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PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY
PRESENTED BY
The Estate of the
Rev. John B. V/iedinger
BV4ai 1
.Alb
ABREAST OF TH
A COURSE OF
Sernione on Social Subjects
ORGANIZED BY THE LONDON BRANCH OF THE CHRISTIAN
SOCIAL UNION, AND PREACHED IN THE CHURCH OF
ST. EDMUND^ KING AND MARTYR, LOMBARD
STREET, DURING LENT, l8g4.
OEith a ^ufaa
THE BISHOP OF DURHAM.
NEW YORK:
JAMES POTT & CO., 114 FIFTH AVENUE.
1894.
NOTE
'nr^HESE Sermons were preached, by ki7id permission of the
I Rector, Canon Benham, in the Chitrch of St. Edmimd,
King and Martyr, Lombard Street, E.C., during Lent, 1894.
The series was organised by the London Branch of the Christian
Social Union. The idea of the promoters was to bring vividly
before the minds of business nten and others that the pressing
Social Problems of the day would be the fittest object of their
thoughts, prayers, heart-searchings, and aspirations during the
solemn season of Lent; and that, as Christians, they were bound
to seek for direction in their sohUion from their Lord and
Master Jesus Christ.
For the benefit of those who may desire to know, the objects
of the Christian Social Union are printed elseiuhere.
H S. HOLLAND,
Chairman of Committee.
PREFACE.
THE course of sermons contained in this
volume was organized by the London
branch of the Christian Social Union,
but each preacher was left perfectly free to speak
according to his mind, and is alone responsible for
his own sermon.
I have not had the advantage of hearing or
reading any of the sermons, but the striking variety
of subjects and writers illustrates the wide field
which the Union occupies and the liberty which
is allowed to the members — though I beheve that
the writers are not all members of the Union —
in regard to their economic and political and theo-
logical opinions. At the same time, I cannot doubt
that whatever differences may exist in the methods
and the conclusions of the several contributors, all
ahke recognise the same motive and the same prin-
ciple and the same power of Christian action ;
the motive and the principle and the power
which are to be found in the application of the
fact of the Incarnation to the manifold problems
of life in dependence on the Holy Spirit sent in the
name of Jesus Christ.
The popular misconception of the scope and
viii PREFACE
strength of Christianity, which must be due, in
part at least, to the fault of believers, lays upon
every Christian the duty of making clear to himself
and to others what he holds the faith to be as a
social no less than an individual Gospel, the pro-
clamation not simply of the teaching of Christ, but
of Christ Himself, born, crucified, risen, ascended,
the Saviour of the world. We are bound not only
, to affirm, but to show practically by patient effort
I that the faith is co-extensive with the interests of
Mife; that it receives an intellectual expression in
order that it may be applied effectively to conduct
in the widest sense ; that behef in the Incarnation
— fulfilled in the Passion, the Resurrection, the
Ascension, the mission of the Paraclete — supplies
such an interpretation of the problems of creation
as we are capable of receiving, and the help
which we require, that we may be enabled to deal
with them.
To this end the Christian Social Union proposes
to its members three objects :
* I. To claim for the Christian law the ultimate
authority to rule social practice.
* 2. To study in common how to apply the moral
truths and principles of Christianity to the social
and economic difficulties of the present time.
* 3. To present Christ in practical life as the
living Master and King, the enemy of wrong and
selfishness, the power of righteousness and love.'
These objects define broadly the foundation, the
preparation, and the character of the active Christian
life.
PREFACE
I. The conceptions which we form of God and
man necessarily determine all we do. For Christians
these two conceptions are indissolubly combined ;
and all mankind, all the world, are transformed for
them under the influence of the fact that the Word
became flesh. For Christians the ideas of the
Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of men
are not merely magnificent aspirations, but direct^
interpretations of that central truth of history.
We have, indeed, lost in part through an un-
happy mistranslation the characteristic thought of
the love of the brethren {<f)L\ahe\(t)ia) , the feeling
of Christian for Christian founded on the confession
of one Faith ; but the thought is prominent in the
New Testament, and it is through the love of the
brethren and through this alone that we can
rise with sure conviction to the love of men
as men. Our relation to God dominates and deter-
mines all other relations. The command to render
to Caesar the things that are Caesar's is not a con-
trast to the command to render to God the things
that are God's : the special duty is an embodiment
of the universal duty. There can be no division in
life : aU life is essentially religious or irreligious.
We accept hterally as our rule of conduct, however
imperfectly we may be able to fulfil it, the two
commands : Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever
ye do, do all to the glory of God ; and Whatsoever ye
do, in word or in deed, do all in the name of the Lord
Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.
We are our message ; and in things great and small
we are called upon to seek to make God known, that
X PREFACE
is, to seek ' His glory,' and this can only be by
realizing our own fellowship in His Son, as He has
been revealed to us. All the conditions of labour
and trade and social intercourse, of civil and national
life, can be made conformable to a divine standard,
and it is our duty to strive towards this issue.
2. The task is not easy, and can never be finally
accomplished. The foundation fact of the Incarna-
tion expresses perfectly, in terms of human life, our
goal, our way, our strength ; but it is also inex-
haustible. No age and no race can master all its
lessons. It offers something new for us to discover
and to do, answering to the new conditions of the
time. The Holy Spirit sent in Christ's name — sent,
that is, to make His nature and His will better
known — still takes of that which is His and declares
it to us. We are set face to face with a living and
speaking God. We are bound, therefore, to take
account of every aspect and grouping of facts in
the light of the Faith ; and ' to study in common,'
bringing together our differences of temperament
and experience and knowledge, how to apply the Faith
to the difficulties of our own time. This * studyhig
in common ' is the central characteristic of the
Union, and includes a promise of spiritual help to
calm, systematic, scientific thought. The noble
Jewish saying, that when two friends engage to-
gether in reading the Law, the Shekinah is added
as a third, has for us a present application ; and we
may humbly trust that when two or three are
gathered together in Christ's name {eU to ovo/jlo)
to realize more perfectly in life what He is. He will
PREFACE
be in the midst of them. With what reverence*
therefore, with what patience, with what courage,
with what hope, shall we labour together, if we
realize that most holy Presence, before which the
storms of earthly passion are stilled, accepting the
discipline of delay, if delay be necessary, in order |
that all the truth may be gained. Every conclu-
sion and every design which we form will be shaped
in the spirit which England has retained from the
movements of the sixteenth century, with a solemn
sense of personal responsibility, with a passion for
truth, with a whole-hearted devotion to righteous-
ness.
3. At the same time all study will be directed to
service. We believe in the ascended and living
Christ. It is through us He works. The Vine
bears fruit through the branches. In the bold
language of early mystics. He needs us even as we
need Him. In His name we hasten His kingdom.
Yet even here we must remember that the weapons
of our warfare are spiritual ; and on great festivals,
when we meditate on the conditions of our work,*
we gladly recall that the earliest offerings which
the Lord received were earthly treasures, brought
by Gentile hands, that there is an eternal element
in things transitory, that there exists already by
Divine appointment a fellowship between the seen
and the unseen orders.
We look beyond all present attainments, but,
' Members are expected to pray for the well-being of the Union at
Holy Communion, more particularly on or about the following days :
The Feast of the Epiphany, the Feast of the Ascension, the Feast of
St. Michael and all Ax\gQh:— Objects of the Umo?i.
xii PREFACE
none the less, our faith constrains us to do what-
ever Hes within our power to overcome selfishness
and wrong. It is for Christians to form an intel-
ligent, vigorous, and just public opinion. Legisla-
tion must be prepared for before it can be wisely
carried. Legislation carried by force is not only
ineffective, but demoralizing. The best cause, no
doubt, cannot be gained without suffering. We must
through many trihdations enter into the kingdom of
God. But considerateness will avert many losses.
The right is rarely all on one side. We shall, there-
fore, seek to understand, and, if possible, to know
personally those from whom we differ ; and in con-
flicts our prayers will be such as our adversaries,
if honest and upright, might join in using. No fear
of personal consequences will induce us to dissemble
our convictions ; and no hope of a premature
advantage will induce us to dishonour them. ' It
is not,' Lord Lawrence said, in words which have
a wide application, * the doing Christian things
which creates irritation, but the doing Christian
things in an unchristian way.'
The bond which holds the Union together is not
the acceptance of a definite policy, but the accept-
ance of definite obligations resting on the one Faith.
The Union has no programme which the members
are required to maintain ; it has principles which
they are required to embody according to their
knowledge and experience with sober and self-
denying devotion, equally far from faithlessness
and from self-assertion.
In this light the limitation of the Union to Church-
PREFACE xiii
men is a pledge of breadth not less than of definite-
ness of faith ; and it would be fatal to its work if
it were to become identified with any ecclesiastical
or political party. The better order at which we
aim must correspond with the amplitude of our
inheritance; the future which we strive to shape
must be the crown of the past. Some among us
may naturally be stirred to impetuous action by
the sight of evils which come upon them with sad
surprises. During the fifty years through which I
have watched the advance of national, social and
industrial reforms, I have gained the patience of
courageous hope, which still grows stronger in the
actual stress of conflict. Let the ideal be duly
fashioned and loyally held and pursued, and little
by little it will be surely established.
B. F. DUNELM.
Lollards' Tower, Lambeth,
Alarch i<^th, 1894.
CONTENTS.
NATIONAL PKNITENCE. Rev. Canon Henry Scott
HoivIvAND ....... I
SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY. The Very
Rev. G. W. KiTCHiN, D.D., Dean of Winchester . 12
WASTKD LIVES. Rev. A. F. W. Ingram (Head of
Oxford House, Bethnal Green) . . . .22
AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER? Ven. Archdeacon
Farrar, D.D. . . . . . .28
ETHICS OF PROPERTY. Part I. Rev. R. L. Otti^ey
(Principal of Pusey House, Oxford) . . -38
ETHICS OF PROPERTY. Part II. . . . 49
COMMERCIAL MORALITY. Part I. Rev. J. Carter
(Gen. Sec. C.S.U.) 59
COMMERCIAL MORALITY. Part II. . . . 65
WAGES. Rev. Professor Cunningham . . -73
THE UNEMPLOYED. Rev. Canon Barnett (Warden
ofToynbeeHall) ...... 84
WOMEN'S WORK. Rev. E. HoSkyns (Rector of Stepney) 91
SPECULATION. Rev. W11.FRID Richmond (Author of
' Economic Morals ')...... 100
xvi CONTENTS
PAGE
SOLDIERS AND SAILORS. Rev. R. R. D01.1.ING (Head
of Winchester College Mission, Portsmouth) . .110
BETTING AND GAMBLING. Rev. J. S. Barrass . 120
MARRIAGE LAW. Rev. Canon Henry Scott
Hoi,i,AND ....... 126
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. Rev. G. W. GenT (Principal
of St. Mark's Training College, Chelsea) . . 138
VAIN OBLATIONS. Rev. T. C. Fry (Headmaster of
Berkhamsted School) . . . . -147
RECREATION. Hon. and Rev. E. LYTT1.ET0N (Head-
master of Haileybiiry) . . . . .155
THE IMPERIAL CHRIST AND HIS DEMOCRATIC
CREED. Part I. Town Probi^ems. Very Rev.
C. W. Stubbs, Dean of Ely, Author of ' Christ and
Democracy ' . • . • • • • 164
THE IMPERIAL CHRIST AND HIS DEMOCRATIC
CREED. Part II. Vii,i.age Probi^ems . . 178
COMMON SENSE IN RELIGION. Ven. Archdeacon
W11.SON . 188
SOCIAL HOPE. Rev. Prebendary EyTon (Rector of
Holy Trinity, Upper Chelsea) . . . .192
THE SOCIAL OUTLOOK. Rev. Professor H. C.
SiiuTTi^EWORTH (Rector of St. Nicholas Cole- Abbey) . 199
LOMBARD STREET IN LENT
NATIONAL PENITENCE.
BY
CANON HENRY SCOTT HOLLAND.
' Cursed is he that removeth his
neighboza' s landmark. Cursed is he
that perverteth the judgment of the
stratiger, the fatherless, and the
widow, etc. Cursed are the un-
merciful. Amen.^ — Deut. xxvii. 17.
CHRISTIANITY is often charged with depreciat-
ing the virtues of the good citizen. It has
thrown, we are told, all its emphasis on holi-
ness rather than on justice, on purity rather
than on truth. It has its home in the inner mysteries of
the spiritual life, in the unseen struggles and aspirations of
the soul ; to it the outer circumstances of the visible and
social environment are matters more or less indifferent.
And more especially will this inward tendency, we might say,
declare itself at a season of penitence such as Lent, when
the spirit of the man is sent back upon itself, to explore ;
the inner recesses of his will, and to sift and analyze f
his deep-seated motives, that he may examine himself and
confess his sin, and enter into the shadow of self-humi- \
I
2 NATIONAL PENITENCE
liation. That is what is meant by the religious season of
Lent ; that is what the main mass of devout believers in-
tend by their Lenten exercises ; and the earnest social
reformer, even if he can allow all this penitential trouble to
be spiritually valuable, cannot but ask whether it is
calculated to create or to invigorate the strongest type of the
good citizen at his work in the big world. Can the two
interests hang together ? Do the two cities correspond —
the city of man on earth that now is, and the City of God,
the Bride of the Lamb ?
Anyhow, our Prayer-Book has a very clear idea that they
do. It has, indeed, a great deal to say in Lent about sin,
and penitence, and confession, and pardon, and all the
mysteries of the soul at war with itself. It would dedicate
its Lent largely to those invisible struggles in which a spirit
wrestles all night in some black loneliness of agony, face to
face with the nameless God whom it will not let go until He
bless. Nevertheless, it deems it part and parcel of this same
spiritual process to start off at the opening of Lent with the
demands recorded in my text. Plain and straight enough,
these rough, homely words. No unearthliness about them !
We are not wafted off into any mystical world, strange and
vague and intangible and remote, hovering, faint and fair,
before our secret imaginings. No, indeed ! very near it
lies, this world of which they speak. Very obvious and
very matter-of-fact these obligations that they press home.
It is not a question that concerns some future condition of
the soul in the sacred bliss of heaven ; but what is its state
to-day? What is it doing at this hour? What will it be
about to-morrow ? The entire concern is with positive, out-
ward, undeniable facts, not with inward temper, or moods,
or emotions. It is our acts that are arraigned. And these
acts are all of them social ; they are acts done by us to or
towards our neighbour ; they are the acts of citizens living
under the close and incessant responsibilities of an organized
society.
NATIONAL PENITENCE 3
With these your Lent ought to begin. So the Prayer-
Book says. Here is the door through which to pass in
within the recesses of the Divine humiliation. If you want
to draw nearer this year to the blood-sweat of Gethsemane,
and to the bitter cross of Calvary, and at last to the holy
sanctuary of your Easter feast, then there is one inevitable
inquiry which blocks the way. It is perfectly simple, and
no one can mistake it. It is this : What sort of citizen are
you ? What kind of neighbour have you been ? Do you
rob ? Do you lie ? Do you remove your neighbour's land-
mark ? Have you perverted the judgment of the widow, or
the fatherless, or the stranger ? Have you smitten your
neighbour secretly? Have you taken reward against the
innocent ? Have you been unmerciful to the helpless ?
Have you extorted your gains from the weak and ignorant ?
Have you used craft or force to win your own ends ? Have
you ground down the poor ? Have you wrecked the bonds
of marriage or of the family for your own evil passions ?
Have you poisoned the moral atmosphere by your unclean-
ness ? Have you sinned against the brotherhood by slander
or mahce or falsehood ? If so, and if this is still your choice '
or portion, then you are under a curse — the curse of God.
You are banned and barred. No Christian Lent for you !
There is no way open into the consolations or the gifts
of religious life. The curse is on you ; your spiritual life is
blighted, your soul is in prison, your strength is sapped,
your claims and your rights before God are stripped off you ;
you are a marked man ; you may not belong to the company
of those who go up to the sanctuary of God ; you are cast
out, branded, set apart, a felon. You must purge yourself
of this charge, of this crime, if you are to enter the ranks of
the loyal citizens of the Kingdom who have passed out of
the darkness of the world into the light of the Divine society.
This is the godly discipline which you profess through the
Church your desire to restore. You must be prepared
with your deliberate ' Amen ' to join with the whole
4 NATIONAL PENITENCE
assembly in pronouncing your own curse on all such social
sin.
Ah ! but, you say, this rough plain speaking misses its
aim after all, misses it by its very rudeness. It belongs to
primitive, to barbaric days of early Judaism, when men
sinned with a strong hand and with a brutal frankness.
They went at it with a cart-rope. And in the Prophets and
Psalms, as we know, we are taken back to days when the
public conscience had no definite standard of principle that
it could enforce. A bad man was not ashamed to make his
villainy his open rule of life. He deliberately set himself to
rob, to take advantage of the weak, to pillage the widow
and the orphan, to lie with his neighbour's wife. There was
nothing to make him afraid or abashed. But now only pro-
fessed criminals act like that. What is the use of attacking
us with bare and raw challenges of this kind ? Of course,
we should not be here in Church, we should not be pre-
paring to keep the Christian Lent, if we were not ready to
lay our bann on murder and stealing and adultery and ex-
tortion. A light task this that you ask of us, to come here
to church to-day, and pronounce other people accursed.
We could do that much with an easy conscience. Where
would be the profit ? Is it not rather cheap ? Has it
nothing of the Pharisee about it, to stand up here and thank
God that we are not like those wicked publicans who lie and
cheat and rob ?
That is a very pertinent question ; and if we had nothing
in view but our own separate individual lives, it might be
difficult to recognise the bearing of the curse upon our-
selves. But, my brethren, we none of us stand alone.
Each is a member of a class, of a sect, of an interest, of a
trade, of a Church ; and nothing is more noticeable and
startling to all who are anxious over social miseries than the
discovery of the selfishness, the recklessness, the cruelty with
which a class, or a sect, or an interest, or a trade, or even a
Church, is capable of acting. We do in the mass what no
NATIONAL PENITENCE 5
one of us would consent to do on his own responsibility —
nay, what each one of us would hotly repudiate.
A COMPANY HAS NO CONSCIENCE.
Let us take it in the case of a Company or a Board. We
know how easily it all happens. The responsibility for the
action taken finds no lodgment anywhere, has no seat of
judgment, no Court of Appeal. No one knows with whom
exactly the responsibility lies. It is shifted from shoulder
to shoulder, until the last man, finding no other to whom
he can pass it on, drops it quietly off into some ditch.
And it is no one's business to note its disappearance.
There is no audit on the side of conscience, no annual
report in the company's books how it fares. Everybody
supposes that somebody else is looking out to see that
nothing is wrong ; or else they may have settled down to a
practical belief that morality is not the affair of a company,
of an industry, or of a corporation ; in the familiar and
most wicked phrase, ' A company has no conscience.' Such
societies must seek their own interests ; they cannot spend
their time in inquiring how their neighbours would be
affected by their action. They have enough on their hands
already in determining the conditions of their own success,
which is their proper business. How can a railway com-
pany or a joint stock bank have moral obligations beyond
those elementary principles of honesty without which trade
itself could not exist ? How can they be saddled with
duties to their neighbours as well as to themselves ? So we
all murmur palliative phrases to choke down the sense of dis-
comfort with which we now and again find that we ourselves
have reaped profit from some course of action which has
sweated down some miserable workers into infamous condi-
tions of toil and life ; or has made home for them unknown
and impossible through the long hours that we have
mercilessly imposed upon them ; or has given them over
6 NATIONAL PENITENCE
to heartless death under chemical poisons, through sinful
neglect of the precautions which one touch of human nature
would have made imperative ; or we have been dependent
for our dividends upon casual and disorganized labour,
which was inevitably bound to demoralize all who were
concerned in it ; or have got rents from slums which were
a sanitary disgrace and a moral degradation ; or from public-
houses which fatten on the hideous drunkenness which
their blazing gas and roaring heat fanned nightly into
fever.
Ah ! is there no room here for a plain, straight curse
upon the sins that are open, on the sins that are reckless,
on the sins that are savage ? And yet they are sins which
|we in some corporate capacity too often aid and abet. As
Jwe review the ugly work of wrong, let us seriously ask our-
selves. Is it against others only, and in no way against our
own shamefaced selves, that we to-day pronounce, ' Cursed
are they that make the blind to go out of his way, or taketh
reward to slay the innocent ? Cursed are the unmerciful,
fornicators, and adulterers, covetous persons, idolaters,
slanderers, drunkards, and extortioners. Cursed is he that
putteth his trust in man, and taketh man for his defence,
and in his heart goeth from the Lord.'
We may sin but too easily, through the irresponsibility
of companies ; or, again, we sin through becoming the tools
of a system.
COMMERCIAL SPECULATION.
We all know how heartless, how mechanical, a System
can become. Take commercial speculation. Take the
money market. The men engaged in it are honest, kindly,
and excellent. They propose to themselves nothing that
is not legitimate, according to the rules of business. Yet
the System itself that is created by their concerted efforts —
what of it ? What of its effects ? How blind, how regard-
NATIONAL PENITENCE 7
less, how inhuman may its workings be ! How far it may
carry us from all conceivable relations to moral responsi-
bilities ! As a System it is but too apt to take advantage of
others' ignorance, of others' stupidity, of others' infirmities ;
it reaps its gain by others' vanity and greed; its normal
work tends to exaggerate all fluctuations and uncertainties
and disturbances of the money market, driving them into
unnatural excess in order that the rapidity and extrava-
gance of the variations may heighten the possibility of
profits. As a System, it stamps down that which shows
some signs of weakness, however temporary and accidental
these may be, so that recovery is made impossible ; it runs
up anything that promises well into some unhealthy and
inflated pre-eminence, and then hastily deserts it, before
the terrible recoil follows which its own exertions have
made inevitable, leaving the disaster to break on the foolish
and ignorant, who had not wit enough to understand that
they were following leaders who would be found to have
withdrawn before the crisis came. My brothers, as we look
round the English money market to-day, dare we say that
there is no meaning for us in the curse on him who re-
moveth his neighbour's landmark ; on him who is un-
merciful ; on him who maketh the blfnd to go out of his
way?
And classes, interests, professions — these all can commit
gross sins from which any individual member of these would
instinctively shrink. There is a horrible momentum which
a vast profession or class may acquire — a momentum of
accumulated self-interest. Always a profession makes in
the mass for what is best for itself. It sustains an unceasing
pressure in the one direction ; it pushes its own way forward
with the blind weight of a tide. Year by year, and bit by
bit, it will go on piling up its resources ; it never loses a
step once gained, and never misses an opportunity for
secret and solid advance. It thrusts aside by sheer pres-
sure what obstructs; it beats under what is weaker than
8 NATIONAL PENITENCE
itself. It all happens by the sheer force of the situation.
No one person in the profession or class exactly intends
it ; only each will tolerate on behalf of his class what he
would never dream of doing on behalf of himself; and the
volume of united selfishness is therefore ever moving on.
And so it has come about that a great and honourable pro-
fession, such as that of the Law or of the Clergy, has, before
now, found itself, to its own surprise, convicted, by the
outraged conscience of its fellows, of injustice, harshness,
greed, ambition. So a propertied class has before now
come to build up its stability on some unhappy oppression ;
it has tolerated criminal miseries at its very doors without
seeming to see that they existed. It has acquiesced in a
condition which its own supremacy has made to seem
familiar and natural, yet which every human -hearted
member in the class would condemn with indignation if
it was his 07V7i benefit which was bought at such a price.
A class, an institution, has no eyes to see what its own
prosperity costs to others. Thus it is that those social
crimes have been committed which have been blotted out
in revolution and in blood. Thus it is that the Church of
Jesus Christ, founded in mercy and pity and loving-kindness,
knit together in the love of the brotherhood, in the unity
of the Spirit, in the bond of peace, has, as an organization,
as a national institution, yielded so often in the Past to the
impulsion of its own self-interest, and has suffered itself to
arrive at a position which has made it become the very by-
word for arrogance and merciless ambition. All this has
happened — we know it but too well ; history records it over
and over again with an iron pen graven upon rock for our
warning.
to-day's alarm bell.
And can it be that this old story should, in any
degree be repeating itself before our eyes to-day in
NATIONAL PENITENCE g
England ? There is, at least, evidence enough to make
us suspect ourselves. We all feel so innocent, so well-
intentioned, so right-minded. Why, then, this cry of sullen
hate which rises into our ears from those who suffer ? Why
should the cloud of dismay hang so heavy over England,
our fair mother-land, the home of freedom, set as a jewel
in the midst of the seas ? Why do we fear to look our
brethren in the face as the fierce war of competition clangs
on and on in ruthless disregard ; and the weak are crushed ;
and the old are forsaken ; and the bitterness of misunder-
standing sharpens our divisions ? Why is it that this Church
of ours, this Church of England, so dear to us, so rich in
her catholic inheritance, so interwoven into England's story,
so tingling with English blood ; a Church, too, so teeming
with activity, so fervent, so alive with prayer and worship —
why is it that nevertheless she should somehow appear to
the masses of English workers in country and in town,
now at the very crisis of their fate, as if she stood aloof
from their life, and was cold to their aspirations, and
suspicious of their aims, and helpless in their needs ; why
should she wear the aspect to them of something privileged
and propertied, jealous and timid, and carry with her so
little of the likeness of Christ? Surely there is wrong
here, wrong deep and large and gross, such wrong as may
fall under a curse.
We can find no such wrong in ourselves. No ; but we
are members of the society which is thus at enmity with
itself; members of a nation which is embittered by these
heart-burnings ; members of this Church which so fails to
interpret and justify to the democracy the goodness of God
the Father, the compassion and joy and strength of Christ
our King. Look away to-day over the nation at large,
and behold there the evil to which our selfishness con-
tributes, the sorrow and the hate for which we must share
the responsibility. It is our public burdens that we are
summoned to assume. That which dishonours England
10 NATIONAL PENITENCE
is our personal dishonour. That which puts Christ to
shame Hes heavy on our souls. Let to-day be a day of
national humiliation for presenting to God so disheartening
a result of Christian civilization as that on which our eyes so
sadly fall. Let us ask ourselves why we, as a nation, have
lost so much of our national peace — our national confi-
dence in the name of Jesus. Why has the curse fallen
upon us, the curse of a divided house, and of paralyzed
judgment, and of wounds that will not heal ? Into
each separate soul these questions must pierce like barbed
arrows that cannot be withdrawn. Only according to
the measure with which each soHtary conscience takes
home these things as matter of private personal concern,
will the day of remedy dawn. True, it is not all wrong,
not all black. There is earnestness in all classes, and
patience, and moral soundness, and charitable zeal. There
is a spirit of Christ-like devotion at work in the Church,
that impels thousands of men and women into lives of
mercy, that make for goodness and for peace. These are the
salt that saves society from corruption. These keep alive
the fire of sacrifice, and therefore of hope. But nothing
of this should blind us to the terrible things still left undone,
or should bribe us into murmuring ' peace ' where peace
has not yet been won. We are so tempted to let our good
works, done in private, hide from us our public wrong-doings.
And therefore it is that you and I are charged by the
Church to face these tremendous arraignments at the
opening of Lent. Therefore to-day we are each for him-
self, with trembling anxiety, to put the question to himself
alone. Can it be that I, as member of a class, of a profes-
sion, of a trade, of a society, of a Church, of a nation, have
indeed ministered in any way to this curse? Can it be
that unawares, in negligence, in culpable disregard, I have
wrung gain out of the weak, or have shifted my neighbour's
landmark ? Have I aided in perverting the judgment of
the fatherless and the widow ? Have I joined hands with
NATIONAL PENITENCE n
the unmerciful and the extortioner, and the covetous, the
drunkard, the adulterer? If I have, God be merciful to
me a sinner ; God be merciful to the nation and the Church
that sinned in me ! O Lamb of God, that taketh away the
sins of the world, have mercy upon us ! Grant us Thy
peace !
SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY.
BY THE
VERY REV. G. W. KITCHIN,
DEAN OF WINCHESTER.
' Behold, this child is set for the
falling and rising zip of 7nany iji
Israel ; and for a sign tvhich is
spoken against.' — Luke ii. 34 ( H.V.).
FROM the very dawn of Christianity, when Simeon
took our Saviour, a Httle sinless babe, in his
arms, down to to-day, throughout the whole
range of the history of Christianity, this has
been the keynote of the strife — 'Set for the falling and
rising up of many in Israel, and for a sign which is spoken
against.' There is no delusion about Christianity. It is
a common thing with those who think ill of our Faith to
tell us it is based upon a delusion. It is no such thing.
Christianity is firmly based on a Divine knowledge of the
characteristics of the human being and of human nature,
and a determination — which the Church has often forgotten,
often neglected, often turned its back on — that nothing in
human nature shall be glozed over, or put on one side, or
pretended to be good when it is bad ; but that from the be-
ginning to the end, from then till now, the same choice
between God and mammon, between God and sin, between
God and selfishness, between God and what we call the
devil, this same test, this same choice, is laid before man-
kind to take or to refuse, and woe to him who refuses the
SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY 13
right and chooses the wrong ; and God's blessing upon him
who in the critical moments of his life knows how to choose
the right and set the wrong boldly and bravely on one side.
The reason we keep Lent is not the old-fashioned reason
at all. The reason is this — we are determined to bring
before our fellow-countrymen, our brethren, those matters
with regard to the Christian faith which are too apt to be
forgotten, beginning, of course, with that most solemn
question of all. How far has Christ's Gospel, how far has
the little Babe of Bethlehem, been or not been accepted by
us ? Then the question — How far in God's providence, and
by our efforts, poor and feeble as they have been, have we
endeavoured, and has the Church through the ages en-
deavoured, to carry out the true principles of the salvation
of man by Christ ; the true principle which Jesus Christ
taught when He came into the world, God and man, in order
that He might Hft mankind to a higher level, in order that
we with Him might rise in this world to a nobler state and
to heavenly places ?
That is the rising ; and what is the falling ? The history
of the Church is constantly teaching us the reply to that
question. For the Church is continually falling — I care not
who may be staggered at such a word as that — is it not
true? Have we not here the very institution, the great
home of the life of God in Christ, this very Body of Christ
continually tending downward instead of soaring heaven-
wards ? — though, God be thanked, if we trace the story of it
through the ages, we discern that it does slowly rise, lifting
with it the heavy reluctant burden of society. Everyone
who has even for a moment meditated on the historical
problems which differentiate modern Europe, modern life,
the modern world, from the old world ; everyone who in the
light of our present day tests the whole history of Christi-
anity, is filled with an awful sense that there is something
that has gone quite wrong, that there is something in Christi-
anity which has not met the difficulties, which has not over-
14 SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY
come evils, which has not moved with the times, which has
often failed to raise mankind to a higher level.
We yearn to be sure, my friends, with all our hearts, that
here, in the Church of Christ, is hope for the present, and
hope for the future ; but above all things let me urge you,
as you care for things heavenly, not to think that things
heavenly are to be cut asunder from things earthly. For it
is true that the 'kingdom of heaven is within us '; it is not
that the kingdom of heaven is some external force acting on
us from without : it is that God's Holy Spirit has entered
into our hearts and has made a home and a blessing for us
and for all whom we can influence.
DWELLERS IN CAVES.
I am glad this morning to be called on to speak to you
about what are called the Social Warnings from History.
There are such a number of them that it is almost impos-
sible to do more than take two or three of the more salient
and more prominent of the series ; and with these I must
content myself in the short time at my disposal. I have
already spoken to you of our Saviour in Simeon's arms.
That was a social warning of the deepest kind, in that we
are called upon by the very existence of the Christian faith
to choose between good and evil ; this lies at the very
foundation of all social progress. All social progress means
in its very essence the progress of the individual. No
doubt, social progress, backed up by legislation, by public
opinion, and by those aids with which we endeavour to
strengthen what is good within us, affects in the ultimate
result the character of the individual. It is that the man
has learned, God helping him in his work, to choose the
good and to refuse the evil. It is that the man has said,
' My life, God being with me, shall be strong, and shall be
pure, and shall do no wrong to my neighbours, and shall
not take part in any of the cruelties or dark deeds of the
SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY 15
world ; but shall be spent as in the sight of God, because
God has given me of His Holy Spirit, because God has
saved me in the sacrifice of Christ.' And unless this result
is well marked and frequent, in other words, unless it
can be seen to raise and strengthen the individual man, and
unless the Christian society can boast truly that it has given
fresh life to the independence, the self-control, the instinct
of justice, of mercy, of purity, within the individual, society
will be on the downward path, and the light of the Gospel
must have suffered some dark eclipse. When Christ called
His followers 'the salt of the earth,' He told them that the
individual was more than the society ; they must always act
on each other ; that community in which the body politic
weakens or obscures the individual is in an evil plight.
Now, soon after the Church had begun to feel its feet in
the world, not very long after the death of the last of the
Apostles, there came a time — those were not good times in
the world's history, for the world was very corrupt — when
men fervent for Christ, earnest persons if ever there were
earnest persons, Christians to the back-bone, made this
tremendous mistake — I do not suppose that any of you are
likely to do the same — they thought that they could best
get to heaven by cutting themselves off from their fellow-
creatures ; they made the mistake of going out into the
wilderness as hermits ; they made the mistake of saying that
all the desires, all the tendencies, all the characteristics of
this frail human body of ours are bad things, and have
nothing . good in them ; ' we will, therefore, macerate our-
selves, we will live apart from men, we will dwell in a cave,
we will eat the scanty root, we will drink water when we can
get it, and ask for nothing else.' In all these points they
determined to cut themselves away from their fellow creatures,
and to have no more to do with any human being whatever,
and thus they hoped to get leisure in which to cultivate their
spiritual nature. That was the first turning away from the
true principles of Christianity.
l6 SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY
For our dear Lord went in and out doing good ; He
touched the leper, He raised the fallen, He healed the
wounds of the suffering ; He was always with those who
wanted Him most. And yet no sooner was He gone than
a whole school of Christian people turned away from the
true principles of Christianity, and lived selfish lives, caring
only for themselves, thinking only of their own souls.
Is that a class of people which has entirely vanished in
these days ? I think not. We do not expect, when we go
into the wilder mountains of Switzerland or elsewhere, to
come suddenly on a cave in a mountain-side, and there see
an emaciated saint working out his own salvation. No such
thing as that. Still, in the very heart of English life,
as we see it moving round us, do we not find hundreds of
people who have made up their minds to get to heaven, but
who have lost the road, thinking that heaven is to be gained
only by cutting themselves away from the interests of their
fellows, by taking no share in social responsibilities, by
standing always in direct opposition to what in their enthu-
siasm they call 'the world'? We are in the world, but we
need not be of the world. Be not of the world, but always
in the world — that is Christ's message to us. This is my
first social warning : let us never take part with those who
think that the conditions of their brothers' lives are as
nothing to them in comparison with the securing of their
own salvation. No man ever got to heaven by planning it
for himself alone. No man ever got to heaven by forgetting
his brother.
WHO IS THE church's ALLY?
The next social warning we may take is that which is
afforded us by the time of Constantine. When the Church
of Christ became an Established Church, when it became
the friend and companion of great princes, when it took the
lead in the world as the understood and recognised religion
SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY 17
of the Western world, there was great danger connected
with that too. To go into the details would take too
long, nor do I desire to enter on any of the more thorny
of the controversies raging in our day, and likely ere long
to become matters of acute strife. I will, however, say
this : the fact that the Church attached herself to the
princes of the world led to her immense influence, and led
at the same time to her great loss. For when those strong
children of nature, the Germanic tribes, overwhelmed the
disorganized and corrupted Roman Empire, then it was
that the Church of Christ for the first time became distinctly
the Church of War as opposed to the Church of Peace ; and
that stain on the Church of Christ — that she blessed war
instead of ensuing peace — has clung to it from that
day to this. It made the tremendous mistake of attaching
itself to the powers of this world instead of trusting only in
the strength of the Spirit of God. The Church of Christ
should have remembered that God's Spirit, and God's Spirit
only, can carry us safely through the changes and chances of
this mortal Hfe. They did not sufficiently recognise this ;
instead, they relied on the support and patronage of the
princes of the day, on the great warrior, on the great
monarch. ' Whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; and
whosoever will lose his life for My sake the same shall save
it,' is a text which is worth a great deal of thought. For the
Church went near to losing her soul w^hen, for the sake of
protection and influence in those turbulent days, she placed
herself under the 3egis of the war power of the Germanic con-
querors. We need to take warning from the social evil of
attaching ourselves to the strong, to the great of this world,
rather than to the Spirit of God.
The next warning, on which we may only touch, is that
arising out of the Reformation. I am one of those who
think that the Reformation of the sixteenth century was a
real blessing. Nevertheless, there is no doubt that at the
period of the Reformation a great many evils crept into the
1 8 SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY
Church. Above all, there was one element which, though
not altogether lost, fell into the background (and I may
say in passing that in Christianity, as in all human life,
doctrines, opinions, movements rise and fall, grow up and
die down); this was the recognition of the work of God's Spirit
in the Church and through the Church. The reformers of
that time, by clinging to certain Biblical doctrines which
were certainly true, and by shutting their eyes because
of the prevalence of overlying superstition to others which
were equally true — the reformers seem to me to have lost
sight of the highest and most spiritual of all the elements in
the corporate life of the Church.
A CHURCH THAT FELL.
Coming nearer to our own time, we have a startling
warning from the evils which led to the French Revolution.
That was a time when France, that had been in the van
of civiHzation for at least two centuries, was definitely called
on to answer this question, ' Has the Christian religion, as
you know and understand it, power and Hfe in it to mould
the new elements of society in a way that shall be whole-
some and permanent and good ?' And to this question,
which is certain to be asked of Christianity at every crisis of
opinion, at every period of civil disturbance, at every time
; of social growth, when new forces come into play, when life
enters on fresh phases, and it is a matter of ' old wine in
new bottles,' came the unhappy answer, ' No !' The Church
had lost the power. Never was there such a No in the world's
\ history ; never such an occasion of the failure of the Church
1 — of the failure of Christianity I will not say, but of the
■failure of the Church — as was seen in those tumultuous
years when a new life was born to Europe.
There were two kinds of clergy in the France of the
middle of the eighteenth century, the noble clergy and
the peasant clergy. The noble clergy were a large and
SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY 19
powerful body, drawn from the younger sons of the noble
families of France. They all, more or less, took holy
orders in order that they might get hold of the abbeys, and
bishoprics, and all the advantages, the pickings, as we should
now call them, that were to be got from an Established
Church in that day. Never was it heard in that period
that any man from the ranks, however able, had risen to
be a great personage in the Church. The consequence was
that the noble part of the clergy attached themselves com-
pletely to the Court, and to the noblesse, with which indeed
they were closely connected : they were the sons, the
nephews, the personal friends of the aristocracy ; the same
blue blood ran in their veins. And it was this body of
clergy which to the outer world represented the Church of
France.
When the Revolution came it was heralded by the voice
of Voltaire. He took the side of the nobility. Though
not himself of noble origin, he attached himself entirely to
courts and great persons, and gave them the benefit of his
brilliant wit, his scathing tongue. The new spirit had
entered into him ; he represented the proposed reforms
'from above.' Voltaire therefore spoke the new ideas as
they were being conveyed to the noblesse ; and his battle-
cry was, ' Christ is to be crushed.' Christ and Christianity
and the Established Church to him meant the same thing.
To him it all represented the constant force of reaction and
resistance, and his fierce cry became the oriflamme of the
new v/ar against the Church in France. When he raised
this terrible standard against their faith, not a voice was
raised by the cultivated clergy, nor any resistance made by
the EstabHshed Church. It shuddered and sank down and
died.
The other half of the clergy — nay, nine-tenths of the
clergy — belonged to the peasant class, and had, for the
most part, the charge of the country parishes all over the
kingdom. These men were cut asunder from those in the
20 SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY
higher ranks ; they were in the deepest ignorance ; they
scarcely knew how to perform the daily services ; they often
scarcely knew the meaning of the words they used. Yet
they were fond of their people, and some of them took a
very wholesome and honourable part at the beginning of the
movement of the Revolution ; but they were helpless, be-
cause of the terrible drawback that they were ignorant,
absolutely ignorant.
Voltaire was the prophet of the upper classes. A prophet
of the common people also arose, and that was Rousseau.
Rousseau taught a popular doctrine, the doctrine of affection,
the doctrine of sentimentality, the doctrine of love of man
for man, the doctrine that we are hearing perpetually at the
present day in England. Rousseau preached this doctrine
to the people of France , and where the Church obtained
one hearer, Rousseau obtained a hundred. The result was
that when the crash came the country clergy were also swept
away, when the flood overwhelmed the noble clergy. The
attitude of the Church at the time of the French Revolution
was that of absolute helplessness to do or say one word on
the subject of these great doctrines which lie at the founda-
tion of the best social life ; and which if they be neglected
react with fearful force on us clergy, and on our flocks.
THE CHURCH AS LABOURS FRIEND.
I had meant, had there been time, to speak about the
way in which the Church of England is bound in our day
to pay the greatest heed to civil and social matters, and to
stand forth as a friend and teacher of the people ; for they
greatly need wise guidance with regard to those social pro-
blems which are rising up continually about us, and are re-
ceiving daily, and justly so, more and more attention at the
hands of the community. The people of this country re-
ceived, as you know, their share of power some years ago ;
SOCIAL WARNINGS FROM HISTORY 21
it is a power which they are still learning how to use. Had
the Church of England understood how to come to the
forefront and make friends with the working man, for that
is the bottom of it ; had the Church of England been able
to say with a clear conscience, ' All our heart goes with
those who work ; ' had she had the grace to say, ' Our
leaders are of one mind with the workers of the country ;
the wage-worker is the man we want to raise, to teach him
great principles, to teach him how to rule his house, and take
part in public affairs ' — if this had been our attitude, what
a splendid thing it would have been for the Church of Eng-
land ! Then it might have been felt by men who have been
alienated from us, that there is after all something good
in the Church of England. God grant that it may not yet
be too late ; that we may still be able to show that we can
rise to the duties of our day ! Why should not the Church
be able to repeat the words of Montrose when in his pride
in and love for his country, and his strong self-reliance, he
did not fear to say to Caledonia :
' I'll make thee famous by my pen
And glorious by my sword '?
That is what the Church should say to the people of Eng-
land : 'Famous by our pen' — by our learning, by our
knowledge, by our being able to persuade men of the truth ;
and ' Glorious by the sword ' — the sword of the Spirit, by
which we will choose the good and avoid the evil, with
which we will go forth in the power of God, smiting with a
good courage at the devil and showing that it is our religion
to be the champions of the weak, the friends of the wage-
earner, the true ' St. George for merry England.'
WASTED LIVES.
REV. A. F. W. INGRAM,
HEAD OF OXFORD HOUSE, BETHNAL GREEN.
' For what shall a man be profited,
if he shall gain the zvhole world and
forfeit his life ? or what shall a man
give in exchange for his life ?' — St.
Matthew xvi. 26 (R.V).
THE mystery of life is as great a mystery as ever.
Men in these days are apt often to dislike mys-
teries, and to say that they cannot believe in
the miraculous. But we men all believe in
one miracle, the greatest break in the uniformity of Nature
ever known — the gift of life, and we all accept one mystery
— the mystery of life. Though we cannot define that mys-
tery, we see that the gift of life is a sacred thing and a
thing that we have no right to destroy in ourselves or to
endanger in others ; and we who live among working men
cannot but regret that any effort designed to safeguard the
lives of our friends should have failed from any cause.
But the subject given me to-day is even a more vital ques-
tion than this, because it concerns the life of man as man.
Man is not merely an animal. He has more than a physical
life. It would be impossible for our Lord to have said that,
'Whosoever will save his physical life shall lose it; and whoso-
ever will lose his physical fife for My sake shall find it.' It
WASTED LIVES
23
is the life of man as man, as mysterious, but as real as the
physical life, of which we are to speak to-day. Although we
cannot define it, yet there are certain things we can see
about it. We can see that it is independent of wealth.
Give a man a chance in Bethnal Green, and he will live as
true and deep a life as any man in Belgravia. We see that
the life of man is independent also of popularity. The true
man's life does generally win and attract, but it also may
be crucified on Calvary. And as we see what that life is
independent of, so also we see of what it is the secret. It
is the secret, and the only secret, of rest to a man's con-
science. You see a man restless, uncertain. What is the
cause of his restlessness ? He is not living the hfe which
God has given him to live. This life is also the secret of
power. Who are the men that have turned the world upside
down but men like Lord Shaftesbury, who have lived out
their lives to the full ? Again, it is the secret of progress.
Many a man starts in life with very moderate intellectual
gifts, but by Hving his life to the full he often surpasses those
who are far cleverer than himself.
And so we are forced to ask this question — in this extraor-
dinary mystery of the life of man, which stands before
everyone in this church to-day, are there any essentials that
we can fix upon without which a man's life is a wasted
and not a true one ? I. The first — and I am careful as
one who aims at being a social reformer to say it — the
first essential of the true man's life is that it must be in
communion with God. We call this, and perhaps rightly,
the Church Forward Movement. But with all the failures
of the Church in the past it has never ceased to be a witness
to the unseen ; and if we go into this great battle relaxing
our hold on the unseen forces of strength, the Church For-
ward Movement will carry itself a very little way. We have
to be in communion with God. Life comes from life in a
spiritual as in a physical sense. And when you see a man
who is now, perhaps, in middle life, giving up what his
24 WASTED LIVES
mother taught him — when you see a man thinking that busy
philanthropy will make up for this first element in his life,
you see him committing a fundamental mistake. Man is a
praying animal, and he cannot help it. That is the first thing
which distinguishes him from the mere animal. A man who
represses or ignores that side of his nature is so far living a
wasted life.
II. Secondly, if the life of a man is lived in communion with
God, one characteristic of that life is that it must be pure.
I am not speaking now of moral purity, but purity in busi-
ness life and social matters. A man came to me the other
day who lives in the East End of London, and who was
earning up in this City four pounds a week. He said, ' I am
forced, sir — it is my business — to do things which my con-
science tells me are wrong. I am forced to make facsimiles,
so called, which are not facsimiles. I have done it, but it
is against my conscience, and I have come to tell you that I
can do it no longer, and that I shall throw up my work.'
He did throw it up. He threw up what our working men
in Bethnal Green call ' splendid pay,' and I say that a man
like that is an honour to the City. It is such men who will
purify the morality of it. Do not think, my friends, that I
am exaggerating in what I have said. In every mission
instances occur of men coming and saying, ' I know this
thing I am doing is wrong, but I have got a wife and
children to care for, and I am forced to do it.' Now, if
there is no other Lent resolve made by those who have
been attending these services, there surely must be this one
made, * I will make it possible for every man in my employ
to be a God-fearing man.'
A third great essential of a man's life is — and it is this
that the Christian Social Union exists to demonstrate and
enforce — that it should be lived in the service of others.
One would have thought that to be an elementary truth, and
that there would have been no need for any Christian Social
Union to enforce it. But is there no such need ? Surely,
WASTED LIVES 25
when we consider the matter — and I only repeat here
to-day a question I have asked in all the great public
schools of England, and at Oxford and Cambridge — is it
credible that God should have given a small minority of this
country wealth and leisure and education, and yet that they
should imagine for a moment that they may spend it all on
themselves ? The thing is altogether incredible. ' Where
is Abel, thy brother?' is the first question that will meet
every one of us before the throne of God. ' Where is he?
You were one of the minority ; you had education and
leisure, and wealth. But there was a life linked with yours ;
there was a young brother put under your charge, and it
was an understood thing that those advantages were given
to you in trust for him. Where is he? If you have spent
them on yourself alone, he must be starving; if you have
used up all the supplies, he must be fainting. Where is
Abel thy brother?' We must face this question here and
now if we are to face it at the last. We must face it in
this city. There is at this moment a magnificent chance
for men of all political creeds. We are not asking you to
utter some party shibboleth, but to fulfil an elementary law
of God. There is, I say, a magnificent opportunity at this
moment that men of every kind, and of every colour of
thought, can take to fulfil this law. A colleague of
mine, whom I will not name, but who is himself a City
man, occupies his time, after a hard day's work up
here, at places which he has founded for the benefit
of his brothers throughout East London, where they may
receive that education and recreation of body and mind
and spirit, which he in the bounty of God received himself.
For what are these great clubs, which might be made of
such tremendous power in that neighbourhood, languishing ?
For want of men to come forward and help. The working
men in their committees are managing these places well, but
they would be the first, if I called them up here, to tell you
that what they need is men of education to help them in
26 WASTED LIVES
their classes and debates. While these great places, within
a mile or two from here, are undermanned, I can never
believe that this elementary truth of the Gospel has really
penetrated the minds and hearts of City men.
Then again, during this last fortnight I have been to
every college in Oxford. I have there addressed at least
five hundred young men, and I can tell you that so far as
they are concerned the heart of young England is sound.
Where, then, is the difficulty? They are ready to give
their lives to the service of God anywhere, but whenever
any of them offer to do so, their relations, as a rule, hold
up their hands in horror at the thought of them living and
working, for instance, in East London. At this moment
there are men at Oxford willing to endure what discomfort
there is in living down in Bethnal Green, but they are
opposed by their relations. I know that relations must
look at all sides of the case, and that the father is think-
ing of his son's welfare in saying, ' I must not let my
boy, in a moment of enthusiasm, wreck his career.' But
are you parents so satisfied with your life as you live it ?
are you so satisfied that you have lived a man's full life,
that you will check altogether your boy living a different
one ? We must be careful here, I know ; let no hard word
hurt the feelings of an affectionate parent who may be here;
but still I say, Refrain from checking altogether this impulse
of unselfishness ; so far as may be, let them alone, lest haply
you may be found even to fight against God.
Let us break, then, through the crust of old prejudice,
and selfishness, and class feeling, and fling ourselves into
a life of service for God and man. We do not want
views, we want work. And as men work for God they
will find their faith in Him strengthened, they will purify
themselves more and more in their private and public
life, even as God is pure, and they will ^nd their lives.
It is not, to quote again the often quoted illustration of
a great preacher, it is not when a ship is fretting her side
WASTED LIVES 27
against the wharf that she has found her true life, but it is
when she has cut the ropes which bind her to the wharf,
and is out upon the ocean, with the winds over her, and
the waters under her, it is then she knows the true joy a
ship is made for, as she plunges and ploughs away the sea.
And so it is not when a man is fretting his side against the
wharf of his own self, not when he is saying, ' What will people
think of me ?' or ' How shall I get on ?' but when he has cut
the cords which bind him to his old self, when he is out on
the ocean of loving work for God and man, with the winds
over him and the waters under him, it is then he knows the
true joy a man was made for ; he has lost his life, as the
world thinks, but in losing it so he discovers he has
found it.
AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER?
BY THE
VEN. ARCHDEACON FARRAR, D.D.
WE hear much in these days of what is called
the ' higher criticism ' — in other words, of
the application of critical, literary, historic
methods to the documents and the narra-
tives of Scripture. The method and its results are viewed
by many with vague but unnecessary alarm. For this,
at least, is certain, that no criticism can touch the spiritual
depth, the moral instructiveness, enshrined in the pages
of the Bible.
Whether the story of Cain and Abel be taken for literal
history, or for profound allegory, there is not a line of it
which does not breathe such wisdom as we could not
parallel in the books of all the sages. In the envy of Cain ;
in God's revelation to him that every righteous offering will
be accepted, but that the s orifice of the wicked is abomina-
tion to the Lord ; in the solemn warning that his peril lay
in the wild beast of sin crouching at the door of his heart ;
in the rapidity with which the smouldering grudge broke
out into the fiery wrath of murder, we have deep and
abundant lessons. In the fact that so headlong was man's
collapse from his original innocence that of the first two
human beings born into the world the eldest grew up to be
a murderer, and the younger to be his murdered victim, we
have a terrible glimpse into that apostasy of man's evil
AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER? 29
heart, of which we see the bitter fruits in every walk we
take in the common streets.
All national history, all war, every prison, every peniten-
tiary ; all riot, disorder, and sedition ; that devilish type of
manhood in which every other passion is merged into an
incarnate rage ; the deadly struggles of capital and labour ;
anarchy with its victims shattered by dynamite and its cities
blazing with petroleum ; incendiary tumults, the 'red-fool fury'
of revolution, with its carmagnole and its guillotine — -yes, the
records of crime, and brutality, and suicide, and internecine
struggle, which crowd our newspapers from day to day, are
but awful comments on these few verses of the fourth chapter
of Genesis, and indications of the consequences which follow
the neglect of their tremendous lessons. All this, however,
I must pass over, to fix your mind briefly on the fragment
of the sequel.
Abel lay on the green grass, and earth's innocent
flowers shuddered under the dew of blood. ' And the
Lord said unto Cain, "Where is Abel thy brother?"
And he said,' — for the first murderer is also the first liar
— '"I know not"'; and he insolently added — for the
first murderer is also the first egotist — ' Am I my brother's
keeper ?' But the Lord sweeps aside the daring falsehood,
the callous question. ' And He said, What hast thou
done ? The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto Me
from the ground. And now thou art cursed.' And Cain
fled to the land of his exile, with the brand of heaven's
wrath on his soul, and on his brow.
And here, my friends, I leave the narrative to speak to
you of its significance for us all these millenniums after-
wards. Briefly it must be, and very inadequately. All
I can do is to impress a great principle ; to deepen in our
minds the sense of a solemn duty. Applications must be
left to our own consciences and to other discourses. Yet
there should be enough in the considerations which I would
fain bring before you to awaken our serious thoughts. We
30 AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER ?
each of us ask, in words and in our lives, 'Am I my
brother's keeper ?' God answers to each of us, ' You are !'
The world, with all its might, answers, ' No ! I am not.'
Vast multitudes of merely nominal Christians — all those
who are content with the dead Judaism of a decent,
functional, and superficial religionism — all the vast army
of the compromisers and the conventionalists — while they
say, or half say, with their reluctant hps, 'Yes, I am my
brother's keeper,' yet act and. live in every respect as if
they were not. There is little practical difference between
their conduct and that of the godless world. Did not
Christ indicate this when He described the two sons, of
whom the bold rebel said, * I will not go into the vineyard ' ;
and the smooth, respectable hypocrite said, ' I go, sir,' and
went not ? Alas ! we ordinary Christians are a very poor
lot indeed. We have preached Christ for centuries,
* Until men almost learn to scoff,
So few seem any better off.'
And if some, like the sneering lawyer, interpose an excuse,
and ask, ' Who is my brother ?' the answer is the same
as that which Christ gave in the parable of the Good wSama-
ritan. All men are our brethren ; all who sin, all who suffer,
all who lie murdered like Abel, sick and wounded Hke the
poor traveller — where they have been left by the world's
thieves and murderers, where they lie neglected by the
frosty-hearted priest and the scrupulously sacrificing Tevite
on the hot and dusty wayside of the world.
Yes, all men are our brothers ; and when we injure them
by lies which cut like a sharp razor, by sneers, by innuendoes,
by intrigues, by slander and calumny, by hatred, malice, and
all uncharitableness, by want of thought, or by want of
heart, by the lust of gain, by neglect, by absorbing selfish-
ness, we are inheritors of the spirit of the first murderer.
But let us confine our thoughts to those who most press-
ingly need our services — to the great masses of the poor.
AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER? 31
the oppressed, the wretched, the hungry, the lost, the out-
cast. I will enter into no disquisition to account either for
their existence or our responsibility for it. I will only say
that among them lies, in some form or other, a great sphere
of our duty, which, if we neglect for our pleasure, we
neglect also at our peril. I need hardly pause to prove
that this is our duty to our fellow-men, and above all to
our suffering fellow-men. It is the unvarying lesson of
Scripture. It is the essential message of the grand old
Hebrew prophets. It was the frequent theme of Christ.
It was the repeated exhortation of His Apostles and evan-
gelists. We are constantly told by callous and worldly
persons what a crime it is to give to a beggar ; we are con-
stantly lectured on our ' maudlin sentimentality ' if we aid
the starving families of men on strike. Even newspapers
that are supposed to be specially Christian have no scorn
too acrid for propositions dictated by a generous if per-
plexed sympathy for which they can find no better terms
than 'verbal poultices,' 'sickly fluidity,' and 'hysteric gush.'
One sees how summarily Isaiah and St. James would have
been trampled into contempt by the trenchant criticisms of
these gentlemen.
Well, let us by all means attend to our political economy,
let us by all means tame down the splendid passion of the
prophets, lest it should seem socialistic ; and the generous
impulse of the philanthropist, lest it should interfere with
the ratepayer. But, in Heaven's name, let us not forget
that, when all is said and done by those who rightly dis-
courage mere casual dole-giving, the majestic claims of
charity are not exhausted. We have not quite done our
duty to the world of the wretched when we have proved to
our own satisfaction that men whose passionate love for
their fellow-men has reclaimed thousands of the arabs of
our streets, and preached the Gospel to the lowest of the poor,
are contemptible fanatics. Is it, indeed, the case that as we
loll in our luxurious armchairs we not only need give nothing
32
AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER?
\
to help these efforts, but can even afford to look down from
the whole height of our paltry conventionalism on workers
who have more of the love of God and man in their little
fingers than any ordinary thousand of us have in our whole
loins ? I esteem far higher the burning desire to help their
fellow-men, the strenuous effort to carry that desire into
effect, which actuates men who are the common sneer of
worldlings and of religious newspapers, than I estimate the
thin respectability and smug decorum of thousands of com-
monplace Churchmen. These lovers of their brethren
have not only criticised and sneered — they have rescued the
perishing, they have cared for the dying, they have healed
the broken-hearted, they have wrought and fought, and toiled
and prayed, and suffered. James Russell Lowell was a poet,
a statesman, a man of the world. You know his poem, ' A
Parable ' :
' Said Christ our Lord, " I will go and see
How the men, my brethren, believe in Me.'"
The chief priests, and rulers, and kings welcomed Him with
state and with pompous services :
' Great organs surged through arches dim
Their jubilant floods in praise of Him ;
And in church and palace, and judgment hall,
He saw His image high over all.
But still, wherever His steps they led
The Lord in sorrow bent down His head ;
And from under the heavy foundation-stones
The Son of Mary heard bitter groans.
Have ye founded your thrones and altars then
On the bodies and souls of living men ?
And think ye that building shall endure,
Which shelters the noble and crushes the poor?'
In vain they pleaded their customs and their rehgious
rites :
' Then Christ sought out an artisan,
A low-browed, stunted, haggard man,
And a motherless girl whose fingers thin
Pushed from her faintly want and sin.
AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER ? 33
These led He in the midst of them,
And as they drew back their garments' hem
For fear of defilement, " Lo ! here," said He,
" The images ye have made of Me !" '
The lesson is full of warning. That there is an almost
shoreless sea of misery around us, which rolls up its
dark waves to our very doors ; that thousands live and die
in the dim border-land of destitution ; that litde children
wail and starve, and perish, and soak and blacken soul and
sense, in our streets ; that there are hundreds and thousands
of the unemployed, not all of whom, as some would per-
suade us, are lazy impostors ; that the demon of Drink still
causes among us daily horrors which would disgrace
Dahomey or Ashantee, and rakes into his coffers millions of
pounds which are wet with tears and red with blood : these
are facts patent to every eye. Now, God will work no
miracle to mend these miseries. If we neglect them they
will be left uncured, but He will hold us responsible for the
neglect. It is vain for us to ask, ' Am I my brother's
keeper ?' In spite of all the political economists, in spite of
all superfine theories of chilly and purse-saving wisdom, in
spite of all the critics of the irreligious — still more of the
semi-religious, and the religious press. He will say to the
callous and the slothful, with such a glance ' as struck
Gehazi with leprosy, and Simon Magus with a curse,' ' What
hast thou done ? Smooth religionist, orthodox Churchman,
scrupulous Levite, befringed and bephylacteried Pharisee,
thy brother's blood crieth to Me from the ground !' And
this awful appeal which He is always making to us arouses a
murmur, a hiss, a shout of reclamation. The respectable
say, * Are we rich, we clever, we refined people, we good
Churchmen, we who thank God we are not as that fanatic,
or that Dissenter, are we our brother's keeper ?' And^the
scornful Nabobs say, ' What have we to do with these
pariahs, these hangers-on of the gin-shops, these noisy
demagogues ?' Was not St. James thinking of such when,
3
34 AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER ?
writing to the wealthy and religious respectabilities of his
day, he sternly arraigned their callous selfishness with the
charge, ' Ye have despised the poor ' ? There are many
ways of asking the question of Cain. There is that of
coarse ignorance; of men steeped in the greed and hardness
of gold, who say outright, with Tennyson's ' Northern
Farmer,' that ' the poor in a lump is bad.' But it may
also be asked in a spirit which robs even charity of its
compassionateness and makes a gift more maddening and
more odious than a blow. Nor are they excusable who dis-
claim their responsibility to the world of anguish in the ,
spirit of indifferent despair. How many find an excuse for
doing practically nothing by saying, 'What good can we do?
Of what earthly use is it ?' And then, perhaps, they trium-
phantly quote the words of Deuteronomy, ' The poor shall
never cease out of the land.' Ah, why do they invariably
forget the words which follow : ' Therefore I command thee,
saying, Thou shalt surely open thy hand unto thy brother, to
thy needy, and to thy poor in the land. Thou shalt surely
give him, and thine heart shall not be grieved when thou
givest unto him, because that for this thing the Lord thy
God shall bless thee in all thy works, and in all that thou
puttest thine hand unto ' ? This despair of social problems
is ignoble, and is unchristian. ' I know,' says Mr. Ruskin,
'that there are many who think the atmosphere of misery
which wraps the lower orders of Europe more closely every
day as natural a phenomenon as a hot summer. But
God forbid ! There are ills which flesh is heir to, and
troubles to which man is born; but the troubles which he is
born to are as sparks which fly upward, not as flames burn-
ing to the nethermost hell. The poor we must have with
us always, and sorrow is inseparable from any hour of life ;
but we may make their poverty such as shall inherit the
earth, and the sorrow such as shall be hallowed by the hand
of the Comforter with everlasting comfort. We can, if we
will but shake off this lethargy and dreaming that is upon
AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER ? 35
y
US, and take the pains to think and act like men.' Once
more, there is an unfaithfulness which does not, indeed,
challenge God with the question, ' Am I my brother's
keeper ?' but in domestic sloth acts as if it were not. The
poets, with that inspired insight which makes them the
deepest of moral teachers, have seen this most clearly.
Coleridge speaks of
* The sluggard Pity's vision-weaving tribe
Who sigh for wretchedness, yet shun the wretched,
Nursing in some delicious solitude
Their dainty loves and slothful sympathies.'
Wordsworth sings that we are living in days
' When good men
On every side fall off we know not how
To selfishness, disguised in gentle names
Of peace, and quiet, and domestic love.'
If it is only the basest men who are drowned and besotted
in their own selfish and sensual individualism — the egdisme
a sot — many even good men and women have need to be
seriously on their guard against the slightly expanded selfish-
ness— the egdisme a plusieurs — which wholly absorbs them
in the interests of their own children, and their own families,
till it blinds their eyes to the fact that they do nothing
else. There is a serious danger to us all lest our narrow
domesticity should gradually enervate many of our nobler
instincts by teaching indifference to the public weal as a sort
of languid virtue. ' I live among my own people.' Yes ;
but God made me also a citizen of His kingdom. ' Life,'
said Lacordaire, ' when limited to itself borders closely upon
selfishness. Even its very virtues, if they do not seek to
extend themselves over a wider area, are apt to succumb to
the narrow fascination it exerts.' Many a man, in his affec-
tion and service to his family, forgets that he belongs also to
the collective being ; that he cannot without guilt sever
himself from the needs of his parish, of his nation, of his
3—2
36 AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER ?
race, of the poor, of the miserable, of the oppressed. If
he is to do his duty in this hfe, he must help them, he must
think for them, he must sympathize with them, he must give
to them. We must not be like the churlish Nabal, saying,
* There be many servants nowadays that break away, every
man from his master. Shall I then take my bread and my
wine and my flesh that I have killed for my shearers, and
give it unto men whom I know not whence they be ?' We
must not be like Dives, arrayed in purple and fine linen,
faring sumptuously every day, while Lazarus lies neglected
— and, in all but vain words, unpitied — at our doors. The
old Epicurean poet Lucretius says that 'it is sweet when
the winds are sweeping the waters into storm, in some
great sea, to watch the dread toiling of another from the
shore.' The feeling of the Christian must be the very op-
posite to this. He must man the lifeboat. If he be too
weak to row he must steer ; if he cannot steer he must help
to launch it ; if he must leave even that to stronger arms,
then
* As one who stands upon the shore,
And sees the lifeboat go to save,
And all too weak to take an oar,
I send a cheer across the wave.'
At the very least, he must solace and help and shelter and
supply the needs of the poor shipwrecked mariners. The
meanest position of all and the commonest is to stand still
and do nothing but chatter and criticize, and say that the
lifeboat is a bad one and not fit to be used, or that it is
being launched in quite the wrong way and by quite the
wrong people. Worst and wickedest of all is it to stand
still and call those fools and fanatics who are bearing the
burden and heat of the day. The best men suffer with
those whom they see suffer. They cannot allay the storm,
yet, since the cry knocks against their very hearts, they
would at least aid those who are doing more than themselves
to rescue the perishing. They would at least sympathize
AM I MY BROTHER'S KEEPER ? 37
and help, and, at the lowest, give. I commend these
thoughts to your earnest consideration, and having set be-
fore you the general principle and the general duty, I con-
clude with a practical application. Of this we may be sure,
that character, not creed, service, not form, is the test, and
the sole test which, alike in the Old and New Testament,
God invariably requires of us. It is love which is the ful-
filling of the law. It is only by keeping the command-
ments that we can enter into life. We may come before
God in the bluest of orthodox fringes and the broadest of
Pharisaic phylacteries, we may belong to the only right
organization, we may hold to the only right opinions about
priests and sacraments, we alone may be careful about keeping
the rubrics with the most scrupulous accuracy, but all this
will be as valueless, nay, as hateful, in the sight of God, if
it be unaccompanied by charity and service, as were the
mint, anise, and cumin of the arrogant and exclusive
Pharisees and priests who murdered the Christ for whom
they professed to look. There is but one test with God of
orthodoxy, of catholicity, of membership of the kingdom
of heaven. It is given in the last utterance of Revelation
by the beloved disciple. It sweeps away with one breath
nine-tenths of the fictions and falsities of artificial orthodoxy
and fanatical religionism. It is : ' He that doeth righteous-
ness is righteous,' and ' He that doeth righteousness is born
of God.'
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY.
BY THE
REV. R. L. OTTLEY,
PRINCIPAL OF PUSEY HOUSE, OXFORD.
Atid he spake a parable unto thei7i,
saying, The ground of a certain rich
man brought forth plentifully :
And he thought within himself
saying. What shall I do, because I
have no room where to bestotu my
fruits ?
And he said, 7 his will I do : I
will pull doivn my barns, and build
greater ; and there ivill I bestow all
my fruits and my goods.
A7id 1 will say to my soul, Soul,
thou hast much goods laid up for
niany years ; take thine ease, eat,
drink, and be 7nerry.
But God said unto him, Thou fool,
this night tliy soul shall be required
of thee : then whose shall those things
be, which thoti hast provided?
So is he that layeth up treasure
for himself and is not rich toward
God. — St. Luke xii. i6-2i.
THE passage before us suggests a few general reflec-
tions bearing on the subject of property.
I. It im plies that the institution of property \%
recognised by Jesus Christ ; is sanctioned as a
social arrangement which in principle is right. If the pos-
session of property is an occasion of great sins, and great
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY 39
negligences, it is clear that the right use of it demands con-
spicuous virtues, and is fruitful in social and personal bless-
ings. Thus sanctioned by our Lord, the rights of property
have been made the subject of Christian thought in every
age of Church history ; and the time seems to demand a re-
statement of principles which are really old, but practically
forgotten. Before, then, we consider some of the lessons
contained in our Lord's parable, it will be well to state
clearly what Christian teachers have held as to the ethics of
property. They generally appear to confine themselves to
ihe following points
1. There is a distinction between the law of Nature and
the law of the State, or positive law. By the law of Nature
all things are common to all men"^ ; there is no such thing
as a ' right ' of personal possession. Indeed, the very idea
of private ' right ' can only be developed in civil society ;
it must be instituted, regulated, and protected by the posi-
tive law of a community. In fact, it is a creation of society,
of human law. And St. Thomas Aquinas maintains that
in the abstract it is possible for the law of Nature to super-
sede the positive law of the community. 'According to
the natural order of Divine Providence,' he says, 'material
things are ordained for the supply of human necessity.'
And therefore, in a case of absolute necessity, the law of
Nature justifies an invasion of the right of property, which
by the very fact of extreme necessity is ' made common.'
For 'the superfluities which belong to some are by natural
right bound to be given {debe7itur) to the support of the
poor.'t It is obvious that in a country living under a poor
law, like our own, the abstract possibility contemplated by
St. Thomas cannot be said to exist.
2. But abstract natural right is limited and controlled by
positive law. For though, as Edmund Burke says, natural
* See references in Ashley, ' Economic History,' vol. i., p. 207.
f 'Summa,'ii. 2ae. 66, 7. Cf. Gury, 'Compendium theol. moralis^
torn, i., p. 413 (Paris, 1868).
40 THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
rights ' exist in total independence ' of government, ' and
exist in much greater clearness and in a much greater
degree of abstract perfection ' ; yet ' their abstract per-
fection is their practical defect. By having a right to
everything' men 'want everything. Government is a con-
trivance of human wisdom to provide for human wants.'"^
For its own benefit, therefore, human society is obliged to
sanction and protect the institution of property. Thus,
although some early Christian teachers w^ere inclined to
question the possibility of rights which they traced to
human sin, yet later thinkers allow that property is necessary
both on grounds of social expediency and of individual
moral discipline. On the one hand, property is a necessary
condition for the development of a country's resources, and
a necessary stimulus to human exertion. The creation of
wealth, the supply of natural wants, the organization of in-
dustry, the subdual of Nature to man's purposes, could not
go on if rights of property were abolished. On the other
hand, property is a necessary condition of a man's personal
development. It is the material on which man as a moral
personality exerts his energies, and displays his character.
It is ' the best means hitherto devised of stimulating the
individual's energies in productive work.'f The responsi-
bility it imposes trains a man in prudence, generosity, self-
control, humility, compassion, public spirit, and charity.
Property brings him face to face with great moral duties ;
it opens the way to high possibiHties in character. Because
wealth and responsibility go together, ' w^ealth and Christ
may co-exist.' | Christianity has no quarrel with property
as such. Some of the noblest characters in the Gospel are
men of w^ealth — Nicodemus, Zacchaeus, Joseph, the ' good
man and just.'
* 'Reflections on the French Revolution,' p. 70 [ed. Payne, Oxf.,
1883].
f Rev. H. Rashdall, 'Assize Sermon,' Nov, 9, 1893 (St. Mary's,
Oxford).
Z T. E. Brown, ' Studies in Modern Socialism,' p. 162.
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY 41
3. Property is ultimately subject to the control of the
community — of the State. It is acquired subject to the
protection of the State. ' It is held in subordination to the
supreme claims of the community.'"^ It is justifiable in so
far as it is used for the benefit of the community. The
right to enjoy wealth may be legitimately called in question
by the State when that wealth is not serving a social purpose.
Society, in short, can exercise a claim to regulate the right of
property; in extreme cases, might altogether set it aside. t
And this abstract principle is reinforced by a consideration
of the conditions under which property is acquired in modern
times. In the highly complex conditions of modern industry
' wealth,' it has been justly said, ' is the product of the whole
society, exclusive of the idlers.'l Without the labour of
countless hands, the protection of the State, the co-operation
of innumerable agencies, making possible manufacture, ex-
change, and output, no wealth could accumulate in the
hands of any individual. It is thus obviously true that
property is, in some sense, created by the community, and
therefore that it not merely owes duties to the community,
but is indefensible except on condition that it renders service
to the community. As a matter of fact, the control of the
State over property has been continually asserted, and I am
aware what far-reaching consequences might be deduced
from the Christian principles stated above.
Such, then, are the broad principles on which property
is recognised as a necessary institution by Christianity. The
duty seems to be laid upon us at the present time of reviv-
ing the best traditions of the Church's moral teaching ; by
bringing the duties of property into the light of God ; by
reminding men of wealth that they are amenable to a higher
law than that sanctioned by Parliaments and enforced by
courts of justice.
* Lilly, 'Right and Wrong,' pp. 182, 183.
t For the bearing of this position on ecclesiastical property see the
passage from Bp. Butler (Note A).
X Rashdall, udi sup.
42 THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
II. Let us now turn to our Lord's parable, and consider
what it teaches as to the characteristic sins of the rich ; let
us notice also the nature of the judgment which, in a typical
case, overtakes the misuse of wealth. This will be the
subject of to-day's sermon.
I. The first and most obvious peril of the rich man is the
sin of avarice : the inordinate desire of accumulation. To
the ' rich fool ' his property was the one centre of all his
thoughts, hopes, and aims. * What,' says he, ' shall I do ?'
(Observe that he uses the same anxious expression which,
in another connection, is applied to eternal life : 'What shall
I do to inherit eternal life ?' in yet another case to the
salvation of the soul : ' What shall I do to be saved ?') The
rich fool has no ideal, no aspiration, no desire, no hope for
the future beyond the mere pleasure of acquisition. He is
engrossed in the thought of the abundance of the things
which he possesses. This is more than mere short-sighted-
ness. It is fatal misdirection of desire : it is avarice —
' covetousness which is idolatry.' Avarice means eagerness
for gain beyond the limit necessary to a man's station in
life •* and it is a sin against God and against society : a sin
against God, because it implies the withholding of the heart
from God ; money becomes an idol, the making of money
a religion ; for ' that is truly a man's religion, the object of
which fills and holds captive his soul and heart and mind —
in which he trusts above all things, which above all things
he longs for and hopes for';t and a sin against society ^
because wealth is a social good ; to withhold it from doing
service to our fellowmen is a breach of the eighth command-
ment; to hoard, conceal, or amass it beyond limit for private
ends is in a sense to steal it.
Here, then, we have a characteristic Christian principle :
* 'Summa,' ii. 2; Ii8: i 'Avaritia peccatum est quo quis supra
dehitum modum cupit acquirere vel retinere divitias.'
+ Dean Church, ' Cathedral and Univ. Serm,,' p. 156. Cf. Col. iii. 5 ;
Eph. V. 5.
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY 4'>
the importance of due limitation in the acquisition of wealth.
Yet Aristotle anticipates it to some extent when he says
that sufficiency of wealth, if a good life be held in view, is not
unlimited ; and when he adds the remark that the tendency
to limitless acquisition is eagerness for life, but not for good
life.-
2. A second peril of the rich is selfishness in expenditure.
The rich fool speaks of ' my goods, my fruits, my barns.'
In the same way Nabal, the churl of David's time, says :
' Shall I take my bread and my water and my flesh that I
have killed, and give it unto men whom I know not whence
they be?'t The man makes self his centre; to him en-
largement of wealth means not larger liberality in distribution,
but increased luxury in personal expenditure. He has that
perverted sense of the ' sacredness' of property which is not,
we may fear, very uncommon. Property is indeed 'sacred':
but in what sense ? It is sacred because the use of it is
subject to the moral law of God, and also because the
possessor of it has a sacred right to protection in the fulfil-
ment of his social duty. Property is not sacred in the sense
that a man may do what he wills with his own. The Gospel,
as we have seen, claims wealth for human society; demands
its use as an instrument in the promotion of public well-
being. The evangelical law supersedes the requirement of
mere civil law. ' He,' says Wycliff in his treatise on Civil
Lordship, 'who in accordance with human rights trans-
gresses in the use of his riches the boundaries fixed by the
law of the Lord, sins against the Lord.'t Here we have
another Christian principle regulating the use of wealth; not
the minimum which human law requires, but the maximum
which evangelical law directs, is to be the measure of the
right use of property.
* Aristotle, ' Politics,' i. 8, 14 ; 9, 16. See F. W. Robertson,
'Sermons,' second series, No. i, 'Christ's judgment respecting in-
heritance.'
t I Sam. XXV. 11.
+ ' De civili dominio,' lib. i. 20.
44 THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
3. A third peril of riches is imphed in the words of the
rich fool to himself : ' Soul, thou hast much goods laid up
for many years ; take thine ease.' Notice here the fatal
effect of misused wealth in the paralysing of moral and
spiritual effort. Our Lord says in another passage re-
corded by St. Luke, ' Woe unto you rich, for ye have
received your consolation.' Not on rich men as such is
this woe pronounced; but on those who yield to the tempta-
tions of wealth — who are contented and at ease. Christ
points to the danger of a growing insensibility to the claims
and appealing needs of others ; the gradual closing of the
spiritual eye to all high objects of hope, love, and fear ; the
gradual hardening of the heart and conscience. It is re-
lated of Mr. Cobden that he once observed, ' When I go to
church there is one prayer which I say with my whole soul :
In all time of our wealthy Good Lord, deliver ns' The chief
danger of large possessions lies in their power to Wind,
harden, benumb the spiritual faculties. Material comfort
and luxury tends gradually to deaden the soul ; to kill out all
high aspirations ; to form a crust about us which the calls to
social service and helpfulness cannot pierce ; to undermine
entirely the sense of need and moral misery, to which faith
in a Redeemer and Saviour can make appeal. In fact, the
dangers of wealth are like those of an incessant life of busi-
ness. There is a striking passage in St. Bernard's book
addressed to Pope Eugenius IIL, in which he warns the Pope
of the peril of being constantly immersed in the multifarious
secular business which, in those days, pressed upon the
occupant of the Roman see. He bids Eugenius beware
lest all this mass of routine work should lead him whither
he would not. 'Ask you whither? — to a ha?'d heart. . . .
And what is a hard heart ? A heart neither broken by
compunction, nor softened by pity, nor moved by prayers,
nor yielding to threats ; a heart ungrateful for benefits . . .
inhuman in dealings with men, presumptuous towards God;
a heart forgetful of the past, negligent of present opportunity,
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY 45
blind to the future. ... In one word — that I may sum up
all the evils of this one dreadful evil — a heart that fears not
God nor regards man.'"^ And surely we might add : ' So is
he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich
towards God.'f
III. We have considered briefly the dangers of wealth
which the parable sets before us. They might be described
summarily in three words : avarice, that makes an idol of
wealth ; selfishness, that will not share its good things with
others ; sloth, that hardens the heart against the claims of
our fellow-men. In very various degrees these sins are apt
to beset the rich ; and ' hardly,' indeed, ' shall they that have
riches enter into the kingdom of God.'t But with God are
possible the things which are impossible with men. If there
is any class that needs more than others to cultivate by
diligent prayer for God's grace the sense of dependence, of
moral need, of responsibility, it is the class to which the
rich man of the parable belonged. Many there are who
rise victorious above these perils and hindrances ; and,
indeed, the very fact that he is subject to temptations so
fierce gives the man of wealth a claim on the compassion
and consideration of the poor. For the Gospel is not one-
sided. It preaches a brotherhood of men, and brotherhood
implies mutual obligations. Our Lord traces to one and the
same root of covetousness the passionate cry, ' Speak to my
brother that he divide the inheritance with me,'§ and the
grasping selfishness which says, ' What shall I do because I
have no room where to bestow my fruits ?'
But let us turn our thoughts, in conclusion, to the message
which comes to the rich fool from God Himself. In terrible
contrast to his own words, ' Soul, thou hast much goods ;
take thine ease,' there comes to him the Word of God :
* * De consideratione,' lib. i. 2.
t St. Luke xii. 21.
X St. Luke xviii. 24.
§ St. Luke xii. 13.
46 THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
^ God said unto him, Thou fool, this night they require thy
soul of thee.' There is something very awful in this
mysterious expression. What is meant we know not.
Probably some sudden, swift catastrophe; an uprising among
his servants ; a nocturnal attack of robbers ; an outburst of
envy or disappointed greed among his underpaid einployes ;
an act of revenge for some private wrong done to a poor
man, such as Dickens describes so dramatically in his
*Tale of Two Cities.' You recollect how the Marquis —
whose carriage, as it dashed through the streets of Paris,
had killed a poor workman's child— arrives at his luxurious
country seat, and at night goes to rest in a voluptuous
chamber, softly carpeted and curtained, and composes him-
self to sleep. You may remember what they find in his
room on the morrow. The face of the Marquis lies on the
pillow cold and still. ' It was like a fine mask ; suddenly
startled, made angry, and petrified ;' and ' driven home into
the heart was a knife.' Some such end — so sudden, so fearful,
so unprepared — may have been the death of the rich fool.
We know that in Europe generally, not least in England,
there are strange symptoms of social upheaval and disturb-
ance. Our highly-developed civilization has to protect
itself against desperate men whom the conditions of modern
society have maddened. And behind them the voice of
millions of toilers, hitherto dumb, is rising louder in our
ears. What is the root of our present danger — our present
critical social state ? Largely the abuse of the right of
property. The sufferings and wrongs incident to the in-
stitution of property are indeed so aggravated that wild
remedies are proposed ; the institution itself is attacked.
What wonder if men who are miserable and embittered, or
full of passionate pity for the poor, cry aloud for the aboli-
tion of that which they hastily assume to be the source of
all their evils ? The most formidable symptom, it has been
said, of social disorder is ' the growth of Irreconcilable
bodies within the mass of the population, . . . Church
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY 47
and State are alike convulsed by them ; but in civil life
Irreconcilables are associations of men who hold political
opinions as men once held religious opinions. They cHng
to their creed with the same intensity of belief, the same
immunity from doubt, the same confident expectation of
blessedness to come quickly, which characterizes the
disciples of an infant faith. '"^ 'Wherever,' says another
thoughtful writer, ' classes are held apart by rivalry and
selfishness, instead of drawn together by the law of love ;
wherever there has not been established a kingdom of
heaven, but only a kingdom of the world, there exist the
forces of inevitable collision.'! So in touching upon the
swift and mysterious fate of the rich fool, our Lord would
perhaps teach us to consider what is the inevitable end of
any social arrangements which are content to permanently
disregard the moral law of God. If the institution of
private property comes to mean in fact a violation of God's
will ; if it fosters in a man avarice, heartlessness, shame-
less luxury, and worldly ease that can make him contented
and comfortable while thousands of his fellow-creatures
are struggling for the bare necessaries of life — it is
doomed. * It is unjust ; it cannot last' The social state
which is based on an iniquity cannot stand ; it is nigh unto
vanishing. The prophets warned the ancient world what a
corrupt society must expect — a society that refused to be
reformed. They were laughed at by their contemporaries ;
but we know who were right, and who were wrong. It was
not in vain that they testified, ' Woe to the bloody city ;
it is full of lies and robbery.' ' Woe to her that is filthy
and polluted, to the oppressing city'; woe, for 'the just
Lord is in the midst thereof.' 'Woe to them that are at
ease in Zion, and trust in the mountain of Samaria, which
are named chief of the nations.'!
'''- Maine, ' Popular Government,' p. 25.
t Robertson, 'Sermons,' first series, p. 247.
X Nah. iii. i ; Zeph. iii. i, 5 ; Amos vi. I.
48 THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
Our hope for the future Hes, surely, in siding with the
Eternal Righteousness which 'spake by the prophets.'
There is one social force which is not always taken into
account, but which produces effects of acknowledged im-
portance and magnitude. It is the power of awakened
conscience. Among many social symptoms that seem
threatening and disquieting, there is one that is full of hope
and promise, — I mean the fact that there is an evident de-
sire on many sides to bring our social evils into the light of
Christ's Gospel ; a desire to return to first principles ; a
desire to get God's will, in relation to modern problems,
done on earth even as it is done in heaven.* To contribute
by individual self-sacrifice and exertion to that one and only
worthy end of human endeavours, is its own reward.
* Cf. Dale, ' The Ten Commandments,' p. 202.
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY.
BY THE
REV. R. L. OTTLEY.
n.
* And he said unto them, Take
heed, and bezuare of covetozisness : for
a mans life consisteth not in the
abimdance of the things which he
possesseth.'' — St, Luke xii. 15.
IN treating the subject of property, we may find it useful
to adopt a distinction made by St. Thomas Aquinas
between two things: (1) the right of acquisition;
(2) the right of use. Clearly these do not stand upon
precisely the same ground. As to the first, the right of ac-
quiring personal property, we have seen that it claims protec-
tion from society as being absolutely essential to the creation
of wealth and the development of industry ; essential to the
training of character and personality. The desire for acquisi-
tion is an original element in our nature ; and human will
necessarily seeks for itself implements. Accordingly, Aristotle
defines property as ' a collection of implements for the
purposes of life.'* The right to acquire is a necessary
stimulus to human exertion ; some nations are even deficient
in desire for accumulation, and consequently in industrial
energy.! In our own race the instinct of acquisition is
perhaps inordinately developed ; and it is not too much to
* • Politics,' i. 4. t Cf. Robertson, 'Sermons,' ser. 2, p. 13.
4
50 THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
say that it is the source in great measure of our unhappy
social condition ; of the appalling contrasts with which we
are so familiar in our great cities.
As to the use of property, however, we may notice that
there is no question of ' rights ' in any narrow individualistic
sense. Christian teachers with one accord maintain that,
as regards use, a man has no right to look upon any pos-
sessions as his own, but only as common to all, only as
held in trust for the general good,"^ In other words, a man
has no right to do what he likes with his own ; he has only
a right (which means a recognised duty) to do what he
oti^/i^ with his own. Once in the Gospel we find one who
says, ' May I not do what I will with mine own ?' but a
moment's reflection will remind us that He who so speaks
immediately adds, ' I am good.' Goodness alone can be
trusted to do what it wills with its own.f
Here, then, we have two divisions of our subject. We
may deal with the ethics, first, of acquisition ; secondly, of
use.
I. We ask, then, what are the principles that should guide
and regulate the instinct of acquisition ? And on this point
the Gospel is perfectly explicit. Thus it teaches :
I. T/iaf wealth is not the true end of man. — ' A man's life
consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he
possesseth.'J It is the primary duty of the rich to assert
this principle in their own conduct, and to transmit it as a
tradition to their heirs ; to live, act, and speak so that the
getting of wealth should cease to be regarded as the chief
end of man. An American writer declares that ' the
greatest work which the coming century has to do, is to
build up an aristocracy of thought and feeling which shall
hold its own against the aristocracy of mercantilism. '§ We
* Thorn. Aquinas, ' Summa,' ii. 2ae, 66, 2.
+ St. Matt. XX. 15.
X St. Luke xii. 15.
§ A. D. White, quoted by T. E. Brown, * Studies in Modern
Socialism,' p. 167.
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
51
are to discountenance the idea that money is to be the
passport to social eminence. In America the disastrous
effects of the purely mercantile spirit are said to be pain-
fully apparent. ' It has created,' says one authority, ' a class
of men in whom all finer traits of character are extinguished ;
whose aspirations are dwarfed ; whose sympathies are de-
stroyed ; men benumbed in conscience, brutalized in feeling,
whose right is might, and who know no law but the law of
their own audacity.'* It is, in fact, the first principle of
Christianity that a man's worth is to be estimated not by
what he has, but by what he is ; a man's well-being consists
— and here Christian teaching contrasts sharply with some
phases of materialistic socialism — not in the outward satis-
faction of animal desires, but in a certain inward character ;
not in acquisition but in distribution : ' it is more blessed to
give than to receive.'!
2 . The Gospel says that wealth must be justly acquired.
The money-making instinct is to be subjected to the law
of righteousness. So the question arises. How do we come
by our wealth ? It is a question that may well make us
uneasy, as we consider how far removed from the law of
Jesus Christ is the standard which ordinary mercantile life
allows. Clearly, then, the Gospel condemns accumulation
of property by unrighteous means. A man is bound to ask
himself. How have I become rich ? If he has acquired
that which belongs to another by false pretences, or without
giving fair equivalent, he has broken the eighth command-
ment. What anxious heart-searchings this suggests ! ' Have
my gains been won at the expense of the spiritual and
bodily lives of others ? Have they been wrung from the
toiler by unjust means, by payment of starvation wages, by
getting the utmost exertion out of him at the minimum
wage he can be induced to accept, by robbing him of all
opportunity for moral and spiritual improvement? Have
* Brown, op. cit., p. 166.
f Acts XX. 35.
4—2
52
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
I grown rich by fraud and false pretences, by turning out
scamped work or inferior goods, by an unrestricted passion
for purchase at impossible prices ? If I am an owner of
house-property, have I exacted my rents regardless of the
sanitary condition of the tenements ? Have I taken advan-
tage of laws which are allowed to be a dead letter only by
the apathy of public opinion ? Or am I taking shares in
a company which I perfectly well know makes its way by
false representations and lying advertisements, which attracts
by offering excessive dividends, and recognises no responsi-
bility for the welfare of its emJ>/oyes ?' I need not carry
on this line of thought, which has already been brought to
your attention. At least, such reflections may awaken our
conscience in this matter of acquisition. There are surely
not a few who owe to the community a great act of restitu-
tion^ like that of him who said, ' If I have done wrong to
any man, I restore him fourfold.' A man need not leave
his business if he sees his way to reforming the conduct of
it ; but two duties, on Christian principles, he certainly
owes to society : reformation for the future, restitution for
the wrongdoing of the past.
3. As to the limits of acquisition, the Gospel teaches the
duty of moderation. Aristotle, as I reminded you, had
already insisted on this point. The man who accumulates
wealth beyond what is fairly needed for the maintenance
of himself and his family, and real efficiency in work, lies
under a heavy responsibility and is open to great dangers.
* They that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare,
and into many foohsh and hurtful lusts which drown
men in destruction and perdition.'* wSo says the Apostle,
and his teaching reminds us that there lies before a man
of property an alternative — either personal consumption of
his wealth or productive employment of it for the general
social well-being. In the case of the ' rich fool ' we see a
man weighing these alternative schemes, * What shall I do ?'
* I Tim. vi. 9.
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY 53
We have considered his choice and its fatal issue, and we
may remember that it is the wrong choice in this matter
that leads to the social consequences which seem to many
so desperate, which produces 'Irreconcilables,' which suggests
violent measures in relation to property, forcible readjust-
ment of burdens, redress of intolerable wrongs, sweeping
changes in the very framework of society.
Here, then, are Christian principles as to acquisition : (i)
wealth 7W^ the true end of man ; (2) property to be acquired
justly ; (3) to be acquired within the limits of moderation.
II. Passing now to the ethics of tise, we are at least free
from any uncertainty as to the teaching of our Lord. The
Christian stands in a threefold relation to God, to his
neighbour, to himself. He therefore owes duties in a three-
fold direction, and property is to be used under the restraints
which these relationships impose. Wealth is to be employed
in ways that are godly, righteous, and sober. Let us begin
with the last first.
I. In relation to self — in regard to the personal use of
wealth, the Christian law teaches Sobriety, Temperance. I
would ask you to consider the truth of a statement in Mr.
Charles Booth's work on ' Life and Labour in London.' He
remarks that in the bright and busy life of London as we see
it in crowded thoroughfares, 'men come and go, and are
divorced from the sense of responsibility.' Consequently,
'extravagance, which is the exception in the life of each
individual, becomes the rule.' We need to remember this
significant warning against irresponsible extravagance and
luxury, with its various evils, which, says a recent writer,
' nothing will remedy but an effe-ctual attention to the idea of
life as a whole, and a consideration whether its best purposes
are being helped or hindered by our arrangements.'^ Here is
the very heart of the matter of personal expenditure. ' What
is the purpose of my life, and how will my work be best
promoted ? What are the virtues I most need ? How far
* Bosanquet, 'Civilization of Christendom,' p. 290.
54 THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
will my expenditure develop in me industry, self-control,
independence of mind?' The answer to these questions
will obviously vary in different cases. The ' living wage ' of
a man will depend on the nature of his work ; on the claims
to which he is subject. There are in fact, as Professor
Marshall has pointed out,^ certain conventional necessaries
which are required for personal efficiency ; the skilled
labourer differs from the unskilled ; the professional man —
the brain-worker — differs from the manual labourer. His
necessaries, strictly so-called, are very numerous : ' the con-
sumption of them is production ; to abstain from consuming
them is wasteful.' And yet, when all is said and done,
' more than half of the consumption of the upper classes of
society in England is wholly unnecessary.'!
In relation, then, to personal expenditure, we must
remember the law of Sobriety. The true end of our being
is harmonious development of our faculties as moral and
spiritual beings. Wealth is to be soberly enjoyed. * He,'
says Plato, * who knows the temperate life will describe it as
in all things gentle, having gentle pains and gentle pleasures
and placid desires, and loves not insane.'J We must have
a just sense of what self-development claims, and aim at
not exceeding the limit that true sobriety allows.
2. Next, in relation to others, the great rule for property
is moral trusteeship. This principle has been admirably
stated in Mr. Lilly's book ' Right and Wrong ': ' The only
things which a man can in strictness call his own — and even
here he is under the law of conscience — are his spiritual,
intellectual, and physical faculties. The material object on
which he exercises these faculties is subject to a higher
ownership than his ; to the indefeasible title of the human
race represented to him by the community in which he lives.
Of the material surroundings which he calls mine^ he is but
* ' Principles of Economics,' vol. i., chap. iv.
f Ibid., p. 124.
+ 'Laws,' book v., 134,
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY 55
a usufructuary, a trustee. The ultimate and inalienable
ownership of what Aristotle called " the bounty of nature " is
in the human race. Each country belongs, in the last resort,
to its inhabitants in general ; each country, with all that
makes it a country — not merely its land, but all that has
been taken from the land from time immemorial, and trans-
formed into the various instruments of civilized life. . . .
Not only the soil of the country, but its entire accumulated
wealth, natural and fabricated, is, in the last resort, the pro-
perty of the country.'"^ Such is the teaching of economic
science, and Christianity supplements it by the rule that 'none ^j
of us liveth to himself.'! A man owes to the community 'I
the right use of his wealth. The true Christian thought of
trusteeship replaces the old conventional conception (derived
from Roman law) of irresponsible ' rights of property.'
It is needless to remind you how vast a field lies open
for private enterprise in mitigating, by wise outlay and well-
considered employment of capital, the terrible inequalities
of our social state. I need not enlarge on the miseries and
the contrasts which were eloquently described to you last
week. I If we try to find the root of the evils which perplex
us, we shall find that St. Paul gives us a clue. ' In the last
days perilous times — hard times § — shall come ; for men
shall be lovers of their own selves, lovers of money.' The
source of our troubles is forgetfulness of the Christian law
of trusteeship. Each man's conscience must be his guide
as to the best direction in which he may render social
service. The housing of the toiling poor ; the promotion of
education ; the founding of schools and libraries ; the care
of the aged poor ; the providing of recreation for the people ;
the building of refuges and labour homes ; the formation of
companies to promote co-operative enterprise, — these are
some of the fields in which surplus wealth might reap a
harvest ; in which restitution might be made for past
* ' Right and Wrong,' pp. 197, 198. t Rom. xiv. 7.
+ By Archdeacon Fariar. § 2 Tim. iii. I, Kcapoi x«X£Tct.
56 THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
neglect; in which the grand truth of trusteeship might be
practically acknowledged.
3. Lastly, beyond the personal needs that must be effi-
ciently met — beyond the righteous claims of our fellow-men
— there are the claims of Almighty God. It was the sin of
the rich fool that he was not ' rich toward God.' It is true
that in serving society — in ministering to those who in any
sense are poor and in need — we are giving to God. His
providence guides us to proper objects of beneficence. We
owe a primary duty to our own kindred, our neighbourhood,
our employes, our servants. But there are claims of God
independent of the obligations which, when fulfilled towards
His children and little ones, He accepts as rendered to Him-
self. Property owes a duty to Him as the Giver of all.
The right of property is derived from Him ; all that we have
or enjoy is His gift. He is the ultimate lord of the soil.*
He gives power to get wealth. So in relation to God the
owner of property has to bear in mind the law of account-
ability. You will remember how vividly this truth is sug-
gested by the parable of the steward who had wasted his
master's goods, and who endeavoured by ingenuity to satisfy
the just claims of his lord. At least the unjust steward
recognised his accountability, which the rich fool did not ;
and we are to learn from the parable that the glory of God and
the interests of His kingdom stand for us men even higher
than the good of men. ' Thy kingdom come ' stands before
'Thy will be done on earth.' Thus the claims of religion
rise into prominence. There are works distinctively religious
as well as social. For example, the care of the sick and
dying and afflicted is a religious work (cf. St. Matt. xxv. 35 f.).
Hospitals, homes for incurables, etc., owe their origin to
the Christian spirit, and few services are more Christ-like
than the founding of dispensaries and convalescent homes,
or the endowment of parish nurses to visit and tend the poor
m their own homes. Then there are great and crying needs to
% Wycliff, ' De dominio divino,' i. 8.
THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY 57
be met in the mission-field, at home and abroad ; nay, great
deeds of restitution to barbarous races, degraded by contact
with the polluting vices of our civilization. There is urgent
need of churches — great need of endowments for spiritual
purposes, religious education, and the like. It is the great
danger of an age of large and widespread wealth and luxury
that it loses the sense of spiritual realities. That is why St.
Paul"^ charges the rich to put their trust in the //vi77g God ;
not in the dead idol of riches, but in the God who is
eternally alive, ever at work in the world, ever searching the
deeds of men, ever bringing nearer the revelation of His
kingdom. Happy those men of wealth who are conspicuous
in devotion to God : like David, preparing for the building of
the temple; like Zacch^us, hastening to entertain his Saviour;
like Joseph and Nicodemus, providing costly interment for
the sacred body of the Redeemer. Surely of all blessings
that wealth can command, none, if we judge aright, is com-
parable to these.
We have dealt imperfectly with a very large subject. It
seems fitting in these closing sermons of the series preached
in this church to end by suggesting a thought peculiarly
appropriate at this season. On the eve of the Holy Week
let us remember what is the one fundamental remedy for
our social evils — self-sacrifice. Self-sacrifice need not take
precisely the form it took in the first days of the Church's
history, when ' no man said that aught of the things which he
possessed was his own, but they had all things common.'
But it should be inspired by the same motive ; it should be
modelled after the same pattern, viz., the self-oblation of the
Saviour Himself. What Frederick Robertson says is true,
' To the spirit of the Cross alone we look as the remedy for
social evils. When the people of this country, especially
the rich, shall have been touched with the spirit of the Cross
to a largeness of sacrifice of which they have not dreamed as
yet, there will be an atonement between the rights of labour
* I Tim. vi. 17.
58 THE ETHICS OF PROPERTY
and the rights of property.'* The solution of our problems
is to be found in the Gospel of Jesus Christ As we look
around for remedies and aids we shall find none except in
Him. ' Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou — Thou only,
hast the words of eternal life.'
Note A. (See Sermon I.)
Extract from a letter by Bishop Butler, in Fitzgerald's
edition of the ' Analogy,' Preface, p. xciii :
• Property in general is, and must be, regulated by the laws of the
community. This in general is, I say, allowed on all hands. If,
therefore, there be any sort of property exempt from these regulations,
or any exception to the general method of regulating it, such exception
must appear, either from the light of nature or from revelation. But
neither of these do, I think, show any such exception ; and therefore
we may with a good conscience retain any possession, church lands or
tithes, which the laws of the State we live under give us property in.
And there seems less ground for scruple here in England than in some
other countries ; because our ecclesiastical laws agree with our civil
ones in the matter. Under the Mosaic dispensation, indeed, God
Himself assigned to the priests and Levites tithes and other possessions ;
and in these possessions they had a Divine right, a property quite
superior to all human laws, ecclesiastical as well as civil. But every
donation to the Christian Church is a human donation, and no more ;
and therefore cannot give a Divine right, but such a right only as
must be subject in common with all other property to the regulation of
human laws. I would not carry you into abstruse speculation, but
think it might be clearly shown that no one can have a right of per-
petuity in any land except it be given by God, as the land of Canaan
was to Abraham. There is no other means by which such a kind of
property or right can be acquired, and plain absurdities would follow
from the supposition of it. The persons, then, who gave these lands to
the Church had themselves no right of perpetuity in them, consequently
could convey no such right to the Church. But all scruples concerning
the lawfulness of laymen possessing these lands go upon supposition
that the Church has such a right of perpetuity in them ; and therefore
all these scruples must be groundless, as going upon a false sup-
position.'
* 'Sermons,' series i., p. 261.
COMMERCIAL MORALITY.*
BY THE
REV. J. CARTER,
OF PUSEY HOUSE, GENERAL SEC. C.S.U.
I.
' Wherefore putting aivay lyinz,
speak every man truth with his
neighbour : for ive are members one
of another.' — Ephesians iv. 25.
WHY speak of ' commercial morality ' ? Surely
for the Christian there is but one moral
standard, even our Lord's command, ' Be
ye perfect' It recognises no exceptions, it
is meant to control every department of social life. Why^
then, not leave professional men to apply their Christian
principles for themselves ? For two reasons chiefly. Firstly,
because a good many * practical ' men have assumed that
Christian principles have nothing to do with ' business,' and
that commerce is mechanically regulated by its own peculiar
'laws.' Thus prices are fixed by the law of supply and demand.
When buyer and seller transact business, they enter into a
'free contract,' the terms of which are settled by the hig-
gling of the market. And to obviate any further doubt in the
matter, you may appeal to the principle of caveat emptor ! If
people are fools enough to pay for articles of fashion a hundred
per cent, more than they are worth, or if they allow themselves
* Of the two following sermons neither was written out before
delivery, and both are given here in a much shortened form.
6o COMMERCIAL MORALITY
to be deceived by shoddy or adulterated goods, you have a
' right ' to make a profit out of their fooHshness. Such a
view of business may be condemned absolutely. It finds no
sort of reasonable justification either in political economy or
in physical science, and obviously it cannot be maintained
by a true Christian. And, secondly, because many professed
Christians are tempted to great moral laxity in regard to
their business conduct. While hating some of these ' laws '
and trade customs, they have more or less conformed to
them under the increasing stress of competition. It is to
this class especially that the Christian preacher can make
his appeal. He is not called upon to be the keeper of other
men's consciences, nor to relieve practical men of any part
of their personal responsibility. His main duty is simply to
put pressure on the Christian conscience of practical men,
to stimulate its more vigorous action, and to claim a fuller
realization of fundamental principles which are the common
property of all true believers. Therefore, all I can with
authority demand from you is a renewal of your faith and
confidence in those elementary principles of Christian
morality which we learned in the homely words of the
Church Catechism about our duty to our neighbour. And if
beyond this I venture to make any practical suggestions,
they must be judged by you on their merits.
It will be convenient to divide the subject into two parts :
(i.) The actual conditions before us. (ii.) The remedies to
be proposed.
(i.) There can be no doubt that the prevailing methods
of business are utterly deplorable from the moral point of
view. Some time ago the Oxford branch of the Christian
Social Union sent out a number of questions on ' Commer-
cial Morality' to practical men, and the answers received
go far to justify the deliberate opinion of Mr. Herbert
Spencer on this subject :
' It has been said that the law of the animal creation is :
" Eat and be eaten " ; and of our trading community it may
COMMERCIAL MORALITY 6i
be similarly said that its law is, " Cheat and be cheated." A
system of keen competition, carried on, as it is, without
adequate moral restraint, is very much a system of com-
mercial cannibalism. Its alternatives are, "Use the same
weapons as your antagonist, or be conquered and de-
voured." '"^
Let me quote a few of the rephes to the question, ' Do
you find it difficult to apply the principles of Christian
truth and justice to the conduct of business ?'
Two employers write :
' Business is based on the gladiatorial theory of existence.
If Christian truth and justice is not consistent with this,
business is in a bad case. So is nature.'
' You take it evidently for granted that such things are
unjustifiable from the moral standpoint, so that, of course,
the only excuses one can make are that everyone does it,
and that one must live. In my own business I have not
much trouble of this kind, and what I have I generally
weakly give in to.' And then, in regard to a particular piece
of roguery sometimes practised, he remarks, ' I have never
done this with my own hand, though my clerk does it. I
do not like it, and hardly know what I should do if asked
to do it myself! As it is, I leave it to their own consciences,
feeling I must live somehow, and knowing I cannot afford
to lose a good customer.'
And a commercial traveller and a draper's assistant
reply as follows :
' Not only difficult, but impossible. For a man is not
master of himself. If one would live, and avoid the bank-
ruptcy court, one must do business on the same lines as
others do, without troubling whether the methods are in
harmony with the principles of Christian truth and justice
or not.'
' Extremely so. The tendency to misrepresent, de-
ceive, or take unfair advantage under circumstances that
* 'The Morals of Trade.'
62 COMMERCIAL MORALITY
daily offer the opportunity of so doing, is generally too
strong to resist where self-interest is the motive power of
action, the conventional morality the only check. To me
they appear to be opposing principles — the first of self-
sacrifice, the second of self-interest.'
Of course there are well-established firms who can afford
to lose business rather than use dishonest methods ; but,
from all accounts, it is evident that honourable trade is very
considerably hampered by unjust competition.
' If it were possible,' one writes, ' to do away with compe-
tition, the excuse and justification for a large proportion of
commercial immorality would be gone. There would then
be a chance for a man to trade honestly with a reasonable
prospect of success. I believe there are thousands of
Christian business men who would be glad of this chance.
They would then have a free hand, unhampered by the
system of unjust, not to say dishonest, competition.'"^
(ii.) What, then, is to be done ? We know from history
the method of Christianity in dealing with existing institu-
tions and customs, e.g., slavery. It first makes them, at
least, tolerable, and then proceeds either to transform or to
abolish them. So, now, in regard to the prevaiHng system
of trade competition, it would at once assume a quite
different complexion if only there were a more general
recognition of the simple duty of truthfulness. And surely
this much may be claimed dogmatically ! The Christian
appeal is, in the first instance, to the individual man of
business, and it says. Be honest yourself f Is this too heroic?
Is it too much to expect that the merchant should be as
chivalrous as the soldier? Certainly it will cost a man
something to be a Christian, for there is no reason to suppose
that the days of martyrdom are wholly past and gone. How-
ever, 'it is required in stewards, that a man be found faithful.'!
* A large number of the replies received from business men to the
above questions have been published in a pamphlet entitled ' Com-
mercial Morality' (Rivington, Percival and Co.).
f I Cor. iv. 2.
COMMERCIAL MORALITY 63
To illustrate my meaning, I may mention three details,
three practices which appear to be absolutely wrong, the
removal of which would mean an enormous change in
commercial life : (i) Adulteration of goods which cannot
reasonably be expected to be known to the buyer. (2) False
or misleading statements as to the quality or history of goods.
(3) Commissions to employes (as distinct from fees to com-
mission agents or brokers) when given as bribes for breaches
of trust. It would be easy to give definite instances of all
these immoral methods of transacting business, but, as
practical men, you will be able to supply these facts for
yourselves.
In the next place, I would urge organization for mutual
suppo7't. If we could discover the standard which the best
business men set before themselves, and form a strong
association for its maintenance, much might be accom-
plished towards the eUmination of unjust and dishonour-
able competition. Something has already been done in this
direction by the Chambers of Commerce, but there is need
of an educated and vigorous Christian public opinion over
a wider area. Perhaps I may add that one practical result
of some private conferences recently held between members
of the Christian Social Union and some prominent business
men will probably be the formation of a ' Fair - dealing
League,' and I should be glad to hear from anyone who
would be willing to help in such work.
So, then, I have nothing new to offer, no ' Morrison's
pill ' to obviate all further business anxieties, but simply the
old Christian warning, 'Putting away lying, speak every
man truth with his neighbour.' Oh, the shame of it ! That
it should be necessary in London to urge this as a fitting
lesson for Lent. Why all this chicanery ? Are we becoming
poorer? Is nature more niggardly? Is God less bountiful?
People prate about the decline of agriculture ; the ruin of
our foreign trade ; the depreciation of silver ; the lack of em-
ployment for willing workers, and the hard times generally.
64 COMMERCIAL MORALITY
But what are the facts? Distress there is certainly — ter-
rible, shameful distress in various parts of society — but
it is mainly due, as I believe, to our mismanagement of
God's bounty, our wastefulness, our abominable selfishness.
The wealth of England has been increasing at a much
greater rate than the population ; and at the present time we
are far more competent to support every man, woman, and
child in existence than at any previous period in the history
of the country.
Surely, then, we can afford to try some experiments. And
all I ask now is, that we should try the experiment of
honesty. Truth-telling has been a characteristic of the Eng-
lish race, and the splendid fabric of England's commercial
and industrial supremacy is still a proof that in the long-
run ' Honesty is the best policy.' But now we are more
than ever tempted to fall away from the high standard of
business integrity ; and the pressure that is upon us is not
so much the pressure of foreign competition as of that
nearer home. What we have to fear most is the reckless
competition of English capital, English brains and English
brawn, especially when uncontrolled by any moral prin-
ciples. And if only this trade competition could be re-
strained within something like reasonable limits, if only
the game could be played fairly with some regard for simple
truth and common honesty, the existing system would ap-
pear much more tolerable. If only we could dare to be
honest, it would bring steadiness to trade, it would take the
keen edge off this frantic struggle for wealth, and it would
tend to make us more like what I pray God we all would
wish to be — true men and loyal brothers in Jesus Christ.
COMMERCIAL MORALITY.
BY THE
REV. J. CARTER.
II.
' Therefore all things whatsoever
ye would that men should do to you,
do ye even so to them' — Matthew
vii. 12.
I WAS speaking yesterday of the claims of honesty ;
to-day I have to deal with the claims of brotherhood.
It is my duty to endeavour to emphasize the great
fact that Christian morality can never be satisfied
with merely preventing the most obvious forms of deceit and
dishonesty, but must go on to fulfil the whole law of Christ.
What, then, is the work that lies before us ?
First of all, I will mention, as briefly as possible, the
Christian method of trade and commerce ; secondly, I will
offer a few practical suggestions for your consideration and
judgment ; and, thirdly, I should like to say a few words by
way of encouragement.
I. What is the Christian method of business ? The main
object that we have to set before us is to substitute the
principle of co-operation for that of competition, or the
principle of socialism for that of individualism. You will
please observe that I am speaking of principles, I am not
now concerned with this or that system. The principle of
individualism is wholly unchristian and utterly discredited;
it is unchristian in that it appeals to self-interest, and it is
5
66 COMMERCIAL MORALITY
discredited because it is based upon two absurd fallacies.
It assumes that every man knows what is for his own true
interest and will follow it ; and again, that out of the clashing of
private interests the common welfare will result. Both these
assumptions are disproved by an appeal to history. We have,
therefore, nothing left but the moral principle of co-opera-
tion, which is at the root of all that is good in socialism, and
which bids us take as our common aim the fulfilment of
brotherly service.
For instance, let us consider from this point of view the
relation between buyer and seller. They have no right
whatsoever to try to overreach one another. On the con-
trary, if they are two Christian men, they should bring in
the principle of reciprocity, and their positions should be
interchangeable. The seller should not ask a higher price
for an article he wishes to sell than what he, knowing the
circumstances, would give if he were in the buyer's position.
On the other hand, the buyer should not endeavour to beat
down the price which the seller asks, by taking any unfair
advantage over him. The transaction should not be a
' bargain ' in the ordinary sense of a loss to one of the
parties concerned, but rather a fair exchange of mutual
benefit.
II. How are we to set about realizing our ideal ?
In trying to explain how this may be done, let me
speak, first, of the duty of the purchaser ; next, of the
duty of the seller; and, thirdly, of the duty of society.
{a) What is the duty of the purchaser ? Here we touch a
question which concerns everybody. The more one looks
into the present industrial conditions, the more one realizes
the tremendous responsibility that lies upon the ordinary
consumer. We find that the general public are more or
less devoured by a passion for cheapness. We must insist,
therefore, upon the duty of every individual not to be
satisfied by merely paying a price which those who sell an
article are willing to take. The purchaser should, if possible,
COMMERCIAL MORALITY 67
go behind that, and discover the conditions under which
wares offered for sale have been produced.
Here we are met with two objections. The first is,
How can I afford to do this ? After a lecture in Bethnal
Green some time ago on this subject, a man stood up and
asked, ' How can I afford to do what you say ? I must go to
the cheapest place I can find.' 'If you are a Christian
man,' was the reply, ' and the shirts you have on your back
mean the misery and degradation of your sisters, you
should sooner go without than wear them !' And he
could understand the principle when it was explained to
him, for he had just been on strike. He had dared to
subject his wife and children to the risk of starvation.
Why did he not rather take a lower wage ? For the sake
of his family, of his class, and of generations to come he was
wiUing to jeopardize his own life and the welfare of his
family. And he was right, and he must be prepared to do
the same thing again should similar circumstances arise.
The second objection is the difficulty of obtaining infor-
mation about trade conditions. But if we can induce a
sufficient number of the general public to have a con-
science on the subject, and to be wilHng to act up to
their conscience, then I am quite sure that practical men
will be only too ready to supply adequate information. We
have had some little experience of this in Oxford, where
such information has been provided in response to a demand
for the facts. Moreover, these remarks apply to that large
class of people who receive interest for capital invested in
some particular company or business, and who are to some
extent responsible for the conditions under which it is
carried on. It has been said in some quarters that this
would put a very serious and grievous burden upon the
Christian conscience. But as shareholders do not find it
difficult to give attention to their dividends in the case of
fraud or mismanagement, so they should consider also the
conditions of the company's employes, whence their profit
5—2
68 COMMERCIAL MORALITY
is derived. For instance, a few weeks ago I had a letter
from a shareholder in a certain railway company, asking if
he should give up his shares, because the company was treat-
ing its employes in a way he could not justify. The
answer in this case was, of course, ' No ; your responsi-
bility is limited ; you are only responsible for your vote
and influence. Stay where you are, and, when the oppor-
tunity occurs, use your vote and influence for securing
better terms for the workmen.'
{b) What is the duty of the seller ? Here again time will
only allow me to deal with two or three salient points, which
I will endeavour to define by way of negatives. For
example, there are three sins against the law of brother-
hood which are not uncommonly committed by business
men. It seems impossible to justify a merchant in selling at
absolutely less than cost price in order to injure his com-
petitors, excepting only in a few special cases in which this
practice may be legitimate, as, for instance, when there is
some great fluctuation in the market, or when the seller is
compelled to do so in self-defence by unjust competition.
Again, it is hardly moral for either a trading company or an
individual capitalist already established in trade to undersell
competitors with an idea in the long-run of getting a
monopoly, and then raising prices. Further, there is that
large field of speculation in ' futures ' and ' options,' which
seems to me to be nothing short of gambling of the worst
kind. In fact, the results of this system are so disastrous
that an ' Anti-option Bill ' has been proposed in America,
simply to make it illegal for a man to sell what he has not
got. All this artificial buying and selling of things which
do not exist is bound in the long-run to oppress the real
producer, and really means robbing other people of their
property.*
{c) What is the duty of society ? First of all, we have to
conceive the idea which mediaeval Churchmen expressed in
* Cf. 'Commercial Gambling,' by C. W. Smith.
COMMERCIAL MORALITY 69
the term, j'ushim pretium. Goods offered for sale should be
sold at a fair price ; and this implies an adequate wage for
the producer which will provide him with the means of living
a decent life both morally and materially. Then we have to
consider how far it is possible to maintain, or even to raise
our standards, through the power of association for a common
end. It is true, comparing modern with mediaeval con-
ditions, that our theory of value is much more subjective
than was theirs, and that the various grades of society were
much more clearly defined in the Middle Ages than now.
But at least we can keep before our minds the great principle
that under given conditions every article has a fair and just
price. This principle is by no means an innovation ; it has
been struggling for recognition all along. And we can mark
our advance in this direction by observing, as we travel east-
wards, that business is more and more settled by the mere
'higgling of the market.' Moreover, we have in England
taken a notable step towards the determination of price
during the last few months. The recent crisis in the coal
trade has brought prominently forward the need of some
Hmit to the practice of ' cutting ' rates, which has found
expression in the popular phrase, ' a living wage.' The
phrase is ambiguous, and is obviously open to abuse ; it
would perhaps be better to speak of 'a standard wage,'
which may be raised, and which possibly may have to fall.
But at all events we require some standard to act as a barrier
against unregulated and unscrupulous competition. And to
secure this, and to maintain fair and honourable conditions
of trade, it is evident that we cannot trust to individual
employers, or to individual workmen, or to this or that class
by itself What we want is a strong and well-disciplined
organization of the masters, and an equally strict and com-
prehensive organization of the men ; we want to see these
rival associations uniting together on a board of concihation,
made up of an equal number of members from either side,
for the purpose of satisfactory settlement of trade disputes.
70 COMMERCIAL MORALITY
If this is not sufficient at a crisis, we must have some super-
vision or control on the part of the State as representing the
whole community, or the active influence of an organization
of consumers resolute to support the best of the masters and
of the men in securing just conditions. If we do not get this
organization in a rational and Christian way, it will come
in an irrational and unchristian way. We have only to
look across the Atlantic, where individualism has had free
play, to see how the commerce of that great country is con-
trolled by gigantic combinations owned by a very small
section of the community ; which state of things a good
many men in America feel is wholly against the best interests
of the country.
III. I have been forced to speak very rapidly, so that I
might at least touch upon a few of the main points, all of
which bristle with difficulties. But I fully realize how
complex these problems are, and how exceeding slow our
progress will be. Therefore, it may be as well for me to
speak a word of encouragement by reminding you of the
fact that I am not making an appeal which has never
been made to Christian men before, nor asking the Church
to do what the Church has not done again and again.
For instance, in Italy, at the end of the eleventh century,
a great development of trade was going on, and in order
to explain the new conditions that arose, it was necessary to
develop a new jurisprudence. From the Roman law, two
theories were extracted which were used to justify the
ordinary customs of business men. One was the theory of
the absolute right of private property in the unchristian
sense that a man has a right to do what he likes with his
own. The other was the recognition of an unlimited freedom
of contract apart from any previous moral considerations.
In this way they endeavoured to justify the ordinary course
of trade, and I need not tell you that a society based on
two such principles is sure to come to grief In order
to cope with these evil tendencies, Churchmen began a fresh
COMMERCIAL MORALITY 71
consideration of economic questions. They studied the
facts, they applied their Christian principles, and formulated
rules for the guidance of conduct. They made their appeal
to the individual conscience, and with such good effect that
finally practical men in their various secular organizations
were moved to regulate these matters more in accordance
with Christian morality.-^ And now once more this appears
to be just the sort of work that earnest Christians are called
upon to perform. The professors of political economy
are quite clear about their own special work. They say, ' We
merely state facts. The existing methods of trade may be
moral or immoral ; the results good or bad. We leave it
to men of conscience and common-sense to decide what
Christian men of business ought to do.' And though the
task is not an easy one and the difficulties are consider-
able, there is at the same time every reason to be en-
couraged. Whichever way we turn there is opportunity
for us to do something deliberately, systematically, and
unitedly, in the directions indicated.
Let me briefly conclude with two quotations. On the
one hand, in regard to the responsibility of society as a
whole, we have Professor Marshall writing that ' Public
opinion, based on sound economics and just morality, will,
it may be hoped, become ever more and more the arbiter of
the conditions of industry.'! And, on the other hand, with
a view to encouraging our hopefulness, we have been recently
reassured by the Bishop of Durham that ' There is about
us enough spiritual force and action to win the world,' but,
alas ! it is so ' dispersed, undisciplined, undirected.' + There-
fore the duty that hes upon us now is to summon the forces
at our command, and to concentrate our energies. Above
all let us understand that the grace of God does not fail as
it comes down through thefages. His power is still with us,
* Cf. Ashley's ' Economic History,' book i,, chap. iii.
f ' Economics of Industry,' p. 41 1,
X 'The Incarnation and Common Life,' p. 14.
72 COMMERCIAL MORALITY
and is as strong as ever to inspire and brace the human will.
The claim our Lord makes upon business men to-day is the
same as that which He laid upon His first followers. It is
expressed in the principle which mediaeval theologians ap-
phed so successfully to the economic problems of their own
generation. And it should be the regulative test of the
Christian conduct of trade and commerce now, ' All things
whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even
so to them.'
WAGES.
REV. WILLIAM CUNNINGHAM, D.D.,
FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE ; AND PROFESSOR OF
POLITICAL ECONOMY, KING's COLLEGE, LONDON.
' The labourer is worthy of his
hire.'—^T. LuKE x. lo.
THERE are different ways in which our religion
may come to influence our conduct towards our
neighbours. It may sometimes point out
kindnesses that we ought to do, from love to
God, towards our fellow -creatures — virtues which we
might not feel bound to cultivate at all, if it were not
for the teaching and example of our Lord ; and sometimes
our Christian belief serves, not to point out new duties, but
to give us better reasons and stronger motives for doing the
ordinary moral duties, which good men of any creed and
any time have recognised as binding upon them. It is
well, I think, that we should try to keep these two distinct
in our minds, to see, at least, how far ordinary morality will
carry us — the morality of the man who makes no profession
of religion — before we go on to consider what is specifically
Christian.
This distinction is drawn for us pointedly by the old-
fashioned proverb which bids us be Just before we are
generous. In thinking about duty in regard to wages, we
have to do primarily w^ith what is Just, not so much with
what is generous or philanthropic or charitable. The labourer
74 WAGES
is worthy of his hire. We have to try ourselves by considera-
tions oi Justice, and not, in the first instance, at any rate, by
any sentiment of kindliness or self-sacrifice or brotherly
love. These have their place, too, as we shall presently
see ; but the fundamental ethical question is not one of
pity for the poor or help for the needy, but oi Justice between
man and man, justice to be done all the more carefully and
eagerly by the professing Christian, but still justice as
recognised and understood by all.
I. The accusation of injustice in our existing social
arrangements is frequently uttered and readily repeated.
We continually hear that the labourer ought ' to have a
larger share of the wealth which his labour creates.' Viewed
as a simple question of justice, it seems a very difficult one
to pronounce upon. If, as some ignorant* people think —
and the language of Adam Smith gives at least some
apparent economic authority for their opinion — manual
labour, alone and unassisted, were the sole factor in the
production of wealth, there would be little more to be said
from the point of view of justice ; but, though a necessary
element, labour is not by any means the only necessary
element. Our whole industrial organization is very com-
plicated ; the manual labourer has not either the means or
the opportunity of labouring by himself and on his own
account. The capitalist, who may often be a sleeping
partner, supplies the means — materials, and tools ; the em-
ployer, who manages the business, and who may be either
a capitalist, or the agent of the capitalists, takes orders
and hires men ; he supplies opportunity of working. It is
possible that some better method of supplying the manual
worker with the means of labour and the opportunity of
labour may be found, though personally I have little ex-
* This phrase does not, so far as I see, and certainly was not meant
to, apply to scientific socialists who would reconstitute society altogether,
but to persons I have met who accept the present constitution of society,
and yet advocate changes w^hich are incompatible with its continued
existence.
WAGES 75
pectation of any very immediate or substantial alteration
in this respect. But the question is whether, under these
existing conditions of industry, the reward of labour is just.
And this question involves many problems of great difficulty.
I. (<^) In the first place, it is not easy for any outsider like
myself to know what the division is, at the present time, in
any trade. Partly owing to the credit system, and partly
owing to other circumstances, there is a decided, and
possibly a necessary, reticence on the part of employers
and capitalists as to the profits of business. Even in those
cases of joint -stock concerns, where the accounts are
printed and sent to the shareholders, it is not usual to give
such details as enable the outsider to judge what the division
really is. This reticence seems to me very much to be
regretted ; there may, of course, be good and sufficient
reasons for it of which I am unaware, but it serves to en-
gender the suspicion that profits and salaries are unduly
large, and that suspicion is hkely to continue and grow so
long as the concealment is maintained.
{/?) Another difficulty is this — the functions performed
by the manual labourer, the capitalist, and the employer,
are all necessary, but they are very different ; it is extremely
difficult to compare them with one another, or to say at
what ratio they ought to be respectively rewarded. The
disagreeables of the labourer's lot are obvious — hard physical
toil, with risk of accident to hfe and limb, and very insecure
tenure of his employment ; generosity or charity may well
take these into account, but mere justice has rather to con-
sider the importance of his personal contribution to the
total result, as compared with the importance of the personal
contributions of others ; each element is necessary, but
some are more difficult to procure than others — just as air
and food are alike necessary for life, but food is harder to
secure than air; and justice must take this kind of considera-
tion into account. It has to weigh against one another
according to their respective importance, and therefore
76 WAGES
their fair reward — the physical work of the labourer, the
me7ital work of the employer, and the enterprise of the
capitaHst in undertaking the pecuniary risks of business.
It seems to me very hard to say how such incommensurable
elements should be rewarded respectively; but perhaps I
may point out, in passing, that if one looks back over a
century or two it is clear that the rate of the reward of
enterprise is steadily declining ; also that, with the invention
of machinery, manual skill is no longer of such predominant
importance in production as it once was, while the skill and
organizing faculties of the employer are far more taxed than
was ever the case before ; business capacity is the one of the
three necessary elements which now seems to be of increased
importance, and to receive a greatly increased rate of reward.
{c) All such calculations are, however, beset by a third
difficulty ; where, as in a very large proportion of businesses,
the employer works with his own capital, it is impossible for
outsiders, and it may be difficult for him, to assess the re-
ward he draws as employer (for wages of management), and
the reward he gets as capitalist for the money invested in the
business. Again, as the labourer always gets paid something,
while the capitalist sometimes makes losses, and sometimes
gets large gains, it is very difficult to compare the actual
remuneration, on the whole, of those who reap their reward
in such different forms.
Under these circumstances, it seems as if it were hardly
possible to take such obscure and complicated considera-
tions into account, and to get at the justice of the case.
There is, however, one way in which we may, I think, cut
the knot ; we may find a rough-and-ready test of justice, or
rather, perhaps, of injustice, by looking at expediency. We
may frame this canon, that what is expedient for any business
as a whole, is not obviously U7ijust for any of the partners in
that business. It is expedient for any business, on the whole,
that each of the three necessary factors should be adequately
supplied and maintained; it is expedient that capital should
WAGES 77
be so rewarded that there may be money available for the
development and expansion of business ; it is expedient
that business capacity should be so rewarded that men of
energy and enterprise should be willing to devote them-
selves to the management of its affairs ; it is well that labour
should be so rewarded that the workman may be vigorous
in mind and body, and thoroughly at his best. And, tried
by this test, it may at least be doubted if the two elements
which are largely rewarded are over-rewarded, or get more
than what is expedient. It is at least arguable that the
present prospects of the reward of capital are such, that it is
not readily forthcoming for the farther development of rail-
way enterprise. It is obvious that the high salaries paid for
business capacity in that line of hfe are paid to men who
have worked their way up, and proved themselves to be
worth the money. Tried by this test, it is hard to say that
either the capitalist or the employer gets foo inuch^ or has an
unjustly large share.
2. But even if this be true, there seem to be grounds for
urging that the labourer gets too little ; it seems as if the
employer and the capitalist, with their requirements, were
first taken account of, and the labourer had to be satisfied
with the leavings. To some extent this has been, to some
extent it is, true. We must therefore fall back on those
farther questions. How far is it true that the labourer gets
too little? What test can we apply to see whether the
labourer is unjustly treated and does not get enough ?
And, so far as I see, the best test we can apply is a
physical one ; the labourer gets enough if he has the
material means of being at his best ; kept in good health,
vigorous, and alert in mind and body, and able to maintain
a home in which he can rear vigorous, intelligent, and moral
children to succeed him in time. Efficieticy present and to
come is the test of sufficiency. If the labourer is so fed and
clothed that he cannot work vigorously ; if he is over-
strained, so that he becomes prematurely old ; if his children
78 WAGES
are decrepit and miserably fed, so that they never grow up
to be fit for hard and regular work^ — then, assuredly, he has
too little. On the causes and possible cure I may have
more to say ; but at the moment let me add that I think
the verdict of the casual observer in this country at present
would be, that some labourers are paid sufficiently to enable
them and their children to be efficient, and that some are
not. Let us think a little of each in turn.
(a) For those who in the present day enjoy a ' sufficiency
of wages,' those who are sometimes spoken of as the aristo-
cracy of labour, there is one thing worth remembering. We
are still viewing it all as a question of justice — mere justice.
T/ie labourer is worthy of his hire. Yes, he ought to be ;
but is he ? Is every man's work worth the money that is
paid him ? If he gets sufficient wage, does he do efficient
labour for it ? There are many complaints rife of men who
are incompetent, of men who shirk and scamp, who idle, out
of an ignorant desire to make work for the unemployed.
For the apostolic maxim, 'That if any would not work,
neither should he eat,' has a double bearing : it does pro-
nounce a condemnation on those who, relieved from the
task of providing for personal needs, do not set themselves
to do service in some fashion to God and man, but live in
laziness. But it also condemns those who, taking the wages
of labour, yet idle away their time. Assuredly, if justice
demands that the labourer should get a sufficient wage, it
insists, not less imperatively, that he shall do the work for
which he is paid efficiently and well.
{b) For here, at least, justice and expediency coincide ;
we may all welcome every possible step in progress,
every raising of the standard of comfort of the working
man in every branch of industry. But for those classes of
labour which have sufficient at present, there is only one
way in which a farther improvement can come by increased
efficiency. If there is a larger net result of the combined
energy of employers and employed, there will be more for
WAGES 79
each ; there is a possibihty of an increased reward for labour
which can be permanently maintained, because it is really
earned. But an increased reward, which neither arises
from nor calls forth increased efficiency, is hardly likely to
be maintained ; it is likely to attract outsiders to migrate
and compete for this highly-paid work, and there will be
difficulty in excluding them. Or it may be secured at the
expense of the capitalist and employers, or at the expense
of the public ; and in either case there is a danger of an
injury to the trade which may react on the wage-earner.
For instance, a limitation of hours, which does 7iot call forth
more efficiency, but merely distributes employment among
more hands, and produces the same result at greater ex-
pense to capitalists or the public, is likely to injure the
trade, and to afford, before many months elapse, less regular
employment than before. For, indeed, the days of privilege
have gone by ; no class of workers can secure and maintain
specially favourable conditions for itself, at the expense of
the public and to the exclusion of other workers, unless it
can prove its title by superior efficiency. An improved
wage thus secured, thus justly won, is a real gain ; but any
attempt of those, whose wages are sufficient, to secure a
larger reward without increased efficiency and at the expense
either of the public or the employers, is of doubtful expe-
diency ; it does not seem to be a just demand.
{c) We have seen in what direction we must look for the
improvement of the wages of those who have sufficient ; we
shall find that a very similar reason accounts for the starva-
tion wages which too many others are compelled to take ;
their wages are iiisifficietit^ because they themselves are
i?tefficient ; they may be very laborious and industrious, but
what they do is some trivial, mechanical work, quickly
learned and easily done. And hence it seems that there
is a sense in which starvation wages are not unjust — not
unjust as between man and man ; the work done is worth
little, and as a mere matter of justice it cannot be highly
8o WAGES
paid. To insist that we ought to pay more than the market
rate for work, is to appeal to the kindness of the charitable,
but no such obligation is incumbent on any man out of
mere justice.
3. This seems to be a hard doctrine, and there need be
no surprise that many are at present inclined to urge that
justice, in an extended sense, demands that all who labour
hard and long shall be able to secure in return the neces-
saries and decencies of life. This is the feeUng that lies
at the bottom of much of the demand for a living wage."^
When this demand is made on behalf of the lowest and
least well paid portion of the population, as if it were a
duty for public authority to step in and ensure them a
sufficiency by law, we are bound to scrutinize the proposal
closely.
{a) A good deal of isolated evidence can be adduced in
favour of this proposal ; there can be no doubt that an
attempt of this kind might, in some circumstances and in
some trades, produce beneficial results. There are cases
where people, if they were better paid, would be able to do
better work, and the raising of their wages would be econo-
mically successful, since it would call forth more efficiency.
I have often heard this alleged as proved by experience in
certain classes of agricultural labour.
{b) Nor need we be deterred from the experiment by the
fear that some trades would be killed off altogether. If
they cannot be maintained in this country, except on terms
which are permanently degrading to a section of the popu-
lation, it is at least a question whether they should be main-
tained at all. There is no real kindness in inducing men
to stick to a dying trade — as the handloorn weavers stuck
to their calling, and starved at it. The line taken by the
* ' The endeavour to fix a living wage from time to time in trades
that have a sufficiency on the whole, so as to prevent the rate of reward
falling below that level, seems to me to be quite on a different footing
from any proposal to introduce a living wage as a means of elevating
the sweated classes.' — Contemporary Review, January, 1894.
WAGES 8i
men who insisted on passing the great Factory Acts was
that it would be better that the cotton trade should be
destroyed than that it should continue under the then
existing conditions. On this principle we may still take
our stand,
(c) But still I can have no hope for the success of any
attempt to raise the standard of comfort of the poorest
classes by merely insisting that they shall be better paid.
For, after all, to give a man more money is to give him an
opportunity— there is no security that he will take advantage
of ^ it. The mere offering of opportunities does not in itself
bring about improvement ; if things were readjusted so that
opportunities of rising were always available, this very fact
might even engender greater carelessness about making the
most of them. If we think of the past and of the present,
we shall see how many existing opportunities of rising are
misused ; how some are inclined to take out any additional
gain in mere idleness, and some in excess of one kind or
another, and some in improvident marriage. I do not
speak harshly of such human weakness, I note it as a
fact— a fact that is familiar enough to everyone—for who
among us is not aware that he has wasted some of his
opportunities, and thrown away some of his chances by
carelessness and folly ? To provide the opportunity of im-
provement is much, but it is not enough ; it certainly is
not all that is needed ; and when we see what a little way it
would take us, how much disorganization it must cause, how
much temptation it would offer, how little good it would en-
sure, we can only say that what is so little expedient cannot
be really right.
II. Is there, then, no way out of the trouble, no hope be-
fore us ? None that I see so long as we confine ourselves
to the thought of justice, and the mere endeavour to carry
this plain duty into effect. No simple appeal to mere
justice will take us very far when we once see that there is
a question of elevating a large section of the population to a
6
82 WAGES
better condition, material, intellectual, and moral. No cut-
and-dry formula will solve the difficulty of really raising
them. We must go to something else than justice; we
must rely on a principle that is characteristically, if not
exclusively, Christian — on charity or i philanthropy. Justice
does not demand that we should continue unweariedly to
offer opportunities of improvement to those who may mis-
use them ; but charity does, charity beareth all things, be-
lieveth all things, hopeth all things. It is not easily provoked,
it is not easily discouraged — only such a principle as this can
persist unweariedly in the task before us.
And if that task is to be accomplished, charity must be
not only enthusiastic and hopeful, but wise ; we must add
knowledge to zeal. It is terrible to think how much mis-
chief has been done and misery brought about by careless
and ignorant kindness. The African slave trade to America
is a monument of the evil that well-meaning philanthropy
may do : it was introduced by a man who desired to relieve
the American of arduous work for which he was unfitted,
and to substitute a stronger race. The degraded pauperism
of the beginning of this century was the direct result of
the well-meaning philanthropy of magistrates who relaxed
the stringency of poor-law administration in a time of tem-
porary distress — a proved act of folly which some seem
ready to repeat. Above all, let us remember this — ^justice
may lay down and apply a general principle, but it cannot
be so in the same way with charity, for charity cannot ac-
complish its task wholesale ; it must be discriminating, and
personal, and careful, if it is to find out the best way of
giving the poorest and the most degraded a better chance,
over and over again.
And if we thus turn to Christianity for the principle that
can afford opportunity, we shall also find in it a power to
call forth effort to use any new opportunity ; there is help
which is characteristically, if not exclusively. Christian on
this side also. Here we can find an ideal of life, an ideal
WAGES 83
which we shall never outlive, for it is supernatural, and yet
an ideal which floats but a little way before us, which is
visualized and depicted in terms of earthly things — we look
for a new and a better earth. And as our religion affords
an ideal to kindle enthusiasm, so, too, it can, not less truly,
supply the strength to struggle undauntedly on, to rise
above hopelessness, to overcome passion, to shake off the
evil that besets men and keeps them down. The miseries
of the world reappear in new and changing forms, but the
old remedies are at hand — more faith in the power of Christ,
more hope for the triumph of Christ, more likeness to the
loving nature of Christ. These we may rely on, and they
cannot fail, for there is indeed a Name given whereby men
may be saved from degradation, as from every other ev
thing.
6—2
THE UNEMPLOYED.
REV. CANON BARNETT,
WARDEN OF TOYNBEE HALL.
^ And Nathan said to David, Thou
art the inan.^ — 2 Samuel xii. 7.
A
N enchantment seems to lie on the land. Work
is waiting to be done ; workers are waiting to
do the work; capital is waiting employment.
Streets, for want of cleaning or repair, threaten
the public health ; and buildings, for want of decoration
or variety, depress energy. Hands, which might clean
away the dirt and make beauty, are unemployed ; and
capital, which might use the unemployed hands, lies idle.
Work, workers, capital, are waiting. It seems, as in the old
fairy tales, as if only a touch were wanting to break the en-
chantment and set capital on employing the workers to do
the work. It seems as if one impulse might substitute the
buzz of happy industry for the sullen silence of idleness.
As in the fairy tales, there are many aspirants to give the
touch which will break the enchantment. They come with
their scheme or their nostrum, their ballot-box or their dyna-
mite, and they claim that they are the saviours of society
who will provide for the unemployed.
We are here to-day as Christians to consider this strange
condition. We put ourselves, therefore, first of all, in the
presence of Christ. We turn from the sight of the want
and the waste ; we give up being anxious and careful about
many things, that we may sit for a moment at the feet of
THE UNEMPLOYED
85
Christ. Christian work must begin with Christian prayer.
In Christ's presence there is peace. Our passion of
humanity becomes no less, but our patience becomes
greater. Our hearts are still on fire, but the fire is
restrained. Fire which will not bear restraint will never
burn ; ana Paul, the most passionate of Apostles, preached,
' Let your moderation be known among all men.' Calm,
therefore, from the presence of Christ we come back to
consider the world in which we live, with its idle and unem-
ployed, its waste and its want.
1. We see that modern society is not altogether bad and
corrupt. Some of its members may be degraded by wealth
or by poverty ; some may suffer for want of work ; but the
majority of the people are occupants of happy homes. Ex-
cessive poverty is no more common than excessive wealth,
and there is more of good-will than of ill-will among men.
Unhappiness, like disease, is the exception ; happiness, like
wealth, is the rule. A poet is wanted to tell of the life
lived in the houses which demurely face London and
suburban streets — the simple family life of hard work and
fireside happiness — where the rare pleasure is a stimulant
and not a drug, where love, cherished by daily contact,
bears its burdens as a joy, and shows itself in kindly thoughts
and gentle charities. There are few sweeter sights on earth
than a workman's home, and there is a sort of blasphemy
in the exaggerations which speak of universal wretchedness.
Reformers may weep over London as Jesus wept over
Jerusalem ; but they may go, as Jesus went, to simple
homes where they may find rest and refreshment for body
and mind, as they watch the housewife neatly busy, as they
hear the children laugh, or spend the quiet evening-hour in
reading or in talk.
2. While peace and calm still rule our vision, we see also
that the unemployed are not what passion or pity pictures
them. The vast majority are not capable, skilled men who
have no work to do ; and those who have no work are not
86 THE UNEMPLOYED
always those who want work. Inquiry shows that in trades
unions making monthly returns only about seven per cent, of
their members are out of work, for all causes, at the worst
season of the year.
Inquiry further shows that many who register themselves
as unemployed are unfit for work. They have not the
strength, the physical and mental capacity, to meet modern
requirements ; or they have not the character — the self-
restraint — to be punctual or sober. Where work has been
offered, as at Leeds and Millbank, it has been found that
ninety per cent, of the applicants have been of this casual
class — men who by choice or incapacity have been unable
to do continuous work.
Lastly, it is obvious that, among all classes of society,
there are some men who will not work — confirmed loafers,
who live on the carelessness of society or their families.
The unemployed, calmly considered, is not an army of
willing workers ; but is rather a body largely made up of
those half employed, those unfit for employment, and those
unwilHng to be employed. As Mr. C. Booth has said,
' Lack of work is not really the disease, and the mere pro-
vision of it is therefore useless as a cure.' There is, doubt-
less, a minority ready for regular work and unable to find
it ; but these do not make the mass whose numbers over-
whelm thought.
Those reformers are wrong who would upset society, and
destroy the happy homes of the many, in the hope of find-
ing work for the unemployed.
The patience of our Lord's Passion — His dignity. His
restraint. His calm — makes it impossible for His followers
to be mere revolutionists or railing accusers of the ignor-
ant and selfish. ' He that believeth shall not make haste.'
' In patience possess ye your souls.' On the other hand,
the sacrifice of our Lord — His devotion. His enthusiasm,
His care for the least. His gift of Himself for the lowest —
makes it impossible for His followers to do nothing. ' Fight
THE UNEMPLOYED 87
the good fight.' * Be vigilant.' ' Man must be a fighter
ever.' If there is one unhappy amid the ninety-nine who
are happy, if there is one who is wretched, wilful, lazy, or
drunken, amid the crowd of the wiUing and sober, the
Christian must leave the ninety-nine and go after the one.
The most undeserving has the greatest claim.
They who take Christ into themselves are bound to be
here as those who serve. We may see that struggle and
death work out good ; we may mark the exaggerations of en-
thusiasts or partisans ; but as long as we see one brother in
need, the memory of our Lord's gift constrains us. He gave
Himself, and we must give ourselves. The Christian's
question is always, ' Master, what can I do ?'
Systems which have done most to raise humanity have
not been those which have stirred anger against society, or
levelled accusations against a class with the cry of, ' Ours
the rights, yours the faults.' Systems which have advanced
the world have been those which have roused a man against
himself, forced the confession, ' Mine the fault,' and raised
the cry of Duty. They, as Mazzini has taught us, who fight
only for their rights forget their duties to others, and become
in their turn tyrants.
Successful reforms have always been in essence puritan
—the work of men who, as individuals, have fought
evil in themselves. Christianity aims to purify the indi-
vidual. It says to him when he accuses others, 'Judge
thyself.' It calls him to begin with self-reform— to take the
beam out of his own eye if he would take the mote from
his brother's eye. Its teaching is, 'Thou must be born
again.' And, as Dean Stanley says, ' " Thou art the man "
is or ought to be— expressed or unexpressed— the conclusion
of every practical sermon.'
Christ still leads His followers one by one, and he who
feels His presence asks, not, ' What ought they to do ?' but,
' What can I do ?'
As citizen, as employer, as employed, as neighbour—
88 THE UNEMPLOYED
each who calls himself Christian must ask, ' What can I do
for the unemployed ?'
1. As a citizen I can vote for the general interest, and not
for that of myself or my class. The privileges of a few
make the hardship of the many. If the privileges by which
some benefit were removed, there might be more work for
others. I can vote for better education. If everyone had
his intellect awakened and his tastes developed, there would
not be so many incapable of responsibility, or so unfit for
country life. I can vote for the provision of training for
the unskilled and of discipHne for the unwilling. It is want
of strength or skill which prevents many from doing work.
If another chance of acquiring such skill were offered,
there might be more men fit to relieve those who are now
overworked. If each voter in his vote bore others' burdens
— fulfilling the law of Christ — some needs of the unem-
ployed would be met.
2. As an employer I can see that every one I employ re-
ceives a wage adequate to support life. It is not sufficient
to give the market rate or even what the union requires.
The responsibility is the employer's. He is not justified if
a woman receives los. or 12s. a week. He knows this wage
is inadequate to support life in its sickness and age. It is
not sufficient either for a member of a company to throw
the responsibility on the shareholders ; he is himself respon-
sible, and must agitate for adequate wages as for an adequate
dividend. If each employer thought of his servant as Christ
thinks of him, the half employed would not now offer a sight
so disgraceful to our humanity.
3. As employed I can see that I put in good work, keep
regular hours and fill up my time. The example of irre-
gularity and the practice of dawdUng so as to spin out
jobs, or of scamping so as to insure their renewal, en-
courage weaker natures in courses which lead to loss of
work. Many of the unemployed owe their condition to the
bad example of their first shops. If each Christian did his
THE UNEMPLOYED 89
work with all his might, as for God and not for man, there
would be fewer wayward and unstable characters unable to
do continuous work.
4. As a neighbour I can befriend a neighbour. Every-
body knows one who is weak, wilful, or drunken ; let him
devote himself to that one with the persistency and the
faithfulness and the sympathy of Christ ; let him leave off
dealing with masses and giving to beggars ; let him hold on
to the one, till by sacrifice of money, time, or holidays, he
co?ivmces him of his care. A limit would soon be put on
his luxury which absorbs capital and embitters human rela-
tions. How could he who cared for his neighbour, and
believed that money might help his need, spend that money
on fancy foods or fancy furniture ? Love is the only con-
queror. The rich man who knows his poor neighbour,
not by reports but as a friend, will not use in ostentation
the wealth by which the neighbour could be strengthened.
The poor man who knows his rich neighbour, not by sub-
scription lists or gifts, but as a friend, will be conscious of
a new force urging him to hope and effort. If every one
who calls himself Christian would convince his neighbour
not simply of his goodwill, but of a love which beareth
all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth
all things, many a man who is hopeless and therefore unem-
ployed, would become a happy worker. Conviction of love
is the first step in conversion.
Christians as citizens, as employers, as employed, as
neighbours, must do all these things and more than these
things. Christianity does not provide a code of social
duty. It does not say what is the limit of luxury, and it
does not fix the living wage. Christianity is Christ's spirit,
and it is too large to be shut up in any law or set of rules.
Christ's spirit is always progressing, guiding men into new
truth. It attacks the individual, taking by storm this man
to-day, that man to-morrow ; its presence is first visible in
the rise of public opinion, and afterwards it takes shape in
law or rules of conduct. But the law and the rules are only
90 THE UNEMPLOYED
for a time, they have to be repealed when the progress-
ing spirit requires actions which are higher and more
loving. Each Christian, as a follower of Christ, must obey
His spirit, if the common action — the law — is to be helpful.
Individual responsibility is the corner-stone of progress.
We as Christians beheve that it is not just a leader, a
great social reformer, a devoted man, who calls us to help
the weak. We believe that the voice of God speaks
through Christ. The Almighty has through the ages
thundered out His wrath against the selfish and the care-
less. He has sought the successful in the hour of
their pride and their security. He has asked the question,
' Where is thy brother ?' Nations and individuals have
dared to answer, ' Am I my brother's keeper ?' and they,
daring, have been cast out and overthrown. Their epitaph
may always be read, ' He was not here as one who served.'
The Almighty has declared His will amid thunder and
lightning, by the decline and fall of nations, in the strife of
war and in the despair of the fallen, but He has let His will
reach us through Christ. By the pressure of that presence
each man is drawn to love ; by the voice which speaks to him
as to an individual, he is summoned to serve his neighbour;
by a call which is directed straight to himself and to no
other, he is sent to do his work. God reaches the indi-
vidual through His Son, and through the individual comes
universal happiness.
We, men and w^omen, individuals distinct in thought,
feeling, and experience, stand amid the unemployed,
'the vast army of the homeless and unfed.' Our hearts
are moved by the sight of such sorrow, and our anger
is roused that such starvation should be in the midst
of plenty. ' Why,' we ask, ' do these little ones suffer ?'
' Why are these desolate and unfriended ?' ' Why are there
so many weak, vicious and bitter ?' ' Surely they who by
their selfishness have caused these things shall be punished.'
Who are they ? A voice which whispers to each of us,
' Thou art the man !' is the voice of God.
WOMEN'S WORK.
BY THE
REV. E. HOSKYNS,
RECTOR OF STEPNEY.
'■Son, behold thy itwther.'—ST.
John xix. 27.
APPROACH the subject with one or two prelimi-
nary questions.
What is our idea of woman ?
Subdivide :
a. What is an employer's idea of woman ?
b. What is a working man's idea of woman ?
c. What is woman's idea of woman ?
It is impossible for me to answer such questions; but
when one reads such a Blue-book as that lately issued on
women's work, the question is forced home again and again :
What has an employer passing through his mind when he
seems by his action to say, ' I must have this or that for
men, but anything is good enough for women— any wages,
any hours, any standard of comfort, any sanitation ' ?
Or, again, what is passing through the minds of our work-
ing men, even our trades unionists, when they fight for their
own hand and grasp their eight-hours day or forty-eight hours
a week, but let their young daughters slave for seventy-four
to eighty hours, and their wives needle-drive until eleven and
twelve at night ?
And yet once more, what is woman's idea of woman,
when she seems to hug the position into which she is
92 WOMEN'S WORK
placed, and take as her due the office of hewer of wood
and drawer of water, or that of a scolded housekeeper, not
a wife ? How soon this acceptance of a low standard leads
to all loss of modesty and true womanhood we know too
well.
Generally speaking, I assert that man's view of woman is'
low, and that you will see the effect of such a view most
clearly in the conditions under which man is willing that
woman should work. True that we want laws ; but above
all we want ' gentlemen,' and that not confined to any class
or rank, but managers, husbands, foremen, officials, whose
conduct is considerate and gentle towards woman.
It is our duty as men — it ought to be our pride— to guard
women against the crushing weight of manufactural stress.
For us to seize the advantages, and to place woman as a
buffer to bear the burdens and to receive into her bosom
all the sharpest pangs of labour-pressure — this is beneath
contempt.
Brothers, for a moment let us consider various reasons
why, when we ask woman to work for us, we should be
considerate.
I. What a debt of gratitude we owe to woman, and this
quite apart from her position as mother !
Think of that wonderful profession for women — the nurses
of our childhood, the daughters of our working men — so
faithful, so patient, so noble in their self-denial !
Or, again, call to mind that army of teachers into whose
hands is given the moulding of our children, and destined
to become even still more the guardians of our boys in the
lower standards of our boys' schools.
Or, again, have we no feelings of gratitude as we remember
that noble profession of deaconness and sister, of nurses
in hospital, in home, in parish, bringing to the sick and
wearied of our cities not only skill, but oftentimes a love
which these poor men have, as they say, never tasted before?
Or, when we look out on the great world of commerce, in
WOMEN'S WORK 93
counting-house, in work-room, in factory, what a place must
we give to women ! See them streaming from every street
converging on the City, hear the clang of the wooden
shoon in the North, all adding to the national wealth, all
serving us men in ways which touch us at every point, and
then say whether gratitude is not deserved.
2. But gratitude by itself will not survive the daily rush
and turmoil of the factory. Your young employer, your
anxious foreman, only sees hands, hands, hands— not a face,
not a body, not a life, which can grow weary ; but hands
which are nimble and do the work quickly, and grasp less
on the Saturday than the hand of a man.
It is not reason to expect that gratitude is enough here,
and so we appeal to men for sympathy. We ask men, and
especially employers of labour, working men, and the
purchasing public, to remember the simple fact that woman
is physically weaker than man for that kind of labour too
often put upon her, and that the results of overstrain are
far more terrible in the case of woman. Hence, from an
economic view, the folly of bad conditions, long hours, low
wages, all tending to lower the producing power. But surely
sympathy becomes the more necessary when we recollect
that woman, in addition to all her natural weakness and
greater proneness to pain, is called also to be the mother of
mankind ! Here is a national question, then, of prime im-
portance, affecting the national life in a marked degree.
For this reason do we demand that sympathy for woman
should penetrate even into the secret chambers of Boards
and of Cabinets.
Who, then, will not sympathize with the young girl in
that drapery establishment ? You look in early in the morn-
ing ; there she is, standing and arranging the goods, after
lifting down heavy weights quite beyond her strength. In
the afternoon, still in the same position ; at 6, still stand-
ing; at 8.30, still standing; on Saturday at 9, 10, n, still
standing ; and then look at her anaemic face, and ask your-
94 WOMEN'S WORK
self, What is the real reason that allows such conditions
to be in force ? And so I might take you, had I the time,
through factory and restaurant, through laundry and white-
lead works, and into the homes of our home-workers, at
II, 12, and I at night. I might show you the brightest
instances of factories and workrooms, where all is well ; but
I might read to you pages of evidence revealing the circum-
stances under which our women work, where nothing is
done except by compulsion ; where every advantage is
taken of the weakness of women ; where ordinary decency
is impossible; where all the instincts of womanhood are
crushed, and woman is treated as a cheap machine.
But it is not only, or especially, the weakness of woman
which appeals, or should appeal, to the true manliness of
man. It is the great fact that woman is called to the high
office of wife and mother (the real mother, who not only
bears but rears the child), and in this capacity, Ruskin
says, is the great producer of wealth.
* It is not good for man to be alone ; I will make him an
helpmeet for him.' And the man is to say, * This is now
bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. Therefore shall a
man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave unto his
wife, and they shall be one flesh.' Back to this primitive
law of marriage, after the intervening period of polygamy,
Christ brings us, and Christianity, if it is true to the Master,
will go up to the fountain-head of social life, casting salt in
there, checking all license, and placing woman in her right
and lawful position — the partner and companion of man.
And because of this high vocation of woman, we men are
called upon to show 'gentle consideration' towards the
wife.
But surely our duty lies beyond our own home. You
cannot as a Churchman or a citizen look out upon the
homes of our people, you cannot as employers arrange
your business, with eyes closed to this great factor in the
matter.
WOMEN'S WORK
95
What shall we say, then, as to methods and systems which
make it all but impossible to produce happy wives or healthy
mothers ? To a great extent a happy home depends upon
health ; but to how many of our young wives health has
gone ere marriage comes ! In two or three years they are
the jaded, wearied mothers, with hardly spirit to clean the
home or tend the children. No wonder that the children
are poor little weaklings, dwarfed in body and warped in
mind, a danger to the State, a dishonour to God !
And, if rightly understood, how will this question affect
the attitude of working men? More and more they will
find that it is far better to have a clean home and mothered
children, than a home dirty and neglected, children untidy
and disobedient, because the wife works at the factory. In
many places both masters and men agree that married
women shall not continue in the factory ; but in too many
places still the wives of men who are earning large wages
continue to work, and so neglect their homes, forsake their
children, and too often create a loafing and lazy manhood,
only too pleased to be idle and to live on the hard-earned
wages of the wife.
I say this is to sap the very root of national health and
wealth, and is to follow the base example of some of our
high-born mothers at the other end of the social scale, who
cannot brook the delay necessary for the feeding and care
of their child, so strong is the claim that society has upon
them. The punishment to all mothers, of all classes, is
sure and bitter. Too often they never taste of the joy of a
true mother's love ; they never receive a child's devotion ;
children never rise up to call them blessed, for their mothers
spurned them from their bosoms, and forgat their work.
To preserve, then, the high place accorded to woman will
be the care of all men, especially those in authority. The
nation will do everything to preserve the home, and the
Church will arouse the consciences of all her sons to bear
in mind the sanctity, the grace of marriage.
96 WOMEN'S WORK
And yet once more, as we ask why we should respect
and consider woman, it is enough for us who are gathered
together to-day under the aegis of a union which boasts the
name of Christian, to call to remembrance the great fact
that He whom we love and worship as God was l^orn of
woman — Mary, the Mother of Jesus !
Before this mystery we men bow our heads. We were
not called to share in that marvellous childhood.
We only can stand at a distance and catch the words
of Gabriel as he announces to the Virgin Mary the great
doctrine which the Church exists to proclaim, ' Hail, thou
that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee : blessed art
thou amongst women. The Holy Ghost shall come upon
thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee ;
therefore that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall
be called the Son of God.'
Or we shall listen to that great vesper hymn as it welled
forth from the heart of the Blessed Virgin, the Magnificat^
proclaiming as it does not only the rights of man, but the
emancipation of woman.
Or, and this would be well, we will catch of the spirit of
Joseph, who in the midst of doubt and disappointment saw
that it was his highest office as a man and a husband to
guard woman and wife from the slanders and the dangers of
the world.
How natural, then, that we should to-day bring that honour
and reverence which is due to the Mother of our Lord ! But
we cannot stay there. Thoughts of her will lead us to view
all women differently, and we shall take to ourselves the
solemn charge with a new meaning : ' Son, behold thy
mother.'
Do you say, ' Ah, this is fanciful and idealistic '? We, too,
like to contemplate the Madonna and Holy Child, but go
and see that stream of jam-factory girls ; listen to the
language of those match girls ; do you see those rag-sorters ?
Yes, I do see them ; and just because I have known many
WOMEN'S WORK 97
of them, and just because it has been my lot to be acquainted
with women who have risen above all the miserable con-
ditions under which they have worked, I am able to say
that there is no reason for such miserable pessimism, and that
the sights and sounds which too often haunt us are the direct
outcome of the inconsiderateness of man.
And if you say, Well, then, be practical, and put laws
upon the Statute Book; I reply, By all means put them there,
but for God's sake keej> them. Send inspectors and inspec-
tresses. Yes, do, especially the latter ; but what then ?
You have got some better conditions, and you have got,
and that is what we want, knowledge ; but, then, we require
the voice of the Church to arouse the consciences of our
men, and to awaken in their breasts true Christian chivalry.
It is here that it appears to me we need a loud and
clear call. It is man's duty to be to the front in defending
woman.
Trades union men must fight the battle, not for them-
selves, but for the women. Better for them to be slower in
winning their own ends than to leave woman in the rear of
the labour movement to be harassed and maltreated.
Is there no truth in the words of a mother in my parish,
as I entered a room and found her at tea with her son at
6.30? ' There's my daughter goes out an hour before him,
and comes back an hour and a half after him, and gets los.
less ; but the men are so selfish.'
It is not laws only but true religion which is needed here,
something which will inspire all men with true nobility of
character, and make them true knights of labour. Oh, we
want in our great Christian society to-day another great
baptismal question, ' Will you train up this boy to respect
woman ?' to be pressed home in confirmation, ' Will you
promise in every way possible to respect woman ?'
I have held this morning that the question of the con-
ditions under which women work resolves itself into the
question. What does man think of woman ? and I affirmed that
7
98 WOMEN'S WORK
man's idea of woman is low. I dare not close my subject
without clenching the argument, and proving it to the
hilt.
What shall we say of man's cruelty and meanness as he
creates that ghastly profession of the harlot ? Man, too
selfish to marry, enjoying the independence, the luxury
of his club, yet takes advantage of woman's position, and,
her natural guardian, wilfully betrays her.
Here is England's curse, to which drunkenness is nothing.
But the question which I want to ask is this. What is
the connection between low wages and immorality ? Is
work given out at an abominable wage because it is known
that it can be done, for other wages are earned ?
Undoubtedly there are cases where an employer ought to
say, 'Seeing the condition of my employes, I must either
raise the wages and take from them their awful temptation,
or I must close the works.'
Or, again, do women ever say, ' I can undersell another
woman, and carry out that order at a starvation price,
because those wages are not all I earn ?'
Then, I say, all honour to any society, any union, any
legislation, which says, ' This shall not be.'
Do I lift the veil here in a dark spot? I must go lower
still, where woman is still more at the mercy of man, and
where we can still better gauge his real opinion of woman.
Come away from that abominable scene in central London
every night in the year (a scene which by itself proves my
point) ; leave the sham gaiety of it all, follow me. Come up
these dirty stairs in that back street, knock at the door, and
behold that girl lying there, soon to be the victim of con-
sumption. She still struggles out, but now with thick veil.
' She must live,' she cries, or as one said to me last week,
'I don't mean mother to go into the workhouse.'
But ask her her history. It is the history of many
members of one of the largest branches of women's pro-
fessions.
WOMEN'S WORK 99
* I was a servant, and I fell through my master,' or his son.
I am speaking within bounds and within knowledge when
I say that domestic servants suffer most at the hands of men,
cruel and unscrupulous in their conduct.
Why cannot we men, whose talk is now so constantly upon
social questions, begin where it is possible to-day ?
Are we really in earnest, or are we merely pandering to a
mere cry which is for the moment popular ? To-day, to-day,
we might stay the tears of many a wounded soul, and check
the early death of many a wounded body, if only we would
accept the Master's charge, to defend and honour woman.
Only one word would I add, a word of encouragement.
It is not all dark. It is the very excellence of many work-
shops and factories which enables us to see what is possible
and whets our appetite for more of such.
Again and again do I receive evidence of the genuine
interest taken in girls in the City. Where do we clergy in
the East End and in our Northern towns look for Sunday-
school teachers, and even visitors ? It is to those who seem
to have triumphed over all difficulties, and have gained
through their very trials a strong independence of character.
In tone, in strength of will, they call forth our admiration,
and as wives and mothers become our one hope in the midst
often of dreary and depressing surroundings.
And as woman is more and more demanding from us men
the respect due to her, as she is refusing to be treated as the
mere sport and toy of men, let us men rise also to our office,
and together with them labour for a brighter and purer
citizenship.
SPECULATION.
BY THE
REV. WILFRID RICHMOND,
AUTHOR OF 'economic MORALS,
* If any would not work, neither
should he eat'— 2 Thess. iii. 10.
WHY not ? If he could get anyone to feed him
for nothing, why should he not accept the
gift and be thankful ? St. Paul was appealing
to a principle recognised among the Jews,
a principle to which he had already appealed before.
In a country which bred parasites, those who were content
to feed on the bounty of the great or of their friends, the
Christian Church had its parasites, too — parasites on the
organized charity of her social life. St. Paul had already
invoked the Jewish maxim, famihar to himself and other
Jews, that if any would not work neither should he eat.
The maxim is no less recognised among ourselves. We,
too, attempt so to organize our charity — though there is not
quite so much of it to organize — we, too, try to avoid any
violation of the principle, that if any man will not work
neither shall he eat. But it is worth while asking — why
not ? Why do we think it wrong that a man should eat
without working ? Why is 'parasite' a term of reproach?
It is not merely that work is a good thing in itself. If a
man were offered the choice between life in a lazy, lotus-
eating land, where no labour was needed to gain the means
of living, and a life which would employ the energies of body
SPECULATION loi
and of mind, and would give him the same provision for
his needs as the reward, we should despise the man who
chose the lazy rather than the active life. But this is not
the reproach against the parasite. We blame the parasite,
not because he is lazy, but because he is a fraud. He eats
without working ; he gets without giving.
We acknowledge, then, in one part of our social life, this
principle. If you get without giving, you are a fraud on
society. Without giving — not merely without working. If
a man digs a hole in the earth and fills it up again, that, in
fact, is not work. We do not call work ' work ' unless it is
work for which someone is the better. The principle on which
we blame the parasite is this — you have no right to take
from society, or from any individual, the means of Hfe, unless
it be in return for something by which they are the gainers.
For the moment, and for this particular purpose, it does not
matter whether we look at the question from the social point
of view, and say a man has no right to his share of the pro-
duce of the common labour unless he has done his part
in the common labour ; or whether we say a man has no
right to take from the individual man what belongs to him
unless he has given him something in exchange. Either
way of putting it leaves us the same question to be addressed
to those who live by any given occupation. You eat :
what is your work ? You get : what do you give ? Is the
society in or on which you live any the better for you?
Does the individual who contributes to your income get
anything in return ? Or 2iXQyou a parasite ?
And the question is to be asked, obviously, not of those
only who derive their whole income from any particular
source that may be in question, but as to any part of a
man's income it may be asked. Is it the reward of work ?
What has been given for it ? Let us take one instance in
the matter that is before us to-day — speculation.
We clergy are said to be not averse to speculation. Cer-
tainly they send us circulars enough as to speculative invest-
102 SPECULATION
ments. Take the case, then, of a country parson. His
professional income, trom tithe or glebe land, has diminished.
He finds himself face to face with hopeless difficulties.
Very likely he married imprudently. Very likely he started
in life with college debts. Equip him with all the vices
necessary to heighten the colour of the picture. It is all
his fault — that makes him the more disposed to run a risk.
Anyhow, one morning, he leaves his parish and his schools,
he looks into his affairs, he sees ruin not far off. And that
same morning there has arrived a very tempting circular.
He must have some money somehow ; he yields to the
temptation ; he sells out from some safe investment ; he
runs the risk. What is the result ? He loses, you say, and
he deserves to be called a fool for his pains. I don't care
whether he loses or not. I want to know, not whether he
is a fool, but whether he is a knave. Suppose he does not
lose, but gains. What is the result then? What has he
done ? He knows, or he ought to know. He has to answer
the question : Where did the money come from ? — the
money which he must have — somehow, and which he has
got — somehow. The labourers in his parish live on their
wages, as best they may, and week by week leave something
done — something by -which the world, or their small corner
of it, is the better for them. The farmer Hves off his farm as
best he may ; and he, too, is living by the work of his own
hand and brain, and has' something to show for it, some-
thing for which he is paid. The village shopkeeper lives by
bringing the produce of the labour of others within reach of
his neighbours. The doctor lives by ministering to the
wants of others. Hitherto the parson himself has done the
same. We will suppose the labourer to have been worthy
of his hire. The squire — well, there are several ways of it
with the squire. He may be well-to-do — though he is not
always that — but he may be well-to-do, and yet do a day's
work among his neighbours, which is cheap enough at the
price of the income he lives on. Or he may do nothing in
SPECULATION 103
return for his living, and in that case the parson knows
what he ought to have told him, if it were not rather diffi-
cult to tell — a home-truth or so out of the Bible, such as
this, ' If any man would not work, neither should he eat.'
There may be a banker or a merchant from a neighbour-
ing town, who, if the parson had gone to him in his diffi-
culties, would have given him — most excellent advice, not to
risk his money in investments which he knew nothing about.
It may be that he is plainly living on the fruit of labour by
which the world has gained, and in that case he, too, adds
to the rebuke ; or it may be that he made his money — some-
how, and in that case the parson will not feel much the better
for being morally in the same boat with him.
But the life in the midst of which he lives teaches him
that, in yielding to the desire to get money without regard to
where it comes from, he has yielded to the desire to get
money without giving anything in return, and that the
question, where the money has come from, can only be
answered by saying that it has come out of someone else's
pocket. To get money somehow, anyhow — that is the
passion to which speculation appeals. There may be cases
with speculation, as with gambling, where the money is not
the attraction, but the excitement — the chance — like the
pleasure of a strong swimmer bathing in a stormy sea. Men
delight in exercising their faculties, in being equal to emer-
gencies, in calculating chances, in providing for and meeting
contingencies. There may be cases where it is no conscious
principle to gain by the loss of others. The gambler and
the speculator alike, taking them in the mass, are full of the
passion for money, and do gain, and know that they gain,
by the loss of others, and by the loss of others only. But
the passion which is really characteristic of the gambler and
speculator alike is the love of chance — the delight in a
world where law is not. And the professional gambler and
speculator lives on a milder form of this passion which
prevails among the mass of mankind — the desire to make
104 SPECULATION
money apart from the one law which regulates gain — the
law of justice ; the law of quid pro quo ; the desire to make
money somehow, anyhow.
It is not necessary to enter on any question as to whether
interest on invested money is ever rightly earned. We may
leave that question, at least for the sake of argument, on the
footing that you have the same right to a continued and
progressively increasing reward for past labour, when you
hand on the use of the fruit of past labour to another instead
of keeping it yourself And if investment is allowed, a
market for investments is allowed, and the merchant of
stocks earns his living as justly as the merchant of cloth or
of bread. But speculation in stocks and trade in stocks
are two different things. They shade off into one another
as night into day ; but we know night from day all the same,
and trade from speculation. And the simple question to be
asked about speculation is this : You are reaping a reward ;
have you rendered a service ?
No doubt it is possible to put cases which it would be
very difficult to bring under the rule — cases where the specu-
lator, following the precedent of Joseph in Egypt, foresees
and provides for a future contingency, benefits society, and
has earned by his foresight the further benefit which he gains
for himself. To any such difficulties I would answer, first,
that religion and morality deal with motives, and that the
question is : Are you yielding to the passion for making
money by calculating the chances of time ? Are you yield-
ing to the passion for making money, somehow, anyhow, in-
dependently of any question whether you have earned it or
not ? And I would answer, secondly. For the present I will
be quite content to leave the doubtful cases. Deal with the
cases where there is no doubt. Set to yourself this ques-
tion, How do I make the income I live on? At the
expense of those with whom I deal, or as the reward for
some service I have rendered them ? Every bargain ought
to be to the benefit of both parties to the bargain. We
SPECULATION 105
need not be too nice about who gets the best of the bargain
— the larger share of the benefit. The man with whom you
deal wouldn't deal at all unless he thought he got some
benefit. You keep the books of your business. There are
duplicate books elsewhere. All that you receive is entered
there the same. Your receipts, your income has been just
what you have entered yourself. But in the duplicate books
I speak of the opposite page will be a blank wherever you
have received and given no real return. And the man with
whom this has been so has been a parasite and hypocrite
as well, deceiving the world, deceiving himself, but not
deceiving the judgment of God.
Or set to yourself this deeper question. Here is the
passion, the poison, of speculation exposed. It means de-
frauding your neighbours. It means gaining without giving.
It means, in however exalted a fashion, living by your wits.
The passion itself, the desire to make money, somehow,
anyhow, is a passion widely spread. Is it in you ? Is it a
poison in your life ? Is it a curse on your business ? We
have seen the evil of it writ large of late. We have seen it
as the inspiration of villainy. We have seen it as some
relentless monster of vice, feeding on the virtues of simpli-
city and thrift and trust, spreading piteous ruin among the
poor, the helpless, and the weak. What was the soul of
this vast and bloated fraud ? You have joined the chorus
of abhorrence and condemnation. What have you con-
demned? I?o you abhor, shrink from, in yourself, in your own
life, in your own business, the motive that was at work ? In
the development of trade and industry in the last hundred
years great fortunes have been made before our eyes, as it
seemed, by chance, by luck, without labour, almost without
time. Our fancy catches at the instances of this. Our imagi-
nation is impressed. We dream of fortunes, and then this
desire, this passion, lays hold of us, for money unearned, for
money that is somehow to come to us. The man who walked
through his vineyard and saw across the fence his neighbour's
io6 SPECULATION
vineyard, and desired to have it, was a frankly covetous man.
It is possible to be equally covetous without being equally
frank. If you desire wealth, and mean to earn it, you
desire the gift of God, according to the laws by which He
gives it, the laws of labour and of justice. But if you desire
wealth that shall come to you without the need of labour or
the award of justice, you are only turning your back on the
fence, you are coveting just the same. And if you gain
what you desire, there are only two ways in which you can
gain it — you can gain it from God as the reward of labour,
justly paid by your neighbour, who shares with you the
multipHed fruit of the labours which God so rewards ; or
you may gain it by what are, in fact, nothing else than the
old and tried methods of the covetous man, falsehood and
robbery and wrong. Is this disguised covetousness at work
in you ? Are you tainted by the poison ? Are you content
to earn money, and in your business to walk in the ways of
God, who multiplies His gifts to men? Or are you not
content with the multipHed gifts of God ? Are you seeking
to escape into a world where there is no God and no law,
but only chance ? The choice does not lie between God
and chance, but between God and the devil. And the first
and last word to be said about speculation is this : In its
first beginnings, in the wild dream of fortune, in the instinc-
tive longing for enrichment, no less truly than in the intri-
cate and unscrupulous schemes of a deliberately fraudulent
undertaking, it is nothing else but the desire to gain what
you have not earned. It means, if you attempt it, that you
throw off the rule of God. It means, if you succeed, that
you rob your fellow-men.
' What am I to do ? You are preaching against a
system, and you are preaching to individuals entangled
in the system, unable to shake themselves free and to
take a line of their own.' I know that it is so. I know
of men of business who have come to the clergy and
said, ' I cannot become a communicant ; the methods on
SPECULATION 107
which my business is conducted forbid it.' I know of
young men starting in life, boys who have been prepared for
Confirmation, who have come to the clergy and said, ' All
that you have told me I see to be good, but when my chief
gives me instructions which go against the laws of justice
and truth, what am I to do ?'
Exoriare aliquis ! Oh for a voice to rouse the conscience,
not of an individual here and there, but of a community — to
rouse a collective conscience, quite content with a generally
diffused dishonesty, under cover of an occasional outburst
of hysterical indignation against offenders sufficiently flagrant
to be found out. What are you to do? Thank God at
least that He has led you to ask the question, if you ask
it in earnest. Who knows how near we may be to the
time when the community shall turn upon the system,
and say this is not to be endured, and shall refuse
to enforce the payment of a debt where it cannot equit-
ably be said that any consideration has been received?
If it be true to say that under our present commercial
system the individual man cannot hope in many kinds of
business to live up to the plain standard of honesty and
truth, one need not be much of a socialist to say that here
is a case for the State to intervene in any way that may be
possible. One need not be much of a prophet to say that
when the conscience of the community is roused to appre
ciate the facts, the remedy will not be far away.
But meanwhile what are you to do ?
Above the shifting tides of City life, above the interlacing
hurrying crowds, and all the turmoil and confusion of the
devices and desires of men, on the top of the great dome
of St. Paul's, there is set up the Cross of Christ. Look up
to it ; think what it means of loyalty to righteousness and
truth, loyalty at any sacrifice and at any cost, and tell me —
Could any minister of Christ, speaking of what we com-
monly call speculation, have claimed from you a less, a
lower, loyalty to the eternal laws of justice and right than I
io8 SPECULATION
have claimed to-day ? My first business has been to draw
the clear line between right and wrong.
And having done that, having said my say thus far, I dare
not say less to the individual man than this. Here is the
truth. Argue it out with yourself. Acknowledge the truth ;
set your face towards the light, and move towards it as you
may. What your first step should be, and when you should
take it, I cannot tell you. Your own conscience can. Oh for
a voice, I said, to rouse the conscience of the community !
Oh for a man, rather, to see and do the right whatever may
come of it ! It may be there is little you can do at once.
Do something, at least. If for a time you have to bow
yourself in the house of Mammon, I dare not tell you,
looking up to the Cross, that He will deny you before His
Father which is in heaven. But are you content to have it
so?
We are close on Passion-tide. It is the time of all
others to learn courage. I do not plead with you to have
the courage to be true to yourself and to the standard of
what you know to be right. I do not plead with you to
recover your own self-respect, or to rise to an abstract standard
of righteousness and justice. It is not for this that I ask you
to have the courage to live by what you know to be the
truth.
I plead with you for pity on the poor ] the wronged, who
often do not know that they are wronged, who from the
midst of ruined lives, crying out against the hardness of
fate, curse God and die. I plead with you for those who
are deluded — the fools, whom those who are wiser pillage and
despise ; less fools, perhaps, than they who all along have
said in their hearts. There is chance ; there is no God. I
plead with you for those who may perhaps have been sinners
like yourselves, in that they, too, wished to make money
anyhow they might, but sinners not against the same degree
of light as you — rather led astray by you, who know what
business is.
SPECULATION log
I ask you simply to take the stories of the victims of the
Liberator frauds, as we have all read them, and to say to
yourself, This and the like of this is going on every day,
not always on the same scale, not always with the same de-
gree of flagrant fraud, but in the essence of it this very
thing over and over again. On the one hand the ignorant
speculator, often not even knowing that he is a speculator at
all, and on the other hand the skilled speculator, knowing
very well that he renders neither to man nor God any service
for which he should be paid ; and the pockets of the ignorant
speculator are emptied that the pockets of his wiser brother
may be filled.
I plead with you to say for yourself that you, for your
part, will have neither part nor lot in such a system ; that
inch by inch, as you see your opportunity, you will fight the
battle against it — fight for pity against cruel wrong ; fight
for truth against the falsehood which is murdering genera-
tion after generation of the souls of the young ; fight for
justice, to make the honesty of English commerce as much
a proverb as the righteousness of English rule.
'SOLDIERS AND SAILORS.'
BY THE
REV. R. R. DOLLING,
HEAD OF WINCHESTER COLLEGE MISSION, PORTSMOUTH.
' One soweth, and another reapeth.^
— John iv. 38.
GENTLEMEN, I must begin by making the awful
and solemn declaration that after eighteen cen-
turies of Christianity the object of the 'Prince of
Peace ' has not been attained. War still exists,
and therefore it is necessary to speak of soldiers and sailors.
But the Divine Carpenter will have His revenge, and His
revenge will be complete when by means of labour, which
He emancipated and glorified, war shall cease throughout
the whole world. In a large measure, labour is already
organized in England, and the working man is learning day
by day his own value, but this is at best but a partial step
towards peace, and it needs that the English example should
be followed upon the Continent, and the movement become
cosmopolitan. When once the foreign workman has realized
his own powers — powers which, surely, we can teach him can
be asserted without anarchy and the disruption of society —
when shameful wages and shameful hours and the abomin-
able sweating system, depriving men of the fruits of their
labours, shall have ceased universally, as they have begun to
cease in England, then the patient pleadings of the Carpenter
of Nazareth will be realized, and man — the temporal redeemer
of the earth by the sweat of his brow — shall refuse to be
SOLDIERS AND SAILORS m
manipulated as the enemy of his brethren, either in the
sweating dens of financiers, or on the battle-fields, or in the
armies, maintained at present at an impossible cost by
politicians or by monarchs, for their own selfish purpose.
The Carpenter will have His revenge, and therefore it is
not Utopian to suppose that a day will come when war shall
cease.
But while it is well to have these higher ideals before us,
it is certainly foolish not to look things in the face and realize
what they are at the present moment. And, above all, it
is our duty, as their employers, to recognise the crushing
evils which to-day exist among our soldiers and sailors.
And standing in the very centre of the world's market, it
is well for us to confess that these men have laboured, and
that you, the merchants of England, have entered into their
labours.
There is not a single vessel in your port of London, there
is not a single article by the buying and selling of which you
amass your fortunes, there is not a single pound the turning
over of which adds to your riches, that you do not in the
truest sense owe to their bravery and self-denial, and there-
fore, surely, it ought to be an undisputed fact that it is in-
cumbent upon you to render the condition of their toil and
life as harmless as possible.
Gentlemen, you live in your own homes surrounded by
saintly women, the atmosphere of whose lives is to you a
continual reminder of what you ought to be.
The pure influence of the Christian home (Christ's own
method of creating men to follow the example of His own
Hfe), the home, the woman's influence, the litde child's
pleading ways, the very sight of your boys and girls growing
up before you— these, the most potent helps for true self-
government, the sailor and the soldier voluntarily surrender
for your sake.
Is it too much, then, to say that their lives are passed in
an unnatural state, in which it is almost impossible for
112 SOLDIERS AND SAILORS
them to lead a pure, noble, and godly life ; though I am
proud to say that, from my own experience, I know how
many achieve splendid characters ; but surely it is rather in
spite of the disadvantages they suffer than in response to
their daily environment.
But even looking at this matter from a selfish point of
view, something should be done for the welfare of those
who protect the country, else it will be found more increas-
ingly difficult to recruit the ranks of the services.
If a number of great City merchants should supply money
to build ironclads to fill the Thames, unless they considered
the personnel of the navy, their ironclads would be in vain.
At the present moment, I believe, the Admiralty require
nearly 10,000 men to man the ships they already have, and
if that be true of the navy, it is also true of the sister service.
How many army corps do you suppose at this present
moment you could put in the field ?
The continued drain of soldiers to their linked battalions
in India and elsewhere leaves the strength of regiments at
home little better than weedy boys, just recruited.
Gentlemen, what is the reason of this ?
Is the spirit of adventure passing away from England ?
Surely not !
There is hardly an English lad who attains manhood, who
has not at one time or another in his life dreamed of becom-
ing either a soldier or a sailor.
Is the patriotic love of our country passing away ? God
forbid that any Englishman should think that. England,
freer, nobler, more truly just, than she has ever been before,
demands, and I believe receives, the love and loyalty of all
her sons.
Why, then, does recruiting fail in both branches of the
service ?
The reasons are not difficult to find, though, owing to the
mysterious system which prevails at the War Office and the
Admiralty, great masses of the English people are kept in
SOLDIERS AND SAILORS 113
the dark on these vital questions : many do not even know-
that this deficiency exists.
The time has gone by when it is possible to recruit from
the riffraff, when the soldier may be a mere machine.
Intelligence and acuteness are necessary for the fulfilment
of many of the soldier's — and certainly of all the sailor's —
duties ; hence it is necessary to recruit from a better class,
and to-day the service-man demands, and has a right to
receive, a living wage.
This difficulty, to a certain extent, does not exist in the
navy, for lads are caught young, before they know their true
value ; but the difficulty of recruiting stokers, who are
enlisted at the age of eighteen, surely teaches us that a like
difficulty would arise in recruiting bluejackets at the same
age.
If your warships are to be increased, you must multiply
your training-ships round the coast, and these training-ships,
on which in a large measure depends the whole future of
your navy, should be removed from centres of pollution
and danger like Portsmouth, Devonport, etc , and placed in
spots round the coast where the lads could live a far more
natural life, with much more recreation in the fields — a life,
in fact, purer and more wholesome in all ways than is at
present possible.
Some of you may have sons on the Britannia; if so, you
will doubtless be able to supply yourselves a true comment
on this part of my story. Then the captains, lieutenants, and
chaplains of these ships should be men of age and tempera-
ment, and special experience in understanding the aspirations
and the dangers of youth ; not pitched into the berth
because it happens to be their turn for such promotion, but
selected, and then remaining in such special training service,
so that the whole surrounding of the boy's life may be a
sympathetic atmosphere, specially directed towards the
minimizing of those dangers which of necessity must exist in
his present homeless life.
8
114
SOLDIERS AND SAILORS
But leaving this question of training, let us consider the
question of wages.
A man is drawn into the ranks of the army on practically
false — I say shamefully false — pretence. Nominally he
receives a shilling a day and rations.
What are the facts ? Threepence out of every shilling is
stopped to supply extra food necessary for his bodily health,
whether he will or no.
A halfpenny is compulsorily stopped for washing ; thus his
shilling becomes eightpence-halfpenny ; but these deductions
do not stop here : barrack damages, library, hair-cutting, and
oftentimes other compulsory subscriptions, make a still
further reduction, so that at the end of the week the shilhng
is seldom more than sevenpence.
Until he gets his shilling per day, and his accounts are
simplified, so that he can easily understand the deductions
made, you need never expect to enlist efficient and intelligent
men. Again, he is supphed with a nominally free kit, but
the uniform part, if it does not fit him, which is usually the
case, is altered at his expense.
This kit is by Government renewed from time to time, but
his under-kit, consisting of three pairs of socks, two shirts,
two towels, one little bit of soap, and other things necessary
for what is called cleaning, he has to maintain for seven
long years.
He has to show his kit monthly, and if he is lacking in
any of these articles, or they are not in good repair, he has
to pay for new ones, and he is punished as well. From such
causes I have often known a soldier driven into a state of
practical sullen rebelHon, out of heart with his profession,
out of heart with his officers, a man most dangerous to him-
self and especially dangerous to the society in which he
lives. This kit question must be settled upon an honour-
able basis.
Again, the present short service system is a great hindrance
to recruiting.
SOLDIERS AND SAILORS 115
The lodging-houses of England are full of those soldiers
in the reserve living on their sixpence a day ; seven years,
the best of their lives, have been taken, rendering them
unfit (according to the testimony of employers of labour) for
ordinary work.
The deferred pay — amounting to ^21 — is just enough to
allow them to revel in a month or two of debauch, not
enough to enable them to set up in any useful business. Of
course there are very many exceptions to this description, but
there are a large number of these men loafing round public-
houses, a continuous warning to mothers and fathers to
prevent their boys from becoming soldiers or sailors.
The pay in the navy is a litde in advance of that in the
army, but there a man has to buy and keep up all his whole
kit.
Very often a new captain demands a new kind of rig, and
so men are being constantly put to a practically unnecessary
expense.
Even a chief petty officer, who after qualifying in gunnery
and torpedoes and diving, becomes gunnery instructor, and
then captain of a turret, only receives five shillings and a penny
per day. This is a man of such true intelligence and attain-
ment that in civil life he would be receiving a very large
salary. It is fair, of course, to add that he has a pension in
view, but so few men attain all these qualifications that they
hardly affect the question.
But it is not merely a question of pay ; it is surely a
question of risk as well.
These men carry their lives in their hands for your sakes.
It is a noble thing truly to die for one's country, but if you
leave wife and children behind to beggary, and worse,
surely the country does not fulfil her part of the bargain.
I need not refer to the shameful management of the
Patriotic and Victoria Funds; but shameful as is the pro-
vision made for widows and orphans in the Victoria case,
happy, you may say, is the woman whose husband happens
8—2
Ii6 SOLDIERS AND SAILORS
to die in a crowd ; if he had fallen overboard on some
stormy night, or been killed pursuing a slaver on the African
coast, his wife and children would have got nothing at all.
It is this awful uncertainty about the future of those he
loves best that is a continual menace to the peace of mind
of the soldier and sailor. One little incident will illustrate
the heartlessness and cruelty of the Admiralty.
A man's kit is his own ; if he dies on board ship it is
auctioned on board amongst his comrades, who always pay
a great deal more than its value, and send the money home
as a loving present to his friends.
But because the Victoria went down, the men who were
lost in her had no compensation allowed to their relatives.
The men who lived got something inadequately small. It
is this red-tape of the Whitehall officials that strangles the
loyalty of the bluejacket.
But there are other difficulties which I am bound, though
unwillingly, to mention. Practically, marriage is forbidden
to the soldier ; at least, for the first five years of his service,
and then only a few are allowed on the strength of the
regiment. God's Apostle says, ' It is better to marry than to
burn.' Many of these men marry. Out of their pay of
sevenpence per day, what can they give their wives ? It
means that the wife has no recognised claim for support on
her husband at all. Either she tries to follow the regiment
at her own expense, with the chance of being sent back by
the Government, or drags on a miserable existence —
married, yet practically unmarried. It is almost impossible
to imagine the lives of these women, as they are spent in
Portsmouth and other military centres.
The sailor, on the other hand, is allowed to marry, and a
certain portion of his pay he can allot to his wife ; but when I
tell you that in the case of an ordinary seaman this amounts
to ^i per month, and as his rating increases a little more is
added, I need hardly do more than ask you to imagine what a
wife with little children can do under circumstances like these.
SOLDIERS AND SAILORS 117
If wrong comes of it, and Jack (who for our sakes has
practically surrendered wife and children) receives a wound
to his honour which is worse than death, a very stab in his
heart, gentlemen, on whom lies the blame ?
But there is another side of the question worse than
marriage.
Think of those strong, vigorous, well-groomed, fairly-fed
men, with all to make their body strong, their passions power-
ful, think of them living separated altogether from woman-
kind, with the common talk of the barrack-room, or of the
lower deck, ever sounding in their ears, centred in such sinks
of iniquity as Portsmouth, Plymouth, Chatham, Aldershot,
and other garrison towns, where the streets are beyond
measure disgraceful.
In Portsmouth, for instance, which I know well, there
are to be found on the Hard, at the very Dockyard gates,
no less than fourteen buildings constructed and carried on
for the sale of intoxicating drinks, twelve being fully-licensed
houses, out of a total of twenty-six.
The post-office, where sailors have very frequently to go,
stands between a group of seven, five being next door to each
other on the one side, and two on the other. Out of the
Hard opens Queen Street, the practical thoroughfare of
Portsea, with a very large number of public-houses in it,
and several alleys and courts— you can hardly call them
streets— which are practically full of brothels.
Is it any wonder, then — to quote the words of his worship
the Mayor of Portsmouth — ' that even in this garrison there
were nearly half the men in hospital, owing to the repeal of
the CD. Acts'?
Is it any wonder that the Admiralty and War Office have
communicated with Lord Clanwilliam and the general com-
manding at Portsm.outh and other garrison centres, telling
them to take steps with the civil authorities to ameliorate
these evils ?
Is it any wonder that we, who know that in an awful sense
Ii8 SOLDIERS AND SAILORS
the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children from
generation to generation, demand that some steps shall be
taken? I do not say to re-enact the CD. Acts — that
is a matter of consideration — but to change the intolerable
temptation that besets these lads, who for your sakes endure
temptations to which the dangers of the battle-field are as
nothing.
If you say that you supply them with a State-made and
State-paid-for religion, I do not think you dare salve your
conscience with such an excuse.
To create the priest into the officer, the free worship of
Almighty God into a compulsory Queen's parade, is that
the method to convert any soul to Christ, or build him up
in the service of One whose worship is ' perfect freedom ' ?
If you want to know about this, ask first for statistics of
communions made by soldiers and sailors, or of their
attendance made at voluntary services in the evening.
I am told it is far too common that at the evening
voluntary service in garrison towns the soldier is conspicuous
by his absence.
Gentlemen, I bless God that there are many noble, true-
hearted Christian people working for the soldier and the
sailor.
The names of Miss Robinson and Miss Weston will be
familiar to you all, and many besides them — but I confess it
with shame, as a priest of the Church of England, that, as a
rule, these efforts have not been made by those in our own
communion.
The Wesleyans, Undenominationals, Roman Catholics,
put us to shame ; but while confessing our shame, let us be
encouraged to think that at last a movement has been made
at Aldershot, at Gosport, at Pirbright, and in Woolwich, and
perhaps in other towns I do not know — the Church of
England Institute is in working order, not in a spirit of com-
petition with those who have been in the field before, and
for whose untiring labours we thank Almighty God, but
SOLDIERS AND SAILORS ug
Striving to make up a little of the deficiency which to
our shame exists. If you have money, I pray you give it to
these institutions ; but at any rate never let one single day
pass without praying Almighty God that He may govern
and direct the bodies and souls of soldiers and sailors in the
way of everlasting life.
BETTING AND GAMBLING.
REV. J. S. BARRASS,
RECTOR OF ST. MICHAEL, BASSISHAW.
GENTLEMEN, in the absence of the Rev. J. W.
Horsley through illness, I have been called
upon at short notice to address you on ' betting
and gambling.' I shall take the subject from
its popular side of ' wagering ' on sporting events. Before
doing so, I cannot pass by without comment the serious gamb-
ling which takes place ' on ' and ' off ' the Stock Exchange.
No one can deny that side by side with the genuine busi-
ness of the Stock Exchange there is constantly going on a
form of gambling. That that gambling is deplored by the
best men on the Stock Exchange is conceded ; but the fact
remains, and a very damaging fact it is to those who seek
to wage war against gambling, to have hurled at their heads
that much of the commercial business of the country is
carried on in the form of gambling. Surely this is de-
grading in the commercial world? And if this is so of
the Stock Exchange, what is to be said of the business of
the 'bucket-shop'? Surely no one will deny that gambling
of a base and degrading character is carried on there. To
denounce the system as a swindle is to speak of it in the
accents of a little child.
It is not always possible to reform men by legislation, nor
will legislation save the innocent and the ignorant from
BETTING AND GAMBLING 121
risking their all upon the airy promises of an irresponsible
circular. But the time has come when legislation of a
drastic character should be aimed at the 'bucket-shop'
system as well as at the
' PROMOTER OF COMPANIES BUBBLE.'
And I hope that before long the Legislature will have the
courage to take the matter up. It has often been said
that, as a class, the clergy show a great fondness for
Stock Exchange transactions, and I have heard more
than once from stockbrokers that if there was any ' shady *
transaction going, in which enormous profits were dangled
before the eyes of the unwary, the readiest to fall into
the trap were parsons and pious old ladies. I do not
know why this should be so, but it is vouched for upon all
sides. An outside broker once told me that in response
to a circular which promised ' untold wealth in a week to
anyone who would venture a few hundred pounds,' he re-
ceived a letter from an old widow lady in a provincial town
enclosing her all and expressing her belief that ' in answer
to prayer she had been guided by God to make this invest-
ment' ' Perhaps,' said the broker, ' you won't believe me,
but I sent that money back. I felt that if by any piece of
villainy I brought poverty and want upon that old widow I
should deserve to be plunged into hell'
Surely, if this incident shows nothing more, it reveals the
fact that there was at least one who felt a twinge of con-
science. But it shows more than that. It shows unmis-
takably that in the line indicated there is going on a species
of organized and systematic villainy — a villainy which must
be apparent to thousands of financiers in the City of London,
a villainy which makes one's blood boil at the callous indiffer-
ence of the gentleman at Whitehall who rejoices in the title
of ' Public Prosecutor.' What is he about, that this evil
goes on year after year unchecked ?
122 BETTING AND GAMBLING
But the gambling of the Stock Exchange and ' bucket-
shops,' although appalling in itself, is as a drop in the ocean
compared to that which is among us and eating into the very
heart of society in the form of betting and wagering. There
is no class of the community free from the pestilent plague
of betting. From the highest to the lowest — the peer to
the plough-boy, and the duke to the dustman — the vice
claims victims, and wherever its vitiating influence is felt it
is bad — hopelessly bad.
There is one very curious feature about betting, however,
which ought to be mentioned. Nobody ever bets to win !
So they say, at all events. And judged from the standpoint
of those who bet, betting is a great object-lesson in self-
denial and self-sacrifice, and ought therefore to be classed
among the cardinal virtues. According to these, the ' backer '
who puts 071 his 'crown,' his 'fiver,' or his 'pony,' would be
most indignant if anyone made the suggestion that he had
any desire to win or to take the cash of another without
giving an adequate return. He does it, he says, to give him
' an interest in the race,' or a ' little pardonable excitement '
— the great antidote to the monotonous routine of daily
business. So when the day of the race, on which his money
is staked, arrives, and purchasing his evening paper to see
the 'result,' he finds that the horse he ' backed ' has lost, he
rejoices ! He has had his reward in the excitement — that
was all he sought — and he throws his cap in the air, glad
that the other man will have the money ! Now, doesn't he ?
Is not that typical of the ordinary man who bets ? You
know better ! I know better ! Experience among men,
knowledge of human nature, the ordinary gift of common-
sense, tells one that to lose money, however little, maddens
a man, goads him on to still further ventures in the hope of
recouping his losses, impoverishes his home, starves his
wife and children, ruins his business, blasts his character,
develops in him the most ignoble passions, and renders him
unfit for the serious business of life. Is this indictment
BETTING AND GAMBLING
[23
overcharged ? You know it is not overcharged. Hardly a
day passes by without recording a victim or victims. For
every penny gained by betting upon the one side there is a
corresponding misery and degradation upon the other side,
and in any consideration of the subject the misery and
degradation are factors which cannot be lost sight of. A
man may plead, ' May I not do what I please with my
own ?' but the only answer to such a plea is, ^ No ; you may
not do what you like with your own if what you like brings
misery upon other people.' Precisely the same argument
might have been used, and doubdess was used, in defence
of the slave-trade or concerning the inhuman traffic which
floods our own streets to-day.
Well, this evil — this disease (for it is a disease)— of betting
has assumed gigantic proportions, and as one views it to-day
in all its manifold shapes, it seems almost hopeless to make
any successful attack upon it. There have not been wanting
men prominent in the sporting world who have denied the
widespread nature of betting. Not long ago the editor of
a sporting print— 7%^ Fink'mt—sQt out to show that betting
was on the decrease. How he must have laughed ' up his
sleeve ' ! His attempt was a most dismal failure. Per-
haps he was right in his claim that there are not now such
large sums staked by individuals on single events as were
staked formerly. But in that he appeals to a very limited
number of people, and, after all, perhaps the real reason for
it is the multiplication of race meetings, or, at the best, that
a few men are not such great fools as they used to be in the
good old sporting days gone by.
The evil has grown of late years, grown rapidly, until there
is not a town, village, or hamlet in the land but feels its
blighting influence. Nor is it difficult to account for its
growth. Race meetings have multiplied within the past
twenty years. The press has lent its aid to the movement,
and given special facilities in every direction to men to bet.
There are now many daily and weekly newspapers devoted
124 BETTING AND GAMBLING
entirely to sporting news — which, of course, means offering
extra special help to the betting fraternity — whilst the ordi-
nary newspapers, with only two or three exceptions, feel the
force of competition, and confess themselves obliged to
minister to the wants of the betting element. There is a
demand, they say, and we must meet it with a supply, and,
moreover, it pays ! Then, again, the postal authorities have
not shown themselves averse to offering, whenever possible,
the means of telegraphic communication from race meetings
and the like ; and last, but not least, that great tribunal,
Public Opinion, although generally believing the spirit of
gambling to be wrong, has taken no decided stand against
it. So, with these and many other facilities, the disease has
spread and become a national scourge. Go where you will,
you find it raising its hideous head, and wherever you find
it, there you have developed to hand the very worst traits of
human nature. And how far-reaching is the influence of
betting ! Now and again we get a glimpse through the
medium of the law courts of what it leads to, but even there
we gather really nothing of the widespread misery and ruin
which it brings in its train. Men, women, and children are
tainted with it. Take its effects in the City of London
alone, and you will gather enough evil from it to make the
angels weep. Where is the bank, or counting-house, or
warehouse, or factory, or printing establishment, that is free
from it? And most of these people find vent for their
passion by betting on horse-racing. Not, surely, that they
are deeply interested in the sport ? Most of them may never
have seen a racehorse nor would they be able to distinguish
one from a draught-horse, nor do they attend race meetings.
They gather their 'information' from touts and tipsters {who
are invariably wrong), through the medium of the press. And
the whole system is so ridiculous that it would be super-
fluous to stop and ask the value of the information given
day by day, were it not that that information is implicitly
relied upon by those to whom it is given. The editors of
BETTING AND GAMBLING 125
newspapers know full well that the whole thing is a miser-
able sham, that every day they are 'palming off' upon their
readers several columns of matter which must inevitably
have baneful results upon the community.
For saying all this, one is laughed at by men who consider
themselves 'knowing,' 'sporting gentlemen,' 'men of the
world,' and the like. A pack of fools — dangerous fools — on
whom, for the benefit of our country, a strict watch ought to
be kept. You may say this is rather hard coming from a
parson, who cannot have seen much of the evil. But I know
the atmosphere of which I am speaking, and I am not
' beating the air.' I know its baseness, its meanness, its
cowardliness. I know how utterly impossible it is for any
sign or form of goodness to flourish in its midst, and I
assure you men that it is impossible to find a vocabulary
strong enough in which to denounce it. The whole spirit
of it is bad, whether it is in the form of betting, or in games
of chance, or in a sweepstake or a raffle at a church bazaar
— it is hopelessly bad. There can be no exception ; the
spirit of it is a wrong spirit, a spirit which degrades man
and dishonours God.
But what are we to do ? How can the evil be crushed ?
By legislation ? By curtailing the freedom of the press ?
EngUshmen shudder at the very thought of curbing the
press, but surely it would be better that the press should be
held by ' bit and bridle,' than that the moral tone of our
country should be ruined, and we should become — which
we are rapidly becoming — a nation of gamblers. Is it too
much to hope that the vice shall be denounced from every
pulpit in the land ?
But here again we are met with varying counsels. Surely,
it is pleaded, there is no harm in playing games for small
' points,' or in a raffle at a bazaar. And so the vice is not
denounced ; betting men sneer at the Church, and rightly
so, for her half-heartedness. We turn, then, to Public
Opinion. What can be done there? Among the upper
126 BETTING AND GAMBLING
classes, not much ; the lower, still less. Yet one does not
wish to give up the aristocracy, who have certainly mended
their ways considerably with regard to drinking. Twenty
years ago there was no harm seen in a gentleman getting
dead drunk at dinner ; to-day such an action would be con-
sidered the action of a cad. Cannot betting be so branded
in society ? Would to God that it could ! That would be
a great step. But it is not to the upper classes alone that
we have to look so much as to the middle and working
classes of the population. There is among these latter
classes a gathering strength of brotherliness — a feeling
which has its expression in the thought, '/ am my brother's
keeper.' It is to that growing spirit we must look for the
formation of a public opinion upon the evil of betting and
gambling which shall ultimately brand the scourge with that
injustice and wrong which are its inherent qualities, and
leave no effort unused until the evil be stamped out. With
such a spirit we may demand legislation, and it will be
forthcoming. May that spirit of brotherliness grow among
us ! for surely it is but a foretaste of the realization of the
prayer — 'Thy kingdom come.' Let me close by quoting the
familiar lines of Leigh Hunt's poem, ' Abou Ben Adhem
and the Angel':
' Abou Ben Adhem — may his tribe increase ! —
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight, in his room,
Making it rich and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold.
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
I And to the presence in the room he said,
" What writest thou ?" The vision raised its head,
And, in a voice made all of sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those that love the Lord."
" And is mine one ?" said Abou. " Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spake more low,
But cheerly still, and said : " I pray thee, ihen.
Write me as one who loves his fellow-men."
The angel wrote and vanished. The next night
He came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blest.
And lo ! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.'
MARRIAGE LAW.
REV. CANON H. SCOTT HOLLAND.
* This is a gjrai mystery ; hut I
speak concerning Christ and the
Church.' — Ephes, v. 32.
IF we are ever tempted to suppose that the secular and
the rehgious aspects of human life can be held apart
in separate compartments, or that the Gospel of Jesus
Christ makes its appeal only to the individual con-
science, and has no positive bearing on social interests, our
hopes of intellectual consistency are bound to come to an
abrupt arrest at the point where we encounter marriage.
Marriage ! Here, if anywhere, religion claims to be con-
cerned. Always, in every place, form, and fashion, the
religious instinct has fastened on marriage as its own.
Round and about it the earhest memories of primitive
faiths have inwoven their most intimate associations.
Wherever we turn, at whatever age in the world's history,
a nation's rehgion finds in marriage one of its pivot-points.
Marriage can, of course, be secularized where religion is
absent. But it is hardly possible, except under the influence
of some abnormal reaction, such as overtook the early Re-
formation, for any living religious belief to exclude marriage
from its sphere of action.
And, as this is obviously the case in the whole multitude
and mass of human religions, so, again, our own Christian
Faith, obeying the Divine inspiration of its Master's words,
128 MARRIAGE LAW
and guided by the earliest direction of Apostles themselves,
assumed marriage as its own peculiar concern, and endowed
it with its own authoritative sanction, and steeped it in its
own spiritual temper, and veiled it in the light and music
of its own innermost mystery, and filled it, and transfigured
it, and established it, so that it became a wholly Christian
thing, and, at last was so imbedded within the body of the
Church that it became almost inconceivable that even its
temporal, and legal, and external conditions could be
separated from the special prerogative of ecclesiastical
authority.
Yes, certainly, marriage must fall on to the religious
side of our life, wherever our faith is in full play. And
again, it certainly falls over on to the side of the individual
conscience and the individual freedom of choice. Here in
marriage, if anywhere, the inner world of feeling, of passion,
of imagination, all that strange and delicate world which
we w^ould at all costs keep in our own possession, in its
own sacred secrecy, unpublished, undisplayed, unadvertised,
unhampered, must be intimately touched. We reach in
marriage the very sanctuary where a soul puts out its claim
to be itself and no other ; to be hidden from alien eyes and
unvexed by public supervision ; to be at liberty to trust
its private instincts and to develop its natural capacities.
Marriage, then, engages all those innermost elements in us
which go to constitute our personal and our religious in-
dividuality. That is certain.
And yet there is nothing which is more obviously and
more essentially a public and social affair. Beyond all
question the State must take account of it in all its bearings.
The life of the whole community rests on it, revolves round
it, springs from it. Far from being a merely private business,
it has issues at every turn which compel the public legisla-
tion to take note of its every step, to follow its every move-
ment, to inspect, to regulate, to direct, to guard, to license,
to limit, to define, to handle it. Nor can it do this without
MARRIAGE LAW 129
a distinct conception of what it intends by marriage. For
the matters which bring marriage under its handling, and
which give to marriage its intense social significance, are
no accidental incident, but belong to its very principle
and purpose ; and the State that is to be concerned so in-
timately and so minutely and so seriously with all the
delicate details that grow up round and about marriage,
must, perforce, have deliberately asked itself, what is its
principle? what is its purpose? and must, as deliberately,
have formulated an answer. The complicated legal me-
chanism by which a society controls and supervises the
marriage of its citizens is bound to embody a definite ideal.
It cannot be merely the formal and regulative action as of
an indifferent spectator who has no other interest than that
of keeping the peace.
Marriage is, then, the one absolutely inevitable point at
which the theory of separating the outer and the inner order
of things, the social and the individual life, the purpose of
the State and the purpose of rehgion, must for ever break
down. It cannot be done. Here the two halves must
either collide or agree ; they must have interests in com-
mon, interests that overlap, interests, too, that belong to
what is deepest in each. A man or woman in marrying,
however private, personal, intimate the motives that are at
work within them ; however profoundly to them it may
seem to be their own affair, and no one else's ; are, as a fact,
undertaking of necessity public responsibilities which the
entire body of their fellow-citizens are concerned in im-
posing, and are exercising the highest privileges of their
corporate citizenship.
My brethren, you and I have come together here in St.
Edmund's, just because we are anxiously inquiring whether
our public and our private lives can be brought into har-
monious agreement ; whether our social and our individual
consciences correspond ; whether our conduct as citizens
reflects in any degree the mind of Jesus Christ.
9
130 MARRIAGE LAW
In such an inquiry, then, as I have tried to show, there
can be no point at which the challenge rings out with
sharper urgency, with a more piercing anxiety, than at this
of marriage. And this urgency, this anxiety, are acutely
heightened for us at the moment at which we stand, because
the newer social ideals and motives which are beginning to
tell upon our civic life, and to mould our legislation, have
not yet shown what their action will be in this vital sphere.
They have hardly yet displaced at all, in this department,
those counter-ideas which everywhere else they are so
rapidly ousting. Yet, at last, they are bound to invade this
domain as well as all others ; and when they do they will
be liable to those peculiar perils which have always histori-
cally accompanied Socialism in its treatment of marriage.
These perils will be wholly different from those which
have hitherto beset us. What have those been ? What
are they still? They are those which spring from Indi-
vidualism ; and from the Secularism which has been its out-
come. Individualism has no consistent interpretation of
marriage ; for marriage is itself, in its very essence, the denial
of Individualism. It asserts with all its force the incom-
pleteness of the individual. It roots his being in partner-
ship, in community, in corporate responsibility, in the inter-
mingling of life with life. Individualism has no insight into
such principles as these. For it, marriage can only be re-
garded from the point of view of the individual satisfaction
gained in it ; and its main anxiety lies in freeing this satis-
faction from all unnecessary fetters. Its aim is to leave
the individual alone as far as possible in making or un-
making his contract. Its legislation is all set towards
loosening the ties as soon as they fret or curb the individual
conscience. This convenience, understood in its full sense,
constitutes the main ground of marriage ; when it ceases,
the justification for the contract is withdrawn, is gone.
Hence the movement of Liberal, of progressive legislation
has run so strongly for the last sixty years in the direction
MARRIAGE LAW 131
of free divorce. Of course there was the uncomfortable
fact of children to be faced. This necessarily fixed some
limitation to individual liberty ; and, again, this involved
public interests in securing that no social injury was in-
curred. For all this side Individualism, possessing, as it
did, no ideal principle by which to bring together the per-
sonal satisfaction and the public obligations incurred by its
indulgence, fell back on the protective and preventive
action of physical science. It was inclined to suppose
that medical knowledge could fix such regulations as were
essential to the public well-being. The State must be
guided by the doctor as to what it was bound to forbid.
Apart from this, its whole object lay in securing perfect
freedom to the contracting parties.
Liberty of contract, with medical science at hand to warn,
and check, and advise, and relieve — here is the general
picture of the situation, as the main mass of men who were
concerned in making and administering the law have
conceived it. And can we be the least surprised that,
under the influence of such a picture, marriage became
more and more secularized, in the narrow and worse sense of
the word ; and that, under the cover of such secularism, we
should have terribly suffered from a wide invasion of practical
methods by which the private satisfaction could be indulged
without incurring any of the paramount and public obligations
which tend to control, and to steady, and to moralize it ?
Such an invasion could not but debase and disorganize
the entire fabric of moral motives which sustain the purity
and the honour of responsibility in marriage.
I thank God, from the depth of my heart, that, with the
break-down of Secularism, we have made our escape out of
the worst stress of the peril in which we stood. The indivi-
dualistic creed, which supplied so much of the spirit which
went to the justification of those methods, is, mercifully, fast
vanishing away. And with it, too, disappears, I trust, a large
body of those principles and motives which have for so
9—2
132 MARRIAGE LAW
long tended to the disintegration of social as well as married
life, by interpreting freedom of contract solely from the
point of view of the isolated individual. I cannot believe
that we shall for long now continue to identify the advance
of civilization with the loosening of the marriage law; or
assume, instinctively, that progressive legislation lies always
in the direction of facilitating divorce.
But, my brethren, these newer ideals that are so rapidly
reorganizing our mental structure bring with them dangers
of another kind. Ever since Plato sketched his wonderful
Republic, it has been clear that the very fervour of an ideal
belief in the unity of the social body might hasten and
inspire an attack on marriage. 'Marriage,' 'The family,'
'The home' — these too often appear to such a belief to
be the toughest obstacles against which it violently clashes.
These, it fancies, are the final entrenchments behind which
a stubborn Individualism obstinately resists. Safely laagered
in this refuge, it refuses social assimilation. For Socialism,
then, to leave marriage alone is to leave the foe in posses-
sion of all the fortresses which dominate the open country,
which alone has yet been won. Nothing has been achieved
so long as the corporate life of the community, with its
common joys and common sorrows, its mutual responsi-
bilities and mutual service, is blocked at the threshold of
the home, within which, secreted and secure, the married
pair laugh at the futile efforts to ' nationalize ' a life which
they intend to live to themselves alone.
So, again and again, the case has presented itself, and will
present itself, to passionate Socialistic reformers ; and this
attack is all the more serious because it springs from what is
highest and noblest in their creed. It is zeal for the full
realization of brotherhood and of unity which tempts them
to irritated violence against the obstructions that seem to
bar advance.
Yet marriage and the home are, in reality, the very oppo-
sites of what such Socialism supposes. Far from being the
MARRIAGE LAW
[33
true strongholds of Individualism, they are its exact anti-
thesis. Marriage is the eternal declaration that human life
is realized and perfected in community; in giving, not in
taking ; in service and surrender to another, not in self-regard,
or self-culture, or self-isolation. In asserting this law as the
prime necessity determining the continuance of the race,
marriage roots the law in the innermost seat and principle of
our being. It proclaims that law to be no accidental crown
to our enjoyment. Rather, it is the basal verity without
which we should not exist at all.
In marriage, therefore, lies the germ of the community, of
the State — the germ of every claim by which it is made
illogical and impossible for any one of us to imagine that he
may live his life to himself alone. We belong to others by
the mere fact of existing ; and our own life becomes fertile,
and realizes its fulness, only so far as it goes out from itself,
and incorporates itself with another. This is the innermost
truth of our being, which alone can interpret it, whether in
the height of its spiritual aspirations, or in the length of its
intellectual attainments, or in the breadth of its social en-
largements, or in the depths of its fleshly instincts and
motives. All through the finest fibres of the soul this one
note rings out as the secret of the mystery— the note of a
love that lives by giving itself away ; and marriage is ever
and always its concrete manifestation, its ineffaceable evi-
dence, its unconquerable proof. Nor does the mystery so
proclaimed arrest itself at man. Community of life, com-
mingling of spirit, these are the hidden springs of that Divine
intercourse, that sacrificial Blessedness which is the Eternal
Godhead. * God is Love.' * This is a great mystery, but I
speak concerning Christ and His Church.'
Now, if this be the heart of marriage, it can be only
through some miserable blunder that it should be ' suspect '
of Socialism. And what is the blunder ? Is it not the old
and familiar one of opposing the general to the particular ?
We fancy that in order to love all men more we must love
134 MARRIAGE LAW
each separate man less. We suppose that a strong personal
affection for one must be in collision with the universal
affection for all. But, in reality, if it is, it has falsified
itself. The right way to love all men better is so to love
one friend with all your heart and with all your soul, that in
him you may learn to love every man who is in his likeness,
and of his nature. An intense personal attachment is the
training-ground in which we find out how wonderfully lov-
able a thing man is. If it be true to itself, it will act as an
inspiration to prompt and kindle in us a tender kindliness
for every man, woman, or child that we meet. The human
race at large becomes tangible, actual, comprehensiblcj
lovable in the face of him to whom our heart goes out in
such abundance. If we fail to find our general sympathies
widened by the intensity of a particular affection, we have
somehow disturbed and hindered its own proper instinctive
movements.
So with marriage. It is the ground of our corporate
existence in society. It evokes within its own sphere the
very temper of altruism, of mutual service, of incorporated
interests, which has only got to be extended to become the
true tone of the social citizen. And the way to extend it is,
therefore, not to abolish the smaller sphere of its exercise,
but, on the contrary, to fortify, to protect, to enrich, to
intensify it. The closer and warmer the home affection, the
larger and stronger should become those social instincts
which make life inconceivable except in a community, and
which constitute it a matter of sheer habit and of unmitigated
joy to think always of others as well as one's self, to asso-
ciate others with every word and work, to devote to the
common welfare the richest energies with which man is
endowed. Nowhere but in the home can these gifts be
won. Their vigour will be proportionate to the fulness of
the experience and of the encouragement which they have
received through the happy opportunities of home. And if
they stop short at the domestic limits, and refuse to open
MARRIAGE LAW 135
out to their wider office, they sin against the home as much
as against the State.
All the motives, then, which make us keen to emphasize
the enduring and paramount demands that the community
should make on the individual's conscience; keen to urge
upon the individual his responsibihties to the body cor-
porate, and the moral need of heroic surrender to the public
well-being; should force us to emphasize, with an equal
anxiety and enthusiasm, the permanent and stable and re-
sponsible claims made over him by marriage. If the State
is to be firm and high, so must marriage be, which is its
fundamental discipline and school. If the State is to receive
the light and inspiration of an Ideal, then marriage, too, must
stand on Ideal grounds.
My brothers, what is the Ideal to be? That is the
challenge which every year you will find driven home upon
you with stronger and stronger insistence. You will be
compelled to handle the marriage laws. The pressure of
social forces is bound to require this of you. From all-
sides the pressure arrives. Sometimes from the side of
what is noblest and finest in the modern movement, as, for
instance, from the larger recognition of a woman's freedom
and a woman's right. Sometimes, on the contrary, it will
proceed from the terrible moral dismtegration which is inci-
dent to a time of vast social change and of religious chaos.
Anyhow, it will come. And let me remind you, this law
of marriage, which you will be compelled to touch and treat,
has been taken wholly away from its ancient Ecclesiastical
Administration, and committed to the Secular Parliament
to direct, and to the Civil Courts to apply.
Quite rightly ! I am not disputing this, or doubting its
fitness. Only remember what that involves. Behind its
old administration under ecclesiastical supervision, derived
from canon law, there was always assumed a controlling and
inspiring and sanctioning force, a fixed and unshaken
authority— the Christian ideal of marriage. The law rested
on this, beyond argument, beyond doubt.
136 MARRIAGE LA W
Now, under its civil condition, under its secular adminis-
tration, are you going to retain that ideal as your basis and
your trust ? Are you, or not ? That is the question of
questions ! We have imagined for so long that by handing
public affairs over to secular bodies to deal with, we shall
avoid religious problems, that we have come to fancy that
even the law of marriage, if so handed over, can be deter-
mined by plain common-sense and considerations of general
expediency. But, as we started by saying, this vague sup-
position of a divorce between secular and religious interests,
even if it can make a shift to manage most things, must be
brought up short at this particular point. Marriage necessi-
tates a positive ideal. And this ideal must have its base in
the spiritual life. For, indeed, it lays such a tremendous strain
on our powers of self-sacrifice for others, it involves such
momentous responsibilities and such far-reaching issues, that
nothing less than a spiritual ideal can have weight and
authority enough to carry it through. Without this — if once
it drops to the level of mere expediencies and utilities ; if
ever it be discussed, and handled, and legislated for, and
adaiinistered on the materialistic grounds that are so inevit-
able to the average man of the world — it is bound to go
under ; it is bound to yield and break. The personal crises
involved in its course are so intense, so manifold, and so
severe, that nothing but an appeal to the spirit of self-
sacrifice can carry men or women through them ; and self-
sacrifice can only be made at the altar of an authoritative or
supreme ideal.
An ideal ! We cannot be without it here ! We cannot !
And we dare not ! for all round us, and within us, the hideous
and awful powers of passion are waiting in the darkness for
the opportunities offered by our indecision. Wherever we
slacken in theory, or totter in will, or falter in insight, they
press in, they rush forward, they seize the advantage, they
gather to the onset. Hardly even at our best can we hold
the fort of purity ; hardly can we withstand the swarming
hosts that even now are ever on the verge of victory. Let
MARRIAGE LAW 137
but one gate be opened, let but one wall be breached, and
the day is lost.
How shall we stand? Under whose flag are we fighting ?
Is there treachery in the camp ? or can we hold together, as
one army under one Captain, that will die, but never sur- |
render? The question is passing round from mouth to |
mouth — from soul to soul ! The challenge is ringing in '
your ears to-day ! A flag there must be, and a Captain
whom we obey, or the ranks will sunder and fly. What is \
it? Who is He? \
There is One who, as Son of man, claimed lordship over
all that man is. There is One who flushed, at the marriage
in Cana of Galilee, the water of human life with the rich ^
wine of His own benediction. There is One who poured ,'
into the marriage union the strength and sanction of His
own mysterious union with His Church.
He has endowed it with an ideal form by which it has
withstood the incessant deterioration of lust, and has proved
its power to survive the lapse of degradation, and to revive
and to purify itself anew, and to establish itself, and to grow,
and to show promise of yet finer issues to come.
That ideal has regulated hitherto all the main efforts of
our civilization to secure, and govern, and liberate marriage.
That ideal has yet much more work which it could do,
in the way of demanding of man something approaching
the self-sacrifice which marriage must always demand of
women. It is for you and me, my brethren, to say whether
it yet shall rule our inward thoughts, and guide our public
actions. It is for you and me to nerve and brace ourselves
to hold fast its law in voluntary obedience, even if it should
come about that the conditions of a community which is now
so largely non-Christian, should render it unfair and im-
possible to impose the full Christian ideal by law.
In any case we shall be sorely pressed ! And we shall
only have the strength to endure if we win it out of His
own Name, who, however hard be the obedience He
requires, will always. Himself, give us the grace to fulfil it.
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION.
BY THE
REV. G. W. GENT,
PRINCIPAL OF ST. MARK'S TRAINING COLLEGE, CHELSEA.
M;/c/ He took a child, and set him
n the midst of them' — St. Mark
X. 36.
I HAVE thought it well to take this text this morn-
ing, not because it suggests or is connected with
any lesson as to the religious education of children,
but because it may recall to us, in all that we to-day
consider together, the constant remembrance which our
Lord had of children, the constant likeness there would
seem to have been before His mind between their innocence
and the characteristics required of those who were to be
worthy members of the kingdom of heaven. Those of you
who are familiar with the Baptismal Service of the Church
of England know how closely, in this matter, the Church
has followed the example of her Master.
We shall all agree, doubtless, in some such definition of
' Religious Education ' as this, that it is the teaching to a
child of its duty in relation to God. That is to say, we
shall teach the child to do right, because righteousness is
the will of God ; and to abstain from doing wrong, because
wrong-doing is hateful to God. Yet with this we shall, for
the child's own comfort, teach it also that God is slow to
anger and merciful ; that its natural childlike sorrow for
having done wrong is acceptable in His sight; that it is
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 139
possible with Him to begin afresh, and to make, in the
future, some amendment for the sins of the past. And
already, I would bid you notice, we are entering upon the
circle of distinctively Christian ideas. We have come, I
mean, within the range of that all but universal human
instinct which cries out for a Mediator between God and
man. If, that is to say, we are to have His will brought
home to us under conditions which man can understand ;
if, conscious of the gulf which our sins set between God
and us, we are to come to Him with confidence and hope ;
then we inevitably require, we unceasingly look for, one
who shall represent God to us, and ourselves to God. So
false is it, indeed, that either for the adult or the child the
facts of Christ's history come first, and that upon them is
then built the ' superstructure ' of Christian ideas ; so true
that the child and the adult, and the child more than the
adult, respond at once to the ideas, and find the greatest
confirmation of the truth of the historical facts of Christ's
life and death, in the supreme fact that these correspond to
ideas so human and so universal that practically they may
be called innate.
Thus, then, through this intimate correspondence be-
tween the heart and conscience of man, on one side, and
the facts, historical and dogmatic, which Christianity alleges,
on the other, we are brought face to face, at the outset, with
what is the chief question of which I have to treat this
morning : Are we to teach the great Christian dogmas to
children ? and if so, how in general are we to teach them ?
The mediatorship of Christ, for instance, with the two-fold
truth which that involves of the Incarnation and the Atone-
ment— are we to teach such doctrines to children, or are we
to follow the way of those who tell us to teach simply the
facts of Christ's earthly story, and leave them to discover
later on in life the meaning which gives those facts their
full significance?
1. This important question is often, as we all know, dealt
140 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION
with in a very cavalier manner. ' These doctrines of which
you speak,' it is said, 'are really matters of dogma; and the
minds of children are not fitted to receive or to understand
dogma; therefore dogma must be postponed.' Whether it
be really true that the minds of children are unfitted to
comprehend, at least, the practical scope of the great Chris-
tian dogmas is a point on which I shall have something to
say presently. My immediate concern is with the implica-
tion contained in the remark which I have quoted, namely,
that religious instruction can be given without the intro-
duction of dogma. Surely, the thought of those who so
speak is in subjection to a word rather than to the meaning
of that word ; they are so incensed at the word ' dogma '
that they do not stop to ask themselves what, after all, the
word means. Yet ' dogma ' means nothing more at bottom
than the statement in some form of words of what one be-
lieves to be true ; and I would respectfully ask what teach-
ing there is which is not, in some way or other, a stating of
what one beheves in words, and how anyone whose business
it is to teach the young is to set out upon that work, if he
be denied the use of compendiums and formularies? I
know that it has been proposed to teach arithmetic without
making children learn the multiplication table, and that
some eccentric teachers would postpone telling a child that
the earth goes round the sun until he is of an age to under-
stand the reasoning on which that truth — always more
amazing to children than any miracle — is founded. But
the experience of practical teachers in all ages will be found,
I believe, to confirm the common-sense view that you can-
not teach everything to a child at once, but that it must
begin by beHeving many things, even in mathematics and
science, upon authority, before it can hope to establish
them by independent inquiry. Yet this causing of children
to learn, as true, statements which, from the nature of the
case, they can only receive ' upon authority,' is of the very
essence of ' dogmatic instruction ' ; and if my supposed op-
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 141
ponent tells me that it is only in the religious sphere, and
not in the secular, that he objects to such 'dogmatic in-
struction,' then, as I cannot but think, his plight is worse
than before. For it is not easy to conceive of any religious
instruction which does not begin by teaching the child that
God exists ; and this is a statement not only dogmatic in
form, but dogmatic also in the fact that for children, as
indeed for most adults, it comes and must come ' upon
authority.'
2. Dogmatic instruction, then, at some point or other we
cannot escape, either in religious or secular learning. Our
opponents only come to grapple with us when they assert
either that the dogmas we wish to teach are false — which is
not a contention with which I have to deal this morning —
or that they are incomprehensible to children, to which
point I now return.
' Return,' I say, for I have already given it as my opinion
that children are even more quick to understand the great
ideas which the Christian scheme of redemption enshrines —
the ideas of goodness, of transgression, of penitence, of forgive-
ness— than they are to be interested in the facts of our Lord's
life upon earth as narrated in the Gospels. This is a point
which I must leave, of course, to your own experience of
children, or to your recollections of your own childhood ;
for my own part, I have never come across a child, and I
do not believe it to be possible to come across a child, at
least over the age of seven, to whom it is not only practic-
able, but easy, to give a well-comprehended idea of Chris-
tianity as a system of religion, and not merely as telling a
beautiful story of Jesus of Nazareth. If this is not always
the case, or if Christianity has sometimes been put before
children in a perverted or unintelligible way, then, I say,
this is not because those children have been taught the
dogmas of Christianity instead of the simple facts, but
because they have been taught the dogmas after a bad
method. Children must be taught the dogmas of their religion
142 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION
— as they must be taught everything else — after a method
suited to the degree and capacity of their intelligence.
Now, it is a well-known principle of the science of teaching
— or, to use its hideous modern name, the science of
pedagogy — that examples and illustrations shall precede, in
any subject, the learning of the abstract rule which they
embody ; or, at least, that illustration and rule shall be in
close contact with each other. Yet this principle, now
universally recognised in secular instruction, is extraordi-
narily often forgotten by those whose duty it is to give a child
an intelligible account of the main dogmas of religion.
The child is set down to learn the Apostles' Creed or
Catechism, says it by heart, and is then supposed to have
received ' sound Church teaching ' — as to which I can only
say that it makes very little difference, in such a case,
whether the 'Church teaching' is ' sound' or not; it will
not last, because it will not have been brought into any sort
of contact with the child's own experience. Every right
rule of teaching is, in fact, reversed by teachers who thus
hang the whole weight of their teaching upon the formulary;
they are replacing the familiar illustration and con- rete
example, which children love, by the mere abstract state-
ment which children are at such a loss to apply. Do I,
then, for a moment deny the value of the abstract state-
ment ? No ; but I say that, in order to have that value, it
must be taught to children hand in hand with the concrete
example and familiar experience which lights it up, partially
if not wholly. You wish, for instance, to teach a child the
doctrine of the Atonement. Then, if you are wise, you
will begin by recalling to the child some experience of its
owii, in which another child interceded for it, or possibly
bore part of its punishment. That child will understand
you afterwards, when you go on to instruct it that Christ is
the Mediator between God and men. If you cannot do
this so easily with all Christian doctrines, you can at least
do something of the kind with all of them. Believe me,
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION
143
a child to whom Christian doctrines have been made thus
practically real, when it comes to the 'generalizing age,'
the age of fourteen or fifteen, will recognise as familiar
friends the more elaborately-stated truths which a fuller
teaching will then put before it.
3. You thus see that, while I advocate that Christianity
should be taught dogmatically from the earliest age— and,
indeed, if it is not to be dogmatically taught, I do not see
how it can be taught at all — I nevertheless hold that dogma
should be taught to children after a different method from
that in which it may be taught to adults — by the method,
namely, of illustration and concrete example rather than by
that of abstract statement. I believe this to be the natural,
and therefore the most truly educational, manner of bringing
children to an ultimate and intelligent acceptance of the
great doctrines of their rehgion. But it is quite clear that
if the method of religious education which I defend is to
succeed, the same influence must preside over it from the
beginning to the end — the teachers must be believers, and
they must be religiously-minded men. They must be be-
hevers, because only a believer will be able to select and to
treat the illustrations and examples, of which I have spoken,
in such a way as to make them convincingly lead up to the
dogmas or abstract statements of which they are meant to
be the embodiment. I do not think this point needs labour-
ing at. But, again, those who teach ought not only to be
behevers, but also religious men. True education, as we
have begun to see even in secular learning, does not consist
in the facts with which the memory is filled, or the rational
principles with which the intellect is enlightened. All that
may be done, and yet the child be turned out nothing better
than a walking dictionary or an intellectual self-seeker.
Education, in the highest or the deepest sense of that
much abused word, means primarily this — the influence of
character upon character. If it is true, as it indubitably
is, that the character of the man who imparts their secular
144 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION
instruction, and the mode in which he imparts it, will have
a lasting influence upon the children who are taught, much
more is it true that the character of the man who imparts to
them religious instruction, and the mode in which he teaches
this, will have a lasting influence upon the way in which the
children conceive of religion. This point again needs no
labouring. Only, I have said so much in order that we
may remind ourselves that the best paper schemes of reli-
gious instruction can never work, unless we are also careful
as to the hands in which we place the actual teaching.
I have been laying down leading principles ; and in the
consideration of them, my brethren, we have ascended to
great heights. But here, at our feet, in the workaday
world around us, there is controversy and strife : and I
must say something of it.
It would indeed be unreal if, preaching on this subject,
I were not to say a word on the struggle which is at this
moment going on at the London School Board. Why,
then, are Churchmen as a whole opposed to the School
Board system of religious instruction ? Let me premise in
the first place that it is not out of mere jealousy of the
Board schools. We should be well content to let the Board
schools go their way, if the same measure of justice were
dealt out to the religious instruction which is given in our
schools as is rendered to that given in theirs. We have a
most real grievance so long as the rates paid by Churchmen
are taken to pay for undenominational religious instruction
in which we do not believe, whilst at the same time we are
compelled to tax ourselves in order to support the schools
in which the Church instruction, in which we do believe, is
given. But setting that on one side, why are we unable to
accept for our children the religious instruction of the Board
schools ? I say no word against the teachers, who, to my
knowledge, are in the main a body of Christian men, work-
ing hard and doing their best. But behind the teachers are
the Boards who employ them; and what Churchman can be
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 145
content with such a shding scale of rehgious teaching as is
revealed, when we compare, for instance, the religious syl-
labus of the Board of Birmingham with that of the School
Board for London, or know that many members of the
School Board for London itself are willing, and even anxious,
to leave the Divinity of our Lord an open question ? We
have a deeper difficulty in the very character of the unde-
nominational teaching itself. Such teaching may suit the
great English Nonconformist bodies, which one and all
make the real spiritual life of the individual begin when he
has undergone some crisis of conversion or election, which
may, indeed, occur at any time, but which is not usually
expected to occur till after the period of childhood is over.
I can understand why those who so believe think it enough
if Bible facts alone, without Bible doctrines, are put before
the minds of children. It is enough, in such a case, if the
child be given the facts which, when the moment of conver-
sion comes, will enable him to understand his emotions and
profit by them. But the Church's standpoint in regard to
children is wholly different. She regards them as already
made members of Christ at their baptism in earliest infancy.
She wants to remind them of that privilege and of the re-
sponsibility it involves. She wants them to understand that
the work of Christ's redemption has already touched them ;
to tell them how they may come to God, without uncer-
tainty, when they fall into temptation or sin ; to show them
the way of pardon and of new strength already open for
them. She wants also to lead them on towards Confirma-
tion, and to teach them something of sacramental grace.
In a word, she cannot be content until to her own children
she can teach the Church Catechism. And as none of
these things are possible to her under the existing Board-
school system, she cannot accept that system as a system of
national education, unless and until, under it, there is
possible for the Church children who attend Board schools
an instruction in Christianity which is after a Church and
10
146 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION
not after a non-Church fashion. That is our whole case.
We have no wish as a Church, as we certainly have no right
as a Church, to hinder the State from giving to the children
of England the excellent secular education which it rightly
deems necessary in the primary schools. But we do re-
spectfully demand that such primary education shall be
given under such conditions as shall render it possible for
Church children to receive, along with it, the definite re-
ligious instruction which their parents desire.
We make the demand in the name of Him whose repre-
sentatives we are ; we ask for the same liberty as our
Master had ; we claim also ' to take a child and set him in
the midst of us.'
VAIN OBLATIONS.
REV. T. C. FRY,, D.D.,
HEADMASTER OF BERKHAMSTED SCHOOL, AUTHOR OF 'A SOCIAL
POLICY FOR THE CHURCH.'
^ Bring no more vain oblations . . .
I cannot away ivith iniquity, and the
solemn meeting . . . IVash you, make
you clean.' — Isaiah i. 13- 16.
THE Sermon on the Mount and the Public
Health Acts — something of a contrast here!
A Christian nation, with an Established
Church, and a burning need for penalty on
iniquity and neglect ' Oblations made vain ' by the pre-
sence of uncured evils that brand our profession with
hypocrisy. The ' solemn meetings ' of respectable parish-
ioners at matins, and the iniquity of high rents for the
slum-dwellings of great cities. These are surely the con-
trasts that Almighty God ' cannot away with.' In our ears,
as in the ears of eighth century Judaism, should ring the
prophet's warning cry : ' Wash you, make you clean.' At
times we flatter ourselves at our progress, as we count up
our Sanitary Acts ; well, perhaps we might do so justly, if
we called ourselves heathen still. But we confess allegiance
to Christ ; and He bid us deal with our neighbours as we
would be dealt by. Just so, we say ; that is the very
reason v;hy we pass PubHc Health Acts.
148 VAIN OBLATIONS
Let us hope so ; but is that the reason why we need to
pass them ?
' Well, of course, there is so much sanitary ignorance.
The poor are so prejudiced against open windows, and so
unconscious of danger as to ashpits.'
Ignorance ? ignorance of the poor ? is tka^ the only
cause of our difficulty ? is it to remove by object-lessons the
ignorance of the poor that we have put penalties into the
Acts ? Undrained houses — you can enforce their drainage.
If you are a person of some importance, gifted with a little
courage and more obstinacy ; if the inspector of nuisances
is not first cousin to your landlord ; if your Sanitary
Authority esteem righteousness above rates, you may then
positively enforce the drainage of your own or your neigh-
bour's premises — after considerable strife. But did the
ignorant poor build these undrained houses ? do the people
who live in them pocket their rents, own the leases, or
benefit by the neighbouring clearances ? Do the men who
derive a profit from them profess a high standard of religion
or of politics ? do they profess Christ ?
Cellar dwellings — oh, the Acts are very particular about
them ; they are careful enough to rule that they, too, must
have drainage, and (what is more) proper areas and some
light. How thoughtful ! how Christian ! how self-sacrificing !
Is it, then, possible that, except for this law, by the pressure
of legally-recoverable economic rent in a Christian land,
human beings of our own nation, and possibly of our own
faith, might be driven for shelter into holes in the ground ?
Did this really happen before we actually rose to the
level of this remarkable provision ?
Streams, again, first amongst God's most beautiful gifts —
streams cannot be polluted, the law says so ; though some
of us who know some English streams might not, on any
less authority, believe it. Are they, then, turned into water-
ways of poison and death, because drains are dearer and
will raise the rates ? Some houses too, if unfit for human
VAIN OBLATIONS
149
habitation, can (mostly after lawsuits) be pulled down ; yet
are they generally rented to the last hour of their accursed
life.
And is all this the mere unfortunate result of ignorance
of sanitary law ? No, indeed ; our Christian profession is
a lie in the mouth of all who profit by this, or who are inert
or indifferent about it. Christianity is the whitewash of the
vestryman, the mill-owner, the cottage-owner — great or small
— the selfish politician, the satisfied ratepayer, who either
sees all this and says nothing, or grows fat upon its evils.
The two deadly foes of life and truth in this matter are
greed and indifference. Indifference is greed's best ally.
Indifference, with dull selfish eyes, from its coign of vantage,
coldly watches the reformer's fall. '7 live on the hill,' it
says ; ' why should I pay for my parish drains in the
valley ? / don't live over a sewer ; thank God, my children
do not sleep in a cellar. I only own a cellar to keep wine
in ; I don't need to let it for other people to sleep in. It is
all very horrid, of course, but it is a question for law, for
police, not for me. I do not wish to make needless
enemies.'
But, my indifferent brother, greed has so drafted its laws
as to suck its gains from your inertness. The law seldom
knows compulsion ; it is unworkable at times, when authority
sleeps, except through some ratepayer like you. Have you
no responsibility in the matter ? Yes, depend upon it, the
word is very near you : ' Inasmuch as ye did it not for the
least of these My brethren, ye did it not for Me.'
' Well,' you say, ' I do not wish to be inert. I should
like to do something. But the question is so vast. How
am I to begin ?'
'Vast,' yes; it is on that word that the man with vested
interest relies. At each municipal election, that would
sweep out his Augean stable, if the broom could be got into
the right hands, he confuses the issue. He alarms the con-
scientious. He arouses the bigot. He allies himself with
I50 VAIN OBLATIONS
the wirepuller. He bribes the needy or the drunken. He
flatters the partisan. So he wins, and the evil goes on.
* What can you do ?' Realize your own personal responsi-
bility as part of the social organism. See clearly the moral
claims of cleanliness, fit dwellings, pure water, streams free
from poison. See how the stunted soul is cribbed within
the stunted body in the City slum ; see how disease and
death grow out of the miasma that you need not live near.
' It does not touch j^z/r homes.' No ! but that only deepens
your debt to the community. Some of the men and women
in those overcrowded tenements, those airless cellars, those
undrained streets, are actually producing for you (in the
complex interaction of social conditions) the margin of
profit or economy that has dra.med your house or has kept
the roses in your children's cheeks.
We send our anarchists to the guillotine, but why do we
not realize that we may be ourselves creating, or at least
permitting, the very conditions which breed the discontent
out of which the anarchist makes his converts ? And if our
own conditions raise us beyond the reach of any such hope-
less propaganda, do we realize why God has granted them
to us ? Is it not to arouse us to the very worth and need
of the great crusade, on behalf of the less happy? Go
home to-night, then, and plan at once an active union of
a few resolute friends, who shall do for your own neigh-
bourhood, or for some less favoured quarter, what Mr.
Horsley — to his lasting honour — has done for the 'Dust-
hole ' at Woolwich. Make it your ambition, for Christ's
sake, to count up the number of unfit dwellings you have
helped to close, of cellars you have emptied, of streets
you have drained, of pure supplies of water you have seen
given. Or go down to the Oxford House in Bethnal
Green and in evenings won from personal pleasure help
those who are fighting like evils in various ways. Or send
us some of your superfluous money to the White Cross
League in Dean's Yard, where month by month we meet,
VAIN OBLATIONS i^l
and out of a failing exchequer strive to bring home to
men's consciousness the intimate connection between
housing and immorahty ; and our exchequer fails, because
immorality, though it blights our land, is 'really so difficult
to mention.' The Bishops do not know how to make their
clergy take the whole question up ; and the clergy are often
quite sure that it is wisest to keep silence about it ; and the
men of Clubland run away as soon as the subject ceases to
be risque and brings home God's judgment to the con-
science ; and it must not be named plainly in West-End
Churches, for fear of offence. Yet if every man who reads this
were to send us ten shillings to-night, we could do such a
work in this mission as we have never yet been able to do.
Can you do all this and make no enemies ? No, you
are sure to make enemies.
Rejoice, when in the cause of sanitary homes you are
ill spoken of, or even persecuted, by the Scribes and Phari-
sees of modern life, the men who whiten the sepulchre in
which lies buried their neighbours' well-being and their own
eternal hope. P^or the real root of these evils is greed-
greed battening on defenceless lives; greed defying law;
greed prospering on the degradation of the poor. If ever
you engage in a sanitary fight, you will find in it a clearer
revelation of the base in human nature than in almost any
other conflict. Oh ! can there be amongst Christians to-day
anyone who ever pockets one shilling for the neglect of
needs like these? anyone who cares not, so long as he
gets his rent, to ask how his rent is earned or is deserved ?
Then, may God have mercy on his soul ! for drink, disease,
decay, handed on by heredity to another generation, thrive
and breed and prosper herein. The casual worker is
thus degraded; the unemployed is thus manufactured
The very future of English labour, then, rests on the en-
forcement of sanitary laws. Expose, therefore, the hypo-
crisy of the religious rack-renter; expose the lack of
patriotism in the indifferent.
152 VAIN OBLATIONS
How many an infidel is created by such evils, who shall
say ? Can we do less than wonder at the supreme patience
of the poor, to whom, though they be her own children,
England at the present price of City land cannot give the
shelter a stepmother might not grudge the least valued and
the least loved ?
Economy? By all means let us have economy, if it
means less luxury, less waste, less indulgence ; but not an
economy that defeats itself, that breeds heathen, that de-
grades labour, that bleeds chastity to death.
This hateful gospel of 'getting on,' bred of laissez-faire
economics and men's selfishness ; this craving after wealth ;
this rule of the successful usurer ; this ' rem, quo cunque
modo rem ' ; this competition in pleasure, is like a serpent
winding its slimy coils round the strong limbs of England.
At one end of our social gradient we have the fortune-
hunter, who has forgotten to be a founder ; at the other, the
undersized, the under-fed, the over-tempted, the sweated,
and the workless.
On whom does it depend whether these things can be
altered ? On you and on me — on us, with ears to hear and
eyes to see. Some changes in the law, in themselves slight,
would do much. Let us demand from our legislators the
extension to all England of Ritchie's Metropolitan Act of
1891 ; let us make medical officers of health and inspectors
of nuisances irremovable, save with consent of the Local
Government Board ; let us grade, pay, and promote them
for good work done ; let us extend to England the Irish
Labourers Acts ; let us write must for may in all sanitary
legislation ; let us increase our inspectors ; let fines be large
enough to deter. Let us give to candidates for our division
the option between these changes and the loss of our votes.
But let us also, with clean hands ourselves, set to work to
create a higher Church tone upon these matters. Let us
put pressure from such changed tone upon our leaders,
especially our ecclesiastical leaders, to trust the English
VAIN OBLATIONS 153
people rather than the London vestries ; to push forward
sanitary legislation in quarters whither God has sent them
on purpose — legislation in which for the jerry-builder and
the slum-owner there shall be no possibility of contracting
out.
A united Episcopate, that dared to originate some pro-
posals on City-betterment or on a municipal death-duty, if
only by way of hint to a Ministry, and to suggest the ear-
marking of funds thus obtained, that they might only be used
for housing the poor, might fearlessly face a few worthless
epigrams even from peers, strong in the love and gratitude
of a wider brotherhood amongst suffering populations.
But let us not forget ourselves. ' Me, me adsum qui
feci.' Our tone it is that has made this possible. Why and
for whom have we voted ? For doing or for not doing what
have we criticised the Home Office or any other authority?
Has it not seemed to us as if Lent had only a message of
penitence for the neglect of some spiritual duty, and no
bearing upon claims such as these ? That is not the teach-
ing of theology, if its Canon still includes the Jewish pro-
phets. That is not the teaching of the Gospel, if the
lesson of the Gadarene demoniac has still a meaning for the
world.
There they are, our demoniacs, amongst the tombs of an
insanitary life, possessed with the devils of disease, degra-
dation, and impurity ; the chains of law, and even of re-
spectability, they rend ; really, no well-to-do person can
always safely pass that way. They are an offence unto us.
And Christ is on our shores, too — the Christ we profess
to follow. We may be freed from our devils if we will ;
but we must pay the cost.
VVe can have our outcasts back, clothed by a living wage,
and in their right mind for culture and faith ; but we must
surrender our swine.
If, for the sake of the human hope for our fellows, we
cannot forego our comfort, our time, much less the dirty
154 VAIN OBLATIONS
money our pigs bring us; if we must have, even at this
cost, the ground-rent of our slums, the margin that comes
to us out of ruinous contracts and sweated wages and high
rents, Christ tells us plainly that we are no followers of His,
say we ' Lord, Lord,' as loud as we may.
' What shall we do, men of this wealthiest of the world's
cities ? Shall we give our swine to save our fellows, or
shall we with one consent entreat the Christ ' to depart out
of our coasts ' ?
RECREATION.
BY THE
HON. AND REV. E. LYTTLETON,
HEADMASTER OF HAILEYBURY.
' Whether therefore ye eat, or
drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to
the glory of God.' — i CoR. x. 31.
THE subject of this morning's sermon is a very
wide one, and I therefore make no apology for
plunging at once into it. What is recreation ?
is our first question. Secondly, How far is the
true idea of recreation being observed at the present time ?
Thirdly, Is there anything we can do ?
1. A moment's reflection will convince us that many of
the prevailing notions about recreation fall very far short of
the meaning of the word itself. There is a strange and
striking dignity of idea in this word. We men never dare
think of ourselves as creators of anything, however much we
may flatter ourselves on our skill in fashioning and working
with a given material. But for a large portion of our lives
we speak of ourselves as re-creating, or bringing into being
something which has been spent. That which we re-create
is spent energy ; and the power of doing this is one of the
most precious of those with which we have been endowed,
and yet, in the common notions on the subject there is much
that is trivial and very little that is dignified. People talk
and think of recreation as if it meant simply bodily exercise,
156 RECREATION
or absolute inertia, or some empty pastime. But if the word
really means bringing into life again energies that are failing,
surely it points to something higher than this.
Recreation depends on the compound character of men's
being. We consist of body, mind, and spirit, and the
simple fact is that the true well-being of these three consti-
tuents depends on the harmonious employment of all three
in due succession and in orderly proportion. In its highest
sense recreation is not rest, except in the sense in which
that word is applied to God's unceasing, unhasting energy
of action ; but it is a change of activity. Unless there has
been a violation of natural laws, the best way to recruit the
mind is to exercise the body. This, I take it, we all
recognise ; but we are less alive to the fact that the best
way to recruit the body is to employ the mind. Still less
do we clearly perceive that the truest recreation of both
body and mind is to exercise the spirit. You will say, per-
haps, that when a man is thoroughly tired out in body or
mind he cannot employ other faculties, or, if he does, the
effort is injurious. But I answer that this is an indication
of excess which requires artificial treatment, and is a viola-
tion of the laws of harmonious activity. If recreation must
take the form of inertia, or pure idling, it is a sign of disease.
If the mind, for instance, is so exhausted that the powers of
the body are for the time paralyzed, no doubt there has
been overstraining. Our bodies ought never to be so tired
that we cannot use our brains ; and neither body nor brain
should demand such complete inactivity as to forbid us to lift
up our thoughts in prayer. True rest is a change of activity.
How has the statesman who is just now retiring after sixty
years of unparalleled expenditure of energy, how has he
maintained the well-being of bodily and mental faculties
through all these years ? By a constant succession of varia-
tions of activity. There is the secret ! Man is not meant
to be a creature of one activity. That is why our religion
consists of a combination of faith and works. That is why
RECREATION 157
the character of our Blessed Lord manifested such a won-
derful blending of the active and the contemplative life —
patient and prolonged expenditure of energy alternating with
the solitary hours on the Galilean hills. People often talk
with enthusiasm about the simple creed of Christianity being
the imitation of the character of Christ. If it be so, at least
let us recognise this double element, and try our best not to
deprive our social or political or philanthropic energy of the
unspeakably precious recreation of spiritual communion with
the Most High.
II. So much, then, for the principle of recreation. The
Anglo-Saxons have been forward in giving it prominence in
the national life. Our idea of recreation has been a narrow
one, and far too much identified with bodily exercise. But
still it has played, and is playing, a very important part in
our development. What, then, has been the origin and
motive power of our national games ?
Perhaps I should be rash in attempting to give a very
positive answer. It is well known that through the influence
of the Puritans, a large number of national and popular
games were extinguished during the seventeenth and eigh-
teenth centuries, and it seems as if there were some close
connection between the revival of games and the rise of our
great industrial system. The first set of rules for the game
of cricket dates from 1774, just five years after Watt took
out his patent for the steam-engine, and belonging to the
same decade as that in which our domestic system was trans-
formed into a factory system by Hargreaves, Arkwright, and
Crompton. Does it not look as if the increasing industrial
toil led our energetic operatives to find the needful recrea-
tion in outdoor games ? We must not be too sure. Cricket,
for many a long year, was mainly confined to the youth of
the upper classes ; but still we should not forget that, during
the stimulus of competition and the feverish energy of work
which have marked the last thirty years, we have witnessed
the rise, growth and popularization of football. Surely
158 RECREATION
this was a healthy symptom ! Surely the introduction of
this excellent form of recreation deserved to be welcomed,
as a sign that there was still life and vigour in England ?
But, alas ! it is against the best institutions and agencies
that Satan puts forth his greatest strength. The tendency
of good things to degenerate is the saddest feature in social
life. Let us look closely at some of the causes of decay of
our great English game.
It has not been necessary for anything violent to be done.
If, as I believe, the corruption of what is best is the work
of our watchful spiritual enemy, he had a pattern before him
to guide him in his work, and show him where the poison could
be instilled with most effect. You have heard enough, and
perhaps more than enough, of the corruption of our
industrial system. Certain it is that there are vast evils con-
nected with it — interlaced with it, and so incorporated with
it that the best men are well-nigh in despair of a remedy.
I don't wish to dwell on these, but to remind you of the
cause. Something has worked secretly and silently through
all these years and gone far to spoil a grand fabric of English
enterprise and energy. What is it ? — because we find exactly
the same cause is now working havoc with our national
games. Whatever it is let us recognise it, and not be afraid
to call it by its true name — for its true name is ' covetous
ness.'
To make clear what I mean by degeneracy, let us con-
trast the two following pictures. The first refers to cricket
as it was played in many parts of the country some twenty-
five or thirty years ago. A club was formed, including men
of all classes of society — the sons of the squire, the parson,
the local gentry, the shopkeepers, the clerks in the village,
the gardeners and men-servants from the wealthier houses.
On most evenings in the week there was practice on the
ground in the squire's park, where in all friendliness these
different members of society gathered together in thoroughly
healthy play ; and their unity was still further cemented by
RECREATION 159
the good spirit evoked in the weekly matches. Keen rivalry
without bitterness, honest effort, unselfishness, manly en-
durance of failure, insight into others' claims — all these
qualities were directly encouraged by such recreation as
this ; and I doubt if any amusement so thoroughly bene-
ficial to all concerned could be found in any form of recrea-
tion known to the civilized world. Now, this has not wholly
died out yet. But let us contrast it with the other picture,
representing an Association football match in the north of
England. A club has been formed in a big town. How?
Not by local energy and love of the native country district,
but by a company with a keen eye to profit. Everything
depends, therefore, on the gate-money, as it is known that
with sufficient inducements 20,000 or 30,000 people can be
gathered together and pay so much a head to see an exciting
football match. But to make it exciting the play must be
first-rate, and what matter if the players have no con-
nection whatever with the locality ? The players are only
important as bearing on the question of spectators. So
agents are sent far and wide, mostly into Scotland, to
secure recruits to supplement the local talent if there is any.
Sometimes, it appears, every single man in the team is an
importation. From eighteen to twenty-eight years of age,
these young fellows are paid enormous wages ; if successful,
they can command their own price, and, so far from having
any interest in the particular district to which they have been
allured, their chief anxiety is to let it be known that they are
willing to transfer themselves to any other club or company
that will offer higher wages than they are now receiving.
This goes on till the prime of their youth is past, and they
are turned out into the world unfit to learn any trade, and
almost certain to be burdens on their country as long as
they live. And among the spectators — so far has the Eng-
lish instinct for fair play suffered in the prevailing frenzy —
it has, I am told, again and again happened that the life of
a referee at the end of a match is hardly safe from the mob
l6o RECREATION
of disappointed loafers who have put their money on the
losing side, and are ready for any violence against him,
though they know he has only done his duty.
This is a sad and sorry sight, my friends ; and yet even
Association football was for a few years, between 1870 and
1880, played in much the same spirit and with the same
good effects as village cricket. Its name has not always
been the mockery that it now is.
Now, what are the chief characteristics of these two forms
of so-called recreation ? The first did good in many ways,
but its chief and most admirable characteristic was the
spirit of brotherliness.
And the other? The other does harm in many ways, but
its chief characteristic is the spirit of estrangejne?it. There
is no evoking of local patriotism ; there is no concord be-
tween the managers and the rank and file ; there is suspicion,
born of greed, and smouldering animosities, because every-
body who is connected with the arrangements and the play
is bent on making money.
But we must consider some collateral and less direct
effects of this state of things. So vast and widespread an
organization is certain to tell in many subtle ways on the
tone of society. First, there is the mischief that looking-
on is substituted for bodily exercise. We have no right to
talk of national games unless we mean games that are played
by the people of the nation ; but we are drifting to a state
of things when the games will only be national because
Englishmen look at them, and those who play them are
paid £,200 or ;£3oo a year for doing so. Paid players
and vast hordes of idle spectators— these were symptoms
of the decline of Rome ; but we have a feature to add
peculiar to ourselves — our spectators come together by the
thousand for betting. And then I would have you re-
member that the unhealthy excitement caused by these
public displays goes far to corrupt the tone wherever foot-
ball is played. Such a glamour is thrown round it that it
RECREATION i6i
has become a doubtful question among some energetic
young town clergy whether they ought to encourage their
lads to form a club among themselves, the truth being that
as soon as they give themselves to a game so infected with
spurious excitement and feverish rivalry, they can think and
talk of nothing else. This means that the mischief spreads
from the centres of excitement and corrupts the outlying
districts, where there was, at least, a hope that the game
might be played in its primitive simplicity.
But there is one baneful effect of this state of things less
obvious than those I have mentioned, but well worth con-
sidering— I mean its effect on the tone of the public press.
Consider the problem set before newspaper editors. To
make a living for them, the paper must sell, and, in presence
of fierce competition, it soon becomes recognised that pence
must flow in without too much attention being paid as to
the quarter whence they come. What the average mass of
people require, that they must have, or the sale dwindles.
Now, what do average people require ? We will think of
the way a working man spends his leisure. In the afternoon
he witnesses an exciting football match ; in the evening, if
he has the chance, he goes to a political meeting — all the
more readily if he thinks the speaking will be of the vitu-
perative kind. The following morning he buys a daily
paper which professes to discuss all sorts of difficult and
complex questions relating to public affairs. Is it not cer-
tain that his appetite by this time has been quickened and
stimulated in the direction of a craving for excitement, so
that if by chance he comes across some impartial and well-
balanced decisions in the paper he finds them intolerably
dull ? He is learning, not only to feed himself on excite-
ment, but on that special form of excitement which comes
from being a spectator of a conflict ; and his natural pro-
pensity to be a partisan has been so much encouraged that
life without conflict is to him a poor and tame affair.
Hence the peculiarly modern development of abusiveness
II
1 62 RECREATION
in politics and abusiveness in the public press. A news-
paper must not only take a side, but must take it violently ;
and to anyone who knows anything of the atmosphere that
surrounds football matches, especially in the North of Eng-
land, it will not appear a fanciful or far-fetched inference to
say that this woeful eagerness to witness sharp conflict is
materially quickened by the prevalence of these violent
athletic contests in which a score of paid men play and
20,000 look on, imbibing, surely, all the mischief and none
of the benefits that belong to modern athleticism. If there
are any here who think that acute party spirit, and the de-
sire to treat politics as if they were a game between two
sides, are favourable symptoms of modern social life, they
may be content to acquiesce in modern developments of
football. But those who do not may surely trust that some
healing influence is at hand to save the tone of English
public life, and with it a grand English game.
I do not deny that there would be some justification for
calling this a needlessly sombre picture. But the gloom of
it is relieved by enough light to let us perceive one great
and encouraging fact — the presence of law. It is a violation
of the law of brotherliness which has wrought the sad effects
we know so well in the commercial world ; and the same
violation of the same law is producing the same effects in
athletics. Let us take heart in the thought that this lesson
is one which it is not yet too late for us to learn. We need
discipline before we can grasp large and unfamiliar truths,
and now is the time for us to take note that the time of
discipline is at hand — ' the axe is being laid at the root of
the trees.' Is there anything, then, that we can do ?
III. First, we can give a hearty support to the managers of
the Rugby Union, who are doing their utmost to stem the
rising tide of professionalism — not as men who are merely
consulting a passing convenience, but as those who in a
gallant and unpretending way are doing something to keep
alive the true idea of recreation. That is one thing. But
RECREATION 163
as regards the whole question, it is painfully and abundantly
evident that we have here a disquieting symptom of a deep-
seated social evil.
To lop off a dead branch from a precious tree is better
than nothing, but it is not the same thing as curing a disease
at the roots. Covetousness is at the root of this decaying
branch of our English oak ; and to cure a deep-seated evil
your remedies must go deep and begin early. Men of
business can, if they choose, train up their sons to look upon
money as a trust, and not as a possession, because the first
condition of brotherliness is that those who have should
know themselves as stewards. And if you choose, you can
do more than this ; you can inspire them by your own
example with a true view of the meaning of life and of the
recreation of spent energies. God has placed us here not
to become wholly absorbed in a complex commercial
machine of our own fabrication, nor to give all we have to
the building up of a muscular body, but to learn the great
mystery that bodies are the temples of mind and spirit, and
not only are as wonderful in structure, but are also immortal
in their destiny ; and for those reasons, and those only, are
they to be jealously guarded, harmoniously developed, and
lovingly adapted to the spiritual service of oui Incarnate
Master, Jesus Christ.
THE IMPERIAL CHRIST, AND HIS DEMOCRATIC
CREED.
VERY REV. C. W. STUBBS,
DEAN OF ELY, AUTHOR OF 'CHRIST AND DEMOCRACY,' ETC
I. Town Problems.
* And many, hearing Jesus, were
astonished, saying, Is not this the
carpenter? . . . And Pilate said
unto Jesus, Art Thou a king then?'
— St. Mark vi. 3, and St. John
xviii. 37.
A
CARPENTER or a king? Which was He? A
workman or a leader of men ? Let us think !
The Divine Founder of our rehgion, the great
Head of our Church, is known in the sacred
records, and has been designated from time to time in the
long history of Christian society by many names and many
titles.
Is there any true sense in which it is right for you and me,
without irreverence, to speak of Jesus Christ as the greatest
of social emancipators, the most potent of labour leaders ?
I think so.
Every king and leader of men is enshrined for us in his
own age. Indeed, you will always find, I think, that the
best history of any age is to be found in the biography of its
hero or greatest man.
The golden age of classic Greece you will better under-
THE IMPERIAL CHRIST 165
Stand if you think of it as the age of Pericles ; the majesty
of imperial Rome when you think of it as the age of
Augustus ; the era of Italian Renaissance when you connect
it with the thought of Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo
or Raphael ; the epoch of the Protestant Reformation
when you speak of it as the times of Luther and Erasmus,
and Colet and More.
But when we come to speak of the King of the kings of
men, the Flos Reguni Arturus of the heroes of humanity,
of what special age is He the measure ? The Christ has for
His times all times. Not the first century only, nor the
second, nor the twelfth, nor the sixteenth, nor the nine-
teenth, is the age of Christ. ' The present days are His
days, and we are His contemporaries.'
VARYING PICTURES OF THE CHRIST.
But when we try to picture His personality, how do we
think of Him ? Have we — you and I, Churchmen of the
nineteenth century — any different picture of the Christ in
our imaginations than the Christians of the first century, or
the fifth, or the twelfth ?
It would be strange if we had not. For certainly, not
only the strictly theological, but the imaginative conception
of the personality of the Christ has varied greatly from age
to age. You can see that that is so nowhere more vividly
than in the history of Christian art.
As you gaze upon the earliest Christian pictures in the
Roman catacombs, you cannot fail to recognise that the
conception of Christ which was conveyed to the simple
minds of the men of the second and third century by the
gay and winsome figure of the Good Shepherd, with the
happy sheep nestling on His shoulder, with the pastoral
pipes in His hand, blooming in mortal youth, must be
very different to that of the men of a later age, for whom
the gracious and gentle Pastor has given place to the
crucified Sufferer, depicted in countless aspects of misery
1 66 THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
and woe, from the gaunt and ghastly Crucifixes and Pietas
and Entombments of the early Florentines, to the sublime
dignities of Michael Angelo and Tintoret and Coreggio.
Nor, again, can you help feeling that the conceptions of
Christ's personality conveyed to the Italian Churchmen of
the Middle Ages by the numberless pictures of the Madonna
and Child, unfailing in their sweet and gentle lessons of the
divinity of childhood and of mother's love, must be far
different to that conveyed to the Flemish Christians of the
fourteenth century by such a picture as the Van Eycks'
'Worship of the Immaculate Lamb,' with its subhme figure
of the omnipotent Christ, the King in glory, enthroned and
crowned, with hands outstretched in royal priestly benedic-
tion of the world.
Now, looked at from this point of view, what should you
say was the special aspect of the person of Christ most
characteristic of our age ? Fifty years ago I think it would
have been difficult to decide.
THE DIVINE COMRADE.
But to-day I think there can be no doubt that, largely
due to the more directly historical interest awakened by
various foreign studies of Christ's life from a merely
biographical point of view, and largely inspired in our own
country and Church, I do not hesitate to say, by the
spiritual beauty of the figure of Christ as represented by the
Unitarian Christian, Dr. Channing, and still more largely
perhaps by the conception of the office and character of
Christ as the federal Head of humanity, the King and Con-
summator of society, and of the doctrine of the Incarnation
as the consecration of all human life, instilled into the
whole of modern theology by my own revered Cambridge
teacher, Frederick Denison Maurice, we have learned
to worship a more human Christ — kingly and Divine still, it
is true — commanding our reverence and devotion and
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 167
humility, but still full of human friendliness and sympathy
and love — a Divine comrade, not
' Too bright and good for human nature's daily food,'
ever ready to help and guide us through the endless moral
perplexities of everyday commonplace existence, ever ready
also to illuminate for us with some far-reaching principle the
difficult modern problems of history and politics and science,
of poetry and art, of trade and labour.
Am I right in adding those last words ? Is there any
modern reading in these days of industrial war, competitive
industry and of an economic system,
' Where faster and faster our iron master,
The thing we are made for, ever drives.
Bids us grind treasure and fashion pleasure
For other hopes and other lives ' —
is there any modern reading, I say, in such days of the
Christ message, ' Come unto Me, all ye that labour ' ? Is
the Christ really ' the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever '?
Let us go back and feel once more, if we can, the signifi-
cance of that life manifested in Nazareth all those years ago.
THE DEMOCRATIC NOTE OF THE GOSPEL.
There is no fact, my friends, more removed from contro-
versy than this, that Christianity arose out of the common
people, and was intended in their interest. When Christ
came, He came as a poor man in the outward rank of an
artisan. He was a true child of the people. In the very
Song of Praise which burst forth from His mother's lips,
when she knew that of her was the Christ to be born, the
democratic note is first sounded which has echoed on
through the history of the Church.
THE BIRTH-SONG OF DEMOCRACY.
You and I are so familiar with the words of the Magni-
ficat^ as we sing them day by day at evensong in our
Churches, that in all probability we miss the significance of
i68 THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
that note. But when the Church, evening after evening,
all through the parishes of Christendom, is singing this
hymn, she is unconsciously foretelHng — the most ignorant
and prejudiced of her priests are foretelling — that greatest
of all evolutions, which the Mother of Jesus saw to be
involved in the birth and work of Christ. To Mary, at that
moment of inspiration in which her lips poured forth this
birth-song of democracy, was revealed the stupendous
reversal, political and social, which the birth of the Son of
God, as the Son of man, as the Son of a poor carpenter's
wife, was bound sooner or later to produce in all the world.
You will find that same democratic note, the note of
social passion, struck by the Son of that same socialist mother
and carpenter's wife, when in the full blush of manhood He
stood for the first time face to face with his brother men in
the synagogue of Nazareth :
' The spirit of the Lord is upon Me,
Because He anointed Me to preach the Gospel to the poor :
He hath sent Me to proclaim release to the captives,
And recovery of sight to the bhnd,
To set at liberty them that are bruised,
To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.'
No wonder that the common people heard Him gladly^
and listened with delight to the gracious words that pro-
ceeded out of His mouth.
It would have been strange had they not done so, when
we remember how completely such doctrine seemed to
satisfy the popular ideal. Of all histories, the history of the
Israelites is the one, notwithstanding the outward form of
their national constitution, in which the democratic spirit
most constantly predominates. No tribunes of the people
had ever been so bold as the prophets of Israel. They were,
in fact, the champions of popular liberty and popular
justice at a time when those virtues met with little regard
from either priests or kings. The thought that God was
the Protector of the poor, and the Avenger of the oppressed,
was to be found in every page of their writings. When,
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 169
therefore, Christ stood up for the first time to speak to the
people, He could not well find words more clearly expressing
the popular hope and longing, than those which he quoted
from the great statesman-prophet of His country.
True, His after-teaching and life must have seemed as
little short of mockery to those whose passionate enthusiasm
for the redemption of Israel centred in the expectation of a
mihtant and world-conquering Christ. When, for example,
in the Sermon on the Mount, He ascribed the heroic
character to those citizens of His kingdom who were not
proud and rich, valiant and strong, but meek-hearted, self-
controlled, peacemakers, childlike, innocent, simple. His
teaching must have come as a chilling disappointment to
the popular hopes of His day ; yet in reality, if you will think
of it, that Sermon did in reality contain the Popular Charter
of the world's liberties, did inaugurate as vast a revolution
as the world has ever known ; for beneath those Beatitudes
of the New Kingdom Christ had placed a principle which
proved itself not only the most powerful solvent of ancient
civilization, but also the great motive force in the pro-
gressive social order of the present.
THE MOTHER-IDEA OF CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION.
It is the contention, indeed, of those who accept the
Christian philosophy of history as the true one, that the
struggle for liberty in its various forms which has in effect
been the subject of the civil history of modern Europe since
the time of Christ, is directly to be traced to the primary
Christian doctrine of the intrinsic value of the human soul
as such. That, it may be said, is a spiritual idea. True,
but it is a spiritual idea which easily bears translation into a
political one.
And, as a matter of fact, that is exactly what did happen.
We have no time now to enter upon the historical retrospect
that would make that plain.
170 THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
SLAVERY AND PATERNAL DESPOTISM.
You have only to think, however, of the revolutionary
force which Christianity exerted on the civil order of the
ancient world, not only in its effect on the institution of
slavery, upon which the civil order of Greece and Rome was
economically based, but also its mitigation and final aboli-
tion of the despotism of paternal power, which was the
dominant idea in the family life of Grseco-Roman civiliza-
tion, to see how far-reaching has been that principle.
It is quite possible that there may be those in this church
who will think that I am hazarding a bold pretension when
I claim the abolition of slavery as a Christian achievement.
Well, I am quite aware that slavery lasted in Europe down
to the thirteenth century, and that it is the fashion in these
days to contend that slavery perished owing to purely
secular causes — the ' march of intellect,' the discoveries of
science, the utilization of steam power, the natural rise in
the standard of comfort, and so forth.
But, my friends, can you honestly think so ? The march
of intellect indeed ! Why, the race that gave birth to Plato,
Socrates, Aristotle, Sophocles, Phidias, Euclid, Archimedes,
and Ptolemy could not even conceive of a state of society
where slavery should not exist. Civilization appeared to
them to require the servitude of the masses as its necessary
foundation.
It was not cruelty or callousness that prompted Aristotle
to divide ' tools ' into two classes, ' living ' and ' lifeless,'
and to place * slaves ' in the first class. It was not want of
intellect ; // zvas zvant of faith in human ?iature.
CHRIST THE SLAVE OF HUMANITY.
' Who would do the scullion work in the great household
of humanity if there were no slaves ?'
This was the question that perplexed the great philosophers
of antiquity. This was the question which Christ answered
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 171
by making Himself the slave of mankind and classing Him-
self among the scullions. It was not the ' teaching ' so
much as the 'doing' and the 'being.' The spirit that
dictated the words, ' Even as the Son of man came not to
be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His life a
ransom for many,' dictated also, do not forget it, the death
upon the cross. It is that spirit which has destroyed
slavery in every Christian land ; it is that spirit which will
establish one day a true social order upon earth — a kingdom
of heaven on earth, in which ' Christ shall be all and in all.'
' THE MILLS OF GOD GRIND SLOWLY.'
True, the spirit of Christ has never yet been fully obeyed,
or even understood by all His followers ; but upon the day
in which it is obeyed, in which it is understood, life on
earth will be life in heaven. But, my friends, you must
not expect everything in eighteen hundred years. Astro-
nomy, geology, biology, are three voices which all remind
us that the hand of God works slowly. The student of
evolution tells us that it took several hundreds of thousands
of centuries to change a beast into a man ; it may well take
as many centuries to change earth into heaven, the kingdom
of man into the kingdom of God and His Christ.
CHARACTER OF CHRISt's LEADERSHIP.
But meanwhile it is important for you and me that we
should be on the right track. And for myself I know of
no better way of assuring ourselves of that than by taking
care that we are treading in the footsteps of the Divine
workman of Nazareth. Jesus Christ must be our Leader.
But we must not misunderstand the character of His
leadership.
not a CONSTITUTION-MONGER.
Jesus Christ will not furnish us with any ready-made
scheme for a new and perfect human society. He is a
172 THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
social emancipator. Yes, but not a politician, not a con-
stitution-monger, not even in the strict sense a legislator.
You may go to His teaching for principles, for seed-thoughts,
for inspiring motives, but you will find nothing there to
hamper free human growth, for God has supplied men
with faculties to frame social institutions for themselves,
and Christ will leave these faculties free to work. He will
emancipate, but He will not compel. He has left no
authoritative precedents in regard to things which men can
manage for themselves. For He knew that it is not possible
to walk by the letter and by faith at the same time. The
true Christian society was to be ruled not by a fixed code
of particular rules, but by an indwelling spirit. The Christ-
ian disciples of all ages were to regard their Master's
example as a sacred rule, but they were to go to the record
of His words and deeds, not as to a civil statute-book
where they might expect to find the ethical difficulties of
all time scheduled and codified, but they were to go to it
as to a well-spring of spiritual influence, where they might
imbue themselves ' with the same mind that was in Him,'
and let their own behaviour afterwards flow freely from it.
' SOMETHING MORE ' THAN ACTS OF PARLIAMENT.
My friends, when sanitation, and education, and science,
and political reform, and socialistic legislation, and the
organization of labour, have all done their best and failed,
as they all undoubtedly will fail, unless something inore is
also added, then I trust that we shall all of us, whether rich
or poor, capitalist or labourer, begin to find out what that
somethmg more is. Then we shall begin to perceive that,
after all, it is not new Acts of Parliament that are needed.
Employers' Liability Bills, Boards of Arbitration and Con-
ciliation, Labour Bureaux, an eight-hours working day, but
a new spirit, a spirit of mutual concession in both in-
dividuals and classes, a spirit of frank justice on the part of
both capitalist and workman, recognising that the loss of
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 173
one cannot be the gain of another in the unity of the one
life, a spirit of love, and self-control, and self-sacrifice as
apparent in the life of the Family, of the Class, of the Nation,
of the Church, as in the life of Jesus of Nazareth.
CHRISTIAN-SOCIALISM OR SOCIAL-CHRISTIANISM.
That spirit, and that alone, as I believe, will enable us to
apply our knowledge and our wills to settle Land questions,
Church questions. Labour questions, to address ourselves
steadily to the work of Christianizing Socialism, or Socializing
Christianism (I care not how you phrase it), of honouring
and encouraging, of consecrating, of nationalizing the labour
classes, while never unwisely pampering them ; of dis-
honouring and discouraging and denationalizing the idle
classes, and never ignorantly establishing and endowing
them, teaching them that as the Divine Workman of
Nazareth was subject to law, so must they be subject to
law ; that as He bore suffering for the good of His brother
men, so must they be prepared to suffer and to serve for
their comrades and fellows.
THE workman's COMRADE-KING.
Ah, friends, to this we come at last, that all depends on
knowing Christ more perfectly ! And that we shall never
do until we have all learnt to cast out that spirit of Anti-
christ which, while admitting Christ's Divinity, denies His
Humanity, and have learnt to throw ourselves in perfect
trust and faith on Him, whose whole life and character is
the witness for the ultimate supremacy of love over all
human society. We must learn — as I said at the outset —
to realize the human Christ, the Carpenter of Nazareth, the
great Companion, ever ready to bestow His friendship where
it is most needed, ever the Emancipator of the captive and
the oppressed, the Champion of the wronged, of the fallen,
of the guilty, of the victims of Pharisaism and hypocrisy
and greed and passion ; the Friendly Christ, who had a
174 1'^-E^ IMPERIAL CHRIST
heart for the poor, and wanted to turn the world upside
down, but did not expect to do it in a day or a year, but was
satisfied to go, apparently, a long way round to do it, but in-
tended to do it at last and conquer.
This then, my friends, or something like it, is the imagi-
native conception of the Personality of the Christ that we
want ; at least, this is the Christ, as it seems to me, which
the English workman wants, and at any rate of this I am
certain, that he at least will never consent to accept Jesus
Christ as the true Son of God until he has first learnt to
realize Him as a true Son of Man.
And further than this, I am sure that we shall never
persuade the labour classes of this country, ahenated as,
alas ! in too large a degree they are from recognised Church
influences, to accept this conception of Christ, as Saviour,
Leader and King, or, indeed, any conception of Christ worthy
of the name of Saviour at all, whether personal or social,
until they see that we, the professed followers of Christ,
Churchmen as we call ourselves, whether Conformist or Non-
conformist, are prepared to put our Church creed into
touch with our daily secular life, the life of Trade, Com-
merce, Politics.
They will say to us — and rightly say to us — * You may
stand up in your churches week by week, day by day, and
publicly and solemnly confess your Church's Creed, handed
down to you from a long antiquity ; but what we want to
know is this. Are you willing to read into that Creed these
clauses which we seem to think you ought to have learnt
from the Spirit of the Christ of To-Day ?'
THE DEMOCRATIC CREED OF THE CHURCH.
1. We believe that in all the disputes and conflicts, in-
dustrial, social, political, which rend the body politic of
this Christian State to-day, the prime necessity is frank
Justice between class and class.
2. We believe that the first principle of Christian Justice
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 175
is this, that the loss of one cannot on the whole be the gain
of another in the unity of the one life.
3. We beheve that the first principle of Christian Liberty
is this — freedom, not to do what one likes, but freedom to
do what one ought, and that therefore respect for individual
rights should never blind us to the higher reverence which
we owe to social duty.
4. We believe that the first principle of Christian Equality
is not equality of distribution, but equality of consideration,
which may be expressed in the maxim that every man is to
count for one, and no man for more than one.
5. We believe that the first principle of Christian Frater-
nity is that ' we are all one man in Christ,' and that no man
can say sincerely, ' Our brothers who are on earth,' who has
not previously learnt to say, ' Our Father which art in
heaven.'
6. We believe that the competition of trade has been as-
similated to the competition of war, and stands condemned
by the assimilation.
7. We believe that in Christ's kingdom the law of life is
service, not competition, and that no money, therefore, is
legitimately earned which is not an exchange value for
actual services rendered — services which minister to life and
help on the common good — and that consequently no
wealth is honest which is accumulated by taking advantage
of the weakness or the ignorance of our neighbours, and
rendering them no equivalent in reciprocal service.
8. We beheve that society exists not for the sake of
private property, but private property for the sake of society.
9. We believe that the right use of property must be in-
sisted upon as a religious duty ; that as capital arises from
common labour, so in justice it should be made to minister
to common wants.
I o. We believe that wealth does not release the rich man
from his obligation to work, but only enables him to do
unpaid work for society ; the only difference, indeed, accord-
176 THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
ing to Christian ethics, between the rich man and the poor
man seeming to be this — that the poor man receives his
wages at the end of the week, and does not get them unless
his work is first done ; whereas the wealthy man receives
his wages first, and is bound as a matter of honour to earn
them afterwards.
1 1. We believe that it is not the equalization of capital
that is needed, but its moralization.
12. We believe that as all life is of the kingdom of God,
and the Church of Christ is concerned in the ways of His
disciples, however secular they may seem to be, it is the
duty of the Christian citizen to build up, as far as his in-
fluence extends, the life of the great civic brotherhood to
which he belongs, and of every sphere of action which it
contains in justice, righteousness, and the fear of God.
13. We believe, therefore, that it is the duty of the
Christian city, in the interests of its citizens, to provide,
first, for the three essentials of physical Hfe— pure air, pure
water, pure food ; and, secondly, for the three essentials of
spiritual life — admiration, hope and love ; and with these
objects in view, we believe that such a city will take legal
measures to prevent the pollution of air, water, food ; will
preserve open spaces and town gardens ; will provide play-
ing-fields and gymnasiums and baths in connection with all
elementary public schools ; will pass, not only a Sunday
Closing Act for public-houses, but a Sunday Opening Act
for public libraries, museums, art galleries, and other draw-
ing-rooms of the people.
14. W^e believe that in such a city the citizens will have
full control over the regulation and license of all trade, and
that the drink traffic as at present organized, standing con-
demned by Christian principle, will, if not suppressed alto-
gether, be very largely curtailed, and in the meantime,
compelled to compensate the ratepayers of the city for the
increase of poor rate and police rate directly traceable to
its influence.
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 177
15. We believe that in any truly Christian city there
would undoubtedly be a by-law of the Council suppressing
the scandalous indecencies of the Divorce Court, and the
brutalizing horrors of the Police Courts in the public
prints, and prohibiting the publication in any newspaper of
all betting lists, the odds on sporting events, and any infor-
mation likely to stimulate gambling, whether on the Turf or
the Stock Exchange.
16. We believe that the conception of family life is not
only human, but Divine, and that, therefore, it is the duty
of the Church of Christ to unite men in actively opposing
the corruption of national and social life, which springs
from neglect of the principle that personal purity is of
universal obligation upon man and woman alike ; and, when
necessary, to co-operate with the civil and municipal autho-
rities in police efforts for the repression of prostitution and
the degradation of women and children.
17. We believe, finally, that Christ's whole earthly life is
a direct command to His Church to spend a large part of
her time and energy in fighting against all circumstances
and conditions of living which foster disease and hinder
health ; in delivering people from evil environment and
fatal heredity ; that, in fact, the whole secular history of the
Church should be an endeavour to realize in act the daily
petition of her dominical prayer, ' Father ! Thy kingdom
come. Thy will be done, on earth f
178 THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
II. Village Problems.
* And Jesus gave them authority
. . . and sent them forth to preach
the Gospel of the kingdom of God
. . . and they departed^ and tvent
throughout the villages preaching
and healing everywhere.' —'^1. LUKE
ix. 2-6.
ISFOKE to you yesterday of one aspect of the doc-
trine of the Supremacy of Christ in human Hfe. 1
tried to suggest to your imaginations such a picture
of Christ's Personahty as should not seem to be out
of harmony with a conception of Him as the greatest of
Social Emancipators, the most potent of Labour Leaders.
It was not, of course, that I do not recognise that Christ
was more than this ; that His Supremacy meant more than
the supremacy of principle in the realm of Social Politics
or Labour Ethics. It must indeed be of the essence of
any true faith in Jesus, of any vital belief in the doctrine of
the Pre-incarnate Word and the Incarnate Christ, that He
should be recognised as Supreme over all realms of thought or
action — history, philosophy, ethics, art, poetry, trade politics,
science — and that it is in consequence of that claim that
the moral character, no less than the intellectual attitude of
every one of His baptized disciples, should be affected and
influenced by His Spirit.
For what does that doctrine of Christ's Supremacy, of
Christ's Kinghood, whether we regard the question from the
point of view on the one hand of Evolution, or on the other
of the Incarnation, imply?
It means, in the first place — does it not ? — that God has
a plan for the world ; it means that order and progress in
human civilization is real ; it means that the cry of the
cynic and the social agnostic —
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 179
' Fill the can, and fill the cup,
All the windy ways of men
Are but dust that rises up.
And is lightly laid again :
Drink to lofty hopes that cool
Visions of a Perfect State :
Drink we last the Public Pool,
Frantic love and frantic hate — '
is not only not true, but is a gross blasphemy against God's
purpose for humanity ; it means that God has for the
world a great educational plan, by which both the perfection
of the individual and the perfection of the race is to be
accomplished ; it means that in the development of that
plan each age of the world has its own special work to do ;
it means that progress is not only a vital fact of human
existence, but that it is its vital law ; it means that there is
a Christian ideal for society, that there ts a social order
which is the best, and that towards this order the world is
gradually moving ; it means that Christ, as the Eternal Word
of God, has always been, and is still, the acting organ of
creation and Providence, ever operating in the region be-
hind phenomena, the originating cause of all energy, all
life, all thought ; it means that Christ, ' in becoming in-
carnate, did not desert the rest of His creation,' but is the
quickening impulse of all that is best in what we call
modern civilization, the nourisher of new graces in the ever-
widening circles of the Family, the Society, the State, the
inspirer of art and literature and morals and government,
by lifting them all into a higher atmosphere of hopefulness,
of faith in the ideal, than was ever possible until He came,
* the Head over all things to the Church, the Fulness of
Him which filleth all in all.'
That is the aspect of Christian faith, at any rate, which in
the opinion of the Social Union, which has projected this
course of special Lenten sermons, there seems a special
need to press upon the consciences of the Christian com-
munity at the present day. It is this aspect of the faith
which inspires the three great rules of our Union, and which
l8o THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
prompts the demand we make upon each one of our
members to be ready :
1. To claim for the Christian law the ultimate authority
to rule social practice.
2. To study in common how to apply the moral truths
and principles of Christianity to the social and economical
difficulties of the present time.
3. To present Christ in practical life as the living Master
and King, the enemy of wrong and selfishness, the power of
righteousness and love.
No one, I think, can doubt that much progress has been
made during the last ten or twenty years in ' preaching this
Gospel of the kingdom,' in bringing home to the hearts of the
people that the message of Jesus Christ, the mission of His
Church to the present age, is a social message, a social
mission.
But much yet remains to be done ; and nowhere more, I
think, is this social mission of Christ's Church necessary
than in the country parishes of England. There is no class
of men in the country — and I speak what I know, for I have
been a country parson myself, and have lived among them
for nearly twenty years — more self-sacrificing, more earnest-
minded, more generous-hearted, taken as a whole, than the
rural clergy of the Church of England ; and yet one may be
pardoned, I think, if sometimes one ventures to doubt
whether they all quite sufficiently appreciate the width and
largeness of the mission of preaching and healing which is
committed to them as priests of the Church of Christ. I
wish sometimes they would read with wider eyes the words
of their priestly commission, ' Take thou authority to preach
the Word of God, and to administer the Holy Sacraments
in the congregation ' — in the light of the original commis-
sion of Christ to the Twelve — ' He gave them authority
. . . and sent them forth to preach the Gospel of the king-
dom . . . and they departed and went throughout the
villages preaching and healing everywhere.'
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED i8i
For we are being asked, and rightly asked, as the result
of the great democratic movement of our day, What sign is
there in the Village Life of the England of to-day that the
priests of Christ's Church are awake to all the meaning of
the Gospel of the kingdom? What have they done?
What are they doing to make the English villager feel that
Christ is the true King of the village — that the Christ prin-
ciple must be supreme in the realm of Village Ethics, of
Village Politics, of Village Economics ? Personal independ-
ence, mutual responsibility, the rights of liberty, the duties
of association — these are all root principles of the Gospel of
the kingdom ; these are also the essential qualities of the
English character in the earliest time of which history has
anything to tell us.
Are these the principles of English village government to-
day ? Are these the essential qualities of the English
villager as we know him to-day ? If they are not, who is
most to blame for that? If they are, why then all this
timidity, this want of faith in the sturdiness of national
character, in the average common-sense, even, of the com-
munity, which seems to me to have characterized too many
Churchmen in the discussion, both in and out of Parliament,
of the provisions of the Local Government Bill ?
This is not the place, of course, to enter into any partisan
political discussion of that measure. But let me ask you
for a moment to consider one attitude of the critics of that
measure which hardly suggests any point of party politics.
It is continually said, it has been said over and over
again to me in country parsonages during this last year or
so : 'Do not imagine that I am opposed to village councils
in themselves. I quite recognise that village government
does need revision ; but it is so important that that govern-
ment should be in the hands of the best men, and what I
fear is that the councils will be dominated, not by the best
men, but by the -most talkative — the local preachers, the
unionist agitators, the noisy, vulgar, pot-house politicians,
i82 THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
and that, in fact, the best men will retire from public life in
disgust, and a consequent deterioration of national character
in the country districts set in.'
That point of view was put in a more statesmanlike way
by one of our greatest authorities on Local Government, an
M.P. for a Northern county, in the Times a few weeks ago.
He pointed out that when once the Bill had become law,
and had passed out of the region of acute Parliamentary dis-
cussion, then and thereafter nothing in the whole domain
of local government would at all approach in importance, as
regards the daily life of the population, to the question,
How are these local councils exercising the power which
Parliament has given them ? Are they acting not only with
zeal and honesty, but with wisdom and economy in execu-
tion ? In short, do they sufficiently command and obtain
the services of those men in each parish and district who
are by their ability, character, and experience most com-
petent to judge for what objects their own and their
neighbour's money should be spent, and when that is
settled to spend it with the utmost economy and advantage?
These, no doubt, are sensible and wise questions, but
when this authority goes on to contend that, with a view
of securing that the best men of the land-owning and
the leisured class should have a direct inducement to
interest themselves in local administration, they should
have a limited but assured representation on the local
councils, I cannot but think his suggestion unworthy and
unstatesmanlike.
For, surely, if such men are ' the best men,' the true
aristocracy of rural hfe, they will do their duty without such
inducement ; nay, further, I do not hesitate to say that such
men, if they be the best men, whether squires or parsons, will be
little short of abject fools if they do not lead the village life
of the future, as they have done in the past.
But in the future they must be the best men, and they
must set the lead in all that makes for goodness and whole-
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 183
someness and righteousness in village life ; they must realize
the vast importance of the revivification of village life at
which this Local Government Bill at least aims.
And to do that they will have to face, as it seems to me,
these three questions, and somehow find an answer to
them :
I. Can we do anything, by the help of the provisions of
this Act, to increase the general pleasantness and attractive-
ness of village life in England ?
II. Can we do anything to improve the economic con-
dition of the rural labourer, and thereby to raise permanently
the standard of comfort and joy of his class ?
III. Can we do anything to quicken citizenship, the sense
of public responsibility and civic duty on the part of the
English villager ?
I. As to the attractiveness of village life. Village life
is dull. In winter time, especially, the hearth of the
village ale-shop is too often the only social centre of warmth
and light and colour — and of much also, I fear, which is only
not dull because it is wicked. What does the average
villager know of the pleasures of books, of pictures, of
music, of art, of conversation, of all, in fact, that makes the
social hfe of the classes above him glad and bright ? What
does he know, even, of rational, intelligent pleasure in the
sights and sounds of the country hfe about him, of the
spiritual joy of earth?
' The moving glory of the heavens, their pomp and pageantry,
Flame in his shadowed face ; but no soul comes up to see.
He sees no angels lean to him, he feels no spirit hand,
Melodious beauty sings to him — he cannot understand.'
And yet, surely, he ought to know something of the
pleasure which God intended that beautiful things
should give him. He ought not to be satisfied — at any
rate, we ought not to be satisfied for him — with only
labour and sleep and feeding. When the work is done, and
the sleep is over, and the eating is finished, shall not the
1 84 THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
man himself presently wake up, and find his spirit afterward
an hungered, and know that it lives not by bread alone ?
If those, who claim to be ' the best men ' in every village
community will only ask such questions as these. What
shall we do to make village life a little less colourless and
sad ? How shall we break its monotony and commonplace
with some stimulant which shall not be vicious, with some
pleasure which shall not be merely gross and sensual ? — I
think they ought to welcome the advent of this Bill, and
cheerfully undertake to see those of its provisions which deal
with the Public Libraries Act, the Baths and Washhouses
Act, the acquiring of public recreation grounds and walks
and the building of parish halls, put as rapidly as may
be into effect.
II. With regard to the economic conditions of village
life.
I will not enlarge upon this point. But I think those
provisions of the Bill which speak of the acquisition of land
for allotment purposes, and which deal with the question of
setting the Small Holdings Act of 1892 to work, ought at
least to suggest to our village ' best men ' such questions as
these :
1. Does the English State consider that production of
food for the people is the primary charge on the land, and
with that object in view does she desire to retain a rural
population of workers on the soil ?
2. Does the English Church consider that national
character is of far greater importance than national wealth,
and from that point of view is she prepared to welcome the
revival of an English yeoman class as one of the surest
means of building up a sturdy, wholesome, pious national
character ?
And if they answer those two questions in the affirmative,
this question must immediately follow :
3. What is the legitimate economic ideal of the English
peasant of the future to be ?
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 185
Until these questions are settled it is quite useless to go
further.
What, for example, is the use of all these various and
conflicting schemes of the technical training committees of
the County Councils up and down the country, if we have
not first made up our minds as to the special object of all
our training ? The peasant proprietor or small farmer of the
future — if we decide that the creation of such a class is to
be our national aim — will need a very different training to
that of the wage-earning farm hand of the present : for
small farming, remember, is practically a lost art in the
greater part of England.
III. Lastly, how can we quicken the citizenship of the
English village ? How shall we give the spirit of local
patriotism, the sense of civic duty, to our village com-
munities ?
I confess, as a clergyman of the Church of England, as
a country parson for very nearly twenty years, I am some-
what ashamed to put this question. For I cannot forget
that there was a time in the history of the Church of Eng-
land when she played no unimportant part in the develop-
ment of popular liberty. It was in the Parish Vestry of old
times that the two great principles of English free institu-
tions— the principle of mutual responsibility and the
principle of personal representation — were most surely
nourished in the heart of the English citizen. The Parish
was, in fact, the truest school of Politics, for there men learnt,
in the active business of responsible life, those primary
lessons in public justice and self-government, in public dis-
cussion and social duty, which go to form the character of
a capable citizen.
I would to God that even at this last hour the authori-
tative leaders in our Church would throw aside their timid
counsels, their grudging policies, their half-hearted aspira-
tions, and would welcome with generous-hearted trustful-
ness this demand of the rural population of England to
i86 THE IMPERIAL CHRIST
take part in the nation's work, and would exhibit some at
least of the democratic faith of earlier days, when at the
wreck of Roman civilization the Christian Church learnt to
build up, by means of the Teutonic spirit of individual
freedom and social fidelity, a new and higher order of civili-
zation. I would to God that Churchmen of to-day could be
made to understand, that our bishops especially could be
made to understand, that faith in democracy does mean,
for the true Christian, faith in human progress, a conviction
little, if at all, short of religion itself, that the impulse which
is hurrying the world on to new destinies is but God's ap-
pointed means of leading His children one step nearer to
the solution of that great educational problem which He
has set them of making His kingdom on earth, as far as
possible, a likeness of that which is in heaven.
I would to God that every country parson at least might
learn to welcome this Bill heartily, for sure I am that any
Churchman who is earnest and honest in his desire to raise
the moral condition of his fellow-countrymen, who desires
to forward any true measures of civic well-being, for the
administration of village justice and prevention of wrong-
doing, for the safety and security of person and property,
for the well-ordering of poor relief, of education in its
widest sense, of public health and public wealth and public
wisdom ; who would promote the growth of a hearty
sympathy between class and class, a right appreciation of
the mutual obligations and relations of each, and a cheer-
ful and happy fulfilment of what those obligations and
relations bring to each, will recognise that one of the
surest methods lies in the revival of the good old English
principle of self-government in the village ' moot ' or council,
and its foundation on a sound representative, democratic,
and therefore Christian, basis.
And now I must conclude. It has been my object to
impress upon you as Churchmen the lesson that, if the
Church of Christ in this country is to fulfil her Master's
AND HIS DEMOCRATIC CREED 187
mission, she must set herself to the task, both in the
towns and in the villages, of solving the great problem
of the reconciliation of the classes, of the developing and
the harmonizing of all the elements which go to make a
wholesome national character.
Will this generation, do you think, see the problem
solved?
If we had only faith, it might be done to-morrow. We
have the living Christ with us, and all that we need is not
to resist His Incarnation in and through us.
What an achievement it would be— the crown of the
century — one more upward step gained in the path of
social evolution ' towards the perfect man, the measure of
the stature of the fulness of Christ !'
DRIVING THE GOLDEN SPIKE.
I have read that when the great Pacific Railroad was
completed across America, the event was made memorable
by driving a spike of gold where the last rail joined the
track which had approached from either side of the con-
tinent. The Evolution of Humanity has been marked at
well-defined points of progress by similar golden spikes.
What a trophy for Christ our King, if the close of the nine-
teenth century of His era coull be marked by the solution
of this problem of Labour and Capital ! Let us pray for it,
let us work for it.
'Strike the golden spike, master workman, on the way,
Humanity is travelling with the travelling of the day.
Strike the spike of gold ! as struck primeval man
When a highway Godward to travel he began :
When with celt of unhewn stone he scored the birth of mind,
And the first milestone was set that left the brute behind.
Strike I strike ! master workman, on the road to kinglier men ;
Scarce the spike is driven ere thou must strike again :
For the road thou buildest is a road without an end,
Leading where with human effort hope and reason blend.
Through the heart of elder evil, the love of brutish strife,
Drive the spike of human progress and a loftier, truer life.
Gird the world. The nations blend. Peace and love proclaim ;
To evolve a nobler man is the world's predestined aim.'
COMMON-SENSE IN RELIGION.
BY THE
VEN. ARCHDEACON WILSON.
THE subject upon which I have to address you is
'Common-sense in Religion,' its need, its dangers,
its limitations. My main difficulty will be to dis-
pose of certain common-places quickly enough
to leave time to get to the heart of the matter.
Religion in one person calls up ceremony, or it may sug-
gest asceticisms, needing some restraining element, which
we call common-sense, to check exaggerations. There is,
however, a wisdom not of this world, which has a deeper
insight into the secret springs of religion, and not only
common-sense. It was common-sense which sat on the
bench when Festus cried with a loud voice, ' Paul, thou art
beside thyself.' Common-sense, if it is candid, will admit
that the underlying forces of the world have always had to
be joined with what deemed itself common-sense. Common-
sense will distrust itself in judging of ideals, for fear that it
may be insensibility to the highest in man.
Religion in another will suggest another train of thought.
There is a large educational, parochial work to be done.
Much of such work is done by the clergy, because more
qualified laymen offer no help. The world is divided into
those who do something, and those who look on and say it
might be done better. I would respectfully suggest to that
sort of common-sense that so to look on is very mean. We
COMMON SENSE IN RELIGION 189
cannot have too much common-sense. The children of light
may well be as wise as the children of this world.
Again, the phrase suggests the higher aspect of our work.
Christendom is agreed that we are bound to bring all the
world to the knowledge and love and imitation of Christ ;
and yet often the differences and rivalries of rehgious bodies
are an insult to common-sense. Why these quarrels — this
distrust ? Is there no function for common-sense in rela-
tion to religious bodies ? There is room for common-sense
to understand better our relations with our fellow-Christians.
We need to get beyond sects and parties, and be rivals only
in good works.
This use of the phrase suggests another : these differences
are all caused by varying opinions. Is there no room in
this department of religion, known as dogmatic theology,
for common-sense ? What has common-sense to say to the
various theological systems that have arisen in the Church
or have departed from it ? Theologies and creeds have been
so elaborate, and so fine have been the inferences, and com-
pacted into systems with such wonderful precision — schemes
of salvation, theories of sacraments, ecclesiasticism, and the
like, that common-sense stands aghast, and asks, Is there no
place for me here ?
What shall we say ? There is need enough, but we must
be clear what it is there is need of. The problems of human
existence can never cease to attract men's minds. Say what
we will of theology, it exercises an irresistible attraction.
There the soul seeks her home; there man rises above
materialism ; and it is inevitable that men, absorbed in
such a study, should state their own inferences and system,
and try to impose them upon others.
What is the function of common-sense ? It is to recognise
the want of a corrective to the exaggerated notion of com-
pleteness that belongs to every system, and declare that we
know in part.
Common-sense has taught us that theology can never
i^ COMMON SENSE IN RELIGION
with safety get far from the original intuitions. No inference
that does not rest upon the Word of God, and find its echo
in the hearts of men, can be trusted as universal truth. But
danger Ues here also: if a man without spiritual mindedness,
without the habit of prayer and meditation, without humility
and transparency of mind that comes only with an awakened
conscience, and relying upon his business capacity, dares to
pronounce upon the aspirations of the soul for God, he is
sure to be wrong.
There is an intuitive power in all pure minds in relation
to God in those regions of thought which are called
spiritual.
Common-sense is right in distrusting a cold and unfeel-
ing theology. The other day a demagogue, who ou.ht to
know better, talked to working men of the rot of the Church
of England Prayer-book. Was that common-sense ? These
men would revise the Psalms, Isaiah, and even the words of
Jesus Christ Himself. This is common dulness, and want
of any common-sense.
Common-sense in religion suggests to some ot us, if we
are men, an inchoate self-conscious form of spiritual force
that fills the universe. There seems to be a common in-
stinct pervading all men, which is no other than the Spirit
of God Himself Below our ignorance, and selfishness,
and sins of every kind, buried deep below, lies the Spirit of
our Father. It is hke the internal heat of the earth, flaming
out in the volcano here and there in fire and warm springs,
and never wanting where you go deep enough.
This sanctified. Divine common-sense, this Spirit of God
in man, is not scattered among and separable like grains of
gold in sand, it is diffused everywhere in human nature.
He who thinks of man in this light can never for a moment
think he can live to himself.
The Divine education of the world will be his aim. He
will be very humble, and he will think that he is a mere unit
in the universe. The experience and the mysteries of re-
COMMON SENSE IN RELIGION 191
demption, the incarnation, eternal life, duty to God, will
be to him terms of mystery with an unknown element in
them. He will show a reverence to God, remembering that
He is in heaven and we on earth. So his words will be
few. Such common-sense as this — so deep, so strong —
will develop into the wisdom that turns to scorn all extremes,
and will dare to tell the truth, though hated by priests and
demagogues, as only priests and demagogues can hate the
light and truth. It will seek the praise of God, and love
Him and his fellow-man.
Lastly, it is this universal sensibility in man to the highest
ideals that makes us feel that Christ is in very truth the Son
of God. We claim Him as the perfect embodiment of the
Divine Spirit in which we share. We bow before Him as
the Son of God, and make Him a leader of men into the
presence of His Father. And therefore this common-sense
in religion, this universal sensibility in man to the highest
ideals, so far as we share in it the aim of religion, is to be
Christlike, to help men to be good and do good.
In purity and kindness, duty and courtesy, hes the
field of religion. Common-sense will apply religion, there-
fore, to common life, to trade, to all social actions. It re-
pudiates that religion lies between man and God as his
maker, and sees it is only half a truth ; but that it lies be-
tween man and man also as his brother. Common-sense
that has no such outcome will not be the religion of Jesus
Christ. May God grant that we may have more of this
kind of sanctified common-sense ! Amen.
SOCIAL HOPE.
BY THE
REV. PREBENDARY EYTON,
RECTOR OF HOLY TRINITY, UPPER CHELSEA.
* Many there be that say^ Who will
show us any good ? — Psalm iv. 6.
IT is always a comfort, when we are depressed and down-
hearted at the outlook around us, to find that there
have been men in other days who have had to pass
through our own experience. There was in David's
day a good deal of pessimism flying about like some foul
disease — a good deal of wholesale and thoughtless depre-
ciation both of things generally and of man and his con-
dition ; there were men then who deliberately declared life
to be a woe and a curse, not worth living, who criticised
everything, not with a view to bettering it, but with a view
to cheapening it and making it out to be worthless.
There are such men in every age, who live to damp and
depress our spirits : a walk with them is worse than the fog j
their look, even, is depressing. There are many varieties of
such men. There is one variety which is peculiarly irritat-
ing, viz. : the conceited pessimist, the man who has an
inordinately good opinion of himself, and who has somehow
awakened to the fact that others (owing to their singular
blindness and obtuseness) do not share it ; he is a pessimist,
because his hand is against every man. His uneasy con-
viction that he is not valued as he ought to be makes it
SOCIAL HOPE 193
certain to him that the times are out of joint. Then there
is the pessimism of the disillusionized pleasure-seeker and
of the whimpering sentimentalist ; there is the pessimism of
the dogmatist, who finds his own formulas are not universally
accepted — the man who tells you that though there is much
activity in religion, yet that men are weak in doctrine. Then
there is the bitter cynicism of the newspaper satirist or of
the magazine philosopher, and what is most piteous and
pathetic of all, the silent bewilderment of those who cannot
make it all out, who sit bewildered before the changed and
changing order of the world with no hope for themselves or
for others.
Many there be that survey the religious outlook, the social
order, or the individual specimens of life around them, and
cry, with no sign of expectation in their voices, ' Who will
show us any good ?'
And the strength of this utterance lies in the fact that it
does not represent the most shallow view ; it professes to
look beneath the surface and to see through things, but it
does not see far enough. The most superficial view of all
is that of the cheerful optimist, who will not allow that there
is anything amiss. Things have gone well with himself, and
he is not disposed to allow that they can go wrong with
anyone else.
The ofiicial ecclesiastical view about the Church of
England generally adopts this attitude. No one would ever
gather, from the rose-coloured descriptions of parishes and
organizations which are often given, what are the gaps and
leaks, what are the failures to touch and interest the real
life of a parish.
The Church of England and her services have a great
attraction for a certain class, and we are very thankful for
the often excellent work she does among them ; but there
are whole regions of life in London which she only touches
through the occasional accident of some gifted or sympathetic
personality, not because those regions are incapable of being
13
194
SOCIAL HOPE
touched, but because she trusts too much to a machinery
that has not been adapted to their wants and needs.
' Faith in machinery is our besetting sin,' says Matthew
Arnold, ' often machinery absurdly disproportioned to the
end, but always machinery as if it had a value in and for
itself.' But the optimist who speaks in Convocation, or at
a meeting of a Diocesan Conference, about the grand work
which is being done, or who spouts his windy declamation
at some packed meeting, has never looked at facts as they
are ; has only looked at the crowd in some popular church
on a Sunday evening, and omitted to walk down some
popular thoroughfare during church, and see there the crowd
which neither the Church nor any other religious body
touches.
No man then, either about religious or social life, can
really look at things as they are and be contented with the
sort of cheerful optimism which characterizes an Arch-
deacon's charge or a diocesan report. He goes deeper ;
he begins to look at things as they are, and then comes the
day of danger ; he is disillusionized, and he runs to the other
extreme ; because there are dull spots, there is no sun ;
because there are sick people, there is no health ; because
there are failures, there is no success. At this stage the
man crawls like a rabbit into his hole, and seated there, he
says, ' I have got through the surface and its simple pre-
sumptions ; I have seen through things ; Aere there is no
sunlight, no beauty, all is dark and dreary and miserable ;
religion is played out.' He is below the surface ; he has
passed out of the stage of dreams and charms ; he has seen
many things, but has he got far enough yet ? There is a
further stage if a man gets deep enough, where he will learn
to hope again — the stage where he sees not what things
look like, but where he sees what life is for — that the object
of life is not success nor failure, but to live for God and to
live for man. Then, whether the sun shines or not ; whether
things are dark and dreary in religion, or whether he feels
SOCIAL HOPE
195
that its real power is telling ; whether society is advancing
or deteriorating, he is still able to hope, because he is trying
to live for God and for man.
And then, further, the same voice, which taught him
that, speaks to him about others also. He sees that un-
toward and crooked things mean education in character;
that the experiences of life do not end in themselves, but
that they have power to make men into something else ;
and so he passes into the centre — the middle of things.
And then the lost things come back again ; the failures that
seemed to destroy everything come back as instruments of
higher work — as the adjustment which is a necessity if he
is ever to fill his God-appointed place. And thus hope
begins to dawn.
' Experience,' says St. Paul, 'worketh hope.' How strange
the saying sounds ! And yet it does. The man who has
gone through this experience has gained a deeper knowledge
of God. He understands the drift of Christ's life better ;
he sees that, however hopeless things look, there is still
Christ ; there is still the Christ-appeal waiting, and scheming,
and contriving to get itself heard by every man. He sees
a living force within things — not a dead Christ, who has left
a will which a cold and dogmatic priesthood, an autocratic
ministry, are to interpret in set forms, and chilling sentences,
and dignified warnings, but a living Christ, Whose heart is
palpitating behind every unselfish action, and Who is living
in every brave and noble endurance, and bearing Himself
up under every failure, and spreading His Spirit wherever
He can find a heart that will convey Him on and show
Him to others.
He has made, then, the great discovery, not that every-
thing is going on splendidly because religious machinery is
so perfect, but the discovery that there is Christ in every
unselfish movement of the day ; that He is leading man to
find Himself within man ; that He is teaching men the
deepest truths, that the Communion of Saints means that
13 — 2
196 SOCIAL HOPE
every life lives by every other life ; that the Communion of
His Sacred Body and Blood is not a reward for virtue or
even only a means of individual growth, but a social symbol
of man's communion with man, and that the unworthy com-
municant is he who does not find the Christ in others, Who
is the Life of his life.
'The secret of vision,' says a great writer, 'is undying
hope.' What we can hope for really, even two or three of
us, of that we shall soon see the germs ; what we do not
hope for may be under our very feet, and we are blind, we
cannot see it. Let us see what we can hope for, and then
we shall get to what can we see — we who are yearning and
longing to see it. We hope for a purer Church, a more
Christ-like Church, than the world has ever seen — a Church
1 whose creeds have become inspirations. We hope for the
I day when men will make ' God their religion, instead of
I making religion their God.' We hope for an ideal reunion,
when men who are now with us in their wish to be with us,
and in their wish to preserve the Christ-spirit of service,
will be so one with us that we and they shall no longer talk
of reunion, or get up misleading discussions to promote it,
but shall find ourselves so enwrapped and so possessed by
the Christ-spirit that we shall find division intolerable.
Then, at last, we shall find a way of oneness with every
heart that has translated into life the Christ command, ' As
ye would that men should do unto you, even so do unto
them ;' we shall recognise that as the really encircling bond ;
we do so now in our deepest moments, but the conviction
that it is so will grow and grow till God shows us the way
to openly acknowledge it. We hope for the day when man
will think of the service of man as the deepest religious
privilege, when that ideal feet-washing shall somehow become
practically expressed in all our lives ; when men shall seek
not for patronage, but for opportunities of service ; when
the Church shall be no more seen haggling for its rights,
but anxious to let everyone see how every detail in the
SOCIAL HOPE 197
life of the community is dear to it, how it believes in trust
and generous dealing, how it has caught the Christ-spirit of
* losing its life to save it.' We hope, too, to see the ideal
of Christ's teaching in the State as in the Church. We
hope to see men believing that He meant what He said ;
that the day of non-natural interpretation is over ; that He
intended to create a vast social change ; to make the em-
ployer regard his workman as his brother ; to make every
man regard injury to woman as injury to his own sister ; to
lead men to find Himself not in some mystical dream, but
in the often unselfconscious wants of those around them.
We hope, and we have grounds for hope ; we are begin-
ning to see the dawn of what fifty years ago would have
been impossible. We have found that even companies can
think of the bodies and souls of those whom they employ,
as well as of their own dividends ; we have found that it
has at last dawned on all, in a measure, that man is more
than money, character than possessions, purity and decency
than high rents. To the young we appeal, to those who
will carry these beginnings on by God's help to brighter
conclusions than we shall live to see. To them we would
say, ' Be true to facts as they are, study them, acknowledge
them ; be afraid of the cant and dishonesty that bolsters up
anything merely because it is our own ; but at the same
time learn to recognise beneath the most untoward and un-
promising things the workings of Christ ; see them in what
seems to be the unavailing protest ; see them in the growing
shame of acknowledged selfishness ; see them in the more
righteous public utterances of our leading statesmen ; see
them in the spirit that sets on foot everywhere new means
for benefiting the social life of people — in clubs, in poly-
technics, and in all agencies of the kind. Above all, believe
in the power of human aspiration when touched by the
living Christ. Hope everything from man because of the
Divine possibilities within him. And when he disappoints
you, and when you find no appreciation and no response,
198 SOCIAL HOPE
still remember your place is among your brethren, however
far they may stray.' We have a sure ally in everyone through
the Divinely-planted instinct of human aspiration. Above
all, we have the certainty that Christ is at work with others
as with ourselves ; that God has a voice through Christ for
every one of His children, and that in a thousand ways of
which we never know, if we catch the real social spirit of
Christ, even we may help to translate that voice to them.
THE SOCIAL OUTLOOK.
BY THE
REV. PROFESSOR H. C. SHUTTLEWORTH,
RECTOR OF ST. NICHOLAS, COLE ABBEY.
' / a77i not come to destroy, hit to
fulfil'— ^T. Matthew v. 17.
OUR LORD spoke these words, standing between
two worlds; the old world which was passing, the
new world which began with Him. He is ex-
pounding the old law in its relation to the new
order, and in these words He gives us the principle of
true progress. The world has advanced and grown, and
must always advance and grow, not by destruction, but by
fulfilment. Old institutions, old laws, old ideas, cease to be
effective, and pass away or are driven out ; but out of them,
and from what they have accomplished, is born the new
world. The future is the child of the past
And we, to-day, as this eventful century draws near its
close, stand at the meeting-point of an old world and a new.
Dean Stanley, in his funeral sermon on Lord Palmerston,
told his hearers that with the death of that Minister a new
order had begun ; that they stood ' on the watershed of the
dividing streams.' That saying would be far more true of
our own day ; not only because we recognise the close of
an epoch in the retirement of the last, greatest, and best of
the long line of our commercial statesmen. Everywhere, old
ways of thinking are being superseded, old institutions are
200 THE SOCIAL OUTLOOK
sharply criticised, old moralities questioned. New ideas are
in the air, our politics and our social order are being trans-
formed, our national life seems to be taking another direc-
tion. Naturally, there are some among us who look upon
the change with suspicion and dislike, and fear for its not
distant consequences. It is not to be wondered at. Old
institutions are venerable and picturesque ; they have done
good work in their day, and perhaps may yet do more. Old
customs and ideas are tenderly associated with our own best
memories, with our recollections of former years, and of the
I dear dead who made those years bright for us. And thus
, the fading out of the old world seems like the death of a
I dear friend, or the pulling down of the old house where we
spent our childhood. Christ looked with kindly tolerance
upon those who thus clung to the old order. ' No man
having drunk old wine straightway desireth new ; for Jie saith,
the old is better.' Yet from among them there spring prophets
of mourning, and lamentation, and woe, whose burden is one
of despair and gloom, with no note of hope or gleam of
faith. About a year ago we were all reading a ' Forecast '
of this depressing sort, by an able and cultivated pessimist,
who has no enthusiasm for the new ideas, and who looks
forward to the coming in of the newer order with calm, sad
resignation. A brighter and, we may believe, a truer view
of ' social evolution ' has just come into our hands, which
might almost be described as an exposition in terms ot
history of the text I have chosen for today. The laudator
te??iporis acti must be tenderly dealt with, the pessimist
must be answered, by those of us who believe that the
twentieth century will be a day of fuller life and richer hope
than the ages which have gone before it.
It is equally natural that, on the other hand, an epoch of
transition like the present should produce abnormal and
irregular growths, strange types, which are neither of the
old nor of the new. There are men who think that the best
jneans of heralding the new dawn is to fling a bomb into a
THE SOCIAL OUTLOOK 201
crowd of harmless people. There are those who believe,
w^ith Bakunin, that the only way to regenerate society is to
wipe it out by utter destruction, in the belief that a new and
better order will surely be evolved out of chaos. It neve^
has been so, and it never can be so. Such methods car
only delay the advance of progress. You can, indeed, casj
out devils by Beelzebub. But you cannot keep them outf
only angels can do that. ' His kingdom shall not stand':
for by fulfilment, not by destruction, the old passes into the
new.
As we endeavour to make our social outlook to-day, it
seems as though there is but one other period in the history
of the modern world which compares with our own time ;
one other such a breaking up of the fountains of the great
deep, such submerging of ancient landmarks in the flood of
new ways and new thoughts. That former crisis came when
the Roman Empire went down before the irresistible onrush
of the northern tribes. In that debacle, it seemed certain
that all which the older world had won, of knowledge, of
civilization, of law, would be overwhelmed and swept to
fragments by the flood of conquering barbarism. It was
saved by one institution : the Christian Church. Such is
the common consent of all historians, from Gibbon to Guizot,
from Sismondi to Sir James Stephen. Out of that hideous
confusion of blood and destruction, the Church created
modern Europe. Against physical force she opposed spiri-
tual ideals ; she made it possible for the old order to grow
into the new. The Church was the mediator, her bishops
true po7itifices — builders of bridges across the gulf which
threatened to swallow up ' the old perfections of the world.'
And now modern Europe is itself passing away, to give
place to a new age and a new order of things. Not now, as
of old, is it a horde of barbarians which sweeps down upon
fair lands and beautiful cities, to be won and held by force
of arms. But men and women are now claiming their part
in the good things of life; they are marching upon the
202 THE SOCIAL OUTLOOK
privileges and the possessions which the few have hitherto
held, and demanding their rightful share. Revolutions, we
know, are not made with rose-water ; and when ' the brute
despair of trampled centuries ' finds a voice and gropes for
its rights, there is likely enough to be a good deal of wild
talk uttered, and, it may be, wild work done."^
Is there a place for the saviour of the old world among
the forces which are re-making society to-day ? Once, her
bitterest foes being her judges, the Church saved civilization
and humanized the conquerors. Alone among the institu-
tions of Western Europe which passed through that former
catastrophe, the Church is still here. Can she do for us
to-day what she did for the world long ago ?
What are the invading forces, and what is their battle-cry ?
I. The first is the great army of Labour. All over the
civilized world, the workman has arrived. He is possessing
himself of political power, and he is resolved to use it to the
full. He has been marvellously patient through centuries of
oppression and exploitation ; and his patience is coming to
an end. Patience is not always a virtue, and contentment
is sometimes a crime ; and however we may wonder at and
admire the astonishing patience of the poor, we must admit
that the atmosphere of content does not breed reformers.
The labourer is claiming his right. He has not received,
and he does not receive, he tells us, the due reward of his
toil. He demands a share — a rightful share — of the wealth
he helps so largely to create. He wants a more decent
house to live in, a better wage, less exhausting hours of
work, more leisure, more certainty of employment. He has
surely a just ground of complaint against a society which
dooms him to face depression and want every few years, and
condemns him in old age to the workhouse. And his claim
is made in the sacred name of Justice. He marches under
the banner of his Right.
No Christian can treat lightly such a plea. It is signifi-
'^ W. T. Stead, 'Vatican Letters,' pp. 28, 29.
THE SOCIAL OUTLOOK 203
cant that the workman's case is founded upon a moral, not a
utilitarian, basis. He does not ask whether it would pay to
grant his demands ; he only asks whether it is not right and
just that he should enjoy the fruit of his labour.
My friends, we are bound to face this fact, that while
labour thus appeals to morals we are often apt to decline
the appeal, and merely to ask whether changes will pay,
especially whether they will pay ourselves. Is that worthy
of those who profess to take Christ for their Master ? We
may, if we please, proceed to make inquiry into the justice
of labour's claim. But unless we are prepared to accept
the appeal to Right and Justice, and at the least to examine
it, we are deliberately taking a lower standard than the
workman. The Church is pledged by the very charter of
her existence to accept his principles, and to proceed to
inquire whether indeed they justify his conclusion. If what
he asks is indeed just and right, it must be granted, cost
what it may.
It may reasonably be feared that at a time when so much
stress is laid upon the bettering of material conditions, there
may be a danger of forgetting spiritual ideals. Man cannot
live without bread, yet he does not live by bread alone. It
is right that every man should have equal opportunity ; yet
the life is more than meat. Possibly it may be the work of the
Christian Church, in this time of transition, to preserve and
maintain the spiritual basis upon which all material improve-
ment must be founded, if, indeed, it is to endure. In this
she can command the co-operation of the English labour
leaders. It is noteworthy that nearly all of them are re-
ligious men, earnest Christians, who place things spiritual in
the forefront of their work. 'The labour movement,' said
one of these men in my hearing, 'is a religious movement
above all.'
Can the Church do other than help, and bless, and
guide ? Her Founder was a workman. His Apostles were
abourers. Her glory is that she has ever been the Church
204 THE SOCIAL OUTLOOK
of the poor. Time was, in our own England, when it was
to the Church that the workman looked for consolation and
protection and help. How is it that to-day the workman
suspects the Church of his nation, and too often regards her
as the strongest and the bitterest of the foes arrayed against
him ? O you of the City of London ! the centre and heart
of English commerce and English social life ! how far is
this your fault ? How far is it due to our habitual appeal
to utilitarianism rather than to justice, to our preference of
the trader's question, ' Will it pay ?' to the workman's ques-
tion, ' Is it right?'
Upon the answer depends the decision of our former
question, Whether or no the Church can do to-day what she
did for the older world ?
2. There is another invading army, whose onward march
is perhaps more significant, more pregnant with consequences
to the future of the race, than even the approach of the
hosts of Labour. What is roughly called the Woman ques-
tion is by far the most momentous of our time. In the
English-speaking countries, at least, the women are claiming
a new position, and are beginning to advance towards its
attainment. Woman, like Labour, is demanding what she
regards as a right, a long-delayed measure of justice. She,
too, asks for a career, for liberty to live her own life, to do
her own work, to take her share in the government and
local administration of her country. The first positions are
already carried ; the principle is practically admitted as just.
Inevitably, here also, the time of transition has brought
forth strange and unnatural products. The ' Wild Women '
of a certain gifted, if somewhat unbalanced, woman-writer
are not altogether creatures of the imagination. The mistake
is to look upon Dodo and her kind as true representatives
of the coming woman. They are, in truth, representatives
of the middle period, between the old and the new j they
are types, and accurate types, of life in a time of unrest and
change such as this.
THE SOCIAL OUTLOOK 205
What has the Christian Church to say to the claims, the
pleas, the demands of Woman for her rightful place in the
new world ? There are certain sanctities which the Church
must guard and preserve, in the highest and most necessary
interests of the race. There are principles which she has
received from her Lord as the most holy of trusts. There
are fundamental moralities with which the Church can brook
no paltering. She dare not look lightly upon the loosening
of the marriage bond. She cannot forget that no nation
has ever lasted long which has admitted any possible basis
of society other than that of nature — the family. But out-
side the sanctuary of these most holy things, the Church
can have nothing but encouragement and help for those
who claim their due, in the name of Justice. The Church,
which enthrones the Madonna, and daily sings her hymn ;
the Church, which emancipated Woman from the degrading
chattel-servitude of an older time ; the Church, which first
gave woman a career, in her religious houses and her philan-
thropic institutions ; the Church, which has ever been the
protector and the helper of the oppressed ; the Church can-
not choose but bid Godspeed to woman's new crusade,
which does but carry to a conclusion the onward movement
that the Church herself began. Here, as elsewhere, 'the
Christ that is to be ' comes, not to destroy, but to fulfil.
It is He that sitteth upon the throne who ever maketh
all things new. If the foundations of things are shaken,
who is it that shaketh the heavens and the earth ? Times
of transition are times of confusion and perplexity, but they
are times of hope and faith. For in the passing of the old
world, and the incoming of the new, we find a new revela-
tion of the Christ who works in history, and makes Himself
more plain before the face of man, as the ages sweep onward
to their destined goal.
When the church of the Eternal Wisdom at Constant!
nople was captured by the hosts of Islam, and turned into
a mosque, the great mosaic figure of the Christ enthroned
//
2o6 THE SOCIAL OUTLOOK
in glory over the east was defaced and blotted out with
paint. But as the years went by, the imperishable mosaic
wore its way, so to say, through the fading veil, and the
calm Face once more looked down upon those who bowed
beneath. Some day, of a surety, that veil shall be removed,
and the throned and glorified figure of the Christ shall glow
in more than its ancient splendour above adoring Christian
crowds.
Even so has the face and figure of Jesus, the Son of
God, been dimmed by the folly and selfishness of His own
disciples, by the greed and cruelty and sloth of men. Still
He looks upon us with inspiring and humbling gaze ; still
His hand is uplifted in perpetual blessing. More and more
clearly, as His creation moves towards that far-off Divine
event, we seem to see Him ; and when the smoke and dust
of change has cleared away, lo, the Divine face is yet more
plain to our eyes. For the evolution of man and of the
world is but the clearer and completer manifestation of the
Christ.
THE END.
Elliot Stock, 62, Paternoster Row, London, B.C.
'*,y"«ton Theological Se
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