adequate means for prosecuting the study of heredity. Most of what is known as to the laws of reproduction and the transmission of life, has been contributed by naturalists and stockmen, with- out any regard to the possibilities of improving the world-life of man himself. The effort has been to cram him with knowledge, as though knowledge were the chief good to him, to cultivate the tree from the top downward, without regard to the soil and sap upon which its fruitage depends. But thus, what is gained for the individual, is lost to his progeny, and the toil of sisyphus goes on.
CHAPTER VI.
The Lower Nature.
Appetite,
The organic physical life is imparted under such physiological conditions as to require constant care and supervision— instant and continued alimentation. The air must give its oxygen, and various kinds of 'ood must furnish nutrition.
They must be regularly supplied and distributed throughout the system.
And not less necessary is it, that the worn-out effete matter which has served its purpose and been discharged, shall be as regularly removed. The pro- cesses of the physical life are many and complex. If they were all understood by the individual he could not attend to and execute them. To do so he must blow at the lungs, and grind at the stomach, and pump at the heart, and unload at the emunctories, all at once and always, and yet not the half nor the hun- dredth part would be done.
But, he is kindly released from all this. Another — the all wise and all good, stands unweariedly by, touching the keys, sustaining and directing the forces, and the wheels of organic life continue to spin.
38 THE NEW RELIGION
But we soon discover that the spirit within — the man himself, has, after all, a part to play. He must provide food in quality and kind for alimentation. He must provide against heat and cold and storm; and this requires labor and vigilance. He has a part to play. Will he do it? Will he do it as regularly and faith- fully as it needs to be done?
He will. But, as if he could not otherwise be trusted with such grave responsibilities, he is bound by certain appetites and instincts to his part of the obligation.
His instinctive love of money will provide the need- ful means; appetite and taste, or hunger, will find the food and see to it that he takes it in such kind and quantity as the organism needs; love of gain, appetite, taste, satiety, these are his prompters and his guides, and, thus equipped, he is started upon his world-life, whether it be for 100 or 1,000 years. Means to ends — we are just hinting at them — how beautiful all these adaptations, infinite in number and kind! Behold how one eternal purpose runs through all this blessed handiwork of God!
^^And God created man in his own image. In the image of God created he him, male and female cre- ated he them, and God saw everything that he had created, and behold it was very good."
But, should one yield to these propensities — get gain, indulge appetite, gratify taste — this were sen- suality, Epicureanism. These appetencies are the voice of God, and may not be disregarded. In 3^our
ANTHROPOLOGY. 39
shallow and short-sighted wisdom you sometimes set them aside, and substitute your own wisdom. It is an impertinence; it is worse than folly; it is a crimi- nal interference with nature's order.
But you say the appetite and taste sometimes call for what proves to be injurious, and therefore we must take the dietary into our own hands. This is the exception and not the rule.
Very often what you prescribe proves injurious. What then? In the presence of the Creator's wisdom yours is very small. Better follow appetite until you prove it to be morbid and untrustworthy. Appetite makes less mistakes than the doctor, and is more worthy of trust.
That it is possible for disease, or the witchery of the modern cook, to stimulate appetite and taste to the point of causing them to make abnormal and hurt- ful demands, no one can doubt; and, it is equally clear, that some, losing sight of the grander possi- bilities of life, abandon themselves to beastly indul- gence. But such facts, taken in connection with the sickening consequences of such intemperate indul- gence, only make it more obvious and imperative that the benevolent Creator's order of things should be respected and maintained.
''Since the improvement of cooking," said Frank- lin, 100 years ago, ''men eat a fourth more than they need." But the trouble of overeating arises most from too rapid eating, and want of mastication. If the food be bolted, too much is swallowed before the
40 THE NEW RELIGION.
stomach has time to say enough. The error is one not so much of appetite, or of cookery, as it is one of mistaken haste and want of time in eating.
It is the function of appetite and taste, with their dehcate and delicious pleasures, to subserve and sus- tain the health and well-being of the physical organ- ism, and their delightful ministries are not to be undervalued.
But, to prostitute the nobler self to mere animal gratification would but prove that one is more an animal than a man.
CHAPTER VII. The Lower Nature.
Aiuirice,
"Be sure to turn a penny, lie and swear,
'Tis wholesome sin. But Jove, thou sayest, will hear!
Swear, feast, or starve, for the dilemma's even.
A tradesman thou? and hopest to go to heaven?"
Dr. Calderwood, in his Handbook of Moral Philos- ophy, argues, and logically, too, that the right to acquire property is established, not by deduction, but by intuition. But he does not inform us as to the amount of property it is right for any one to acquire. He claims that it is right and proper ^^to use one's powers for their natural ends only,'' and in this, too, he is certainly right.
What, then, are the ^'natural ends,^^ for the attain- ment of which, in the matter of acquiring property, it is proper to use one's powers?
Is the mere acquisition of property the end? Moral philosophy, while it has decided that it is right to acquire property, has not made answer. Men gener- ally devote most of their time and strength to money- getting. In view of the great and varied powers with which man is endowed, and especially in view the
42 THE NEW RELIGION.
the limited possible uses of money, it is evident enough that the acquisition of property, as such, is not an adequate end for human conduct. It can be use- ful, but for a short time, and at best does not respond to the higher needs of men; and, the question returns, what is the proper end to be had view in the matter of getting gain — what is the moral law involved?
This, moral philosophy, and not ethics, must show. But this, it has failed to do. Somehow, and partly, no doubt, because of this failure, men have very gen- erally come to believe, if we may judge from their actions, that the acquisition of property, without limit as to quantity, is right as an end, provided it be acquired by fair and honest means. The practice of the world appears to accord with this view.
What, then, is the law touching this matter.
We can only arrive at the answer by inquiring into the uses — the real and only proper uses — of property.
1 . The body must be cared for — it must be nourished and protected. But this requires houses, food and clothing, and these again require money.
2. In the order of nature, and under the requisitions of society from which we cannot escape, others become dependent upon us in such a way that it becomes our duty to provide also for them what they need, and this requires money — property.
3. And then, too, no one should content himself with providing only for the needs of the lower nature. Money has important relations with man's higher nature. He needs knowledge — the inspiration and
ANTHROPOLOGY. 43
gratification of art, music, painting, statuary. He needs something of leisure — the comfort of rest, and preparation for possible helplessness, sickness and old age, all of which imply and necessitate the acqui- sition and use of money.
All these, and possibly other nameable ones, we may assume, are legitimate uses, and combined con- stitute a natural end, toward which it would be right to direct and exercise one's powers.
How much these icses would require, must be left for the reason to determine, in view of the conditions involved; but the amount must not transcend these legitimate uses. If possible, the supply must be brought up to this requirement, it must not transcend it, on pain of misdirecting and irreparably damaging the nobler self — a competency, and no more.
But alas! the old question. What is a competency?
It plainly differs for each individual, and in any case it is a confessedly difficult question to determine. It is a question for ethical science, but its discussion does not lie within the scope of this work.
Whatever it may be, however, it requires a good proportion of life's labors to provide it, especially if one make common cause with humanity, as enjoined by Christianity, and shrink not from the claims of duty to his fellow men.
Two facts must now be noted — This propensity, like others of the human soul, is liable to misdirection — to abnormal, and especially to excessive development. Too often it hastens to become a passion. It is pain-
44 THE NEW RELIGION.
fully evident that men everywhere are too much engrossed by it. Men do not seek to acquire prop- erty with a view to its proper uses — its ''natural end,'^ though, contrary to all reason and philosophy, they make it the end. The strife for gain is altogether out of proportion with its possible legitimate uses. The instinctive love 'of gain, beautifully adapting the parent and the citizen to his own needs and the needs of others, has become avarice — a remorseless passion, and constitutes the characteristic activity of mankind. It is always crying more and more, with insatiate vehement desire. It has caused the most general and the most excited and prolonged struggle that has ever taken place in this world. What means this running to and fro? What means the storm and thunder of rushing wheels and roaring furnaces — money, money, for purposes good or bad? Mammon, in the world's Pantheon, is the one God, which, more than any other, receives the homage of the human heart.
And the blighting effects of this idolatry are terrible. It saps and dwarfs the whole intellectual and moral nature. It beclouds conscience, dries up sympathy, perverts desire. It captures and binds the will and hurls its miserable victim into one hot pursuit of gold, leaving him a wretched miser, a crazy fool, an object of scorn and pity.
Pope sketches him:
"I give and devise," old Euclio said,
And sighed, "My lands and tenements to Ned,"
ANTHROPOLOGY. 45
"Your money, sir?" "My money, sir, what, all? Why, if I must," then wept, 'I give it Paul." "The manor, sir?" "The manor! hold!" he cried, "Not that! I cannot part with that," and died.
From him whose unerring reason and conscience guide him steadily to the proper use of money, and restrain the exercise of his powers to their "natural end,'" we have every degree and shade of parsimony and avarice, down to the hardened wretch who, on the altar of his insane idolatry,
"Sacrifices ease, peace, Love, faith, integrity, benevolence, and all The sweet and tender sympathies of life."
The second consideration requiring notice in this connection, is the perishable nature of this affection.
Whatever may have been the development of the passion for gold, and however it may have swayed the will and engrossed the life, it will end, and cease to be, with the present life.
In the foregoing pages it has been assumed, and illustrated somewhat, that two natures combine to constitute man as he is in the present life.
It is now time to note that one of these natures, the lower, has relations only with this world and can- not survive the grave. It is of the earth, earthy. It is adapted to the present sphere of life and environ- ment, and to this only.
Appetite and taste, and, not less, the love of gain, have their uses and appropriate functions, but they belong to the mundanq lif^. ^^Flesh and blood can-
46 THE NEW RELIGION.
not inherit the kingdom of God." We know they do not. They go into the grave and remingle with the earth. In the process of eternity they may again start into organic Hfe; but never again in connection with the spirit that has outgrown them, and gone to its w^ider destiny.
How much, soever, or how little, the lower instincts and sensibilities have added to the sum total of human life, at death their mission ends, and henceforth they can exist only as a memory. Indeed, it is well known that some of them cease before death.
'^When I was a child," says Paul, ^^I spake as a child, but when I became a man I put away childish things;" and all men do the same. A noticeable change takes place in the co-ordination of life's forces, as life advances. The spirit lets go more and more of earthly interest as it takes hold more and more of the heavenly. Not infrequently, the old, on looking back upon their lives, see that they were once the sport of passions which have now lost their power, and wonder that they ever could have been so weak and foolish as they now appear to themselves to have been.
And none of these lower affections will more cer- tainly cease their functions, for want of an object, than this love of money.
But what then? He who has done little else in this world than to hunt gold — what of him?
If we grant th^c ^ne has honestly devoted his ener- gies to providing the means needful to life's best pur-
ANTHROPOLOGY. 47
poses, as he is bound to do, he must yet realize at the end of his world-life, a great change, not only in the circumstances and conditions of his life, but in the objects of it.
But he has not broken with the Divine order. He has not violated his conscience, or committed sin, in thus employing his powers. He has made the trip over the sea of his initial life without foundering upon breakers, and under the sunshine and the smiles of the Eternal, he enters upon the higher life beyond. '^Well done, thou good and faithful servant, thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many. Enter thou into the joys of thy Lord. ']
But suppose his love of gain has become an absorb- ing passion, and, going beyond the legitimate uses of property, he has devoted thought and care, and anxiety and exhausting labor — all, to getting gold, as an end, and this is what very many do, or, at least, seem to do — then what? At death he must instantly realize that his ^ 'first love" has died within him. The object for which he so habitually lived and struggled, is gone; and the disposition which made him capable of such damaging misdirection of his energies, now disqualifies him for his new relationships. He has foundered upon the sea of his mundane life, and the garnered treasures, the fruitage of all his care and toil, have gone down forever; and, stranded on the nether shore, what is he but a hopeless bankrupt in a foreign and inhospitable land. He has not laid up for himself treasures in heaven.
48 THE NEW RELIGION.
His acquired fortune may have been princely, and, left behind, it may prove a blessing or a curse — who can tell? But as to himself, he cannot bank upon it. Nothing of it remains to him but the memory of his great and damaging mistake, and the consciousness of a misdirected life.
'^How hardly shall a rich man enter into the king- dom of heaven/'
I feel that I shall stand Hence forward in thy shadow. Nevermore Alone upon the threshold of my door Of individual life I shall command The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand Serenely in the sunshine as before, Without the sense of that which I forbore — Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land Doom takes to part us leaves thy heart in mine With pulses that beat double.
— Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
CHAPTER VIII.
Sexual Love.
We have been climbing up through the lower nature of man. Let us put foot upon the last round and mount to the heights of his world life.
The normal relations and character of man, in his present state of being, cannot be regarded as com- plete, without the co-ordination and adaptation of male and female, and the interplay of those delicate and charming sensibilities, which characterize, at least, the reproductive period of human life.
The subject is a delicate one, and for this reason, perhaps, has not received the attention of the writers on moral philosophy which its ethical importance demands.
The legitimate indulgence of the sexual passion is sanctioned by all the powerful considerations that influence men to cherish and cling to life as a price- less boon.
If life is worth living at all, its inherent worth and blessing must equal the sum of all that is good in life, as the fountain includes the stream. And who does not realize it to be such? Who would not quickly give up all, to save his life. ^'AU my possessions for an inch of time," said the dying queen.
52 THE NEW RELIGION.
But, if to become a conscious being, endowed as a human soul, be such a Divine consummation, how should we pause with reverence before those who are charged with the duty and the responsibility of reproducing and perpetuating the race. They are trusted with the dangerous power of executing the Divine will, and with what humble and prayerful solicitude such a trust should be accepted! — with what conscientious fidelity and singleness of purpose should such high prerogative be exercised!
The duty, in a sense at least, is Voluntary, and, will not such solemn responsibilities be declined? No. The passion of sexual love is instinctive — an intuition, and maintains such power over the will, and so subordinates conflicting motives, as to secure and w^arrant the acceptance of the trust, with its responsibilities.
Whatever may be our religion or our philosophy, we can hardly doubt that it was made the duty of man to ^ ^multiply and replenish the earth," in order that it may be ^^full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea." This consummation has never been achieved, at least so far as we know. The earth has never been filled to its capacity with human beings.
The number of people in Belgium to the square mile in round numbers, is 484, while the average population per square mile in the whole of Europe, Asia, Africa, on the American continent, and
ANTHROPOLOGY. 53
Australia, is but sixteen — the average of the ''Dark Continent/^*
With the proper facilities for the exchange of the products of one section of the earth with those of another — ''free trade and sailors' rights," there can be no doubt that the limit actually attained in Bel- gium, and closely approximated in other countries, could be greatly surpassed, and the fears entertained by Malthus, of a disastrous surplus and excess of population, may well be considered groundless.
In accord with this evident need of multiplying and replenishing the earth, the instinct of sexual love is born into the race, and has its legitimate and sacred functions — its beneficient and far-reaching purposes, pure and holy in the sight of God.
But alas! in the face of such proofs of these divine and solemn appointments, what do we behold!
The race has indeed been reproduced and main- tained through the long ages, and for some hundreds of years has been slowly augmented, but the fore- going figures go to show how slow the process of
*Dr. Strong, in his valuable work entitled "Our Coun- try," gives the following: "According to recent figures there is in France a population of 188.88 to the square mile; in Germany, 216.62; in England and Wales, 428.67; in Belgium, 481.71; in the United States, not including Alaska, 16.88. If our population were as dense as that of France, we should have, this side of Alaska, 537,000,000; if as dense as that of Germany, 643,000,000; if as dense as that of England and Wales, 1,173,000,000; if as dense as that of Belgium, 1,430,000,000" — a population equal in numbers to that of the whole earth.
54 THE NEW RELIGION.
filling up the earth to its capacity has been. Man^ misdirecting and abusing his high prerogative, has miserably failed to work into the larger purposes of the Creator. If we may accept the Hebrew Canon as reliable history, the race, once at least, closely approached entire extinction.
That nature's order and purpose have not been respected and maintained, no one can doubt. Here, as elsewhere in the affectional nature, misdirection and great disorder prevail. The sexual passion has run riot into all conceivable and damaging excesses, and under conditions wholly incompatible with the proposed reproduction and extension of the race. In its revolting history it has furnished proof of the deepest and foulest depths of human depravity, any- where to be found among men. Its seething corrup- tion is to be seen in all lands — its foul presence may be traced through the ramifications of society and into almost every household. Alas for poor misguided humanity! ^Ts there no balm in Gilead — no physi- cian there? Why, then, is not the hurt of the daugh- ter of my people recovered?"
But, granting all that can be said of sexual love — its divine appointment and sacred functions, and, bewailing its measureless misdirection and abuse, we must not fail to note its destiny. It is of the lower nature of man, and belongs only to the world life. Whether it has sweetened or embittered the life, or, added much or little or nothing to the sum total of its realizations, ^tis all the same — it cannot survive the
ANTHROPOLOGY. 55
grave, except as a memory. In the divine order of things, it has served its purpose. It was appointed to preside over the reproduction and extension of the race. It walked hand in hand with the highest pre- rogatives and most solemn responsibilities, and shed its fascinating light upon life's pathway. How beau- tiful in its appointed ministries! How sacred and God-like its functions and its fruitage!
But, with the mundane life it goes. The undying spirit, emancipated from its grosser environment, is also relieved henceforth, from the responsibility of reproducing and extending the race of mankind. It has outgrown the limitations of its initial stage of being, and leaps into the larger life and liberty of angelic being. Happy, thrice happy, he whose world life has filled its mission, and to whom it shall be said in the end, ^^Well done."
^^In heaven they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God."
All these merely biological forces lie within the sphere of the perishable life. They have relation to time, and space, and opportunity. Their purposes are served here and now. But the higher powers — reason, conscience, the affectional nature (exclusive of merely instinctive animal affection), and the will — are not limited by time or space. None of tnem have special or enforced limitations to the present state of being.
If one then give himself up to appetite, to sexual love, to the passion for gold, to any or all of the mani-
56 THE NEW RELIGION.
fold but shortlived and fugitive pleasures of the sen- suous nature, let him know that he is living the life of the beast that goeth downward to the earth. '^If thou sow to the flesh, thou shalt of the flesh reap corruption."
But, if one will assert his manhood, covet the eter- nal verities, consecrate himself to the pursuit of knowledge and truth, to obedience to the behests of conscience, to the blessed ministries of pure and holy love, then let him know that he is treading already the highlands of the life imperishable — that he is liv- ing the life of a man whose spirit goeth upward — ^^If thou sow to the spirit thou shalt of the spirit reap life everlasting."
^^Be not deceived. God is not mocked. Whatso- ever a man soweth, that shall he reap."
CHAPTER IX.
The Higher Nature. Intellect,
For the purposes of our inquiry, we may adopt the classification of man's power usually made by men- tal and moral philosophers — three classes: (i) Intellect, (2) Sensibilities, and (3) Will.
By intellect, let us understand, his thought-power. To it belong intuition, perception, reflection, compari- son, inference or deduction; or, as including all these, reason.
Let us adhere to our method, and compare the matter-of-fact man, as we see him in society, with our ideal of a perfect man, with a view of defining his imperfections as closely as may be. This done, we shall, perhaps, be able to estimate the value of the remedies that have been proposed for his bet- tering, and to determine* which of these seem best adapted to his needs.
^^Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace."
We shall soon discover that man is defective in his thinking power — has less ability, and knows less, than he was intended to have and to know, on any theory of his complex and high-born nature.
58 THE NEW RELIGION.
At his best, he can know but comparatively little of the knowable. ' ^Man is not the measure of all things, ' ' nor was he made capable of becoming omniscient. The mere fact that he is ignorant of some, or of many things knowable, must not be charged to his imperfection. If, as a thinking being, he fulfills the purpose of the Creator, we must account him perfect. But evidently the wisest do not know as much as they ought to know for their own good; and this much, we may assume, it was intended men should know.
We know very well that the five senses, upon which men must rely in setting up the business of life,^ is not always reliable. The sources of error open up with the very first movement of thought, and under every form of fascinating illusion, they are found along all life's pathways.
It were a blessed thing if men could see eye to eye always and everywhere, — if every effort made to know the truth were made in the right direction — were to accord with and aid every other such effort and prove successful. But they are not so made.
All classes of men give sufficient proof of intel- lectual anaemia. Philosophers studying the same- phenomena, arrive at the most diverse conclusions. In metaphysics each delving student appears to every
other in
"Wandering mazes lost."
Theologians, assuming to be taught from above, and
holding the torch of divine light in hand, grope
I. Leibig.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 59
their way, it would seem, very much as other men, through the dark, and differ from and fight with each other, to the shame of humanity.
The diversity of opinion and theory among men is bewildering. Shall we decide with Darwin or Agassiz, Hall or Tyndal, McCosh or Herbert Spencer? Who approaches nearer the truth, the laughing or the weeping philosopher? Plato or Epicurus, Aristotle or Bacon, Hobbs or Hegel, Des Cartes or Locke, Berkely or Condilac? What theories have come only to testity to the weakness of human reason, and the futility of speculative thought? What absurd myths and dogmas are yet enshrined in the canons of our most enlightened faith?
'^After 2,000 years of psychological pursuit," says Auguste Compte, ^^no one proposition is established to the satisfaction of its followers."^
The infirmity of the human reason has profoundly impressed the thinking men of all the ages.
An oracle had pronounced Socrates the wisest of the sages, and he humbly accepted the flattering imputation, saying, ^ ^Possibly it may be so, since I have discovered that I know nothing."
Anexagoras plaintively exclaims: '^Nothing can be known, nothing can be learned, nothing can be cer- tain. Sense is limited. Intellect is weak. Life is short."
Xenophon tells us that *'it is impossible for us to
I. Quoted by Pressense Origines, p. 6,
6o THE NEW RELIGION.
be certain even when we utter the truth." Par- menides declares that ''the very constitution of man prevents him from ascertaining the absolute truth." Empedocles affirms that ^'all philosophical and religious systems must be unreliable, because we have no criterion by which to test them." Democritus affirms that ^^even things that are true cannot impart certainty to us," that ^^the final result of human inquiry is the discovery that man is incapable of absolute knowledge;" that, '^if truth be in his pos- session, he cannot be certain of it." Pyrro bids us reflect upon the necessity of suspending our judgment of things, ^ 'since we have no criterion of truth." His followers were in the habit of saying, ''We assert nothing — no, not even that we assert nothing." Alcibiades denied both intellectual and sensuous knowledge, and, going beyond Socrates, publicly averred that "he knew nothing" — not "even his own ignorance."^
These dicta will be recognized as somewhat tropi- cal, and, perhaps, as having a touch of melancholy, but they fairly indicate the self-distrust and humility of all great thinkers. Arrogance and self-conceit in the presence of the conceded limits of human knowl- edge, may be accepted as good evidence of disgrace- ful shallowness.
That our knowledge has touched the truth at some points, or very nearly approached it, is proved by at
I. Drapers. C, p. 202.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 6l
least two facts: (i) As to the transmission of intelli- gence and certain forms of intercourse and com- merce it has practically annihilated time and space, and (2) It throws its light into the future, and enables us to know, with something of the prophets ken, what shall be in the hereafter. But at best our knowledge of the truth is confessedly but fragmentary. No candid scientist will claim for it anything more or better. The light that throws its rays into the future is dim and flickering. It does little more than to reveal the dense darkness in which we grope, and gives little assurance that human rea- son, at least in the present state of being, will ever be able to penetrate the dark depths of the unknown to any great distance.
But error, manifold, unblushing, stalks forth into the light at every turn, and the energies of one age are largely exhausted in correcting the damaging mis- takes into which its predecessor had fallen.
Man has his place in the order of nature, with an appointed sphere of activity, and within this sphere there is scope for the exercise of all his powers. The range of his five senses, by means of which he is put in communication with the external world, is short — a fact sufficiently indicative of the narrow limits of possible knowledge.
But even within these limits, we find him blunder- ing and blundering. *^His being's end and aim" he should know. He should be able to apprehend and appreciate the design and purpose of the Creator, as
62 THE NEW RELIGION.
they relate to himself, and affect his well being. He needs to know enough to keep him from adopting errors, and holding them for the truth — enough to enable him to perceive and appreciate the truth when presented — enough to keep him from falling into damaging mistakes — enough to make it clear to him what he ought to do. So much knowledge he evi- dently needs to qualify him for the duties and the privileges of life in the present state.
Upon a cursory view he seems very far from pos- sessing, or of even being able to acquire, so much; and yet we must believe that an all-wise Creator would endow his creature with such capacities to know, as would qualify him for his appointed sphere of activity, and adapt him to his environment.
What then? Are we to believe that the ignorance of men — their errors, their mistakes and consequent sufferings are necessitated — that somehow the Cre- ator has failed to endow his creature man with ade- quate ability to avoid mistakes and follow the right? Or shall we believe that something has interfered with the normal development and proper exercise of his powers — that some lapse has taken place?
The uniform adaptation of means to ends else- where in nature, seems to prove that the former of • these alternatives must be rejected. This is no world of chance, nor are all those who accept error for truth idiots, though we can hardly escape the convic- tion that the inherent intellectual power of the race
ANTHROPOLOGY. 63
is less, from some cause, than it was originally designed by the Creator to be.
However this may be, one great source of error and damaging mistake seems common to men.
It is matter of easy observation that men who make mistakes usually do so under the lead of some appe- tite or passion. It is almost a proverb, that what one does in anger he does wrong, and anger is not the only passion that sways the will, and leads him into error and wrong.
It may not be quite easy to say just how much rea- son is at fault, and how much undue passion is at fault, in any given case. One thing seems certain. Men of well regulated passions and good poise make comparatively few mistakes. And this is a fact of the greatest significance.
Suppose the appetites and passions were brought into normal and complete subordination, and held in perfect adjustment with the moral sense or con- science, by one who has done what he could to know the truth and the right, if such a case is supposable, would he be likely to fall into serious and hurtful errors, and jeopardize his well-being? Is it not indeed evident that the error often springs more from an undue influence of some inordinate desire or pas- sion than from want of mental power? Men always know better than they do, and the deficiency — the infirmity — seems not to be in the intellect, but elr-e where.
The intellect is handcuffed and rendered powerless
64 THE NEW RELIGION.
by over-heated passion, which sways the will and seeks to pervert the reason. It may be able to point out the way to the truth and the right, but it cannot command the passions, and it is passion — over-mas- tering desire — that drives the barque upon the break- ers and extinguishes the light which the intellect would otherwise throw upon the dangerous sea.
But more than this. There is much difference in the value of different kinds of knowledge — a fact not half appreciated by the ordinary seeker after knowledge.
Some knowledge, like the fruit of the tree of knowl- edge in the Garden of Eden, is ^^fair to look upon and good to make one wise." Some knowledge is absolutely worthless — some positively injurious.
Cramming the head with ill-assorted knowledge does not make one wise, but hurts more than it helps.
And here, precisely, lies the immense importance which attaches to plans and courses of study.
It should be the object of the school to impart wis- dom rather than knowledge. ** Wisdom is the prin- cipal thing." Knowledge otherwise really useful may be acquired, but, under the domination of some prejudice or abnormal passion, may fail to be useful. More frequently, however, some idle curiosity or dis- ordered affection leads to an utter waste of mental power.
Wisdom is the principal thing. It implies something of knowledge, it is true, but more; something of properly regulated sensibility as well,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 65
As we shall see more clearly further on, mental philosophers, following Socrates and Plato, have, in all the ages, exalted the intellect at the expense of the sensibilities, and the damaging fact stands out in all our systems of education.
Teachers have sought to communicate facts to their pupils — facts of language, of geography, geometry, astronomy, chemistry, philosophy. They have sought to impart knowledge, to stimulate inquiry, to inspire literary and scientific zeal and ambition, as if a knowledge of science were the chief good. To develop and cultivate the intellect is the one great purpose of the prolonged drill and discipline of the schools generally. '^Knowledge is power,'' and the young, ardent student, touched by this wand of Ithuriel, begins, anon, to dream of distinction. The ignis fatuus of some ambition beguiles him into the hot pursuit of knowledge as the one means of exalting life.
But, in the meantime, what has been done to develop a pure and holy love, and to bring the soul into har- mony with God and all that it is good — to secure that readjustment and equipoise of the affections, upon which, more than upon all else, a good and noble character depends? The sensibilities, and not the intellect, constitute the motive powers of life, and upon them, more than upon any mere knowledge, the character depends, whether it be good or bad.
To educate is to lead out; but within the soul tnere is more to lead out than thought power — the moral
66 THE NEW RELIGION.
sense, and other senses. The moral nature is to be developed and directed.
Besides, there is within a ^'bent to sinning,'* as all history declares, which is not to be led out, but rather to be restrained and held in check. Educa- tion must not be indiscriminate. If it be indiscrimi- nate you may develop a monster instead of a more perfect man. To curb this tendency to irregularities and excesses of conduct, to direct the developing affections to their proper objects, is infinitely more important than to develop the thought power. You need not fear. The reasoit is always fore^nost in the pathway of virtue. Men always know better than they do.
If you can restrain the nascent tendencies to vice, and direct sentiment to its proper objects, your edu- cation will be a success, though it should be less sparkling and brilliant in its intellectual features. It is rectitude that students need more than knowledge — a conscientious determination to do the right always and everywhere, semper et ubicunque. But what is it that determines rectitude? Will the mastery of science, as set forth in the college text books, secure rectitude? Some of the highest forms of intellectual culture make uncomplaining bed-fel- lows with the highest forms of vice. It was the bril- liant conception of Combe in his '^Constitution of Man," that the devil himself — say what 3'Ou will of his Satanic majesty — is but '^a mighty intellect broken loose from the restraints of morality. "
ANTHROPOLOGY. 67
If, theii; there be any force in these considerations, in all our schemes of education, such knowledge should be imparted to the learner, and such influences brought to bear upon him as will be most likely to awaken moral conviction and stimulate the moral sense, or conscience.
The limits of this work will not permit an attempt to specify in detail what these kinds of knowledge and influence are.
It will be granted that some kinds of knowledge have little to do with sensibility. They do not stir the soul or awaken feeling. They are ^^dry," unin- spiring, abtruse, and, for most students, difficult to acquire. Generally the recondite principles of abstract science and the various forms of speculative knowledge are of this character.
Such knowledge is suited and only useful to those who have a penchant for abstract and speculative science. It is neither suited to, nor useful to the masses, and hence should not be mcluded in any course of study and discipline mtended for the masses.
Obviously there are kinds of knowledge that relate more immediately to the sensitive and moral nature. I may mention —
1. Such knowledge as brings to light the benevo- lent designs and purposes of God in nature — his wis- dom, his active benevolence, his beneficence, his love.
2. Such correlative knowledge as discloses and
68 THE NEW RELIGION.
emphasizes the duties of men to each other, in their domestic, social and political relations in life — knowl- edge, if you please, that is rich in the fruitage of sen- timent and fellow-feeling.
3. Also such knowledge and such teaching, whether by precept or example, as tend to beget a pure and holy love, — love of the beautiful, the sym- metrical, the harmonious, the true, the good — such knowledge, and such teaching as would be best suited to bring out the strength and power of personal love with its beautiful and overmastering ministries.
We pretend to be Christians, and, with Nico- demus, we recognize one teacher ''come from God." We bow with veneration to his superior wisdom.
In the course of study and discipline through which he put his pupils, there was little attention given to speculative thought, little effort put forth to lead out or educate the thought power, except as it related to the further purpose of awakening the con- science, and securing a proper adjustment and bal- ance of the affections. But to accomplish this fur- ther purpose be devoted his most earnest attention and prolonged effort. He sought, with unflagging zeal, to bring men to a proper sense of their moral condition, to awaken true sentiment and fortify all the virtues — to bring the whole man, mind, heart and will into harmony with all that is good, that is^ with God. He saw what we should see, that the well-being of men, in all the relations of life, ^depends more upon
ANTHROPOLOGY. 69
the moral than upon the intellectual status, and this view determined the method of his school.
Such a school was a great novelty. Its like had never been known. It differed, toto coelo, from the Greek schools, then so popular. It differs scarcely less from the schools now in vogue, in which the classics, the higher mathematics and sundry accom- plishments make up the greater part of the course of study. Our schools are modeled after the fashion of the Pagan Greeks, more than after that of the Divine Christ, and they tend to produce the Greek character more than the Christian character. With the Greeks, we assume that the intellect is the chief constituent of human nature — the chief factor of human life and destiny. But the great teacher whom we nominally venerate, more philosophical, more correct in his estimate of the character-forming power of the sensi- bilities, and more clearly apprehending the disci- plinary needs of the soul, addressed himself to the development and proper direction of the affectional nature.
And in this he succeeded — succeeded as no other teacher ever did succeed — not by formal teaching so much as by his manner of life. He it was that more and better than all others let his light shine. If the range of ideas was comparatively narrow, it had altitude and depth. If his words and his thoughts were few, they were ^^words that breathed, and thoughts that burned.''
His estimate of the worth and high destiny of men,
70 THE NEW RELIGION.
even the lowest and the meanest, his impartial, exhaustless love for the race, his heart of sympathy and helping hand, his self-abnegation and ready sac- rifice of himself for the good of others, these all appealed to the heart and made him the exemplary and master-teacher of mankind.
Can any one doubt that were the humility, the freedom from selfishness, the love and sympathy, of this unique and wonderful teacher, carried into our schools by the teachers, can any one doubt that they would speedily work great changes for the bet- ter? Would students then come out of school so short-sighted, so engrossed with the vanities of life? Would they graduate with the self-conceits and shal- low ambitions now too often characteristic of the col- lege '^graduate? "
Let me not be misunderstood. It is not urged that there is not enough ' 'religion" taught in the schools — not that.
The religious sense is an intuition, an instinct, and will develop parri passu with the affectional nature. The religion that is taught is mere superstition, and bears the fruits of superstition.
But, give us the method and teaching of Jesus in our schools, and we shall see the fruits, not in temples and pagodas, not in towering cathedrals, not in the increase of cloistered Monks, not in the multiplication of rites and ceremonies, and much ado in matters of religion, for he favored none of these things. But we shall see among the educated more beautiful, Christ-like char-
ANTHROPOLOGY. 7I
acters — a diviner morality in private, and social and public life — a morality that will not fail to flower up into religion and intelligent worship. Let the aims and purposes of this Gallilean school of thought — so different from the Greek — become the aim and pur- pose of all the processes of education, and we may hope — and this is the point I make — the time will come when knowledge and virtue will walk side by by side, when humility and love will replace ambition and selfishness, when wisdom more than knowledge will characterize the graduate, and when the merely sensuous and perishable shall cease to be the princi- pal object of life and effort.
We shall then have less occasion to charge disability and infirmity upon the intellect. The ^^bent to sin- ning" so noticeable among the affections, affects the thinking power, and precipitates men into mistakes and errors, which they would avoid were the passions properly adjusted and the whole man brought into normal equipoise. Ignorance is not the evil so much as mal-adjusted sensibility, to which we must now turn.
CHAPTER X.
The Higher Nature. Sensibilities,
And here we enter a realm more maiarious and dis- ordered, no doubt, than that of the intellect proper.
Plato represents the spiritual powers that consti- tute man as three souls — a thinking soul, an appe- titive soul, and a courage soul — the intellect, the sensibilities, the will.
Elaborating this classification, he sets up their relative position and importance, in the spiritual hierarchy, under the figure of a driven chariot, the thinking soul mounted in the seat, holding the reins, the other two souls harnessed in as steeds — a figure which sufficiently indicates the prominence which he gave to the intellect. And it is especially noticeable how this fashion of exalting the intellect has prevailed, and yet prevails, among philosophers and theologians.
* ^Ignorance the evil, knowledge the remedy," has been a widely accepted dogma since the time of of Socrates, and may be found in the Old Religions as a dictum accepted long before his day.
Thought, the offspring of the intellect, is, indeed, first in the order of precedence, and is instantly
ANTHROPOLOGY. 73
necessary to consciousness; and this may account for the disproportionate importance attached to the thinking power by the philosophers. This same ten- dency to magnify the reason appears in rehgion, as the age-on-age struggle over creeds and heresies suf- ficiently proves. The theologian, while attaching prominence to speculative views, and correct creeds, has sought rather to exalt the will. He is wont to say, destroy sensibility, crucify the flesh — the will reigns and determines destiny. The tendency to asceticism has been strong in all religions, and it is the one intent and purpose of asceticism to subordi- nate sensibility, and even to destroy it from the soul.
This mad purpose has had its fullest development in the orthodox Buddhist, who feels it to be his duty not only to subordinate emotion and passion, but to overmaster and annihilate all desire, as the condition of entering into Nirvana.
Here and there a philosopher has united with the theologian in exalting the will.
M. Pressense praises Main DeBiron for his '^Theory cf Effort," by which, he says, this philosopher has introduced * 'liberty into the initial act of knowl- edge."^ According to Main De Biron, to think is to will, therefore the being whose existence is revealed by thought is not simply a reasoning being, as he is represented in the famous Cartesian motto, cogito,
I. Study of Origins, p. 91.
74 THE NEW RELIGION.
ergo sum, but is primarily a free-acting being in his initial existence.
It would be difficult to overstate, says Pressense, the service which Main De Biron has rendered to philosophy by his ^ ^Theory of Effort," which he him- self puts into this formula: ^^I will, I act, therefore I am."i
This conclusion is evidently born of an effort to fix upon man the entire responsibility of his conduct. But the theory assumes that to will is a simple psy- chological process, an assumption which cannot for a moment be admitted. What imaginable act of the will is possible without an involved thought and motive. The formula, I perceive, I feel, therefore I am, is nearer the truth, as I suppose, than either that of Des Cartes or of De Biron.
We are unconscious of many of our mental pro- cesses, as has been so well pointed out by Carpenter, and the first act of cerebration forcible enough to spring a distinct feeling, is the one that begins to awaken consciousness. The thought could not be known but for the attendant feeling. The thought and feeling combined give rise to consciousness, and the rawakened consciousness cognizes all acts and states of the ego which enlist sensibility and no more.
Sensibility is the condition precedent and neces- sary to conscious existence, and any theory either in
I. Ibid., p, 94.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 75
philosophy or religion which subordinates sensibility, is seriously and fundamentally at fault.
In the order of sequence we have first, indeed, thought, then sense, then volition; and, if Plato's driver could keep his seat and hold the reins, it might do; but we know that, in actual life, passion dethrones reason, and, seizing the reins, drives the chariot whithersoever he will, and the will, making the best of the usurpation, tugs away at the traces.
Who does not know, if he will but reflect, that you cannot touch human experience at any point without touching some sensibility; and it is the pride and boast of true manhood that it is capable of those fine sympathies and lofty sentiments and aspirations which ally the soul to the divine, and go to make up the best type of life in the weakest and in the strong- est as well.
It is the province of the reason to perceive what is good, and right, and true; but, if upon such percep- tion there arise within no appreciation or delight — no approving or pleasure-giving sentiment — what significance could we attach to these acts?
^^We could easily imagine," says Mackintosh, '^a percipient and thinking being, without a capacity for receiving pleasure or pain. Such a being might per- ceive what we do; if we could conceive him to rea- son, he might reason justly, and, if he were to judge at all, there seems to be no reason why he should not judge truly; but, what could influence such a being to will or to act? It seems evident that his exist-
76 THE NEW RELIGION.
ence could only be a state of passive contemplation. Reason as reason can never be a motive to action. It is only when we super-add to such a being sensi- bility, or the capacity of emotion, or sentiment, or desire or aversion, that we introduce him into the world of action."^
The spiritual movement is largely independent of the will. The sight of one suffering, especially if he is known to be innocent, and rudely imposed on, excites pity, nolens volens, and what is true of this form of sensibility is true of others under suitable conditions. What significance indeed, or what value could life have, if we except those pleasurable sensa- tions that constitute happiness.
What shall we say then of Sakya Mounie, of Plato, of Zeno, and the rest, who regard sense as an element of disturbance, and a curse! What shall we say of the thousands and the millions of ascetics who have sought to quench sensibility as something antagonistic to spiritual perfection, purity and happiness!
Giving to the several senses then their due promi- nence as factors of life, how shall we classify them?
The philosophers are not agreed upon any classifi- cation—a fact which goes to prove that no mental or moral science proper exists; for science rests upon undisputed data.
In the first place, there is no agreement as to the
I. See Haven's Mental Philos., p. 532,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 77
naming or nature or relative rank of the various forms of sensibility.
And in the second place the various forms are treated as heterogeneous elements, and classified without regard to their cognate relations.
The briefest review will verify these statements.
As there is but one source of thought, and all kinds of thought, wise or foolish, great or small, new or old, the most eccentric and the craziest, spring from the same fountain, the intellect; and, as the will is one, while exercised in every direction and applied to every conceivable purpose, now driving the victims of rage to deeds of daring and death, and now execut- ing the beautiful ministries of love, so also the affec- tional nature is one. It is a unit and not a medley.
The kaleidoscope, filled with a mass of heterogene- ous elemental forms, is ready, at every turn of the instrument, to exhibit new and ever varying figures, as a kind of chance may determine. But the affec- tional nature is not a kaleidoscope. The affections are of kin — belong to the same family, however seem- ingly different and even antagonistic they may some- times appear to be. They are homogenous, and take on different forms and characters only as they are sprung by different causes and appear under different conditions.
Under the head of this thought we shall find that love is the stock and parent sensibility.
But it has never been recognized as such by philosophers,
78 THE NEW RELIGION.
According to the academicians, the emotions are included under four principal ones, to- wit: Fear, desire, joy and grief, and were regarded as generically different — no recognition of love.
Among the moderns. Hartley divides the sensi- bilities into grateful and ungrateful.
Since gratitude is clearly one form of love, we may give Mr. Hartley credit for approaching, at least, a recognition ot love The English writers, says Mr. Haven — from whom principally I am condensing this account — the English writers derive all emotions from three principal ones, to-wit. Admiration, love and hatred. Here we have love as one of three elemental constituents, generically different.
Whewell finds two — love and anger. He approaches simplicity and recognizes love as dividing with anger the realm ot sense.
Calderwood finds three — desires, affections, judgment.
Mahan finds appetites, emotions, affections, desires.
Other classifications could be quoted, but these may be considered representative, and will suffice. They show at least that there is no agreement as to classification. They show that the several forms of sensibility are regarded as ^^original and distinct ele- mentary piinciples.'* They are expressly so claimed by Mahan, and hence there is no recognition of kin- ship in their nature. They constitute a medley.
They show that there is no agreement as to their relative rank or degree of prominence in the moral
ANTHROPOLOGY. 79
constitution, and finally they show, and this is our point, that the passion of love has no adequate recog- nition as a predominant and governing sensibility in human nature.
Hartley, Stewart, Upham and Hav^en agree sub- stantially, in finding malevolence, ingratitude and hate in the mental constitution; while Mahan admits, without any attempt at psychological analysis, a ^ 'moral depravity, in which affection is turned to hate, by crime in the subject."
It seems positively inexplicable that the greatest agreement amoi^g these authors should be in holding the greatest error; especially as they are all Christian authors, and familiar with the Christian religion; for, what could be wider of the truth than to suppose that the all-wise and benevolent Creator placed ^'malevo- lence/' ''ingratitude" and "hate" in human nature, as original and distinct elementary principles?
Is man made in the image and likeness of God, a medley of good and bad elemental constituents, "original and distinct,'^ so distinct that "neither can be resolved into another, nor can they all be resolved into a common principle?"^ The theory is incom- patible with what we know of the benevolent pur- poses of the Creator — the order and perfection of his works.
It remained for Jesus, the divine "Son of Man,'* who has shed such a flood of light over every field of
I. Mahan.
8o THE NEW RELIGION.
our moral nature, to disclose the true nature of man, to reveal his moral constitution, which, certainly, was very differently and very imperfectly understood by all his predecessors.
At his coming, he was announced as the ^ ^savior" of men, and as such he must comprehend the depths from which they were to be rescued.
To save men he must understand and appreciate their needs, and respond to them. He must bring to light such a knowledge of their moral condition, and effect such a readjustment of it as salvation implies.
Accordingly, first among philosophers, and first among teachers of religion, he taught us that the pre- dominant and characteristic sensibility of the Father in heaven is love, and that, as love dominates the Father, it should dominate his offspring.
Christian, or Infidel, we must acknowledge that the passion of love has ever played a great role in the drama of human life.
The child is born and bred under its hallowed bene- dictions. It crowns and blesses the hymenial altar. It presides over the home and sweetens all domestic relations. It is the messenger of sympathy and help to the suffering and needy. It is the inspiration of all that is good and noble and true among men. It sways all hearts and makes the soul akm to God. All this we know and believe.
Jesus exalted love as no one ever did before him, as if he regarded it as the prolific fountain whence flows every virtue — every form of sensibility.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 8l
In accord with this teaching it will be found that a true psychological analysis will show that the divine affection is also the human affection, at least when the soul is holding normal relations with the order of nature.
It is evident enough that joy and grief and pity and fear, etc., are derivatives of love. Love existing, we have only to change the conditions and circumstances of life and we have any one and every one of the others. But without love we could have none of them.
Hate is the very opposite of love, and least likely to be found having any kinship with it of any that could be named. And yet, if we will but reflect a little, we shall see that hate is the product of love as the shadow is the product of light.
If you love the true, the right, the good, you must hate the false, the wrong, the evil, and the intensity of the feeling of hate will be in proportion to the realized feeling of love. ''Ye that love the Lord hate evil." There is, according to Solomon, a time to love and a time to hate, and the old prophet commands us to *'hate the evil and love the good.' To do so, but indicates a normal and proper state of the affections.
If you are in warm sympathy with the good, and an object appeals to your affections which appears to be good, it will excite your love; and the closer you come to it, and the more you are interested in it, the greater will be your love.
Bui, on the other hand, if it should appear to you
82 THE NEW RELIGION.
as mean, wicked, false, corrupt, devilish, it will excite the same holy feeling, but now it will not appear as love, but as hate and disgust; and the keener the sense of good, the keener will be the sense of evil. Hate is but the reverse side of love. If we could suppose that one were completely indifferent to both good and evil, it is plain that then he could feel neither love nor hate. True hate is but true love, conditioned by the presence of evil and wrong.
Dr. Calderwood, who seems all at sea in his classi- fication of the sensibilities, is nevertheless a very close and critical observer of mental phenomena. He says:
^ ^Affections take the form of love or hate, according as the objects of them are esteemed in any sense, good or bad, and the form of reverence or pity, as their objects are esteemed superior or inferior in nature and experience.-'^ Here we have a recogni- tion of the fact that the transformation of the sensi- bilities, through external causes and conditions, is possible. If the affection known as love can become reverence or pity, and especially if it can become hate — a form of feeling at the farthest remove from love — then it may, under suitable conditions, take the form of any other sensibility.
If you pass a current of electricity through nitrogen gas, you get a pinkish, purple color^ pass it through carbonic acid gas, and you get a green color; pass it
T. Handbook Moral Philos., p. 155.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 83
through hydrogen, and you get a violet color; but pass it through oxygen and you get a peach-blossom tint. Precisely the same current produces all these different colors, which thus vary with the conditions under which they are exhibited.
Thus the parent affection becomes now joy, delight, or now grief, anger, jealousy or even hate, in the presence of conditions which give it form and color; and the so-called '^malevolent passions,'^ con sidered as '' original and distinct elementary princi- ples^*^ disappear from the human soul.
If one's love be what it should be, as enjoined in the great commandment, all its derivatives will be what they should be, and we shall behold the perfect man whose end is peace.
So from the heights of will
Life's parting stream descends, And, as a moment turns its slender rill,
Each widening torrent bends. From the same cradle's side,
From the same mother's knee, One, to long darkness and the frozen tide,
The other to the peaceful sea.
—O. IV. Holmes
CHAPTER XI.
The Higher Nature. The Will,
Of the intellect we have predicated something of infirmity; of the sensibilities, more. What now of the will?
Considering man in his normal relations as a crea- ture of God, what are the functions of the will? If disease and disorder have affected his volitional nature, how? What is the proof of it, and what is the remedy?
Definitions of the will are numerous and various, but they do not help us to a very clear conception of the functions of the will proper.
By something like general agreement, the will is that faculty or capacity of the mind which enables ur to prefer or choose between two or more object^.. This definition is, perhaps, good enough as far as it goes, but certainly it is far from complete A full- blown act of the will is not merely subjective. It has in it something of objective activity It moves muscles — does something.
Dr. Haven says, '^the will is but another name for the executive power of the mind.''
To execute means to carry into effect, but, as the
86 THE NEW RELIGION.
mind*s executive, what does the will carry into effect? The concept involves an object. What is it?
Dr. Calderwood says:^ ''The will is a power of control over the other faculties and capacities of our nature, by which we are enabled to determine per- sonal activity. "
But evidently the will does not, and cannot control the other faculties and capacities of our nature. It cannot stop the processes of thought, nor always hold them to the desired object. It cannot arrest the flow of feeling, nor determine its kind. It cannot com- mand the storm of passion to cease, nor change sor- row into joy. Both the intellect and the sensibilities, under circumstances, at least, reject the control of thej will. Its power to determine personal activity is, therefore, at least limited.
In common parlance the will is that power which moves muscles and brings things to pass.
Our consciousness attests the fact that some form of sensibility — a feeling which is usually known as desire — precedes every act of the will and constitutes the motive to action. We desire to have or enjoy something, and this desire causes us to put forth efforts to obtain it. Following perception or thought, there springs up emotion, passion — some form of sen- sibility, pleasurable or painful — and this begets a desire with corresponding action. Of this order and process we are ceitainly conscious. We all love the
I. Handbook Moral Philos., p. 165.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 87
truth. You perceive, we will suppose, a possibility of discovering some truth. Your love for the truth begets a desire which prompts to action. Or again, one acts from a sense of duty. Now, what are the facts? The intellect or reason perceives what is right; this awakens in the moral sense — conscience — a feeling of obligation to go forward. The will responds to the feeling, and the duty is performed.
Do you say one does not always act from a sense of duty? The mental process is the same. A per- ception of possible pleasure — it may be forbidden pleasure — awakens desire to enjoy and this becomes a motive to action. The will responds to the desire and seeks to realize on it.
The illustrations are brief, the thought easy.
It is then, we may now assume, the function of the will to respond to the claims of the several se7isibiliiies, including the moral sense, or conscience, of course, in the order of sensibilities.
But Mr. Haven says — and in this he agrees with other teachers — ^'We often desire what we do not will, and 7£//// what we do not desire."
He quotes the following from Reid: ^'A man athirst has a strong desire to drink, but, for par- ticular reasons, he determines not to gratify his desire. A judge, from a regard to justice and the duty of his office, dooms a criminal to die; from humanity and particular affection, he desires that he should live. A man, for health, ma}^ take a nauseous draught for which he has no desire, but a great aversion."
88 THE NEW RELIGION.
To the same effect he quotes from Locke: ^*A man whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use per- suasion to another, which, at the same time I am speaking, I may wish may not prevail on him. In this case it is plain the will and the desire run counter."
And from Upham he quotes the case of Abraham offering Isaac, and the case of Brutus sacrificing his sons.
It seems very remarkable that these distinguished philosophers did not perceive that, in the cases given, there is one feeling or desire combating another. Each one has reasons or motives for doing what he did, while, at the same moment, he feels the force of reasons or motives for not doing what he did. A man athirst has a strong desire to drink. It will quench his thirst. It will make him feel good — give him a species of pleasure. These, perhaps, are the particu- lar reasons that urge him to drink. But he has also a desire to avoid the consequences of drinking — a desire to maintain his health and respectability — these, and other considerations, possibly, stand over against the appetite for drink, and he determines to act on the demand of his better nature. It is clearly a case of thirst for drink against the moral sense — of appetite against conscience. It is one kind of feeling against another — a feeling of thirst with its desire on one side, a feeling of duty with its desire on the other, and the will, always free to discuss the motives presented, decides against drinking.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 89
The same is clearly true in the case of the judge, in the case quoted from Locke, and in the cases of Abraham and Brutus, from Upham.
The cases are one in their teaching. The case given by Locke is admirable for its concealed sophis- try. We have friendship on the one hand, pulling at the will, and a secret conviction, or sense of right, on the other, pulling at the will, in a contest that lasts during the effort to persuade, and friendship gets the better in the end.
On the very surface of all these cases, there are two kinds of feeling — one in favor of drinking, one opposed, one in favor of acquitting, one opposed, one in favor of taking life, one opposed, and, in all the cases given, excepting that from Locke, the desire to do the right prevails. ''Voluntas est quce quod cum ratione desiderat, ' '
It is the more remarkable that Mr. Haven should be betrayed into this oversight, since he had already said: ''Were there no feeling awakened by the intel- lectual process^ would there be any volition with regard to the object perceived?''^'^
But, if ^^preponderance of desire" settles the ques- tion, what becomes of the freedom of the will? The old question again to the front, '^Liberty** or ^^Neces- sity," which? Well, both. As to liberty, a Httle. As to necessity, much.
Brought into the world-life without his consent,
I. Moral Philos., p. 532.
go THE NEW RELIGION.
endowed with forces and tendencies which he cannot restrain, and appointed to a sphere of activity from which he cannot escape, man finds himself the sub- ject of hopes and fears which he cannot suppress.
Whether he takes his being under the scorching heat of the tropics, in the genial warmth of the tem- perate zone, or amid the eternal snow and ice of the arctics, is not a matter of choice, but of fate. Whether in Christian, heathen, or barbarous lands, is not choice, but fate. Whether as a giant or a dwarf, white or colored, whether an angel or an idiot, it is necessity.
Hunger and thirst come unbidden. Propensity and passion cry for indulgence and gratification, on pain of infinite suffering. Thought spins on, the fires of feeling burn on. Life's stream surges onward, and death awaits the helpless victim — It is yet necessity. But you say to this puny victim of necessity, do something — anything — help a man, or hurt a man, take this course or that course, and he will say to you, yes, I will think of it. You must. No, if, upon examination, I shall please, I will. But I will com- pel you. No sir, you invade my liberty — you cannot, I defy you — liberty.
Projected into being you find yourself in a world abounding with objects,, which stir your sensibilities, and promise possible gratification. There are many of these objects — hundreds, thousands of them. You are a stranger and know little of your position or pos- sibilities. You know not what will gratify you most.
ANTMROPOLOGV. 9 1
As yet, knowledge has developed no ''preponderant desire," and you are in doubt. But you are able to examine. You go through the field, turn things over, measure and weigh them. You come to believe that any one of a hundred things would give you pleasure. But one, or a few excite you most, and you choose, and act on your choice. The will, true to the law of its manifestation, responds to the preponderant desire. If you have been wise and chosen well, you have entered upon a course of life that will carry you out into all the beatitudes, and the very winds and waves will sweep you onward to a glorious destiny.
But if you have been unwise or perverse^ and have taken the wrong drift, you have entered a course which will plunge you over cataracts, and into whirl- pools, and your very liberty has become necessity as relentless as fate.
In the early dawn of experience — and every day he is in the early dawn of some experience — man knows little. A thousand things await his attention, his study, his choice.
Alas! He does not always come to the examina- tion unbiased. Through hereditary bias or other causes he does not see things in their true light, sees things as too large or too small, estimates things out of pro- portion to their value as factors of life. He is almost sure to fall into damaging mistakes and errors. Aye! under conditions, it is morally certain that he will choose the worse for the better course, but he makes his choice, and is conscious of a degree of freedom in
92 THE NEW RELIGION.
doing SO. What awaits him of good or evil will depend largely Upon the degree in which he has placed himself in harmony^ or out of harmony with the moral order of the universe.
In the early morn of your experience and in any stage of life, you need to go slow, walk circum- spectly; possibly you will need help, and a great deal of help which only the Heavenly Father himself can give, in making up your choices; and this you are free to seek.
If appetite or passion have bound you, and you find it impossible to resist them, then there is but one hope left.
A true contrition may break the power of sin, and so fortify your better nature, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, that your moral sense — your conscience — may yet assert and maintain authority over incompat- ible desires, and so give you back to love and to God. But nothings it is believed, but the ministry of suffer- ing and of love can save you.
If there were no moral disorder there would be no conflict of discordant passions, no choices of the worse for the better part, conscience would be supreme and the right prevail. But, as we have had occasion more than once to note, moral disorder prevails. The passions have become discordant. They sometimes antago- nize conscience. Singly, or combined in their influ- ence, they sway the will, and hold the fort against conscience; but the vice of the proceeding lies in the sensibilities — in the affectional nature — and not in the will so called.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 93
The theologian seems disposed to lay all that is wrong in human conduct at the door of the will. But, if the will is so supreme, how shall we account for the facts of history?
Every consideration that reason can suggest is in favor of doing the right thing — conscience, honor, happiness, the assurance that the way of the trans- gressor is hard; and on the other hand everything warns against the wrong — disgrace, shame, suffering and general wretchedness; the will is supreme, and of course the right will be chosen and the wrong eschewed.
But it is not. Some quenchless thirst or passion flames up, and for the moment so intensifies desire for gratification as to sweep the field of other motives, and carries the will against all the protests of conscience.
The appetites and passions do not depend upon the will for their peculiar force, and are not subject to its control. The stoics were in error. You cannot quench thirst and passion by a mere act of the will. The voice of conscience calling the soul to duty is hushed in the clamor of discordant passions, and life drifts away to sin and death.
Theologians and legislators have assumed that because the will is supreme men can be good, and, if they be not good, they should be punished and made good. They tell us that sin merits punishment, that justice requires it shall be inflicted, that men are cor- rupt, that some are so corrupt if they be not deterred
94 Jlil^ NEW RELIGION.
and restrained by fear of punishment, they will become intolerable.
This were more a gospel of hate than of goodness; and there are never wanting those who are ready with knout and bludgeon to inflict the punishment thought to be due to justice.
Do you suppose that the criminal deliberately chooses vice, with its penalty, against virtue, with its award?
For the moment, under the blinding storm of pas- sion, and half oblivious of the danger, and hoping, perhaps, he will in some way escape, he indulges his passion and realizes a temporary gratification. But he has not chosen vice on its merits. He has not chosen crime for the purpose of being a criminal.
The hope of some keen gratification just in sight leads him on. Conscience, and all the powerful con- siderations that could easily be adduced in favor of the right, fall into the background. The coveted pleasure, exaggerated out of all proportion, stalks to the front, and he grasps it. And then, when, alas, too late, dire consequences.
The theologian and the legislator say he is a rational being, and must be held amenable for what he does. Justice demands it, and, according to law, both in church and state, he is punished.
But this one act, or any dozen of them, does not exhaust the category of his qualities — does not reveal the man to the depths of his nature, and below there is something good. Under the given conditions he is
ANTHROPOLOGY. 95
morally certain to make foolish choices over and over. The degree of his guilt, for current action, is meas- ured by the part he has taken in establishing these con- ditions; but be this great or small, he is not to be punished by any human tribunal for it.
The assumed right to punish is a usurpation.
It is very true, indeed, that men are capable of becoming ^^desperately wicked." There seems to be, in certain cases, hardly any limit to the subsi- dence of the moral sense — hardly any to the suprem- acy of devilish passion. We know too well that men become outrageous — intolerable; but, for several reasons, you cannot punish them.
How much, would you say, should a given crime be punished? Say overreaching in business, or theft, or adultery, or murder?
No moral philosopher or casuist has attempted to say, because he knows not, and cannot know. You know neither how to proceed, nor how far to proceed with your punishment. No individual, and no state, for the state is but the aggregate of individual life, is competent to punish crime in the criminal. ^^Ven- geance is mine, and I will repay, saith the Lord.*'
Such means as may be found needful to protect society, will no doubt take the color of punishment, and may subserve the purposes of justice, but they are not to originate in a spirit of offended justice, and intent of retribution, but rather in the need and intent of self protection; and should always be tern-
96 THE NEW RELIGION.
pered with pity that any poor fellow-mortal could have been so misguided and unfortunate.
It has been observed that some wills seem *'weak/' and some '^strong.'* The great Napoleon, and others, for that matter, have been credited with having ^^iron wills.'* I know of no attempt to explain these phe- nomena on psychological principles. That they are significant, and demand the attention of the moral philosopher, will be admitted.
The views set forth in these pages furnish at least something of an explanation.
Amid the disorder and misdirection that prevail in the appetitive and affectional phases of human nature, the will yet performs its work as the exponent of life's combined and complex forces. Because the appe- tites and passions are not properly co-ordinated, the functions of the will are often embarrassed.
If the discordant sensibilities could be brought into habitual subordination to conscience, as they were clearly intended to be, there would be no failure, on the part of the will, to act promptly, and there could be no such thing as a ^'weak will.'* A strong will means such a co-ordination and concord of the sensibilities as will give a united and steady support to the ruling desire; while a weak will means such a mutual conflict and antagonism of the diverse emotions and desires, as to result in an unstable condition of the volitional status — a condition in which the least added motive will throw the balance of power to the clainis of appetite or those passions^ or haply to
ANTHROPOLOGY. 97
the claims of the moral sense, making them, for the time, available. Clear conceptions and accordant sensibilities make the strong will, but discordant sen- sibilities make the weak will. The will, however, remains the same responsive executive power, only less embarrassed in its volitions in the one case, and more embarrassed in the other.
We fail to find, therefore, that the Will, considered as one of the powers of man's higher nature, is so seriously at fault as current theories make it. It is no fault of the will that it cannot control the affec- tions and make life perfect. Emotions and desires, which constitute the motives to action, spring from antecedent thoughts — from ideals presented by the imagination independently of the will, but they never fail to make their claims upon it as the one power which alone can secure them gratification.
Let us, in conclusion, grant, however, that the damage and danger of sin might have been kept more in sight, that the attention might have been held more steadily and strongly to the incentives to right living, and that the obligations to duty might have been more warmly cherished and faithfully discharged; and, because these things were not done, when they could have been done, men often become helpless in the toils of sin, and are doomed to measureless suf- fering and woe.
Let us not exculpate the will-power from all par- ticipation in the infirmity of human nature. But, let reason do her part, and let the appetites and affections
gS THE NEW RELIGION.
be subdued to the rule of conscience, and we may not despair of the will. The remedies, if such are to be found, which will sufficiently inform the reason, and properly readjust and regulate the affections, will leave little to be done to make man perfect.
To fortify the moral sense, to strengthen the con- victions of duty, to intensify the feelings of obliga- tion, to so enshrine the ideal right, and good, and true, as to make the power and pull of conscience upon the will good against the pull and power of incompatible desires, — this is the desideratum.
It remains to be considered in future pages whether such a consummation is possible, and if possible, by what agencies and instrumentalities it is to be achieved. Can the fibre of resolution be nerved to such a mastery of tendency and temptation as to enable one, v\^ith possible divine help, to live life through, ever obedient to the purposes of the lovicg Ail-Father? We shall see.
It must be so, Plato — thou reasonest well,
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
Or, whence this secret dread and inward horror
Of falHng into naught? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
CHAPTER XIL
The Life Immortal.
If, in the foregoing discussion, any doubt has been raised as to the essential immortahty of the Higher Life, let us hasten to dispel it.
Every one knows, or at least believes, that he him- self is something different and distinct from his own physical organism. One limb after another could be cut away without consciously affecting the ego.
We cannot predicate of the physical organism the attributes of the spirit.
Thought and feeling do not spring from mere mat- ter, however highly organized. This is frankly con- ceded by all scientists. Though the mind seems to grow with the bodily structure, and sometimes to decline with it, exhibiting its greatest powers at the period of its greatest maturity, it may be demon- strated that this arises from the more perfect and better adaptability of the instrument to its purpose. The best artist cannot display his skill through an imperfect instrument, and it does not follow that when the instrument becomes useless the artist has ceased to exist.
A Kashmirian girl, it is said, will detect 300 shades of color, where the Lyonaise notices but one — so
I02 THE NEW RELIGION.
much depends upon the degree of perfection of the instrument employed.
^'Whatever analogy/' says Dr. Alexander Wilder, ^^may be maintained between the development of the psychic faculties, and the growth of the body, it does not, by any means, follow from such correspondence, that the soul did not exist prior to the bodily life, or that it ceases to exist upon the extinction of that life. Those who affect to doubt, or to deny, or to be unable to know, the existence of an immortal princi- ple in man, miserably fail to account for the higher experiences of human life, and sadly limit human hope. In the issue they have made between philoso- phy and nihilism, we have the chance offered us to look upward to God as our Father, or to wander from nowhere to nowhither — from the primordial chaos to the eternal abyss, loosing ourselves among molecules of material substances, with nothing whatever to appease any longing of the spirit. '^
Huxley candidly admits that ''when we appropriate all knowji chemical forces, we are yet at an enormous distance from that which constitutes life;" and Tyn- dall says, ''if a right-hand spiral spring movement of the particles of the brain could be shown to occur in love, and a left-hand movement in hate, we should be as far off as ever from understanding the connection of this physical matter, with this spiritual manifesta- tion." (Frag. Science, p. 120.)
The ablest scientists agree in admitting that, if you make up your compounds from all the ascertainable
ANTHROPOLOGY. I03
molecular activities, you involve nothing that will account for the weaving of the complex tissues of the living organism; and how infinitely will you fall short, then, of accounting for will power, for thought, for love and conscience, without predicating an indwelling spirit — super-material existence.
Bain has suggested that matter '^is a double-faced somewhat," having a spiritual and a physical side, and he has had, in this at least, a respectable follow- ing. But this forlorn effort to set up a man without a soul, breaks down on the threshold — can the same molecule be active and non-active, extensible and non-extensible, ponderable and non-ponderable? The involved implication is unthinkable.
Huxley, and all the great authorities in biological science for that matter, admit that life is the cause of organization, and not organization the cause of life. Just what they mean by life, does not plainly appear; but whatever it may be, if it exist before organization as a cause, it may exist after it as a cause-produc- ing energy. It is certainly plain enough that organi- zation does not begin all, since there must have been that which began the organization, and, if it do not begin all, how can it end all?
To account for human experience, we must postu- late an indwelling ego endowed with attributes that cannot be predicated of any form of organized matter.
And this ego is so imminent, pervasive and out- going that the human organism hardly limits it. Every one is sensitive to the contiguity of bodies
104 THE NEW RELIGION.
when groping in the dark. If we close our eyes and withdraw ourselves as much as possible from external disturbing influences, we easily see and feel, or rather realize what no sense gives us. It is said that Miss Fancher, of Brooklyn, when in her room, blind and paralyzed, would tell who was at the door of the house, and the routes which individuals were taking in the streets.
Swedenborg, we are told, had periods of trance, or apparent dying, in which his interior self was thought to be absent from the body, and in company with spiritual beings; and the great apostle to the Gentiles was once rapt into the third heavens, and declared he did not know whether he was in or out of the body.
If, then, the lower sensuous self fills up the meas- ure of its life, and dies, the higher self, distinct and independent of its physical organism, may not be involved with it in the disaster of dissolving nature.
The psychic man, with his power to perceive, to conceive, to reflect, to compare, infer, and to retain in memory, with his power to appreciate the beauti- ful, the true, the good, is capable of exploring all lands, and sailing all seas, and tasting all joys. His endowments qualify him for spirit relationship, and ally him to spirit existence, and make him an aggres- sive actor in the realm of spirit-life.
A man, even in this time-and-space-world, is not at his best when gratifying his sensuous nature. When thought is ranging over wide fields, when sentimen, is quaffing her nectar at all fountains, and the will is
ANTHROPOLOGY. IO5
gathering her fruits in all climes — then man is at his best.
The psychic life is unlike the mundane life, in that the latter fulfills its purposes and completes the cycle of its being in the present state, while the former has but entered upon a sphere of activity and cycle of being which is not and cannot be rounded up and closed in the present state.
'Tis not all of life to live, Nor all of death to die.
1. The attributes or powers which characterize the spiritual ego, if we except the will, are not dependent upon or limited by the physical organism for their activity and manifestation — they are purely spiritual — subjective.
The will is usually defined as the power of choosing or making a choice; and in this sense it, too, is purely subjective and unlimited by time and space relations. If the real ego is thus so above and independent of material conditions, and in all her activities and out- goings, we need not fear that any changes that take place in the realm of the physical will prove disas- trous to the spirit-life.
2. We have said that the sphere of man's activi- ties is not rounded up and completed in the present state of being. This is apparent on every hand.
(a) He has capacities for knowledge which spurn the limitations of time. When death comes to the oldest, he has not half exhausted his powers to acquire and to know more. He is always cut down before he has
Io6 1HE NEW RELIGION.
worked out and finished his problem. He loves knowledge, and drinks with glad joy at its fountains, but drinking does not lessen his thirst. It rather increases it and inspires him with greater zeal in its pursuit, and leads him to hope for larger gratifica- tion. Give him loo years, and he has but fairly begun to explore the enchanting fields that stretch away into the illimitable future, and with what quenchless yearning does he desire to go forward.
(b) What is true of his thought life is true of his affectional life. Here he gets, now and then, a glimpse of the truly beautiful, and he instantly feels that ^'a. thing of beauty is a joy forever. '^
But he is never sated, never has enough. As his knowledge extends and enlarges his vision, he sees more and enjoys more. Give him loo years and he still yearns for deeper draughts of this ^^joy forever," of which he knows he has had, in the present state, but a taste.
(c) Take love and friendship. What a heaven they open up in the soul. How they bless the home and society and the world. How they sweeten all life's pleasures. One hundred 3^ears of life fly away — have love and friendship grown old and wan? Have they lost their power to charm and to bless? Do they sate you? Can you believe that at the end of of your loo 3^ears, you will have done with them? that they will no longer be gracious and inspiring? A dear and cherished friend is taken away. Do you follow him to the grave and then willingly let him
ANTHROPOLOGY. IO7
vanish into nothing? Have your friendship an^^ your love also died? Or, rather, have they not already overleaped the barriers of time and gone to the immortal blessed?
(d) Take sympathy — fellow-feeling — which is indeed but another form of love. How sweet and beautiful and inspiring! Will it be less at the end of 100 years? Does it seem adapted only to a world where it is so checked and hindered by mistake and ingratitude? Could love, in all its forms, think you, find blessed ministries and fruition in the sun-bright clime
"Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest?"
(e) We talk of the ^ -feast of reason" and ^^flow of soul." The simile is a bad one. A feast is followed by satiety, and even nausea and disgust, if pushed too far. But the so-called feast of reason never palls upon the palate. You bless the glad moment when it begins. You could wish it might never end. Is it possible, think 3^ou, only in this world, where com- plete congeniality is a rare exotic, where greed and selfishness are always engendering bitterness and hate, and spoiling all such feasts?
As you drop out of your experience, more and more, the things that are of the ^^earth-earthy," and as you rise, more and more, into the things that are of the spirit-spiritual, how about the blessedness of these feasts of reason, say in the poet's ^^Land of Beulah?"
I08 THE NEW RELIGION.
Are they suited more to the real earth or the real heaven?
Buddhism to the contrary notwithstanding, a state of conscious-sentiment-throbbing-activity, is infi- nitety preferable to a state of unconscious rest. The difference is the difference between being and non- being.
We have had occasion to criticise the accepted definition of will, as a mere faculty or power of choice, in that, a preference or choice is but a condi- tion precedent to volition proper. A mere prefer- ence ends with itself, and does not bring things to pass, whereas a full-fledged volition employs means and moves things. In the present state, this moving things — bringing things to pass — is a difficult, much embarrassed labor; and to the extent that volition involves this labor, it is weighed down and hindered by the physical.
But, emancipated from this weighing and hinder- ance, it would execute and bring things to pass with the facility and rapidity of thought itself.
It would seem quite clear, then, that the sphere of the will's best activity lies more appropriately in the future and unembarrassed spiritual realm, than in the present physical realm.
3. But in connection with these beginnings of the Higher Life, and as demanding their continuous devel- opment, let us note that:
The Creator works by wholes, and not by halves or fractions,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 1 09
It is characteristic of the divine purpose and wis- dom to complete things. The seasons come and go, each in its appointed time — spring, summer, autumn, winter. Each fulfills its mission and passes. In the minute germ of the acorn we have the potency of the oak complete. The tree does not produce its fruit in halves.
Insect and animal life repeats itself, more or less quickly, but with substantial fidelity, through all their millions and myriads. The dove that flew from the ark of Noah, is the dove that sits and coos at your window. Each had its sphere of activity — its rounded life.
The world-life of man himself fulfills its functions and ends. Could he be reborn, all his appetites and propensities would repeat themselves to the hun- dredth generation. The animal organism is a won- drous microcosm. Within it are hundreds of appoint- ments, bones, muscles, nerves, organs, appetites, tastes, emotions, passions, each havmg its part to play, and each playing it part through to the end. There is nothing essentially wanting, nothing in essen- tial excess in all this co.nplex of wholes.
In the disorder and infirmity that prevail, affecting both the lower and the higher nature, we do indeed observe some deficiencies, some excesses; but these are clearly not in essence. They are not included in the ideal being. They are to be corrected. They do not inhere in the essence and nature of the human constitution,
no THE NEW RELIGION.
In the wide domain of nature there is nothing for- tuitous, nothing left to chance. There are no breaks nor disjoints. Everything is rounded up to comple- tion— has its mission and its goal.
But we have just seen that, as to man's higher life, the sphere of his possible activities is in no sense com- pleted in the present state. His knowledge is not complete. His affections have just awakened to con- scious activity. His will struggles in its fetters, and only waits for death to strike them off. On this high plane of being everything needs wider range and larger opportunity. Everything stretches away into the illimitable future for such range and such opportunity.
But, if death indeed end all, then what mean these inevitable, ghastly fractions of spiritual life? If death end all, why was the soul endowed with such powers of conscious adaptation to an endless future? If death end all, the power or capacity to acquire knowledge, to love the good and true, are cut down in their very spring-time — the joy of knowledge, the joy of love and sympathy are blasted in the bud.
It cannot be. All the analogies are against it. The divine wisdom and benevolence displayed else- where in nature, are against it. God works by wholes. He rounds up and finishes things, and the sphere of the higher life must be a whole; it ca^inot be a fraction. But a fraction it would be, and a very infinitismal cne, too, if death end all.
•'Know, all know, know infidels, unapt to know, Tis immortality your nature solves."
ANTHROPOLOGY. Ill
3. But there is another consideration of interest touching this subject.
The all-bountiful, benevolent Creator responds to all hungering and thirsting, to all legitimate desire and yearning.
And why not? Would it be a reasonable and right thing to do to implant appetites and passions, to beget hungerings and thirstings which could not be appeased? The eternal God is good, he would not do this. He is said to be love itself — that is, love is his dominant characteristic, his governing motive. But love could not sanction such an exercise of creative power.
Hunger is a keen sense of want and yearning for food. Is not food provided in kind, and supplied in abundance?
The beneficient Creator, who gave hunger, also gave food.
Thirst — how it cries for water! He who gave thirst also gave water to quench it.
Did not he who gave the eye give it light?
The blood coursing through every vein, and throb- bing in every artery, needs instant and continuous purification. It must have oxygen, on pain of speedy strangulation and death. Behold an ocean of atmos- pheric air yielding the needed momentary supply, through highly wrought and delicate instrumentali- ties, and sustained for 100 years, without the anxiety of a moment or the trouble of a thought on the part the creature.
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So constant is the response to urgent need and yearning, in all nature, that the evolutionist has found in the need itself, the provision for supply. The mole, born to live in the dark, needs no eyes, and has none. The eye speedily adjusts itself to more light, and to less, according to its needs. The stalwart elephant, built solidly up from the ground, needed a flexible proboscis with which he could collect his food from below and above, and in the process of evolu- tion a proboscis appears. The kingfisher needs a peculiar bill and neck and other adjustments to enable him to procure his food from beneath the water's surface, and nature responds with the needed outfit; and so on, throughout all realms of life, physi- cal and spiritual. The yearning spirit presides over and directs the building bioplast, determines the make-up and completes the adaptation to the envi- ronment and prepares for the exigencies of life.
Without being able to follow the evolutionist to his conclusion, we must grant that supply responds to need with so much regularity and certainty that it may be relied on as a law of nature, or a law of God, as you may please to put it.
This law is so well established in every domain of nature that, if you should realize an abiding legiti- mate want and desire for anything, you may feel sure that somehow, somewhere, the thing so desired will be forthcoming — that, whether you know it or not, the provision for appeasing such desire and want has already been made by the all-bountiful Creator.
ANTHROPOLOGY. I 1 3
All men yearn for continued life. And this yearn- ing is persistent and intense.
The love of life is the strongest passion of the human soul. Whether life is ^ 'worth living" or not, as some have questioned, it is clung to with instinct- ive, uncontrollable desire. To avoid death any sane man would quickly give up every other conceivable good. Every possible good is less to him than life, without which there could be no personal good. If death, then, is to end all, why this quenchless yearn- ing for continued life?
''The day-old infant goes straight to the breast where its nourishment lies. The panting roe hunts the water-brook. Even the sunflower turns to the sun. Are they deceived? A deeper impulse draws us. Shall we, of all things living, follow to find but a phantom — a fountain without water, a breast with- out nourishment, a sun without beams, a mirage of of illusive promise?"^
There is not a sentiment of man's nobler nature, whether it be the joy of being, the love of knowledge, the love of the good, the pleasure of friendship and the high pleasures of love itself, as manifested in the thankfulness and gratitude — not a capacity or power which, in its aspirations, does not overleap the limits of the world-life. A wider range and larger oppor- tunity, more light, and a less embarrassing environ- ment— how imperatively needed, if anything worthy of
J. Bishop R, L. Foster.
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his great powers is to be achieved. The wider realms of spirit-life stretch away into the illimitable, and every thinking soul yearns with inesxpressible desire to go forward to the higher passibifities wJiich await and wel- come his coming. Shall fruition be denied him? Have we found an exception to the law that reigns in all realms? Is this, the most impassioned cry of want, not to be heard? Is man, the noblest concep- tion of the All-Father, to come but to the birth and die?
It cannot be. The eternal law of God and nature is against it. Give us the life immortal and all 's perfect, all harmony — all means are suited to all ends. Human life is a benediction and a heaven possible.
As a matter of fact, all men have assumed the immortality of man. Without it, half his instincts and aspirations would be an inexplicable riddle. It is in all the philosophies, in all the religions, Egyp- tian, Brahmin, Buddhist, Roman, Greek, Judaic and Christian. There can be nowhere found a philo- sophical tenet or religious doctrine so generally accepted. And its disproof, were it possible, would fall as a pall of despair upon the race.
The conviction that the soul cannot die, though for the most part untaught, is so general that it must be regarded as an instinct — an intuition, as if the benevo- lent Creator had fixed this assurance in his children, to encourage and sustain them amid the breaks and disappointments of the present state, and enable them to trust in a better state of being, to which all
ANTHROPOLOGY. 1 1 5
questions of right and justice may be referred for final adjustment.
In view of such considerations, nothing, perhaps, could add to the strength of our convictions on this subject, except possibly an actual and properly authenticated resurrection from the dead. In the face of dissolving nature, and the ubiquitous reign of death, under which men live, it seems yet possi'Ble for men to doubt and shrink back. In the world* s history there have been few, probably, who could not have been helped by ocular demonstration of the fact of a resurrection.
If the claims of Christianity be granted — if tlie Evangelists have told us a true story, this demonstra- tion has been made. Jesus, the Christ, we are assured, actually raised Lazarus and others from the dead. He himself, ^^a son of man," was crucified, dead, and buried. His resurrection from the dead, so well attested in the face of doubt and determined opposition, demonstrated to visual sense and per- sonal consciousness, the fact that death does not end all, that it did not, at least, in his case. The Roman soldier was pitted against the angel, but was no match for him. The son of man ''led captivity captive."
*'He burst the bars of death, And triumphant rose."
I go, he said, in the tropical phrase of the East, to prepare a place for you. I am brother to you all. I
Jl6 THE NEW RELIGION.
ascend, as you shall hereafter understand jnore per- fectly, to my Father and to your Father, to my God and to your God.
Death does not end all. Man cannot be holden of death.
"The dewdrop slips into the shining sea."
— Light of Asia.
PART II.
THE OLD RELIGIONS.
CHAPTER XIII.
Historical Justice,
It IS a great error to suppose there is nothing good to be found in the Old Religions — that the ^ ^heathen/' whose degradation we so commiserate, are utterly vicious and corrupt.
They have been believed to be '^judicially damned/ ^^ and the theory that they cannot be saved from the horrors of an endless hell, without a knowledge of Christ, and faith in his atoning blood, has been the inspiration of the self-sacrificing missionary since the Council of Nice in the fourth century. Are not men saved by faith in Christ, and ''how can they believe on him of whom they have not heard?'*
The fact that under the moral and religious cultus ot the Egyptians, the Indians, and especially the Greeks and Romans, men made great progress in the
I. Watson's Theological Institutes.
Il8 THE NEW RELIGION.
arts and sciences, and civilization, before the dawn- ing of the Christian dispensation, is almost wholly ignored by very many of the votaries of the New Religion; and the truly pitiable condition of the lower and more ignorant classes of heathens, is taken as the exponent of all so-called heathenism and paganism.
A strange fatuity, it would seem, must affect men who can shut their eyes against the evidences of their high culture in philosophy, in government, in lan- guage, in art and science.
Their philosophical theories, their codes of morals, and their religions, respectively, give ample proof that the old masters of thought were profoundly sen- sible, as we yet are,* of the manifold imperfections of men, and they diligently sought how they might best be helped and saved.
That profound scholar and philosopher. Max Mueller says:
^'No judge, if he had before him the worst of crimi- nals, would treat him as most historians and theolo- gians have treated the (old) religions of the world. Every act in the lives of their founders, which shows they were but men, is eagerly seized and judged without mercy. Every doctrine that is not carefully guarded, is interpreted in the worst sense that it will bear. Every act of worship that differs from our own way of serving God, is held up to ridi- cule and contempt; and this is not done by accident, but with a set purpose. * * * The result has been *
THE OLD RELIGIONS. II9
a complete miscarriage of justice, an utter misappre- hension of the real character and purpose of the ancient religions of mankind; and, as a necessary conse- quence, a failure in discovering the peculiar features which really distinguish Christianity from all the religions of the world, and secure to its founder his his own peculiar place in the history of the world — far away from Vasishtha, Zoroaster and Buddha, — from Moses and Mohammed, from Confucius and Laotz. * * There are people who, from mere igno- rance of the ancient religions of mankind, have adopted a doctrine more unchristian than any that could be found in the pages of the religious books of antiquity — namely, that all the nations of the earth, before the rise of Christianity, were mere outcasts, forsaken and forgotten of their Father in heaven, without a knowledge of God, without a hope of heaven/'
^^If we believe,-' he continues, ^^that there is a God, and that he created heaven and earth, and that he rules the earth by his unceasing providence, we cannot believe that millions of human beings, all created like ourselves, in the image of God, were, in their time of ignorance, so utterly abandoned that their whole religion was a falsehood, their whole wor- ship a farce, their whole life a mockery."^
The conspicuous error of Christian people has been the assumption that heathens and pagans are so
I. Science of Religion, p. 102.
I20 THE NEW RELIGION.
utterly depraved and corrupt, that all improvement, without the aid of the Christian Gospel, is impossible.
The Virtue of Knowledge,
We have had occasion already to note how the intellectual powers have, all through the ages, been exalted and overestimated as factors of human experience; and, in accord with this persistent mis- conception, the efforts put forth for bettering human life were directed by the early masters, chiefly as they are even yet, to the cultivation of the intellectual powers.
The theory that makes ignorance the cause or source of all vice, has had long and wide acceptance. Socrates and Zeno emphasized this doctrine, but it was taught by the Egyptians, and became a tenet of Brahminism long before these great masters were born.
Socrates, especially, and with great force of argu- ment, insisted that if men did but know what is right, they would gladly do it. Often they know but imperfectly, if at all, what is right — more frequently they have considered neither the good that must spring from right-doing, nor the evil that must come from wrong-doing, in their respective and ever-widen- ing results; for, if they could see all and know all, there then would be found every motive for the one, and no motive for the other. Men prefer the right when they see it clearly in its beauty and blessedness — in its hallowed and far-reaching consequences, and
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 121
seeing it thus, they would be held to the practice of virtue as the needle tc the pole.
On the other hand, if men were even indifferent to the right, but could yet see and comprehend the wrong in its repulsiveness and dire consequences, it must fill them with aversion and horror, and effectu- ally prevent them from either practicing it, or con- senting to it. In deciding as to what is right and wrong in human conduct, one is not to simply follow custom and prescription. What accords with truth and justice — this, one's own moral sense sanctions as right, and hence, to determine the right, one must appeal to reason and his consciousness of the right, and follow his convictions.
This is substantially and briefly the argument of the great philosopher.
On this theory, of course, the ethical requirement is to educate, and by all possible means to enlighten men as to what is right in human conduct, and all this ado about ^ Sprayer" and ^ 'faith, "about moral sentiment and religious obligation, is a waste of energy, and is fitly characterized as ''zeal without knowledge."
"If the child of a king," says Menu, "is exposed, and brought up as an outcast, he is an outcast. But, as soon as a friend tells him who he is, he not only knows himself to be a prince, but he is a prince, and succeeds to the throne of his father" — he had lost his place and right as a prince through ignorance, he has recovered them through knowledge.*
* Ten Great Religions, Vol. 2, p. 178.
122 THE NEW RELIGION.
'^Goodness," says the same authority, '^is disclosed to be true knowledge. * * Let every Brahmin consider with fixed attention all nature, both visible and invisible, as existing in the divine spirit, for when he contemplates the boundless universe exist- ing in the divine spirit, he cannot give his heart to iniquity."^
This exaggerated estimate of the ethical value of knowledge is discernable even in the history of the Christian church, where we should least expect to find it, as appears in the importance attached to creeds and forms of belief, and especially in the per- secutions for error or heresy, which have so disgraced the cause of Christianit}^
In the order of sequence, and as a matter of fact, knowledge must precede sentiment. But some- how the sentiment or attendant feeling is, often, out of all proportion with the inherent value of the object conceived or known — the knowledge, for instance, of how one may attain wealth or office or honorable distinction, will give rise to a tempest of feeling, and call forth efforts out of all proportion with the value of the thing sought.
Did everything give rise to so much, and only so much feeling as is right and proper in itself — as it would, in a state of ideal perfection — then this theory of the supremacy of knowledge would probably hold true in its ethical relations.
I. Anthology, p. 8i.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 23
But when there is a predisposition, arising from whatever cause, and accounted for as it may be, to this irregular, erratic manifestation of sensibility — such as we know to exist in the present state of being, ignorance is not the whole evil, nor is knowledge the whole remedy.
The thought of getting gain ought to excite a rea- sonable effort to acquire it, but in some cases — they are very few, it is true — it scarcely moves a muscle, while in others — and these cases are very numerous — it explodes an inordinate passion, and precipitates all the forces of life upon an object alto- gether unworthy.
There are some defects in the present constitution and life of man which no amount or kind of knowledge can remedy. The reason can only reach to and restrain the appetites and passions through the moral sense, or conscience, and the will. To do the right in any given case, the moral sense must hold the will against all antagonistic appetites and passions. The authority of conscience, enforcing the antecedent judgment of the reason, must reign supreme. This it cannot, or, at least, does not always do.
The passion for money alone outweighs, in many cases, all that reason can throw into the scales on the side of conscience. Avarice and ambition may com- bine to influence the will against the claims of the moral sense. The pleasures of the banquet, the desire of elegant ease — otium cum digiiitate^ — the fasci- nations of dress and love of display may unite with
124 THE NEW RELIGION.
avarice to hold the citadel of the soul against reason and conscience; or, the sexual passion may kindle the lurid flames of devouring lust, or the insatiate thirst for strong drink, or some other intoxicant, too often avails to intensify the appetite with unquenchable, over-mastering hunger. What then? Will any kind or amount of knowledge appease the morbid appe- tite, or quench the fires of lust?
It must be noted that in many of these cases the wrong on the one side, and the right on the other, are patent and well understood by the parties to the practice. They know that nothing but a very short- lived gratification can come from doing wrong, that harm and evil must come of it, that to do the right thing would be much the best thing for them in the end, and yet, the grip of passion upon the will is maintained.
''Video meliora proboque Deleteriora seguar.'' — Ovid.
So far, indeed, is knowledge from serving as an infallible check upon vice, that it too readily lends its power to the cause of vice against virtue, and becomes a wily abettor of crime by opening up new fields of forbidden pleasure, and aiding the criminal in his dexterous villainy.
What the Brahmin prince needed under his con- ditions, and in his particular emergency, was the knowledge that he was born a prince; but note, the wayward soul needs more than the knowledge of a fact that can be communicated. He needs a read-
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 25
justment of his moral nature. He needs a rehabili- tated conscience. He needs love re-enthroned among the affections, and it does not appear that any amount or kind of knowledge would be a remedy. Some- thing to fortify the conscience, something to redis- tribute and redirect the moral forces, if such a thing be possible — this is what he needs. The salvation of the prince was a small matter as compared with the salvation needed to bring men to ideal perfection.
It must not be questioned, however, that the right kind of moral teaching, especially in the plastic periods of childhood and youth, is of the utmost importance, as an aid to virtue. There is doubtless a sense in which ^^virtue can be taught." A clear knowledge of the truth touching the obligations incumbent in all the relations of life may have the effect to fortify conscience to develop the better nature, to guard against vice, however powerless it may seem in certain cases; and this is the kind of knowledge upon which Socrates, in common with all the old masters, relied, and the general correctness of their ethical teaching cannot be questioned.
The Egyptian Code of Morals,
^^We are not obliged," said Renouf, ^^to believe that this or that man possessed all the virtues ascribed to him, but we cannot resist the conviction that thq recognized Egyptian code of morality was a very noble and refined one;" and, in confirmation of this, he adds: ^'The translators of the bible and the early
126 THE NEW RELIGION.
Christian literature, who were so often compelled to retain Greek words for which they could find no suita- ble equivalent, found the native Egyptian vocabulary amply sufficient for the expression of the most deli- cate notions of Christian ethics.'*
^'None of the Christian virtues," says Chabas, *^are forgotten in the Egyptian code — piety, gentle- ness, charity, self-command in word and action, benevolence toward the humble, chastity, the protec- tion of the weak, deference to superiors, respect for property in its minutest details, all expressed in extremely good language. '^^
^^We are acquainted with several collections of pre- cepts and maxims in the conduct of life. Such are the maxims of Ptahotep, * the instruction of Amenemhat and the maxims of Oni. * * The most venerable of them is the work of Ptahotep, which dates from the age of the pyramids, and yet appeals to the authority of the ancients. It is undoubtedly, le plus Ancien libre de Monde — the most ancient book of the world.
^^The manuscript at Paris which contains it, was written centuries before the Hebrew language was born. The author of the work lived in the reign of Ossa-Talkara, and the fourth dynasty. The books are similar in character and tone to the book of Proverbs in our bible. They include the study of wisdom, the duty to parents and superiors, respect for property, the advantages of charitableness, peace-
I. Ten Great Religions, part 2, p. 309.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 27
ableness of conduct, of liberality, of humanity, chas- tity and sobriety, of truthfulness and justice. And they show the wickedness and folly of disobedience and strife, of arrogance and pride, of slothfulness, intemperance, unchastity and other vices. *'^
Some of the ancient nations of India, though widely separated from the Egyptians in place and time and character, were not wanting in teachers of good intelligence and high moral culture.
The Brahmin Code,
This code of morals was very elaborate and specific in its requirements.
'^A wise man must faithfully discharge all his moral duties, even though he does not constantly perform the ceremonies of religion/' which was in fact quite another thing. ^*He will fall very low if he performs ceremonial acts only, and fails to dis- charge his moral duties."^
Among the duties named in this code are, con- tentment, returning good for evil, resistance to sen- sual appetites, abstinence from illicit gain, purifica- tion, control of the senses, knowledge of the sacred writings, veracity and freedom from anger. ^^Let a man continually take pleasure in truth, in justice, in purity. Let him keep in subjection his speech, his arm, his appetite. Wealth and pleasures repug- nant to law let him shun — even lawful pleasures which
1. Renouf, in Hibbert Lect., 1879.
2. Anthology, p 3.
128 THE NEW RELIGION.
may cause future pain, or be offensive to mankind. Let him not have nimble fingers, restless feet or voluble eyes. Let him not be crooked in his ways, nor flippant in his speech, nor intelligent in doing mischief. Let him walk in the paths of good men."^*
The Buddhist Code,
This is not less specific and elaborate.
Buddhism was a revolt against the system of caste so persistently taught and relentlessly practiced by the Brahmins. But these two systems are closely allied, in their moral teaching, if we except the sub- ject of caste.
Let us note the following as indicating, in the briefest way, the wide range of their moral precepts, and the infinite details of their ethical teaching.
There are three sins of the body: i. Murder; 2, Theft; 3, Impiety.
I. Ibid, p. 7.
* There are twelve books of Menu.
The first reveals a cosmogony, or generation of the world. The second and third regulate education and marriage. The fourth treats of economics and morals. The fifth treats of diet, purification and women. The sixth treats of devotion.
The seventh of government and the military class. The eighth of private and criminal laws. The ninth treats of the commercial and servile classes. The tenth of mixed classes, and gives direction for their duties. The eleventh treats of penance and expiation. The twelfth of transmigration and final beatitude. — Oriental Religions, p. 179.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 29
There are four sins of speech: i, Lying: 2, Slan- der; 3, Abuse; 4, Unprofitable Conversation.
There are three sins of the mind: i, Covetousness; 2, Malice; 3, Skepticism.
'There are also five other evils to be avoided:
1, Drinking intoxicating liquors; 2, Gambling; 3, Idle- ness; 4, Improper Associates; 5, Frequenting places of Amusement.^
^*There are difficult things in the world, '^ said Buddha, *^^Being rich and great, to be religious; being poor, to be charitable; to escape destiny; to repress
I. Ten Great Religions, Vol. 2, p. 403.
* Buddha gave five precepts for all men: i, Not to kill;
2, Not to steal; 3, Not to commit adultery; 4, Not to lie; 5, Not to be drunken.
Five for professed disciples: i, To abstain from food out of season; 2, From dances and music; 3, From personal ornaments and perfumes; 4, From soft and luxurious couches; 5, From money.
To those farther advanced in the religious life he enjoined twelve ordinances: i, To wear only rags cast away by men of the world; 2, To wear only of these rags sufficient to serve as a short skirt, a night shirt and a cape; 3, Of these to wear the cape only on one shoulder; 4, To live only on alms; 5, to take only one meal a day; 6, And that before noon; 7, To live in solitary places, and only to enter a town to ask alms; 8, To take no shel- ter except the foliage of trees; 9, To take rest at the foot of a tree; ID, To sleep the, back against the tree without lying down; II, Not to mov^i the carpet from place to place; 12, And to medi- tate nightly among the tombs on the transitoriness of aU human things. — Baring Gould, Religious Beliefs, p. 340,
130 THE NEW RELIGION.
lust and regulate desire; to see an agreeable object, and not desire to obtain it; to be strong without being rash; to bear insult without anger; to move in the world without setting the heart on it; to investi- gate a matter to the bottom; not to contemn the ignorant; thoroughly to extirpate self-esteem; to be good, and, at the same time, learned and clever; to see the hidden principle in the possession of religion; to attain one's end without exultation; to exhibit, in a right way, the doctrine of expediency; to be the same in heart and life, and to avoid controversy."^
Other Codes.
Confucius, the Chinese law-giver, whose precepts have had a more distinct and wider acceptance than those of any other teacher, had many just views on the relations and conduct of life.
Being asked, ^^Is there not one word which may serve as a rule for one's whole life?" he replied: ^'Is not reciprocity such a word?"
^'What you do not wish done to yourself, do not to others. When you are laboring for others let it be with the same zeal as if it were for yourself."
He constantly emphasized the duty of humility, and no master ever so succeeded in enforcing the duty of filial obedience as did he, — so closely did he approach to the best precepts of Christianity.
In Greece and Rome, as elsewhere in the ancient world, morality and religion are different things.
I. Anthropology, p. 171.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I3I
The Romanes religious duties were prescribed for him with the greatest exactness, and to the last detail — what God he was to worship, in what way, with what words. All this was definitely settled by ancient tradition.
In these particulars, too, he was excessively punctillious; whereas he was entirely unconcerned as to the state of his soul. He was deemed most religious who best knew the ritual, and most exactly observed it.^
All are familiar with the teaching of the Greek and Roman masters — Socrates, Plato, Zeno, Seneca, Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius, and many others, to which the founder of Christianity could add little more in the way of moral precept than the sanction of his great authority and the inspiration of his spotless life.
Thus it is. The wide range of thought in the vari- ous fields of duty, traversed by these ancient worthies, living 400 to 1,000 years, or even more, before the Christian era, and the intelligent views expressed, leave us little to claim as modern in the sphere of practical ethics.
But, after all, it must be admitted we have looked on the bright side of this picture. These glittering gems of moral science have been dug up, and washed out, from an immense mass of repulsive crudities, and absurd, not to say disgusting, superstitions.
The masses of men in all countries, and in all the world' s history, have had little conception of the higher life and possibilities of human nature. In the world's
I. Ullman Conf. Chris, and Heathenism.
132 THE NEW RELIGION.
wide waste there stands here and there a solitary mountain stretching itself toward heaven; its tower- ing summit has caught the gleam and glitter of the stars. The moon sheds her pale light upon it, and the coming day touches it with more resplendent hues, while around its deep, broad base there reign night and desolation. Scattered throughout the ancient world there are to be found a few of stronger vision and larger power— the sons of God. They stand above the wide-spread plain and waste of humanity. They have caught the light and felt the inspiration which never comes to those below. They have called down to the multitude to follow them, but called in vain. Around these Himalayas there reign darkness and desolation; and so it would seem they must yet long reign.
It is something wonderful that men who have attained to such heights of true knowledge — to such delicate appreciation of social and moral obligation — could yet suffer themselves to be weighted down with so much that seems to us absurd and degrading, and that their confessedly wise teaching should prove to be so powerless to uplift and save the masses. But this is human nature. If we go into those countries that have long been under the exclusive cultus of the Greek and Roman so-called Christian churches, we shall find ignorance and superstition and corruption scarcely less repulsive and degrading than those of pagan and heathen lands.
One lesson seems to be plainly taught. It is, that
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 33
education, the diffusion of knowledge, including the best moral precepts, is inadequate to save men. It cannot avail to reform and save the masses of men from vice and wretchedness.
There is a conscious sense of want in men that appeals from what mere moral teaching cannot accomplish, for the saving of the soul, to a higher power — a power that can awaken conscience and readjust the affections. It is an appeal from reason to sentiment, from science to religion.
Confucius was the greatest mere moral, non-relig- ious teacher the world ever produced. His success was extraordinary — phenomenal; and the result is peculiarly instructive, as illustrating the impotency of mere moral prece|)ts to uplift and reform men. His followers, through the ages, have failed to exhibit that resilliancy of spirit, that energy of thought and character which are the invariable con-comitants, at least, if not the cause of the best phases of human progress.
Something of this want of energy and discursive activity must, no doubt, be ascribed to the debilitat- ing influences of a tropical climate and unfavorable surroundings. But these are no worse upon them than upon other peoples of the Orient, and yet, more than any other nation, the Chinese seem to have reached the limits of possible progress, without fun- damental changes in their modes of thought and cult- ure. They have been wanting in the inspirations of an uplifting religion. Their moral instincts have
134 "^^^ ^^^ RELIGION.
taken too low a trend. They have been wanting in enthusiasm.
In the absence of a Divine Being, the source of all blessing, and proper object of worship, his disciples, when death and distance of time had lent their enchantment, fell down and worshiped their great master; or, driven by a more decidedly religious instinct, they have strayed away to become Tauists or semi-Buddhists.
CHAPTER XIV.
Religion Proper,
And now, having had a glimpse of the ancient theories of culture and methods of moral discipline, as proposed and practiced by the early masters of thought, let us look a little more closely into their religions with a view of ascertaining how perfectly or imperfectly they respond to the legitimate needs of men, and their value as reformatory and uplifting agencies.
Religion is necessary to a complete character. The religious bias or trend is an intuition, and relig- ion in some form, develops among all peoples. Its germ is born with men, and when properly developed it lifts the soul into fellowship with the spirits above, and with God.
The first thing that impresses one upon looking back upon the Old Religions is their vastness and complexity — their immense capacities for good or evil.
Behold their varied and manifold prescriptions for the religious life! Behold their rites and ceremonies, the sacrifices they required — the immolations and the self-denials!
Behold the huge temples they builded — the shrines they consecrated.
136 THE NEW RELIGION.
Their divinities stand visaged upon mountain and stream, in wood and lawn, and what a role did they play in all the drama of that ancient life!
As enlightened Christians we are accustomed to think of religion being inseparably connected with morality. But the votaries of religion do not always act on this hypothesis.
Morals relate to the duties of man to man, and to society.
Religion relates to God and the destiny of the soul in the hereafter.
In the ante Christian cultus, more especially out- side of Egypt and Persia, morality is one thing and religion quite another.
We shall fail to comprehend and properly estimate the Old Religions if we lose sight of this fact.
In the religions of Greece and Rome this separa- tion between religion and morality was carried so far that the inculcation of morality at last devolved avowedly and exclusively upon the philosophers, while the priests were wholly occupied with the duties of religion."^
The time has not long gone since there were to be found votaries even of the Christian religion, who made this distinction and held this view. Their argu- ment was brief, but conclusive — ^^A man uncon- verted," they said, ^ ^without religion, is corrupt — a child of the devil." In this state, nolens volens, he
I. Leckey Hist. Rat., Vol. i, p. 311.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 37
plays into the hands of the wicked one. The more decently and morally he lives the greater will be his influence in favor of morality and against religion; and the more effectually, therefore, will he serve the devil and prevent the spread of religion and the sal- vation of men. I have myself frequently heard this argument made from the pulpit. But happily in the more enlightened Christian countries the time for such preposterous teaching is past.
Prayer and worship are the staple constituents of all religions and are as universally prevalent among men as the religious instinct, and the sense of sin and ill desert.
But, in the Old Religions, what is prayer, and what is worship?
The Egyptian,
Behold, all these living, growing, changing things, how wonderful! Whence did they come? They had a cause — a maker, where is he? He must be some- where back of and beyond them. To find him, to know him, I must look into these things, and through them. How else shall I ever know him? Behold the opening bud, the expanding flower, the climbing arbutus, so beautiful and inspiring; behold the leopard and the cat, so winsome and agile; behold the crawl- ing reptile gliding about in the dark depths, and holding perpetual vigils in the deep; how curious all and wonderful — inviting study ! Ah, yes — ' tis through these visible things we must look if we would find the
138 THE NEW RELIGION.
eternal — through nature up to nature's God — Thus the Egyptian.
What then is the Egyptian's prayer and worship but an effort to commune with God, through these visible expressions of himself? Do we marvel to behold the votary of religion paying his devotions to these visible representatives of the Eternal.
*^Do not think," says the Egyptian priest, ''we worship animals. Each of them is a symbol — a representative of a divine thought of the Creator; we reverence the Creator in his works. We do not make statues in the likeness of God. We take the crea- tures of his hand, as signifying his character. It is to avoid idolatry, — to avoid making anything in the image of God, that we place these creatures in shrine."
''Such," says the author of "Ten Great Religions," "was the religion of the Egyptians during thousands of years running back into the darkness of prehistoric times."
This statement of Mr. Clarke must be received cicm grane salts. While it is probable that the reli- gion of that early people had some such origin as above indicated, it can hardly be denied that in its practical working — whatever it may have been in theory, among a very few of the most intelligent — it bordered closely upon mere Fetichism.
These visible aids to worship, yet so common and even popular in some quarters, have always proved
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 39
to be futile and worse than useless as a standing means of worship.
Whether among pagans or in the Christian churches, the ordinary worshiper cannot habitually look up through visible symbols to the invisible spirit — cannot rise ^^through nature up to nature's God.'* The prayer familiarly and repeatedly addressed to the cat or the tortoise by the Egyptian, or to the picture of Mary by the Roman Catholic, hardly passes beyond it, and tends to degrade rather than to elevate the worshiper.
The Persian,
The Persian seems to have made closer observa- tion of the distinction between good and evil and was more profoundly impressed by it. The two — good and evil, are everywhere to be found arrayed against each other, waging war.
Now victory perches upon the banner of one, then upon that of the other. They are so universally and constantly in this relation of conflict with each other, and on a scale of such magnitude, extending through all realms, there must be divinity in them. Beyond the visible, both of good and evil, there must be eternal powers — Behold Ormuzd and Ahriman!
By the very imminence of these mighty spirits, the life of the Persian was intoned to a keen and constant sense of danger. The conflict was ever on, and no moment would admit a truce.
The religious duties of the Parsee were accord-
140 THE NEW RELIGION.
ingly many, and imperative. Baring Gould gives them as follows: Reading the law, prayer and sacri- fice. By prayer he guarded himself from the attacks of Ahriman, the principle of evil, and his attendant spirits.
Prayer was made on rising from sleep and on going to bed, on eating and sneezing, on cutting his hair and paring his nails, on kindling sticks and lighting a lamp.^ The prayer of the votary was directed to good and merciful Ormuzd, to save him from the wiles and the power of the wicked Ahriman.
If we go still farther Eastward, we shall find other peculiarities of religion.
The Aryans.
The Aryans of India were remarkable for their pensive moods, and their spiritual development. They seemed to stand lightly upon terra firma. Their thoughts readily took wing and soared away into realms of spirit. The battle of actual life was distasteful — repugnant to them, its conquests thor- oughly unsatisfying.
Matter is the very essence of corruption. Every- thing touching it is tainted and needs purification. Thought was free to mount and fly, but only thought. All else how ^ ^cribbed and cabined." All is gross, groveling. Behold the beasts of the field. They eat and drink and care not. They care not for honor or
I. Origin of Beliefs, p. 220.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I4I
dishonor, for fame or shame. And behold man is a very beast, feeds like him, sleeps and wakes like him. The lofty Aryan is mortified and disgusted. Yoked with matter in a living organism, he 3^earns for liberty and for purity. Could this world, with its incessant and bitter strifes, its manifest disorders and its rigid limitations, be his home? Alas, he feels it to be his prison.
And what is this physical organism that makes him so like a beast — what, but a body of death? And whence these illicit desires and vile passions? They appear in the beast — at best they indicate a low and mean nature — they must be extinguished. The better self must be lifted out of this grossness. O thou noble, high-born Aryan, dost thou know whither thou art tending?
No people ever evinced such habitual disregard of temporal things, of business and worldly thrift. No people ever staked so much on religion. Behold Brahminism and Buddhism and Tauism, for they are all of one root and stem, and differ only in their foliage, and but little in their fruit.
It will aid us in our inquiries as to the reformatory efficiency of these several forms of religion if we take note of their prayers and ceremonial worship. The Brahmin, like the worshiper of Osirib, prayed through symbols, at least in part, but less than the Egyptian did he stick and stop in the symbol.
These Orientals were profoundly and thoroughly religious. They built temples and pagodas and con-
^
142 THE NEW RELIGION.
secrated shrines innumerable. All streams and lakes and pools were held sacred. The great Ganges the most sacred of all. Annually, or oftener, multitudes make toilsome journeys to their great temples for protracted prayer and worship.
As the Divinity is localized the worshiper must be present on the spot. The prayers are prescribed forms of thought, committed to memory and repeated, the oftener the better; but, without the accommo- dating expedient of a ^ ^Rosary," I believe, which the Roman Catholic finds so convenient and necessary.
The service usually is merely perfunctory, and might be turned off from a machine.^
Dr. Butler, in his '^Land of the Vedas," pages 26 to 28, gives us a specimen morning service of one well advanced in religious culture, which I quote sub- stantially, as illustrative of the trend and scope of the Brahmin's religion: ^^The worshiper may bathe in any water from a well, but preferably from a running stream, and best of all in the Ganges or other sacred stream if the Ganges be beyond his reach, saying, ^O Gunga, hear my prayers; for my sake be included in this small quantity of water.'
I. An enterprising Llama worshiper comprehending this, invented his Tchu-kor, a kind of barrel turning on ."ts axis, and written all over with prayers, which he set going co turn off prayers for his benefit, while, Yankee-like, he went in pursuit of more lucrative business. But surely no true Brahmin, nor Buddhist, nor disciple of the weird Laotze, could have displayed such greed for this world.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I43
^^Then, standing in the water, he must hallow his intended performance by the inaudible recitation of sacred texts.
. '^Next, sipping water, and spurting some before him, he is to throw water eight times upon the crown of his head, on the earth, and toward the sky; then again toward the sky, on the earth, upon the crown of his head, and lastly on the ground to destoy the demons who wage war with the God — all the time he must be reciting these prayers, ^O waters, since ye afford delight, grant us present happiness and the rapturous sight of the Supreme Being. Like tender mothers make us partakers of your most auspicious essence, with which ye satisfy the universe — O waters, grant it to us.'
^'Immediately after this first ablution, he sips water without swallowing it, silently praying. He then plunges three times into the water, each time repeating the prescribed expiatory texts. He then meditates in the deepest silence. During this moment of intense devotion he is striving to realize that Brahma, with four faces and a red complexion, resides in his bosom. Vishnu, with four arms and a black complexion, in his heart, and Shiva, with five faces and a white complexion, in his forehead!
''To this sublime meditation succeeds a suppression of the breath, performed thus: Closing the left nos- tril with the two long fingers of his right hand, he draws his breath through the right nostril, and then, closing this nostril with his thumb, be holds his
144 THE NEW RELIGION.
breath while he repeats to himself the Gayatri^ and other texts. Last of all he raises both fingers off the left nostril and emits the breath he had suppressed through the right.
*^The process being repeated three times, he next makes three ablutions with this prayer:
<As he who bathes is cleansed from all foulness, as an ablution is sanctified by holy grass, so may this water purify me from sin.'
^'He then fills the palm of his hand with water and, presenting it to his nose, inhales the fluid by one nostril, and, retaining it for a while, exhales it through the other and throws the water away to the northeast quarter.^
^'He then concludes by sipping water with this prayer: ^Water,thou dost penetrate all beings; thou dost reach the deep recesses of the mountains; thou art the mouth of the universe; thou art sacrifice; thou art the mystic word ^Vasha;' thou art light, taste and the immor- tal fluid, ' and concludes by worshiping the rising sun. ^ '^
1. The Gayatri is regarded as the most sacred verse of the Vedas. It is as follows: "Let us adore the supremacy of that Divine Sun — the Deity, who illuminates all, from whom all pro- ceed, are renovated, to whom all must return; whom we invok§ to direct our intellects in our progress toward his holy seat."
2. This for internal ablution which washes away sin. — Ibid,
3. The law of Menu adjudges the manner in which the Brah-. min is to eat, drink, clothe himself, relieve his bowels, wash his feet, cut his hair, and even perform the most secret functions, It designates with precision the hours of rising and going to rest. It tells what precautions to take for his personal safety. It enumerates the rights and duties peculiar to each caste and each divi§iQo of cc^ste, — Bmn^ Gould, Religious Beliefs, p. 206,
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I45
It is not difficult to, discover that in this service the votary is burdened with a sense of impurity and sin. His ablutions symbolize and express what he feels he needs to have done for his spiritual nature. As a result of this purifying process he expects to obtain relief from his burden.
^^O waters, since ye afford delight, grant us present happiness, and the rapturous sight of the Supreme Being. ^ Make us partakers of your most auspicious essence, with which ye satisfy the universe. i'
Shall we say that such a service, however it may differ in its conduct, is less availing than that of the Christian votary, when their respective objects are so near of kin? That he never finds the blessing he seeks?
After working one's wa}^ through the deep jungle of absurd ritual, and dogma, and superstitious cere- mony, whose object is half concealed by masses of symbols and tropes and Oriental imagery, it is refresh- ing, upon emerging, to find rising out of all prayers such as these:
^^May that soul of mine which mounts aloft in my waking and my sleeping hours, an ethereal spark from the light of lights, be united by devout medita- tion, with the spirit supremely blest and supremely intelligent!
'^May that soul of mine, the guide by which the
I. It was believed that the Yogi — those who had made the highest attainments in religion, could literally see the Diving Spirit.
146 THE NEW RELIGION.
lowly perform their menial work, and the wise, versed in science, worship — that soul which is the primal oblation within all creatures, be united by devout meditation with the spirit supremely blest and supremely intelligent!
^^May that soul of mine, which is a ray of perfect wisdom, pure intellect and permanent existence, the inextinguishable light set in mortal bodies, with- out which no good act is performed, be united, by devout meditation, with the spirit supremely blest and supremely intelligent!
^'May that soul of mine, in whose eternal essence is comprised whatever has passed, is present, or will be hereafter, be united, by devout meditation, with the spirit supremely blest and supremely intelligent!
^^May that soul of mine, which, distributed also through others, guides mankind, as the charioteer guides his steeds — the soul fixed in my breast, exernpt from old age, swift in its course, be united, by divine meditation, with the spirit supremely blest and supremely intelligent!"^
The following beautiful Brahmin burial service throws light upon their great and complex system of religion:
^^O Earth! to thee we commend our brother. Of thee he was formed. By thee he was sustained, and unto thee he now returns.
'^O Fire! thou hadst a claim in our brother during
I, Anthology, p- 103.
tHE OLD kELIGlONS. I47
life. He subsisted by thy influence in nature. To thee we commit his body, thou emblem of purity. May his spirit be purified on entering a new state existence.
'^O Air! while the breath of life continued, our brother respired thee. His last breath is now departed. To thee we yield him.
^^O Water! thou didst contribute to the life of our brother. Thou wert one of his sustaining elements. His remains are now dispersed. Receive thy share of him who has now taken an everlasting flight!"^
The service outlined by Dr. Butler only hints at the range and character of the Oriental religious life — its spirit, its elaborate ritual, its numerous cere- monies, often seemingly very superstitious and absurd, but always spiritual and world-forgetting.
We shall get a better conception of these great relig- ions of the Orient, considered as agencies for bettering the conditions of mankind, if we note even briefly their ascetic tendencies and requirements. How much soever we moderns may be inclined to think that the requirements and enjoyments of religion are consis- tent with successful business, with domestic and social pleasure, and adapted to make the present life happy, we must not expect to find such views held by Brahmin and Buddhist.
Their modes of thought, their institutions, their environment, and of course their religious cultus, are profoundly different.
I. Anthology, by Conway, p. 420.
CHAPTER XV.
Asceticism,
However wisely or unwisely, this ancient cultus looks not so much to the needs of the present life as to those of the larger life beyond, to which the present is but an introduction.
If the happiness of the present brief life is incom- patible with that of the future and eternal life, it were, indeed, the greatest folly to sacrifice the latter to the former.
To attain an eternity of repose and blessing, at the expense and loss of all that can be conceived to be good in this life, which so hastens to its close, would be wise. Something of this view, it would seem, underlies the life of the ascetic. Asceticism is the offspring of the philosophico-religious views incul- cated by the old masters as to the nature and effect of matter in its organic relations with the human spirit. Matter fetters and debases; it is corrupting, and defiles the soul. Emotions and passions which have their root in the physical organism are destruc- tive of true happiness. Desire must be subdued, according to Buddha completely annihilated. To purge away the dross and defilement of matter, and
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I49
break the power of the sensuous Hfe, is the thing to be accomplished.
'^A man endued with a purified intellect, having humbled his spirit by resolution; who hath freed him- self from passion and dislike; who worshipeth with discrimination, eateth with moderation, and is lowly of speech, of body, and of mind, and who preferreth the devotion of meditation and who constantly placeth his confidence in dispassion, who is freed from osten- tation, tyrannic strength, vain glory, lust, anger and avarice, and who is exempt from selfishness and in all things temperate, is formed for union with God. * * It is to be obtained by resolution, by the man who knoweth his own mind, wheresover the unsteady mind roameth, he should subdue i"- bring it back and place it in his own breast."^
If the Divine Being be conceived of as anthropo- morphic, as in Greece and Rome, there is really no great change needed to bring the votary into har- mony and likeness with the object of his worship. Accordingly among the Greeks and Romans we find no expressed need of such change, no disavowal of existing manhood, no claim that a regeneration of life and character is necessary to harmony with the celestials, and per consequence, no conversion, no asceticism. If, however, the Divine Spirit be con- ceived of as a pure spirit, above all sensibility, and ineffably pure and holy, the case is very different.
I. Anthol. p. 58, et seq.
150 • THE NEW RELIGION.
To bring a willful, sinning, vice-smitten, sensuous mortal into likeness and harmony with such an exalted being, great changes must be wrought in him. And this is the deep conviction of the consciously imper- fect soul. This, say, the old masters, must be done. The deliverance of the spirit must be effected. And, with this line thrown out to religious fanaticism, what may we not expect in the way of extremes, from relig- ious zealots? What has been the result? We have self-denial and penance ^^gone mad."
Human nature has made no more humiliating and pitiful exhibition of itself than that recorded in the history of Asceticism, Religious convictions lie so deep in man's nature, and so overshadow and con- trol all mere world considerations that they often drive men into revolting extremes of folly.
Behold the excesses and horrors of religious wars and religious persecutions!
To get a proper conception of Asceticism as prac- ticed by the Brahmins and other Orientals, we must look a little into the organization of their social and religious life. It was not altogether a voluntary and sporadic development of the religious nature.
Four stages of life are marked out by Menu, the great Brahmanic law-giver:
1. The Brahmachari, or student's life of the Veda.
2. The Grishastha, or married life stage.
3. The Hermit life period.
4. The Sannyassi, or Devotee period.
Passing the first and second of these periods, in
THE OLD RELIGIONS. t^t
which no great amount of self-torture was required, let us notice the third and fourth.
In the third, or Hermit stage, such a course of dis- cipline as will mortify the passions and extinguish desire, is the desideratum.
'^When one has remained a Grishastha — in the married stage of life — until his muscles become flac- cid, and his hair gray, and he has seen a child of his child, let him abandon his household, and repair to the forest and dwell there as a hermit.
^^Let him take with him the consecrated fire, and all the implements for making oblations to the fire, and there dwell in the forest with perfect control over all his organs.
^'Day by day he should perform the five sacraments."
He should wear a black antelope's hide, or a vest- ure of black, and bathe every morning and evening.
He should allow his nails and the hair of his head and beard to grow without cutting, and he should be constantly engaged in reading the Veda.
He should be patient in all extremities, universally benevolent and entertain a tender affection for all liv- ing creatures.
His mind should be ever intent upon the Supreme Being.
He should slide backward and forward, or stand a whole day upon tiptoe, or continue in motion by alternately rising and sitting; but every day, at sun-
152 THE NEW RELIGION.
rise, at noon, and at sunset, he should go to the waters and bathe.
In the hot season he should sit exposed to five fires, viz., four blazing around him, while the sun burns above him.
In the raining season he should stand uncovered without a mantle, while the clouds pour down their heaviest showers.
In the cold season he should wear damp vesture.
He should increase the austerity of his devotions by degrees until, by enduring harsher and harsher mortifications, he has dried up his bodily frame. ^
When he has thus lived in the forest during the third portion of his life as a Vanaprastha, he should, for the fourth portion of it, become a Sannyassi, and abandon all sensual affections, and repose wholly in the Supreme Spirit.
He should take an earthen water-pot, dwell at the roots of large trees, wear coarse vesture, abide in total solitude, and exhibit a perfect equanimity toward all creatures.
He should wish for neither death nor life, but expect his appointed time as a hired servant expects his wages.
He should look down as he advances his step, lest he should touch anything impure.
He should drink water that has been purified by
I. Code iv. 22; Vishnu Purana iii. g, etc. Substantially as given by Dr. Butler. Land of the Vedas, pp. 35 and 36.
THE OLt) RELIGIONS. X53
straining through a cloth, lest he should hurt an insect.
He should bear a reproachable spirit with patience. Speak reproachfully to no one, never utter a word relating to vain, illusory things, delight in meditating upon the Supreme Spirit, and sit fixed in such medi- tation without needing anything earthly, without one sensual desire, and without any companion but his own soul; and much more to the same general effect.^
In all this. Buddhism substantially followed Brah- minism. Even the Buddha himself was the subject of innumerable mortifying births ere asceticism had wrought its perfect work.
Under such a cultus the wildest fanaticism of course had free play.
Great importance was attached, by these Old Mas- ters, to meditation, in which they were zealously fol- lowed by Plato. To go into profound solitude, and indulge in protracted, intense, absorbing contempla- tion, was the supplementary and final means of attaining Nirwana — the condition of eternal repose.
It was needful that they should reflect upon the transmigrations of men, caused by their sinful deeds, their downfall into the regions of darkness, their tor- ments in the mansions of Yama, their separation from those whom they love, their union with those whom they hate, upon their strength being over- powered by old age, their bodies racked with disease,
Ibid.
154 '^^^ ^^W RELIGION.
their agonizing departure from this corporeal fram^, their formation again in the womb, on the misery attached to embodied spirits from a violation of their duties, and the imperishable bliss which attaches to disembodied spirits, who have '^abundantly performed their whole duty.''
Starting with asceticism thus formulated and organized, we have it in full chorus of horror in all the Orient.
Baring Gould, in his Origin of Beliefs,^ says, ''On the borders of the Ganges the Yogin strives by every exaggeration of torture to emancipate his soul and confound it with God.
''Yogins swarming with vermin, covered with dirt, mixing filth with their food, running skewers through their cheeks, suspending themselves by hooks thrust into their flesh, standing on one foot for many years, lying for half a lifetime upon sharp nails, strive, by withdrawing their affections from things here below, to fix them with greater intensity on the Divinity above."
It were easy to fill pages with the horrors of asceti- cism as practiced in Orient.
Dr. Butler says there are 2,000,000 of these Yogin and Mohammedan Fakirs in India.
But as a second result of this system of asceticism we have self-righteousness and pride gone mad.
It must not be forgotten that these penances were
I. Page 362.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 155
considered meritorious. The devotee becomes more pure and holy in proportion as he pushes his self-sac- rifices to extremes, and in this fact lies the persistent strength and popularity of the system. The pious ascetic, under the reign, possibly, of a pure selfishness, sets up a claim to superior sanctity — a claim which he knows will be respected — and becomes the most haughty and supercilious of mortals. He has merited support, deference, adoration. He has disarmed criticism, risen above censure, and attained divine power, and must be respected even by the lower divinities.
"Supreme he stood The merit of his sacrifice
Was a monsoon flood.
His good deeds numberless."
— deeds, whose ^^merit" was so great as to compel gods ^^who fain would shed his heart's red blood," to bless them. Is it strange that under the combined impulses of religion and selfish ambition, thousands, age after age, should fall into line and swarm into the forests?
It may be said indeed that this is an abuse and not the proper use of the system; and this, in candor, ought to be admitted; but, given human nature as it is, it can hardly be denied that it is an abuse which is inseparable from its use.
What, then, must be the verdict as to the reforma- tory efficiency and uplifting virtue of asceticism, con- sidered in its means and methods? Does it make the
156 THE NEW RELIGION.
individual happier, or society better, or final beatitude more certain?
That there is advantage in occasionally retiring from the hurly burly and excitements of society, into soli- tude, and spending an hour in self-examination and contemplation, we should freely admit and do believe.
One can hardly dwell upon the shifting vicissitudes of this world-life, and the inevitable results of vice and virtue in human conduct, without coming into closer sympathy with that which is good and true in human life. To ardently cherish an ideal character, to hold in mind the symbols of goodness and perfection, and cherish with prayerful yearning the better life, can hardly fail to fortify resolution and give new zest and vitality to all virtuous and worthy purposes.
That such devout and prolonged contemplation and aspiration, as Menu enjoined upon the Sannyassi, and Plato prescribed for his philosophers, connect with great spiritual possibilities can hardly be doubted; and we hasten to accord this meed of virtue to asceticism. But, just how this murderous self-denial and self-immo- lation, thus systematically enjoined and practiced, can promote human happiness in this state of being or in any state of being is not easy to see.
In the first place asceticism is, at the bottom, but another form of selfishness. The ascetic does all, and suffers all, for his own ultimate benefit. He cherishes no philanthropy, feels no benevolence, contemplates n^ help for others, however needy.
5q far from it, he does great wrong to those who are
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I57
dependent upon him, and who have a right to look to him for aid aad comfort. The Grishastha, or ^^House- holder/' may ^^see the child of his child" at forty to forty-five, and while yet in the prime and strength of his manhood, and when he could provide for his depend- ent family and render important services to society. His wife and children, abandoned by him, may be quite unable to provide against hunger and want. Every consideration of love and justice requires that he should stay with them and help them. But not so, he must become a ^ ^hermit;" he abandons them to their fate! — becomes a mendicant, and henceforth ceases to be a producer and lives off public charity; he turns a deaf ear to the cries of his orphaned children and bereaved and possibly destitute wife, to become a miserable and selfish Anchorite, under pretence of gaining what? — beatitude for himself!
But beyond the fact of its being essentially selfish in its purpose, asceticism evidently antagonizes the whole order of nature. It is a pure assumption that matter corrupts the spirit.
What do we mean by corruption as applied to spirit? We cannot mean guiltiness, certainly, for there are innocent spirits in organic union with matter. Children begin life in a state of innocence. Guilt can- not be predicated until intentional sin has been com- mitted. Do we mean necessitated limitations of thought? imperfect appreciation of the good?
This condition of disability can hardly be called one pf impunity, It is a bad use of terms, But if thi^
158 THE NEW RELIGION.
torturing self-denial and self-abuse which finally results in destroying the body, has the effect to purify the spirit, why should one not cut the work short in righteousness and shoot himself?
The best proof of our being good is, that we fit into our place, that we live as we were intended to live. If there be light, and eyes fitted to it, we should use them, and enjoy the light; if there be sound, and ears fitted to it, we should use them and enjoy its blessings; if there be food and drink, and a digestive apparatus adapted to them, we should heed the monitions of taste and appetite and enjoy them; if there be a family with helpless infancy, and stronger arms and wiser thoughts of father and mother, and an instinct that urges on, the strong arms should hold up and defend the defenceless; if there be society, the individual should adjust himself to it, receiving from it and giv- ing to it what is best for both. Desires and passions, when properly regulated, have their uses and adapta- tion. Love incites to doing good to others. F'ear warns against danger, the passion for money provides for home and comfort. The love of the beautiful, the true and the good is to be gratified, by beauty and truth and goodness. We should study God's order and make the best of it, instead of placing ourselves at cross purposes with it. The best preparation we can have for the life beyond is to have fulfilled the evident purpose of the life that is here; and the proof that we shall be happy hereafter is the fact that we are so living as to be happy now.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I59
Human life and human happiness do not consist of parts and fragments. The Heaven beyond is here begun, and it must be substantially the same in kind ^ ^f or aye. ' '
But the ascetic takes direct issue with the order of nature, and, at infinite cost and loss, wages an unequal warfare against it. He tortures himself, stifles parental and social affection, wickedly withdraws his sympathies from those who would love him, abandons dependent wife and children, shuts his eyes against those in suf- fering, turns a deaf ear to the claims of all others, to nurse himself. He seeks to extinguish and to crush out from his nature all that would go to make a man of him, and in doing so becomes the most forlorn and pitiable of mankind. Alas for religion! Alas for humanity!
CHAPTER XVI.
Fear a Motive to Virtue.
Having glanced at some of the many and onerous duties imposed upon the rehgious votary by the Old Religions, let us consider for a moment how they enforce obedience in actual life.
It is one thing to preach and point the way of duty, it is quite another to put precepts into practice — to take up the line of march and go forward.
In all moral and religious teaching, there are pre- sented at least, two principal motives to the practice of virtue — gain and loss. Do right and enjoy, do wrong and suffer.
The legislator says to the citizen, do wrong if you will; but if you do I will make you suffer for it. This is the spirit of Law everywhere.
The mother says to her child, you are very dear to me. I am happy when you are happy. I suffer when you suffer. I cannot help it. If you should do wrong it would make you miserable and it would distress me.
There are two kinds of influence brought to bear in favor of the practice of virtue. This is not the place to discuss which is the more effective.
As a factor of virtue and piety^ fear holds an import- ant plage, Man, in all his relations, is a subject of
THE OLD RELIGIONS. l6l
law, and violated law means suffering. It is not necessary that we regard law as vindictive and suffering as punitive. It is better to think of it as preventive and reformatory. But the penalty is, nevertheless, suffering, and inspires fear. Hence fear becomes a motive urging men to obey law, and to obey law is to practice virtue.
Some have sought to eliminate fear from the list of motives to virtue. They say that love should draw men rather than that fear should push and drive them to obedience. But will love always do it? and if not, will fear help?
Fear is an inborn sensibility, and inseparable from human experience in the presence of danger. It has its proper function and should not be ignored either in ethics or religion, in the family or in the state.
Let it once be settled and fixed that, God is not mocked, that whatsoever a man sows that shall he reap; that if he sow to the flesh he shall of the flesh reap corruption; and, it is easy to see, that fear will supplement and reinforce the purpose to sow to the spirit. Love and fear are here, quite in accord in their influence on the will, and unite to secure the practice of virtue.
A just fear invigorates true love and renders it more powerful to combat the tendencies to vice and sin, so strong in human nature. The greater the temptation to do wrong the greater the need of fear to supplement and fortify the power of love as a conservator of right conduct, If there be danger of infinite loss, it \y?ir^
l62 THE NEW RELIGION.
better to array every motive against it; and, to dis- place fear, as some sentimentalists seek to do, were a serious mistake.
But it were a much greater mistake to ignore love, and rely upon fear as the principle means of securing obedience, as most governments and some families yet do.
Under the earlier teachers of mankind, as among barbarous nations and barbarous families, the chief reliance was upon fear, as motive to obedience.
It has been doubted whether the Egyptian Typhon represented moral evil.
Mr. J. Freeman Clarke, author of ^^Ten Great Relig- ions," seems to think that transmigration among this people was not penal, but evolutional, developmental in its character.^ But it would be difficult to defend this view, and it is not generally accepted. Man was held to be accountable hereafter for his actions done in this life, and to be adjudged according to his works. He was to be brought before Osiris, and his heart '^weighed against the feather of truth." He was to be questioned respecting his conduct in life and especially as to the whether he had committed the ' ^forty-two sins," concernmg which his accusers inquired.
In this court of last appeal he has no friend, no advocate, as has the Christian. If he can show that his good deeds out-weigh his evil deeds in the scales of exact truth and justice, Osiris will admit him to the
I. Vol. 2, p. 175.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 163
Islands of the Blessed; but if his evil deeds over-bal- ance his good ones, then woe! woe! to his poor soul! He must return to earth and transmigrate through horrid creatures in the lower ranges of life, and suffer all the disgusting experiences incident to their wretched condition; and this on and on, through cycles of such experience, until he can be again trusted with the privi- leges and responsibilities of regained human life, when he is permitted to start again.
Souls cannot die. They leave a former home And in new bodies dwell, and from them roam. Nothing can perish. All things change below, For spirits through all forms may come and go. Great beasts shall rise to human forms, and men, If bad, shall downward turn to beasts again. Thus, through a thousand shapes, the soul shall go, And thus fulfill its destiny below. 1
— Ovid.
The good Isis may turn a sympathizing look upon the prisoner at the bar, but it avails him not, and he knows not what fate awaits him until the august judge gives sentence. Going thus into court with a sense of conscious guilt upon his soul (and who has not such conviction of guilt), he may well fear the worst.
It is easy to see that, under such conditions of life
I The doctrine of Metempsychosis, says Mr. Clarke, was taught by Pythagoras, Empedocles and Plato; by the Neo Platonists the Jewish Cabbala and Arab Philosophers; by Origen ana othei Christian Fathers, by the Gnostics and Manichians, by the Druids, and, in more recent times, by Fourier and others. Vol. 2. p. 176.
164 THE NEW RELIGION.
and death, fear must play a principal part among the motives to virtue and piety. That such anticipation of future desert did restrain men from vice and pro- mote virtue cannot be doubted. But, the civilization of this wonderful people, so renowned for their early progress in the arts and sciences, was always wanting in philanthropy, and some of the higher forms of sym- pathetic virtue, as the absence of public charities and the neglect of the poor and unfortunate sufficiently prove. No people of high moral development and active philanthropy could have held such crude notions as to the rights, social and political, of the masses, or such views of the divine prerogatives of the governing few, as the building of the pyramids imply.
The doctrine of Transmigration was a fundamental tenet of Brahminism and passed into Buddhism with little modification; and, as in Egypt, it appealed to the fears of men.
^^A priest," says the great Indian law- giver, '^who has drunk spirituous liquor shall migrate into the form of a larger or smaller worm, or insect, of a moth, or some ravenous animal. If a man steal grain in the husk he shall be born a rat; if a yellow mixed metal, a gander; if water, a Plava, or diver; if honey, a great stinging gnat; if milk, a crow; if expressed juice, a dog; if clarified butter, an ichneumon or weasel." '^As far as vital souls addicted to sensuality indulge in forbidden pleasures, even to the same degree shall the acuteness of their senses be raised in their future bodies, that they may endure analogous pains."
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 165
'^Then shall follow separations from kindred and friends, forced residence with the wicked, painful gains and ruinous losses of wealth, friendships, hardly acquired, and at length changed into enmities."^
*^It may well be doubted," says Mr. J. Thomas, whether the comparatively vague fear of eternal pun- ishment, taught among the nations of the West, was calculated to exert so powerful an influence on the mind, as the definite, though infinitely varied terrors which these impending transmigrations inspired. "^ *'The mysterious doctrine of Metempsychosis," says William R. Alger, ^^has held the entire mind, sentiment and civilization of the East through every period of its history as with an irrevocable spell. "^ In all this Bud- dhism substantially follows Brahminism. The Buddha himself was the subject of ^^innumerable births." He was born as an ascetic eighty-three times, as the soul of a tree, forty-three times, and many times also as an ape, deer, lion, snipe, chicken, eagle, serpent, pig, frog, etc. According to a Chinese authority he was made to say, ^^The number of my births and deaths can only be compared to that of all the planets of the universe."
Transmigration is punishment. If prayers and pen- ance and sacrifices — if self-torture and devout contem- plation fail, the punishment of transmigration must complete the work of purification.
Sacrifices were offered for various purposes, but
1. Taken from Laws of Menu, as given by Clarke. J. F.
2. Johnson's Cyclop., p. 752, Vol. i.
3. Ibid, p. 84, Vol. 3.
r66 THE NEW RELIGION.
sacrifices to appease the divine wrath and expiate sin were by far the most common. Under a deep sense of sin and personal guilt, the alarmed devotee, with the instinct of danger quivering in every fibre of his being, cries out through these acted prayers for help against the coming destiny, but no help comes, and he knows nothing of the love that '^casts out fear."^
Will fear put an effectual check upon sin? Will punishment purify the soul — mean what you will by purify? That it will is the implied postulate of the Old Religions. The history of penal servitude does not warrant any such hope. The well-known effect of punishment for crime has been to harden men, to destroy moral sensibility, to engender bitterness, and hate, to dwarf and destroy self-respect, and thus to weaken rather than strengthen men against temptation.
Any number of facts could be produced to show that punishment inflicted by tribunals of justice has not proved reformatory and saving. The uniform testimony of officers in charge of penal institutions, both in this country and Europe, as collected by Mr. Wines, is to the effect that prison discipline is
I. Not only in India, but elsewhere, men shuddered at the thought of this lower world. "My temples are gray," said the pleasure-loving Anacreon, "and white my head. Beautiful yauth is gone. Not much remains of sweet life. Therefore I often sigh, fearing Tartarus — dreadful abyss of Hades— full of horrors is the descent thither; and whatever has gone down there never returns." — Ullhorn Conflict Christ, and Heath., p. 73.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 67
demoralizing, and the more so as the effort has been made to degrade men and make them suffer for their crimes. The treatment, says Dr. Despine, an eminent physician and philosopher of France, the treatment which aims only to punish, is dangerous both to society and the criminal. In France it produces from 40 to 45 per cent, of repeaters — that is, about one- half of those subjected to this course of penal disci- pline, leave, to go out and re-enter the list of crimi- nals, and are again returned to prison, and, generally, for worse crimes than the first upon which they were convicted. And this proportion of ^ ^repeaters," or ^^revolvers," as they are sometimes called, holds good in this country. Does clubbing a man reform him? Says Mr. Altgeld:^ ^^Does brutal treatment elevate his thoughts? Does handcuffing fill him with good resolutions?" There is no greater mistake (says the National Prison Reform Convention, by resolution at Cincinnati, Ohio, 1870), in the whole compass of penal discipline than its studied methods of degrada- tion, as a part of punishment. Such imposition destroys every better impulse and aspiration; it crushes the weak, irritates the strong, and indisposes all to submission and reform.
Cruel treatment (says Mr. F. Wines in his work on Prisons), was once generally esteemed the most sure, just, and only fitting method of penal discipline. But the period is well passed when the interior of a
I. Penal Machinery.
1 68 THE NEW RELIGION.
prison is to be the arena for the exercise of brutaliz- ing forces upon erring and wicked men.
There is, says another/ in the history of the human race, not a single instance wherein cruelty effected a genuine reformation. It can crush, but it cannot improve. It can restrain, but as soon as the restraint is removed, the subject is worse than before. The human mind is so constituted that it must be led towards the good, and can be driven only in one direction, and that is towards ruin.
This fact is clearly admitted in the so-called Chris- tian dogma of eternal damnation. If the invitations and warnings of love, and the reformatory agencies of the present life, where hope and liberty reign, fail to lead to virtue, and the subject enters upon his pun- ishment, there is thenceforth no possible hope for him; his punishment never reforms him.
The Old Religions then have staked too much upon this method of saving men through fear of punishment. They have failed to comprehend the fact, now so well attested, that such a method works, not toward virtue, but toward vice, and is therefore utterly unsuited to the purposes of reformation.
I. Altgeld.
CHAPTER XVII.
Want of Sympathy.
Such are some of the principal reformatory means and agencies relied on by the Old Masters.
In a spirit of fairness, I hope, we have sought to estimate them at their true value.
We should not, however, be true to the cause of truth if we do not note at least one important fact that lies against them — a fact which shows how far these religions come short of making satisfactory response to the needs of men involved, as they are, in the dire disasters incident to human life.
This fact is their evident want of sympathy with the erring and unfortunate victims of vice and suffering.
"That good and ill is God's play,
Do not our sages say? May they not what they make, unmake again?
Mayhap in sport divine
They made your blood and mine, May they not shed it as they shed rain?"
One of the most obvious and most significant facts of history, is the fact that men do always sin. This must be affirmed of every age, and of all classes of men. Even the optimist cannot deny this. There is
170 THE NEW RELIGION.
no one generation, no nation, however civilized, who have not exhibited flagrant and repeated immorahties.
This is a fact so constant and so obvious that it demands serious consideration, both by legislators and religious teachers and moral philosophers. Among all peoples there may be found good moral precepts, a high sense of honor and rectitude in pub- lic sentiment, and, here and there, admirable exam- ples of personal purity and virtue; but this does not prove that either the Republic of Plato or the Utopia of Sir Thomas Moore, or the scheme of Bellamy is possible among men.
As to a large proportion of men, immersed in the cares of business, and absorbed by its excitements, there is, perhaps, little serious concern for moral con- sequences, and the desert of the future; and yet there are sure to come, even to these, on occasions, such a sense of ill-desert and unworthiness as to humble them in the dust. Many who are careful and solici- tous to do the right thing always, are nevertheless yet compelled to admit their failure. With Paul they are ready to say, '^When I would do good, evil is present with me."
We know that in the dying hour, if not sooner, men often charge themselves with folly, and experi- ence an imperative need of the divine sympathy and compassion.
Take men of the largest knowledge and culture — men of the highest virtue and most exemplary char- acter— do they, when facing death, do they realize no
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 17I
need of sympathy and divine compassion? Evcii the dying Son of Man exclaimed, ^^My God! My God! why hast thou forsaken me?"
If the wisest and the best come into such straits, and feel such need of appreciating sympathy, what shall we say of those who have been less perfect and fortunate in the battle of life?
The bent to sinning seems to be universal among men, and sinful indulgence is as truly characteristic of the human race as is the capacity and Instinct of worship and the conviction of duty. Human life springs into being, and enters upon its vicissitudes and anxieties, without having been consulted, having no choice in its make- up, in its environment. It inherits ignorance and infirmity. It inherits appetites and passions, which, at great cost of self denial, must be restrained. It is born to a legacy of unavoid- able sorrow and suffering. It is doomed to many a disappointment, and blighted hope. It must live in the face of inevitable death, which often comes ere the sweets of life have been little more than tasted. Per- adventure the soul wakes to the consciousness of great moral responsibility, and realizes that it is a solemn thing to fall into the hands of the living God. Are the gods capable of compassion and mercy? Do they feel the touches of sympathy for the suffering?
Thus born and thus conditioned, has man any claim upon the divine sympathy? May the chastened spirit, driven by relentless fate, and sighing for appreciation and reciprocity, look up in hope? Does Osiris, or
172 THE NEW RELIGION.
Brahma, or the good Ormuzed, Buddha, or Zeus, give any intimation that he has a heart of sympathy — that he will reach down hands of love and welcome the alien home?
What mean all the self-denial and penance, self- sacrifice and self-immolation of human beings that fill the pages of history? Are men demented — crazed? What mighty impulse has swept over them that they should go upon exhausting pilgrimages — should flee from the haunts of men to starve in the wilderness, should build altars and burn their fellow men, and be burnt by them by thousands? Do you say it is ignorance, fanaticism, folly? Grant it, but it is not the less real and horrid — not the less the outcome of the nature to which men were born. They were born to the igno- rance, the infirmity, the environment, to the influences which more than their own choice have ^^made them what they are. ' ' At any rate, in all this degradation do they not need commiseration? do they not need sym- pathy, if sympathy there be in the hearts of the gods? What a pathetic sigh of despair echoes from the words of the popular and well-to-do comedian: ^^I have worshiped to gods who do not care for me!"^
But you may be ready to say, man is not a .mere creature of fate. He is high-born, made a little lower than the angels, nobly endowed, capable of high enjoyment and endless progression. His thoughts take wide range and play with the outcropping won-
I. Menajider
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I73
ders of the universe. He has seen the beautiful, and felt the touches of its joy. He has discovered the truth and tasted its sweetness. He has entered upon a sphere of activity which is full of inspiration and hope! Aye, grant it all; and, what then? He is cut down as the flower and withers as the grass, his majestic form becomes food for worms, his earthly schemes come to naught, his purposes are thwarted, his work left imperfectly accomplished, he is cut off and taken away forever. All this at least to seeming — does he need sympathy — does he need to know that
"Earth hath no sorrows
That heaven cannot heal?"
Does he need to know that, somewhere in the beyond, the mighty catastrophe he must suffer will find recognition and compensation? He may be great as men count greatness, but he is yet the vic- tim of losses and crosses, of broken purposes and blighted hopes — he cannot escape the intermediate evil. He cannot escape the clouds and storms that come and go unbidden. He cannot pursue his cher- ished purposes to their fulfillment, ere death drops her dark curtain and the drama closes. And then what trusts are displaced, what solemn changes have come? Could he be human and not feel in this crucial hour the need of sympathy that is more than human? What, if such ^^good and ill" is thought to be indeed ^^God' s plaf — that the eternal has no heart in such a life of vicissitude, and such experience of
174 THE NEW RELIGION.
misfortune and suffering, would not raven despair crown every death scene, and render life miserable by dread anticipation? How does the poor, death- smitten soul need to feel that the great God is merci- ful and good, and that whatever else may prove to be true, He can be trusted in the direst extremities, as one that is capable of sympathizing and helpful love.
But the gods of the Cld Religion are not gods of sympathy and love. The Eternal is a God of justice, of pure and exalted spirit, far removed from the con- cerns of mankind; a God of inexorable law; or, as among the Greeks and Romans, of superhuman power, capable of every conceivable form of lust and passion. The Egyptian might indeed hope to become divine, and to dwell among the gods in the ^Tslands of the Blessed," but he must first pass the ordeal of his forty-two judges, and be weighed in the scales of truth and justice. He has no sympathy at court, and may not hope for mercy.
The Brahmin, after infinite penance and prepara- tion, may hope for absorption into the Great and Holy Being from whom, in the cycles of past eternity, the whole universe, including himself, had proceeded, but, not until prayer and sacrifice and punishment, through sufficiently repeated and protracted transmi- grations, had sublimated him into pure spirit.
The Buddhist talks of heaven and may hope for Nirwana; but not until his whole moral organism has been practically destroyed by the annihilation and obliteration of all sensibility. He must abide in
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affliction until the spiritual surgery of suffering has cut away all emotion, all passion, all desire from his nature, and he is qualified to lie down in eternal unconscious rest — his last hope — Nirwana. The regime is one of inexorable law, without a hint of divine clemency or a hope of pardoning sympathetic love.^
When Confucius was asked whether there is one word which includes all the duties of life, he answered, yes, and that word is ^^reciprocity;" so thoroughly was he penetrated with the need and power of sympathy among men. Sympathy is the outcrop and concrete expression of love. No one is complete without it, either in his suojective condition or in his objective relations. It constitutes mankind integrally one, and as men are thus one with each other in nature, they are one with God, the all Father, who, in his prime manifestation to his creatures, is declared to be love. ''As the hart panteth after the water brook, so panteth my soul after thee, O God."
What shall we say, then, of that religious cultus which recognizes no correspondence of mutual sym- pathy between the creature and the Creator, no tender-
I. A God (says Ullhorn, Conflict of Christianity and Heathen- ism, p. 30) — A God who takes pity on sinners and turns away the proud and self-reliant reverses all the old conceptions of God. The gods neither give nor receive love and the strict justice attributed to them makes forgiveness impossible. Therefore Celsus opposes the Christian God who takes the part of the wretched and those who weep and suffer.
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ness, no forgiving mercy? We happen to know, thanks to the blessed Son of Man, that He with whom are the issues of hfe is touched with the ^^feehngof our infirmi- ties,'' but the Old Masters knew it not, and they there- fore could offer no such consolation to their suffering and dying fellow men.
There is, however, deep within the nature of man an instinctive trust in the divine goodness which all philosophy, with her proofs of inexorable law and justice, cannot eradicate or suppress, and the cry of the Hebrew seer is the cry of the smitten soul the world over and through the ages: ^^O that I knew where I might find him! I would bring my cause before him, I would plead with him as a man pleads with his friend. ' '
The deep felt sense of want, and need of divine help, will not lift, even from those who know not God. How sweet the touches of generous appreciative sympathy, even of friend for friend, in the dark hours. However, after all, human arms are short in the direst extremities of the soul.
But let the victim of suffering, awaiting his inevita- ble doom, know that the Almighty Creator, who gave him being, and who is privy to all his direst needs, is the Father in Heaven, and not only able, but willing and lovingly anxious to succour and to save, and how does the whole aspect of his life and destiny change?
But this is a ray of light from the ^^New Religion" which is now soon to claim our attention. No Old Religion offers such solace. The sun of life, checkered
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 77
with many a grievous sorrow, sets in ni^ht, relieved only, at best, by the flickering hope that somehow, sometime in the cycle of revolving ages, the light may again dawn upon him, or that he may be permitted an eternal, unbroken and unconscious sleep.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Supernatural.
The Old Religions dwelt in the clouds — they scarcely ever touched foot upon terra firma. They have shed down upon men a mighty influence of bless- ing and of cursing, and history has been able to report some of their good and some of their evil, but has not been able to follow them into the heavens, where the clouds conceal them. They were born of the spirit and breathe the air of the supernatural.
There is no religion without mystery, without legend, without the supernatural, if we mean by supernatural that which has hitherto seemed unac- countable on natural principles or by natural law.
The supernatural, at least in this qualified sense, is involved in Christianity and bound up with it. That it has been a stone of stumbling and rock of offence to certain classes, there can be no doubt. Those of a philosophic turn of mind believing in the uniformity of natural law, and who habitually seek to know the how and wherefore of things, are repulsed by what implies disorder in nature, and they naturally enough refuse to go forward when they know not why or whither. Their studies of physical law and natural science have had the effect, possibly, to disqualify
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 179
them, in some measure, for the airy regions, whither the spirit alwa3^s and necessarily tends. At any rate they appreciate the advice of Paul to "'prove all thiiigs a7id hold fast only that which is good,'' With cold logic they are want to insist, that even in matters of religion men should be able to give "r reason for the hope that is within them."
But, unfortunately, however, a really good reason in matters religious does not always appear to be good to the philosopher and scientist.
The things of the spirit can only be spiritually dis- cerned— can only be appreciated by those who can rise above the realm of sense, and this he who always holds in hand his measuring line and square and com- pass finds it difficult to do.
But, really, one must not be content to abide in the merely sensuous, if he is to realize on his possibilities as a mxan. He must sooner or later outgrow the physical, must develop the psychic, must realize his relations to an informing spirit, must come to a con- sciousness of what mere matter cannot give.
But in admitting and claiming the intervention and necessity of an informing spiritual discernment, do we not throw wide open the gateway to all manner of spiritual vagaries and absurd beliefs?
It is frankly admitted that such doctrine is very liable to dangerous abuses, and as a matter of fact it has been the fruitful source of visionary and hurtful superstitions in all the ages. But without some spiritual discernment and recognition of spiritual life
i8g the new religion.
there could be no religion, and without religion men could not live.
The case, however, is not so desperate as some seem to think. We must distinguish broadly between the supernatural and the supersensual. The supernatural always transcends our reason, and, as it has been the custom to present it, '^ contradicts'^ our reason. The supersensual does neither.
Men are born with certain intuitions and appeten- cies, which underlie religion, and upon which it may be built, as upon the rocks. Those who do not properly read these intuitions out of their own experi- ence, and abide in them, are in danger of being drifted about by every wind of doctrine, and finally lost in the nethermost wilderness of superstition.
The religious philosopher will stand unflinchingly by his intuitions, his reason and common sense — which is the God given sense — and, doing this, he will walk securely on the high grounds of the supersen- sual, and attain a conscious exaltation of life and blessing never realized on the lower planes of animal life.
The effort to eradicate the supernatural from Chris- tianity has been a prolonged and earnest one. That there is much that is good and great in the Christian system has hardly been questioned by the most skep- tical and prejudiced, and it is felt to be a grand pity that it should be so embarrassed and discredited by any mixture with the miraculous and supernatural.
The efforts of Strauss and Renan are memorable in
THE OLD RELIGIONS. l8l
the history of the conflict waged against the super- natural, as it appears in Christianity; — as to the Ger- man, they are pathetic.
It has been the fashion to decry and behttle these struggles with the supernatural, but this fashion, like most other mere fashions, prevails among shallow people, who are guiltless of any great depth, either of candor or charity or learning.
Recognizing these difSculties as real and great, and respecting the candor of those who experience them, it has not been the least purpose of these pages to present the Christian system in such a light, if possi- ble, as to lessen somewhat its apparent supernatural- ism, and make it more acceptable to men of this class.
But, saying what we may, if we shall yet have something of the supernatural left in Christianity, it must seem to be little, when compared with the super- natural of the Old Religions.
In their very warp and woof they are supernatural, a fact which, by the way, has been slurred over by some who are very sensitive of the supernatural in Christianity.
I am aware that the mystical divinities of the Old Religions, in their philosophic and true signifi- cance, impersonate principles which thus take a per- manent form of expression — a kind of personality — but, granting this, we have yet to account for much that is built into their character by the fertile fancy, rendering them extremely abnormal and grotesque.
1 82 THE NEW RELIGION.
They have all the rickety conformation and disjointed features of dreams, which stamp them as wholly supernatural. Let us indulge but for a moment a glance at some of their principal divinities.
In Egypt, Osiris, in general, represents the good, as his brother Typhon does the evil, though certainly very imperfectly, since Osiris is often anything but good, and Typhon far from being purely evil.
Osiris was the son of Seb and Nut. He reigned over Egypt 450 years, traveled over the rest of the world, was assassinated, locked and sealed up in a mummy chest and thrown into the Nile. He was carried to Bybloss by the waves, lodged in the branches of a tamarisk, which, growing, enclosed him in its trunk. Isis, his wife and sister recovered the chest and took it back to Egypt, was discovered by Typhon, who tore the body of Osiris into fourteen pieces, which he scattered about the country. Isis again sought and found these pieces, except portions which the dogs and fish had destroyed. He finally emerges as Chief of the Egyptian Pantheon and Pre- siding Judge of the Dead! Supernatural enough, you say.
In the Hindu Pantheon we have Brahm repre- sented by Brahma, Vishnu and Siva, three separate avatars, constituting the Divine Trimurti (Trinity).
The most remarkable of these is Vishnu. Nine times he has been born into flesh, and the devout Hindu is now expecting his tenth incarnation.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 183
He is regarded as the Encompasser, the All Pene- trator, as the Supreme Deity forming Heaven and Earth; he is the indefinable Omnipotent, the comrade of the gods of fire, and the spacious Firmanent. He reclines on the Lotus, is fierce as the long-tusked boar, is guarded by the hooded serpent of many heads; is the primal fish of the ocean of births; is the eternal tortoise, and on his back can bear the weight of the Universe; is the man-lion and the fulfiller of space, who can at will take upon himself the form of a dwarf. Brahma, with his four heads, springs into being from his naval. He is the husband of the peerless vSita, who is so pure that even the flames of a furnace can- not take effect upon her person, and much more to the same general effect.^ In like manner the whole great mythological Pantheon is wrapped in endless legend and an all-embracing supernaturalism. After making the most liberal allowance for allegory and poetic license, one cannot but feel that the unreason- ing credulity, which the Hindu's faith implies, is sim- ply marvelous.
Mohammedanism, as compared with the Old Relig- ions, is widely different and singularly free from the supernatural. It is indeed less interwoven with the miraculous than, Christianity. There is but one God, and Mahomet is his Apostle, says Mohamme- danism. There is but one God, and Jesus, the Christ, is his Son, says Christianity.
I, See Johnson's Cyclop.
184 THE NEW RELIGION.
If one claimed to receive frequent revelations from the one God, the other claimed to reveal and imper- sonate the Almighty Father in what he did and said.
That the great name of Mohammed should inspire veneration, and even worship, can hardly surprise the student of human nature, so powerful is the religious imagination to exalt the teacher who assumes to know the will of God.
Even the matter-of-fact, non-religious, but great Confucius, has not escaped the apotheosizing ten- dency, while the mystic and spiritual Gotama was almost a born ^^Buddha,'* and, ere the first generation of Christians had passed away, it was said of Jesus in language sufficiently suggestive of philosophical speculation, — ^^In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God," and, going beyond this, — ^^the Word was God. All things were made by him, and without him was not anything made that hath been made."^
There can be no doubt that to this tendency of human nature, this ready credulity in matters religious, may be traced much that has come down to us as supernatural in Christianity.
And hence the necessity of abiding most faithfully by reason and authoritative history, in making up our conclusions as to the supernatural in our religion.
In our present state of knowledge if we accept Christianity at all, we must accept what is called the
I. John i: I, 2.
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superncttural. To reject it is historically impossible. To do so we must discredit its most sacred vouchers and invalidate its claims to truth and consistency. By definition, by reasonable construction and inference, by historical criticism and emendation, we can reduce the miraculous to a minimum, but that minimum will remain until it is removed by larger knowledge than men now possess, if removed it ever shall be.
I do not accept the current teaching that, if Chris- tianity did not include the miraculous (as the term is used) it would not be a religion at all. I cannot think that man, endowed with his great powers and his thirst for knowledge, must always grope in the dark and forever fail to vindicate his right to know what the divine order is, and his relations to it. Sometime, somewhere, he must be relieved from this conscious inadequacy of reason.
Mr. Hume's famous argument against miracles has attracted wide attention, as one absolutely unanswera- ble. It is thus stated.-
^ invariable experience is in favor of the uniformity of nature, while it is not in favor of the infallibility of human testimony; hence there is, in all cases, a greater probability of the falseness of the miracle than of the violation of the law of nature thereby implied. '*
Under the usually accepted definition of the term miracle, I am free to admit, I cannot see how the force of this argument can be resisted.
Webster defines the term miracle as ^'an event or an effect contrary to the established constitution and
1 86 THE NEW RELIGION.
course of things, or a deviation from the known laws of nature." President Seelye says: ^^A miracle shows a new force introduced into nature, by which nature is checked and changed — a miracle may be defined, therefore," he says, ^^as a counteraction of natu7'e by the Author of natter e.''^
To offset this argument of Mr. Hume, it has been found necessary to assert, as Mr. Seelye does:^
*^ist. The reasonable may have no existence.
*^2d. There is no universal standard of reason.
*^3d. There is no uniformity of nature which does not imply the supernatural!"
But, unfortunately for this argument, men go steadily forward, assuming that the reasonable does exist'y that there is a standard of reason to which all men appeal, and that there is a uniformity in the order of nature, which does not imply ^^a counteraction of nature by the Author of nature."
The reply shows the desperate strain of the effort made to escape from the argument.
I suggest that the error lies in the definition of the term, and the difficulty in our ignorance.
According to his biographers, Jesus was begotten of the Holy Ghost and born of a virgin; and the very inception of the whole mov-^ment is, therefore, you say, miraculcus. Such an origin is '^contrary to the established constitution of things." It shows ^*a new
1. Johnston's Cyclop., Art. Miracle.
2. In loco cit.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 87
force introduced into nature, by which nature is checked and changed."
But does it? Does it show any counteraction of nature by the Author of nature? What established order of things is checked and changed?
Is it an estabhshed order of nature that the domain of animated existence shall not be extended? — that no more species or genera shall be produced? Very many have been produced. We know them, have classified and tabulated them. Is it contrary to any established constitution of things, or to any law of nature, that another genus or another species shall be added? That such an event duly notified to us would be some- thing new, something different — miraculous, is plain enough, but would it be contrary to any existing order of nature? Would it oppose or antagonize, or break any law of nature?
It has been maintained by many ripe scholars, among whom was our own Agassiz, that there were different centers of creation — different genera of men, created at different times and places.^
I. The unity of man was generally conceded by the early naturalists — notably by Buffon, Blumenbach, Linnaeus and Prichard. Visey, whose work was first published in 1801, seems to have been the first among modern naturalists to call in ques- tion the specific unity of man.
Visey divided man into two species, founding his distinction mainly upon the facial angle of Camper.
In 1825 Borey de St. Vincent divided man into fifteen species.
In 1826 Desmoulins, who had previously recognized eleven species, increased the number to sixteen.
Jacquinot, in 1849, recognized three species; Dr. Morton,
1 88 THE NEW RELIGION.
But while we have not accepted this view, and hold that ^^of one blood were created all the nations of the earth/' would the addition of another genus be incom- patible -mth the ^^established constitution of things?'* Would the successive production of new types of being be in ^ ^violation" of any known law? Would it be a ^^counteraction of nature by the Author of nature?"
But you say whether there be but one genus homo, as most naturalists now agree in believing, or two, or eight, or sixteen, or sixty-three genera, as others have taught, they were not ^ ^begotten of the Holy Ghost and born of a virgin." Ah! well — ^^not begotten of the Holy Spirit?" How then begotten, pray? Not ^^born of a virgin?" True, so far as we know. The mother conditions of the human race in its origin have not been clearly given. Every human being is a child of the All Father in Heaven — child of whatever mother — Son of God. Jesus was the Son of Mary — ^^Son of God," sui generis^ ^^the only begotten, full of grace and truth." This, at least. Is the story given us of Jesus. Will those who insist upon the celebrated argument of the great English skeptic, point out what known law is here violated even by implication?
His argument is defective because it assumes that a miracle implies a violation of some natural law — a fact which is not and cannot be admitted.
twenty-two families; Luke Burke, sixty-three species; Agassiz eight, and in this he was followed by Nott and Gliddon. — John- son s Cyclop., Art. Man, by M. B. Apder§on,
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 89
We leave President Seelye with his inadmissible definition of miracle to take care of himself; but, con- cluding on this point, we insist against Mr. Hume that, so far as this miracle of genesis is concerned, there has been no disturbance of the established con- stitution of things, no deviation from any known law of nature, expressed or implied; no counteraction of nature by the Author of nature.
For a specific and expressed purpose, an addition of another order of being was made, and the incep- tion of the wonderful movement which has since fol- lowed in the world's history is provided for. ^^God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in him might not perish but have everlasting life. "
With such a paternity what should we expect in the character of Jesus? The human predominating more at first, the divine more toward the last, he grows from ordinary infancy and childhood to extraordinary, superhuman manhood. Instead of being both *Very man" and ^Very God," as the great Council of Chalcedon declared, he is neither the one nor the other, as his biographers represent him, but, and in strict accord with what we know of the laws of repro- duction and heredity, he is both the Son of Man and the Son of God. He is styled the '^Son of Man" some thirty times, and the ^'Son of God" a less num- ber of times in these written histories of him.
If such be the genesis of this remarkable character, his sphere of activity would be larger, and his power
igo THE NEW RELIGION.
greater than that of a mere man; and it should not surprise us if he should be found doing something that seems very wonderful, but it is here neither claimed nor admitted that he ever transcended his proper functions — ever disturbed or counteracted the established constitution of things.
As to what he did do, we have reason to believe, comparatively little has been transmitted to us. But he is represented as performing some thirty-seven miracles, which let us note:
He stood, with his disciples, by the fig tree, which had died at his bidding. They were amazed at his power. He said to them, have faith in God. — Mark ii: 22.
He was asleep on board a ship amid a dangerous sea. His disciples were alarmed. They aw^oke him and, trembling with fear, prayed, ^^Lord save us!" The sea at once became calm, and he said to them, ^^O ye of little faith."— Matt. 8: 25.
On another occasion the disciples were at sea and they beheld Jesus in the distance walking upon the sea. The impetuous Peter could not wait, but desired to go to meet him, and he bid him come. He started, but terrified at the surging waves, he began to sink, and cried, ^^Lord, save, or I perish." Jesus reaching, caught him, and said, ^^Wherefore did you doubt?"— Matt. 14: 29.
On one occasion his disciples tried to cure a young lunatic, but could not. The boy's father took him to Jesus and reported their failure. He immediately
THE OLD RELIGIONS. igi
effected a cure, and turning to his disciples said, ^'O faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you? How long shall I suffer you?" And, when they desired to know why they could not effect a cure, he said, ^ ^because of your unbelief."
Three times he is reported as having brought the dead to life, one after being dead ^^four days!" Among the other wonders wrought by him were, as reported, restoring sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, and health to the sick and diseased. Many of them, somehow, were conditioned on "faith.' ^ Of these thirty-seven different miracles, so-called, six are reported by two, and twelve by three of his biographers.
It must be remembered, now, that these authors wrote in an age of miracles — they were common — they were in the air. They wrote long after the events reported had transpired, twenty to sixty years or more afterward;^ and it should not greatly surprise us if their accounts should differ in some of the details — if some should report what others omit, if something of error should be mixed with the truth, nor if some things were reported as miracles that were wrongfully accredited as such. They wrote what they knew, or at least believed to be true, and this is all that should be claimed for them.
But what about being ^'inspired" by the Holy Spirit of God, to write only the truth — Well, what
I. See Haweis' Christ and Christianity, Story of the Four, PP- ^5. 43. 73-
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about it? If there are those who can yet accept the theory of plenary inspiration, let it be so. They will probably in time be compelled to abandon this view. Each writer seems to have a personality of his own. His language and style are his own. His account differs in some respects from that of each of the others. Ere the account ends they all confess them- selves to have been mistaken as to what, on certain occasions, the Master tried to teach them, and none of them lays any claim to having been infallibly directed to write what he did; even their quotations from the Old Testament are frequently forced, some- times erroneous — all of which, and more, is incon- sistent with the theory of plenary inspiration.
If,, then, anything has been reported as a miracle which is known to contradict or violate a law of nature, known to be contrary to the * ^established con- stitution of things," it must be instantly rejected, there must be error in the report — error somewhere. It cannot be historically true, and the Christian religion must not be held responsible for it.
But let us weigh these words. Many, very many things are, and must be, believed that are not known. I have used the word known. Does any one, or more, of the wonderful things done by the Son of Man, and reported as miracles, antagonize, contra- dict, violate any natural law or '^established constitu- tion of things?'' Does the established order of nature forbid healing the sick, giving sight to the blind or hearing to the deaf? What, then, is the vocation of
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 93
the physician but a contest with nature? So far from it that nature is ever seeking to do these very things herself, and, in a great majority of cases, succeeds; the broken bone knits, the wound is healed, and health restored. But there are cases in which nature seems to need a little help, and hence the need of the physician. If the physician knew more he could help more; at least there is no antagonism between him and nature, unless, indeed, he assume the role of the ^^quack, " and begin outright to antagonize nature, as he too often does.
If, then, the thirty-seven miracles, reported, are hard to understand — transcend our knowledge, let us go slow, hold them sub Judice, until we come to know whether they do actually contradict, or ^ ^antagonize" the established order of nature.
Suppose that too years ago some Watt had left his friends in Liverpool, and after less than twelve days he had returned to them again, bringing with him a score of proofs that he had in the meantime been in New York — had made the round trip across the Atlantic ! In the face of all proof everybody would have said, * ^impossible!" Or suppose some LeSage, loo years ago, had said to a friend, step into the office across the street, and wait, in six seconds I will send you a mes- sage around the world — and it is done. But everybody says, ^^Youjoke; it cannot be — it is impossible — pre- posterous ! !"
Or, suppose that but forty years ago some Bell, or Gray had said to a friend in New York City, ^^You
194 THE NEW RELIGION.
know me well, my voice and manner of speech, with its peculiar inflections and intonations; you go over to Chicago, looo miles away, put your ear to a little trumpet hanging on the wall of the Mayor's office and I will speak to you in audible tones, exactly at 4 o'clock, p.m., making allowance for difference in longitude. At that moment you shall hear me— you will recognize my voice, its peculiar inflections and cadences." Pre- posterous ! But it is done, and he has heard as per agreement ! ! !
Or suppose that some Edison, less than forty years ago, had said, ^^At midnight to-morrow I will bid the light of day flash in an instant from the all-embracing air, and light up every city on the continent."
Or suppose he should say he had in his possession a box which he had brought from the opposite side of the globe, in which he had locked up a curious speech and laid it away for future hearing, and that if his friends were curious to hear an Oriental in his own voice and words, the inflections and intonations per- fect, he would gratify them. What ! Is this Edison crazy? The puzzling challenge is accepted. He un- locks the wizard phonograph, and sure enough they instantly hear the said Oriental begin his speech. On and on he goes. The reproduction is exact. Astound- ing! What now? Would not all the doctors vote Edison in league with the devil, or be disposed to fall down and worship him? These sons of genius are not wizards, not imposters, not endowed with super, natural power. They do not even claim to be begotten
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I95
of the Holy Ghost and born of a virgin. They might each say in all truth and candor, *^the things which ye see me do, shall ye do, and even greater things than these.''
The difficulty with the supernatural in Christianity lies most in our lack vf knowledge and not probably in any conflict with the order of nature. We know full well that mystery and miracle dissolve and disappear as knowledge increases. The position attained by the profound scholar enables him to see through and comprehend a thousand things that are as inscrutable as mystery itself, to the ignorant plodders in life's pathway below.
Now, strip the reported m.iracles of Jesus of Ori- ental tropes, and Oriental extravagance, and study them with Anglo-American directness and common sen^e, and how many of them do we know to be incon- sistent with the natural order? Different from the usual order, new, strange, unaccountable they may be, but this does not mean that they must be incom- patible with natural law, did we but know the law. If you would reproduce an oratorio of Handel, an opera of M.ozart, or a symphony of Beethoven, you must know what key to touch, what note to prolong. Grant that the wonderful Son of Man knew what key to touch and what note to prolong, and you probably have most, if not all the thirty-seven miracles reported, accounted for, and this, too, without hypothecating any violation of nature's order.
It must be noted that Jesus did not claim that this
ig6 THE NEW RELIGION.
miracle power belonged to himself only. So far from it that he assured his disciples that they too could do the same things he did, and even ^ ^greater than these/* if they would but put themselves into proper relations to the work — they must have ^^faith" — must not doubt their ability to do, and herein, let us admit candidly, our trouble is doubled.
This power belongs to men, not because of any peculiar sanctity, or holiness of character, giving them closer access to God, and securing the divine help. It can hardly be said that the disciples had then been even converted. They certainly knew little of the Christ-mission and the Christ-work. But he assured them in true Oriental imagery that, ^^if they had faith, *' but as a grain of mustard seed, they could say to this mountain, ^^be thou taken up and cast into the sea, and it would be done. ' '
What now? Are we to be lifted from terra firma and suspended in mid ether? Must we at the last moment surrender reason, and betake ouraelves to faith and mystery, if we would be Christians?
Or, does the author of Christianity only mean to teach us, when his teaching is put into Anglo-Ameri- can phrase, that confidence in the result goes far toward achieving it; that devotion and concentrated effort are conditions of the largest success — that men have failed to appreciate these conditions — that human power and human effort have not been called into action and relied upon for half their capacity? Does he mean to teach that, if men, did they but
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know it, stand in the immediate presence of mighty forces, whose concealed spring they shall yet learn to touch, whose latent power they shall yet learn to develop, and command for purposes of achieving results which only seem to be supernatural?
We think of spirit. We have a consciousness that the soul is something different from inert matter. We are accustomed to think of spirit as living and having pov/er as opposed to death. But what is life and what is death? Science is making more and more narrow the chasm which separates spirit and matter — life and death. What if this process continues? Give us the nearest approach to the brink on the hither and the nither side, and may not this required '^faith," this Pistue, span the chasm and open up a new world? May it not close the circuit of available means and make the truly miraculous possible on a scale hitherto unthought of ? The human soul touches the external world at five points and wakes to conscious relations with it. What would a hundred senses instead of only five reveal to us?
Within the deep darkness of a subterranean cavern you have perhaps four senses: touch, taste, hearing, smell. Introduce a ray of light and another sense is given you, and with it behold the over-arching glory! Gleaming crystal and stalactite with every hue and image of color and beauty. We stand upon the very brink of the spiritual. Already the telegraph and tele- phone have well nigh annihilated time and space. The next turn of the wheel may give us the victory
198 THE NEW RELIGION.
over gravity and opacity, contingent only upon the use of proper means as indicated by Jesus to his dis- ciples. On all subjects and at all times, when proper tests have been made, this wonderful Son of Man has been found very much in advance of current thought. This has been more than once indicated in preceding pages of this work. He doubtless had a range of vision that ordinary mem have not. Within the larger sphere of his knowledge and power, we may suppose it were easy for him to do what might seem to us to be very wonderful — impossible. In some of these miracles he may have been incorrectly reported. The authors were human, very human, and very imperfect, and may have misapprehended some, or many, of the facts in any given case. They may have been imposed upon — mistaken — and before taking up a charge against the founder of the Christian system, or against any one else for that matter, we should know whereof we affirm. Jesus was no imposter, no spiritual mountebank, ex- ploiting unsupported pretensions before a credulous public. His reputation for candor and truth is unim- peachable. In the world's history he stands much above other men, and I submit that we are hardly com- petent to pronounce against him. With reverent spirits we may say, with the bewildered Nicodemus, '^Hqw can these things be!" But, until we attain to greater heights of knowledge and become better able to test their truth, shall we be able to intelligently reject the miracles of Jesus as false or impossible? There is too much for us and for the world in
THE OLD RELIGIONS. IQQ
Christianity to allow its claims to be hastily set aside.
I would not ask the skeptic to forego his reason, or abandon common sense, as so many seem to do, in embracing religion. This were a crime against his better nature. There can be nothing sacred enough, even in religion, to justify such a course. But if a cloud overspread the sun, shall we hastily conclude that it has left its place in the heavens? If a spot has been discovered upon its disk, shall we close our eyes to the radiant light and live our poor lives through in perpetual night ? If in the life and teaching of Jesus the Christ we find things too high for us — difficult, impos- sible for us to understand — let us not allow them to discredit our religion, or shake our confidence in what we knoiv to be good and true. We can well afford to hold them under judgment until the resolving light shall come, as come it will, we may be sure.
But after all, these thirty-seven miracles with which his biographers accredit him, are but minor miracles. Grant that his parentage and birth were as they have been reported, that he lived a blameless and very extraordinary life, that he was crucified, dead, and buried, and that he rose again to life, displaying evi- dently superhuman characteristics, and we need not stop to higgle over the question whether he once con- verted water into wine at a wedding, or whether in some mysterious way, but imperfectly reported, he fed 4,000 or 5,000 people in the wilderness. Under the lead of the principal facts, sufficiently authenticated,
200 THE NEW RELIGION.
minors and details must fall into line, and both the Christian apologist and the skeptic betray their weak- ness when they lose sight of the governing facts, and allow themselves to become engrossed with mere details and incidents. If the extraordinary life and teaching of the Son of Man — his startling revelations in the sphere of morals and religion — accord with and enforce the circumstantial and historical proof of his resurrection and ascension to heaven, we may rest assured that somehow all minor mysteries will at last dissolve and leave the sky above and about us without a cloud.
We say nothing of schools of theology with their conflicting interpretations, nothing of private and speculative beliefs in outside circles, nothing of skepticism touching religion in general; but so long as religion itself, as a system of truth, is a complex inconsistency, or an architectural absurdity, or its disciples are ignoraiit of the truths that enter into its composition, there will be necessity for repeated exploration, adoption of new definitions and ventures on higher achievements.
— Plato and Paul,
PART IIL
THE NEW RELIGION— OUTLINED.
CHAPTER XIX.
The Christ Character.
In pursuance of our purpose to find a remedy for the imperfections and infirmities of men, we turn now from the Old Religions to the New. Does it supple- ment what was found to be lacking in them? Is it better suited to the needs of mankind than were they? Is it so adapted to human wants as to justify the hope that it will become the religion of humanity? These are large and serious questions, and they demand our utmost candor and most earnest attention.
Christianity, though a comparatively new religion, has now had a history of about nineteen centuries. It came, it is said, in the ^ ^fullness of the time" — in the golden age of the ancient civilizations, when men were better prepared to understand and appreciate it than they had ever been. Egyptian theology and science had shed their light. The institutes of Menu were held in venerated authority. Buddha and Laotze ^,nd Confucius had taught mankind for centuries,
204 THE NEW RELIGION.
Pythagoras and Socrates and Plato had Hved. Stoicism and epicureanism had borne their best fruits. Greek philosophy was enshrined in tomes of papyrus; Greek and Roman science and art in imperishable monuments. Rome had thrown her doors wide open to all religions, and the light of the ages was concen- trated upon the time and the spot when and where Christianity had its birth.
It has since been presented to the consideration of more than fifty generations. As a religion it is incom- parably simple in its teachings and direct in its pur- poses. In a trial of nineteen centuries, under such enlightened observation, and before such competent judges, one would suppose that its merits or demerits would ha.ve been, by this time, so attested as to leave no division of opinion and sentiment in regard to the one or the other, in the public mind.
But this result has not been attained. Counting in all nominal with real Christians the world over, not more than one-fourth of the population of the globe has accepted the New Religion.^
What then is the matter? Is it because it antago- nizes the Old Religions, which men are slow to give
I. According to Prof. Schem, as quoted by H. W. Bellows, in Johnson's Encyclopedia, the population of the globe is 1,392,000,- 000; Roman Catholics, 201,000,000; Protestants, 106,000,000; Eastern Churches, 81,000,000. Total Nominal Christians, 388,- 000,000; Buddhists, 340,000,000; Mohammedans, 2oi,ooo,ooci Brahmins, 175,000,000; Followers of Confucius, 80,000,000; Sintoo Religion, 14,000,000; Judaism, 7,000,000; Total of all Religions, 1,205,000,000.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 205
Up? — because it requires reformation of life, which
men are slow to make? — because it involves mysteries,
which men are slow to believe? Possibly, and in
part.
Biographers,
Early in the history of his public life Jesus chose twelve men, who became his followers and constant companions, and to whom he sedulously sought to im- part a correct knowledge of his character and mission. Two of these afterward became his biographers. They were Jewish peasants, without previous distinction among men.
Mark and Luke also wrote up the story of the life and works of Jesus. Mark was the companion of Peter, who, as one of the twelve, stood at the head of the apostolic college. Mark was himself, no doubt, an eye and ear witness to much he records, and accepted Peter's account of what was done as authoritative.
Luke was the constant companion of the great apostle to the Gentiles. He was a physician — a man of somewhat wider intelligence — but was doubtless very much under the influence of Paul, the Jew, whose beliefs and opinions may be read between the lines, though he himself was more a Greek.
From these four historians, with incidental contribu- tions direct from Peter, and James, and Judas, other members of the college, and from Paul, who claims to have been a competent witness, we have learned what we know of the immediate life and teaching of the Son of Man — the founder of the New Religion,
2o6 THE NEW RELIGION.
Since the story they have written up is a most won- derful one and beyond comparison the most powerful in its yet living and wide reaching influence, touching all our most sacred interests, it is important to note their qualifications for a task so momentous. Are the facts they give credible ? Is the subject matter a legend, a painted fiction, or a true history?
Whatever else may be said of them and their work through this short and simple narrative^ they have become the venerated teachers o£ a large part of man- kind, and without pretense of fostering genius, and without the patronage of fortune, their story of Jesus is certain to outlive the most brilliant and renowned ^ ^classics.''
The subject matter of this history, prhna facie, chal- lenges our incredulity and puts upon us the necessity of questioning its authenticity at ev^ry step of our inquiry into its contents. Abiding, then, by the canons of historic criticism, are we compelled to accept these narratives as true history?
1. In the first place these biographers were well meaning, honest gazeteers, and wrote down only what they knew, or believed to be true.
This is frankly admitted by all, I believe, even by those who have shown the most hostility to their record.
2. They made no pretense to scholarship or exten- sive learning. Not one of them stood at the head of any school of philosophy, or was prominent in any such school. If John exhibits some traces of Neo-Platonic influence^ he nevertheless writes down a simple narra
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 207
tive of what he saw and heard, indulging but rarely in speculation. ^
If we except Luke and Paul, they were unsophisti- cated peasants, untrained is histronic art, and qualified only with good eyes and ears to see and hear, and with a good memory to preserve the facts, and an honest purpose to make true record of them.
Luke and Paul, with somewhat wider range of knowl- edge, do not vary, but reaiSrm and sustain the story throughout as given by their more illiterate fellow biographers.
3. They all had good opportunities to know whereof they wrote — Matthew and John especially. Their intimate and protracted acquaintance and discipleship with Jesus, their presence in moments of great stress and emergency, furnished them rare opportunities to know him — his habits and manner of life, his temper and spirit as they appeared in the flash of his eye and tones of his voice — and qualified them for painting the artless picture they have given us.
4. But they could not have been free from errone- ous beliefs and prepossession. No historian ever is. Profound scholarship, extensive travel and commerce with the world, a wide knowledge of the customs, hab- its and beliefs of men, will help the historian to rise
I. It is believed by some that John oiJy furnished the matter in substance, and that the gloss of speculation apparent in the ' work are chargeable to the compiler, who must have been an educated Greek. (See Hawies' Christ and Christianity, page 95.)
2o8 THE NEW RELIGION.
above the level of prevailing error and prejudice, and divest him of the narrower views of his countrymen; but these authors had neither large scholarship nor large commerce with the world, nor a wide knowledge of the customs and beliefs of other peoples. As already said, they were Jewish peasants. They breathe a com- mon Jewish atmosphere. They have a common men- tal furnishing made up of opinions and beliefs then current in the public mind, which were to some extent unavoidably woven into their story.
5. And then, too, they were, and the fact must not be forgotten, very much below and inferior to their Master, whose life they seek to reproduce. This is always and everywhere apparent. They found it diffi- cult to understand him. Often they could not under- stand him at all, as they frankly afterward confess. Often they misinterpreted him as they afterward dis- cover and confess. He led the way; they simply followed, often utterly surprised and confounded be- cause of what they saw and heard. He spake with self-assertion and authority. With hesitating surprise and humility they listened and treasured up in memory. Twenty to forty years afterward they wrote down what they could.
But they wrote wiser than they knew. The deep truths, the moral and spiritual significaiice and pro- found wisdom of what they somewhat mechanically wrote down has furnished themes for study by thq ^wisest and best through the ages, and yet chaUeuge^ I'eji^.W^d ^i}4 qgptiB^^d investigation.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 209
6. We are not to suppose their own views and faith were free from errors of belief, nor does this conclusion rest on any apparent discrepancies in their respective accounts. There are some such discrepancies, but they are not material. They affect the general account little more than to prove that there was no servile copying, no collusion to palm off a fiction upon the public. These errors were errors of Old Testament exegesis, errors in the comprehension of figures of speech, of tropes and allegories, in resting in the letter and not perceiving the true meaning beyond it. Of some of these errors the Master frequently sought to disabuse them but could not. Knowledge of the truth had to await the revelations of time.
That they finally caught his true meaning, and put down just those words which would convey it to the generations that were to follow is hardly probable.
They have left us a remarkable record, a record made in all honesty of purpose, and bequeathed it to us for our interpretation in the light of larger knowledge and better opportunities.
So much, it seems in candor, it is necessary to grant and predicate concerning these biographers of the Son of Man — Son of God.
While, then, we accept the history of the founder of Christianity, as given us by these authors, let us avoid the too prevalent practice of ascribing to him teach- ings and doctrines which they have not reported as his, and which in fact h^ye b^en improperly ascribe^] to him b^ ptbejr§,
2IO THE NEW RELIGION.
In order to a correct comprehension of the Chris- tian system, it has been the custom to consult, not only the Evangelists and Apostles, but the Church and Church Fathers as well. The ''Church,'" so called, assuming to be the embodiment of the Chris- tian Religion, has claimed to be its authoritative expounder; but it has made sad work of it.
The Church proper took form after the departure of Jesus Christ from among men. It grew up under the supervision of the ^ ^Twelve" and Paul, and the Fathers. Some of these have been canonized as authority in matters of religion, and their teaching is held sacred. Whatever views and doctrines they, and , the expounding church, in council assembled, expressed or endorsed, as judges of the Christian Canon, has been credited to, or charged upon, Chris- tianity. They have thus becom_e factors in the popu- lar estimate of the Christian system. Christianity is no longer the embodiment of the principles and teachings of its Founder, as illustrated by his life, but, the principles and teachings of the ^ ^Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ being but the Chief Corner- Stone." Still later, and now, it is that embodiment of doctrines and principles which are represented and set forth by the organized church.
If we would make a proper estmiate of the New Religion, as distinguished from the Old Religions, we must differentiate it, not only from the mass of specu- lation and dogma which preceded it, but also from that which has been foisted upon it, and interwoven
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 211
with, by subsequent teachers and councils. It is obviously just and proper to judge the Founder of Christianity, and Christianity itself^ by what he taught and sanctioned rather than by what others have taught concerning him and his teaching. As to matters of historic fact, we must accept the statements of his biographers; but, as to the drift and significance of what he taught, none are to be trusted as supreme authority, not even the Apostles themselves, and much less the later Fathers and Church Councils.
"The first century of the Christian era produced a large number of literary works, beyond those contained in the New Testament; and such of these works as were of genuine Apostolic origin, or were faithful representatives of Christian truth, must be sepa- rated and recognized apart from all others. There was no distinct dividing line to be drawn. The division did not make or suggest itself. The whole body of works might be graded from Matthew down to the most gross and contemptible product of superstition, but the stages were gradual all the way. Different persons differed in their comparative estimates (of the several produc- tions) though they agreed in the general range of estimate.
Down to the middle of the second century the Christians used the Old Testament for their apologetics and their polemics. We do not find in any writers earlier than Irenaeus, A. D. 202, refer- ences to the New Testament writings as authoritative, or inspired in any such sense as the Old Testament was believed to be inspired. The books were collected and studied and compared, and their respective authority determined. The informal verdict of the Church accepted certain books, and rejected others, but there were a num.ber which were on the line or in doubt, as the Epistle of Jude, the second of Peter, the second and third of John, the Epistles to the Hebrews, etc."l
1. W. G. Summer, in Johnson's Cyclopedii, Art. Bible
^12 THE NEW RELIGION.
The Council of Nice, A. D. 325, has the honor of nearly completing the Christian Canon as we have it now, though it was not formally declared complete until Pope Innocent, A. D. 405, fixed the Canon by decree as it now stands.^
But by this time great changes had been wrought in the status and methods of the New Religion.
Jesus had taught that his kingdom is not of this world — does not depend upon wealth or political power. It had its place in the transformed lives of his disciples.
But under date of A. D. 325 it was different.
The church, under Constantine, had become great and powerful. It dictated policies and made emper- ors. It held the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven — could forgive and retain the sins of men. Without its pale men could not be saved — at least such were the preposterous claims made by the ecclesiastics who assembled to sit in judgment upon the sacred canon.
The Council of Nice VN^as the first Ecumenical. It was probably fairly representative, but it is very pos- sible that those comprising it were hardly qualified for such a task. Some of them were ambitious of place and power, many of them were selfish, some of them were tools in the hands of unscrupulous leaders, and all of them liable to mistake. It is very possible that they failed to properly represent the
I. In loco cit.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 21 3
Founder of Christianity in his teaclmig^ as they cer- tainly failed to exhibit his spirit in the bitter contest they waged with each other in that council.
King Asoka, the Indian Constantine, had to remind the assembled priests at the great council which he had called to settle the Buddhist Canon, that what was said by Buddha, that alone was well said'^ but the Christian Constantine enjoined no such limitation upon the Council of Nice. Did the members of this great council incorporate nothing of doubtful inspira- tion? Were the doctrines which they approved and put upon record just such as the Master himself had delivered, or fairly deducible from them? Must we accept the compact organization then recognized as the '^Church," with its claims of power to forgive and to retain sins — to bind and to loose the souls of men, and its assumption of authority to punish heresy with faggot and flame — as the authorized expounder of Christian faith and doctrine? Shall we go to this council and a teaching church for the contents of Christianity? Or to the Founder of the Christian religion himself, as he has been presented by the historian?
The earliest expounders of Christianity did not, like the present Pope, claim infallibility. Even Paul and Peter could not always agree, nor did Paul and Barna- bas. The Apostles respectively had their peculiar views, but they all gave admirable proof that they had been
I. Max Mueller, Science of Religion, p. 138.
214 THE NEW RELIGION.
with Jesus and learned of him. The best and most influential of the Church Fathers, whose memories we revere, were farther removed from the fountain head of Christian truth, and, having to depend more upon interpretation and construction, were more liable than the Apostles to err, as they themselves give ample proof.
At any rate, we cannot conclude that their authority was such as to preclude criticism and silence doubt. Alas! under the reign of unquestioning credulity, following myth and miracle, and theological specula- tion, Christianity has been led, no one can tell how far, into the wilderness of legend and superstition.
The church is a human institution — very human in many of its features. It has dictated creeds and doc- trines and dogma, some of which accord with the teaching of the Founder of Christianity and some do not; and so true is this, that at least the old Roman and Greek churches cannot be regarded as admissible expounders of Christianity.
But did not Luther and the Reformation cut away from the church unwarranted accretions and restore Christianity to its pristine simplicity and purity? Let us see. They discarded and denounced the practice of selling indulgences; they rejected the Pope's claim
1. We cannot cut the gospels loose from their historical basis and hope to retain long the ideal beauty and truth of Christianity. We must have the root implanted in the earth before we can have the fragrance in the air. — Smyth, "Old Faiths in New Lights."
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 215
of authority to forgive and to retain sins. They replaced his authority by that of the Bible as the revealed Word of God, maxing it the infallible arbiter in matters of religion. They restored the Bible to the hands of the people, and proclaimed the right of private opinion; and all this was much for reason and the cause of religious liberty. And then, too, it must be conceded the ^^Reformation" set on foot by Luther, passed be37ond him, in departing from the errors of the Old Church. Christian people, exer- cising the right of private judgment in matters of religion, split into numerous sects, each claiming for itself some particular virtue of doctrine or of church government. But yet a great majority of all Protes- tants, always agreed, and yet agree, in accepting the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church as to all the fundamentals of doctrine and dogma as they came from her teachers and were adopted by her councils. They always agreed and yet agree in accepting the doctrine of atonement as formulated by Anselm, A. D. 1 100, and substantially the whole creed as made up A. D. 451, by the Council of Chalcedon, i,ooo years before Luther was bor
'Tf doctrines have been propagated in the name of Christianity which are absurd, irrational and impos- sible, it has been because the system of Christian truth has been misunderstood, and revelation misin- terpreted. That this has been so many times it is impossible to doubt. "^
I. Bishop Foster, in Studies in Theology, Vol. 2, p. 268.
:2l6 THE NEW RELICION.
If we abide by the life and teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ, as set forth by his biographers, we shall not go far astray, nor fail to comprehend the essence and substance of all that constitutes the New Religion; and this it is our purpose to do without the least desire to discredit other canonical authorities.
CHAPTER XX.
The Christ Character. The Christ,
It is confessedly difficult to say anything of Jesus the Christ, which has not already been said, and per- haps controverted — difficult to avoid controversy where controversy of all things is the most worthless.
Jesus, who has just been baptized, is fairly before the public, and the marvel of history has begun. *^And there came a voice from heaven saying, ^Thou art my beloved Son.' " So says Mark, chapt. i:ii. So, substantially, says Luke, chapt. 3-22. So says Mat- thew, chapt. 3:17. So also John the Baptist is reported as saying, John, chapt. 1:33, 34. Jesus is thus repeatedly and distinctly set forth as the Son of God.
Some years afterward, according to his biographers, when upon the mount of transfiguration, the same announcement was repeated: '^And behold a voice out of a cloud, saying, this is viy beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." Matt, chapt. 17: 5. This is my beloved Son. Mark 9: 7. This is my Son — my chosen, hear ye him. Luke 9: 25.
All his biographers thus start out with a very unique and wonderful subject.
2l8 THE NEW RELIGION.
Of his life previous to his baptism we known next to nothing.
After this, according to the chronologists, he hved but about three years, and was crucified as a male- factor.
Usually he spoke of himself as ^^the Son of Man." Occasionally he claimed to be the ^'Son of God," or, ^^a Son of God."
Son of Man — Son of God, and so declared by a voice from heaven. How can this be? Do we step at once from terra firma into wonder-land. Must we at once betake ourselves to myth and legend — to '^faith and mystery ?"
Well, let us realize that a most unique and wonder- ful character lies in the record of four books before us — books written by well accredited honest men. More than this, this character stands forth in the record of nineteen centuries of the world's history and challenges our notice — our criticism. It cannot be ignored. // must be accounted for.
We have the account of his biographers on this wise — He was ^ ^begotten of the Holy Ghost and born of a virgin!" Luke i: 35. '^The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. " Jno. i: 14. An incar- nation! Well, the Brahmin has had nine incarnations of Vishnu and expects another. Is this incarnation to take rank with those of the Brahmin? No matter now.
The following is Luke's account: ''The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a Nazarene virgin
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 219
named Mary, who was betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph; and the angel came in unto her and said, Hail thou that art highly favored; the Lord is with thee. But she was greatly troubled at the saying, and cast in her mind what manner of saluta- tion this might be. And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary, for thou has found favor with God; and behold, thou shalt conceive and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. And Mary said unto the angel, how shalt this be, seeing I know not a man? And the angel said unto her, the Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the highest shall overshadow thee, wherefore also that which is to be born shall be called holy — the Son of God.'^ — Luke 1 : 26, et seq.
But you say, in the face of Matthew and Luke, preposterous! a wild legend, another avatar of Vishnu, the dream of some poet's fancy. It cannot be history — brush it aside.
But grant, if you will for a moment, that it is his- tory— that these unsophisticated, truth-loving authors have given us facts^, grant that such a genesis and birth actually transpired, would the life that followed have been different? Remember a most wonderful life is upon the pages of history and niust be accounted for. Do we know enough of the resources of the all- creating power to say that a son, an ^^only Son," sui generis, could not be thus started into being and sent upon a mission.'^
But truly, it all seems very strange — very improba-
220 THE NEW RELIGION.
ble — yes. However, if you will, let us take this account of these honest, well-meaning men in hand, and follow this remarkable child into history. The mystery we enter is a deep one, it is conceded, but let us be candid and proceed.
Jesus, recognized as a man, was for years scarcely distinguishable from other men. ^^Is he not the car- penter's son, and his brethren, are they not with us?" Matt. 13: 55. But, from the date of his baptism, his life became more and more remarkable. He rapidly took on modes of thought and conduct that excited attention and partisan opposition. He evidently felt that he had a great mission to fulfill, and went directly to his work, Poor^ humble, unknown to fame, he yet evinced a dignity of conduct and authori- tative mien and method of teaching which commanded respect and the most serious attention. He soon became distinguished by gravity of character and self- assertion, and for certain great cures and miracles which he wrought, while at the same time he mani- fested the greatest humility in consorting with the poor and suffering, and evincing the deepest sympa- thy with them. His criticism of existing customs, and especially those of the wealthy classes, was unsparing; his doctrines were novel and trenchantly stated. His power as a great moral and religious reformer soon began to be felt. His manner was always kind and affectionate, even toward the lowest and meanest outcasts from society, his temper geutl^ ^nd s^^et;, tiis lif§ p, b^nedigtigrif
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 221
He did many wonderful things, mostly for the needy and suffering — ^ ^miracles" they were called, and his fame spread rapidly abroad. The populace began to throng around him, and such was the obvious common sense of his teaching that ^^the common people heard him gladly. '*
He had a mission. The angel said to Joseph, ^^He shall save his people from their sins." It was to inaugurate a new regime, to open up and establish among men the Kingdom of God, not another Jewish theocracy, but such a kingdom as had been fore- shadowed, but never understood, by the old prophets. Accordingly he began by announcing the immediate coming of '^the Kingdom of Heaven." Matt. 4: 17. Scribe and Pharisee, Priests and Sanhedrim — all the hoary institutions of the Jewish religion, stood in his way, and the bitter contest which followed and which culminated in his death on the cross, is begun.
In the mean time, a college of twelve apostles is chosen, who become his constant companions. He boldly denounces error and sin, discomfits scribe and lawyer and priest, reviews the law of Moses, pointing out its errors, and insists that it is the first duty of men not to tithe their mint, and anise, and cumin, and mechanically -^bey Moses, but to repent of their sins and seek thet ,igdom of Heaven. The storm of religious opposition soon ragesi around him, Nothing daunt^dj and r^ever losing his temper, he proclaims the solenjn tr^th, so damaging to the Jews as a jl^tion^ ^nd the Jewish institutions, and, at the ^anie
222 THE NEW RELIGION.
lime, so new and wonderful as to excite the profound- est interest in all who heard him.
But the marvel of his life and conduct becomes more marvelous.
He heals the sick, casts out devils, restores sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf, and even raises the dead again to life! At least, so it is reported, and so it is believed — reported by four biographers, good men and true, reported by the college of twelve apos- tles, reported by other contemporaries, including Paul, and not denied even by his bitterest enemies. Of course his fame spread abroad. Men everywhere marveled, saying, among other things, ^'What man- ner of man is he?'*
Teaching — speaking such words of wisdom as never man spake, encouraging the poor and outcast, and aiding the needy and suffering by helpful ministries, and exhibiting a pure and spotless life which ever seemed to flow from exhaustless fountains of love, he went down to death as a malefactor amid his wonder- stricken countrymen.
But the end is not yet. The mystery deepens in the record of these four books.
The life you behold has never been approached in its principal characteristics. His self-assertion and exercise of authority on the one hand, and his evident humility and sympathy with the poorest and lowest of men on the other, have amazed men. His acts and his words were, respectively, a series of perpetual sur- prises, but always tending to deepen the impression gf
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 223
his essential goodness. He taught with a well poised authority that none could resist, and few could ques- tion. The most startling announcements fell in quick succession from his lips — announcements that crossed all previous lines of thought, and turned professional moralists and theologians upon their heads. His criticism of the Law of Moses, and his interpretation of Holy Writ; his pretensions to authority, as dictating a higher law and inaugurating a new moral and relig- ious order; his power displayed in miracle, and his asserted kin-ship and communion with God, confounded the most credulous, and the most friendly, and chal- lenged universal skepticism.
^^I am the way, the truth, and the life. '^ John 14: 6. ^^I am the vine, ye are the branches." John 15: 5. i' * * without me ye can do nothing. " ^^I and my Father are one." John 10: 30. ^^Who hath seen me hath seen the Father." John 14: 9. *^A11 power is given to me, both in heaven and in earth." Matt. 28: 18. What pretensions are these? How border- ing upon the insane to be made by a poor peasant without the prestige of rank, or position, or learning!
At one time he so grew upon public favor that they wanted to take him and make him king, John 6: 15, but he refused! After the great temptation, he never felt the touch or pressure of political ambition or worldly fame. But by the magic of his easy presence he attracted men to closest sympathy and fellowship. Social, genial, free from prejudice and caste and cant, he went about doing good to all, finding opportunity of
224 THE NEW RELIGION.
course most frequent among the suffering and forlorn poor. In short, he was at once so hke and so unlike other men, as to confuse and confound the most saga- cious student of human nature.
But the mystery deepens. He has come into con- flict with religious bigotry and intolerance. He shrinks from no responsibility and no danger. Scribe and Pharisee are wrought into frenzy. They curl the lip of scorn, and mutter threats. It is not strange that he should anticipate violence at their hands — that he should say to his disciples: ^^The Son of Man shall be betrayed into the hands of men, and they shall kill hira.'^ Matt. 17: 22. It was but the anticipation of that foresight which comprehended the impending danger. But, when he added, "And the third day he shall rise again.'' ^ What then? Rise again! Rise again ! ! What could this mean ?
But on occasions he reiterates the declaration with particularity of detail and circumstance. What hallu- cination can it be! Does his insanity grow upon him? His biographers afterward admit they did not — could not — understand what this ^'rising again'' on the third day can mean.
But sure enough, the Son of Man ere long is betrayed into the hands of sinful men. They kill him, and on the third day he rises from the dead. At least, all his biographers say so. All the Apostles say so. They had seen him tried and condemned. They had seen him expire on the cross — had seen him buried, and yet they all affirm that he did rise again^ and they ^re
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 225
all honorable and truthful men — except Judas. Very many others, including Paul, say he rose again.
They do not say he rose again on mere report, or public rumor. The}^ say, we know it, for we have seen him. And he took special pains to prove it to us, Luke 24: 39-43, to identify himself as the risen Lord. He talked with them, ate with them, traveled with them, Mark 16: 12, made appointments to meet them, Mark i6: 7, reminded them of what he had taught before his crucifixion and supplemented it by additional teaching. He banished every doubt, even from the mind of the skeptical Thomas, Jno. 20: 27, that he had on the third day risen again. He was seen by the two Marys, and Joanna and other women, Luke 24: 10. He was seen by two disciples going to Emmaus, Luke 24: 15, 31. He was seen by the col- lege of apostles, Luke 24: 36, to whom he showed himself alive after his passion *^by many infallible proofs, being seen of them forty days, and speaking of the things pertaining to the Kingdom of God." Acts i: 3. He was seen by ten apostles in an upper room, Jno. 20: 30, and again by the eleven, Mark 16: 14, and Jno. 20: 26. He was seen by seven apostles at the Sea of Tiberias, Jno. 21: 12, and by the eleven on a mountain in Gallilee. Matt. 28: 17.
Paul, who was so profoundly impressed by the incredible fact that he never ceased to talk of it, and to preach it, says ^^he was seen by more than 500 at once, and, last of all, he was seen by me also ae one born out of due time," i Cor. 15: 5-8*
226 THE NEW RELIGION.
How now, shall we brush the story asl^e? Or, is the Son of Man — Son of God — begotten of the Holy Ghost and born of a virgin — outgrowing his humanity?
But the mystery deepens. Before his crucifixion Jesus had said to his disciples, *^1 came forth from the Father and am come into the world.'' ^^Again I leave the world and go to the Father." Jno. i6: 28. ''Yet a little while I am with you, and then I go unto him that sent me." Jno. 7: 33. But he was too much above them. They could not comprehend his meaning.
Very soon after his resurrection he said to Mary, who was the first to recognize him, ''Go to my breth- ren and say to them 'I ascend to my Father and to your Father, to my God and to your God.' " Jno. 20: 17. But how dark was all this! Forty days after his resurrection, from the midst of a group of his disciples, on Mount Olivet, having said, as they afterward remembered, "If I be lifted up, I will draw all men after me," (Jno. 12: 32,) he was taken up and a cloud received him out of their sight! Mark 16: 19; Acts i: 19; Luke 24: 51.
And all this strange story is told continuously of him who was said to have been begotten of the Holy Ghost, a'nd Avas born of Mary; who was baptized by John, and announced from Heaven as the Son of God — of him who lived as an humble peasant on terms of familiarity and affection with his associates, "ate with publicans and sinners," Matt. 9: 10, went about doing ^'ood among the poor and needy — all is said of
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 227
him who stood innocent and silent in the judgment hall, acquitted and yet condemned by Pilate, put to death by a mob, praying with his last breath for his murderers — ^ ^Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," and at last raised from the dead and taken to Heaven!! What now? The skeptical Thomas exclaimed, in the crucial hour of his doubt, ^^My Lord and my God!''
What conception of his character is possible? Can contrarity take on the color of consistency? The pano- rama passes and all parallels disappear. In the record of these four books he stands forth an unsolved mystery — an abiding wonder character, yrt challeng- ing alike our faith and our skepticism.
But can we not brush the incredible story aside as a dream of some disordered fancy — as a myth born some- where in the realm of fancy? Was not Romulus miraculously saved by a wolf? and, afterwards, did not a whirlwind and cloud take him up out of sight? Was not Sakya Mouni the son of a prince, a hermit in the wilderness, a great preacher of new doctrines, born as many times ^^as there are leaves in the forest," then enthroned as a god and worshipped as Buddha? No. We cannot brush aside this story as we do the legends about Romulus and Sakya Mouni
The whole life of Romulus is prehistoric. He emerges as a myth in an age of myths. He has little place in what pretends to be history. There is scarcely a trace of him to be found in the institutions or the thought of the world.
228 THE NEW RELIGION.
And Sakya Mouni, too, is prehistoric. His reputed high birth, his strange and unnatural Hfe as a recluse in the wilderness, are stories from the legendary past. Tradition has delivered him to us as a great reformer. The legend breaks down under the weight of utter improbability, and it may well be doubted whether the traditional Buddha ever had a personal existence. There is no reliable proof of it — not a syllable.
We brush aside these stories, but the story of Jesus we cannot brush aside.
Jesus came upon the stage in the ^ ^fulness of the time,'' (Gal. 4: 4,) in the palmy days of Roman civili- zation. History had already enshrined the learning and the arts of Greece. The genius of her statesmen, her philosophers, her orators and poets, stood full- orbed in the zenith of her glory. Augustus was upon the throne. It was ^ ^Rome's golden age." History and criticism never commanded greater ability nor wrought better results. It was no time for imposi- tion upon public credulity. The disappointed and chagrined Jew was the sworn enemy of the Son of Man, and stood ready to expose and suppress him.
We cannot brush this story aside, because we know those who presented it to us. We know where they lived and how they did. We know Peter and James and John as well as we know Solon or Seneca or Epictetus. We know Paul and Luke as well as we know Cicero and Pliny. And we know them, too, to be every way as trustworthy. Nor did what they say
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 229
of Jesus, let it be remembered, drift down through dim centuries of tradition and superstition.
One of the twelve whom he had chosen betrayed his Master and then hanged himself. Within a few days after the departure of Jesus, the remaining eleven thought best to choose a successor to ^^Judas" ^^from among those," said Peter, ^^who have companied with us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, from the time he was baptized of John, until he was taken up from us." (Acts i: 21, 26.) Why? What for? ''To be an eye-witness with us of his resurrection,'^
The facts are spread abroad among the Jews. Within a few days we have the Pentecost; and Peter, standing up with the eleven (Acts 2: 14, et seq.), said to the very men v/ho had planned and executed the crucifixion, ^^Ye men of Judea, and all ye that dwell at Jerusalem, be this known unto you and hearken to my words. * * Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God among you by the miracles and wonders and signs which God did by him, in the midst of you, as ye yourselves know, being delivered, '^ "^ ye have taken, and, by wicked hands, have crucified and slain, whom God hath raised up, having loosed the pains of death — this Jesus hath God raised up, whereof we are all witnesses. ' '
Was this appeal to matters of fact denied? Was this home thrust resisted? Was this the setting of a myth? the style and jugglery of an imposter? Why did not the crafty officials who had just compassed his
230 THE NEW RELIGION.
death, Instead of being * ^pricked in their hearts and crying out, men and brethren, what shall we do?" — why did they not face Peter and denounce the whole story as false?
Within two years Paul is converted (Acts 26: 13), and with full knowledge of the facts, not only endorses the story as true, but makes it the basis of his preach- ing everywhere throughout the most remarkable and successful gospel ministry ever accomplished.
Within eight years the story of this unique and superhuman character, attested by hundreds and thousands of ardent disciples, spreads over Judea and out into Syria, and a church is organized at Antioch, taking the name of Christiaii. Acts 1 1 : 26. Where is there time or place for myth and legend? Could a myth be born in a day, and be made to play such a roll, at such a time, in such a country, under such circumstances?
We cannot — the great Strauss could not — brush aside this story. It is too much rooted in the history of the time and in all subsequent history.
Whence the mighty changes that gave birth to our Anno Domine calendar? Whence the ideal character which, says Mr. Leckey, ^ ^through all the changes of eighteen centuries, has inspired the hearts of men with an impassioned love, lias shown itself capable of acting on all ages, nations and temperaments and conditions, has been not only the highest pattern of virtue, but the strongest incentive to its practice, and has exercised so deep an influence that it may be
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 23I
truly said that the simple record of three short years of active life has done more to regenerate and soften men than all the disquisitions of philosophers, and all the exhortations of moralists.^
What, kind reader, can we say now of this remarka- ble child, said by Matthew and Luke to have been begotten of the Holy Ghost and born of a virgin? Could his career have been what it was on any other hypothesis?
Nineteen centuries have failed to give us any other or better account of the ^^Son of Mary" than that given by the unsophisticated peasants whom he chose to follow him; and, however overwhelmed by anoma- lous character-phenomena, we are yet face to face with a broad necessity that compels his acceptance as a genuinely historical character, which we cannot, if we would, displace from the record of events. His place in history as a great reformer, as the founder of the Christian system, as one that has influenced the world as no one ever did or could, mtcst be conceded. Grant that Jesus was begotten of the Holy Ghost and born of a woman, as these authors agree in assuring us, we miust then expect a superhuman career. It would border on the grotesque and ludicrous to claim such a parentage for an ordinary or purely human life.
But accepting the account given, and the life and character of the Son of Man could consistently be what
I. History of European Morals, Vol. 2, p. 9.
232 THE NEW RELIGION.
they are represented to be — what we see them to be, standing out in nineteen centuries of past history — symmetrical in their origin and in their end? Does not such a career as that of Jesus Christ, impHcitly assert and require something superhuman in his origin?
But, while some have had difficulty in going so far with the Evangelists as to believe that Jesus was really the Son of God, there are others who hasten away to the other extreme and hold him to be ^^very and truly God," * ^co-equal with the Father," in all the attributes of Omniscience, Omnipotence and Omnipresence.
There have always been two classes of men. Those of one class are more reverent, more inclined to believe and to trust. They are ever ready to follow leaders and to exalt them. They make heroes and canonize saints.
Those of the other class are more egoistic. They have more personal individuality. They are the last to exalt leaders or to canonize saints.
It would be very natural for the former, and they are largely in the majority, to ^'magnify the Lord," to sink the human and exalt the divine, in the character of the Son of God. And it would be as natural for the latter to eliminate the supernatural, to sink the divine and exalt the human. Accordingly the two classes make up very different opinions as to the origin and nature of the Founder of Christianity, and very different opinions as to doctrines and creeds.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 233
The former are fairly represented by the Council of Chalcedon, A. D. 451, which has the honor of com- pleting the formula of Christian doctrine, as held ever since by all orthodox churches, Catholic and Protestant.
The article relating to the nature of the Christ, as formulated by this Council, is given as follows by Prof. Schedd:^ Jesus Christ is perfect as respects Godhood, and perfect as respects manhood. He is truly God and truly man, consisting of a rational soul and body. He was begotten of the Father before creation, as to his Deity; but in these last days he was born of Mary, the mother of God, as to his humanity. He is one Christ existing in two natures, without mixture, without change, without division, without separation, the diversity of the two not being at all destroyed by their union in the person, but the peculiar properties of each nature being possessed, and concurring to one person and one substance.
It must be admitted that a large majority of all pro- fessing Christians during all the fifteen following cen- turies of the history of Christianit}^, have accepted this view, and a large majority still accept and hold it; and this is admitting much in its favor.
Of those who have not been able to accept this view of Christ's essential deity, there are various opinions as to his nature and comparative divinity, ranging from those of Arius to those of Channing and other Unitarians.
I. Johnston's Cyclop., Art, Christology.
234 '^^^ ^^^ RELIGION.
Without desiring to extend a discussion which promises so Httle in the way of practical utiHty, I can see no reason for taking issue with the account given by his four biographers as plainly given.
If indeed he were begotten of the Holy Ghost, and born of a virgin, then were he both the Son of Man and the Son of God. The Son participates in the nature of both parents — this is physiological law as we know it.
If this law is to hold universally — and we believe in the uniformity of nature — Jesus was both the Son of God and the Son of Man, and we shall find that his life and mission fit unto this view better than into any other and is consistent throughout. If this view thus presented by the Evangelists be the true one, then this Son of Man, Son of God, belongs properly neither to the genits homo nor to the ge?ius deus. He 1*^ sui generis — the ''only begotten son^^' and born to a larger sphere of activity than the merely human — to a specific mission and destiny; and this obviously accords with the authoritative declaration, ^^God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life," (Jno. 3: i6)-^-a purpose and mission one may well think too great to be entrusted to a mere man.
CHAPTER XXI.
Jesus an Exemplar.
However the life and character of the Son o^ Man ma}^ impress us as being somehow above the human, especially in their later phases, there can be no doubt that for the most part of his earthly career he lived as a man among men, and that as such he is best known to history.
Those who feel compelled to regard him as merely the highest style of a man, excelling others only in his superior moral and spiritual development, say, and with reason, that so regarded his life would be more really exemplary and inspiring than it could be if he should be considered in any degree superhuman, and especially so if he is regarded as very God.
Without wishing to detract from the merits of this view, I think it may be said that any one who should be able to resist all temptation, as he did, and live a life of ideal perfection, be he ever so human, could hardly be looked upon by his more imperfect fellows otherwise than as possessing some advantages of birth or education or environment which had been denied to themselves. If to be a true and helpful exemplar, one must live on the same plane, and havg
236 • THE NEW RELIGION.
the sam^ infirmities, that those who would follow have, then it may well be doubted whether our best men may be held up as exemplars; for there can be no doubt that there are hereditary differences among men, and that the inborn tendencies to vice in some are much stronger than in others. Success under great difficulties and temptations is always inspiring, and this the devoted son of Mary most gallantly achieved.
It is much that he placed before us an ideal charac- ter, even though he had superior powers, especially as we know that in any just estimate of our characters, due allowance will and must be made for any disad- vantages or weakness we had suffered.
However this may be, the Lord Jesus certainly gave full proof that he was capable of the most human feelings and sympathies. What could be more tender and touching than his oft-repeated generous ministries among the poor and suffering? What more beautiful than the interest and affection he manifested toward the little ones which fond mothers familiarly pre- sented to him, or the ready and unqualified appreci- ation of the penitent, even among the lowest and most abandoned. In the case of the frail woman taken in adultery could the mercy have been larger, or the sympathy deeper, or the encouragement to a better life stronger, had the verdict, ^ ^neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more," come from the most human lips? In all these early years of his life he was not in the habit of going where others could not hope
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 237
to follow. He went in easy intercourse among all classes — among publicans and sinners, eating and drinking with them, proof of born companionship. He sought opportunities, as any others could, to render assistance to the needy. He taught men, as best he could, to walk in the pathway of duty, him- self always living in such a way as that he could sa}^, follow me. Was Socrates or Seneca, Marcus Aure- lius or Epictetus a more approachable, a more inspir- ing exemplar?
Unlike the Brahmin Yogin, the Buddhist recluse, or the Mohammedan Fakir, he lived, apparently at least, on the same plane with other men, and on terms of the most familiar intercourse. If he attained to greater heights of moral and spiritual power and per- fection than others, he never failed to leave behind him an example of unaffected humility and charming companionship, from which the weakest of mortals could draw inspiration and hope. It is much that he gave us an ideal toward which we may aspire, much that he gave it form and setting in purely human con- ditions, and, if he appear superhuman at all, he does so scarcely less in the elegant finesse and charm of his fellow-like experience, and the delicate and inspir- ing touches of the humane, always so characteristic of his intercourse among men, than in what he did in the more inexplicable denouements of his career.
If, in the later developments of life among men, he outgrew his humanity more and more, he yet breathed the atmosphere of human life and shed upon his dis-
238 THE NEW RELIGION.
ciples and friends the fragrance of the most tender and affectionate sympathy.
But his career as an exemplar is ended. Behold the Son of God! Inexplicable, astounding phenomena are now witnessed; authoritative, sententious teach- ing, strange predictions concerning himself, his trans- figuration! his death and resurrection! What shall we say but that he is passing beyond the outermost range of human infirmity, to the realization of his higher life as the Son of God? And then opens that wonderful Epiphany of fort}^ days, during which he glided so lightly along the borders of the infinite, until he ascended ^'to my Father and to your Father, to my God and to your God.''
CHAPTER XXII.
Jesus a Teacher.
As a teacher of men, wise and capable, Jesus is winning more and more the confidence of the world. If he ever did wrong, or made mistakes, the fact has not been authenticated.
^^Wisdom," said Solomon, ^^is the principal thing," but by wisdom he meant, no doubt, a great deal more than mere knov/ledge. He meant that capacity of wise choice and prudence which keep men from mak- ing mistakes and falling into hurtful errors.
The Son of Man possessed this wisdom. He has a place in history, not as a philosopher, or scholar, or statesman, but as a great teacher, nevertheless. He was not distinguished for possessing, or, at least, evincing wide and varied knowledge, but for possess- ing the right kind of knowledge, and just the kind of knowledge which always served his purpose. There is much knowledge that is not worth the getting, and some even the worse for having. Some very industri- ous seekers after knowledge have made the mistake of looking upon it as an end, whereas it is, at best, but a means to an end. It is as incumbent upon those seeking knowledge to inquire for what good, cui bono, as it is for those seeking wealth, or fame, cr
240
THE NEW RELIGION.
power. But the fact is, all these classes of seekers too generally fail to make such inquiry. Knowledge is useful in proportion as it tends to make one wise, and enables him to achieve results. He who makes no mistakes will always succeed. He never stumbles and falls, is never compelled to retreat and begin anew. He is as wise as he needs to be, to be perfect, and perfectly happy. He will fill up the measure of life's duties and attain happiness, the divinely appointed goal of life.
The Son of Man made no mistakes, and, we may believe, completely accomplished his mission. He went directly and continuously from Egypt to Canaan — there were for him no forty years of weary wander- ing in the wilderness.
We know not, nor need we care just now to know, how it came to be that he knew more and better than Moses, but he did. Moses had been taught the learn- ing of Egypt, which was varied and great, he had been on Sinai, and held secret council with the Most High. But in'wisdom Jesus stood above him.
The lips of the Old Prophets had been ^^touched with coals from the altar." They were accustomed to holding converse with God. They had had strange glimpses into the future — moments of seraphic inspira- tion and foresight. But, somehow, the Son of Man was yet above them. It had been well had their teachings and warnings been heeded; and the ^^Law," given by Moses had its sanction from Mount Sinai. But it remained for the son of Mary to disclose the
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 24I
true intent and full significance of the ^^Law," and the prophetic teaching as well. Matt. 22: 40.
As given in that early age, this teaching was suited to the capacities and needs of a peculiar people — the conditions of that dark age. But in the ^^days of the Son of Man" it needed modification and supplement. The son of Mary had the penetration to see through all, to understand all. He had no censure for Moses, or for the prophets. But without offensive criticism he thrust the keen blade of criticism into the Law of Moses and the teaching of the prophets, and laid open their defects. ^^Ye have heard it was said," * ^^butlsay," etc. Criticism, supplement. ^^Whence hath this man this wisdom and these mighty works?"
The standard of duty, high enough for a dark age, now needed raising. The thought of the world was rising out of types and symbols. It was throwing off, more and more, the external and spectacular. The practice of rites and ceremonies, the killing of bulls and goats, and the burning of incense, are no longer sufficient. More enlightened men began to feel that above and beyond this display of types and S3^mbols there is a more spiritual realm, which all these external and mechanical contrivances failed to set forth. A new cultus was needed. Moral obliga- tions must be more closely and clearly defined, a higher standard of duty raised. But who could do it but him, who '^spake as never man spake?"
To impart a better conception and ideal of God, to disclose the deeper and true significance of the Mosaic
242 THE NEW RELIGION.
and prophetic teaching; to interpret and give true meaning to the ^^commandments," to amplify the code of prevailing ethics, and to open up the way to another and better life, as he did, goes much farther to show forth the wisdom of this great teacher than the apt and overwhelming replies he made from time to time to the astute lawyers and hypocritical bigots who so sedulously sought to entangle him in criminal incon- sistency. And yet, how peculiarly happy and over- mastering were these replies. ^ ^Render unto Caesar the things wliich are Caesar's," etc. Indeed, such were his easy mastery in all these ^ ^passages at arms" that ere long all became afraid of him, and no man ^ 'dared to ask him any more questions" with a view of embarrassing him. He never became befogged with doubt or tangled in the meshes of their casuistry. He never lost his poise, or yielded his vantage ground. Secure himself in the fortress of truth and conscious rectitude, it seemed the easiest thing possible for him to rout and discomfit his enemies and put all their intrigues and subtility to shame and confusion.
Those who heard him were constantly surprised. *'He spake as never man spake" — this was the feeling.
Coming out of the moral darkness that then brooded over the nations, he unfolded the deep things of man and of God. He walked easily and firmly forward where others stumbled and fell. He mounted upon heights never before trodden, and to which men have found it difficult to follow. The more we study him
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 243
the more profoundly convincing — the more marvelous he becomes.
Since he taught in Gallilee the world has made advancement in various kinds of knowledge. Has he been found in error? Were he teaching now, would he teach differently? Other wise men, and even philo- sophers have been outgrown. They have been found to be in error at points. Were they living they would modify their teaching — would the son of Mary? So far from it that it is becoming more evident as knowl- edge increases that he still leads all other teachers, even in matters scientific and philosophical, where he made no pretensions to leadership. This may seem to some extravagant, but most frankly, for one at least, I believe it to be true.^
Nor must we fail to note that he always had the courage of his convictions. Few have ever had such courage, and these have gone to the stake with scarcely an exception.
He looked beyond the surface. He held sham and pretense in contempt. He taught the truth as it stood related to the intent and purposes of the soul.
I. Above the intermediate levels of common human nature, across the intervening distances of history, an image of solitary majesty stands out before the mind, and the view of that sublime character, rising from the midst of our low, monotonous human attainments, clearly outlined against the soul's horison in its won- derful elevation, is an inspiration and a joy, awakening the whole moral enthusiasm of our being. Dr. Smyth, in "Old Faiths in New Lights," p. 227.
244 THE NEW RELIGION.
He traversed prevailing customs, and with inflexible fidelity exposed their hollowness and their iniquity.
He laid open the errors and the bigotry of syna- gogue and Sanhedrim. He unmasked the Scribe and Pharisee. He exposed the miserable travesty of ethics and religion, as presented by Rabbi and priest. His teaching went to the heart of matters ^ ^sharper than any two-edged sword, even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and mar- row, discerning the thoughts and intents of the heart.'' Heb. 4: 12.
It was so different, so radical, and withal so damag- ing to the pride and pretensions of men in authority that it had within it from the first, as another has said, ^^the shadow of the cross. "^ The narrow- minded bigots, who had assumed to teach by authority, could not brook the indignity his teaching implied. Humbled, chagrined, embittered, they knew not what more or better to do with this Gallilean peasant, who had so presumptiously assailed their teaching and their authority, than to kill him; and kill him they did.
As a teacher he dealt chiefly with ethics and relig- ion, subjects that lie very close to all the great inter- ests of men. The truth here is too sacred to admit of subterfuge or tampering. It must be set forth in its simplicity and directness. He addressed himself to the dangerous task without protection and without
I. Jos. Parker.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 245
hope of reward. Such a school had never been opened, such a teacher the world had never had. In the love of the truth he taught, for the love of the truth, he was sent to the cross. No one, not even Confucius, ever so captivated the hearts of his pupils. None ever so comprehended the nature of man, or opened up to him a destiny so hopeful. None ever sustained a character so perfect. After 1,900 years of attentive listening and careful examination, the verdict of the world is the verdict of the Old Scribe; **Master, thou hast well taught."
CHAPTER XXIII.
Jesus a Philanthropist.
Finally, let us indulge for a moment another view of the more human characteristics of the Son of Man.
His biographers represent him as living a life com- pletely dominated by love. It is the very essence and spirit of love to help and to make happy the object loved — to do him good in every possible way; and this Jesus did habitually. There were none so poor or degraded whom he did not recognize as possessing a nature which allied them to God and made them brothers to himself.
^^Love," said Paul, ^^suffereth long, and is kind; love envieth not; love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things;" all of which he easily read out of the character of the exemplary Son of Man. How he suffered long and was kind, how he bore himself meekly and behaved himself seemly, how he sought not his own good but that of others, endured provo- cation, rejoiced in the truth; how he endured all things, makes up a large part of the story of his won- derful life.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 247
It may be thought that, in denouncing the Scribes and Pharisees as hypocrites, he manifested a spirit of anger and hate. Mark tells us, indeed, in so many words, that ^'he looked round upon them with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts." But this view does great injustice to his character.
In this denunciation, as often elsewhere, his language is highly figurative — oriental, and his metaphors must be taken in their meaning.
To characterize certain men as a generation of vipers seems indeed harsh to our ears, and when he applied this language to the Scribes and Pharisees how shall it be understood? Not certainly as imply- ing personal enmity. When the Baptist went preach- ing in the wilderness he noticed among his hearers certain Scribes and Pharisees, and turning upon them he addressed them as a '^generation of vipers." He used a common trope expressive of his conviction that, though teachers and leaders of the thought of the age, they were nevertheless egotistic and hypocritical. It is not at all probable that he held any personal ill-will against them. He knew of their claims to superiority, how they gloried in being the children of Abra- ham, and how, under all these professions, there lay concealed, as a serpent, a thorough and blighting selfishness, and hence his metaphor.
Precisely the same may be said of Jesus. His lan- guage sprung not out of personal bitterness and hate, but out of the fact, well known to himself, of their habitual and persistent hypocrisy in posing before the
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public as being better than they really were at heart.
^^How shall ye escape the damnation of hell?" Terrible words, you say, are these. Can they be in accord with the spirit of love with which he is so gen- erally accredited? This damnation of hell can mean nothing more than condemnation in the light of truth, a necessary consequence of their hypocritical conduct — a threatened result over which he felt the deepest sorrow. That he only denounced their unreasoning bigotry and obstinate hypocrisy, is made plain by the term hypocrites, which he does not fail to repeat, and by what he charges them with doing. That he was perfectly free from personal ill-will and bit- terness, must be admitted, since, putting these same several parties together, he includes them in that pathetic lament over their national capital: '^O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how oft would I have gathered thee together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wing, but ye would not." And then, in a few days, when these same Scribes and Pharisees had suc- ceeded in nailing him to the cross, we discover his true feelings for them as men in his prayer on the cross:
^'Father, forgive them, they know not what they do!"
No one act, or any dozen, exhibits the whole moral character of the actor. There is within the sinner a whole world of moral capacity and goodness, which we are liable to forget, when we see one doing what we believe to be wrong, especially if he be an enemy
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 249
> — a fact which the Son of Man never lost sight of, and which underhes the injunction, '^Love your enemies." He could
* * '^- "Hate the sin And yet the sinner love."
His fierce denunciation was leveled against their crimes, their hypocrisy and selfishness, which must inevitably entail upon them ^^woe! woe!" We must let his dying prayer interpret Lis bold, earnest, faith- ful words, when, in the very crisis of his mission he felt it to be incumbent upon him to stand unflinch- ingly for the truth, and to take every responsibility which his great work involved.
If we look among the great philanthropists of his- tory we shall find no parallel to the wonderful Son of Man.
In a celebrated passage from Rousseau we have a comparison between the Son of Sophroniscus, the reputed father of moral philosophy, and the son of Mary, the Founder of the New Religion.
They both stood by their convictions of duty in the face of ignominy and death, and were both murdered in consequence. Socrates approached nearer in char- acter to Jesus than did Plato. He could see more in man than did his illustrious pupil. He felt the pulses of a common brotherhood which Plato did not. He had convictions of duty toward all classes of men — certain qualms of ccnscience which never seemed to trouble the great Plato.
250 THE NEW RELIGION.
He had an inveterate passion for ' 'philosophizing and testing things."
He beheved that men were in error, and his benevo- lent interest in them prompted most assiduous efforts to aid and help men to better views. It was a strong conviction laid upon him by the gods. In his fidelity to the truth as he understood it, and in his antipathy to falsehood and pretense and shams, he was no mean prototype of the great Gallilean, who was to follow him. '^I choose to obey God rather than men, and so long as I live and breathe I will never cease philo- sophizing and exhorting any of you I may chance to meet, as I have been wont." These were among his last brave words.
Mr. Blackie ascribes to Socrates a '^fine erotic passion for human beings — a divine rage for humanity, ' ' which was the inspiration of his hfe, and ''which put into his hand the golden key to the hearts of all teach- able men."^ If wa grant so much we must not fail to note that this "divine rage for humanity," in Socrates, differed very much from the "love that so loved the world" in his successor. The one Master sought to respond to the needs of men as he himself saw them, and in doing so not unfrequently mortified and offended them. The other sought more to respond to the needs of men as they were realized iii their own experienee,?indi in doing so elicited their love and grati- tude as their voluntary benefactor. The philanthropy
I. Four Phases of Morals.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 25 1
of the philosopher exhausted itself chiefly on one line of effort for the good of men; that of the Savior took a wide range through the whole realm of want and suffering, and proffered every variety of needed help.
We have heard not a little of platonic love, ancient and modern — and the modern, for the most part, is but a sorry carricature of the ancient. As advocated and probably experienced by Plato, it was a genuine and pure affection. It was the attachment which exists between highly cultured and congenial spirits. The ideally perfect was the abstract object of this love.
As a matter of fact, Plato's philanthropy, if such it may be called, had severe limitations. He looked upon the ignorant masses with little more affection or interest than upon so many mere animals. There was no human feeling he would not quickly sacrifice to a cold perfection of character, suited to his ideal.
Jesus, very unlike Plato, cared little for speculative philosophy. The happiness of mankind depends upon the sensibilities — upon the state of the affections, more than upon the intellect or knowledge, and he is drawn towards men because of their capacities for happiness. These he finds in all men — hardly less in the lowest, than the highest, and all men, therefore, come within the range of his beneficence.
His was a true philanthropy. It embraced human nature as it is, with its manifold imperfections and ten- dencies to evil. It touched every human capacity for goodness. ^
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Jesus saw what Plato did not see, and what very many since his day have failed to see, that there is a divinity within every human being, that allies him with the divine — powers and capacities which, when properly adjusted, qualify him for heirship in the kingdom of heaven ; and he was drawn to him by a sympathy that laid head, and hand, and heart, under contribution for his bettering.
Moses was a true son of Israel, a great hero, and more than any other gave direction and destiny to the Hebrew people. Renowned for his learning, for his executive ability, and for his devotion to his enslaved countrymen, he is yet more remarkable as their great law-giver; and, as such, displayed a wisdom that easily places him above all other men of that distant age. He carried his people ever on his heart. For their sake ^'he refused to be called the son of Pharoah's daughter." He determined to share their fate and to perish with them, if perish they must. How he aroused them to a sense of their condition ; how he organized them, and eventually precipitated them, in one mighty exodus, across the sea, into the wilderness, has come down to us through tradition and history, and the heroism and fidelity he displayed have no equal among the rulers of nations.
But his great trial had not yet come. His people had seen him giving up all for them, facing every dan- ger, and enduring every hardship, and, if they can do nothing else, they will, at least, thank him and be grateful to him for giving them freedom. Alas ! They
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 253
suddenly find themselves in new relations, and begin to demur and complain. They miss their ''leeks and onions." They long for the ''flesh-pots of Egypt," for which, already, they seem willing to exchange the liberty he had procured for them at such personal cost and danger ! They utterly apostatize — become openly disloyal and charge him with folly for bringing them on their way to Canaan. They give themselves over to dissipation and idolatry, until the ire of heaven is kin- dled and is ready to consume them. Did Moses give the ingrate hosts of Israel over to destruction? No. Hear him: "Ye have sinned a great sin, and now I will go up unto the Lord, peradventure I shall make an atonement for your sin." Very kind of you, good Moses. And Moses returned unto the Lord and said : "O, this people have sinned a great sin, and have made them gods of gold, yet nov/, if thou wilt, forgive their sin, and if thou wilt not, blot me, I pray thee, out of thy book, which thou hast written !"
No greater love can one have for another than that he should be willing to die for him, and this love Moses had for his long-cherished but ungrateful people. And that, too, was an early dark age, when such instances of moral heroism were unknown. Generous, noble Moses! Thou hast honored humanity. The world will not forget thee. Thirty centuries have not dimmed the glory that adorns thy brow.
It is to be noticed, however, that the affection of Moses for his people is something less than the broad philanthropy of Jesus. If, on occasions, he displayed
254 THE NEW RELIGION.
a chivalrous sense of right and justice, and a meas- ureless love, yet his affection was Jewish in its color, not to say limited to his own people. The extreme measures to which he felt himself compelled to resort, in executing his great trust, the indiscriminate slaughter of women and children, and the utter annihilation of opposing tribes and nations are not, at this distance of time, to be harshly condemned. He was leading a peculiar and remarkable people, upon whom, as history has since proved, the well-being of subsequent gen- erations very largely depended, out of bondage to liberty. He was planting a harvest to be reaped and garnered through the coming centuries. Account for it as we may, the human race has hitherto made pro- gress only through blood and carnage. What the dire necessities of human progress are, who can yet tell? Somehow he knew, or at least believed, it was God's will and purpose that he should do as he did, bloody and merciless as his course seemed to be. If, however, we grant that his horrible massacres of Ammonite and Perizite were justifiable, it will yet appear that the human affection of Moses exhausted itself chiefly upon his own people. His language and bearing were con- stantly '^If ye shall diligently keep all these com- mandments, to do them, to love the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, and to cleave unto him, then will the Lord drive out all these nations from before you, and ye shall possess greater nations and mightier than yourselves." (Exod. ii: 22, 23.)
Jesus, too, was a son of Israel, and on occasion^
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signified a peculiar attachment for his own people. His lament over Jerusalem is a pathetic expression of such attachment. It was but natural that he should be drawn to a people through whom ^'AU the nations of the earth were to be blessed." He offered them first, ^'glad tidings of great joy," influenced, perhaps, by his peculiar love for them, but chiefly, no doubt, because they had the scriptures, and the promise of the Messiah, and he, therefore, might hope to find with them, an open door of opportunity and easy entrance on his mission. But his philanthropy was not confined to the Jewish nation. In the face of the shame and humiliation which other Jews would have felt, he went forth to Samaritan and Gentile, even the poorest and most debased, with his message of love and kindly ministries. No caste or race prejudice could restrain his world-embracing sympathy. No suffering son of man or daughter of affliction, no sin- scarred abandoned mortal whom he did not carry on his heart with all the fidelity and affection which Moses had cherished for the one people of his love.
The Son of Man has been compared with the fabu- lous Sakya Mouni.
The one was born a peasant, the other a prince.
The Hindu abandoned his home and fortune to become a devout recluse in the wilderness, and afterward the founder of Buddhism. He lived, according to tradi- tion, about six hundred years before the Christian era.
Disgusted with the whole system of caste, which
256 THE NEW RELIGION.
played such a conspicuous part among the Brahmins, he threw the whole weight of his great influence against it. He saw in every human being that which made him kin to himself ; and more, he saw in every living, creeping thing, a transmigrating spirit, once a man, now a soul in process of purification. '
He was thoroughly unselfish, and in this respect resembled the founder of the Christian system. He was born a Brahmin, as Jesus was born a Jew, and both became great reformers, one of Brahminism, the other of Judaism, of ethics and religion the world over.
As philanthropists they had less in common than we have been taught to believe.
The kinship of Buddha to animated nature was the kinship of law and relation, and not that of personal sentiment and capacity. He could find nothing author- izing or justifying the caste system of the Brahmins. The spirit of every living thing, and of course man included, was an emanation in kind from the divine spirit, and hence the universal kinship of animated nature. Any pretension to natural superiority or pre- rogative was pure assumption, and hence the whole caste system is rotten at the core.
But the brotherhood of the Buddhist is kinship, without reciprocity, without philanthrop}^
Rest, absolute, eternal rest is the condition of final blessedness — Nirwana.
Philanthropy itself is a passion, and incompatible with repose. It senci^ men out to help others — to
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 257
heal the sick, to open Wind eyes, to unstop deaf ears, to help the fatherless and the widow, to visit the sick and them that are in prison. It is attended with some- thing of care and anxiety. In its essence it is action and not rest. It is incompatible with the Buddhist thrjory of the ideal good.
Buddha was tired — tii-ed of soul and must rest, as an exhausted man must sleep. That which prevents sleep — rest — must be withdrawn, annihilated. Desire, sensibility prevents rest — is itself active and incom- patible with rest of soul. Buddha philanthropy, if philanthropy it may be called, having attained its per- fection, visits no prisons, cared for no widows and orphans, built no almshouses.
All are united in the same march of events, all are destined to the same goal — let the all-embracing stream of life flow smoothly onward in its deep channel, but avoid the submerged rocks, that break the surface into splashing white caps, or hurl the flood into eddying whirlpools beneath. Desire is the very devil of infe- licity. Alas, this eternal unrest and toil of the spirit ! When shall we be done with it and the soul be per- mitted to rest ? This was Sakya Mouni.
How different from all this was Jesus, needs hardly to be said.
He enters upon life with the divine passion aflame in his heart. He did not seek to destroy emo- tion, passion, desire, but to temper and direct them. A soul without these sensibilities would be as destitute pind incapable of happiness as a ray of light. In his
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own experience, conscience was supreme, and love reigned — love toward God and love toward men. And to this complexion he sought to bring all men, with what fidelity and devotion let Gethsemane and the cross witness.
As Sakya Mouni has been delivered to us, he is bewilderingly great — great in self-abnegation, great as a reformer, great as a speculative and religious m3^stic — but with such a monstrous misconception of human hfe and duty as to vitiate his influence, and render it doubtful whether, after all, he were more a blessing than a curse to the world.
Jesus assumed that life is worth living, and worth saving, and he gave himself to the task of readjusting its forces, and making it a harmony in the universe of God. His whole being throbbed with affection for poor humanity. He consecrated himself to the service of mankind, and, giving all, obedient to the behests of his und3ang love for the race, he went down through trial and suffering, to death. And now, after nineteen centuries, he is hailed as the Savior of men by the most enlightened nations of the earth.
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Christ Mission Outlined.
It is time now to inquire specifically what was the mission of the Lord Jesus Christ to this world. He had a specific mission and he must have known well what it was. The angel said, ^^thou shalt call his name Jesus, savior, for he shall save his people from their sins. " Matt, i: 21.
The Evangelist tells us that God sent him — ^^that whosoever believeth on him should * have everlasting life. " Jno. 3: 16.
Jesus himself says:
*^My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work," whatever that may have been. See Jno. 4: 34.
^'He that heareth my word and believeth on him that sent me hath everlasting life." Jno. 5: 24. Not shall have, but hath. ^T can of mine own self do nothing; as I hear I judge, and my judgment is just, because I seek not mine own will, but the will of the Father which hath sent me." Jno. 5: 30. He is under commission.
The work which the Father hath given me to finish, the same work I do — under commission — and they bear witness of me. Jno. 5: 36.
26o THE NEW RELIGION.
^^No man cometh to me except the Father draw him; and I will raise him up at the last day." Jno. 6: 44. Will raise him up.
^^My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me." Jno. 7: 16. Under commission.
''I must work the works of him that sent me while it is day. The night comath when no man can work." Jno. 9: 4.
^^The Father which sent me, he gave me a com- mandment, what I should say, and what I should speak." Jno. 12: 49.
^^The word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's which sent me." Plainly under commission. Jno. 14: 24.
From these declarations of Jesus, and others of similar import, we must learn the purposes of the Father in sending his beloved Son to this world. Jesus tells us in so many words why he came.
^^I came "^ to call * sinners to repentance. " Mark. 2: 17; Luke 5: 32.
''I came not to judge the w^orld, but to save the world." Jno. 12: 47.
^^I came not to be ministered unto, but to minister and to give my life a ransom for many." Mark 10: 45.
^'Let us go into the next towns, that I ma}^ preach there also, for therefore I am come forth." Mark
i: 38.
He was explicit in stating that the Father had sent him; that he came under commission to do certain ^^works;" to represent the Father in his character
THE CHRIST MISSION. 261
and feelings toward men, and through his hfe and teaching to point the way to the Kingdom of Heaven —to be the '^way/' the '^truth'' and the ''Uie.''
The prophet had said: ''The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind; to set at liberty them that are bruised; to preach the acceptable year of the Lord." Isaiah 6i: i. Having gone into the synagogue and read this passage, he said, all eyes being fixed upon him, ''This day is this scripture ful- filled in your ears." See Luke 4: 18-21.
In summing up his work at the close of his mission he said:
"It behooved Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead * that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations." Luke 24: 46, 47.
The Jews had long lived in expectation of a great deliverer. The old theocracy had passed away, their kings were dead, and they had passed under the Roman yoke; and their only hope, as set forth by the prophets Isaiah, Daniel and others, was in the com- ing Messiah.
Answering to this expectation, Jesus is announced as the child of prophecy and claims to have come to open up and establish the kingdom foretold by the prophets.
He assures them that this kingdom is at hand.
262 THE NEW RELIGION.
From this collection of facts and others akin and confirmatory, we must make up our ideal of the mis- sion of Jesus Christ to the world, so far, at least, as he himself and his four biographers have set it forth.
He was to ^^save men from sin" by whatever means. This was the general purpose and final object of his coming. Through him in some way men were to attain ^^everlasting life," and be ^ ^raised up at the last day."
He explicitly asserts that he came to ^^call sinners to repentance," ^^to preach the gospel to the poor," *'to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind ^ the acceptable year of the Lord."
If it is thought that Paul and other writers of the New Testament, more under the influence and power of the old Judaic cultus than was he, have indicated other offices and purposes of his mission, let us leave them to the criticism and judgment of the theologians, to whose ability and learning no pretensions are here made. We seek to know only what the Christ mis- sion was as he himself understood it, and what he himself taught us as to our relations to it.
By common consent to save m.en from sin must mean to bring them to turn from sin, to eschew the wrong, to covet the good; it must mean to bring them into relations of loyalty to the divine government, into harmony with the moral order of the universe. Between the alien and rebellious sinner, and the good God, and all else that is fsfood, there must be effected
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an at-one-ment, a permanent harmony. To this con- summation all professing Christians look, though they do so under the lights and shadows of various theories as to the means and mo dies operandi.
What, then, is it from which men need to be saved? What must be done to bring the creature into har- monious relations with the Creator?
1. In the ordinary experience of men there is some consciousness of guilt before God — an abiding con- viction that something is not right, something has been done which ought not to have been done — a sense of ill-desert, that causes unrest and trouble of spirit, a ghost of apprehension, if not of condemnation, that will not down. This state of mind must be replaced by one of mental rest and satisfaction.
2. Between the unregenerate and the Holy Spirit of God there is little or no congeniality. The sinful and the wicked do not enjoy the presence and society of the pure and good. They are wont to slink away and hide themselves. They are out of their element, as is a fish out of water. They are, as Paul puts it, without hope and without God in the world. They are living in their lower nature, and must be brought out of it ere they can realize the higher joys of which man is capable. This congeniality and reciprocity must be established to make the best form of human happiness possible.
3. And then, there comes into tne life of every one a conscious sense of helplessness — hours of suffering and disappointment, in which the soul imperatively
264 THE NEW RELIGION.
needs what no human hand can give — needs to rest down upon one who can and who will render support, who will keep and protect till the storm be over — • past. This sense of the divine helpfulness is to be realized.
4. So much done, there must yet be imparted such strength and temper of spirit as will enable the individual to maintain his regenerate life in the face of temptation and opposition, with all its fruitions and prerogatives, as he goes forward in the journey Oi the world-life to its close.
5. Finally, every one knows, when he pauses to reflect, that the present sensuous life is ebbing away — that time flies, and death comes, and he needs to know that there will be no break in his conscious being at death, that, -^if a man die, he shall live again '' And he wants to know this with something ot more assurance than mere reason and philosophy can give.
Such are the needs which men realize in the present state of being — needs to which response must be made if men are to be saved.
To work out, or to aid in working out, these results foi mankind wc will now assume that the Divine Son 01 Man sent 01 the Father, came to this world. Whac was his programme? What, as a matter of fact, did he do?
One 01 his biographers in concluding his history says — inauiging a strong hyperbole:
^*And there are also many other things which Jesus
THE CHRIST MISSION. 265
did, the which, if they should be written, every one of them, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the things that should be written." Jno. 21: 25.
We are not permitted to know all that Jesus did, but we know in part, and, it may be safely assumed, that whatever he did, and whatever he said, was done and said with a view of furthering the salvation of men — the one great purpose of his mission.
CHAPTER XXV.
The Christ — A Revelation.
^^O that I knew where I might find him" — the cry of the much-aiHicted old Patriarch, has been the cry of all the ages. To ^^find him/' has been the quest of all philosoph}^, the one hope of all religion — the inextinguishable yearning of the human soul.
"Nearer my God to thee, Nearer to thee."
But ^^Who b}^ searching can find out God?" What did the Egyptian give us, pushing his quest and leading the thought of the world through the long centuries of his culture? What did the mystic Brah- min, spurning the earth and aspiring to be with the gods, give us, during all the cycling centuries, which he claims to have been his ? What did Greek philoso- phy, born of genius, give us? What is the ^^Ra" of Egypt, or the ^'BRAHM^'of India, or the ^^One" of Greek philosophy, but a dim abstraction, without form and void?
^'The heavens declare the glory of God. " Yes, they do. And, as we turn our telescopes upon them, and know more of law, and light, and electricit}^, they become all more glorious. But the glory of God is
THE CHRIST MISSION. 267
not God. All nature smiles in radiant beauty under the lambent touches of the king of day ; but all nature is not God.
The raging of our own Niagara tells of power. The thunder and the storm tell us of power. The mighty orbs that were flung into the upper deep, to count their mighty revolutions on and on forever, tell us of power, more than we can conceive ; hut J^ower is not God. The light fitted to the eye and suited to leaf and flow^er tells us of wisdom ; but wisdom is not God.
Wisdom and power exhaust the category of the divine attributes, as manifested in the heavens, that declare the glory of God, and in the firmament that showeth his handiwork.
But out of the depths there come other voices — voices of sentiment, of love, of conscience, venera- tion, justice, of sympath}^, of gratitude. Are these the voices of God sounding out of the depths ? Whence come these voices?
Light and heat wake to life the sleeping germ. They expand the bud, and paint the rose, and the unseen air bears to us its fragrance. But do they tell us of feel- ings of joy, or grief? Electricity can reawaken the dead and start it into momentary phenomenal life and activity. Can it inform us of intent, or of duty, or of worship?
^^O that I knew where I might find him !"
The Son of Man — Son of God — came out of the depths, which thought had essayed in vain to explore.
268 THE NEW RELIGION.
The conception of the divine being prevalent in the Old Religions is thoroughly mystical, and to the last degree obscure and confusing. Their most enlight- ened worship was the worship of the Greeks at Mars Hill — worship of the ^ ^Unknown God."
In Judaism we have a definable and palpable Mono- theism. The God of the Jew is one God. ^^He inhabiteth eternity, and dwelleth in the uttermost parts of the earth. '^
Unlike the supreme beings of other religions, he was conceived of as holding intimate and familiar relations with his creature man, and because of his imminence and constant providence, his power to awe and restrain men was supremely great.
But his character as it stood in the mind of the ancient Jew approaches that of a despot, conscious of unlimited power, and holding universal dominion. He is the one Almighty Being, more to be feared than loved. As in the older religions, fear held sw^ay as a motive to obedience. The ^^fear of the Lord" was regarded as ^^the beginning of wisdom;' ' and the destruc- tion frequently hurled against idolatrous nations, gave ample sanction to the comprehensive injunction, ^'Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man."
The unique and wonderful Son of Man came out of the depths to show us God — the All-Father.
The Prophet seven hundred years before had said, He shall be called Immanuel — God with us. It was his to bring within the range of our sense-appreheii-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 269
sion the attributes of the Heavenly Father, in so far, at least, as they stand related to our well-being. A mere verbal revelation was not enough. There must be an acted-living revelation, if men are to be reached and rescued. To the extent of our needs ^^all power in heaven and on earth" are given to him. He imper- sonates the Father. What he did the Father did through him. What he said the Father said. In his capacity as the Father's vicegerent, he is one with the Father — Immanuel.
From him we learn not only that wisdom is of God, and that power is of God, but we learn what had never been known or imagined, if we except the Judaic cult, that sentiment — affection — feeling are of God.
From him we learn that God loves all men.
From him we learn that, as the embodiment and impersonation of all that is good, we should love God supremely.
That, as equal to ourselves in all tho capacities for goodness, and destined to the same eternity of being, we should love our fellowmen as we love ourselves.
That, in God's estimate and order of things, love fulfills all moral obligation, and that its presence as a ruling sentiment constitutes the one condition of human well-being and happiness.
From him we learn that a man weighted down with sensuous appetencies and exposed to torturing temptations, may be fortified and helped — may be l^rought to the birth of a new life — may emerge into a
270 THE NEW RELIGION.
more spiritual and higher state of being, even in the present life, and enter into the kingdom of heaven.
From him we learn that true penitence avails to break the power of sin, to purge the soul from a con- demning sense of conscious unworthiness as a sinner before God ; that he who comes to see the folly of sin may fly from it, and not remain forever cursed on account of vows broken and sins already committed — that penitent prodigals may return to the Father's house.
From him we learn that the innocence and goodness which characterize the child and constitute its heaven, is indispensable to the adult as a qualification for the same heaven; that the penitent, humble poor and downtrodden shall sometime be vindicated, and that they that mourn shall be blessed.
From him we learn that God is not the God of the dead, but of the living — that there are no dead. From him we learn all these things, and more — things hitherto unknown, or but half known at best.
Thou blessed Christ, we thank thee for these revela- tions. They lift the clouds and purify the air we breathe. They remove great burdens from our shoulders.
We had thought we must placate the gods, build shrines, offer sacrifices, make weary pilgrimages. We did not know that to the Almighty belong moral attri- butes— parental feeling — and that he needs not to be placated with sacrifices and blood ; that he is, in fact, our Father in heaven^ and that he loves us as his children.
THE CHRIST MISSION.
271
We thank thee, thou blessed Christ, that thou hast revealed the Father's love. We knew it not; we were afraid of God. We knew something of his power, and in the dark hours we thought his wrath was upon us, and we looked into the grave without hope.
We knew not the way of life. We were blind and went groping in the dark. But thou hast brought to light, with the Father's love, ^^life and immortality."
We should \vdive known that he who stands at the portals of life, sustaining our breathing and our heart- beats, was the Almighty Father, attentively caring for us, but we did not ; it had not occurred to us, and we lifted up no gratitude for his goodness.
He that hath seen me hath seen the Father. The spirit that I manifest ; the interest and affection that I have had in you and exhibited toward you are his interest, his affection. Can it be possible ? Is this an exhibition of the Heavenly Father's solicitude and" care for poor humanity? Yes. He that hath seen me hath seen the Father. We have seen the blessed Christ going in and out among men, helping the needy, healing the sick, comforting the mourner, giving hope and courage to the down-trodden and despairing. We saw thee on the ^^mount" and heard thy gracious words. We saw thee with the religiously per- plexed and disconsolate woman at the well — with the penitent adulteress — at the bier of the widow of Nain — with the sisters of Bethany, weeping at the grave of their brother. Yes, thou Lamb of God, we saw thee in Gethsemane and on the cross, and heard thy dying
272 THE NEW RELIGION.
prayer, ^'Father, forgive them," and now thou dost assure us that he that hath seen me hath seen the Father !
We have been told that Jesus made no contributions to our knowledge.
The allusion in such a statement must be to a tech- nical knowledge of physical science.
It is not claimed that Jesus was a ^ ^scientist." But no philosopher or scholar of any respectability or regard for truth will say that he made no valuable contributions to the * ^science" of ethics and religion.
He brought to light — and let him deny who will — new conceptions of the divine being, new estimates of the value of love as a factor of well-being, new ideals of worship and a more correct view of the relations that men sustain to each other and to God, the possi- bility of a rapid transformation of moral character, a better ideal of the relation of male and female, and the sanctity of marriage, and to mention no more, a more worthy conception of the true dignity of man and a more rationally certified hope of life and well-being in the hereafter.
It need not here be said that these revelations opened up to men a '^New Heaven" and a ''New Earth."
It is not, after all, to be wondered at that the Son of Man so profoundly impressed mankind. Such astounding revelations could hardly do less. It is only wonderful that men should be so slow to awake to a proper recognition of what the good ''Father in
THE CHRIST MISSION. 273
Heaven," and the '^Only Son" have done for the world.
It is sometliing humiliating to know that as early as the fourth century, men holding the written life of Jesus in hand, could proceed to build up the most gigantic despotism the world ever saw.
It is humiliating to know that the best scholars and the best men of the world holding this book in hand, could submit for a i,ooo years to this remorseless world-embracing despotism, without a protest that would shake the earth and wake the dead.
It is not creditable to the sixteenth century intelligence that Christians having wrested this book, all radiant with the revelations of God, from the hands of the Pope, should be satisfied with a reform so partial and imperfect.
It is not creditable to the eighteenth century intelli- gence, that the churches, with this book upon their altars, should retain anything of the old Judaic and Pagan priesthood with its effete functions — that they should retain anything of the essentially heathen belief, ^hat the great God can be conciliated by the offering of slain victims, and ^^shed blood," with only a diver- sion as to the dramatis per sonce of the offering.
It compromises the religious intelligence of this age that even Protestants can shrink themselves into a comprehensive externalism, and go statedly through the ceremonial and ritualistic services of the temple, and imagine that, in so doing, they are par excellence serving God ; while in the Roman and Greek churches,
274 '*'"''' N^^ RELIGION.
we have heathenism in full chorus! If the divine Son of Man were again to speak to us in audible terms, would he not say ^^How long shall I bear with you? How long shall I suffer you?"
In the name of the Only Begotten, let Christians awake out of the sleep of a dead formalism, and return to the ^ 'mount of vision," where Jesus left his disciples at Pentecost.
CHAPTER XXVI.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
According to views just presented, the life of the ^^Son of Man" was an acted and perpetual revelation. His teaching, therefore, on any subject and on all sub- jects, indeed, must be accepted as true and authori- tative, if properly understood.
But here comes in some difficulty, especially to us Westerners, whose habits of thought and modes of expression are so different from those of the Orientals.
We have dropped from the gorgeous realm of tropes and metaphors to the flat bottom of a prosy, matter- of-fact literalism, and we find it difficult to render the poetry of the Orient into the prose of the Occident.
Who eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life! He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me and I him! And yet, with attention to differences in modes of thinking, we shall be able to make the translation more or less correct.
Another precaution seems necessary. God is revealed as a spirit. That which exists on the plane of the material is not God. The revelations of the Son of God deal with the spiritual.
God the Father, man the creature. The kinship
276 THE NEW RELIGION.
between them is a kinship of spirit with spirit, of thought with thought, of feehng with feehng.
Largely overlooking the merely physical and per- ishable, the Son of Man proceeds upon a plane of exalted spirituality. He deals with the ^^^ternal verities." If he is interested in a cup of cold water, it is because that cup is the blossoming out and fruit- age of a temper and disposition which constitute heaven in the soul.
If reason and conscience and love do not predomi- nate and exclude idolatrous devotion to the distract- ing temporary concerns of the lower life, we shall fail to comprehend this '^Teacher come from God."
^^The natural man receiveth not the things of the spirit of God — they are foolishness unto him. He cannot know them, for they are spiritualty discerned."
And here precisely lies the difficulty with the skep- tical critics of the Founder of Christianit}/. Living habitually in the arit^ regions of speculative thought, and concerned chiefly with the present ^ ^world-life," they have failed to apprehend the true significance of his teaching at many points.
Man is at his best when his whole nature, intellec- tual, moral and spiritual, is in full play, when con- science asserts the divine presence and prerogative, when the affections are duly subordinated to the law of right, and take hold on things spiritual, and the soul, throbbing with glad emotion, is lifted out of the gross and sensuous and borne heavenward. Then it is
THE CHRIST MISSION. 277
that the words and thoughts of Jesus become ''words that breathe," and ''thoughts that burn."
He addressed himself chiefly to the affectional nature, as we all know, and he must be approached on the line and in the spirit of his teaching if one would get into rapport with him, and become able to properly understand and appreciate his teaching.
In his review of the best thought of his age Jesus pointed out certain errors and indicated certain prin- ciples of morality which had never before been enunciated.
It is altogether probable that much of his teaching has not been transmitted to us in form or in fact; but the more striking and impressive, and probably the more important passages have been recorded.
I. In review of the Mosaic teaching he says, Ye have heard that it has been said "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" — evil for evil. This was the teach- ing, this the practice, this the impulse of unregener- ate humanity the world over. But he abruptly breaks this order. Do not do evil for evil. What then, do nothing? Not that. "But I say unto you * Bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them who despitefuUy use you and persecute you!"
But is such a course a reasonable one, and practicable in actual life? Will it do to assume that this doing good for evil will finally be appreciated, and prove to be the best thing that could have been done? Well, we know that seeing it done usually touches the hard-
278 THE NEW RELIGION.
est hearts. It stays the hand ready to strike. It checks revenge. It hardly fails to conquer peace. As a rule, it does all these, whereas, returning evil for evil stirs worse strife, summons resistance, embit- ters feeling, excites revenge and prolongs hatred and war.
Is it not better to take the chances — appeal to the better nature, and return good for evil, and thus do the best and strongest thing in your power to reform and save the evil doer? So taught Jesus, whose mis- sion it was to save his people from their sins.
He himself did good for evil. He did it when the world was against him, and there was little hope of final appreciation — when his own chosen ^^tw^elve" had left him. He did it, when to seeming, his cause went down out of sight, and he hung dying on the cross.
But it is a new deal in morality. Too high for some, possibly for most men. Even that profound scholar and advanced thinker, John Stuart Mill, thought such a morality impracticable in actual life. Let them wait. Men are accepting it more and more. The evidence from history is not all in. More and more the folly of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth is becoming apparent, more and more is it becoming evident that on this line of battle ^^one shall chase a thousand and two put ten thousand to flight."
2. Infarther review of the Mosaic teaching, he brings out new ideals as to the position and the rights of woman.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 279
*^In the beginning God made male and female. " ' ^And for this cause shall a man leave father and mother, and cleave to his wife; and they twain shall be one flesh."
What then becomes of the boasted superiority of man? Whence his right to subordinate and enslave woman, as she has been in all lands and through the ages? Contrasted with all previous teaching this reads like a revelation from heaven. There is scarcely a trace of it to be found in history. The teaching in Genesis accounting for the origin of male and female was accepted, but the logical inferences which the Author of Christianity makes from it had never been made. Very soon after the creation, woman drops out of sight, only to appear again as a servile subordinate, toward whom any indignity may be offered with impunity. Polygamy and concubinage run riot under the eyes and in the immediate presence of Moses and the prophets. It is a distressing com- ment upon poor human nature, that, after i,goo years, so few have yet risen to the height of a view, so just, so human — and they twain shall be one flesh. The rights of women, as certified by the Author of Christianity, are coming to be recognized more and more, but even among professing Christians the admission that they twain shall be ''one flesh'' is grudgingly made, if made at all.
Blessed Master, Ihou didst come to redeem and save the world, and thou art mightily lifting at least
28o THE NEW RELIGION.
one-half of it — aye, all of it — for as woman is lifted man is also lifted and saved. ^
Treasure in Heaven,
3. As the conscience is awakened and becomes sensi- tive to the touches of sin, as the affections become pure, the thoughts take new range, one sees things in new lights, and the whole significance of life is changed.
The Author of Christianity always insisted upon a purer morality — a higher life. There is a realm whence disastrous changes and uncertainty are ban- ished, and to this realm he would have men aspire.
^^Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. * * For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." Matt. 6: 19-21.
This teaching, be it old or new, is squarely in the face of the world's activities. In an iron age — even in a silver and gold age — it can have little recognition among men. The average adventurer upon the sea of life will thrust it aside as the dictum of a dreaming
I. The teaching of the Founder of the New Religion, that only one single ground of divorce is lawful, alike distinguishes his followers from both Jews and heathens of his day. He revolu- tionized society by giving to the family a sure foundation, and by the elevation of woman to be the true companion of man. Chris- tian Archaeology, by Bennett, p. 461.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 281
enthusiast, and utterly incompatible with business life in this business world.
We forget that we are children of the Father in heaven, and capable of holding high converse with him, that we are destined, very soon, to be withdrawn from the present environment. The lower life burns out while incubating the higher. The lower life, within its sphere, has its uses. But its uses are tem- porary, and it is liable to error. It is wont to busy itself constantly with momentary pleasures and Cheap entertainments. These entertainments and pleasures sometimes prove to be so fascinating as to draw upon the life forces above, and pervert them. They are, it must be admitted, very beguiling, and tend to draw us. down ward — to keep us on the plane of the lower life.
The mad chase for gold is on throughout the wide world. Behold the struggle it engenders, always and everywhere! What does it prove?' It proves that most men are the victims of avarice. It proves that the lower life is master — that men are standing on the lower and not the higher plane of their being — that the glare of gold has blinded them to the spiritual possibilities of their nature — that they have not ^'tasted of the good word of God and the powers of the world to come." They, indeed, know something of a crude and cheap friendship, but it usually has the taint of money. They know little or nothing of the true feast of reason and flow of soul sometimes real- ized by high-born congcjnial spirits. Such fellowship
202 THE NEW RELIGION.
is too high, for the professional money-getter. He cannot attain unto it. He is living in his lower nature, which admits of certain fervid ill-fragrant excitements, but yields no charismic exaltation. He is breathing an atmosphere that is heavy and choking, loaded with the rust and poison of selfishness, and the love of money. His feet are amid the swamps and quag- mires of the earth, earthy. He is to be pitied, since he knows not, or seems not to know, that there is anything better than money. There are many things better than money. When you are healthy and buoyant your dollar is worth its face, every cent of it. When you linger on a cheerless bed of protracted sick- ness and sufiering, from which all the money of the banks cannot lift you, your dollar is at discount. As your malady increases its discount increases. When you are looking into the grave, what is the value of your dollar, or a million of them?
Money is at best but a cheap advantage. It can only buy what is of little worth, and cheap in the market. It cannot buy a friendship worth having. It cannot purchase 3^ou a restful and happy state of mind or a good character — a breath or touch of heaven.
Better not lay it up. It will not keep long in any case. Rust will corrode it. Thieves may steal it.
When love warms your heart and sweetens your temper, your thoughts are likely to take a range above money and money hunting. When gratitude for a life crowned with blessings wells up from the depths of
THE CHRISr MISSION. 283
your being, you are surmounting your lower nature. You are stepping well upon the borders of the upper kingdom, and earthly treasures are of little worth.
Why do we so habitually shut our eyes to things eternal, and open them so eagerly and fix them so intently upon things perishable and of little worth? Somehow this tendency is upon us — upon some more and stronger than upon others, but upon us all. However, we have moments of aspiration and clearer light — moods let us call them — outcrops of the future life — foregleams of the coming day — flashes of disem- bodied spirit existence. There are few, perhaps none, w^ho have not had these moods — seasons of temporary exaltation — prophesies cf the hereafter. They have come in response to fervid prayer to God for a purer and better life. They have come, as they did in the olden time to Plato, in hours of solitary contempla- tion. They have come on occasions of sweet and holy converse of friend with friend — blessed anti- pasts of the Kingdom of Heaven. And in such moods how radiant and joyous is all nature; theheavens are more benignant, the landscape more charming, the foliage more gorgeous, the flowers sweeter. Even the bark of the distant dog, on his faithful watch, is a note of praise that reaches heaven. The lowing herd and the flitting songsters of the forest, and every sound that breaks upon the ambient air peal their grateful melodies into the ear of the Most High. How then does the ^*earth-earthy" sink into worth- ^.ssness? What now of the money-grubbers and
284 THE NEW RELIGION.
notoriety mongers who are so busily digging to bury themselves deeper and deeper in the accumulations of earthy treasure? What ample proof the millionaire gives of short-sighted folly! How evident the damag- ing mistakes made by those who, like the great Alex- ander, are ambitious of earthly renown. Renown, the most flattering, is unsatisfying. It did not satisfy Alexander — did net bless him Living, he gave the largest proof of his mad foll}^, and dying he went off an impoverished bankrupt, a wreck into a shoreless sea. He died as the fool dies. The golden sands of Pactolus could not protect the proverbial Croesus against the determination of Cyrus to offer him in sacrifice to the Persian's God. And gold would not bless you, though, like Midas, you could turn every- thing you touch into gold. It would curse you. It cursed Midas until he besought the gods to smite him again with utter poverty, if need be, to save him from the curse of gold.
What will it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?
CHAPTER XXVII.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
In pursuance of his mission ^^Jesus began to preach, saying, repent ye for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.'
That repentance was somehow needful to reforma- tion was urgently taught in the Hebrew scriptures. ^'If my people shall humble themselves and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I for- give their sins, and heal their land (2 Kings 7: 14). The Psalmist, whose enlarged views and exalted spir- ituality, exhibit the best phases of the Judaic cultus, prays :
* ^ * * * O Lord Pardon my iniquity, for it is great.
* * -jt ^ H? ^
Turn thou unto me, and have mercy upon me, For I am desolate, and afflicted.
* -jf * * * ^
Have mercy upon me, O God, According to thy loving kindness.
* -x- :i; * * * And cleanse me from my sin.
* -X- :ic -X- * *
The Lord is nigh unto them of a broken heart, And saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.
286 THE NEW RELIGION.
A broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise —
From this cultus Jesus emerged as the '^Messiah/' commissioned to ^^save his people from their sins."
John was in the wilderness of Judea calling upon men to repent — preparing the way of the Lord. The impassioned cry of John became the solemn injunction of Jesus — ''•Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Throughout his teaching great stress is laid upon the need of repentance.
When he sent out the 12 and the 70, it was to call upon men to repent, as he himself had done, in their hearing (Mark 6-12); and later, Peter reproducing his teaching said, ^ ^Repent ye, therefore, and be con- verted, that your sins may be blotted out." Acts 3: 19.
In summing up results just before his departure, alluding to what had been written concerning him in the Law of Moses and in the Prophets, and in the Psalms, Jesus said, ^^Thus it is written, and thus it behooved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead, that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in my name, to all nations."
It must no: be forgotten that whatever discord may exist between the Almighty Father and any human being, it is chargeable to the man himself, because of wrongs done— of sins committed. If one is conscious of personal guilt, he has brought it upon himself. Like the Prodigal he has sinned, and like the Prodigal he must repent. The good Heavenly Father is ever ready to forgive and welcome the wanderer home.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 287
What is it to sin, and what to repent ? We ought to be very clear on subjects of so much moment.
To sin^ then, is to violate law, to go against the moral sense, to do what you know, or at least what you believe, to be wrong. It is to take up arms against conscience, to take sides with the bad against the good.
Doing this, you cease to be loyal to the divine gov- ernment, you become a discord in the moral order, you become consciously unworthy and feel guilty. This is human experience, always and everywhere, at the inception of a sinful and vicious life.
But what is it to repent, that so much emphasis is put upon it by the Great Teacher ? What can it be, but to lay down the arms you have taken up against conscience, to renounce sin, to eschcAV evil ? What is it, but to take the back track on your erring life, with the solemn purpose of reforming and making all possible amends, and thus resuming your place in the divine favor, or rather, perhaps, to experience such a sense of personal guilt and consciousness of ill-desert, on account of missteps taken and wrongs done, as will cause you to gladly do these things ? The one course in the very nature of things makes the other necessary. The one covers, and corrects the other, leaving you something damaged, indeed, and less than you other- wise would have been, because of opportunities lost, z^rA capacities unimproved, but yet reconciled with God, and in sympathy and harmony with all that is good.
288 THE NEW RELIGION.
Sooner or later there comes to most men, if not to all, a thoughtful and serious hour, in which they are wont to cast the horoscope of life descendant. They ponder upon the pathway they have trod. They ques- tion the oracles as to their fortune and destiny. They stand in the conscious presence of the inevitable. Perhaps they begin to realize that their feet are already ^^taking hold on death," and are ready to cry out with the Publican, ^^God be merciful." Some great sorrow has come, recalling their thoughts to the uncertainty and insufficiency of all earthly good ; or, the exhibi- tion of some great but undeserved love, has sent a thrill of keen conviction to the heart ; or, it may be, that some faithful minister of the gospel, like the consecrated prophet on the banks of the Jordan, has effectually reached them with his warning cry ; or the ^^still small voice" in the evening twilight, more pow- erful than ^^the rushing might}^ wind," has been heard in the solemn depths of the soul, calling them back to duty and to God. At any rate the moral and religious sense is at high-tide. Man is face to face with his destiny. The moment is auspicious for high resolve, and blessed is he who, in such an hour, takes resolu- tion to abandon sin and consecrate himself to good- ness and to God.
Now, it is something of this plastic state of mind that Jesus seeks to bring in as the first condition need- ful to the uplifting and saving process. There must be some experience of sorrow for sin, some review of the past, uncovering its errors, an honest hour with
THE CHRIST MISSION. 28g
God and the truth, resulting, as it must, in a sense of guilt and unworthiness before God, if the future pos- sibilities of the higher life are to be realized. This, at least, is the postulate of the New Religion.
At this point stoicism takes issue squarely with Christianity.
It was the conceit of the stoics that one could reform himself simply by dint' of resolution, and stiffening up courage. With them sorrow for sin was a childish weakness. Seneca scouted penitence as unbecoming a manly character. ^^The calm of a mind, blessed with the consciousness of its own virtue, is the supreme expression of felicity." (Leckey, Hist. Mor.,voL i, p. 207.)
But alas ! Seneca, what about the disquietude and unrest of a mind conscious of its own vice ? And where, good Seneca, will you go to find one who has not had something of this experience with vice ? Is the pleasure of virtue more real to consciousness than the pain of vice?
Jesus and Seneca were contemporaries, and lived under the same government- To Seneca, his Gali- lean contemporary would have said, ^^They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repent- ance."
Suppose, Seneca, you know yourself to have done wrong, as surely you must have known you were doing, when truckling to the wicked whims of the most vicious despot th«at ever disgraced a throne. Suppose
290 THE NEW RELIGION.
you already feel a damning sense of guilt and sin, such as very many men come to feel, what then? You can not by a mere edict of the will banish it ; what is your alternative ? You may disregard the voice of con- science, you may possibly hush its warnings, but in so far as you succeed in doing this, 3^ou break down your moral nature, and disqualify yourself for the enjoyment of those divine pleasures which spring from congenial fellowship with the pure, the good and the true.
If you ignore and discard sorrow for sin, what will fortify any purpose to do right in the future ? How can you reassume your relations of loyalty to the right if no sorrow^ for wrong-doing has begotten within you a stronger motive to obedience ?
Jesus says. Repent, give place to sorrow, examine your life in the light of your best knowledge, and with prayerful interest, seek to know the worst as God knows it. To do this is no evidence of weakness or want of manhood.
Your sorrow is but the needed ministry of suffering — the condition and prophecy of your emancipation from sin.
Nor is the result uncertain. That one comes up out of the ordeal of a true penitence, nobler and happier, is not an accident.
When Jesus began to preach saying, ^'Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand," he announced the law of the spirit's emergence into higher forms of
THE CHRIST MISSION. 29I
life. Peter repeats it in form, ' 'Repent ye therefore and be converted."
''How can it be?" Never mind, Nicodemus, it is so. "The wind bloweth where it hsteth, and you hear the sound thereof." "Marvel not." "Kf must be born again. "
Most of us have seen men come out of this ordeal of penitence. What are the facts ? They come with smiles of joy playing over every feature, with expres- sions of thankfulness and gratitude, with a fathomless love that reaches out toward friends and foes, and takes in the world.
And this process of redemption we have seen repeated so often, as to leave no doubt as to the law of regeneration. They come out of this ordeal "new creatures,' ' childlike, transparent, with new aspirations, new hopes and purposes. They experience new affini- ties and seek new associations.
And Jesus evidently regarded all such penitents as already saved and worthy of confidence. If one sin against you forgive him. The penitent publican was "justified." The penitent adulteress was forgiven. The penitent thief on the cross was promised paradise.
He did not exalt "faith," as did Luther ; nor the "blood," as does Moody, and orthodoxy in general. It seemed to be enough that the sinner should be penitent as the prodigal was penitent. It was not necessary that he should go round and round through the wilderness of ecclesiastical dogma and sacraments,
:^92 THE NEW RELIGION.
nor to halt at the dead sea of forms and ceremony — *^the kingdom is at hand."
In a case given expressly to illustrate the way out of sin and return to virtue, sketched by the Master's own hand, the prodigal son is made to reviev/ his past life, the favors slighted, the opportunities lost ; and the dire necessities of a life of sin, are made to bring the erring wanderer to himself, and in the spirit of true penitence he determines to go back to his father and say to him, '^Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee ; I am no more worthy to be called thy son. Make me as one of thy hired servants. And the father seeing him runs to meet him and wel- come him home." No priestly ^^absolution" nor '^39 Articles." ^^No slain lamb or bleeding victim."
Among the angels in heaven and the angels on earth there is ^^joy over one sinner that repenteth."
As a matter of fact this Christian view of the virtue of repentance as adequate to exculpate the offender from further blame, is accepted and acted on by men generally. If one do you a wrong, to accomplish some selfish purpose, you have reason for feeling that he should be punished for it some way. But let him repent and prove to you true sorrow, and 3^ou not onl}^ readily forgive him, but your confidence in his essen- tial moral integrity is restored. This is the experience of all honorable, fair-minded men. Throughout Juda- ism and Christianity, at least, it is recognized as the sufficient ground of forgiveness and restoration to the divine favor.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 293
It is not claimed that penitence, however deep and sincere, operates to lessen the divine abhorrence of sin, or that one having sinned can, through repent- ance, recover all that he lost through sinning ; but only that he will be lifted out of the conscious con- demnation and wretchedness which weighs upon him during his alienation from God. He returns to his loyalty to the right, not to be what he might have been, but yet, to be at peace with conscience, and in harmony with all that is good. The end of law is universal harmony. This end has been attained through penitence and reformation of life, and what more do men, or angels, or God require ?
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
Reformation of life by means of moral precept and education is always tediously slow and often far from satisfactory.
Jesus had less to say in favor of such reformatory means than most masters.
About the only hope held out by him to the habitual sinner is the possibility of his regeneration. He did not indoctrinate him in ethics, did not teach him science, but called upon him to repent.
If a rapid, not to say an instantaneous transforma- tion of the moral character, be impossible, then at least one of the chief postulates of the New Religion is unfounded, and Christianity sinks well nigh to the level of the Older Religions.
Born only of the flesh you may tramp the world- life through to its end on a very low plane of being. And you need more than education and good advice. To realize your destiny as a child of the Heavenly Father, you must escape from the chrysalis of the merely sensuous life and take your place among the immortals. Education is not enough.
If those vicious tastes and dispositions of yours, which take pleasure in domestic and social disorder^
THE CHRIST MISSION. 295
in conscienceless greed and unjust gain, in mere sen- suous and degrading indulgence of tastes, and disposi- tions which make history so largely a record of crime — if the flaming appetites and passions which, upon the least temptation, hurl you into every species of excessive indulgence, cannot be replaced by some- thing better, then plainly there can be no heaven for 3/0U in earth or sky. Mere education and precept, such as the Old Masters relied on, are not enough. The plummet must drop to the bottom. Marvel not that I said unto you, ye must be born again.
As to the character and extent of the needed trans- formation of life, there is diversity of experience and diversity of opinions — opinions which vary somewhat with the theories of human depravity.
The author of ^ ^Natural Law in the Spiritual World" frankly states the necessities involved in conversion under the ^^Total Depravity" theory of the orthodox churches.
*^The attitude of the natural man, with reference to the spiritual, is a subject on which the New Testa- ment is equally pronounced. Not only in relation to the spiritual man, but to the whole spiritual world the natural man is regarded as dead. He is as a crys- tal to an organism. The natural world is to the spiritual as the inorganic to the organic. *To be car- nally minded is death.'' ^Thou hast a name to live but art dead.' ^She that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth.' ^To you hath he given life^ which were dead in trespasses and in sins.' " Again he says:
296 THE NEW kELlGION.
'^It is an old-fashioned theology which divides the world in this way — which speaks of men as living and dead, lost and saved — a stern theology, all but fallen into disuse. This difference between the liv- ing and the dead, in souls, is so unproved by casual observation, so impalpable in itself, so startling as a doctrine, that schools of culture have ridiculed or denied the grim distinction. Nevertheless, the grim distinction must be retained."
If this be, indeed, a true account of the natural, unconverted man, then conversion must sweep the whole field, and start him, another being, into another realm of being.
This author is very explicit and has the courage a* his faith. Let us hear him:
''What now, let us ask, specifically distinguishes a Christian man from a non-Christian man? Is it that he has certain mental characteristics not possessed by the other? Is it that certain faculties have been trained in him, that morality assumes special and higher manifestations and character a nobler form? Is the Christian merely an ordinary man, who hap- pens, from birth, to have been surrounded with a peculiar set of ideas? Is his religion merely that peculiar quality of the moral life defined by Mr. Mathew Arnold as morality, touched by emotion? And does the possession of a high ideal, benevolcnc sympathies, a reverent spirit, and a favorable envi- ronment account for what men call his spiritual life?"
To all of which he enters a negative as follows:
THE CHRIST MISSION. ^97
*'The distinction between them is the same as that between the organic and the inorganic, the Hving and the dead. What is the difference between a crystal and an organism, a stone and a plant? They have much in common. Both are made of the same atoms. Both display the same properties of matter. Both are subject to the physical laws. Both may be very beautiful. But besides possessing all that the crystal has, the plant possesses something more — a mysteri- ous something called life. This life is not something which existed in the crystal, only in a less developed form. There is nothing at all like it in the crystal. There is nothing like the first beginning of it in the crystal, not a trace or symptom of it. This plant is tenanted by something new, an original and unique possession, added over and above all the properties common to both. When from vegetable life we rise to animal life, here again we find something original and unique — unique at least as compared with the mineral. From animal life we ascend again to spirit- ual life. And here also is something new, something still more unique. He who lives the spiritual life has a distinct kind of life, added to all the other phases of life, which he manifests — a kind of life infinitely more distinct than is the active life of a plant from the inertia of a stone. The spiritual man is more dis- tinct in point of fact, than is the plant from the stone. This is the one possible comparison in nature, for it is the widest distinction in nature; but compared with the difference between the natural and the spirit-
298 THE NEW RELIGION.
ual, the gulx which divides the organic from the inor- ganic is a hair's breadth. "^
I have made this quotation not because I accept its teaching, nor for the purpose of controverting it, but because the author sets forth so frankly and clearly the nature and extent of the change necessitated by the Total Depravity theory.
If the so-called natural man is endowed with spirit- ual potencies — with capacities which, when properly developed and properly directed, ally him with the spiritual, and make him brother to other spirits and all spirits — and it seems most remarkable that any can doubt it — then, falling into habitual sin, and building a bad character, as the natural man somehow is wont to do, he needs conversion. He is going in the wrong direction. He is misapplying and abusing his God- given powers, and must stop it. He is not dead, but misguided, and living beneath his privileges. He yet has some sense of justice, some sympathy with the right, the good and the true. "He has some sense of love and friendship, some thought of God and destiny — all men have. All unconverted men are not purely diabolical. Conversion does not sweep the whole field of their mental and moral powers and substitute something different in kind.
A sense of justice, a sense of right and wrong, of friendship and love, of the good and true, are intuitions. To these man was born; and these ally the most natural man with spirit existence and qualify him for
I. Natural Law in the Spiritual World, pp. 75 and 80., et. seq.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 299
possible spiritual fellowship. He needs nothing dif- ferent in kind but a better temper and equilibrium of mental and moral powers to make him happy. His sense of justice is not diabolical, but possibly very crude and imperfect; it may be but germinal and badly overgrown with noxious vices, and so with all the virtues named and nameable. He needs rehabili- tating. He can never be the man he was intended to be, without it, and hence Jesus says he must be born again.
As if he had said to the ruler of the synagogue, you have taken a wrong drift, Nicodemus. You are living in your lower life. The chief objects of your life are not what they should be. Your estimate of things that are in themselves perishing and unsatisfying is out of all proportion with their value as factors of well being. You must wake up to the fact that your higher nature is to dominate the lower, that you can- not live as an animal and be happy as an angel or as a man. Like the Prodigal, you must come to yourself and change your base — admitting an expressive figure — you must be born again.
On the theory of total depravity all alike need con- version— the most innocent child as well as the most obdurate criminal.
But Jesus did not hold the same language concern- ing children that he held to Nicodemus.
He did not hold the language of representative teachers.
Watson said they are ''judicially damned." Angus-
300 THE NEW RELIGION.
tine had said substantially the same, long before him. Luther indorsed and emphasized Augustine. The Protestant Episcopal church says, by implication, they are ^^fire-brands of hell and bond-slaves of the devil." But Jesus said of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. He must have seen that their moral condi- tion was very different from that of the ruler of the synagogue. He breathes no suspicion that theyv^ere or could be involved in the guilt of ^ ^original sin.*'
And, among those recognized as fit for the Kingdom of Heaven, we trace a wide disparity of character and habits — Lazarus at the gate of Dives, the Prodigal Son, the good Samaritan, the penitent Publican, the Marys, etc.
In short, it may be said that throughout his whole teaching there is no intimation of the ^^grim dogma" of original sin. It was only necessary that candidates for the franchises of the Kingdom of Heaven should eschew sin and love goodness.
CHAPTER XXIX.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
P-'ayer is the staple element of religion. It is the experience of conscious want appeahng to the powers above for help. Whether offered up by Pagan or Christian,
"Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Uttered or unexpressed; The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast."
It sustains the moral sense. It renders conscience more tenderly sensitive, it nourishes and fortifies the better nature, and is essential to the religious life. In the direst extremities it is instinctive and the final resort of the driven spirit.
The Founder of the New Religion strongly empha- sized its importance as a privilege to be enjoyed — as a means to a blessing.
In response to a request from his disciples he fur- nishes the following as a sample, indicating generally the spirit and matter of acceptable prayer:
''Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy Will be done on earth, as it is done in heaven. Give us this da}^ our daily bread. Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those
302 THE- NEW RELIGION.
who trespass against us. Lead us not into tempta- tion, but deliver us from evil; for thine is the King- dom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."
1. It is reverent and grateful — Hallowed be thy name.
2. It is the dictate of love — Thy Kingdom — a state of blessing — come to all.
3. It springs from a sense of dependence and need — Give us this day our daily bread.
4. It springs from a sense of ill desert — Forgive us our sins.
5. It is inconsistent with ill will — As we forgive others.
6. It implies a dangerous exposure to sin — Deliver us from evil.
7. It recognizes from first to last the Christian ideal of God. as sympathetic and merciful — ^^Our Father in Heaven."
It is a marvel of brevity, propriety and comprehen- siveness. Nothing like it or approaching it to be found in any religion.
Its spirit, and one or more of these underlying prin- ciples, go to make up, we may suppose, all appro- priate prayer. It seems perfect in every particular. Suited to all the dependent and needy relations of men.
But certain precautions are entered up. ^^Use not vain repetitions." ''Don't pray to be heard of m.en." The heathens make a mistake, for they think they will be heard ''for their much speaking." And, if
THE CHRIST MISSION. 303
you pray to be heard of men, it were more a sacri- lege than an act of worship.
As if he had said, I have given you a prayer. The form is not material — '^Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight; I am no more worthy to be called thy Son — make me as one of thy hired servants" — this will do. ^^God be merciful to me a sinner" — will do. *^God, I thank thee I am not as other men, extortioners, unjust" — stop — ^^I fast twice a week, I give tithes" — stop, stop — this will not do.
Alas for human nature! There is great danger of falling into the sin of praying to be heard of men
In the presence of a critical, fault-finding public, whether in the ^ ^temple," or at the ^ ^corners of the streets," it is more difficult to collect and concentrate one's thoughts upon one's real needs — upon God and duty and destiny, than in the privacy and solitude of the closet. It is difficult to avoid attending too much to the ^^form of sound words," and trimming the thoughts to expectant ears. In public many things tend to distract and to prevent that close and candid review of self, and that deliberation which true devo- tion requires. You want to avoid ^^temptation" when you pray, ^'Lead us not into temptation."
A reverent recognition of the Divine Presence in a public meeting is always becoming and appropriate, and when the business is important, and especially if it be perplexing and difficult, it is not only proper in itself, but greatly needed, as it tends to withdraw the mind
304 THE NEW RETJGION.
from the murky regions of passion, and qualifies it for sober and successful action.
But the practice of going into public for the express purpose of prayer and worship has no sanction in the New Religion.
On the Christ theory of true worship it is difficult to justify the prevalent custom of repairing to public shrines for prayer and worship — especially difficult to justify the practice of hiring another to lead and con- duct your worship. How can another know so well as you yourself know what your soul needs in the way of God's mercy and God's blessing? Perfunctory prayers to be paid for, so much each, or by the dozen — prayers by proxy, are exceedingly liable to be wholly empty of power for good, mere words upon the air.
If we grant that the minister, so employed, is per- fectly sincere and well-meaning, his sincerity and well-meaning cannot avail for those who employ him, each one of whom is responsible for himself. No offi- ciating priest can come between the individual soul and God. If he be very ignorant and feeble, the minister may, for the time, aid him by suggesting lines of thought — may possibly stimulate his devo- tions, but, exactly in such a case, there is imminent danger of the votary depending too much upon his priest — imminent danger of his falling into the practice of listening to prayer more than praying for himself.
Every scul, however weak, is strong enough to lift up his prayer to God for his mercy and blessing. If
THE CHRIST MISSION. 305
one feels that he needs an intermediating priest, it only proves that he has wrong conceptions of worship, and it might do him good to have all such props knocked from under him.
He has forgotten, if he ever knew, that God is a spirit, and that he who worships profitably must him- self worship in spirit and in truth.
Jesus himself was not in the habit of praying in public. He went into the temple and synagogue, it is true, but it was more to teach the people than to pray with them or for them. Though claimed to be a priest (Heb. 5: 10) and initiated, as some say, into the priestly office, he never officiated as such, and never recognized the need of a priesthood as being at all needful or helpful to true worship.
^^But when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to the Father which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly." In this injunction it is possible that he only meant to emphasize the necessity of one's being sincere and honest with him- self, and to guard against all pride and pretense of personal goodness, when seeking to commune with God. However this may be, it is a noticeable fact, that he did not appoint meetings for public worship, did not instruct his disciples to do so, and his own custom of withdrawing himself into solitude to pray, leaving even his own chosen disciples and going into some ^^desert place," or up into the ^ ^mountain," when desiring to formally commune with the Father,
306 THE NEW RELIGION.
though certainly there was no danger of his being insincere or hypocritical, accords with and reaffirms his instructions on the subject.
The student of history hardly needs to be reminded that the priestly office has always and everywhere tended to abuse and usurpation. It implies and depends upon the practice of public and proxy wor- ship, which, in the very nature of things, equally tends to hypocrisy and corruption. The Founder of Christianity, as if aware of these dangerous tenden- cies, which, it would seem, are too strong for human nature, gave no sanction, either to a paid priesthood, or to public worship as such.
In heathen and Pagan lands there are very many shrines for public worship, and the scenes there wit- nessed are pitiful and humiliating enough. In the older Catholic countries not much can be claimed in the way of improvement upon Pagan customs.
Protestantism has very much improved the customs of public worship, though evidences of the known tendencies are not wanting, in certain quarters.
The Protestant church edifice is not a mere shrine. It is a place where instruction is mingled with wor- ship. The pulpit is not simply an altar, but more a rostrum, and is steadily becoming more and more a ^ ^rostrum."
To cherish a realizing sense of the Divine Presence during those educational ministries is both eminently proper in itself, and eminently productive of good, as furnishing the best possible conditions for improving
THE CHRISt MISSION. 30^
and exalting the whole man, and this accords with the teaching and practice of the Master himself.
But prayer must be 'Hn spirit and in triUh.^''
At this point Christianity attains its highest eleva- tion as a religion. But, it is at this point, precisely, that it differs most from the Old Religions. Behold the crowds of heathen worshippers on their knees, or prostrate in the dust, or on weary pilgrimages, and in their temples !
Behold their priesthood, and their sacrifices ! Their externalism ! The Supreme Being, who cares nothing for them personally, can only be worshipped through shrines and symbols — through offered victims and burnt incense ! What a mockery of High Heaven, if, indeed, religion is an affair of the heart — if worship is a concern that lies between the individual soul and God — each for himself, as taught in the New Religion.
*^The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain until now," the benighted creature, ^^waiting, in earnest expectation, the manifestation of the sons of God." No journey was too long, no sacrifice too great to be made, to bring the pilgrim worshipper, at least once in his life, to the sacred shrine, where he could bow before his God, and worship. In all lands the burden of religion was too intolerable to be borne. It was crushing out the best life of the world.
The Founder of the Christian system, from heights of spiritual vision which had never been attained, called down to the benighted masses — '^Awake, and sing, ye that dwell in the dust, for thy dew is as the
308 THE NEW RELIGION,
dew of herbs, and the earth shaU cast out the dead.'* Isa. 26: ig. ^^Ye worship ye know not what. Beheve me, the hour cometh, and now is, when the true wor- shipper shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth. ' ^ Your sacrifices avail you nothing. Your massive temples and gilded altars are voiceless and dumb and avail 3^ou nothing. Your priests are human and sinful and have need to cry to God for mercy on themselves. They can not cancel your sins, nor bear away your prayers to the ear of the Most High. They can not return God's blessing upon your souls. Ye worship ye know not what. If you want the Father's blessing, if you want to draw near to him and ^^order your cause before him," ^^Enter into your closet" — leave your altars and officiating priests, your ritual and ceremony, outside, and, having shut thy door, worship God in spirit — ^^pray to the Father who is in secret, and the Father, who seeth in secret, shall reward you openly,"
How like a revelation was all this to the shell-bound devotees of externalism ! It summons the individual into the presence of God. It removes out of the way all external intervention and awkward machinery upon which the feeble votary may place a false dependence; it opens the sky and the sunlight to those groping their ways through the dark. It brings to light ^'Life and Immortality."
For the early disciples, at least, the power of this externalism was broken. A ''Pe7itecosf^ had become possible. They went forth the heralds of a more direct, a more simple, a more spiritual and efficient
THE CHRIST MISSION ^6g
gospel of truth. Not a Christian church was built for two hundred years ; but the success and progress of the gospel were phenomenal, as all historians agree. It was the simple truth as it is in Jesus Christ the Son of God. It had not then been loaded down with doctrine and dogma. It was not under the espionage of an argus-eyed hierarchy, jealous of heresy. It had not been hedged about and built upon with the ritual and ceremony of an all-embracing ecclesiasticism, and it succeeded as it always has suc- ceeded and always does succeed when properly pre- sented. In that day Paul said, what he would yet say, ^^it is the power of God unto salvation."
But if the power of externalism had been broken, the tendency toward it had not been destroyed. Alas ! So many seem incapable of any large spiritual devel- opment ! They feed on mere sense impressions. A little thinking wearies and exhausts them. They must call upon others for help. They constantly tend back- ward from the advanced position to which the great Teacher would bring them. For the millions of the Roman and Greek churches time has gone back upon the ^^hour" which ^^cometh and now is," when the true worshipper shall ^ ^worship the Father in spirit and in truth." They are again sunken into an all-pervading formalism, sickening in the proofs of its utter shallow- ness and superstition.
Nor has Protestantism entirely escaped the engulf- ing tendency. It, too, has a surplus of doctrine and dogma, of symbol and ceremony. It, too, is living
316 THE NEW RELIGION.
too much In the letter of God's word, too little m its spirit and power, as a dead formalism, apparent throughout the Protestant world, sufficiently proves.
CHAPTER XXX.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
^Tf thou bring thy gift to the altar and there remem berest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift, first go and be reconciled to thy brother and then come and offer thy gift."
When the angels gathered together over the infant Jesus, and sang praises to God, they indicated the cause of their rejoicing — they had a prophetic vision of the blessed work the little mysterious stranger had come to accomplish. However figurative, or even legendar}^, this account of the evangelists may be thought to be, the story fairly outlines the purpose and life-work of the new-born world's Savior. Seven hundred years before the rapt Isaiah had a vision of a good time coming when, adopting his own strong metaphors, ^'the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together ; and a little child shall lead them ; and the cow and the bear shall feed together, and their young lie down together, and the lion shall eat straw like an ox, and the suck- ing child shall play upon the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the den of the addci when they shall not hurt nor destroy in all my
^12 THE NEW RELIGION.
holy mountain, and the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord." Isaiah ii: 6-10.
It seems that the ^^angel and a multitude of the heavenly host" had discovered that the time had come for introducing this glorious era of peace and good will, and that the chief actor in this drama of reform, was about to take the stage. In such prophesies as that of Isaiah, time counts but little. According to our chronology, which, however, is little better than mere guesswork, when relating to events in that early age, seven hundred years transpired before Jesus announced that this good time — ^^the kingdom of heaven is at hand."
But he had come to hasten it. And how he worked for it, lived for it, died for it, we learn with gratitude from the joint story of the four evangelists.
Paul said, ^'If it be possible, live peaceably with all men. ' '
Many other teachers had said as much. But Jesus puts it stronger — very much stronger than this.
Ye have heard that it hath been said ye shall love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy. But in the Chris- tian code there is no place for hate — absolutely none, except the hate one should always have, and must have (if he himself is good) against evil itself — against evil as such. I say, hate not your enemies. This old teaching is wrong. So far from hating, you should love your enemies — yes, actually love them. Should do good to them, pray for them, as you will be sure to do if you really love them. This is the way to bring
THE CHRIST MISSION. 313
in peace on earth and good will to men. This will put a stop to quarreling and bitterness — will reform and save men.
But more than this. On an occasion his disciples say to him, '^John taught his disciples how to pray — Lord, teach us to pray;" and, after some prelimina- ries, he consents — ^^ After this manner therefore pray ye — ^Our Father which art in Heaven,' etc., * ^ 'forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them who trespass against us."" " This kind of praying would hardly be safe for some people, especially if there were any dan- ger of their prayer being granted. It might prove to be a serious thing for them, to be forgiven only as they forgive, because they never forgive at all. You want to make your peace with God — to realize that, through his mercy and grace, the account is square.
Have you made your peace with men, those with whom you have done business, with whom you have had misunderstanding and clash of interests? If not, you cannot make your peace with God — at least, you cannot until you have exhausted all the resources of good will, in an effort to make your peace with men.
No, you cannot. Don't bank on your general good character, on your honest purposes, on your church relations and accredited piety, none of it. Unless you have it in your heart to forgive them who have trespassed against you, whatever else you may ask, don't ask the Father in Heaven to forgive you. He will not forgive you^ at least so says the Son of Man — the Lord Christ.
314 THE ISTEW RELIGION.
''If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there remenl- berest that thy brother hath aught against thee" — then what? Ask the Heavenly Father to forgive you any wrong you may have done him? No. Resolve to do better hereafter and go on with your offering? No. Shut your eyes upon the past and go on with your offering? No. But leave there thy gift, and go, first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer thy gift. Possibly 'twere hard to do this — humiliating. It may require all your moral courage, but there is no alternative. Leave there thy gift, be reconciled. There is something better for 3/ou, and more important, than the perfunctory services of religion. Your approach to the Father must begin at the point of your greatest distance from him. You can blink nothing. You must make a clean breast of it. You may not have much against your brother, may have nothing, but he has something against you. He thinks you have wronged him, and he is hurt, bleeding. Leave there thy gift. Go prove to him in some way, that at least you did not intend to injure him, that if you have done so you are sorry for it, and will make the ame?tde honorable. You can recover his confidence in any one of a hundred ways, if your heart is free to it. Leave there thy gift, first, be reconciled to thy brother, then come and offer thy gift. Why! you say this peace- making business seems to be a serious thing? It is. It is as serious and sacred as religion itself. It is impossible but that offences shall come. At best, we- are short-sighted, imperfect creatures, very liable to
THE CHRIST MISSION. 315
err, subject to passions that sway us to and fro, and it is morally certain that offences will come. They will come through reckless unconcern, come through strong temptation, come through mere inattention, come sometimes in spite of good intentions, but woe to him through whom they come. The liabilities and temp- tations to sin on the part of him who is offended are increased. The sensitive soul is pained. All heart- breaks bleed. But if peace and good will prevail, they will be less serious, and the injury inflicted will be mutually borne and easily expiated — when ^ ^war- ring passions cease their strife." Love dissolves sel- fishness, and throws her sheen of bliss over all the knots and scars of ill-directed sensibility and former ill will.
In Christian thinking, peace and good will are in- vested with all the sanctions of religion. The favor of God and the hope of heaven are staked upon them. With enmity cherished in your heart, you dare not repeat the Lord's Prayer in concert at church, nor at the family altar, nor think it in the solitude of your own soul. With enmity in your heart, you dare not enter into your own closet and shut the door, with intent to pray to the Father who seeth in secret, unless it be to cry out with the publican, ^^God be merciful to me a sinner." This peacemaking business is a serious and important one. To go on with it properly you must have love for your neighbor, even for your enemies, if you have any. Philanthropy is the need of the hour and of the life. And, ''Blessed are the
3l6 THE NEW RELIGION.
peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God/' The great All-Father cherishes an ardent love for every struggling child of humanity for what he is, or may become, on his own account, and he who ap- proaches him for succor and blessing, must do so willing to meet every brother man at the same shrine, and share with the same blessing.
CHAPTER XXXI.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
Whatever may the nature or extent of the change postulated by the Founder of the New ReHgion as necessary to the regenerate hfe of the sinner, the fact that it can be speedily effected under conditions subject to one's control is one of the most momentous consequence — a fact so great in its prac- tical possibilities as to warrant a halt in all other pro- cesses of reform, and demand a readjustment of reformatory agencies. The fact has had some recog- nition in Christian circles, but it has not been gener- ally relied on for half its value. It will help our con- victions on the subject to note results as they have appeared among men whom we know.
The Evangelical record is brief, but we have sig- nificant historical outlines. It is sufficient to note that the twelve peasants who became the disciples of Jesus, during their novitiate of three years, became a college of religious teachers whose respective habits and moral characters were in the meantime, with one exception, greatly changed and greatly improved. On occasions they had manifested a disgraceful sel- fishness and cowardice;^ but at least from the Pente-
I. Mark lo: 37; Luke 9: 54, Mark 14: 50.
3l8 THE NEW RELIGION.
cost onward they evinced a very different spirit, attest- ing their fidelity to the right with heroic firmness, even to the point of martyrdom. Luke tells us that ^^with great power, gave the Apostles witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace rested on them all. "^ They were reborn.
In the meantime others also had been ^ ^converted. " ''The half of my goods," said the Chief Publican, 'T give to the poor, and, if I have taken anything from any one wrongfully, I will restore him four fold."^ And the Master said unto him, ''To-day is salvation come to this house."
It is said that Jesus cast seven devils out of one Mary. Whatever this may mean, she at least ever afterwards appears as a most affectionate and beauti- ful character. And there were others of her intimate acquaintance and companionship who seem to have come into a like experience and character.
Just how Nicodemus himself was affected we are not told. We notice, however, that in the face of the mob, and at the risk of his life, he stood for giving the accused, whom he thought to be a teacher come from God, a fair trial, and, after the crucifixion, doing more than any of the "disciples," he united with Joseph in giving the crucified Lord a respect- ful interment.
The case of Peter is a clear one. How he had, on
1. Acts 4: 3.
2. Luke 19: 8.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 319
various occasions, given proof of a ruling s Jfishness; how he, though the acknowledged chief of the disci- ples, yet denied his Lord with an oath, and, with the rest of them, forsook him and fled, is matter of impartial record. His moral cowardice is especially conspicuous and humiliating. But at last the depths of his selfish nature are touched by a crushing sense of guilt, and the vehement, worldly-minded Peter awakes to a new life.
Let us hasten to note that the angry tumult had hardly died upon the air until Peter, facing and defy- ing the same murderous authorities from whom he had lately fled in terror, says, speaking for himself to John: '^We choose to obey God rather than man." ^^The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree, to be a Prince and a Savior, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins, and we are witnesses of these things."^
With what pleasure do we turn this page in the life of Peter and John. From this time forward Peter always boldly and bravely stood in the very front of the battle. ^^Old things were passed away.'' For thirty-four years, through heroic self-sacrifice, through persecutions and prisons, and threatened death, he maintained his Christian integrity, leading and honor- ing the cause of the New Religion, especially among the Jews.
In his letter addressed to the ^ ^strangers scattered
J, Acts 18; 39.
320 THE NEW RELIGION.
throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia," he included himself among those who have been ^ ^begotten again to a lively hope of an inheritance incorruptible, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven; ''' * being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth forever * called out of darkness into his marvelous light. "^
The impress of the Master's influence upon Peter's new life is unmistakably plain. '^What glory is it if, when ye — we — be buffeted for our faults we shall take it patiently? But if, when we do well and suffer for it, we take it patiently, this is acceptable with God. For even hereunto we are called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example that we should follow his steps, who, when he was reviled, reviled not again, when he suffered, threatened not, but com- mitted himself to him that judgeth righteously. "^
But Paul's experience furnishes a most striking illustration and proof of the possibility of a speedy and permanent change of character, under the Chris- tian regime. Behold him to-day, the merciless arch bigot, ^ ^breathing out threatening and slaughter," and going armed with authority to bring the humble disciples of the Lord Jesus to judgment and to death. But to-morrow the humble and teachable convert inquiring, ^^Lord, what wilt thou have me do?"
I I Peter, Chap, i and 2. 2, I Peter, Chap; I ^nd 2,
THE CHRIST MISSION. 32 1
Standing by with hard impenitence he had ''held the the clothes of Stephen," while the mob brutally mur- dered him. He had ''made havoc with the church, entering into every house and hailing men and women, committed them to prison." He had gone to the High Priest and "obtained letters to the Damascus Synagogue, that if he found any of this way, whether they were men or women, he m.ight bring them bound to Jerusalem." He was a good lawyer, a man of fine parts and fine scholarship. He could have succeeded and won place and power. He might at least have gone on with his business and let this bloody work alone. The authorities had not sought him for this nerve-testing business. He voluntarily took it up, and went forth with a zeal v/orthy of a better cause. We can hardly imagine a fiercer or more dispassionate bigot, a more deliberate perpetrator of high crimes against humanity.
But after that Damascus episode, let us note that Saul was a very different kind of man. He writes to the Romans: "Let us not judge one another any more! Let every one be fully persuaded in his own mind!" Saul of Tarsus, what has haj)pened! What is it you say? ''Let us ?iot Judge 07ie another any inorey "Why dost thou set at naught thy brother?" "We shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ."
And this is Saul! ^'If eating meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no more meat while the world stands," You are very considerate, Saul — very ten-
322 THE NEW RELIGION.
der and kind to your brother — very different, it seems, from what you were before that Damascus ride What has happened? ^^Old things are passed away, behold all things are become new." Saul, the obdu- rate persecutor, has emerged into a new world.
Henceforth, with all his great powers, he was sim- ple-hearted, child-like, transparent. His transforma- tion is complete. His intolerance and bigotry are gone. His hardness of heart and want of sympathy are gone. The spirit of persecution is gone. The cur- rent of life's forces sets in another direction. The Lord Jesus Christ has come to be all in all. If he had been narrow and selfish, his narrowness and sel- fishness had gone. After that voice and that light on his way to Damascus, and his interview with Ananias in the house of Judas, he buries himself in the Arabian desert for three years. Why? We are not told, but probably to commune more at length with God in prayer and meditation, to obtain the clearest possible understanding of what he should do, and to prepare himself for the responsible work which now was open- ing up before him. He '^conferred not with flesh and blood," he tells us, but yielding to the divine call, he went forth a chosen vessel to bear the name of the Lord to the Gentiles, to kings, and to the children of Israel.^
How heroically and successfully he fulfilled his high commission, and how faithfully and closely he fol-
j, Actg9: 15.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 323
lowed the great Exemplar and honored his cause is matter of delightful history. He was ^ ^converted."
Other cases could be given by the hundred and the thousand — apposite, beautiful! — some of them about as striking and decisive as that of Paul, and to the same effect; so fully does experience explain and enforce the teaching of the Lord Jesus Christ on the subject.
Justin Martyr, living half a century after Paul, says: ''We who formerly delighted in fornication now strive for purity. We who used magical arts have dedi- cated ourselves to the good and eternal God. We who loved the acquisition of wealth more than all else now bring what we have into the common stock and give to every one in need. We who hailed and destroyed one another, now live familiarly with each other. We pray for our enemies; we endeavor to persuade those who hate us unjustly to live conforma- bly to the beautiful precepts of Christ, to the end they may become partakers with us of the same joyful hope."^
When fifty years later the Christians of Bithynia were brought before the tribunal of the younger Pliny, they assured the Pro- Consul, that far from being engaged in any unlawful conspiracy, they were bound by a solemn obligation to abstain from the commis- sion of those crimes which disturb the public peace of society — from theft, robbery and fraud. * * ''The
I. Conflict of Chris. Heathenism, p. 166.
324 THE NEW RELIGION.
friends of Christianity," says Pliny, ^^may acknowl- edge without a blush that many of the most eminent saints had been, before their baptism (conversion), among the most abandoned."
Nor was the transforming power of the Christian Gospel limited to the early ages of the church, nor to tlie respectable circles of society.
The Lord Jesus gave large attention to the poorest and most degraded classes. So conspicuously true is this that some have thought that the Christ mission to this world was only to the poor. But such a view surely is quite too narrow and inadequate. He did, however, have hope of them — carried them most of all on his heart.
The Christianity of the times seems to be drifting toward the wealthy and pseudo ^ ^better classes." The down-town churches are getting away from the crowded marts out upon ^'avenues" and ^ ^boulevards," and away from the ragged masses. Fine churches are built by the wealthy, and for the wealthy, and comparatively few of the more degraded classes ever get into them, or hear the gospel anywhere. They seldom see anything distinctly Christian, and the con- viction seems to prevail that they are so sin-hardened and debased as to be practically out of the reach of the gospel. The very classes of people which appealed most strongly to the sympathy and the help of the Master are the most neglected. But, as in the days of the Son of Man, so in these days, the power of the gospel to save men from sin is often strikingly
THE CHRIST MISSION. 325
and beautifully illustrated by the conversion of some of the worst characters. With the hope of awaken- ing increased interest in the unfortunate victims of ignorance and crime, who yet constitute so large a per cent, of the population, I give the following cases illustrating the specifically Christian modus operandi and its results. It seems to me that Christians them- selves need to be again reminded of the powers and possibilities of the Christian gospel.
The following quotation from Rev. Irenaeus Prime, D. D., will explain itself: ^ ^Returning home after my summer recess in 1884, I had not been in my house five minutes when a gentleman called to ask me to conduct the funeral of Jerry McAuley. Is he dead? I asked in a burst of mingled surprise and emotion * * * The next day was the Sabbath. The funeral was to be in the afternoon. As the hour approached, and indeed all day, my thoughts had been dwelling on the fact that New York had no consciousness of the loss it had met. * * * Very few knew or cared for Jerry McAuley. We are going to the Broadway Tabernacle to talk of what he was and what he had done, to a little congregation that will gather there; if it were Dr. Taylor, the beloved and honored pastor, the house would be crowded, and the mourners would go about the streets, but poor Jerry, he is dead, and who will be there to weep over his remains! Ah, how little did I know the place he filled in the heart of this great city. * * *
^^As I turned down Fifth avenue, through Thirty-
326 THE NEW RELIGION.
fourth street, I saw a vast multitude standing in the sunshine, filhng the streets and the square in front of the Tabernacle. Astonished at the spectacle, and wondering why they did not go in and take seats in the church, I soon found that the church was packed with people. * * * * *
'^And then eloquent lips spoke of him, and the great good done by him in fields of labor uninviting and often repelling those who care for the souls of the perishing among us. It was said that no one pastor in New York is doing the work of this humble man — no pastor who will leave a wider vacancy when he falls, on the high-places in the field of duty.*'^
Jerry McAuley was a river-thief and criminal rough, convicted and sent to the penitentiary at Sing- Sing, in the state of New York, some years ago.
*^I was only nineteen years of age," he says, '^when arrested for highway robbery — a child in years, but a man in sin. I had spent my time in the vile dens of Water street. New York, practicing all sorts of wickedness. Here I learned to be a prize-fighter, and, by rapid degrees, rose through all the grades of vice and crime till I became a terror and a nuisance in the Fourth Ward.
*^I had no friends, no advocate at court, and, with- out just cause, I was sentenced to fifteen years in the state prison. I burned with vengeance, but what could. I do? I was handcuffed and sent in the cars to Sing- Sing^;
I. Introduc. Life and works Jerry McAuley.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 327
This sufficiently indicates his character and position in life. Let us follow him as he approaches the crisis of reform. He continues:
^^When I had been in the prison four years, one Sunday morning I went with the rest to service in the chapel.
^'I was moody and miserable. As I took my seat I raised my eyes carelessly to the platform, and who should I see there but a man named Orville Gardner, who had been for years a confederate in sin — ^ Awful Gardner' was the name by which I had always known him. Since my imprisonment he had been converted and was filled with a desire to visit the prison that he might tell the glad story to the prisoners. I had not heard of his coming, and could not have been more surprised if an angel had come down from heaven. * * After the first look I began to question in my own mind if it was he after all, and I thought I must be mis- taken. But the moment he spoke I was sure, and my attention was held fast.
^^He said he did not feel that he belonged on the platform, where ministers and good men stand to preach the gospel to prisoners — that he was not worthy of such a place; so he came down and stood in front of the desk, that he might be among them. He told them that it was only a little while since he had taken off the stripes which they were then wearing, and while he was talking the tears fairly rained down out of his eyes. When he kneeled down and prayed and sobbed and cried, I do not believe there was a dry eye in the
328 THE NEW RELIGION.
whole crowd. Tears filled my eyes, and I raised my hand slowly to wipe them off, for I was ashamed to have my companions or the guards see me weep. * I knew this man was no hypocrite. We had been asso- ciated in many a dark deed and sinful pleasure. I had heard oaths and curses and vile angry words from his mouth, and I knew he could not talk as he did unless some great change had come to him. I devoured every word that fell from his lips. * "^
^^I went back to my cell and what I heard was ring- ing in my ears."
Time passes, but he could not forget his old-time friend. He says: ^T was resting one night from walking up and down and thinking what a change religion had made on Gardner, when I began to have a burning desire to have the same. I could not get rid of it, but what could I do?"
Retried to pray, but could not ^^form a prayer." Remembered the publican's prayer, but was ashamed to say it. A great struggle ensued. ^ 'Every sin," he says, ^'stared me in the face. T am so wicked,' I thought — everything but a murderer, and that many a time in my will." A crushing sense of sin rested upon him for some weeks. ''But at last," he says, "the Lord sent a softness and tenderness into my soul, and I shed many tears. Then I began to read the bible on my knees. The Sunday services seemed to do me no good. They were dead to me.
"About this time Miss D. began to visit the prison, and I was sent for one day to meet her in the
THE CHRIST MISSION. 329
library. She talked with me, and then knelt down to pray. I felt ashamed, but I knelt beside her. 1 looked through my fingers and watched her. I saw her tears fall. An awe I cannot describe fell on me. It seemed dreadful to me — the prayer of that holy woman. It made my sins rise up till they looked to me as if they rose clear up to the throne of God. * What should I do? O what can a poor sinner do when there is nothing between him and God but a life of dark and terrible sin?"
He closes this tragic account as follows:
^^That night I fell on my knees on the hard stone floor of my cell, resolved to stay there, whatever might happen, until I found forgiveness. I was desperate. >h ^ic * h^
'^I prayed and stopped, prayed again and stopped, my knees were rooted to those cold stones. * I was determined to stay till morning, till I was called to work. And then, I said to myself, if I did not get relief, I will never pray again. I felt that I might die, but didn't care for that.
'^All at once it seemed as if something supernatural was in my room. I was afraid to open my eyes. I was in an agony, and the sweat rolled off from my face in great drops. O how I longed for God's mercy! Just then, in the very height of my distress, it seemed as if a hand was laid upon my head, and these words came to me: *My son, thy sins, which are many, are forgiven. ' I do not know if I heard a voice, yet the words were distinctly spoken to my soul. O the
330 THE NEW RELIGION.
precious Christ! * What a thrill went through me! I jumped from my knees; I paced up and down my cell. A heavenly light seemed to fill it. * I did not know whether I was living or not. I clasped my hands and shouted — Praise God, praise God."
We have now to note that Mr. McAuley was in due time released from prison on a governor's pardon, and, after tripping a few times, through the force of old associations and bad habits, he finally became an exemplary Christian and a very useful man.
He founded two successful missions and a religious journal in New York, and for sixteen 3^ears he labored among the most abandoned classes of the great city, with the most signal and gratifying success, being instrumental in the reformation of hundreds of notori- ous criminals. He was born of the Spirit.
Mr. McAuley gives the following account of one of the converts at his mission: ^'A professional gam- bler, William Fitz Morris, * was converted. He gave some fearful descriptions of his terrible business, and the scenes he had witnessed while engaged in it. He told how men of families would come in and stake, little by little, their earnings until every cent was gone; then, fascinated by the game, they would strip off their clothing, piece by piece, until the}'^ could go no further. He told of young girls sent by their mothers to buy * 'policy slips" for them — sent into these hell-holes, amid the cursing and obscenity of the lowest there, by their own mothers, until, step by step, they began to be crazed over the game and
THE CHRIST MISSION. 33I .
would buy for themselves * * and in the end sell themselves to get money to gamble with. His reve- lations were published in the daily papers, and his old associates became so enraged they threatened to kill him. We kept him and protected him from their fury. His health continued to fail, and we expected soon to have the task of laying him in his grave. He did not fear death, but continued strong in his faith and clear in the assurance of his acceptance with God through Jesus Christ. *'
The following case is given because it illustrates, on the one hand, the possible depths of human depravity, and on the other, the possibilities of reform, by methods peculiarly Christian:
^^There was a certain man called ^Rowdy Brown,' a great, powerfully-built, courageous fellow, who was a terror to the Fourth Ward. He had been a mate on the Liverpool packets, and was a savage brute. Once he happened to see a man sitting on the fore- castle reading his bible, and, without a word or sign of provocation. Brown drew back his heavy boot and kicked the poor fellow square in the mouth, knocking his teeth out and disfiguring him cruelly. * * * He seemed utterly fearless of consequence to himself, as he proved one day by standing and cursing a man to his face, who stood with a revolver in each hand, and fired their contents into his body. He was charged with several murders and other heinous crimes. * It happened that one of his sailor chums bad been converted^ and wa3 attending the meetings.
332 THE NEW RELIGION.
Brown was mad when he heard of it. Swearing a great oath, he said, ^I will take a bottle of whisky down there, and when that fellow gets up to talk I will take him *" * tear his mouth open, and pour the whisky down him, or break his back in the attempt.' He came round with his bottle and waited for his old companion to testify in order to carry out his plan. While waiting he listened to others, and listening he became interested, until all of a sudden he felt a strong feeling come over him, and he began to tremble. He fought it off with all his natural obsti- nacy, but it was of no use — it continued to grow stronger, and when his friend rose to testify this human lion was as tame as a lamb. When the testi- monies were ended, and sinners were invited to come forward. Brown stood up and cried out, ^O pray for me.' Everything was in a state of quiet, but intense excitement for a moment, for many present knew his desperate character. How he cried for mercy! It was awful to hear that man groan and beg. His strong body was racked with the anguish of his soul. He continued seeking in this manner, until the meet- ing closed, but apparently without encouragement. On the second night, after getting into bed, he was praying earnestly, when suddenly the light broke into his heart."
For the rest of his story let it suffice to say that he lived a consistent Christian life, was active in helping the mission, and died believing that God, .for Christ's sake, bad pardoned all his great sipis,
THE CHRIST MISSION. 333
The following touching story is so beautiful and so illustrates the Christian method of reform and its power to reach and to save even the most degraded, I shall be pardoned for quoting it somewhat at length:
^^One night a beautiful little child about five years old came to the door. She was a lovely little thing, with bright blue eyes and long golden curls — a perfect little picture, notwithstanding the poor care she had received. She turned to the m.an at the door and asked, 'Say mister, wont you please let me in? PI] be good if you will.' 'Oh no,' he said looking down at the little waif. 'You couidn t behave.' 'Yes I will, I'll be awful good. 'Caus' I want to hear the singing. ' He yielded to her entreaties, and she went in, and folding her little hands on her lap, sat as quiet as a mouse until the meeting closed. The next evening she came again leading by the hand another little girl, younger than herself, but looking very much like her. She again asked permission to go in, and having referred to her good behavior the previous night, it was granted. They walked deliberately up to the front seat, and, lifting her little sister well up on the bench, Mollie sat down beside her, and closely watched everything that was said or done. They behaved beautifully and at the close of the meeting my wife kissed them both, and gave them a chunk of cake each, and they ran out happy enough.
"This happened several nights and they always got their kiss and cake.
^^Qm night during th^ meeting, the mother of the
334 ^^^ ^^^ RELIGION.
little girls came to the door of the church and asked if the children were there. The man replied, he thought they were; when she said, ^I'll be thankful to ye mister, if you will go in and kick them two chil- dren out.' ^We don't do things that way here,' said the man; when she called ^Mollie, Mollie Rollins, come out here/ Poor little Mollie turned pale, and trembled, and looked at me with such a frightened look, like a scared bird. The mother screamed out her name again and added, T'll give it to you going in there with those black Protestants, you little wretch,' and as poor Mollie came out dragging her little sister after her, the drunken mother caught her by the beautiful curly hair, and flung her clear off the ground. ^PU kill you, if you go in there again; and, do they give you any beer in there? Say?'
^^The poor little thing looked up, though the tears were in her eyes, and said, 'O mamma, aint you awful! They don't drink any beer in there, and they don't get drunk neither.'
*^The next night just as service commenced, in walked Mollie and Jennie again. *Aint you afraid your mother will kill you.' -^Oh no,' she answered quickly, as she turned her blue e^es up to my face, ^I aint afraid. I like the singing.'
^'Everybody around the mission .oved those dar- lings, and was pleased to have them there. We missed them for two or three evenings, and afterwards learned the father had returned from a sea-voyage. The husband and wife both went on a terrible spree.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 335
with the money he brought, until finally he brutally turned the mother and little ones out of the house, into the cold October night air. That night Mrs. McAuley heard her name called; she listened a moment, and recognized Mollie's voice calling from the street, ^Mrs. McAuley, O Mrs. McAuley, come down, I want to tell you something.' After a minute the little voice rang out again, ^Mrs. McAuley, O Mrs. McAuley.' On going down, my wife learned that the father had put them out, and they had been on the roof. As the wind blew cold the little one said to her mother, ^Mamma, I know a place where the wind wont blow, and where we wont be afraid.' ^Where's that?' asked her mother. ^Over in the mis- sion,' said the child. My wife came up stairs saying to me, ^Mrs. Rollins is there with her children. I have let them in. I believe it may be the salvation of that woman' s soul. ' We took them up stairs, where we had the only accommodation the old mission house afforded. It was a rickety affair, but it was the best we could do. There was a straw tick, and a few old quilts, and as they turned in Mollie looks up to her mother and says ^thank God mother, we have a good bed to night.'
^^In the morning we gave them their breakfast — the same as we had ourselves, and sat with them at table. We never mentioned anything to the mother about her conduct, but treated them kindly, and, after breakfast, they left.
<'This was the first step toward reaching that poor
336 THE NEW RELIGION.
woman, and it turned out that the little acts of kind- ness were not lost.
''The man, having spent his money, went off to sea again, but left the family his advance money, and this was the mother's opportunity for another big spree, and she made the most of it. She spread it every- where, and soon the money was gone. But rum must be had, and one thing after another went to the pawn- shop, till there was nothing left that would bring a penny. The poor children were dirty and unwashed, and their hair was all matted and tangled, and they looked fearful. They came in one day, their lips blue with cold. My wife warmed them, combed out their hair, and curled it beautifully over their foreheads. She then begged two little dresses from a friend, who had some small girls; the dresses were somewhat worn, but were neat and clean, and the dear little things were happy as larks. When they went over where their mother was drinking she hardly recog- nized them. 'Oh,' said she, 'what happened to you? Who did that?' The rumseller's wife remarked, 'Why, Vd never known them!' 'Nor I,' said the mother. 'I hardly knew them myself. Well, you look good anyhow.'
"This was the second blow at that hard heart.
"Shortly after this the long spree began to tell on Mrs. Rollins, and she was taken sick; and after suffer- ing awhile she sent Mollie over after my wife; this being the first move toward us she had ever made, we hailed it with joy. My wife went as requested, accompanied
THE CHRIST MISSION. 337
by a friend, and oh, what a miserable sight there met their eyes! The room was robbed of everything mova- ble but the remains of a bed; fragments of dirty dishes scattered all around the dirty floor, the room cheerless, fireless, comfortless. They found her stretched with the horrors (delirium tremens), and without saying much to her straightened up the room, made a fire after getting some coal, and then the friend went home and brought over a pitcher full of good, strong hot tea, told her to drink it, which she did in a hurry. This helped her somewhat and they talked to her about her condition and prayed with her.
^^These acts of kindness were the hardest blows of all to her prejudices, and she broke down and said, *If ever I get well of this spell I'm going to come over, Mrs. McAuley, and see you at the mission.' She got well, and one night she came into the mis- sion during the meeting. We were singing. The stone rolled away, when she screamed right out, and starting from her seat, ran through the kitchen think- ing to get out that way. My wife followed quickly, caught her, and then kneeling down prayed earnestly with the poor sobbing creature. She found the Lord's help, and he so sweetly saved ner, that it was appar- ent to all. ' '
The rest of the story relates: how she was not ashamed of her religion; how she was persecuted b}^ her Roman Catholic associates; how she fell sick with consumption, and grew worse; how she loved those who had been instrumental in redeeming her from a
338 THE NEW RELIGION.
life of sin and shame, and how, at last she sweetly rested in the love of God and died. She was ^^con- verted."
A case is given of a man fifty-four years of age who had spent more than half his life in English and American prisons. His parents were thieves before him. When eight years old he was in prison with his mother and his aunt. He had been transported to Van Dieman's land for seven years, was sent to Australia for ten years, and to Gibralter for five years — had been in a solitary cell for three years, without being permitted to pass out of it. His back cut into gashes testified to the punishment he had suffered for disobedience. He said of himself, that^ coming out of prison, he tried to quit stealing, but yet he continued to steal, had ^ ^stealing on the brain.''
But he was converted. He makes this state- ment:
^^When I came into this mission on the i8th day of March, 1878, I vvas just down from ^Sing-Sing,' where I had been four years. But God has taken the desire for stealing out of my heart, and put a better desire there. I have not had a thought to steal since. I am trying to serve God now. I ask an interest in your prayers. McAuley's Life and Work, p. 202.
These cases must suffice, though I find it difficult to refrain from giving others, so beautifully do they illustrate and corroborate the peculiarly Christian spirit and modus operandi of saving men from sin.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 33^
Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord.
Stronger than death or hell,
The sacred power we prove, And, conquerors of the world, we dwell
In heaven, who dwell in love."
CHAPTER XXXII.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
The Jews lived in expectation of a great deliverer. The old theocracy had passed away. Their kings were dead, and they had passed under the Roman yoke.
But their prophets had assured them that a better destiny awaited the descendants of Jacob.
^^Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given. The government shall be upon his shoulders. * * of his increase there shall be no end.*'^
^Tn the days of those kings the God of Heaven shall set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed. * * His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and his dominion from generation to generation."^
This was the impassioned language of prophet and seer, which led the Jews to hope for an empire, of which the Old Theocracy was but a suggestion.
Answering to this expectation Jesus announces him- self as the child of prophesy — or, at least, accepts
1. Isa. 9: 6.
2, Dan. 4: 3.
tttE CHRIST MISSION, 341*
such announcement as true, and assured them that the long-expected kingdom is at hand.
But he was a great disappointment to them. They had utterly failed to comprehend their own prophet?^. They were living in the letter, their prophets had written in the spirit.
Jesus sought in every way to lift them out of their materialistic conceptions, but it seemed impossible. They expected to enter the promised kingdom by force of arms, and with the glory of conquest, and they saw nothing in the humble Nazarene that gave them hope. He was poor, and without rank or pres- tige. Besides, he did not fall in with their views, or enter into their hopes. And then they could not, or at least did not, understand him.
Remaining habitually down among the poor and obscure, he yet exhibited singular wisdom, and made most extraordinary claims to authority and high kin- ship with God.
The Jewish authorities could not, for a moment, believe that he was the promised ^'Messiah.'*
And he was himself keenly alive to the danger of being set down as an imposter, if not as a stark luna- tic. Nothing could save him from such a judgment but a life as unique and extraordinary as were his pre- tensions. His life must be a constant sanction and proof of his high claims. It must withstand the ordeal of merciless criticism. It must secure him against prejudice and bigotry, and protect him against the disgrace arising from his associations.
342 THE NEW RELIGION.
As a matter of fact, the Lord Jesus found it exceed- ingly difficult to make men believe that he was indeed the Christ
And yet this, precisely, was what he must Ao, oefore he could more than imperfectly begin his work proper.
Accordingly he improved every opportunity, and spared no pains to impress this fact upon men, and to build up their faith in him as such.
How he wrought miracles, lived a life of spotless purity, manifested the divine power and the divine love — how he opened up the way to life and immor- tality, was crucified, raised from the dead, and in the end was translated to heaven, are the more remarka- ble incidents in his wonderful life, as given by his four biographers, and repeated and confirmed by Paul and others — all this is familiar to all conversant with these scriptures; — a series of events certainly quite as unique and remarkable as were his claims to the Messiahship.
To further his purposes he chose twelve men who became his disciples.
These he instructed in detail, and, by dint of repe- tition, and fuller illustration, he sought to bring them up to some adequate conception of his true character and mission
But they seemed dull of understanding — often, mdeed, gave sad proof of it. However, he made some things plain, and won more and more upon their faith and confidence.
He appealed to the scriptures, and bid the incredu-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 343
lous Jews to search the scriptures, to note what had been written concerning him by Moses and by the Prophets, and in the Psalms.
And, last of all, he appealed to his works — ^'If I do not the works of the Father, believe me not, but if I do, believe me for the work's sake."
But the current set heavily against mm; tne Sanhe- drim, the Scribe, the Pharisee — the whole hierarchy, were yet against him.
It was not until late in his ministry that he thought it worth while to ask even his disciples, ^^Whom do men say that I am?" They had had much better oppor- tunities than the public generally, and it was to be presumed that, if others had failed to comprehend him, they, at least, had done so. ^^Whom do men say that I am?" ^'Some say thou art John the Bap- tist, some say Elias, others Jeremias, or one of the Prophets." Matt. i6: 14. After all that he had done to break his mission to the world, it seemed no one had understood him. But ^'Whom say ye that I am?" Peter replied, ^^We believe that thou art what thou hast claimed to be, the Christ, the Son of the living God." At last the disciples had caue^ht a glimpse of his true character, and Peter, first of all men, voiced the faith upon which he could proceed to build his future work.
It is not to be supposed that his disciples more than half comprehended their reply, for it is certain that they yet expected he would some day assume the reins of political power, and ^ ^restore the kingdom
344 I'HE NEW RELIGION.
to Israel." It is certain that, soon afterward, when they saw their Master in the toils, they all ^'forsook him and fled." But he had made an impression. He had at least caused them to formulate the truth, in their own words, and committed them to it. He had gained a point, and was evidently pleased to think that so much had been accomplished; and he replied: ^^Blessed art thou, Simon, son of Jonas. Flesh and blood have not revealed this to thee, but my Father in Heaven."
He experienced a like satisfaction when the woman in faith touched the hem of his garment, and again when the centurion applied to him with such confi- dence on behalf of his sick daughter. The truth was actually getting out.
However, even after the drama of his world-life had closed, there were yet but few who were convinced that he was, indeed, the promised Messiah, and fewer still who had any fair conception of his true character and mission, — so difficult was it to inaugurate the New Religion.
It is evident that, before he could fairly begin his work proper, he must succeed in revealing himself. Faith in himself, in the very nature of the case, must constitute the base of his superstructure — the ^^rock" Upon which he must build, as he intimated to the dis- ciples, and this accounts for his evident solicitude and purpose to make himself known in his true char- acter, both before and after his resurrection. **I came out from the Father and am come into the world.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 345
Again I leave the world and go to the Father — Ye believe in God, believe also in me."
Here then there is for the Christian a quid creden- dum — something to be assented to, to be believed— Jesus is the Christ of God, the world's Messiah.
But Christian faith in its fullness means more.
And now we have to note that Jesus, at last revealed and understood in his true character as the Christ, proposed to establish friendly and most intimate relations between himself and the world of mankind — such relations as would infallibly secure to men the development of spiritual capacity and power otherwise unattainable.
He was always easily accessible, did not repulse the most timid and consciously unworthy. He explained at length, and often, how congeniality and reciprocity could be established between himself and those who would accept him. But one thing hin- dered— indeed, it stood squarely in the way. Good and evil are incompatible. Between virtue and vice there is a ^^great gulf fixed."
If one has been doing wrong, fostering vice, he must stop it. He must eschew evil and cleave to that which is good. A sense of conscious guilt dis- qualifies the impenitent guilty for society with the good and pure. In the very nature of things it can- not be otherwise.
But Jesus calls upon sinners to repent and turn from wrong doing, and assures them that congeniality and reciprocity with himself are yet possible.
346 THE NEW RELIGION.
He gives indubitable proof of his love for men — even for the lowest and meanest. He exhorts men to accept his overtures — to make common cause with him, and share his blessing. He says ^Comeuntome all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. As to all that concerns your life and happiness, I and my Father are one. Whom I love the Father loves. He that hath seen me hath seen the Father.'' I rep- resent the Father. What I say to you I say not of myself, but the Father speaks to you through me. Come unto me, then; congenial and reciprocal with me, you are so with the Father.
As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you — abide ye in my love.
But Lord, thou art pure and holy and good — can this scarred life of mine become in kind like thine? You can hardly attain to that complete identification with the Father and fullness of blessing which I enjoy, hardly feel the strong pulses of love that throb in my breast, hardly realize the heaven of peace and satisfaction that reign in my experience. You have been touched and damaged by sin, as I have not. Your sky is overclouded, your spiritual faculties blunted, but come unto me and you shall find that sin has not destroyed your capacity for heaven and happiness. I am the vine, ye are the branches. The life that courses in the vine courses in the branches — the same in kind — abide in me. Though scarred and damaged by sin, you are not destroyed. Congeniality and reciprocity with me and with the Father in
THE CHRIST MISSION. 347
Heaven are yet possible. Doubt it not. Created in the image of God, you were born for such congeniality and reciprocity^ and, lifted out of sin, you are quali- fied for fellowship with the Son and with the Father.
^^I indeed baptize you with water," said John, *^but one cometh after me mightier than I * he will baptize you with the Spirit and with fire." What are some of the conditions under which this baptism of Spirit and fire takes place, have been noted in former pages. Converted — born from above, you enter into the kingdom of heaven, — you come into congeniality and rapport with the Lord Jesus Christ — you share his life and his joy. These things have I spoken unto you that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.
We note these two principal elements of Christian faith — a belief — a quid credendum and a ^^trust" — a quid fidendufji. The former is historical — objective, the latter experimental — subjective.
It is the latter which Paul defines as the assurance of things hoped for — the conviction of things not seen. It is this, which, in its subjective results, at least, yield the richest possible fruitage of the Chris- tian's life — the ^^joy unspeakable and full of glory."
According to his biographers, faith was the secret of a great power in the hands of Jesus, and he assured his disciples that it would be th^ condition of a like power in their hands.
We know that confidence in results is generally necessary to success. Mutual undoubting confidence
34^ THE NEW RELIGION.
makes beautiful homes, good neighbors, good society. It inspires friendship and love. But for mutual trust and confidence — faith in our fellows — in the powers that be around and above us, — we could not live.
Supreme faith seems to make men next to omnipo- tent.
'^Give a man faith and though his heart be narrow, and his brain confined, and what he believes, an absurdity, and a dream, he will pass by hundreds of other men who occasionally doubt, and tramping them in their gore, will control a fiery nation, and reign in terror, till the name of Robespierre is a trembling, and an abhorrence over the earth.'' ^^Give a people faith, and though its tribes be scattered and powerless over its desert domain, like the dismem- bered limbs of a giant, it will gather itself together, and stride forth along the quaking earth, till every nation trembles at the name of Islam. "^
It is not, however, my purpose to explain, or to attempt to explain, the relation of faith to powder, though there can be no doubt, that human failures are to be traced more frequently to lack of faith, than to lack of possibility. If faith, working by misguided passion in Alexander, could conquer the world as he did, what shall it not achieve, when working by love and directed by wisdom?
In the tropical language of the East, Jesus assured
I. Peter Bayne, in Christian Life, p. 44.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 349
his disciples, that, if they had ^^faith as a grain of mustard seed, they should say to this mountain, remove hence to yonder plain, and it shall remove and nothing shall be impossible to you." Matt. 17: 20.
This of course is hyperbole, but its teaching can hardly be misunderstood.
He himself did many wonderful things, which were called ^ ^miracles," but he said in connection, ^^The works that I do, shall ye do, and even greater works than these, because I go to the Father."
My opportunities shall cease, while yours will remain.
The subjective effects of faith are not less remark- able and astounding than the objective. They are seen in trance, in hallucination, in ecstacy, in clair- voyance, in rapture, in the entheasm of the poet, and the charisms of the seer, as well as in the exaltation attained in the higher Christian experience.
That some of these affections depend upon physi- ological conditions, can hardly be doubted, but the psychological phenomena probably arise none the less according to law. Fixed attention upon an object, ideal or real, and faith in it — that is, implicit reliance upon the occurrence of the expected, or desired result, —a conviction that it must be so, is sometimes fol- lowed by wonderful results, as the necromancers and mesmerists have proven. But, however inexplicable, we may not doubt that Imv reigns within the sphere of
350 THE NEW RELIGION.
the psychical^ as we know it reigns within the sphere of the physical.
If we grant that the wonderful Son of Man under- stood the laws of mind better than the philosophers, and who now doubts this? we should not be sur- prised that he should be able to achieve results that seem altogether extraordinary and miraculous.
But what is of most import to us, frail mortals that we are, is to know God the Father, and the Son whom he hath sent, to realize the divine presence in our experience to the extent of our capacity, — to enjoy all possible intimacy and companionship with the Holy Spirit which proceedeth from the Father.
When one comes to weigh the concerns of eternity against the shifting panorama of the present state of being, how precious and reassuring it is to know and realize that he is at one with the Father and with the Son, and that therefore whatever may happen, all will and must be well. Do clouds gather and storms rage — the Father Almighty reigns above them.
Do disappointment and suffering and uncontrolla- ble grief let down their pall of darkness upon the heart, in the starless night of seeming fate —
"Faith lends her realizing light,"
and the night lifts. Does death approach — the eyes close upon the murky environment of things perish- ing, to open upon the quenchless radiance of things eternal, and all is well.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 351
"God's ways are always right And love is o'er them all; Though far above our sight,
Though grief benight our way,
'Twill make the joy more dear, That comes with dawning day.
The path that Jesus trod,
Tho* rough and dark it be, Leads him to heaven and God."
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The Ministry of Works.
John Stuart Mill understands Christianity to be the maxims and precepts contained in the New Testament, and Mr. Mill is fairly representative of an influential class of distinguished skeptics. He says of Christian morality, it is negative rather than positive, passive rather than active, etc. In its precepts — ^^Thoushalt not" predominates over ^^Thou shalt."
This may be said, no doubt, of Old Testament morality, but certainly it cannot, with any truth, of Christianity. The one summing up of Christian ethics, given by the Master himself, will not justify such a charge — Thou shalt^ reads the two command- ments upon which Jesus said hang all the Law and the Prophets. Confucius had said, ^*Do not unto others what you desire others should not do unto you," but Jesus says, ^ ^Whatsoever ye would that others should do unto you do ye even so unto them" — a teaching broader and more aggressive. Repent of your sins, forgive them who trespass against, love one another, do good to them who despitefuUy use you and persecute you, love your enemies, etc. Where, Mr. Mills, is your predominance of Thou shalt not — where your passive, negative morality? ^^The doc-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 353
trines of the Founder of the Christian system," he says, ^'contain but a part of the truth," and so small a part that he thinks no system of ethics can be reared upon it.^
Such a charge, coming from one who understands Christianity to be but the ^ ^maxims and precepts con- tained in the New Testament, "appears on its face as a half confessed solecism. No one who has any just conception of Christianity can think of it as consisting of maxims and precepts. It is possible that in his view of it, it would indeed ^'contain but a part of the truth," and ^'fall," as he asserts, ^'far below the ancients," because he saw so small a part of it.
It is most evident everywhere that Jesus depended comparatively little upon maxims and precepts. When Demosthenes was requested to define eloquence he replied, ^^action" — ^^it is action." If you were to interrogate the Founder of the Christian system what constitutes morality, he would reply, action — ^' Works.'' ^^Art thou he that should come, or look we for another?" — inquired John, through messengers sent to Jesus. ^^Go tell John what? — the things ye do hear and see; the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them." He did not send word back to John as he might have done — I am he whom 3^ou yourself announced as the ^^Lamb of God thattaketh away the
I. Liberty, p. 98.
354 THE NEW RELIGION.
sin of the world," and upon whom you saw the '^Spirit of God descending as a dove and resting upon him." Whatever significance this announcement and revela- tion from heaven may have had, it was less as a proof of his Messiahship than the works which he was doing.
No great reformer ever depended so little upon maxims and precepts, and so much upon example as did Jesus. He appeals to his own example as fur- nishing the most authoritative attestation possible of his own divine mission. ^^The very works that I do — they bear witness of me." If for nothing else, believe me ''for the very works^ sake.'" So completely did Mr. Mill misapprehend the whole drift and scope of Christianity. And this misapprehension is yet the mistake of half the Christian w^orld.
To subscribe a creed and join a church, and thus take sides with Christian people, has passed too current for practical Christianity among those who, like Mr. Mill, have been able to see in it only the maxims and precepts contained in the New Testament.
''I am the Light of the world" — more than a preceptor. I exhibit a new life. I manifest a new spirit. I look to different purposes. I inspire better hopes. While I am in the world I am the light of the world. But I go to the Father. Following me and becoming like me you become the light of the world. Let your light shine, therefore, that others peeing your good works may glorify the Father in
THE CHRIST MISSION. 355
Heaven. My mission ends. As the Father hath sent me so send I you. Jno. 20: 21. It is yours now to take up and prolong this work. Ye are the hght of the world — the salt of the earth — you must take my place. O Master, too imperfect, too frail are we. You may not have my wisdom. You have not my responsibility.
You have my love — an experience in kind like mine, and the love that makes it my meat and drink to do the Father's will, will make it yours to do the same.
But remember, ^^I am the vine, ye are the branches. The branch cannot bear fruit except it abide in the vine. No more can ye except ye abide in me." Jno. 15: 4. Your lives must be like mine — the same in spirit, in feeling and purpose, the same in faith and trust in God — differing indeed in sturdy strength and robustness, as the trunk differs from the branches, but of the same sap and fruitage. If any one will be my disciple let him take up his cross as I have taken up mine, and follow me — I have led the way.
Is it said that this is raising the standard too high — that mere men are too gross and selfish — they will never come up to it? He resisted not evil, submitted to abuse, returned good for evil, loved all men, loved even his enemies, and prayed for his malicious perse- cutors and murderers — such virtues are too high — who among men can hope to attain such heights? And then what? Is there no redemption? Is humanity doomed? Or have we, after all, indications
356 THE NEW RELIGION.
here and there that such virtues are possible to men? Did not Moses so love his people that he was ready to die for them? Did not Socrates, for the love of the right, submit to abuse and to death? Did not Stephen pray, ^*Lord, lay not this sin to their charge?*' Does not the mother offer herself a sacrifice for her child? And have there not been martyrs to the truth and the right in all ages? Is the standard too high?
Resist not evil. Don't fight back and wrangle and quarrel. It will not do any good. It will do harm. It will put out your light.
If one shows greed and over-reaches you, prove to him that you are above all such practice — that your metal is of a different kind. To prove this may take your cloak, or more than that; but prove it plainly to him. He needs the reproof of such an example. It will do him good, and you owe it to him; give him your cloak also. He has struck you on one cheek, turn the other. Your liberality will show forth his selfishness in strong light and possibly reform him. Love your enemies. There is more in them than enmity to you — a great deal more, and much that is good and worthy of your love. You must not excuse or condone the wrong you see them do. Sin is sin, crime is crime, and hateful in the sight of God and good men. Your worst enemy may 3^et become an angel, there is such a substratum of goodness in him.
But, if the demands of Christian morality yet seem great, we know that there is possible to human nature that which makes hard things easy. It would seem a
THE CHRIST MISSION. 357
hard thing to shut up a noble woman for thirty years to the toil, and care, and anxiety of caring for a family of children. What solicitude, and self-denial, and sacrifice does it all imply! But a noble woman will do it all, and chooses to do it. She does not realize it to be a hard thing to do.
Christian morality requires only that the disciple shall follow his Master.
In social and religious life Jesus differed from other men more in some respects, and less in others, than most people imagine. He mingled freely with other men, went often among the poor, associated with them on easy terms, as you and I could do. He had about him no airs of special sanctity, and we need not have. In appearance and manner of life he was less an ascetic than the Baptist, less even than some very moderate Christians of the present day.
He was, it would seem, quite a man of the world, and really somewhat destitute of traditional piety, as some thought, in view of his conduct among publicans, and on the Sabbath day.
He was not selfish in any bad sense, nor do we need to be.
He was always ready to help and to give, when there was need, and so should we be.
He saw the danger of wealth, and undue attachment to this world, and avoided them, as we should.
He recognized the ' 'eternal verities" — truth, jus-
358 THE NEW RELIGION.
tice, goodness, and cherished them, just as we should. Why not?
In spirit and affection he was simple, devoted, transparent, child-like, as we might be and ought to be.
He sought to make peace among men, explained how they could do the same.
The standard is not too high.
Thanks to a more enlightened age, you will not be called on to face the Sanhedrim nor the cross, nor the stake, but you will need the Christ-integrity all the same. The Christian code, and your own manhood, for that matter, require it.
Let us banish, then, the suspicion, tacitly admitted by half the Christian world, that Christian morality, so beautiful in the outline of its teachings, is, after all, impracticable. This suspicion hurts. It tends to excuse and justify a low grade of morality — a grade of morality little if any better, but certainly not worse, as Mr. Mill would have it, than that of the ancients.
But if practicable, then incumbent. In espousing the cause of the New Religion you undertake to rep- resent and reproduce the life of the Lord Jesus Christ — to aid in perpetuating the work he inaugurated and extending it throughout the world — as the Father hath sent me so send I you.
It is evident throughout that Jesus depended upon a good example as the chief means of commending and spreading the gospel. He constantly refers to his own example as evidence of his own commission.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 359
It was his as the great exemplar, and he felt it to be his, to set an example of fidelity under an ordeal of trial and suffering that swept the whole field of temptation, touching him at all points, and exhaust- ing every motive to infidelity.
It was not enough that God should communicate his will through angel messengers. It was necessary that it should be revealed to sight and sense-appre- hension— crystallized in the experience of actual life. Words, though freighted with divine wisdom, are next to powerless, when compared with the touching and transforming influence of a radiant example.
None knew better than did Jesus the power of a good example to work reform. No one ever relied so implicitly upon personal influence and the power of a good example to sustain his cause.
He literally committed it to the keeping of good works — to the exhibition of the Christ-life. Others had organized well, taught eloquently, written wisely, but Jesus said, '^I am the light of the world," follow me. To his disciples he did not say: organize, edu- cate, enlist the wealthy, get the popular tide at all cost, as reformers are wont to do, but be humble, love each other, minister to the needy, visit the sick and the imprisoned. Let your light shine. You will be ignored, maligned, persecuted, possibly put to death, only be true — let your light shine. The light gleaming out of dark and obscure places of the earth to which he knew his humble faithful disciples would
360 THE NEW RELIGION.
be driven was his hope for the world — his trusted Evangel.
The power of example is not confined to the good alone. ^^If the light that is in thee be darkness how great is that darkness." A bad example will out- weigh and neutralize a great deal of precept — mere preaching. One bad example may curse a whole neighborhood — a whole generation. Behold the fasci- nating power of ^^fashion!" One follows another — fol- lows into every extreme of folly and absurdity, often at the expense of health and fortune.
During the witch-craft craze many who were per- fectly innocent of the supposed diabolical intercourse, were caught up by the excitement, confessed implication and were put to death.
During the persecutions of the early church, when even to profess one's self a Christian was the prelude to the sentence of death, men and women daily attested their devotion amid the horrors of faggot and flame, and the carnage of wild beasts. Their unflinching heroism so impressed the multitude, that, many converts actually sought and voluntarily pro- voked martyrdom, in so much that the authorities had to interfere and check the mania. It is not sur- prising that the Son of Man sought to avail himself of this overmastering power of example, when endeavoring to save the world from sin.
When the twelve and the seventy were sent forth as evangelists they were not sent to indoctrinate men, nor to proclaim the Lamb of God as ready to be
THE CHRIST MISSION. 361
offered in sacrifice to offended justice. ^^Go * to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and as ye go preach, saying, the kingdom of heaven is at hand; heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils — (whatever this may mean) — freely ye have received, freely give." They were simply to go on errands of love and mercy, following his example.
We are told that the intention gives moral quality to the act, and in a sense and to some extent this is true. A good action is not likely to spring from a bad intent, nor a- bad action from a good intent. The fact is, there are many intents good and bad which spring no action at all. The intention belongs to and affects the individual. It has in itself no ethical value. It may be good or bad without public benefit or public damage. Intentions do not constitute virtue, nor merit its reward. Like good precepts and good advice they are usually cheap if not a drug on the market.
Men are so interdependent and identified with the common weal, in all the relations of life, that what belongs so exclusively to the individual as the intent is of little weight or moment. The author of Chris- tianity has taught us that virtue lies not in the inten- tion, but in the act. The tree is to be judged not by its latent capacity, but by its fruit. It is not for every idle thought, but for ^^every idle word" that men must give account. ^'By thy words shalt thou be justified, and by thy words shalt thou be condemned." The intention must crystallize into action and affect
362 THE NEW RELIGION.
some one for weal or woe, before it has ethical value.
But you say out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, etc. Yes, and it is because they proceed out of the heart, and come to play their roll among men that they come to be factors of ethical results. He that looketh upon a woman lusting after her '^hath com- mitted adultery with her already in his heart. '^ Yes, truly. But he has not injured the woman. He has not outraged public decency and set the tongues of all the gossips going. He has not debauched public sentiment nor lowered the standard of public virtue, and cannot be called to account in any court, human or divine, for doing any of these things. But the cherished lust, however, has wrought its baneful effect upon himself. It has debased his moral sense. It has lowered his self respect. It has sunk him lower in the scale of conscious purity. It has made him more a brute and less a man. But the crime is his own and has ethical significance only as it tends to weaken and disqualify him for those helpful ministries in which his fellowmen have something of vested rights.
On the other hand a good deed, though it spring from selfish motives, and may therefore prove to be empty and worthless or even injurious to him who performs it, yet has ethical value, since it helps some one in the struggle of life and contributes to the sum of human well being. It is love — a pure and holy love — that consecrates both the intention and the ac »<
THE CHRIST MISSION. 363
and constitutes them a blessing. As a rule we are not to judge the act by the intention, but the intention by the act, because of its external relations and greater ethical import.
It is the life revealed in action that constitutes the individual a power among men. Jesus bore himself with exemplary virtue and goodness always and everywhere — through evil report and good, through obstinate bigotry and superstition, through malice and treachery, through wickedness in high places and in low, in Gethsemane, in the courts of the High Priest and of Pilate, in the hands of the mob and on the cross, — in all, and through all, he bore himself with such dauntless courage, with such sweetness of temper, and yearning love for his misguided persecu- tors, as to astonish and most powerfully to impress all beholders, and to spring a reaction in his favor that seems rather to increase than decrease in force with the passing centuries.
And hence his measureless power for good, his unrivalled success as a reformer, his authority as a teacher come from God. He was more than a victim offered in sacrifice, more than a substituted sufferer for the sins of mankind. He was a revelation, an inspiring exemplar, the Light of the World; and he who will be his disciple is to take up his cross and in all this follow him.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
The Ministry of Works — Supplemental.
One soul, with one God and destiny — the aura of the New ReHgion.
The Founder of Christianity steadily addressed himself to the individual. He summons the indi- vidual soul into the presence of God for review and judgment. He lays upon the individual the obliga- tions of a holy life, and makes it his duty to let his light shine. Even in matters of worship the indi- vidual, and not the congregation, nor a substituted priest, must be the actor. When he would pray he is to enter into his closet, and having shut the door, there alone he shall pray to the Father who is in secret.
The College of Apostles was in no proper sense an organized body — no constitution, no creed, no grip, nor bond, nor baptism — nothing to interfere with the autonomy of the individual. Jesus himself belonged to no organization, nor did he recommend organiza- tion to those who were to take up and carry for- ward his work.
The sense of personal obligation, binding naen to all helpful ministries, is the measure of the Christ-life.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 365
and the basis of the world's hope as set forth in the New Rehgion.
For 200 years or more it was the practice of the Christian preacher to go out among the people, and to do substantially as Jesus himself, and the Apostles, and Paul had done — to go about doing good as they had opportunity, preaching repentance for the remis- sion of sins, and the coming of the Kingdom of Heaven. They defined no creeds, built no churches, established no priesthood, claimed no ecclesiastical authority as binding in law.
In time, however, when to become a Christian was to encounter persecution, and the probability of a martyr's death, it was most natural that the Christian should desire the largest possible sympathy and moral sup- port from his fellow Christians, and, if there were no other reasons for it, this desire seemed to be a suffi- cient reason for ecclesiastical union; and then, too, if Christians had to withstand persecution, and go to the stake for their faith, it seemed most proper that their faith should be clearly defined, and definitely stated, in order that there be no misapprehension — no mistakes made in the dire emergencies which awaited them.
Besides, Constantino had the penetration to see that a concentration of the widespread Christian forces — forces which everywhere were proving ade- quate to conquer, would greatly strengthen hmi in his possession of political power, and he therefore led off in favor of ecclesiastical organization.
366 THE NEW RELIGION.
Hence, both a strongly organized church and an elaborate creed as early as A. D. 325.
But after all, these needs, so keenly experienced by Christians, were born of their fears, and it may well be doubted whether both the organization and the creed have helped more than they have hurt the pro- gress of Christianity.
The Master had said, ^*When they bring you before synagogues and the rulers and the authorities, be not anxious how or what ye shall answer, for the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what ye ought to say;^ thus providing in advance for the direst straits without the intervention of external helps.
The reader need not be reminded that a merciless and crushing despotism, enslaving and degrading a large part of mankind, grew out of this organizing and creed-making business; and its evil working is plainly not yet ended. One of its evils, and the one which claims our attention in this connection, is its tendency to lessen the the sense of personal obliga- tion to attend to the v^ants of men as they present themselves to the individual Christian.
With a strong church in the field, or several in the same field, as we have them now, to care for the interests of religion, it is very easy for one to conclude that if he but give liberally to support the church, he is playing his part, without drawing upon his time and business for the details of Christian duty; and,
I. Luke 12: II.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 367
accordingly, he buckles down to business, and rele- gates the duty of letting his light shine, to the church. A writer in a leading religious journal, just to hand, says: ^*Helpless invalids must be cared for by their friends, if they have them; if friendless, then by the church or the community!"^ Here it is in plain Eng- lish. The tendency is unmistakable. The Priest and the Levite, who passed by on the other side, and left the poor fellow who had fallen among thieves unhelped, must have felt very much like this modern priest. The man had no friends and they left him to be cared for by the church, or the community.
Between the constantly recurring need of money to keep up the church and pay the minister's salary — to meet the claims of subordinate missionary societies, mite societies, sewing circles, etc., id omne genus, and added to these, the rivalry of congregational leader- ship, the last dollar that can be squeezed out the pious individual member is paid over to organized agencies — paid over, possibly with the best of motives, and applied, too,- possibly, to the furtherance of good causes, and it is very natural that the ordinary Chris- tian should come to believe and feel that he has, in this way, done his duty. Accordingly, like the brother mentioned, he relegates the cases of personal need which come within his knowledge to the ^^church" and the ^^community. " But is this Chris- tian altruism?
I. Prof. H. F. Fisk, D. D., in N. W. C, Ad., May 14, '90,
368 THE NEW RELIGION.
I know we are told the times have greatly changed since Jesus wrought his helpful ministries in Galilee. The twenticith century, with its institutions and its civilization, is upon us. Things are done now on a large scale. I grant. Everything is organized, from a mighty church seeking to set up her throne of power in all lands, to a prayer meeting or a child's play. The individual is absorbed. The big fish have the wave. Of course the stronger the church the better. The stronger and richer, the more talent it can command, the more imposing cathedrals and temples it can build, and the sooner it will ^^fill the earth with the knowledge of the Lord."
But candidly, is the method of this century, with its display of large means — its roar and thunder and tramping of feet — its glitter and glare of gold — an improvement upon that of the first and second cen- turies, with their small beginning, their comparative destitution of means — their humility and the little '^leaven" that was to ^ ^leaven the whole lump?" What is the proof of it? The Roman empire was conquered to Christianity during the first 200 years. What Roman empire has been conquered to Chris- tianity within the last 200 years? What has been the annual increase per centum of the population of genu- ine, not noniinal Christians of the last 200 years, with all the advantage of multiplied centers of operation, better knowledge and exhaustless resources, as com- pared with the increased per centum of population during the first 200 years? Before great cathedrals
THE CHRIST MISSION. 369
were built, or elaborate creeds were made up by ecclesiastical councils, and before organization had become a ^^craze," the New Religion had encountered ignorance and vice — wickedness in ^^high places" — all the forms of selfishness and depravity — it had encountered Paganism, with its learning and philoso- phy, and won glorious victories. Now, enshrined in strong and wealthy organizations, and with modern methods, is it doing more or better?
A single church in New York is said to be worth $150,000,000.^ Another in the same city $100,000,- 000.2 'pj^g Presbyterians have $300,000,000 in Chi- cago,2 and all the leading denominations count their wealth by millions. Are they likely to do more for the spread of genuine Christianity than did a proportional number of the early Christians following the methods of the Apostles and Paul and the preachers of the first century, before there were either creeds or cathedrals or an ecclesiastical priesthood? Or is it another case of Goliath in his armor and David with his sling?
In union there is strength. Certainly there is. If you want to pull up sycamine trees and remove mountains into the sea, the more spikes and shovels and levers you employ the sooner you will accomplish your purpose. But in the case before us it may be a question whether you can use spikes and shovels.
1. See Fo7'tcni, Nov., '8g.
2. Retiring Moderator's address before Presbyterian Asserr.- bly, 1890.
370 THE NEW RELIGION.
There are things which cannot be put into an organization. You can only put into an organization what has a value in common, or is supposed, at least, to have such value. But your religion is worth more to you than it is to your neighbor, and his religion is worth more to him than it is to you; and so of all the rest. Each one's religion belongs to himself and ought to be sacred against all comers. In the nature of things it cannot be built into an organization. The effort to do this has been a disastrous failure in all time. It has rent the Christian world into many fragments, and caused an immense and cruel waste of means and engendered an amount of sectarian strife and bitterness that is sickening to contemplate.
If you think best you can build round an ^'ism,'* and you may persuade a good man}^ to help you. But in the public mind "isnis^^ are at discount.
Catholicism, Methodism, Presbyterianism, Bap- tistism, and the rest — each and all are something less than Christianity. They have ear-marks that disfig- ure them, ^^shibboleths" that betray narrowness, if nothing worse. They beget suspicion of selfishness and offend public taste. They are not the best thing to build around and build up.
Besides they are dying out. They will not live for- ever. Some have already died, and more are dying, and I do not believe that to invest in them largely is to make the best use of the ^^Lord's money."
The twentieth century civilization is not favorable to the spread of genuine Christianity. It depends too
THE CHRIST MISSION. 37I
much Upon organization and hurrah — upon marble and gold — and too little upon personal piety and good- ness— the leaven that is to leaven the whole lump.
Sixty years ago Dr. Channing said, organized societies at present tend strongly to excess, and espe- cially menace that individuality of character for which they can yield no adequate compensation. It is notoriously evident, at least to those who have not been caught up by the craze for organization, that the fears here expressed were well founded. Everywhere there are ^ ^leaders, " a few, followers, many — leaders, sometimes selfish, ambitious, unscrupulous, and gen- erally overrated — followers, wanting in individuality and true manhood, and ready on occasion to cry, ^Crucify him! Crucify him!"
The glorified civilization of the present imposes conditions unfavorable to the spread of Christianity. It makes a god of wealth. It fosters a disposition to indulge in short-lived and debasing pleasures. It influences men to lay up their treasures upon the earth. It dwarfs the individual and his light-shining capacity. The times have indeed changed since Jesus sent his reply back to John in prison. Reversing the order, the rich^ more than tlie poor have the gospel preached to them. Silk and diamonds lend their attractions to pulpit and pew, without increasing their power for good. Wealth is decoloring and detoning Christly goodness in highly cultivated circles, and many of the modern apostles of Christianity, without any great amount of the scruple and tender conscience,
372 THE NE\V RELIGION.
such as was Paul's, are resting serenely in the lap of wealthy and fashionable congregations.
Organization is in the air of the present. It is seen in trusts and syndicates — in everything and every- where. The individual is seldom seen in his own capacity.
It may well be doubted whether a genuine Christian socialism is now possible without a thorough recon- struction of the church and Christian institutions. The individual has well nigh disappeared from human society. If you find him struggling for recognition, you find him in an unequal contest, pitted against some one or more great combinations, social, political, or ecclesiastical, that are ready to club him down as a ^^crank,'^ and hoot him out of society. It is worth about all that a man holds dear in society, to be a true man, and dare to do his own thinking. The tendency of this organizing age is to debase the masses by stripping the individual — the unit of the masses — of his sense of personal capacity and responsibility. In social life, fashion, in politics, party, and in religion, the churches, have usurped the functions of the indi- vidual and sway the scepter of a debasing tyranny over the masses. Mr. S. W. Dike, in the January, 1890, Century, has noticed this tendency among Chris- tians to rely too much on the church. He says:
^^It is time we ceased to make people feel that there is no salvation except by way of the church door, in simple justice to him who said T am the door.' * * No form of ecclesiasticism, not even that of the most
THE CHRIST MISSION. 373
orthodox protestantism, any more than that of Rome, can shut him within church walls, or look to the con- gregation as the place for the greater part of his work.''
A Nashville editor said: — ^^It is a malign paradox of ecclesiastical history that as power declines ma- chinery increases." A New York editor, commenting on this sentiment, says: — ^^The machinery now deemed necessary to carry forward the work which was originally committed by Christ and his apostles to the loyalty and devotion and philanthropy of indi- vidual Christians, is something appalling."
And another responds: — ^^Machinery has little func- tion in Christ's ministry. * * Christ's ministry and method were at least typical and illustrative of the economy and secret of greatest success in bringing the world to accept him as Savior and Master."
There are in the United States about 90,000 preachers of the gospel. If they all had the love and zeal that sent Paul out through the gentile world, and the self-sacrificing conscience that made him work with his own hands, lest he might become ' 'burden- some," how soon would the light of the blessed gospel flood all this land!
Th'e census report of 1880 gives the population of the United States as 50,000,000, and the number of Christians of all denominations as 16,000,000 — one to less than every four of the population. Suppose every one was a good Samaritan kind of Christian, with his oil and wine and his two pence at the inn,
374 THE NEW RELIGION.
and his promise of more, what would be the result before the next moon?
Another cause, it is believed, operates to lessen the sense of personal obligation to active beneficence.
There is a religious cultus which makes the not-me about everything in religion and the me nothing, or next to nothing. The sinner is taught that he is a poor, totally depraved and helpless mortal whom nothing can save but God himself, by a fiat of his redeeming power.
This, because of his great love, the Heavenly Father is disposed to do. The sinner must be '^redeemed," ^'washed," ^'purified," made holy by the divine will and power. He must, indeed, become willing to be saved, but here responsibility seems to end. He must be saved by grace through faith, and the grace is the grace of the divine Not-Me.
Henceforth, what concerns him most is, how^ to keep his religion, and in the end make sure of heaven. ^^I want to be good," said a brother in so many words, the other day, in a class-meeting, ^ ^because I want to be happy.'' This is the feeling. Under this cultus, if you attend to what are called ^^the means of grace" — prayer meeting, public worship, etc., you will be most likely to maintain your Christian integrity, and secure the '^crown of rejoicing" and ^'harp of gold." No altruism, — none of the candle burning itself out to give light to other people. It is the Old Religion against the New, and borders upon selfishness.
It did not seem to have occurred to the brother
THE CHRIST MISSION. 375
that, born into the kingdom, he must go out of him- self, and, at the cost of himself, he must do some- thing to help somebody in need, that he must become a supplement a7y Christy commissioned to help save the world from sin.
Under this cultus the redeemed sinner owes every- thing to God, and what more or better can he do than to serve God, that is, to say his prayers regularly, to attend upon public worship faithfully, to support the church, reverence the minister whom God has sent him, read his bible, etc.
But all this is done around one center, and that center is himself — his own happiness.
Such a cultus tends to dwarf the sense of personal obligation to render service to the outside world, lying in poverty and squalor and wretchedness, by exalting those objective agencies and instrumentali- ties upon which the ^^believer*' is made to feel his own salvation largely depends.
Religion is the chief concern. Morality is good among men, but some very profane and wicked men are good moralists and upright enough. But moral- ity is human, religion is divine. Religion is prayer. Religion is worship, and getting close to God, and having rapturous communion and fellowship with the Most High.
I could forever stay
In such a frame as this. And sit and sing myself away
To everlasting bliss.
376 THE NEW RELIGION.
In this habitual ecstacy what to him are the hunger and thirst and nakedness of the outside world? What are helpless poverty and sickness and want? His back is to the world, his face toward heaven, God is all in all, and glory his destiny.
The teaching is at fault. It leaves out works. It leaves out light-shining. It permits the votary to forget that, ^^As the Father hath sent me so send I you. ' *
In that dramatic representation of the last judgment given by Matt, the results of life are summed up and the value of those helpful ministries which are made so abundantly possible in this present unequal life of mankind are most powerfully set forth:
^^When the Son of Man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory: and before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, and the goats upon the left. Then shall the King say to them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was an hungered, and ye gave meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me. ' ' Astound- ing! They themselves had not known the moral value of their benevolence and their benefactions. 'When
THE CHRIST MISSION. 377
saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? Or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And then the King shall answer and say unto them, '^Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
^^Then shall he also say unto them on his left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, pre- pared for the devil and his angels: for I was an hun- gered, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick and in prison, and ye visited me not/'
Possible! They had not waked up to the damning character of that close-fisted selfishness which could go stalking amid want and squalor and suffering unaffected.
''When saw we thee an hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them say- ing. Verily I say unto you. Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not unto me. And these shall go away into everlasting pun- ishment; but the righteous into life eternal. Matt. 25: 31-46.
CHAPTER XXXV.
The Ministry of Works — Supplemental.
The following conversation between two New Yorkers, one a popular minister of the gospel, and the other a Christian business man, will explain itself:
A. Good morning, Mr. B., I believe I saw you in the congregation at my church yesterday.
B. Yes, sir; I was there.
A. Do you reside in the city?
B. I do.
A. You don't get round to my church often. I think I have not noticed you before.
B. No sir, I don't attend church services very regularly; I go when I have time and feel that I need such service. 1 work hard through the week, and I generally feel by the end of the week that I need a little rest, and then, too, the Sabbath furnishes me the most leisure I can command for reading, which I very much enjoy.
A. I think you would find that it would help you to maintain your religious life — your spirituality and ^'growth in grace," if you would attend the church services regularly; and, as to rest, you could get that quite as well, or better, at the church.
B. People evidently make very different estimates
THE CHRIST MISSION. 379
of the value of ^'church services.'* Church-going people seem to hold them sacred and almost indis- pensable to a good life. But I do not care to d'.scuss the measure of their utility now — I want time to read, and, besides, having some notoriety among the poor, I often have occasion to attend some one's need on the Sabbath.
A. The teaching at the church might be valuable — possibly as valuable as that of your book; and, would not the ministries of the church during public worship qualify you all the better for your ministries to the poor. You cannot do much for the poor except to supply their present need, and this at best would be to them a service of somewhat doubtful value — it might in the end do them more harm than good.
B. I beg your pardon — the poor generally need sympathy. The world turns its back upon them and they are likely to come to feel that they are aban- doned of men and forgotten of God. One's friendly presence, even for a few moments, as occasion may offer, gives them cheer and comfort, and will do them much good, and especially so if one has something in his hand for the needy mother and children.
A. But according to my experience it is difficult to reach them for any permanent good. For the most part, they live on a very low plane, and are so gross and unappreciative you can hardly start a thought of the higher life. What do most of them care for their souls? Many of them hardly know they
380 THE NEW RELIGION.
havs souls. Alas! there is no great encouragement to try to help them.
B. And yet, however low and gross, their desti- tution, as I often see it, affects me keenly. I cannot forget that they are of one blood with myself, and made ^^in the image of God," and if I cannot minister to their higher nature, as you seek to do, I can, at least, do something in the way of supplying; their physical needs, and this sometimes seems to me to be much.
A. Oh, I grant that using prudence and circum- spection, we must not let the poor suffer. But the poor we shall always have with us. Mere physical need is, when we come to think of it, a low grade of need. The body soon dies; the soul is immortal. You help the body, and, in the nature of things,, soon all is gone; you help the soul and your work will remain. You yourself need the services of the sanc- tuary to nourish your moral and religious nature, and prepare you for the life immortal. We owe more to God than we do to our poor neighbors, and it reverses things to serve them more and him less. There is a vaporing sympathy which would exhaust measurele^j resources upon short-lived charities, and render more durably useful benefactions impossible — a sympathy which hurts more than it helps the world.
B. You state the case strongly, and I know that you express a feeling widespread, even in Christian circles. Prudence in giving must be counted among the virtues, since we know that there are those who are base enough to take advantage of our liberality
THE CHRIST MISSION. 381
and abuse it. But on the other hand you will allow that there is danger of this special plea of prudence playing into the hands of a blighting selfishness. It is to be noticed that Jesus, having no money, went down among the poor in boon companionship, eating and drinking with them — even with * ^publicans and sinners." He did not seem to be quite willing that they should be left to the degradation to which they had been reduced by sin and a hard fortune. The fact that only one of the ten lepers he had healed returned to give glory to God did not put a stop to the leper- healing business. He discouraged any too severe discrimination among thu needy, by calling attention to the fact that God sends his rain and sunshine upon the just and the unjust. If ten righteous could be found in the cities of the plain, they were not to be destroyed. It were an inexcusably wicked distrust that would let the deserving poor suffer because the well-meant charity might be occasionally abused.
A. But financial sympathy is more liable to abuse than spiritual sympathy. You give your money, and it may be spent upon appetite — upon intoxicants — upon inordinate passion, and so do more harm than good. You give moral instruction, use you influence to make the life better, and if you have done no good, you have, at least, done no harm.
B. Plausible, certainly; and, since we owe most to God, you think that as a first consideration we should serve God, and that, if we do this, the service of men will not be neglected. But please, hoiv will
382 THE NEW RELIGION.
you serve God without serving men? Will your prayers and sanctuary services please God and render him more propitious? Will they gratify him — do him good? We have authority for believing that many who are well up in religion — many who say ^^Lord, Lord/* ^ 'shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven/' It is granted that, if your worship be sincere and true, it will do you good, and that it should not be neg- lected. But how else or who else can it benefit? Herein is my Father glorified that ye bear much fruit. Verily I say unto you — please note the emphasis — ' 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Here we have a ''service" which is recognized as the "serv- ice of God."
A. As to doing God himself good — serving him in that sense no mortal, of course, can serve him. But there are other ways of serving men than by feeding and clothing them. They really need to be saved from their sins — converted — more than they need to be fed and clothed. Their highest possible interests are at stake, and he that succeeds in getting a soul converted "shall save a soul from death and cover a multitude of sins." As a minister of the gospel this is my peculiar work and responsibility.
B. A most noble work — indeed a "high calling." My mission is more humble. But, if you give what is needed, and what is felt to be needed — mark what I say — you will touch deep into the heart. Nine times out of ten you will stir the better nature, and
THE CHRIST MISSION. 383
there will be no abuse of your generosity. About a week ago I heard of a neighboring destitute family and I called in to see them. A sad scene presented Itself. They told me you had been there. Do you remember them — on Water St., No. ?
A. Oh yes— several of them sick, and very poor. I don't wonder at their being sick, living in such a place — should think they would all die of filth and malaria.
B. Did you talk with them?
A. Yes, quite at length. I tried to tell them of Jesus and God and heaven — a better world. The children who were able stood round staring at me. The mother seemed feeble and stupid; the father coarse, stupidly inattentive, and evidently shiftless. I felt sorry for them. I prayed with them and for them, and gave them a bible. What more could I do? What a pity that people will not hear the truth and learn to do better before such grossness and hard- ness overtake them. It is hard to reach people so low in the scale of being.
B. I must say, I was deeply affected, especially when I remembered that, without doubt, there are thousands and thousands of such and similar cases of destitution in this one great city. I inquired a little into the history of this family. The husband had been a shoemaker, and this was his brief story: — ^T had no great difficulty in my early married life in providing for my family; but after they began to make shoes by machinery the price of work went down till I was
384 THE NEW RELIGION.
compelled to quit the business. I had to catch jobs and do what I could. And then I took sick and lost a good deal of time, and so got behind, and have never been able to catch up. And, to make matters worse, my wife took sick and has never recovered her health, and now the doctors say she has the consumption, and here we are — God only knows what is to become of us."
I said to him, ^^My dear sir, we will get you out of this. God has been good to me, and I have some means, and we will get you out of this.'' I found a girl and employed her to go to work for them and clean up. I provided a new and comfortable bed upon which the poor woman could rest. I ordered up what was needed from the store and the grocery. I furnished shoes and clothes for the children, and I said to them, ^'Now take courage. I will not forget you and God will not forget you, nor cease to love you. Here is ten dollars, if you should need anything before I get back to see you. I will call again next Sabbath." On leaving them there was a scene. Big tears were rolling down the father's radiant face. He was too much affected to speak. The mother, stretch- ing out her trembling, bony hand sobbed out — ^^O how we thank you! God bless and reward you, if we never can." And the children were happier than they
could tell. Hard to reach people on so Iowa
pla7ie of being! You seemed to think they had scarcely anything of the better nature left within them, so stupid and morally insensate were they. But I did
THE CHRIST MISSION. 385
not find them so. I doubt whether an angel in heaven could have struck a sweeter note of praise and grati- tude, or poured a grander symphony into the ears of the All Father than did that family on Water St. — And, of course, I will stand by them. I will see them out. They are of my own blood — my neighbors — and as a Christian I cannot do less.
Your higher ministries did not reach them. My humble ministries did reach them. You gave them what you thought they most needed, I gave them what they felt they most needed. Through the felt needs you can walk straight into the better nature. You can- not begin at the top and build downward. You can- not climb up to heaven without a ladder. Jacob's angels could not. It is not a matter of impossibility. It is a question of how. Your means are not well adapted to accomplish your ends. You seek to carry forward the work inaugurated by the Lord Jesus, but the tv/entieth century is upon us and you have found a different way of doing things. He went among the poor and destitute with more than a bible in his hand and prayers with them and for them. He went with a spirit of sympathy and fellow feeling that opened his heart and his hand. You did not. You went with your sermon and exhortation. You went with kind words and good advice, all of which is always theap in the market, because it is of little value, and you failed. *^If a brother or a sister be naked and in lack of daily food, and one of you say UUto thcjm; Go in peace, be ye warmed and filled;
386 THE NEW RELIGION.
and yet ye give them not the things needful to the body, what doth it profit?^ Your rich congrega- tion arranges expensive appointments, and you pre- pare elaborate and elegant sermons, but I am quite sure that no one of your public services in a year past has produced a more profound impression than the humble benefactions bestowed on this poor family. For conserving public virtue and personal piety and good conduct your church services may be the best possible. This is not my point, but, as an evangel, as a means of reachin g and saving the lost and the d3ang in this great and wicked city, your method is a comparative failure. Those who need most that gospel which is the ^/power of God unto salvation" never get into your fine church, and if, as you did in this case, you attempt to carry it to them, it is presented in such a way as to make it seem to them worthless.
A. But mercy on us, man! Such reckless and indiscriminate charity would soon bankrupt a million- aire. I remember now having heard of an eccentric enthusiast on the subject of charity. I think I must have found him.
B. But how is it? — beijig a Christian, how could I have done otherwise with this family, with whom now we have had something of a common experience? They are my neighbors — under the aegis of the second commandment. If I love them as I love myself could I fail to help them? You have, I understand,
I, James z\ 15,
THE CHRIST MISSION. 387
an elegant family — a wife and five children — and of course you love them. Could you leave them down on Water street with a tithe of the needs of this family, and go on with your own abundance and com- fort and Christian duties, as you do now? We know full well that you would sink yourself to their lowest level, if it were necessary, to rescue them from such a condition of poverty and want.
Are you, to be frank about it, quite sure that you really love '^your neighbor as yourself," and are, therefore, entitled to be called a Christian? Are we to understand that what 370U did for that poor family is the measure of your love for them? You give proof that you love your wife and children. You ■ divide with them and would share fortune with them, whatever might happen. Where is the proof that you love these neighbors of yours down on Water street as you love yourself? Love levels things.
It holds all your children on the same level before you. You could not bribe a mother to conscious partiality with millions. It brought the early Chris- tians to a level, insomuch, that for awhile they had '^all things common. '^ In the mind of Jesus it brought Jew and Gentile, Pharisee and Publican to the same level. Paul felt he owed the same debt to Greek and Roman, to Barbarian and Scythian, to bond and free. Love levels things and makes com- mon cause, and if your love don't level you down to something like equality in matters essential to happi- nessp there must be something wrong. Love hardly
388 THE NEW RELIGION.
stops with equality. The big boy always gives the better half to his little sister, and the little sister, in return, reciprocates her brother's generosity. And this overplus of giving is the dictate of true love the world over. But you seem to be able to stop at an infinite distance short of equality. I repeat, are we to understand that what you did for the poor family on Water street is the measure of your brotherly love? Is the love that sits blissfully in the lap of wealth — dresses in silks, wears diamonds and fares sump- tuously every day in the midst of ghastly want — is this kind of love, in your estimate of things. Christian love?
There are certain things which we all must have or suffer, and to which, under the Christian regime, all have an equal right, among which our fathers named '^life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.'' We may add, all must have food and raiment, and some- thing of physical comfort, of fellowship and of good cheer. Having these, all may be happy. Without them, none can be happy. True love will not — can- not stop short of making common cause in the essen- tials of human happiness. It will not permit suf- fering, if it be possible to prevent it, cost what it may. But love, less embarrassed than state legisla- tion for the poor, is not, as you say, indiscriminate in the use of means.
It would be a great mistake to divide out your property with those who have but a fraction of your prudence and wisdom in conserving and controlling
THE CHRIST MISSION. 389
it. If you use judgment you will not '^cast your pearls before swine," nor be at a loss to find genuine cases of dire want in which your help is sorely needed. Our visit to Water street must have convinced us of this.
That Water street family has as much right to be fed and clothed and made comfortable as I have; and if I have the virtue of the second commandment, and the means, I will not stop short of feeding and clothing them till they are as comfortable. This, of course, does not mean that I shall proceed to divide up all I may have left. We must be prudent, I grant — be careful to make good investments, but a genuine Christian socialism demands that these helpful bene- factions shall be continued until, in matters essential, all, the rich and the poor, are brought to a common level.
A. But my good fellow, what can you hope? How much would it take to put good shoes and clothes on all the ragged poor of this one city? How much to put them into comfortable houses? How much to supply their tables as yours is supplied? What folly to think of doing any such thing!
And then, too, how soon would all this expenditure of means disappear! You would scarcely be buried out of sight till the old want and squalor would come again, and repossess all the fields you had won to comfort. If the second commandment implies any such thing in practice, we must, with all the infidels, write it down impracticable.
390 THE NEW RELIGION.
B. Does the mere magnitude of the work paralyze you? Would you raise this question against your family whom you love? Would you not do what you could till you exhaust your means? Why then raise it against God's poor, whom you also love, if you are a Christian?
A. But who are one's neighbors? There is fallacy somewhere. Perhaps it is in the misunderstanding of terms.
B. In the case given by the Master the man who fell among thieves was neighbor to the good Samari- tan— a fellow-being that had come to his notice in a state of helpless suffering and need. Our neighbors are those whom we see and know, or whom, at least, we can see and know — those who, in the busi- ness of life, come within the range of our knowledge — these in preference to those beyond the range of our observation and knowledge.
You are not to love those over the mountains and across the seas whom you have never seen or know^n, and never can, as you love yourself. This were, per- haps, impossible to human nature. It is your neigh- bor whom you know, or can know and see, that you are to love as yourself, and treat accordingly. Love demands nothing impossible. Attempting too much you would accomplish nothing. You know how leaven works — the leaven that is ^^to leaven the whole lump." It works from a living germ within, out and out, till it reaches the circumference. It skips no spaces — leaps no gulfs.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 39I
Your love would not, I hope, shut its eyes against the want that stares you in the face, to open them beyond the ocean.
And then, too, helping your neighbor thus, you will soon be able to know whether your benefactions are helping or hurting — whether you are making a mis- take and helping the deviPs poor instead of God's poor.
But, in any case, large sums would indeed be needed. There are many poor. ^ About one-fourth of the world's population are paupers. And the condi- tion of some of them is distressing enough to touch the hardest heart. The following case is just this moment reported. A sewing woman in an Eastern state writes to a sister in the West:^ 'T am dying of destitution. My children are starving, husband dead, ceaseless toil takes all my strength, and that for a mere sustenance of life. It has blighted every hope of the future. O^ sister! is God dead? Has humanity left the earth? This life is too long for the misery that is in it. Why am I kept alive with my joy blotted out? Why the sinless ones doomed to this lingering death? But for them I would kill myself. * "^ Sixteen hours a day to get sufficient to keep
1. In 1880 there were largely more than a million of children in the U. S. under the age of fifteen — their ages ranging from five to fifteen — working to support themselves and families, instead of being in school. And what does such a fact signify?— See Arena for April, 'go.
2. Statesman for June, '90.
392 THE New religion.
this miserable life. I die of want. ' ' And God only knows how many of such and similar cases in this great Christian city.
But if all cannot be helped many can be, and this fact the Christian must recognize. If we suppose that 5 per cent, of the families in this city consist of widows and orphans, and are in actual need of help, and this cannot be very far from the fact, there is one man in this same city, who could build a home worth ^i,ooo for every one of these families, and settle upon it an annual income of ^450 a year, and yet have enough left to make himself and his family amply comfortable for the rest of life. Four hundred and fifty dollars a year would be all that the husband, were he living, and working as a common laborer, could earn during the year. One man then in this city could thus practically, as far as support is con- cerned, restore the husband to every such family, and put it into a comfortable home. Besides, this grand patrimony could run on and on, and bless suc- cessive generations.
Six men in this country could be named who could endow every needy family in the United States with a little home worth $1000, and place to its credit ^1000, to be put at interest or drawn upon for imperative needs.
One church in New York is worth ^150,000,000.^ I. See Fortwi, November, i88q.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 393
The Presbyterians in Chicago hold ^300,000,000 worth of property.^
There is property enough held by church communi- cants to banish cold and hunger and thirst and naked- ness from every family on earth, enough to put every sick sufferer upon a clean and comfortable bed in a comfortable home. Enough to take all children, too young to work, out of factories, and put them in schools, dressed in good clothes and with good shoes on their feet.
So you perceive that there are ample means for helping the needy and enough left for building all needed and more permanent benevolences besides, if men would but consent to disburse it.
There is destitution because the wealth of the world is not distributed. There is no scarcity, none what- ever, but the scarcity of love — the virtue of the second commandment. And the selfishness and avarice which hoards millions will infallibly curse its possessors. This is the judgment of history. It is marvelous that men do not see it. There is no surer way to damn a family than to damn it with wealth.
A. But no one has a right to live alone for one's neighbors — not even for one's country nor one's age, for that matter. The ages to come have a claim upon the present age and it is the duty of the present to bequeath something to the future. We must have institutions that will live after us. You could invest your means with hope of more permanent results.
I. Moderator's address before Pres. Gen. Assembly, 1890.
394 THE NEW RELIGION.
B. Yes, I could build a college or a church; but there would be no gilt-edged security that it would not after awhile be abandoned and pulled down, as they are at this moment pulling down the Chicago University — an institution built a few years ago by your prudent, far-seeing charity. 1 happen to know, myself, that not a few churches built by the sweat and blood of well meaning charity have been quite aban- doned. There are better things than colleges and churches in the form of piles of brick and mortar. Granite and marble are not the best contributions one age can make to another. There are ^ ^monuments more durable than brass." Bring in the reign of peace on earth and good will to men; bequeath the Christ-spirit and the Christ-life to all lands, and establish a genuine Christian socialism in the earth and the future will take care of itself. The human soul and goodness and God — -these survive.
Besides, Would you allow your children to suffer to provide for the comfort and well-being of your grandchildren? Are you so much interested in the unborn that you cannot help those poor sufferers on Water street? If you love not your brother whom you have seen, how can you so love the brother whom you have not seen and never can see?
There is enough within your reach — enough of sin and suffering to exhaust all your means, enough of crime and degradation to fill your hands and heart. If you are a Christian, 3^ou have been commissioned to help save men, following in foot-steps of the Master.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 395
The pass-port into the higher nature is through the lower nature, and the humble ministers of love as they appear in sympathy and companionship — in the divided loaf and cup of cold water, will climb into the higher nature more quickly and awake its best powers more certainly, than all the ex-cathedra deliverances of pope and priest-hood.
Jesus evidently thought so, since he did not seek to ground his cause in chartered institutions or enshrine it in marble. He, as no other reformer ever did, had faith and hope in the power of a good example as the light of the world — as the power that should win men and cause them to glorify the Father in heaven.
At any rate, of one thing I am certain. While I know I have been spending my means, as you think indis- creetly— frittering them away upon short-lived chari- ties, yet I have not, in my way, served God for nought. I have seen not a few lifted out of squalor and dire need. I have seen them made glad and grateful. I have seen them taking on new strength, and starting forward again on life's journey with renewed reso- lution and hope. In placing one unfortunate father upon his feet, you sometimes save a whole family to virtue. In waking a poor mother's love and grati- tude you kindle the fires of love in a whole family of sympathetic children, and possibly the magic touches of your unselfish love will unlock forces that will avail to redeem a whole community, and bring in a dis- pensation of peace and good will that will widen with
396 THE NEW RELIGION.
the coming years and bring multitudes of prodigals back to the Father's house. I have helped a few. I have heard them thank God for human sympathy and human help. Instinctively they were borne upward. Irresistibly they were swept into the holy of holies, and I have proved, O, how often, thank God, that it is indeed '^more blessed to give than to receive.'* I have been feeding on the manna of heaven. I have been drinking the nectar of the gods.
I have no large fortune left; but my heart and my hand are still open, and the blessed light that sheds its radiance upon my daily life is already throwing its beams across the borders, and I am content.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
The Ministry of Love.
A newsboy took the Sixth Avenue elevated car at Park Place at noon on Thanksgiving day, and, slid- ing into one of the cross seats, fell asleep. At Grand street two young women got on and took seats oppo- site the lad. His feet were bare, and his hat had fallen off. Presently the young girl leaned over and placed her muff under the little fellow's head. An old gentleman in the next seat smiled at the act, and without saying anything held out a quarter with a nod toward the boy. The girl hesitated for a moment and then reached for it. The next man just as silently offered a dime, a woman across the aisle held out some pennies, and before she knew it the girl, with flaming cheeks, had collected money from every passenger in that end of the car. She quickly slid the amount into the sleeping boy's pocket, removed the muff from under his head without arous- ing him, and got off at Twenty-third street, including all the passengers in a pretty little inclination of the head that seemed full of thanks and a common secret.^ Love begets love. Goodness is catching. Love and
I, Union Sig., Jan., '89.
398 THE NEW RELIGION.
goodness put a charm upon men from which they cannot escape.
We have already had occasion to note the passion of love as a human sensibility and to consider it as concreted in the life of Jesus. In conclusion we note it as the Spirit of God, and powerful to save from sin.
Love has been the theme of the poet in all ages, and literature abounds with beautiful illustrations of its power to sway the will and reform the life.
Love is a passion native to the human soul. He is most depraved who can most habitually and effectually resist its power. It is interesting to notice its out- cropping in all the walks of life. Cyrus, having entered Armenia and taken the king and all his family captive, ordered them before him. ^^Arminius/' said he, ^^go, you are free, for you are sensible of your error; and what will you give me if I restore your wife to you?" ^^All that I am able." ^^And what if I restore your children?" ^^All that I am able." ^^And you, Tigranes," turning to the son, ^'what will you do to save your wife from servitude?" '^I would lay down my own life," said the love-bound Tigranes. *^Let each have his own again," said Cyrus, and departed.
Then one spoke of his clemency, another of his valor, another of his beauty and grace of person. **Do you think him handsome?" said Tigranes to his young wife. ^^Really," said she, ^T did not look at him." ^^At whom did you look?" ^^At him who offered to lay down his life for nip,"
THE CHRIST MISSION, 399
The story of Damon and Pythias has been often told. Though somewhat legendary it is true to human nature. Pythias was condemned to death by the wanton tyrant, Dionysius. He wanted to return home and arrange matters for his family. Damon proposes to take his place, under sentence of death, and allow Pythias to return to his family with the understanding that he should make haste and return if possible before the day of execution and relieve his good friend Damon. He returns just in time to save Damon's life, and you have noticed how such love and fidelity affected the tyrant — affected him more powerfully than the great Plato could when presenting to him his ideal ^'Republic." *^My good fellows, you are both free.'' The cold iron of his nature yielded as it had never done before — *^You are both free. I should like to be a sharer with you in that love which makes such generous conduct possible."
The same strain of nobilit}^ ran in the blood of the men that made Rome master of the world.
Regulus being defeated and taken prisoner by the Carthagenians, was deputed to the Roman Senate as the one man who could most influence that body. *'Go," said Carthage, ^^and secure the terms we pro- pose and you are free. But fail and you perish as the greatest enemy of the Carthagenians." Regulus went on parole to Rome, and, entering the Senate, he insisted that the terms were dishonorable to his coun- try and prevented their acceptance. Bound by his
400 THE NEW RELIGION.
honor he returns to Carthage to be put to death as he knew he would be, with horrible torture. Most noble Regulus, what charm was upon thee! What the secret of such nobility! Whence such inflexible devo- tion to the ideal right! The world delights to honor ^hee! Love is the mother ot heroism.
Let the fire fiend sweep over Chicago, or the angry flood overwhelm and destroy Johnstown, or the earthquake bury Charleston, or the plague smite the Southland, and what do we see! We say God was in the proffered bounty because love was in it.
An humble, obscure peasant woman of my intimate acquaintance goes down into a protracted struggle with the powers of darkness and a deep sense oi sin before God, but she emerges into a life of light and love to become a ^ ^burning and shining light. '* She marries, and though poor, she adopts successively five orphan children, graded in age, a la mode, and trains them up with a mother's tenderness and solicitude in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Not by might nor by power, but by my spirit — the divine passion. Such are the possibilities of ordinary human nature under the reign of love. No other passion can be enlisted for purposes so holy; none so strong to achieve the ransom of the soul from sin and bear it away into all helpfulness.
A young woman in Scotland left her home and ^^went to the bad." Her mother sought her far and wide in vain. Chancing one day to see her mother's picture, she sank down overwhelmed with a sense of
THE CHRIST MISSION. 4OI
sin. She was the prodigal daughter. The memory of her mother's love swept over her, and, like her older brother, she came to herself and resolved to abandon her sinful life and return to her mother — for she knew that she would forgive her. She was saved — by my Spirit, saith the Lord.
The most orthodox Nicenist will concede that the intermediary suffering and sacrifice of the ^^Lamb of God" are available only on certain conditions. A man becomes a Christian by accepting Christ as his savior only, when the needful moral influences have reached him; and this is true whatever view of the atonement is adopted.
Let us not doubt the potency of the cross to appeal to the heart and to stir the soul to its depths. Christ and him crucified was the theme of Paul's preaching throughout his great mission, as it must be that of every successful preacher of the Christian gospel. But Paul wrote the 13th chapter of ist Corinth- ians, *^If I have not charity I am as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. A certain subjective moral con- dition is imperatively necessary to true happiness, whatever may be the involved conditions or the environment. It is not the sacrifice and death of the Lord Jesus Christ as such — but the engendered love — the love which such an exhibition of personal sym- pathy awakens in the soul, that saves men. During his life he appealed to the hearts of men, not so much by parading the fact that he was to be offered up as a
402 THE NEW RELIGION.
sacrifice to appease offended justice, as he did by other means.
The fact is, it may be fairly questioned whether he ever alluded to such a denouement of his commission. The passages claimed and relied upon for setting up this view are ominously few in number and withal admit of a very different and more rational interpre- tation; nor does such interpretation detract from or weaken the power of his life to stir the soul to its depths and awaken the better nature.
That the Heavenly Father must be propitiated; that the Lord Jesus must be offered up as bulls and goats are offered, and that blood can wash away sin, are gross conceptions that have come down to us from Paganism and old Judaism, and are becoming more and more repulsive to Christian thought. Nothing can be clearer from the evangelistic point of view than that love dominated the Heavenly Father in sending the only begotten Son, that love dominated the Son in the fulfillment of his mission, and that love must come to dominate the alien child and bring him back, prodigal-like, to the Heavenly Father, if he is to be saved.
If his salvation is made to turn upon any specific objective means or conditions, it is inevitably certain, such is human nature, that he will soon come to trust too much to such means, and fall away into a formal and dead or half dead externalism. This tendenc}^ and this result is palpably evident in the worship of the cld Roman and Greek churches, and traces of it may
THE CHRIST MISSION. 403
be found even among the best forms of Protestant orthodox}^ In the literature and hymnology of the churches the ^^cross," and the ^ ^cleansing blood" are constantly paraded as the Christian's hope, and sine qua non. % % %
"Then if thou bid'st me pray or go
Unto the prison, I'U say no; Christ having paid, I nothing owe;
For this is sure, the debt is dead By law, the bond is cancelled."
-Robert Herrick.
'It is the old cross still,
On which the living one Did for man's sins atone.
Old cross, on thee I lean.
Old and yet ever new I glory still in you.
Hallelujah! It shall stand forever."
— Bonar.
Poetic symbolism you say. Yes, but a symbolism which among the ignorant masses of the Greek and Roman churches has already prostituted Christian worship to the verge of fetichism.
A consistent example, radiant with the graces which love engenders, is precisely what is most needed every- where in this alienated and misguided world. Few men will resist or care to resist the overtures of love. To capture men and bind them to you with cords of
404 THE NFAV RELIGION.
steel you must banish selfishness and make such common cause with them as love requires.
The power of a pure love to sway the heart and rule the life is well known — nothing is better certified to our knowledge. It is the great factor of goodness; and goodness is the only hope. But goodness implies consent, reciprocity. God does not appear in human consciousness as a factor of personal goodness. He does not compel us to be good. Indeed, we know that we could not be compelled by any might or power to be good. Love comes and captures con- sent, cuts away selfishness, sweetens life, brings in peace and good-will — develops goodness.
Love as manifested in the Heavenly Father, as seen in the blessed Lord Jesus Christ, as revealed in in the lives of the pure and good whose lives are the light of the world, this is the inspiration and the source of all goodness.
"Love strong as death — nay stronger, Love mightier than the grave,
Broad as the earth and longer Than ocean's widest wave:
This is the love that sought us.
This is the love that bought us,
This is the love that brought us To gladdest day from night, From deepest shame to glory bright, From depths of death to life's fair height. From darkness to the joy of light."
— Bonar,
CHAPTER XXXVIL
The Ministry of the Spirit.
The universe has proceeded from a power which is not only an enduring power that makes for right- eousness, as Mathew Arnold has said, but a power which, with equal certainty, makes for paternal love and providence.
If this postulate could not be maintained from nature, it is, at least, very clearly set forth by the Founder of the New Religion.
Starting with this conception of the Divine Being, the most skeptical could hardly doubt that intercom- munication between the All Father and his children must in some way be not only possible, but frequent and easy; and this precisely is what Jesus assumed to be true.
This thought of the Father's vigilant care over all his creatures pervades the teaching of the Founder of the Christian system. But how is this care mani- fested— how for the birds and for men? Not wholly by visible agencies, not in such a way as to dispense with the individual's activity, or to interfere with his autonom}^ He has made both birds and men with such adaptations to their environment, and endowed them with such capacities and instincts that, while
4o6 THE NEW RELIGION.
they remain obedient to the laws of their being, they will infallibly be fed and clothed. The divine provi- dence and sympathy extend to every form of life, and the law that governs all, it seems more and more plain, is characteristically the law of love.
The part which we play in the drama of life is com- paratively small, and mostly visible, but the part played for us, though invisible, is great, and instantly and imperatively needful.
Do you say we sow and reap, and supply our wants? Yes — but whence come the germ and the fostering influences out of which come the grain and the bread? Whence come tlie thousand beautiful adaptations of light and warmth and air and moisture which develop the germ — whence the appetite and taste that select and measure our food to us — whence the digestive fluids, the blood currents and heart- beats and oxygen that instantly sustain the manifold processes of nutrition? Who, sleeping or waking, runs the complex machinery of your life? Surrender- ing, as we so habitually do, to mere sense, we fail to apprehend the immanence and the reality of spirit existence and spirit power.
All power is predicable, not of matter, which can neither move itself, nor stop itself when moved, but of spirit. And the fact brought out by the Son of Man, and the fact never to be forgotten, is, that this all-power spirit makes for paternal care and provi- dence, and is, or at least seeks to be, in constant rapport with the spirit of man. We hardly realize
THE CHRIST MISSION. 407
how closely we stand to great physical and spiritual forces — physical and spiritual, if such a distinction may yet be made. Our senses are so ^ ^cabined and cribbed," so dull and feeble, that our own world is really very small. We see wonders in suggestive outcrops, but only in outcrops.
We strike the chords of some crude, heavy-going musical instrument — this has been our only privi- lege. We may, if we have an appreciative ear, detect intimations of fine melodies — hints of musical power and realization. The Cleremont of Fulton was a hint of the Great Eastern, and her five miles an hour a foregleam of a trip across the Atlantic in five days. Franklin's kite, evincing the most brilliant conception of that age, was a prophecy of annihilated space, and the construction of a whispering gallery 25,000 miles in circumference. Morse and Edison and others helping us, we have taken a long step into the hith- erto unseen, and the rifts in our material encasing have allowed us to catch other gleams that glint and flash from the realms of light. What in the way of spirit manifestation and revelation of power awaits the next step, and the next, and the next?
We can see farther now and hear better. The improvement has been along the line of sense-per- ception, and immediately related to our higher nature. In the sphere of mere animal life we have hardly improved upon our ancestors of long ago. But in the domain of art, of science, of morals and religion we have improved.
4o8 THE NEW RELIGION.
^*The whole movement of history," says Rev. Joseph Parker, ^*in all that is vital and permanent, is a movement from the outward visible to the inward spiritual." I would put it differently. I would pre- fer to say, the movement is from within. Matter, organic and inorganic, is the mother condition of germinal life, and the processes of life are develop- mental— expansive — from within outward. But of the moveme7it^ there can be no doubt. Mr. Parker continues: ^'From the minuteness of microscopic by-laws, men have passed to a spiritual sense of moral distinctions. The great tables of b3^-laws have been taken down, because the spirit of order, of truth, has been given. What is true of law is equally true of institutionalism; its progress is from a crude outline toward completeness of purpose and critical accuracy of statement.''^
The thought of Mr. Parker will bear expansion. In the earlier stages of religious development the dependence upon material symbols is all but absolute.
There have been, and there must have been, in all lands, offered sacrifices and burnt incense, altars and officiating priests, to give expression to instinctive religious wants, and the religious sense, because of a conscious dependence upon externalities in the wor- ship of God. Our knowledge of the Jewish people, their religion and worship, is more full and accurate than that of any other people, and may be considered
I. Apostolic Life,
THE CHRIST MISSION. 409
representative. Thirty-four centuries ago Moses, versed in all the learning of the Egyptians — then the most highly cultivated people of the world, was delivering the law from Mt. Sinai, and organizing an elaborate system of worship. It was thoroughly external — ritual- istic. It consisted of sacrifices and ceremony. It required altars and incense and officiating priests — hecatombs of slaughtered victims. A visible angel of the Lord went before them to show them the way. All of which was provisional, educational, mediatorial, and designed to help them toward the spiritual, whether Moses so understood it or not.
Five hundred years later the question was raised, ''Hath the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord. Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken better than the fat of rams.'' i Sam. 15: 22. The thought of the old seer was a brilliant one, and opened up a new world.
During the next one hundred years a great advance was made, and we hear the Psalmist, as God's mes- senger, crying out to his people, ''Hear O Israel, I will tak6 no bullock out of the house, nor he goat out ot thy field, for every beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a thousand hills. I know all the fowls ot the mountains, and the wild beasts of the fields are mine. Will I eat the flesh of bulls or drink the blood o' goacs? Ojftr ttnto God thanksgiving and pay thy vows unto the Most High." Psa. 50: 7-14. A more
4IO THE NEW RELIGION.
spiritual worship is dawning upon the masters of thought in that early age.
Three hundred years later, the question is raised, — '^Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before the High God? Shall I come before him with burnt-offering — with calves of a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give my first born for my transgression — the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He hath showed thee, O man, what is good, — and what doth the Lord require of thee but to do justly and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.'' Micah 6: 6. A great move forward certainly from Mt. Sinai.
Amid the vast reverses that befell that highly favored, but unfortunate, people, the movement seems to have been somewhat retarded and the advance- ment toward a true conception of God and his wor- ship is less pronounced, but there was progress nevertheless.
The religion of Micah had gone to the other extreme. It had become mere morality. The ideal divine government or kingdom of heaven had not come to light. Worship by means of slaughtered victims and shed blood was felt more and more to be deficient and imperfect, and Micah could see nothing in it. But there remained a conscious want of har- mony between the sinful soul and the ^^Moral Order.''
Six hundred years later the cry was heard in the Judean deserts — the voice of one crying in the wilder-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 4II
ness ^^make straight the way of the Lord" — a voice which with impassioned fervor called men to repent- ance as a preparation for the kingdom of heaven.
A long stride has been made during these 1500 years from Mount Sinai to the banks of the Jordan. The passage from the external to the internal has been effected, and a new era in religion dawns. The light already gilds the tops of the mountains.
The Samaritan woman at the well of Jacob, repre- senting the average worshiper, raises this question — the last in the category of materialism — (9?/r fathers worshiped in this mountain, but the Jews say that in Jerusalem is the place to worship — where is the place to worship? '^The fulness of the times had come" for the announcement of a pure spiritual worship — for independence of the soul upon shrine and symbol. The goal is reached. ^ ''Woman, believe me,'' said the Son of God; ^*the time cometh, and now is, when neither in this mountain nor in Jerusalem shall ye worship the Father. The true worshiper, worships in spirit and in truth. God is a spirit, and they that worship him must worship in spirit and in truth." Jno. 4: 21-24.
There is wide complaint among the churches, especially in the older communities, that the public worship of God is neglected. And as a matter of fact there are very man}^ who care little for the ritual and ceremony of public worship. Several factors no doubt unite in producing this result. But, it can hardly be doubted; that many have ceased to feel the
412 THE NEW RELIGION.
need of such external appliances to aid them in the worship of God. They are approaching a degree of intelligence and spirituality which enables them to apprehend God as a spirit, to be worshiped as such, in spirit and in truth.
With advancing life, if one use and cultivate his powers properly, the spiritual becomes more and more immanent and realistic. Any proper use and cultiva- tion of one's powers must, of course, include his moral nature. Mr. Fisher and the authors of the Unseen Universe have convinced us, that what we see of the physical universe, is little more than an infini- tesimal part of it.^ But what we care just now to study is, not the boundless extension of the physical, — its latitude and longitude, — but the immanence of the spiritual, in its relation to human possibilities.
Within this field of inquiry there cannot be a doubt that Jesus, the Christ and Son of God, is the world's greatest teacher. If indeed he be the Son of God, as represented by his biographers, this were an a priori expectation. No one could doubt his capabilities as a teacher of things unknown to ordinary men, and, as a matter of fact, few, I think, will question the value of his contributions to our knowledge of spirit and spirit existence.
The movement from the material to the spiritual noticed by Mr. Parker, is due more to him than to all philosophers and scholars besides. If true, and we
J. See Atlantic Monthly^ 1889.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 413
have no good reason for questioning the historical fact, those were strange and significant rifts in the over- arching material — that voice from heaven — that scene on the mount of transfiguration, the touch of healing, the resurrection, the ascension. Nothing like them in the world's history — flashes from the world of light streaming away across the bosom of night, into the dark and distant horizon. '
^^I have many things to say to you," he said to his disciples, ^ 'but ye cannot bear them now.'' He was constantly making revelations to his disciples which on account of their gross preconceptions — their ina- bility to rise out of the organic material, they did not and could not grasp, but, going beyond all these, he could scarcely restrain himself from other revelations, yet more difficult to comprehend and wonderful. ^'I have many things to say," but ^'ye cannot bear them now." ^'Howbeit when the spirit of truth is come he shall guide you into all truth." Jno. 16:12.
Blessed spirit of truth, come. Thou art our great hope. Come and guide us into all truth!
To educate men and thus lift them into higher spheres of life and light, is a slow and difficult work. The pillar of cloud and fire stood over the altar for hundreds of years, before even the favorite children of God, and this, too, under the inspired teaching of seer and prophet, could get away from visible symbols and worship God with any intelligence. What heca- tombs of slaughtered victims — ' 'firstlings of the flock" ^— did it require to make the people realise that ''God
414 THE NEW RELIGION.
is of purer eyes than to look upon sin," and how did the Son of God labor and wait to impart a true con- ception of his purpose and mission to the world?
But as the movement from the material to the spir- itual was forward from Moses to Micah, and from Micah to John, under this teacher ^'come from God" it has been forward from John to the present da}^ Grant, if you please, the movement has not been steadily forward. Christianity suffered so much in its conflict with paganism — came so near being utterly absorbed by it, that the pillar of cloud and fire again stood still for a thousand years. But thank God, the day dawned on this long, dark night, the spirit of truth guiding into truth — and the Renaissance opened the world to freer thinking. Christ with his blessed gospel came to the rescue, and we find ourselves at an immense remove from the Baptist preacher in Judea — *^He that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he." Much that was difficult at the dawn of Christianity is easy now. The impossible then, has been achieved. With faith as a grain of mustard seed, the sycamine tree has been plucked up — the mountain removed into the sea, and we have almost ceased saying with Nicodemus, ^^how can these things be?"
The Son of Man sought to open up a vast realm hitherto unknown to seer or prophet. The teaching of the sermon on the mount assumes that there is such a realm. There is a kingdom in which the poor in spirit, and those who mourn, and those who hunger
THE CHRIST MISSION. 4x5
and thirst after righteousness, and the merciful, and the pure in heart are blessed. It is a kingdom that Cometh not with observation. How he sought to im- part a true conception of this kingdom! To this kingdom how he sought instantly and anxiously to bear away the thought and the hope of the world! In his own experience the mere physical and sensu- ous sink more and more out of sight. The spiritual becomes more and more immanent and obvious. On the low ground of the visible, death ends all; but upon the high ground upon which he stood, and upon which he would have the world stand, death does not end all. In his thought death is little more than an incident, soon to become a mere reminiscence — a half- forgotten memory. ^^Touch me not," said he to Mary, after the resurrection. ^'I am quitting this sensuous state of being; touch me not, I ascend to my Father." The pulses of his life were already beating across the chasm. Unseen realities already outweigh all that is visible. This was his assumption from the first; and to this height he would lift men.
Shall we say that the scene on the mount of trans- figuration was a revelation of the personnel of the future state of being, seen in Moses and Elias, one now dead 1500 and the other 800 years?
Shall we say that the resurrection of Jesus demon- strates the fact, so earnestly sought for through the ages, that ^^If a man die he shall \\w^ again." Why not?
Shall we say tha,t the resurrected Son of Man
4l6 • THE NEW RELIGION.
lingered for forty days as one treading the outmost limits of the visible, ready to pass out of these time and sense relations, and, both by his manner of life and by his teaching, sought in ways wonderful, but adapted to their purpose, to lift the human soul out of and above its mere sensuous experience, and to take it with him into the inexplicate realities upon which he is entering in advance? Did he thus seek to span the chasm between man and his maker. Is he the ladder which Jacob in the olden time saw in his vision rest- ing upon the earth and reaching to heaven — the angels passing and repassing?
Shall we regard his ascension as the complement of his ministry and mediatorial mission as the world's Savior, in reference to which he said, ^^And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me?''
If we should answer all these questions in the affirmative we should probably not be far from the truth.
But if these things be so what is the extent and fullness of these spirit manifestations as compared with all that the world had ever known or imagined? Whatever else may be true it cannot be doubted that this wonderful Son of Man, though confessedly but imperfectly understood even yet, is the world's great teacher in regard to matters spiritual.
Having prepared his disciples as best he could for the coming of a larger spirituallife, he makes known to them the fact that a fuller and more direct manifestation of the spirit i? at hand. Behold, I gend the promi§^
THE CHRIST MISSION, 417
of the Father upon you — even the spirit which pro- ceedeth from the Father — Tarry ye in Jerusalem until endued with power from on high.
And now he breaks to them the sad intelligence that, in order to do this, he must depart out of this world — intelligence which filled them with sorrow. ^^If I go not away the Spirit — ho Parakletos — will not come.'* You so habitually lean upon the visible — - upon sense, it will be impossible for you to realize your capacities as spirits independent of the material organism while I remain among you. But, if I go away, I will send him unto you. Then, on thinking of me you will be able to realize that, though unseen, I am present with you, and you shall be able to live over again and perpetuate in larger development the experience we have had together, and our intercourse thenceforth will be more constant and intimate and less embarrassed than it could be if I were to remain in the flesh with you. In the body gravity interferes — locomotion is hindered. You must scatter abroad. In the body it would be difficult — impossible for me to follow you and be with you. In the body we step forward only on and on. In the spirit we can return to the past — to the sermon on the mount — to Bethany and Jerusalem — to the mount of transfiguration — to Gethsemane and the Cross, and so, returning with me in spirit, you will listen again to my words, and you will get their meaning as you never got it before — you will come to understand my mission and work whigh you did not, ' at the time, half understand, and
41 8 THE NEW RELIGION.
you will begin to realize, as you can never otherwise do, what the Kingdom of Heaven really is. '^I tell you the truth, it is expedient that I go away." In this way only can the necessary progress in this move- ment toward the spiritual be accomplished.
Withdrawing from their sight and hearing he took away their dependence upon his visible presence and threw them upon their memories and meditations. He turned them from the outward to the inward — from the material to the spiritual. The evidence which completed the demonstration of his Messiah- ship and the truth of what he had taught had now been furnished — furnished in his arrest and trial, his condemnation, his crucifixion, his resurrection, all of which he had foretold. In the light of this evidence the past is to be re-read.
Some of us yet lean heavily upon the visible and sensuous. We want a visible Christ. We think if he were but present as he was to the apostles, how easy it would be to understand, to accept and follow him; and we can hardly see why the benevolent Father did not give to every age its visible Christ and to our own as well.
But as it was expedient that he then should with- draw himself from sight, it is expedient still that he remain unseen. The tendency to localize and enshrine the object of worship is yet very strong, even among Christians. It is seen most among the more ignorant and less developed classes. You see it in the Roman |nd Greek churches. If a little critical you will detect
THE CHRIST MISSION. 4ig
it also in Protestant churches, especially in the dedicatory services of churches and temples. It is expedient for j^'^^ that I go away.
When the Holy Spirit — to pneuma agion — has come he shall glorify me, for he shall receive of mine and shall show them unto you. Jno. i6: 14.
The relations which the Holy Spirit that proceedeth from the Father sustains to the Messiah are close and intimate. The circumstances changed, the minds of men better prepared, the development more complete, the divine spirit will reproduce and emphasize the teachings and the life of the Son of God and make them more real — more powerful to save.
Besides, much of this teaching was but a planting in the soil of humanity. After all, the disciples had only caught hints and glints of the truth. The oak was yet in the acorn — its potencies not half compre- hended. As the acorn needs the fostering light, germinal truth also needs the fostering light of the spirit that proceedeth from the Father. ^^He shall take the things of mine and show them unto you and shall bring all things to remembrance whatsoever I have said." As the truth opens up to you more and more under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, this doctrine — my former teaching — and that revelation will come trooping back into memory and stand forth in living light.
When the Comforter — no Pa7'akletos\ the Holy Spirit — to pneuma agion\ whom the Father will send in my name, is come, he will reprove or convict the
420 THE NEW RELIGION.
world — elexi ton kosmon\ of sin — peri amartias, and of righteousness — pert dikaiosunes^^xidi of judgment — peri kriseos. Jno. i6: 7, 8.
How shall he do this?
In the process of time, in the light of accumulating truth the hearts of men will be touched by the Spirit of truth, not all at once, nor as to all men in the present age, but in the ages to come, and they will be convinced of the truth of my pretensions. Poster- ity will reverse the judgment of the Sanhedrim. The Holy Spirit of truth will lay the sin upon those who condemned me. It will vindicate my character, and the Tightness of my cause; it will vindicate me as the Son of God sent on a special mission to the world, which now, to seeming, is ended because I go to the Father. And this vindication made, the prince of this world stands condemned. All that hinder the truth and the right must share in the condemnation which awaits iniquity and sin. When the Holy Spirit, which proceedeth from the Father, is come, he will convict the world of sin, of righteousness and of judgment.
We have noticed in former pages how men, under the influence of inordinate passion, have fallen into error. The Son of God here lifts the veil and makes known to them how they may avoid error and be led into truth. The spirit of truth and candor must come and possess them. They must covet it as God's best gift. They must with earnest prayer and yearn- ing put themselves in rapport with it. The differ-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 42I
ence between truth and error will become more evi- dent. The truth will become more precious. It will appear where it had never been seen before. It will be found in all religions — in all philosophies. If the Holy Spirit shall so reveal the divine presence as to subordinate disturbing passions and thus clear the sky of reason, it will save from error — it will help the discovery of truth.
When the spirit of truth — to Pneuma Aletheias — is to come he will guide you into all truth and show you things to come. Jno. i6; 13.
There are things to come which we very much want to know, but which we cannot find out with all the picks and hammers of our speculative thinking. What mean mesmeric and clairvoyant phenomena? What various healing phenomena, conditioned, shall we say, on certain mental states? What the teaching of that hour of prayer in solitude, when the soul, seeking to strip itself of things earthly, essays to climb up to heaven? What the significance of thwarted purposes and well-meant endeavors? What the meaning of life cut down in youth and prime, of the wide inequality of human conditions, of gross and sickening wrongs and injustice seemingly unpunished? What the meaning of the sobs and heart-breaks at the grave of our dead, of blighted hopes and wide-spread suffering? — We know but in part. Sorrow breaks upon joy and joy upon sorrow — the night and the day of the soul — this play and counter play, what of it? Spirit-ward there are things to come.
422 THE NEW RELIGION.
At Pentecost they, for the first time, found it possi ble to comprehend in any clear light the scheme of human redemption — to realize the great salvation. When the spirit of truth had come, the beautiful life they had witnessed in the Son of Man, his death and passion, his dying prayer, his resurrection and forty days of sojourn among them, during which it seemed he would almost lift them bodily into the spirit world, and finally his ascension, conspire — tout ensem- ble— to sweep them outward into broader fields and higher life — into his own kingdom, which is not of this world. — They began to see ^ ^things to come."
The Christian is favored with peculiar manifesta- tions of spirit influence. He has come into recipro- cal relations with the beloved Son and with the Father, and within these relations he becomes the subject of other experiences — other charisms.
Once appetitive indulgence, money, power, fame, display — these filled the horoscope, these charmed and swayed the life. But the shadow of death hung over them. In his new relation to the Father, love, gratitude, truth, right, mercy, sympathy, the ideal perfections of an ideal Savior — these make up the enchanting camera-lucida. Appetitive indulgence and fleeting pleasures -are subordinate — thought is wont to range above them. These eternal verities are his, and no shadow of death hangs over them.
But what of those who have not been favored with the special teaching of the Messiah?
It is very plain from our point of view that they
THE CHRIST MISSION. 423
have suffered loss. The spirit which proceedeth from the Father could not bring to their remembrance things they had never heard or known, or teach them what they were not prepared to learn.
But many good things had been done, many noble precepts formulated, many life-inspiring and life-sav- ing things had been said and done by the Old Masters of thought — the Messiahs of pagan and heathen lands. Their love for humanity, the sacrifices they made, the truth they discovered, the blessings they conferred, must not be lost upon the world. They shall not be. The Hol}^ Spirit will reproduce them for the ages, write them in the memories and burn them into the hearts of the successive generations. They shall be conserved and shall conspire to aid in the uplift and salvation of the world. Thou blessed Holy Spirit, thou Light of the World, show all peoples the things that have been and ^'things to come/^
Finis.
INDEX.
Analysis, Psychological, needed 17
Appetite, Uses of 37
Asceticism 148
Asceticism, a form of selfishness 156
Avarice 43
Birth, The new = 317
Character, Transformation of rapid 317
Christ, The Q.ij et seq.
Christ, The, A revelation ; 266
Christ Character, The 203
Christ Teaching, The, difficulty of understanding. 275
Christian Canon, The , 212
Christian, The, a Supplementary Christ 358
Christ Mission, The, outlined 259
Christ Mission, The, set forth by the Evangelists. 259 Christ Mission, The, as understood by himself.. 261
Christianity, Contents of 210
Christianity, As understood by J. S. Mill 352
'^Conversion," Cases of 215
''Conversion," Peter 318
"Conversion," Paul 320
"Conversion," Justyn Martyr 323
426 INDEX.
^'Conversion/' Jerry McAuley 326
'Conversion," Others 333
Creeds, not changed by the Reformation 215
Depravity, Different views of 11
Depravity, Ethical difficulties, as stated by Dr.
Wardlaw 13
Depravity, Ethical desiderata. 15
Design, as seen in nature 19
Dialogue, on the duties and the privileges of the
Christian 378
Doctrine, The, Ministry of 275
Education, More Greek than Christian 65
Education, Course of study 67
Error of Old Religions 168
Evil, General considerations i
' Evil, Compensations 4
Evil, Exaggerated 2
Evil for evil 277
Faith, a belief 340
Faith, a trust 345
God, Service of 381
Gospel, Powerless, why 385
Heathens and the Holy Spirit 422
Individual, The, in Christianity 364
Inspiration, Plenary 191
Intellect, The 57
Intellect, The, Infirmity of 57
Intention, not the rule of judgment 361
Jesus, Evangelistic account of 217
Jesus, Biographers of 205
INDEX. 427
Jesus, Genesis of miraculous 186
Jesus, Sui Generis , 234
Jesus an Exemplar 235
Jesus a Philanthropist 246
Jesus as a Philanthropist, compared with Moses. 252
Jesus, Compared with Sakya Mouni 255
Jesus, Compared with Socrates 249
Jesus as a Teacher 239
Jesus, His reliance upon example 354
Judgment, The last 376
Knowledge, Virtue of 120
Life immortal, The 109
Longevity 27
LovCj The chief affection 80
Love, Christian, levels things 387
Love, Sexual, uses of 49
Love, Sexual, abuses of 54
Love, Sexual, has relation only to present state
of being 55
Man, The ideal and the real 7
Man, of two natures 23
Men, different orders of 187
Ministry of doctrine, The, Peace 311
Ministry of doctrine, The, Prayer 301
Ministry of doctrine. The, Regeneration 295
Ministry of doctrine. The, Repentance 285
Ministry of Love, The 397
Miracles 185, 193
Miracles, Hume's argument 185
l^orals, Egyptiaii cQ4e ^ ,.,.,,,,, ^ ,,..,,,,,,. , 12^
428 INDEX.
Morals, The Brahmin code 127
Morals, The Buddhist code 128
Morals, other codes 130
Nature, The lower 27
Nature, The lower, how improved 32
Organization, a ^^craze" 372
Organization in religion 364
Organization, danger of 371
Optimism 5
Parker, Rev. J 408
Peace and good will 311
Plato and Paul 202
Prayer 301
Property, desire for 41
Property, uses of 42
Property, a competency 43
Property, passion for gratified in the present life . . 44
Punishment, not reformatory 166
Purpose of the Creator must be followed. ...... 19
Quid credendum 340 to 345
Quid fidendum 345 to 351
Regeneration, nature and extent of 295
Regeneration, law of 291
Regeneration, necessity of 294
Religions, The Old, their merits considered 117
Religions, supernatural 181
Religion, The New 203
Religion among pagans and heathens 135
Religion, Aryan 140
Religion, Egyptian , , , , ,,..,,.,.,., 137
INDEX.
429
Religion, Persian , 140
Religion, progress of 408
Repentance 285
Repentance, stoicism in regard to 289
Sensibilities, prevalence of 74
Sensibilities, classification of 77
Socialism, Christian 387
Spirit, separate from matter loi
Study, course of 67
Supernatural, The 178
Sympathy, want of in the Old Religions 169
Sympathy, all men need 172
Taste, uses of 37
Treasure in Heaven 280
Will, The 85
Will, function of o , . . . 87
Will, freedom of , 89
Will, disorder of 97
Will, weak and strong 96
Woman, rights of 278
Works, ministry of 352
World-life, The, fulfills its destiny in the present
state of being 109
Yearning, the prophesy of gratification 112
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