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NEW RELIGION
R GOSPEL OF LOVE.
BY E. ^^^r. GI^AY.
"From the nature of the case all questions remain open, and must so remain.
Each mind has its individual and indefensible rights. * * There can be no
authority until the authority has been established in the individual reason. The
only service one generation can do to another is to hand over its best thoughts to
its successor. . Bishop Foster.
CHICAGO:!
The Thorne Publishi
167 Adams Stro
1890.
3-^
Copyright 1890.
By E. W. gray.
All Rights Reserved.
DEDfCATUON.
The* following pages are respectfully dedicated by the author
to the lovers of truth who have found it difficult to accept Chris-
tianity as it is usually delfvered from the pulpit.
PREFACE.
The attentive reader will easily discern one purpose
running through this book — it need not be here
indicated.
That human nature is imperfect — at least less
perfect than it is capable of becoming under favoring
conditions, is conceded by the philosopher, and
assumed in all Law and all Religion.
Whether such imperfection be but the proof of
incomplete development, as the evolutionist would
teach, or the result of some ^^lapse" from original
perfection, as others hold, it is evident that the
reformer of whatever name, should do his utmost
to ascertain both the nature and extent of the infirmity
he seeks to cure, before commencing his medication.
There should be diagnosis.
All Religions seek to bring men to ideal perfection
— seek to qualify them for dwelling with the eternal.
Religion, therefore, is the reformer of highest preten-
sions. There are Religions, old and new, but their
success as reformers has not been reassuring.
Religion is so sacred that men hesitate to question
its competency and pretensions. They have hardly
Viii PREFACE.
dared to take off their veils and look at it as they
look at other things. The Scientist proceeds with
open eyes and ears from what he thinks he knows, to
find out what he wants to know — proceeds from the
known to what reason can affirm as true. The Relig-
ionist proceeds from a blind impulse, and from what he
finds in certain books, received as of divine authority,
to find what will satisfy his yearning and corroborate
his beliefs.
The method of the Religionist is at fault. It will
never give him certainty. Religion should be stud-
ied as other subjects are studied — studied in accord
with and in the spirit of the scientific method. — At
least, the following pages have been written under
this conviction.
The distrust felt in regard to all the means and
institutions relied on for bettering the condition of
men and conserving human happiness is deep and
wide. Men look to them across a wild waste of
unchecked vice and suffering — look and cry for help
in vain. It is felt moie and more that there must be
revolution — that a better destiny awaits humanity
through changed -methods and conditions.
The institutions of the past are called upon to
account for their comparative failure — to render a
sufficient reason to the future for continued existence.
Even the church cannot be permitted longer to reign
by ^'Divine Right." Tyranny and injustice will not
longer be permitted to take refuge under her altars.
The Old Religions have been weighed in the bal-
PREFACE. IX
ance and found wanting. The New Religion pro-
mises better. But her success in a stretch of nearly
2,000 years has not been all that could be desired.
Are her latent potencies likely ever to prove equal
to the occasion? Is a genuine Christian socialisnij
and through it, a greatly improved condition of
the race, possible among men? The author has
hope in the future of humanity under the Christian
regime. The discussion is very inadequate. No
one can be more sensible of this than the author
himself.
Many important questions have been raised. If
their discussion shall prove suggestive, he will be
content.
E. W. Gray.
Bloomington, 111., June 25, 1890.
CONTENTS.
PART I.
Anthropology^ . . _ . Pages, i to 117
PART II.
The Old Religions, ~ - Pages, 118 to 200
PART III.
The New Religion, - - Pages, 203 to End
INTRODUCTION.
There is a wonderful economy or saving in the
forces of the universe. One thing so conditions
and supplements another that nothing is isolated,
unrelated or lost. Planets and suns and systems are
held in the wide embrace of one law of gravity; one
subtle, inexplicable life force pervades and animates
the vegetable and the animal world. And such is
this economy in the use of forces that there is practi-
cally a whole world for each separate thing; a sun to
shine for each plant and tree, and to give life to each
insect, bird, animal, child and man. Practically,
there is a world, a universe for each human being.
The laws of nature, of chemical and vital affinities
wait upon and minister to each one just as faithfully
as if there were no others; for each the sun shines
and the seasons come and go; for each there are the
boundless realms of truth, of beauty, of love and
right; and the fact that there are millions of these
human beings to share in this vast wealth of things
does not lessen, but enlarges the possibilities of each.
Man is the face, the front, the forward-reaching of
the creation. In him the creation comes to self-
XIV INTRODUCTION.
consciousness. In his backward reaching parts he is
joined on to the material forces; is held fast by them
so that one part of his being is automatic or self-act-
ing, and moves along without his consent, and in sleep
without his knowledge. And thus whilst he stands
erect and with forward-looking face, his feet rest upon
the ground and his backward-reaching parts shade off
into the earth, of which they were once a part, and
from which they have come; whether by evolution
or special creation we need not now ask.
But whenever, or however, man is here; and he is
here with face and forward look and movement; and
he is here with self consciousness. He not only is,
but he knows that he is, and he turns round and talks
with himself, and ask of himself what he is, and
whence he came, and whither and to what he jour-
neys. Nor can he cease to ask.
Man is not only the face of creation, but, as a
rational self-conscious being, he is at once the inter-
preter and the interpretation of both himself and the
universe. He can knov/ things only as he knows
himself, and hence in the terms of self-knowledge.
He knows matter because he is himself material; he
knows reason because he is rational; he knows the
good because he is .himself divine. And hence man
has always and everywhere been a religious being,
has had a religion and a worship. Religion is a part
of his being, the outgrowth of the deepest roots of
his nature. Religion was not an invention but a
birth, and a growth; just as mankind see and hear
INTRODUCTION. XV
and feel because they have eyes and ears and nerves
of sense, and just as men reason because they have
minds and are in a w^orld of truth. So is man born
into moral relations and duties and responsibilities
and with a sense of right.
And just as the material forces wait upon the body
of man, so do the mental and spiritual minister to his
mind and heart. Each one has his own world of
truth, of reason, of sentiment and moral principle,
and yet it is the same world for all, though differently
apprehended. And hence it is only natural that where
many of these separate beings have for a long time
been under the influence of the same general condi-
tions of climate, soil and scenery, and under like
environments of social customs, laws and teaching
that they should come to have a common religion, as
that of the Hebrews, or Egypt, India, Greece and
Rome. And naturally enough, too, the growth of
ideas, and the intermingling of different races and
peoples would result in modifications and changes of
beliefs and forms of worship. But at the bottom, all
religions are one; they are the objectivized and insti-
tutionalized expressions of the rational and spiritual
consciousness of the race; just as all thought and
work are one in their common source and end, though
upon lower or higher planes.
It must be from some such higher conceptions and
larger generalizations that such great questions can
be intelligently studied; and such is the general
standpoint of the author of the New Religion. In
XVI INTRODUCTION.
this way he finds in the nature and needs common to
mankind a place and use for all the religions of the
world; and hence their classification and the analysis
of their peculiar excellencies and Qsffects, are broad,
easy, natural and helpful. He does not seek to make
a place for the new by denying the preparatory edu-
cational values of the old, but gladly confessing these,
and at the same tima showing their defects and limi-
tations, the new appears as an orderly development
or evolution from the lower to the higher; and thus
Christianity appears as the complement, the fulfill-
ment, the pleroma of all religions, and has in it the
principles and the life that are yet to absorb and
assimilate and unify all.
In so far. Dr. Gray is in harmony with the genius
and catholicity of our time, and is substantially at
one with the most thoughtful minds; but when he
comes to a definition of what Christianity really is,
the agreements can hardly be so perfect, and espe-
cially on the part of the dogmatic theologians. He
seeks with a studious care to avoid controversy or
giving offense, and yet, with a candor and love of
truth that are supreme, he is borne along, and one
point after another in the old orthodox system is left
by the way, and at last the New Religion is substan-
tially the new theology.
He accepts the super or higher natural, but cannot
admit the fact of law-violating miracles, and con-
fesses that, as the miraculous has been generally
defined by the orthodox world, Hume's argument
INTRODUCTION. XVll
against it is unanswerable. His views on this sub-
ject are clear, strong and helpful.
On the question of depravity, Dr. Gray differs from
the orthodox view in making it functional rather than
organic. He claims that the disorders that affect the
lower and higher nature of man are in the form of
deficiencies and excesses; but that these are derange-
ments to be corrected; they do not inhere in the
essence of his being.
And, whilst with his almost extreme care not to
enter the field of controversy, he does not distinctly
deny the doctrine of the fall of man, and of original
sin, it is evident that these old ideas have no place in
his interpretation of Christianity; and having taken
this ground, he very naturally finds no place or
need for the old doctrine of a penal or substitutional
atonement to ^^reconcile the Father," or to satisfy the
claims of justice.
But Dr. Gray has a deep conception of the actual
sins and needs of mankind, and of the manifestation
of God in Christ as the Father and Savior of the
world. He emphasizes repentance as the change of
the whole attitude of man toward God, and the moral
order of the universe, and sees in justification not a
cold legal pardon, but the charactering of the soul
in righteousness and filling it with the life of God.
And in all this he makes love the source, the moving
power in God, and the efficient agent in winning the
heart.
Indeed, in the New Religion, as interpreted by Dr.
XVI 11 INTRODUCTION.
Gray, there is no place for the old doctrines of origi-
nal sin or a penal or substitutional atonement.
His method not being controversial, he has
quietly slipped away from these old dogmas, drooped
them out of his system, and without formality of
statement or declaration of the fact, has put the moral
or paternal view in their place. And in all this he is
but returning to the earlier Greek interpretations of the
Christian religion, in which the doctrines of original sin
and substitutional atonement had no place. They
are Latin accretions, brought in by Augustine, and
adopted by the Roman Catholic church in the Fifth
Century; they are not found in the Apostles' or the
Nicene Creed; nor are the related doctrine of endless
punishment — a subject not discussed by our author —
and the uncomfortable fact is, that upon these points
the orthodox Protestant church holds substantially
the same views as the Roman Catholic. The reforma-
tion of the sixteenth century did not go deep enough
to touch the foundations; the reformers accepted the
Latin theology and sought to reform the abuses of
ecclesiasticism that had grown up upon it. This age
is going deeper; it is returning to the earlier spiritual
conception of the Greek fathers; it is a reformation,
not of external forms and abuses, but of the thought
of the Christian Vv^orld.
The author of the NeAV Religion stands upon the
broad and safe middle ground between the extremes
of a too destructive radicalism on the one side, and a
too dogmatic conservatism on the other. He takes
INTRODUCTION. XIX
truth for authority instead of authority for truth, and
as a result comes out at last into a great and reason-
able faith. The work bears abundant evidence of wide
and careful reading, and of much honest and patient
thinking, and through all is felt the spirit of reverence
and an earnest desire to do good. It is a valuable
contribution to the great religious thought-movement
of our time, and in such a period of transition and
unsettling will be a help to many minds and hearts,
H. W. Thomas.
Chicago, June 25, 1890.
THE NEW RELIGION.
CHAPTER I.
"Whatever crazy sorrow saith,
No life that breathes with human breath
Hath ever truly longed for death.
'Tis life of which our nerves are scant,
O life! not death for which we pant.
More life and fuller that we want."
Optimism or Pessimism, Which?
Notwithstanding the usual hurry and bustle of life,
there are few men who do not, occasionally, at least,
permit themselves to halt and stand face to face with
death and the evils which beset and afflict mankind.
That these evils are many, and grave, no optimist will
deny; that little has been done, or can be done to
diminish them, or to inform us how they can be
escaped successfully, the pessimist will claim.
There are evils which range high above all human
control, and challenge our faith in the wisdom and
goodness of the Creator. The earthquake, and storm,
and flood; ^^the pestilence that walketh by night, and
the destruction that wasteth at noonday." As to
2 THE NEW RELIGION.
these, and other evils which have hitherto baffled all
human wisdom and power, and which must do so in
time to come, what is the proper attitude of a reason-
able being — what response can be made to the pessi
mist?
Shall we turn stoic and attempt to ignore them,
and treat them as though they were not? Is this
possible? If possible for Cato, for Epectetus and
Zeno, is it possible for people of different nerve, possi-
ble for you and me and all men? Let us be candid.
To blink an evil is not to destroy it.
Of shall we decide with Epicurus to ^^Eat, drink
and be merry, for to-morrow we die?" But, can
pleasure cope with pain and death? Besides, Epi-
curus, art thou sure that thou canst quit the scene of
intermixed evil to-morrow, and dost to-morrov/ help
the pangs of to-day?
The subject is large — too large for this time and
place. But one may note: —
I. Fear exaggerates our evils; it enumerates and
dwells upon the chances against us; it closes our eyes
to the chances in our favor.
In the late war, when under the cannonading of the
enemy, all our regiment, excepting one man, were
crouchmg and hiding behind trees and logs, now
and then a shell would crash through the distant tree-
tops, or plough up the earth in a field more or less
remote. *'Why, man!" cried a fellow soldier, *'Why
don't you hide?" With cool philosophy, he replied:
**The danger is very little. Don't you see there are,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 3
in this wide field, many places to miss you and only
one to hit — the danger amounts to nothing." And
he proved to be right, for not a man was that
day touched. His fear had neither magnified the
danger, nor disturbed his repose, while the rest were
gloaming over disasters that were never to happen,
and needlessly suffering the ^ ^terrors of war."
2. Strictly unavoidable evil is a very rare thing,
when compared with the actual good.
To every one born blind and deaf, how many thou-
sands open glad eyes and ears to all the beauties and
all the music of earth and heaven. The adaptations
of means to ends everywhere seem perfect, not a com-
plete failure in the whole domain of nature. Man is
not an ill-assorted exotic m this world, not an ana-
chronism. He is fitted to his place, v/ith only the
least 'seeming exception. Take away avoidable evils
and there v/ill be left but comparatively few discords
to break the harmony in the chorus of human life.
Of the unthinkable millions of bioplasts that are
building cells and organs and tissues and organisms
in animated nature, how many fail in the perform-
ance of their appropriate functions, or through failure
jeopardize your life and mine? Of all the innumera-
ble heavenly host each makes its swift and tireless
flight round and round without touch or conflict.
When a comet was discovered apparently dashing
out across circles and spheres in wild and seeming
disorder, men quailed, lest it might hurl itself upon
some unoffending child pf the sky^ with instant di^-
4 THE NEW RELIGION.
aster. But a little more knowledge discovers that
even the comet is not an unbound fiend, broken loose
from the order of the upper deep. It, too, has its
purpose and mission, and goes obediently forward to
its eccentric destiny.
But, if there be here and there a seeming break,
striking down into the prevailing order, let us note
that within certain large limits the Divine Artificer is
present, with loving hands to work repair.
The foul ulcer heals again. The fractured bone
knits. The deepest disappointment drops more and
more out of mind, and even the violated conscience
ceases to chide when true sorrow has ministered re-
tribution for sins committed.
3. Then, too, and finally, there are compensa-
tions.
^^Blind Tom," who some years ago traveled in this
country, was a marvel of success in certain kinds of
music. A better development of the other senses,
and especially the touch, largely compensates his loss
of sight.
It may be doubted whether the total deafness of
Beethoven, at thirty years of age, did not after all
prove a blessing, like many others, in disguise, by
concentrating his thought upon the symphonies that
have rendered him immortal. The mother goes down
into the dark depths of a suffering, uncertain fate,
to emerge again, if she survives, into the sunlight
and joy of a broader and more significant life; and,
how often have we seen the dire heart-breaks of some
ANTHROPOLOGY. 5
smitten child of seeming misfortune hasten to issue in
a joyous experience which had had no antecedent
equah Were there no darkness, CQuld we enjoy the
hght? Evil, sometimes, because of our narrow vision
and short sight, appears to be only evil, but afterward,
when the sky has cleared, we can see the good it has
brought us. All things, according to Emerson, are
'^double,' and a compensating good ^^is mate of
evil." Israel' s king could say, ^*It was good for me
to be afflicted; ' and we are told that somehow ^^the
Captain of our salvation was made perfect through
suffering.'* Yes, there are compensations. Grant
then, to the pessimist, that there are evils which can-
not be escaped, that human life is sometimes darkly
over-clouded, that it is short and feeble — of few days
and full of trouble, and seemingly inadequate to its
task, we may yet hope that in the hereafter there will
be an answering life and benediction, adequate to
compensate and cancel all loss, and all sorrow. Vice
is self-destructive. It is always cutting and wound-
ing itself^ — sapping its own foundations, and its power
of self-destruction is cumulative as it advances. But
virtue is self-preservative. It never hurts itself. It
is cumulative in its power of self-preservation. It is
in accord with nature's order — with all the eternal
verities. Sometime, therefore, within the cycles of
being, we may hope that vice will die, that truth will
triumph over error, and that virtue will win the victory
— will crown and bless the life immortal — Optimism.
-M >Y -^ ^^Somehow good will be the final goal of ill.' *
'The proper study of mankind is man." — Pope.
CHAPTER II.
The Ideal Man.
The ideal physical man, proportional in body and
limb is, say six feet tall, and weighs 175 pounds.
For all purposes of strength, agility and endurance,
this may be accepted as a standard.
He is endowed with five senses, and with appetites,
propensities and passions, or rather with such
capacities as make these sensibilities possible and
real.
The real man varies from the ideal in stature,
through a wide range of imperfection. We find him
of every conceivable size and proportion, from the
giant to the dwarf — from the typical and finely devel-
oped American to the diminutive and swarth}^ Bush-
man of Africa.
Where no violence has been suffered, the power
of endurance and length of life are, within limits, in
proportion to the perfection of the physical organism.
All men have a sense of something better possible —
some intuition of an ideal state of perfection and hap-
piness, toward which they aspire with something of
desire and effort; and per contra a corresponding
sense of imperfection and ill-desert, from which they
would fain escape.
8 THE NEW RELIGION.
'^All human law proceeds upon the assumpton that
the race is sinful, and history records the fact. There
are no religions which are not found in the conviction
of human imperfection."^
So ubiquitous and inscrutable has evil, moral and
physical, personal and general, ever been that men
have everywhere apothesized it. The Egyptian had
his Typhon. The Brahmin and the Buddhist their
Siva, the Persian his Ahriman, the Scandinavian his
Loke, the Jew and the Christian their Satan.
That the organic union of the spirit with matter
was the source of all human imperfection and suffering,
was the doctrine, not only of Plato, but of the Indian
Seer long before him.
According to the Greek philosopher, the human
spirit had an ante-mundane existence, and was per-
fect, and perfectly happy, ^^following in the wake of
the gods."
But owing to some direliction, he does not tell us
what or why, he was condemned to be born a human
being — was imprisoned in a material body, retaining
only reminiscences of the former self. The senses
may not be trusted. The power of sense must be
broken ere he can escape life's torturing disabilities
and resume his place with the gods.
All philosophers agree in assertmg the frailty and
imperfections of men. Aristotle, while admitting the
universal infirmity, maintained, with singular insight
I. Barnes Ev. Chris. 19th Cent.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 9
and perception of the truth, the necessity of living in
accord with the order of nature, as a condition of
happiness.
According to Homer, two jars stand in the Palace
of Zeus, one filled with evil, one filled with good gifts
for men; later there w^ere two filled with evil and
only one with good. Later still, Simonides said, sor-
row follows sorrow so quickly that even the air can-
not penetrate between them.^
Seneca says, '^Not only have we transgressed; we
shall continue to do so to the end of life." It was
the complaint of our ancestors, it is ours, it will be
that of posterity, that morals are subverted, that cor-
ruption reigns. The human mind is perverse by
nature, and strives and strives for what is forbidden. ^
That something of this human infirmity is due to
unfavorable external influences — to climate, to envi-
ronment, to heredity, is conceded by all An ideal
republic from which the influences that tend to debase
men are eliminated, and in which the race, under
favoring conditions would grow toward perfection,
was the dream of Plato, of Sir Thomas More and
others.
Mr. Buckle has elaborated with profound research,
the iniSuences of climate and other surroundings,
and claims that vice and error are subject to law, and
vary with, if they do not depend upon, such sur-
1. Ullman Coni. Heathen, with Chris, p. 72.
2. Ibid, p -^8.
lO THE NEW RELIGION.
roundings. H^, says: 'It surely must be admitted
that the existence of crime according to a fixed and
uniform scherie, is a fact most clearly attested. We
have cha?r:6 of evidence, formed with extreme care,
under the most different circumstances, and all point-
ing in the same direction, and all forcing us to the
conclusion that the offences of men are the result of
the state of society into which the individual is
thrown."^
Mr. Leckey follows in the same vein of thought
and arrives at the same conclusion.
Des Cartes sa3^s: ''With respect to seemingly
natural impulses I have observed, when the question
related to the question of right or wrong in action,
that they frequently led me to take the worse part.^
"We must regret that even in the best natures the
social affections are so over-borne by the personal as
rarely to command conduct in a direct way, and in
accordance with this statement Compte proceeds to
speak of the radical imperfection of the human char-
acter."^
But this recognition of human infirmity in history
and philosophy becomes an impassioned wail in
religion.
The rapt Isaiah exclaims with poetic passion, "the
whol-e head is sick, the whole heart famt. From the
1. Hist. Civilization, Vol. i, p. 21.
2. Hand Book Philosophy, p. 210.
3. Positive Philosophy, pp. 131-13^.
ANTHROPOLOGY. II
sole of the foot, even unto the head, there is no sound-
ness, but wounds and bruises, and putrefying sores. ^
And the Psalmist, who was the best informed man
of his age in relation to the nature and the needs of
humanity, sa3^s in the same vein and to the same
effect: ^^They are corrupt, they have done abomina-
ble works, there is none that doeth good and they are
all gone aside, they are altogether become filthy,
there is none that doeth good, no not one;"^ while the
characterization of Paul, in his letter to the Romans,^
is something terrible.
In Adam's fall
We sinned all,
IS the brief postulate of the theologian; and the long
wail of the church concerning '^Original Sin" and
^^Total Depravity" is still ringing in our ears.
But without further historical reference we may
note that, while nearly all agree in asserting a com-
mon human infirmity, wide differences of opinion pre-
vail as to the causes and the extent of this infirmity.
Those who have studied the subject easily divide
into two classes:
First, those who hold that it inheres in the material
organism, and
Second, those who hold that man was created per-
fect, but subsequently fell into sin.
Some of those of the first class hold with Plato and
the Orientals, that the organic union of the originally
I. Chap. 5. 2. Psa. 14. 3. Chap. i.
12 THE NEW RELIGION.
perfect spirit with matter has resulted in its intellec-
tual and moral debasement, while thoje who hold with
Darwin and the Evolutionists, believe that men have
not yet outgrown the essential baseness of their origi-
nal being.
Of the second class there are those who hold:
First, that the lapse of man was so complete and
fatal as to vitiate his whole nature, and render him
absolutely incapable of virtue,^ and second, that the
lapse was so slight as only to disturb the balance of
his mental and moral powers, and to generate certain
tendencies to immorality, leaving him not vicious and
sinful /<?r se, but weaker and more exposed to tempta-
tion.^
Such, then, is the almost uniform agreement of
observers as to the fact of human infirmity; and such
1. Hagenbach Hist. Doctrines, Vol. 2, p. 25.
2. The English church following Augustine and Anselm and
fairly representing the so-called orthodox view of the Latin church
puts it thus: "When man sinned, that in-dwelling spirit, upon
which all his righteousness and holiness depended, was with-
drawn, and that image of God, which had been imparted, was
lost; and, along with this, men lost all power either of willing or
doing good works pleasing and acceptable to God; so that he is
very far gone from original righteousness, and of his own nature
is inclined to evil; having no power of himself to help himself;
not able to think a good thought or to work a good deed, his very
nature being perverse and corrupt, destitute of God's word and
Grace! In short, he was no longer a citizen of heaven, but a fire-
brand of hell and a bound slave to the devil. Hist. Denomina-
tions in Eng. and America, p. 240.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 1 3
some of the varying opinions as to the nature and
extent of this infirmity. The ideal man is but an
ideal. The real man everywhere furnishes the proof
of imperfection — sad, overwhelming.
If the old Indian or Platonic view of the essential
baseness of human nature be accepted, or still worse,
if the church view of ^^Total Depravity" is admitted,
it is difficult to see how any science, moral or ethical,
can be built up. Every manifestation of the spirit
has been touched and defiled, every moral phenome-
non has been perverted; how, then, can it be known
what the true humanity is, or can be? Where is the
starting point in the investigation? Can you ascend
from what is essentially imperfect and false to that
which is essentially perfect and true? If man is
without law and above law, to-day, in his baseness
and depravity, what will he be to-morrow? There is
nothing in his nature upon which to erect even a rea-
sonable conjecture as to what will be his place or
condition or character in the future, to say nothing of
the much greater difficulty of determining the L^w
and the destiny of his future being.
This difficulty was noticed long ago, by Dr. Ward-
law, in his Christian Ethics (4th edition, London,
1844). He says, ^'Man is both the investigator, and,
in pn.rt at least, the subject of investigation. In each
of these views of him there is a source of error. The
first arising from the influence of his depravity on his
character as an investigator, and the second from the
disposition to make his own nature (without advert-
14 THE NEW RELIGION.
ing to its fallen state) his standard of moral princi-
ples, and his study in endeavoring to ascertain them. "^
If the conceded moral disorder be indeed so radical
and complete, the conclusion of Dr. Wardlaw seems
entirely logical. Dr. Calderwood, who distinctly
admits the reigning moral infinity, very justly insists
that whatever the disorder m.ay be, ^^it is not such as
to destroy reason and render men unable to make true
and changeless moral distinctions. " ^ It cannot be total.
It seems evident enough that whatever imperfec-
tion attaches to men, it yet leaves them in natia-e and
kind the same. Was man originally endowed with
intellect, sensibility and will power? He is yet so
endowed. Was he created able to perceive, to
acquire knovv^ledge, to reflect, to compare and make
deductions? He is yet so able. Was he endowed
with moral sense, conscience, emotion, passion,
desire, affection. He is so yet. Could he make
choice, exercise volition, recognize moral obligations
and worship God. He can still do so.
No elementary constituent has either been added
or abstracted from the original mental constitution.
Men are not wanting in the elements of their man-
hood, but in the propriety of their functional activi-
ties— in the proper adjustment and co-ordination of
their powers — in the balance and equilibrium of the
affectional nature.
1. Vide Calderwood Hand-book of Moral Philosophy, p. 215.
2. Ibid.
ANTHROPOLOGY. l5
He can acquire and classify knowledge, point out
moral distinctions, discover law, and build science;
but, mark you, with less success and brilliance of
result, in consequence of his infirmity, whatever it may
be, and however accounted for.
But, leaving science proper out of the question,
and looking to practical results, it is obvious that the
respective theories of human infirmity differ greatly.
If it be regarded as organic — congenital, then
manifestly self-immolation — asceticism is the ethical
and religious requirement. If it be regarded as a
lapse from original perfection into absolute total
depravity, then the death and destruction of the old
man, and the regeneration of a new man is the
desideratum.
But, if the infirmity amount only to a disturbance
and disorder of the once co-ordinated powers, then
such discipline and moral influence as will tend to
restore the balance and equilibrium of the mental
and moral nature, is the desideratum — the logical
requirement.
If the theory of evolution be the true one, then
what? Age on age of experience with the * 'Survival
of the fittest," good feeding, sanitation, a favoring
climate, and other meteorological conditions, and,
especially, the study of the laws of health, the possi-
bilities of heredity in the reproduction of life — all these,
will subserve and forward the general improvement.
But time, millions upon millions of years, is the
desideratum.
^^Quemcunque miserum videris hominem sclas."^
CHAPTER III.
Analysis.
Two principles must guide our inquiries into the
nature of man; and not less when regarded as infirm
and depraved than when considered in his normal
condition as the creature of God.
First. We must proceed by psychological analysis.
It is not enough for the patient to inform his physi-
cian that he is sick and suffering, nor will the intel-
ligent physician begin his medication upon such
information.
He will, at leasts attempt a diagnosis — inquire into
the location of the pain, the condition of the various
organs and tissues and their respective functions,
with a view of ascertaining, if possible, what the
specific lesion or lesions may be. And, obviously,
until this is done, he is not prepared to make intelli-
gent use of remedies.
^^To know ourselves diseased is half our cure."
The case before us is one requiring diagnosis. It
is not enough to say that man is a fallen being — a
sinful and depraved being] not enough to describe
his condition as one of moral disorder. It is not
enough to 3ay with Jererrjicih^ ^^the heart is deceitful
l8 THE NEW RELIGION.
above all things, and desperately wicked;" ^ nor with
Paul, in Adam all are ^^dead in sin;" nor with the
churches, ^^totally depraved." These and similar
descriptions, of which we have had many^ are general
— indefinite, and do not convey specific information
as to the psychological condition and status.
Writers on mental and moral science have very
properly directed attention to the elemental constitu-
ents of the human constitution, but they have dealt
more with the ideal man, than with the real man.
The fact of imperfection and vice, as they appear in
human conduct, is so constant and universal that it
must be included as a factor in the problem under
study.
Dr. Calderwood, while admitting the fact of moral
disorder, concedes to Dr. Wardlaw ^^that moralists
have not given that amount of consideration to it
which their admission of the fact clearly requires."
And yet, in writing his excellent and discriminating
^^Hand-book of Moral Philosophy," he himself dis-
misses the subject in a very brief chapter near the
close of his work — a mere appendix.
Locke taught the need of mapping out the limits of
the human faculties;^ and Bacon attempted a classi-
fication of error-producing defects under the designa-
tion of ^adols."3
1. Jeremiah 17: 9.
2. Stated by Leckey Hist. Ra. Vol. i, p. 400,
3. Novum Organum.
ANtttROPCLOGY. tg
feut ail these attempts at classification are clearly
wanting in psychological distinctions. The case is
one of disease and must be studied and treated as
such; a more intelligent diagnosis must be made
out.
Second. The second principle which is to guide
us, and which we must keep in view, is the design or
purpose of the Creator as it appears in nature, and
especially in the nature of man himself.
It is not here supposed that this design can always
be discovered and apprehended in its length and
breadth, that there are not instances in which it is
impossible to discover it. But, there are, in most
cases, evident and unmistakable traces of the divine
purpose to which we shall do well to give earnest
heed.
If we look into external nature we shall discover
upon every hand adaptation of means to ends in fur-
therance of some specific purpose of the Creator — so
many of these adaptations and so wonderful, that we
cannot doubt the Divine wisdom and goodness.
It is very clear that man himself was not made
wholly for himself. Although complex and many
sided in his being, he has an appropriate place, and a
part to act in the cosmic drama. Endowed with
the prerogatives of reason and conscience and
volition, we should expect him, within the sphere of
his capacity, to also suit means to ends and maintain
the order and harmony of nature. When, therefore,
we see him illy adjusting himself to the general order,
20 THE NEW RELIGION.
or worse than this, antagonizing it, we may be sure
that he himself has ceased to be what he was intended
to be, and should call a halt.
Following as we may be able the Divine purpose,
as the fabled thread of Ariadne into the dark and
sinuous recesses of human nature, and with earnest
fidelity seeking to comprehend man in his relations,
we may possibly discover, on the one hand, some errors
into which the more discursive thinking of men have
led them, and, on the other, obtain a clearer view of
some truths as yet but imperfectly understood.
I hold a middle rank 'twixt heaven and earth,
On the last verge of mortal being stand,
Close to the realms where angels have their birth,
Just on the boundaries of the spirit land.
— Dierzhavm,
CHAPTER IV.
Two Natures.
Man is a '' double-faced somewhat" of two natures
— a higher and a lower — a physio-psychic and a
psychic nature. But these so intertwine and blend
as to make it difficult, with our present knowledge,
to determine definitely the line upon which Lhey
separate.
On opposite sides they appear distinct enough — on
this, the limitations of matter, through which, by five
senses, the human soul struggles into consciousness —
on that, reason and the higher sensibilities. Here
appetite and propensity, with the fugitive gratifica-
tion which indulgence brings — there thought and love
and conscience, which heed neither time nor space;
but, from either side they shade off together into
apparent organic oneness.
The predominance of the lower nature is conspicu-
ous in the earlier life, there being scarcely a trace of
the higher life in the infant. But, with advancing
years, the germinal higher life develops, more and
more, and becomes conspicuous in the ardent aspira-
tions, the soaring thoughts and deep-toned sensibili-
ties of ripe manhood.
Thus organized into a complex unit, their respect-
24 THE NEW RELIGION.
ive forces operate upon and influence each other,
and unite in producing the hfe and character of the
earth-and-heaven-born man. Were they but properly
co-ordinated and directed, the whole life would be a
benediction, beautiful in the sight of men and of God.
But alas! Quem te Dens esse jus sit, non es — thou
art not, O man, what God ordained thee to be. The
Divine purpose has been, to some extent, frustrated;
there is not perfect harmony in the hierachy of the
affections; the two natures have come into something
of conflict, and human life and human happiness are
at discount.
The power of each over the other is potent, both
for good and evil. A defective co-ordination and
predominance of the physical may cripple and pre-
vent the development of the higher life, even to
insanity and idiocy, while illy directed spirit forces
may work great damage to the physical organism.-^
Thus it is, account for it as we may, one is born a
genius, another an idiot; one with such perfection of
the physical and nioral make-up as to almost warrant
I. The merest embers and spark of a headache may be blown
into a roaring conflagration by the steady breath of hypochondria.
Fear so disturbs the balance of the system that it delivers us
bound hand and foot to many a disease to which there was not a
shadow of necessity for surrender. You can scarcely count
your pulse without increasing it beyond the safety line. Try to
make sixteen out of your breathing rate by personal count and
find what a disturbing cause are induced currents from the upper
brain. — J. B, Taylor, in Christian Science Examined, p. 27.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 25
in advance the development of a well rounded and
beautiful character; but another with such a power-
ful ^^bent to sinning'' as to make it next to impossi-
ble for him to keep his wayward feet in the pathway
of virtue. Between these extremes of organic infirm-
ity, we have every degree and color of natural pro-
pensity and tendency.
These facts are of the utmost ethical significance.
It is plainly impossible to intelligently prescribe a
rule of discipline and conduct for any one unless we
know something of his peculiar weaknesses and
temptations. It is most evident that different persons
start into life with widely different aptitudes and
tendencies, a fact that should be distinctly recognized
by the casuist and the teacher, and by jurors and
judges in courts of justice as well.
What, then, can be done — quid esse potest? Can
the most happily constituted be improved? Can the
less fortunate be helped? and how? These are ques-
tions for the philanthropists and the philosophers of
all the ages.
It is the purpose of this work, in part, to assist, if
possible, in making intelligent answer to these ques-
tions— to examine, very briefly, into the feasibility
and propriety of the reformatory measures that have
been proposed by the leaders of thought, in different
ages, and to present the claims of the Christian
regime as best suited to the work in hand.
Let us consider the reason of the case, for nothing is law that k
not reason."
CHAPTER V.
The Lower Nature.
How to improve the race in physical manhood is a
question for the biologist, and the physiologist; and a
very serious and important question it is, too, since
confessedly a sound body has very close relations
with a sound mind — ''Mens sanis in sane corpore.'"
The fact that the length of a generation, in civilized
countries, has steadily increased during the last 300
years, is principally due to hygienic causes and better
knowledge of the laws of health. As men emerge
from barbarism, the life term of a generation is hardly
more than a score of years. Three hundred years
ago, in Europe, it was less than thirty years. The
average length of life, as given by the British C37CI0-
pedia, is in Europe, 34 years; in Prussia, 39.8; in
Naples, 31.65.
In the olden time it was said: '^The days of our
years are three score and ten, and, if by reason of
strength, they be four score, yet is their strength labor
and sorrow, for it is soon cut off, and we fly away."
Ps. 90: 10. And it is remarkable that this limit of
life, observed by the intelligent seer 3,000 years ago,
has remained substantially unchanged from that day
to the present.
28 THE NEW RELIGION.
But, at best, this is a sadly low rate of longevity.
Improvident living, exposure, the abuse of over-work
and over-excitement, climatic and meteorological
influences, avoidable and unavoidable diseases, whose
name is legion, all unite to render the average life of
man much shorter than it was clearly intended to be.
We learn from the Bible record, that Abraham
lived 175 years, Jacob 147, Moses and Joshua 120,
and we know that such exceptional prolongations of
life still occur. Peter Czartan, a Hungarian peasant,
born in 1539, lived 185 years; and Thomas Parr, an
Englishman, 152 years, and died of an accident.
From the census taken during the reign of Vespasian,
Pliny enumerates 740 cases, taken from the region
between the Apennines and the Po, whose average
age was 123; and Dr. Farr, from the census enumera-
NoTE. — Among litterateurs, poets, and men of renown, Tasso,
Virgil, Shakespeare, Moliere, Dante, Pope, Ovid, Racine and
Demosthenes, died between fifty and sixty years of age. Lavalet,
Bocaccio, Fenelon, Aristotle, Cuvier, Milton, Rosseau, Erasmus
and Cervantes, between sixty and seventy; Dryden, Petrarch,
Linnaeus, Locke, Handel, Gallileo, Swift, Robert Bacon and
Charles Darwin, between seventy and eighty. Thomas Carlyle,
Young, Plato, Buffon, Goethe, Franklin, Sir W. Herschel, New-
ton, Voltaire, between eighty and ninety; and, between ninety and
one hundred, Sophocles, Michael Angelo and Titian.* Their
average length of life being well up to the good old standard of
"three score and ten." These higher pursuits and larger respon-
sibilities are not inimical to health an^ longevity as they are
sometimes supposed to be.
^ Bncj^clop. grittanica,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 29
tion and registered deaths in England and Wales,
shows that out of every million of the population, 223
attain the age of 100. Haller and Buffon could see no
reason, in the human organism, why the rule should
not be 100, instead of ^^three score and ten."
^ ^Learned writers," says Dr. N. S. Davis, of Chi-
cago, ^^have expressed widely different opinions con-
cerning the natural duration of human life. Hufe-
land has claimed it to be 200 years, and others have
fixed upon periods varying from 100 to 150 years. The
greatest age attained by any individual in modern times
is 169 years; while the youngest old man on record
was Louis II, king of Hungary, who was crowned
when two years old, succeeded to the throne in his
tenth year, was married in his fifteenth year, and
died, wornout and gray, in his twentieth year." ^
But whatever the normal period of life may be
or. was intended to be, there can be no doubt that
men were born to die. All history, all the analogies,
go to prove it. There may be, and doubtless are,
erroneous conceptions of death. The change it effects
is probably less than most imagine, and it may be
more than others believe; but the change we denomi-
nate death is the heritage of the race. Change is the
law of all existence. Everything has its sphere and
cycle of being — its death and resurrection. The very
rocks trodden only by the foot of time, yield their
imprisoned forceSi and start again into organic being,
I, Fifty Ye^rs and gej^ond, pp. 17, 18,
30 THE NEW RELIGION.
We know that the earth is momentarily cooHng, and
that the chill of death is already upon her North and
South poles. The earth itself must die. The moon
is already dead — so the astronomers say.
''Dust thou art, and to dust shalt thou return/' —
this is the irrevocable decree.
But the fact most to our purpose here, and one to
which attention is invited, is that the average life of a
generation falls so lamentably short of its possibili-
ties, as set forth in the cases of the greatest longevity.
The life of a generation in the most enlightened
countries is now about forty years, but much less in
less enlightened countries. Why should it not be,
instead of forty, a hundred years or more. Dr.
Davis, whom we have just quoted with pleasure,
speaking on this subject, says: ''The truth is, there
is no natural period of life common to all indi-
viduals," and such is the immense disparity, in the
life-period of human beings, we must hesitate to ques-
tion his statement. But, confessedly, there is a
natural old-age limit, beyond which none pass, and
this admitted, it implicitly follows that the period
which elapses between birth, its natural beginning,
and old age, its natural end, is the natural period of
human life.
' 'Order is heaven' s first law. ' ' Every sun and moon
and star counts its revolutions regularly and on time.
Vegetable life is annual, or biennial or triennial, etc.
The life period of insect, bird and beast is, for each,
something like a constant quantity. It is so constant,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 3I
at least, as to indicate the presence of law. The
exceptions can be accounted for on the score of
adventitious and disturbing causes. It indeed seems
reasonable to suppose that two or more beings of like
capacities, and like destiny, should have equal periods
of life, in which to complete the cycle of its activities
and enjoyments. Why should one sparrow or one
squirrel live longer than another, and for similar rea-
sons why should one man live longer than another?
Is his physical life-period without law? — all a matter
of chance and fate?
There are proofs enough that certain causes play
havoc with the human organism and cut short human
life. May not all of such causes account for the dis-
parity that exists in the life-period of the several indi-
viduals, on the theory that each one is born to a
natural period of life common to the race?
But, if this be true, every child of humanity
has a birthright to the full term of man's appointed
life, whether it be loo or i,ooo years. But, if so,
then what immense damage has been inflicted upon
the unfortunates who die in infancy and childhood —
upon all, indeed, who are taken off before their time!
From this point of view we shall be able to see
to what extent the physical life of man has degen-
erated, and the distance he must travel backward and
upward to reach the olympian heights to which he
was appointed by the Creator.
But though all must die, death never conquers —
:2ie^er annihilates. The Phoenix springs from her
32 THE NEW RELIGION.
own ashes. The crawling, helpless worm leaps from
its chrysalis into a more beautiful and wider life.
Force may be transformed, it cannot be destroyed.
Human life is here and now but dimly shadowed
forth, its destiny but hinted at. It is shut into con
ditions which more and more it spurns. These con-
ditions were suited to the first stages of its being.
They are utterly unsuited to the later stages and
must be changed. The full-fledged human soul de-
mands a changed environment — a ^^new heaven and
a new earth" — better facilities and larger opportuni-
ties to develop and display its powers, to fulfill the
Divine purposes, and find its goal.
The relation existing between a good physique and
a good character is notably intimate and constant,
and deserves the earnest attention of those who seek
to improve and advance the race.
The Romans, masters of the world 2,000 years
ago, appeared to the Etruscans as a '^nation of
kings."
The better classes of Americans — those who give to
the country its institutions, and its character, and who
bid fair to become the second masters of the world,
surpass all others in the uniform excellence of their
physical organism. A sound mind in a sound body
is an exhaustless source and the condition precedent of
great power, and it is true not only as to power, but
to knowledge, courage, virtue.
But the most important fact to be noted in connec-
tion^ is the indication the history of this, and gf
ANTHROPOLOGY. 33
conquering nations generally, furnishes, as to the
the means of improving the race as such.
Rome grew up out of an endless mixture of tribes
and races; and, through infinite crossings and recross-
ings, climbed to her superiority. When a nation has
become rich, and out-grown the need of active and
wide commerce, she soon settles into something like
mediocrity. Grand and striking characters begin to
disappear from her history. Physical and mental
degeneracy set in and go hand in hand.
America, thus far, has grown up under conditions
not widely different from those of early Rome. In
her blood runs every strain and type of European
life, and with her, it is becoming more and more evi-
dent, lies the progress and destiny of civilization.
Heredity — What does heredity mean? What are
its potencies as a factorig;;tlxQjiingj;guplift?
In his lower nature^^roa^SKi^eSj^ and,
as we have just sepa, a veryi>=p*w^^4id sicR^Y one at
that, one-half the/r^e dying in childhoodJL. vtle may
be improved or d«bg;sed^as are other animaip. If he
is to be much imprtii^ecj^-he must be bett&'l^orn.
The effort in our schools has been to develop and
improve the higher nature, rather than the lower — to
cultivate the mental powers by imparting knowledge.
But, as a means of improving the race as such, it has
not succeeded, and cannot. The improvement thus
effected is not transmissable from parent to child.
The individual is ^ ^educated" and, what of natural
ability he has^ is nursed and petted^ and here and
34 THE NEW RELIGION.
there one wins distinction. Grant, that, by his her-
culean efforts, he attains the heights of knowledge.
It is well, but alas! he transmits nothing of his splen-
did achievements to his posterity. His children,
with such inherited capacities as a blind fate has
bequeathed them, must begin, where he began, at the
bottom of the hill, and, possibly with less ability than
he had. It is the struggle of sisyphus. Generation
after generation follows suit, and no progress is made.
How many families actually deteriorate under the
discouraging process? What race progress has been
made since the days of Plato and Aristotle? When
shall we find another Athens, or another Alexandria?*
According to what we know of the laws of repro-
duction and transmission of life, and this, confessedly,
is very little, to our shame be it said, extreme ten-
dencies may be checked, abnormalities corrected,
*NoTE. — The assumption that the movement of man has always
L3en one of progress, and that the lowest forms of savage life at
present, illustrate, everywhere, an advance upon man's primitive
condition, seems irreconcilable with the facts of history. Unfor-
tunately there are, within the ranks of every civilized society,
large communities of persons who, though surrounded by all the
appliances of education, morality and civilization, are, in their
modes of life, habits and instincts, savages. All know that the
pauper and dangerous classes are continually recruited from the
ranks of those above them. All know that ihese classes transmit
their habits and character to their descendants, and that, were it
not for the constant efforts of the better portions of society, they
would threaten the very existence of civilization. M. B. Ander-
son, in Johnston's Cyclopedia, Art. Man.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 35
wayward propensity and illicit passion modified, at
least, if they cannot indeed be bred out of the life
entirely, and a better organic make-up secured.
This much, at least as to the lower animals, is
admitted. Intelligent stockmen understand and
apply it.
It is due to future generations that those who are
directing the educational forces, should not only
utilize all that is known as to such possibilities, but,
that they should provide such facilities for observation
and stud}^, as the obvious importance of the subject
demands, in order that research may be pushed to the
farthest limit.
Those who contemplate entering into the marriage
relation, should see to it that life's forces are so
co-ordinated that their children shall not be cursed
with hereditary vice and imbecility. They owe it
rather to their children that they should be an
improvement upon themselves — endowed with a better
physique and better powers.
It is hardly credible that intelligent men, capable of
reason and foresight, should so completely ignore and
disregard the possibilities of exalting their progeny,
on this line of improvement as they do. It does not
seem to have occurred to those who cherish their
off-spring with infinite care and solicitude, and who
labor to provide for them every advantage and com-
fort, without regard to expense, and self-sacrifice,
that, possibly, much that is more valuable than any-
thing money can purchase, or parental affection can
36 The new religion.
suggest, might have been secured to them had they
but exercised the sagacity and prudence of the com-
mon stockman.
What has been achieved in the domain of mere
animal life, and with comparatively little systematic
study, should stimulate the most earnest effort, to
realize greater results, in the higher human life. It
is one of the sad facts of history that so little atten-
tion has been given to the subject in scientific circles.
No chair in any institution of learning, either in
this country or elsewhere, so far as I know, has been
endowed with adequate means for prosecuting the
study of heredity. Most of what is known as to the
laws of reproduction and the transmission of life, has
been contributed by naturalists and stockmen, with-
out any regard to the possibilities of improving the
world-life of man himself. The effort has been to
cram him with knowledge, as though knowledge were
the chief good to him, to cultivate the tree from the
top downward, without regard to the soil and sap upon
which its fruitage depends. But thus, what is gained
for the individual, is lost to his progeny, and the toil
of sisyphus goes on.
CHAPTER VI.
The Lower Nature.
Appetite,
The organic physical life is imparted under such
physiological conditions as to require constant care
and supervision— instant and continued alimentation.
The air must give its oxygen, and various kinds of
'ood must furnish nutrition.
They must be regularly supplied and distributed
throughout the system.
And not less necessary is it, that the worn-out
effete matter which has served its purpose and been
discharged, shall be as regularly removed. The pro-
cesses of the physical life are many and complex. If
they were all understood by the individual he could
not attend to and execute them. To do so he must
blow at the lungs, and grind at the stomach, and
pump at the heart, and unload at the emunctories, all
at once and always, and yet not the half nor the hun-
dredth part would be done.
But, he is kindly released from all this. Another —
the all wise and all good, stands unweariedly by,
touching the keys, sustaining and directing the forces,
and the wheels of organic life continue to spin.
38 THE NEW RELIGION
But we soon discover that the spirit within — the man
himself, has, after all, a part to play. He must provide
food in quality and kind for alimentation. He must
provide against heat and cold and storm; and this
requires labor and vigilance. He has a part to play.
Will he do it? Will he do it as regularly and faith-
fully as it needs to be done?
He will. But, as if he could not otherwise be
trusted with such grave responsibilities, he is bound
by certain appetites and instincts to his part of the
obligation.
His instinctive love of money will provide the need-
ful means; appetite and taste, or hunger, will find
the food and see to it that he takes it in such kind
and quantity as the organism needs; love of gain,
appetite, taste, satiety, these are his prompters and
his guides, and, thus equipped, he is started upon
his world-life, whether it be for 100 or 1,000 years.
Means to ends — we are just hinting at them — how
beautiful all these adaptations, infinite in number and
kind! Behold how one eternal purpose runs through
all this blessed handiwork of God!
^^And God created man in his own image. In the
image of God created he him, male and female cre-
ated he them, and God saw everything that he had
created, and behold it was very good."
But, should one yield to these propensities — get
gain, indulge appetite, gratify taste — this were sen-
suality, Epicureanism. These appetencies are the
voice of God, and may not be disregarded. In 3^our
ANTHROPOLOGY. 39
shallow and short-sighted wisdom you sometimes set
them aside, and substitute your own wisdom. It is
an impertinence; it is worse than folly; it is a crimi-
nal interference with nature's order.
But you say the appetite and taste sometimes call
for what proves to be injurious, and therefore we must
take the dietary into our own hands. This is the
exception and not the rule.
Very often what you prescribe proves injurious.
What then? In the presence of the Creator's wisdom
yours is very small. Better follow appetite until you
prove it to be morbid and untrustworthy. Appetite
makes less mistakes than the doctor, and is more
worthy of trust.
That it is possible for disease, or the witchery of
the modern cook, to stimulate appetite and taste to
the point of causing them to make abnormal and hurt-
ful demands, no one can doubt; and, it is equally
clear, that some, losing sight of the grander possi-
bilities of life, abandon themselves to beastly indul-
gence. But such facts, taken in connection with the
sickening consequences of such intemperate indul-
gence, only make it more obvious and imperative that
the benevolent Creator's order of things should be
respected and maintained.
''Since the improvement of cooking," said Frank-
lin, 100 years ago, ''men eat a fourth more than they
need." But the trouble of overeating arises most
from too rapid eating, and want of mastication. If
the food be bolted, too much is swallowed before the
40 THE NEW RELIGION.
stomach has time to say enough. The error is one
not so much of appetite, or of cookery, as it is one of
mistaken haste and want of time in eating.
It is the function of appetite and taste, with their
dehcate and delicious pleasures, to subserve and sus-
tain the health and well-being of the physical organ-
ism, and their delightful ministries are not to be
undervalued.
But, to prostitute the nobler self to mere animal
gratification would but prove that one is more an
animal than a man.
CHAPTER VII.
The Lower Nature.
Aiuirice,
"Be sure to turn a penny, lie and swear,
'Tis wholesome sin. But Jove, thou sayest, will hear!
Swear, feast, or starve, for the dilemma's even.
A tradesman thou? and hopest to go to heaven?"
Dr. Calderwood, in his Handbook of Moral Philos-
ophy, argues, and logically, too, that the right to
acquire property is established, not by deduction, but
by intuition. But he does not inform us as to the
amount of property it is right for any one to acquire.
He claims that it is right and proper ^^to use one's
powers for their natural ends only,'' and in this, too,
he is certainly right.
What, then, are the ^'natural ends,^^ for the attain-
ment of which, in the matter of acquiring property,
it is proper to use one's powers?
Is the mere acquisition of property the end? Moral
philosophy, while it has decided that it is right to
acquire property, has not made answer. Men gener-
ally devote most of their time and strength to money-
getting. In view of the great and varied powers with
which man is endowed, and especially in view the
42 THE NEW RELIGION.
the limited possible uses of money, it is evident
enough that the acquisition of property, as such, is not
an adequate end for human conduct. It can be use-
ful, but for a short time, and at best does not respond
to the higher needs of men; and, the question returns,
what is the proper end to be had view in the matter
of getting gain — what is the moral law involved?
This, moral philosophy, and not ethics, must show.
But this, it has failed to do. Somehow, and partly,
no doubt, because of this failure, men have very gen-
erally come to believe, if we may judge from their
actions, that the acquisition of property, without
limit as to quantity, is right as an end, provided it be
acquired by fair and honest means. The practice of
the world appears to accord with this view.
What, then, is the law touching this matter.
We can only arrive at the answer by inquiring into
the uses — the real and only proper uses — of property.
1 . The body must be cared for — it must be nourished
and protected. But this requires houses, food and
clothing, and these again require money.
2. In the order of nature, and under the requisitions
of society from which we cannot escape, others
become dependent upon us in such a way that it
becomes our duty to provide also for them what they
need, and this requires money — property.
3. And then, too, no one should content himself
with providing only for the needs of the lower nature.
Money has important relations with man's higher
nature. He needs knowledge — the inspiration and
ANTHROPOLOGY. 43
gratification of art, music, painting, statuary. He
needs something of leisure — the comfort of rest, and
preparation for possible helplessness, sickness and
old age, all of which imply and necessitate the acqui-
sition and use of money.
All these, and possibly other nameable ones, we
may assume, are legitimate uses, and combined con-
stitute a natural end, toward which it would be right
to direct and exercise one's powers.
How much these icses would require, must be left
for the reason to determine, in view of the conditions
involved; but the amount must not transcend these
legitimate uses. If possible, the supply must be
brought up to this requirement, it must not transcend
it, on pain of misdirecting and irreparably damaging
the nobler self — a competency, and no more.
But alas! the old question. What is a competency?
It plainly differs for each individual, and in any
case it is a confessedly difficult question to determine.
It is a question for ethical science, but its discussion
does not lie within the scope of this work.
Whatever it may be, however, it requires a good
proportion of life's labors to provide it, especially if
one make common cause with humanity, as enjoined
by Christianity, and shrink not from the claims of
duty to his fellow men.
Two facts must now be noted — This propensity, like
others of the human soul, is liable to misdirection — to
abnormal, and especially to excessive development.
Too often it hastens to become a passion. It is pain-
44 THE NEW RELIGION.
fully evident that men everywhere are too much
engrossed by it. Men do not seek to acquire prop-
erty with a view to its proper uses — its ''natural
end,'^ though, contrary to all reason and philosophy,
they make it the end. The strife for gain is altogether
out of proportion with its possible legitimate uses. The
instinctive love 'of gain, beautifully adapting the parent
and the citizen to his own needs and the needs of
others, has become avarice — a remorseless passion,
and constitutes the characteristic activity of mankind.
It is always crying more and more, with insatiate
vehement desire. It has caused the most general
and the most excited and prolonged struggle that has
ever taken place in this world. What means this
running to and fro? What means the storm and
thunder of rushing wheels and roaring furnaces —
money, money, for purposes good or bad? Mammon,
in the world's Pantheon, is the one God, which,
more than any other, receives the homage of the
human heart.
And the blighting effects of this idolatry are terrible.
It saps and dwarfs the whole intellectual and moral
nature. It beclouds conscience, dries up sympathy,
perverts desire. It captures and binds the will and
hurls its miserable victim into one hot pursuit of gold,
leaving him a wretched miser, a crazy fool, an object
of scorn and pity.
Pope sketches him:
"I give and devise," old Euclio said,
And sighed, "My lands and tenements to Ned,"
ANTHROPOLOGY. 45
"Your money, sir?" "My money, sir, what, all?
Why, if I must," then wept, 'I give it Paul."
"The manor, sir?" "The manor! hold!" he cried,
"Not that! I cannot part with that," and died.
From him whose unerring reason and conscience
guide him steadily to the proper use of money, and
restrain the exercise of his powers to their "natural
end,'" we have every degree and shade of parsimony
and avarice, down to the hardened wretch who, on the
altar of his insane idolatry,
"Sacrifices ease, peace,
Love, faith, integrity, benevolence, and all
The sweet and tender sympathies of life."
The second consideration requiring notice in this
connection, is the perishable nature of this affection.
Whatever may have been the development of the
passion for gold, and however it may have swayed the
will and engrossed the life, it will end, and cease to
be, with the present life.
In the foregoing pages it has been assumed, and
illustrated somewhat, that two natures combine to
constitute man as he is in the present life.
It is now time to note that one of these natures,
the lower, has relations only with this world and can-
not survive the grave. It is of the earth, earthy. It
is adapted to the present sphere of life and environ-
ment, and to this only.
Appetite and taste, and, not less, the love of gain,
have their uses and appropriate functions, but they
belong to the mundanq lif^. ^^Flesh and blood can-
46 THE NEW RELIGION.
not inherit the kingdom of God." We know they
do not. They go into the grave and remingle with
the earth. In the process of eternity they may again
start into organic Hfe; but never again in connection
with the spirit that has outgrown them, and gone to
its w^ider destiny.
How much, soever, or how little, the lower instincts
and sensibilities have added to the sum total of human
life, at death their mission ends, and henceforth they
can exist only as a memory. Indeed, it is well known
that some of them cease before death.
'^When I was a child," says Paul, ^^I spake as a
child, but when I became a man I put away childish
things;" and all men do the same. A noticeable
change takes place in the co-ordination of life's forces,
as life advances. The spirit lets go more and more
of earthly interest as it takes hold more and more of
the heavenly. Not infrequently, the old, on looking
back upon their lives, see that they were once the
sport of passions which have now lost their power,
and wonder that they ever could have been so weak
and foolish as they now appear to themselves to have
been.
And none of these lower affections will more cer-
tainly cease their functions, for want of an object, than
this love of money.
But what then? He who has done little else in
this world than to hunt gold — what of him?
If we grant th^c ^ne has honestly devoted his ener-
gies to providing the means needful to life's best pur-
ANTHROPOLOGY. 47
poses, as he is bound to do, he must yet realize at the
end of his world-life, a great change, not only in the
circumstances and conditions of his life, but in the
objects of it.
But he has not broken with the Divine order. He
has not violated his conscience, or committed sin, in thus
employing his powers. He has made the trip over
the sea of his initial life without foundering upon
breakers, and under the sunshine and the smiles of
the Eternal, he enters upon the higher life beyond.
'^Well done, thou good and faithful servant, thou hast
been faithful over a few things, I will make thee
ruler over many. Enter thou into the joys of thy Lord. ']
But suppose his love of gain has become an absorb-
ing passion, and, going beyond the legitimate uses of
property, he has devoted thought and care, and
anxiety and exhausting labor — all, to getting gold, as
an end, and this is what very many do, or, at least,
seem to do — then what? At death he must instantly
realize that his ^ 'first love" has died within him. The
object for which he so habitually lived and struggled,
is gone; and the disposition which made him capable
of such damaging misdirection of his energies, now
disqualifies him for his new relationships. He has
foundered upon the sea of his mundane life, and the
garnered treasures, the fruitage of all his care and
toil, have gone down forever; and, stranded on the
nether shore, what is he but a hopeless bankrupt in
a foreign and inhospitable land. He has not laid up
for himself treasures in heaven.
48 THE NEW RELIGION.
His acquired fortune may have been princely, and,
left behind, it may prove a blessing or a curse — who
can tell? But as to himself, he cannot bank upon it.
Nothing of it remains to him but the memory of his
great and damaging mistake, and the consciousness
of a misdirected life.
'^How hardly shall a rich man enter into the king-
dom of heaven/'
I feel that I shall stand
Hence forward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore —
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double.
— Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
CHAPTER VIII.
Sexual Love.
We have been climbing up through the lower nature
of man. Let us put foot upon the last round and
mount to the heights of his world life.
The normal relations and character of man, in his
present state of being, cannot be regarded as com-
plete, without the co-ordination and adaptation of
male and female, and the interplay of those delicate
and charming sensibilities, which characterize, at
least, the reproductive period of human life.
The subject is a delicate one, and for this reason,
perhaps, has not received the attention of the writers
on moral philosophy which its ethical importance
demands.
The legitimate indulgence of the sexual passion is
sanctioned by all the powerful considerations that
influence men to cherish and cling to life as a price-
less boon.
If life is worth living at all, its inherent worth and
blessing must equal the sum of all that is good in life,
as the fountain includes the stream. And who does
not realize it to be such? Who would not quickly
give up all, to save his life. ^'AU my possessions for
an inch of time," said the dying queen.
52 THE NEW RELIGION.
But, if to become a conscious being, endowed as a
human soul, be such a Divine consummation, how
should we pause with reverence before those who are
charged with the duty and the responsibility of
reproducing and perpetuating the race. They are
trusted with the dangerous power of executing the
Divine will, and with what humble and prayerful
solicitude such a trust should be accepted! — with
what conscientious fidelity and singleness of purpose
should such high prerogative be exercised!
The duty, in a sense at least, is Voluntary, and,
will not such solemn responsibilities be declined?
No. The passion of sexual love is instinctive — an
intuition, and maintains such power over the will,
and so subordinates conflicting motives, as to secure
and w^arrant the acceptance of the trust, with its
responsibilities.
Whatever may be our religion or our philosophy,
we can hardly doubt that it was made the duty of
man to ^ ^multiply and replenish the earth," in order
that it may be ^^full of the knowledge of the Lord as
the waters cover the sea." This consummation has
never been achieved, at least so far as we know.
The earth has never been filled to its capacity with
human beings.
The number of people in Belgium to the square
mile in round numbers, is 484, while the average
population per square mile in the whole of Europe,
Asia, Africa, on the American continent, and
ANTHROPOLOGY. 53
Australia, is but sixteen — the average of the ''Dark
Continent/^*
With the proper facilities for the exchange of the
products of one section of the earth with those of
another — ''free trade and sailors' rights," there can
be no doubt that the limit actually attained in Bel-
gium, and closely approximated in other countries,
could be greatly surpassed, and the fears entertained
by Malthus, of a disastrous surplus and excess of
population, may well be considered groundless.
In accord with this evident need of multiplying
and replenishing the earth, the instinct of sexual love
is born into the race, and has its legitimate and
sacred functions — its beneficient and far-reaching
purposes, pure and holy in the sight of God.
But alas! in the face of such proofs of these divine
and solemn appointments, what do we behold!
The race has indeed been reproduced and main-
tained through the long ages, and for some hundreds
of years has been slowly augmented, but the fore-
going figures go to show how slow the process of
*Dr. Strong, in his valuable work entitled "Our Coun-
try," gives the following: "According to recent figures there is
in France a population of 188.88 to the square mile; in Germany,
216.62; in England and Wales, 428.67; in Belgium, 481.71; in
the United States, not including Alaska, 16.88. If our population
were as dense as that of France, we should have, this side of
Alaska, 537,000,000; if as dense as that of Germany, 643,000,000;
if as dense as that of England and Wales, 1,173,000,000; if as
dense as that of Belgium, 1,430,000,000" — a population equal in
numbers to that of the whole earth.
54 THE NEW RELIGION.
filling up the earth to its capacity has been. Man^
misdirecting and abusing his high prerogative, has
miserably failed to work into the larger purposes of
the Creator. If we may accept the Hebrew Canon
as reliable history, the race, once at least, closely
approached entire extinction.
That nature's order and purpose have not been
respected and maintained, no one can doubt. Here,
as elsewhere in the affectional nature, misdirection
and great disorder prevail. The sexual passion has
run riot into all conceivable and damaging excesses,
and under conditions wholly incompatible with the
proposed reproduction and extension of the race. In
its revolting history it has furnished proof of the
deepest and foulest depths of human depravity, any-
where to be found among men. Its seething corrup-
tion is to be seen in all lands — its foul presence may
be traced through the ramifications of society and
into almost every household. Alas for poor misguided
humanity! ^Ts there no balm in Gilead — no physi-
cian there? Why, then, is not the hurt of the daugh-
ter of my people recovered?"
But, granting all that can be said of sexual love —
its divine appointment and sacred functions, and,
bewailing its measureless misdirection and abuse, we
must not fail to note its destiny. It is of the lower
nature of man, and belongs only to the world life.
Whether it has sweetened or embittered the life, or,
added much or little or nothing to the sum total of its
realizations, ^tis all the same — it cannot survive the
ANTHROPOLOGY. 55
grave, except as a memory. In the divine order of
things, it has served its purpose. It was appointed
to preside over the reproduction and extension of the
race. It walked hand in hand with the highest pre-
rogatives and most solemn responsibilities, and shed
its fascinating light upon life's pathway. How beau-
tiful in its appointed ministries! How sacred and
God-like its functions and its fruitage!
But, with the mundane life it goes. The undying
spirit, emancipated from its grosser environment, is
also relieved henceforth, from the responsibility of
reproducing and extending the race of mankind. It
has outgrown the limitations of its initial stage of
being, and leaps into the larger life and liberty of
angelic being. Happy, thrice happy, he whose world
life has filled its mission, and to whom it shall be said
in the end, ^^Well done."
^^In heaven they neither marry nor are given in
marriage, but are as the angels of God."
All these merely biological forces lie within the
sphere of the perishable life. They have relation to
time, and space, and opportunity. Their purposes
are served here and now. But the higher powers —
reason, conscience, the affectional nature (exclusive
of merely instinctive animal affection), and the will —
are not limited by time or space. None of tnem have
special or enforced limitations to the present state of
being.
If one then give himself up to appetite, to sexual
love, to the passion for gold, to any or all of the mani-
56 THE NEW RELIGION.
fold but shortlived and fugitive pleasures of the sen-
suous nature, let him know that he is living the life of
the beast that goeth downward to the earth. '^If
thou sow to the flesh, thou shalt of the flesh reap
corruption."
But, if one will assert his manhood, covet the eter-
nal verities, consecrate himself to the pursuit of
knowledge and truth, to obedience to the behests of
conscience, to the blessed ministries of pure and holy
love, then let him know that he is treading already
the highlands of the life imperishable — that he is liv-
ing the life of a man whose spirit goeth upward — ^^If
thou sow to the spirit thou shalt of the spirit reap
life everlasting."
^^Be not deceived. God is not mocked. Whatso-
ever a man soweth, that shall he reap."
CHAPTER IX.
The Higher Nature.
Intellect,
For the purposes of our inquiry, we may adopt the
classification of man's power usually made by men-
tal and moral philosophers — three classes: (i)
Intellect, (2) Sensibilities, and (3) Will.
By intellect, let us understand, his thought-power.
To it belong intuition, perception, reflection, compari-
son, inference or deduction; or, as including all these,
reason.
Let us adhere to our method, and compare the
matter-of-fact man, as we see him in society, with
our ideal of a perfect man, with a view of defining
his imperfections as closely as may be. This done,
we shall, perhaps, be able to estimate the value of
the remedies that have been proposed for his bet-
tering, and to determine* which of these seem best
adapted to his needs.
^^Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright,
for the end of that man is peace."
We shall soon discover that man is defective in his
thinking power — has less ability, and knows less,
than he was intended to have and to know, on any
theory of his complex and high-born nature.
58 THE NEW RELIGION.
At his best, he can know but comparatively little of
the knowable. ' ^Man is not the measure of all things, ' '
nor was he made capable of becoming omniscient.
The mere fact that he is ignorant of some, or of many
things knowable, must not be charged to his
imperfection. If, as a thinking being, he fulfills the
purpose of the Creator, we must account him perfect.
But evidently the wisest do not know as much as they
ought to know for their own good; and this much, we
may assume, it was intended men should know.
We know very well that the five senses, upon which
men must rely in setting up the business of life,^ is
not always reliable. The sources of error open up
with the very first movement of thought, and under
every form of fascinating illusion, they are found
along all life's pathways.
It were a blessed thing if men could see eye to eye
always and everywhere, — if every effort made to know
the truth were made in the right direction — were to
accord with and aid every other such effort and prove
successful. But they are not so made.
All classes of men give sufficient proof of intel-
lectual anaemia. Philosophers studying the same-
phenomena, arrive at the most diverse conclusions.
In metaphysics each delving student appears to every
other in
"Wandering mazes lost."
Theologians, assuming to be taught from above, and
holding the torch of divine light in hand, grope
I. Leibig.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 59
their way, it would seem, very much as other men,
through the dark, and differ from and fight with each
other, to the shame of humanity.
The diversity of opinion and theory among men is
bewildering. Shall we decide with Darwin or
Agassiz, Hall or Tyndal, McCosh or Herbert Spencer?
Who approaches nearer the truth, the laughing or the
weeping philosopher? Plato or Epicurus, Aristotle or
Bacon, Hobbs or Hegel, Des Cartes or Locke,
Berkely or Condilac? What theories have come only
to testity to the weakness of human reason, and the
futility of speculative thought? What absurd myths
and dogmas are yet enshrined in the canons of our
most enlightened faith?
'^After 2,000 years of psychological pursuit," says
Auguste Compte, ^^no one proposition is established
to the satisfaction of its followers."^
The infirmity of the human reason has profoundly
impressed the thinking men of all the ages.
An oracle had pronounced Socrates the wisest of
the sages, and he humbly accepted the flattering
imputation, saying, ^ ^Possibly it may be so, since I
have discovered that I know nothing."
Anexagoras plaintively exclaims: '^Nothing can be
known, nothing can be learned, nothing can be cer-
tain. Sense is limited. Intellect is weak. Life is
short."
Xenophon tells us that *'it is impossible for us to
I. Quoted by Pressense Origines, p. 6,
6o THE NEW RELIGION.
be certain even when we utter the truth." Par-
menides declares that ''the very constitution of man
prevents him from ascertaining the absolute truth."
Empedocles affirms that ^'all philosophical and
religious systems must be unreliable, because we have
no criterion by which to test them." Democritus
affirms that ^^even things that are true cannot impart
certainty to us," that ^^the final result of human
inquiry is the discovery that man is incapable of
absolute knowledge;" that, '^if truth be in his pos-
session, he cannot be certain of it." Pyrro bids us
reflect upon the necessity of suspending our judgment
of things, ^ 'since we have no criterion of truth."
His followers were in the habit of saying, ''We assert
nothing — no, not even that we assert nothing."
Alcibiades denied both intellectual and sensuous
knowledge, and, going beyond Socrates, publicly
averred that "he knew nothing" — not "even his own
ignorance."^
These dicta will be recognized as somewhat tropi-
cal, and, perhaps, as having a touch of melancholy,
but they fairly indicate the self-distrust and humility
of all great thinkers. Arrogance and self-conceit in
the presence of the conceded limits of human knowl-
edge, may be accepted as good evidence of disgrace-
ful shallowness.
That our knowledge has touched the truth at some
points, or very nearly approached it, is proved by at
I. Drapers. C, p. 202.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 6l
least two facts: (i) As to the transmission of intelli-
gence and certain forms of intercourse and com-
merce it has practically annihilated time and
space, and (2) It throws its light into the future,
and enables us to know, with something of the
prophets ken, what shall be in the hereafter.
But at best our knowledge of the truth is confessedly
but fragmentary. No candid scientist will claim for
it anything more or better. The light that throws
its rays into the future is dim and flickering. It does
little more than to reveal the dense darkness in which
we grope, and gives little assurance that human rea-
son, at least in the present state of being, will ever
be able to penetrate the dark depths of the unknown
to any great distance.
But error, manifold, unblushing, stalks forth into
the light at every turn, and the energies of one age
are largely exhausted in correcting the damaging mis-
takes into which its predecessor had fallen.
Man has his place in the order of nature, with an
appointed sphere of activity, and within this sphere
there is scope for the exercise of all his powers. The
range of his five senses, by means of which he is put
in communication with the external world, is short —
a fact sufficiently indicative of the narrow limits of
possible knowledge.
But even within these limits, we find him blunder-
ing and blundering. *^His being's end and aim" he
should know. He should be able to apprehend and
appreciate the design and purpose of the Creator, as
62 THE NEW RELIGION.
they relate to himself, and affect his well being. He
needs to know enough to keep him from adopting
errors, and holding them for the truth — enough to
enable him to perceive and appreciate the truth when
presented — enough to keep him from falling into
damaging mistakes — enough to make it clear to him
what he ought to do. So much knowledge he evi-
dently needs to qualify him for the duties and the
privileges of life in the present state.
Upon a cursory view he seems very far from pos-
sessing, or of even being able to acquire, so much;
and yet we must believe that an all-wise Creator
would endow his creature with such capacities to
know, as would qualify him for his appointed sphere
of activity, and adapt him to his environment.
What then? Are we to believe that the ignorance
of men — their errors, their mistakes and consequent
sufferings are necessitated — that somehow the Cre-
ator has failed to endow his creature man with ade-
quate ability to avoid mistakes and follow the right?
Or shall we believe that something has interfered with
the normal development and proper exercise of his
powers — that some lapse has taken place?
The uniform adaptation of means to ends else-
where in nature, seems to prove that the former of
• these alternatives must be rejected. This is no world
of chance, nor are all those who accept error for
truth idiots, though we can hardly escape the convic-
tion that the inherent intellectual power of the race
ANTHROPOLOGY. 63
is less, from some cause, than it was originally
designed by the Creator to be.
However this may be, one great source of error
and damaging mistake seems common to men.
It is matter of easy observation that men who make
mistakes usually do so under the lead of some appe-
tite or passion. It is almost a proverb, that what one
does in anger he does wrong, and anger is not the
only passion that sways the will, and leads him into
error and wrong.
It may not be quite easy to say just how much rea-
son is at fault, and how much undue passion is at
fault, in any given case. One thing seems certain.
Men of well regulated passions and good poise make
comparatively few mistakes. And this is a fact of
the greatest significance.
Suppose the appetites and passions were brought
into normal and complete subordination, and held in
perfect adjustment with the moral sense or con-
science, by one who has done what he could to know
the truth and the right, if such a case is supposable,
would he be likely to fall into serious and hurtful
errors, and jeopardize his well-being? Is it not
indeed evident that the error often springs more from
an undue influence of some inordinate desire or pas-
sion than from want of mental power? Men always
know better than they do, and the deficiency — the
infirmity — seems not to be in the intellect, but elr-e
where.
The intellect is handcuffed and rendered powerless
64 THE NEW RELIGION.
by over-heated passion, which sways the will and
seeks to pervert the reason. It may be able to point
out the way to the truth and the right, but it cannot
command the passions, and it is passion — over-mas-
tering desire — that drives the barque upon the break-
ers and extinguishes the light which the intellect
would otherwise throw upon the dangerous sea.
But more than this. There is much difference in
the value of different kinds of knowledge — a fact
not half appreciated by the ordinary seeker after
knowledge.
Some knowledge, like the fruit of the tree of knowl-
edge in the Garden of Eden, is ^^fair to look upon
and good to make one wise." Some knowledge is
absolutely worthless — some positively injurious.
Cramming the head with ill-assorted knowledge
does not make one wise, but hurts more than it helps.
And here, precisely, lies the immense importance
which attaches to plans and courses of study.
It should be the object of the school to impart wis-
dom rather than knowledge. ** Wisdom is the prin-
cipal thing." Knowledge otherwise really useful
may be acquired, but, under the domination of some
prejudice or abnormal passion, may fail to be useful.
More frequently, however, some idle curiosity or dis-
ordered affection leads to an utter waste of mental
power.
Wisdom is the principal thing. It implies something
of knowledge, it is true, but more; something of
properly regulated sensibility as well,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 65
As we shall see more clearly further on, mental
philosophers, following Socrates and Plato, have, in
all the ages, exalted the intellect at the expense of
the sensibilities, and the damaging fact stands out in
all our systems of education.
Teachers have sought to communicate facts to their
pupils — facts of language, of geography, geometry,
astronomy, chemistry, philosophy. They have
sought to impart knowledge, to stimulate inquiry, to
inspire literary and scientific zeal and ambition, as if
a knowledge of science were the chief good. To
develop and cultivate the intellect is the one great
purpose of the prolonged drill and discipline of the
schools generally. '^Knowledge is power,'' and the
young, ardent student, touched by this wand of
Ithuriel, begins, anon, to dream of distinction. The
ignis fatuus of some ambition beguiles him into the
hot pursuit of knowledge as the one means of exalting
life.
But, in the meantime, what has been done to develop
a pure and holy love, and to bring the soul into har-
mony with God and all that it is good — to secure that
readjustment and equipoise of the affections, upon
which, more than upon all else, a good and noble
character depends? The sensibilities, and not the
intellect, constitute the motive powers of life, and
upon them, more than upon any mere knowledge,
the character depends, whether it be good or bad.
To educate is to lead out; but within the soul tnere
is more to lead out than thought power — the moral
66 THE NEW RELIGION.
sense, and other senses. The moral nature is to be
developed and directed.
Besides, there is within a ^'bent to sinning,'* as all
history declares, which is not to be led out, but
rather to be restrained and held in check. Educa-
tion must not be indiscriminate. If it be indiscrimi-
nate you may develop a monster instead of a more
perfect man. To curb this tendency to irregularities
and excesses of conduct, to direct the developing
affections to their proper objects, is infinitely more
important than to develop the thought power. You
need not fear. The reasoit is always fore^nost in the
pathway of virtue. Men always know better than
they do.
If you can restrain the nascent tendencies to vice,
and direct sentiment to its proper objects, your edu-
cation will be a success, though it should be less
sparkling and brilliant in its intellectual features. It
is rectitude that students need more than knowledge
— a conscientious determination to do the right
always and everywhere, semper et ubicunque. But
what is it that determines rectitude? Will the
mastery of science, as set forth in the college text
books, secure rectitude? Some of the highest forms
of intellectual culture make uncomplaining bed-fel-
lows with the highest forms of vice. It was the bril-
liant conception of Combe in his '^Constitution of
Man," that the devil himself — say what 3'Ou will of
his Satanic majesty — is but '^a mighty intellect broken
loose from the restraints of morality. "
ANTHROPOLOGY. 67
If, theii; there be any force in these considerations,
in all our schemes of education, such knowledge
should be imparted to the learner, and such influences
brought to bear upon him as will be most likely to
awaken moral conviction and stimulate the moral
sense, or conscience.
The limits of this work will not permit an attempt
to specify in detail what these kinds of knowledge
and influence are.
It will be granted that some kinds of knowledge
have little to do with sensibility. They do not stir
the soul or awaken feeling. They are ^^dry," unin-
spiring, abtruse, and, for most students, difficult to
acquire. Generally the recondite principles of
abstract science and the various forms of speculative
knowledge are of this character.
Such knowledge is suited and only useful to those
who have a penchant for abstract and speculative
science. It is neither suited to, nor useful to the
masses, and hence should not be mcluded in any
course of study and discipline mtended for the
masses.
Obviously there are kinds of knowledge that relate
more immediately to the sensitive and moral nature.
I may mention —
1. Such knowledge as brings to light the benevo-
lent designs and purposes of God in nature — his wis-
dom, his active benevolence, his beneficence, his
love.
2. Such correlative knowledge as discloses and
68 THE NEW RELIGION.
emphasizes the duties of men to each other, in their
domestic, social and political relations in life — knowl-
edge, if you please, that is rich in the fruitage of sen-
timent and fellow-feeling.
3. Also such knowledge and such teaching,
whether by precept or example, as tend to beget a
pure and holy love, — love of the beautiful, the sym-
metrical, the harmonious, the true, the good — such
knowledge, and such teaching as would be best suited
to bring out the strength and power of personal love
with its beautiful and overmastering ministries.
We pretend to be Christians, and, with Nico-
demus, we recognize one teacher ''come from God."
We bow with veneration to his superior wisdom.
In the course of study and discipline through
which he put his pupils, there was little attention
given to speculative thought, little effort put forth to
lead out or educate the thought power, except as it
related to the further purpose of awakening the con-
science, and securing a proper adjustment and bal-
ance of the affections. But to accomplish this fur-
ther purpose be devoted his most earnest attention
and prolonged effort. He sought, with unflagging
zeal, to bring men to a proper sense of their moral
condition, to awaken true sentiment and fortify all the
virtues — to bring the whole man, mind, heart and will
into harmony with all that is good, that is^ with God.
He saw what we should see, that the well-being of
men, in all the relations of life, ^depends more upon
ANTHROPOLOGY. 69
the moral than upon the intellectual status, and this
view determined the method of his school.
Such a school was a great novelty. Its like had
never been known. It differed, toto coelo, from the
Greek schools, then so popular. It differs scarcely
less from the schools now in vogue, in which the
classics, the higher mathematics and sundry accom-
plishments make up the greater part of the course of
study. Our schools are modeled after the fashion of
the Pagan Greeks, more than after that of the Divine
Christ, and they tend to produce the Greek character
more than the Christian character. With the Greeks,
we assume that the intellect is the chief constituent
of human nature — the chief factor of human life and
destiny. But the great teacher whom we nominally
venerate, more philosophical, more correct in his
estimate of the character-forming power of the sensi-
bilities, and more clearly apprehending the disci-
plinary needs of the soul, addressed himself to the
development and proper direction of the affectional
nature.
And in this he succeeded — succeeded as no other
teacher ever did succeed — not by formal teaching
so much as by his manner of life. He it was that
more and better than all others let his light shine.
If the range of ideas was comparatively narrow, it
had altitude and depth. If his words and his
thoughts were few, they were ^^words that breathed,
and thoughts that burned.''
His estimate of the worth and high destiny of men,
70 THE NEW RELIGION.
even the lowest and the meanest, his impartial,
exhaustless love for the race, his heart of sympathy
and helping hand, his self-abnegation and ready sac-
rifice of himself for the good of others, these all
appealed to the heart and made him the exemplary
and master-teacher of mankind.
Can any one doubt that were the humility, the
freedom from selfishness, the love and sympathy, of
this unique and wonderful teacher, carried into our
schools by the teachers, can any one doubt that
they would speedily work great changes for the bet-
ter? Would students then come out of school so
short-sighted, so engrossed with the vanities of life?
Would they graduate with the self-conceits and shal-
low ambitions now too often characteristic of the col-
lege '^graduate? "
Let me not be misunderstood. It is not urged
that there is not enough ' 'religion" taught in the
schools — not that.
The religious sense is an intuition, an instinct, and
will develop parri passu with the affectional nature.
The religion that is taught is mere superstition, and
bears the fruits of superstition.
But, give us the method and teaching of Jesus in our
schools, and we shall see the fruits, not in temples and
pagodas, not in towering cathedrals, not in the increase
of cloistered Monks, not in the multiplication of rites
and ceremonies, and much ado in matters of religion,
for he favored none of these things. But we shall see
among the educated more beautiful, Christ-like char-
ANTHROPOLOGY. 7I
acters — a diviner morality in private, and social and
public life — a morality that will not fail to flower up
into religion and intelligent worship. Let the aims
and purposes of this Gallilean school of thought — so
different from the Greek — become the aim and pur-
pose of all the processes of education, and we may
hope — and this is the point I make — the time will
come when knowledge and virtue will walk side by
by side, when humility and love will replace ambition
and selfishness, when wisdom more than knowledge
will characterize the graduate, and when the merely
sensuous and perishable shall cease to be the princi-
pal object of life and effort.
We shall then have less occasion to charge disability
and infirmity upon the intellect. The ^^bent to sin-
ning" so noticeable among the affections, affects the
thinking power, and precipitates men into mistakes
and errors, which they would avoid were the passions
properly adjusted and the whole man brought into
normal equipoise. Ignorance is not the evil so much
as mal-adjusted sensibility, to which we must now
turn.
CHAPTER X.
The Higher Nature.
Sensibilities,
And here we enter a realm more maiarious and dis-
ordered, no doubt, than that of the intellect proper.
Plato represents the spiritual powers that consti-
tute man as three souls — a thinking soul, an appe-
titive soul, and a courage soul — the intellect, the
sensibilities, the will.
Elaborating this classification, he sets up their
relative position and importance, in the spiritual
hierarchy, under the figure of a driven chariot, the
thinking soul mounted in the seat, holding the reins,
the other two souls harnessed in as steeds — a figure
which sufficiently indicates the prominence which he
gave to the intellect. And it is especially noticeable
how this fashion of exalting the intellect has prevailed,
and yet prevails, among philosophers and theologians.
* ^Ignorance the evil, knowledge the remedy," has
been a widely accepted dogma since the time of
of Socrates, and may be found in the Old Religions
as a dictum accepted long before his day.
Thought, the offspring of the intellect, is, indeed,
first in the order of precedence, and is instantly
ANTHROPOLOGY. 73
necessary to consciousness; and this may account for
the disproportionate importance attached to the
thinking power by the philosophers. This same ten-
dency to magnify the reason appears in rehgion, as
the age-on-age struggle over creeds and heresies suf-
ficiently proves. The theologian, while attaching
prominence to speculative views, and correct creeds,
has sought rather to exalt the will. He is wont to
say, destroy sensibility, crucify the flesh — the will
reigns and determines destiny. The tendency to
asceticism has been strong in all religions, and it is
the one intent and purpose of asceticism to subordi-
nate sensibility, and even to destroy it from the
soul.
This mad purpose has had its fullest development
in the orthodox Buddhist, who feels it to be his duty
not only to subordinate emotion and passion, but to
overmaster and annihilate all desire, as the condition
of entering into Nirvana.
Here and there a philosopher has united with the
theologian in exalting the will.
M. Pressense praises Main DeBiron for his '^Theory
cf Effort," by which, he says, this philosopher has
introduced * 'liberty into the initial act of knowl-
edge."^ According to Main De Biron, to think is to
will, therefore the being whose existence is revealed
by thought is not simply a reasoning being, as he is
represented in the famous Cartesian motto, cogito,
I. Study of Origins, p. 91.
74 THE NEW RELIGION.
ergo sum, but is primarily a free-acting being in his
initial existence.
It would be difficult to overstate, says Pressense,
the service which Main De Biron has rendered to
philosophy by his ^ ^Theory of Effort," which he him-
self puts into this formula: ^^I will, I act, therefore
I am."i
This conclusion is evidently born of an effort to fix
upon man the entire responsibility of his conduct.
But the theory assumes that to will is a simple psy-
chological process, an assumption which cannot for a
moment be admitted. What imaginable act of the
will is possible without an involved thought and
motive. The formula, I perceive, I feel, therefore I
am, is nearer the truth, as I suppose, than either that
of Des Cartes or of De Biron.
We are unconscious of many of our mental pro-
cesses, as has been so well pointed out by Carpenter,
and the first act of cerebration forcible enough to
spring a distinct feeling, is the one that begins to
awaken consciousness. The thought could not be
known but for the attendant feeling. The thought
and feeling combined give rise to consciousness, and
the rawakened consciousness cognizes all acts and
states of the ego which enlist sensibility and no
more.
Sensibility is the condition precedent and neces-
sary to conscious existence, and any theory either in
I. Ibid., p, 94.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 75
philosophy or religion which subordinates sensibility,
is seriously and fundamentally at fault.
In the order of sequence we have first, indeed,
thought, then sense, then volition; and, if Plato's
driver could keep his seat and hold the reins, it
might do; but we know that, in actual life, passion
dethrones reason, and, seizing the reins, drives the
chariot whithersoever he will, and the will, making
the best of the usurpation, tugs away at the traces.
Who does not know, if he will but reflect, that you
cannot touch human experience at any point without
touching some sensibility; and it is the pride and
boast of true manhood that it is capable of those fine
sympathies and lofty sentiments and aspirations
which ally the soul to the divine, and go to make up
the best type of life in the weakest and in the strong-
est as well.
It is the province of the reason to perceive what is
good, and right, and true; but, if upon such percep-
tion there arise within no appreciation or delight —
no approving or pleasure-giving sentiment — what
significance could we attach to these acts?
^^We could easily imagine," says Mackintosh, '^a
percipient and thinking being, without a capacity for
receiving pleasure or pain. Such a being might per-
ceive what we do; if we could conceive him to rea-
son, he might reason justly, and, if he were to judge
at all, there seems to be no reason why he should not
judge truly; but, what could influence such a being
to will or to act? It seems evident that his exist-
76 THE NEW RELIGION.
ence could only be a state of passive contemplation.
Reason as reason can never be a motive to action.
It is only when we super-add to such a being sensi-
bility, or the capacity of emotion, or sentiment, or
desire or aversion, that we introduce him into the
world of action."^
The spiritual movement is largely independent of
the will. The sight of one suffering, especially if he
is known to be innocent, and rudely imposed on,
excites pity, nolens volens, and what is true of this
form of sensibility is true of others under suitable
conditions. What significance indeed, or what value
could life have, if we except those pleasurable sensa-
tions that constitute happiness.
What shall we say then of Sakya Mounie, of Plato,
of Zeno, and the rest, who regard sense as an
element of disturbance, and a curse! What shall we
say of the thousands and the millions of ascetics who
have sought to quench sensibility as something
antagonistic to spiritual perfection, purity and
happiness!
Giving to the several senses then their due promi-
nence as factors of life, how shall we classify them?
The philosophers are not agreed upon any classifi-
cation—a fact which goes to prove that no mental or
moral science proper exists; for science rests upon
undisputed data.
In the first place, there is no agreement as to the
I. See Haven's Mental Philos., p. 532,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 77
naming or nature or relative rank of the various
forms of sensibility.
And in the second place the various forms are
treated as heterogeneous elements, and classified
without regard to their cognate relations.
The briefest review will verify these statements.
As there is but one source of thought, and all kinds
of thought, wise or foolish, great or small, new or
old, the most eccentric and the craziest, spring from
the same fountain, the intellect; and, as the will is
one, while exercised in every direction and applied to
every conceivable purpose, now driving the victims
of rage to deeds of daring and death, and now execut-
ing the beautiful ministries of love, so also the affec-
tional nature is one. It is a unit and not a medley.
The kaleidoscope, filled with a mass of heterogene-
ous elemental forms, is ready, at every turn of the
instrument, to exhibit new and ever varying figures,
as a kind of chance may determine. But the affec-
tional nature is not a kaleidoscope. The affections
are of kin — belong to the same family, however seem-
ingly different and even antagonistic they may some-
times appear to be. They are homogenous, and take
on different forms and characters only as they are
sprung by different causes and appear under different
conditions.
Under the head of this thought we shall find that
love is the stock and parent sensibility.
But it has never been recognized as such by
philosophers,
78 THE NEW RELIGION.
According to the academicians, the emotions are
included under four principal ones, to- wit: Fear,
desire, joy and grief, and were regarded as generically
different — no recognition of love.
Among the moderns. Hartley divides the sensi-
bilities into grateful and ungrateful.
Since gratitude is clearly one form of love, we may
give Mr. Hartley credit for approaching, at least, a
recognition ot love The English writers, says Mr.
Haven — from whom principally I am condensing this
account — the English writers derive all emotions
from three principal ones, to-wit. Admiration, love
and hatred. Here we have love as one of three
elemental constituents, generically different.
Whewell finds two — love and anger. He
approaches simplicity and recognizes love as dividing
with anger the realm ot sense.
Calderwood finds three — desires, affections,
judgment.
Mahan finds appetites, emotions, affections, desires.
Other classifications could be quoted, but these
may be considered representative, and will suffice.
They show at least that there is no agreement as to
classification. They show that the several forms of
sensibility are regarded as ^^original and distinct ele-
mentary piinciples.'* They are expressly so claimed
by Mahan, and hence there is no recognition of kin-
ship in their nature. They constitute a medley.
They show that there is no agreement as to their
relative rank or degree of prominence in the moral
ANTHROPOLOGY. 79
constitution, and finally they show, and this is our
point, that the passion of love has no adequate recog-
nition as a predominant and governing sensibility in
human nature.
Hartley, Stewart, Upham and Hav^en agree sub-
stantially, in finding malevolence, ingratitude and
hate in the mental constitution; while Mahan admits,
without any attempt at psychological analysis,
a ^ 'moral depravity, in which affection is turned to
hate, by crime in the subject."
It seems positively inexplicable that the greatest
agreement amoi^g these authors should be in holding
the greatest error; especially as they are all Christian
authors, and familiar with the Christian religion; for,
what could be wider of the truth than to suppose that
the all-wise and benevolent Creator placed ^'malevo-
lence/' ''ingratitude" and "hate" in human nature,
as original and distinct elementary principles?
Is man made in the image and likeness of God, a
medley of good and bad elemental constituents,
"original and distinct,'^ so distinct that "neither can
be resolved into another, nor can they all be resolved
into a common principle?"^ The theory is incom-
patible with what we know of the benevolent pur-
poses of the Creator — the order and perfection of his
works.
It remained for Jesus, the divine "Son of Man,'*
who has shed such a flood of light over every field of
I. Mahan.
8o THE NEW RELIGION.
our moral nature, to disclose the true nature of man,
to reveal his moral constitution, which, certainly,
was very differently and very imperfectly understood
by all his predecessors.
At his coming, he was announced as the ^ ^savior"
of men, and as such he must comprehend the depths
from which they were to be rescued.
To save men he must understand and appreciate
their needs, and respond to them. He must bring to
light such a knowledge of their moral condition, and
effect such a readjustment of it as salvation implies.
Accordingly, first among philosophers, and first
among teachers of religion, he taught us that the pre-
dominant and characteristic sensibility of the Father
in heaven is love, and that, as love dominates the
Father, it should dominate his offspring.
Christian, or Infidel, we must acknowledge that the
passion of love has ever played a great role in the
drama of human life.
The child is born and bred under its hallowed bene-
dictions. It crowns and blesses the hymenial altar.
It presides over the home and sweetens all domestic
relations. It is the messenger of sympathy and help
to the suffering and needy. It is the inspiration of
all that is good and noble and true among men. It
sways all hearts and makes the soul akm to God.
All this we know and believe.
Jesus exalted love as no one ever did before him,
as if he regarded it as the prolific fountain whence
flows every virtue — every form of sensibility.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 8l
In accord with this teaching it will be found that a
true psychological analysis will show that the divine
affection is also the human affection, at least when
the soul is holding normal relations with the order of
nature.
It is evident enough that joy and grief and pity and
fear, etc., are derivatives of love. Love existing, we
have only to change the conditions and circumstances
of life and we have any one and every one of the
others. But without love we could have none of
them.
Hate is the very opposite of love, and least likely
to be found having any kinship with it of any that
could be named. And yet, if we will but reflect a
little, we shall see that hate is the product of love as
the shadow is the product of light.
If you love the true, the right, the good, you must hate
the false, the wrong, the evil, and the intensity of the
feeling of hate will be in proportion to the realized
feeling of love. ''Ye that love the Lord hate evil."
There is, according to Solomon, a time to love and a
time to hate, and the old prophet commands us to
*'hate the evil and love the good.' To do so, but
indicates a normal and proper state of the affections.
If you are in warm sympathy with the good, and
an object appeals to your affections which appears to
be good, it will excite your love; and the closer you
come to it, and the more you are interested in it, the
greater will be your love.
Bui, on the other hand, if it should appear to you
82 THE NEW RELIGION.
as mean, wicked, false, corrupt, devilish, it will excite
the same holy feeling, but now it will not appear as
love, but as hate and disgust; and the keener the
sense of good, the keener will be the sense of evil.
Hate is but the reverse side of love. If we could
suppose that one were completely indifferent to both
good and evil, it is plain that then he could feel
neither love nor hate. True hate is but true love,
conditioned by the presence of evil and wrong.
Dr. Calderwood, who seems all at sea in his classi-
fication of the sensibilities, is nevertheless a very
close and critical observer of mental phenomena. He
says:
^ ^Affections take the form of love or hate, according
as the objects of them are esteemed in any sense,
good or bad, and the form of reverence or pity, as
their objects are esteemed superior or inferior in
nature and experience.-'^ Here we have a recogni-
tion of the fact that the transformation of the sensi-
bilities, through external causes and conditions, is
possible. If the affection known as love can become
reverence or pity, and especially if it can become
hate — a form of feeling at the farthest remove from
love — then it may, under suitable conditions, take the
form of any other sensibility.
If you pass a current of electricity through nitrogen
gas, you get a pinkish, purple color^ pass it through
carbonic acid gas, and you get a green color; pass it
T. Handbook Moral Philos., p. 155.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 83
through hydrogen, and you get a violet color; but
pass it through oxygen and you get a peach-blossom
tint. Precisely the same current produces all these
different colors, which thus vary with the conditions
under which they are exhibited.
Thus the parent affection becomes now joy,
delight, or now grief, anger, jealousy or even hate, in
the presence of conditions which give it form and
color; and the so-called '^malevolent passions,'^ con
sidered as '' original and distinct elementary princi-
ples^*^ disappear from the human soul.
If one's love be what it should be, as enjoined in
the great commandment, all its derivatives will be what
they should be, and we shall behold the perfect man
whose end is peace.
So from the heights of will
Life's parting stream descends,
And, as a moment turns its slender rill,
Each widening torrent bends.
From the same cradle's side,
From the same mother's knee,
One, to long darkness and the frozen tide,
The other to the peaceful sea.
—O. IV. Holmes
CHAPTER XI.
The Higher Nature.
The Will,
Of the intellect we have predicated something of
infirmity; of the sensibilities, more. What now of
the will?
Considering man in his normal relations as a crea-
ture of God, what are the functions of the will? If
disease and disorder have affected his volitional
nature, how? What is the proof of it, and what is
the remedy?
Definitions of the will are numerous and various,
but they do not help us to a very clear conception of
the functions of the will proper.
By something like general agreement, the will is
that faculty or capacity of the mind which enables ur
to prefer or choose between two or more object^..
This definition is, perhaps, good enough as far as it
goes, but certainly it is far from complete A full-
blown act of the will is not merely subjective. It
has in it something of objective activity It moves
muscles — does something.
Dr. Haven says, '^the will is but another name for
the executive power of the mind.''
To execute means to carry into effect, but, as the
86 THE NEW RELIGION.
mind*s executive, what does the will carry into effect?
The concept involves an object. What is it?
Dr. Calderwood says:^ ''The will is a power of
control over the other faculties and capacities of our
nature, by which we are enabled to determine per-
sonal activity. "
But evidently the will does not, and cannot control
the other faculties and capacities of our nature. It
cannot stop the processes of thought, nor always hold
them to the desired object. It cannot arrest the flow
of feeling, nor determine its kind. It cannot com-
mand the storm of passion to cease, nor change sor-
row into joy. Both the intellect and the sensibilities,
under circumstances, at least, reject the control of
thej will. Its power to determine personal activity is,
therefore, at least limited.
In common parlance the will is that power which
moves muscles and brings things to pass.
Our consciousness attests the fact that some form
of sensibility — a feeling which is usually known as
desire — precedes every act of the will and constitutes
the motive to action. We desire to have or enjoy
something, and this desire causes us to put forth
efforts to obtain it. Following perception or thought,
there springs up emotion, passion — some form of sen-
sibility, pleasurable or painful — and this begets a
desire with corresponding action. Of this order and
process we are ceitainly conscious. We all love the
I. Handbook Moral Philos., p. 165.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 87
truth. You perceive, we will suppose, a possibility
of discovering some truth. Your love for the truth
begets a desire which prompts to action. Or again,
one acts from a sense of duty. Now, what are the
facts? The intellect or reason perceives what is
right; this awakens in the moral sense — conscience —
a feeling of obligation to go forward. The will
responds to the feeling, and the duty is performed.
Do you say one does not always act from a sense
of duty? The mental process is the same. A per-
ception of possible pleasure — it may be forbidden
pleasure — awakens desire to enjoy and this becomes
a motive to action. The will responds to the desire
and seeks to realize on it.
The illustrations are brief, the thought easy.
It is then, we may now assume, the function of the will
to respond to the claims of the several se7isibiliiies,
including the moral sense, or conscience, of course,
in the order of sensibilities.
But Mr. Haven says — and in this he agrees with
other teachers — ^'We often desire what we do not
will, and 7£//// what we do not desire."
He quotes the following from Reid: ^'A man
athirst has a strong desire to drink, but, for par-
ticular reasons, he determines not to gratify his desire.
A judge, from a regard to justice and the duty of his
office, dooms a criminal to die; from humanity and
particular affection, he desires that he should live.
A man, for health, ma}^ take a nauseous draught for
which he has no desire, but a great aversion."
88 THE NEW RELIGION.
To the same effect he quotes from Locke: ^*A
man whom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use per-
suasion to another, which, at the same time I am
speaking, I may wish may not prevail on him. In
this case it is plain the will and the desire run
counter."
And from Upham he quotes the case of Abraham
offering Isaac, and the case of Brutus sacrificing his
sons.
It seems very remarkable that these distinguished
philosophers did not perceive that, in the cases given,
there is one feeling or desire combating another.
Each one has reasons or motives for doing what he
did, while, at the same moment, he feels the force of
reasons or motives for not doing what he did. A man
athirst has a strong desire to drink. It will quench
his thirst. It will make him feel good — give him a
species of pleasure. These, perhaps, are the particu-
lar reasons that urge him to drink. But he has also
a desire to avoid the consequences of drinking — a
desire to maintain his health and respectability —
these, and other considerations, possibly, stand over
against the appetite for drink, and he determines to
act on the demand of his better nature. It is clearly
a case of thirst for drink against the moral sense — of
appetite against conscience. It is one kind of feeling
against another — a feeling of thirst with its desire on
one side, a feeling of duty with its desire on the
other, and the will, always free to discuss the motives
presented, decides against drinking.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 89
The same is clearly true in the case of the judge,
in the case quoted from Locke, and in the cases of
Abraham and Brutus, from Upham.
The cases are one in their teaching. The case
given by Locke is admirable for its concealed sophis-
try. We have friendship on the one hand, pulling at
the will, and a secret conviction, or sense of right, on
the other, pulling at the will, in a contest that lasts
during the effort to persuade, and friendship gets the
better in the end.
On the very surface of all these cases, there are two
kinds of feeling — one in favor of drinking, one opposed,
one in favor of acquitting, one opposed, one in favor of
taking life, one opposed, and, in all the cases given,
excepting that from Locke, the desire to do the
right prevails. ''Voluntas est quce quod cum ratione
desiderat, ' '
It is the more remarkable that Mr. Haven should
be betrayed into this oversight, since he had already
said: ''Were there no feeling awakened by the intel-
lectual process^ would there be any volition with regard
to the object perceived?''^'^
But, if ^^preponderance of desire" settles the ques-
tion, what becomes of the freedom of the will? The
old question again to the front, '^Liberty** or ^^Neces-
sity," which? Well, both. As to liberty, a Httle.
As to necessity, much.
Brought into the world-life without his consent,
I. Moral Philos., p. 532.
go THE NEW RELIGION.
endowed with forces and tendencies which he cannot
restrain, and appointed to a sphere of activity from
which he cannot escape, man finds himself the sub-
ject of hopes and fears which he cannot suppress.
Whether he takes his being under the scorching
heat of the tropics, in the genial warmth of the tem-
perate zone, or amid the eternal snow and ice of the
arctics, is not a matter of choice, but of fate.
Whether in Christian, heathen, or barbarous lands,
is not choice, but fate. Whether as a giant or a
dwarf, white or colored, whether an angel or an idiot,
it is necessity.
Hunger and thirst come unbidden. Propensity and
passion cry for indulgence and gratification, on pain
of infinite suffering. Thought spins on, the fires of
feeling burn on. Life's stream surges onward, and
death awaits the helpless victim — It is yet necessity.
But you say to this puny victim of necessity, do
something — anything — help a man, or hurt a man,
take this course or that course, and he will say to
you, yes, I will think of it. You must. No, if, upon
examination, I shall please, I will. But I will com-
pel you. No sir, you invade my liberty — you cannot,
I defy you — liberty.
Projected into being you find yourself in a world
abounding with objects,, which stir your sensibilities,
and promise possible gratification. There are many
of these objects — hundreds, thousands of them. You
are a stranger and know little of your position or pos-
sibilities. You know not what will gratify you most.
ANTMROPOLOGV. 9 1
As yet, knowledge has developed no ''preponderant
desire," and you are in doubt. But you are able to
examine. You go through the field, turn things over,
measure and weigh them. You come to believe that
any one of a hundred things would give you pleasure.
But one, or a few excite you most, and you choose,
and act on your choice. The will, true to the law of
its manifestation, responds to the preponderant
desire. If you have been wise and chosen well, you
have entered upon a course of life that will carry you
out into all the beatitudes, and the very winds and
waves will sweep you onward to a glorious destiny.
But if you have been unwise or perverse^ and have
taken the wrong drift, you have entered a course
which will plunge you over cataracts, and into whirl-
pools, and your very liberty has become necessity as
relentless as fate.
In the early dawn of experience — and every day he
is in the early dawn of some experience — man knows
little. A thousand things await his attention, his
study, his choice.
Alas! He does not always come to the examina-
tion unbiased. Through hereditary bias or other causes
he does not see things in their true light, sees things
as too large or too small, estimates things out of pro-
portion to their value as factors of life. He is almost
sure to fall into damaging mistakes and errors. Aye!
under conditions, it is morally certain that he will
choose the worse for the better course, but he makes
his choice, and is conscious of a degree of freedom in
92 THE NEW RELIGION.
doing SO. What awaits him of good or evil will
depend largely Upon the degree in which he has
placed himself in harmony^ or out of harmony with
the moral order of the universe.
In the early morn of your experience and in any
stage of life, you need to go slow, walk circum-
spectly; possibly you will need help, and a great deal of
help which only the Heavenly Father himself can give,
in making up your choices; and this you are free to seek.
If appetite or passion have bound you, and you find
it impossible to resist them, then there is but one
hope left.
A true contrition may break the power of sin, and so
fortify your better nature, under the inspiration of the
Holy Spirit, that your moral sense — your conscience —
may yet assert and maintain authority over incompat-
ible desires, and so give you back to love and to God.
But nothings it is believed, but the ministry of suffer-
ing and of love can save you.
If there were no moral disorder there would be no
conflict of discordant passions, no choices of the worse
for the better part, conscience would be supreme and the
right prevail. But, as we have had occasion more than
once to note, moral disorder prevails. The passions
have become discordant. They sometimes antago-
nize conscience. Singly, or combined in their influ-
ence, they sway the will, and hold the fort against
conscience; but the vice of the proceeding lies in the
sensibilities — in the affectional nature — and not in the
will so called.
ANTHROPOLOGY. 93
The theologian seems disposed to lay all that is
wrong in human conduct at the door of the will.
But, if the will is so supreme, how shall we account
for the facts of history?
Every consideration that reason can suggest is in
favor of doing the right thing — conscience, honor,
happiness, the assurance that the way of the trans-
gressor is hard; and on the other hand everything
warns against the wrong — disgrace, shame, suffering
and general wretchedness; the will is supreme, and
of course the right will be chosen and the wrong
eschewed.
But it is not. Some quenchless thirst or passion
flames up, and for the moment so intensifies desire for
gratification as to sweep the field of other motives,
and carries the will against all the protests of
conscience.
The appetites and passions do not depend upon the
will for their peculiar force, and are not subject to
its control. The stoics were in error. You cannot
quench thirst and passion by a mere act of the will.
The voice of conscience calling the soul to duty is
hushed in the clamor of discordant passions, and life
drifts away to sin and death.
Theologians and legislators have assumed that
because the will is supreme men can be good, and, if
they be not good, they should be punished and made
good. They tell us that sin merits punishment, that
justice requires it shall be inflicted, that men are cor-
rupt, that some are so corrupt if they be not deterred
94 Jlil^ NEW RELIGION.
and restrained by fear of punishment, they will
become intolerable.
This were more a gospel of hate than of goodness;
and there are never wanting those who are ready with
knout and bludgeon to inflict the punishment thought
to be due to justice.
Do you suppose that the criminal deliberately
chooses vice, with its penalty, against virtue, with its
award?
For the moment, under the blinding storm of pas-
sion, and half oblivious of the danger, and hoping,
perhaps, he will in some way escape, he indulges his
passion and realizes a temporary gratification. But
he has not chosen vice on its merits. He has not
chosen crime for the purpose of being a criminal.
The hope of some keen gratification just in sight
leads him on. Conscience, and all the powerful con-
siderations that could easily be adduced in favor of
the right, fall into the background. The coveted
pleasure, exaggerated out of all proportion, stalks to
the front, and he grasps it. And then, when, alas,
too late, dire consequences.
The theologian and the legislator say he is a
rational being, and must be held amenable for what
he does. Justice demands it, and, according to law,
both in church and state, he is punished.
But this one act, or any dozen of them, does not
exhaust the category of his qualities — does not reveal
the man to the depths of his nature, and below there
is something good. Under the given conditions he is
ANTHROPOLOGY. 95
morally certain to make foolish choices over and over.
The degree of his guilt, for current action, is meas-
ured by the part he has taken in establishing these con-
ditions; but be this great or small, he is not to be
punished by any human tribunal for it.
The assumed right to punish is a usurpation.
It is very true, indeed, that men are capable of
becoming ^^desperately wicked." There seems to
be, in certain cases, hardly any limit to the subsi-
dence of the moral sense — hardly any to the suprem-
acy of devilish passion. We know too well that men
become outrageous — intolerable; but, for several
reasons, you cannot punish them.
How much, would you say, should a given crime
be punished? Say overreaching in business, or theft,
or adultery, or murder?
No moral philosopher or casuist has attempted to
say, because he knows not, and cannot know. You
know neither how to proceed, nor how far to proceed
with your punishment. No individual, and no state,
for the state is but the aggregate of individual life,
is competent to punish crime in the criminal. ^^Ven-
geance is mine, and I will repay, saith the Lord.*'
Such means as may be found needful to protect
society, will no doubt take the color of punishment,
and may subserve the purposes of justice, but they
are not to originate in a spirit of offended justice,
and intent of retribution, but rather in the need and
intent of self protection; and should always be tern-
96 THE NEW RELIGION.
pered with pity that any poor fellow-mortal could
have been so misguided and unfortunate.
It has been observed that some wills seem *'weak/'
and some '^strong.'* The great Napoleon, and others,
for that matter, have been credited with having ^^iron
wills.'* I know of no attempt to explain these phe-
nomena on psychological principles. That they are
significant, and demand the attention of the moral
philosopher, will be admitted.
The views set forth in these pages furnish at least
something of an explanation.
Amid the disorder and misdirection that prevail in
the appetitive and affectional phases of human nature,
the will yet performs its work as the exponent of life's
combined and complex forces. Because the appe-
tites and passions are not properly co-ordinated, the
functions of the will are often embarrassed.
If the discordant sensibilities could be brought
into habitual subordination to conscience, as they
were clearly intended to be, there would be no failure,
on the part of the will, to act promptly, and there
could be no such thing as a ^'weak will.'* A strong
will means such a co-ordination and concord of the
sensibilities as will give a united and steady support
to the ruling desire; while a weak will means such a
mutual conflict and antagonism of the diverse emotions
and desires, as to result in an unstable condition of the
volitional status — a condition in which the least
added motive will throw the balance of power to the
clainis of appetite or those passions^ or haply to
ANTHROPOLOGY. 97
the claims of the moral sense, making them, for the
time, available. Clear conceptions and accordant
sensibilities make the strong will, but discordant sen-
sibilities make the weak will. The will, however,
remains the same responsive executive power, only
less embarrassed in its volitions in the one case, and
more embarrassed in the other.
We fail to find, therefore, that the Will, considered
as one of the powers of man's higher nature, is so
seriously at fault as current theories make it. It is
no fault of the will that it cannot control the affec-
tions and make life perfect. Emotions and desires,
which constitute the motives to action, spring from
antecedent thoughts — from ideals presented by the
imagination independently of the will, but they never
fail to make their claims upon it as the one power
which alone can secure them gratification.
Let us, in conclusion, grant, however, that the
damage and danger of sin might have been kept more
in sight, that the attention might have been held more
steadily and strongly to the incentives to right living,
and that the obligations to duty might have been
more warmly cherished and faithfully discharged;
and, because these things were not done, when they
could have been done, men often become helpless in
the toils of sin, and are doomed to measureless suf-
fering and woe.
Let us not exculpate the will-power from all par-
ticipation in the infirmity of human nature. But, let
reason do her part, and let the appetites and affections
gS THE NEW RELIGION.
be subdued to the rule of conscience, and we may
not despair of the will. The remedies, if such are to
be found, which will sufficiently inform the reason,
and properly readjust and regulate the affections, will
leave little to be done to make man perfect.
To fortify the moral sense, to strengthen the con-
victions of duty, to intensify the feelings of obliga-
tion, to so enshrine the ideal right, and good, and
true, as to make the power and pull of conscience
upon the will good against the pull and power of
incompatible desires, — this is the desideratum.
It remains to be considered in future pages whether
such a consummation is possible, and if possible, by
what agencies and instrumentalities it is to be
achieved. Can the fibre of resolution be nerved to
such a mastery of tendency and temptation as to
enable one, v\^ith possible divine help, to live life
through, ever obedient to the purposes of the lovicg
Ail-Father? We shall see.
It must be so, Plato — thou reasonest well,
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
Or, whence this secret dread and inward horror
Of falHng into naught? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
CHAPTER XIL
The Life Immortal.
If, in the foregoing discussion, any doubt has been
raised as to the essential immortahty of the Higher
Life, let us hasten to dispel it.
Every one knows, or at least believes, that he him-
self is something different and distinct from his own
physical organism. One limb after another could be
cut away without consciously affecting the ego.
We cannot predicate of the physical organism the
attributes of the spirit.
Thought and feeling do not spring from mere mat-
ter, however highly organized. This is frankly con-
ceded by all scientists. Though the mind seems to
grow with the bodily structure, and sometimes to
decline with it, exhibiting its greatest powers at the
period of its greatest maturity, it may be demon-
strated that this arises from the more perfect and
better adaptability of the instrument to its purpose.
The best artist cannot display his skill through an
imperfect instrument, and it does not follow that
when the instrument becomes useless the artist has
ceased to exist.
A Kashmirian girl, it is said, will detect 300 shades
of color, where the Lyonaise notices but one — so
I02 THE NEW RELIGION.
much depends upon the degree of perfection of the
instrument employed.
^'Whatever analogy/' says Dr. Alexander Wilder,
^^may be maintained between the development of the
psychic faculties, and the growth of the body, it does
not, by any means, follow from such correspondence,
that the soul did not exist prior to the bodily life, or
that it ceases to exist upon the extinction of that life.
Those who affect to doubt, or to deny, or to be
unable to know, the existence of an immortal princi-
ple in man, miserably fail to account for the higher
experiences of human life, and sadly limit human
hope. In the issue they have made between philoso-
phy and nihilism, we have the chance offered us to
look upward to God as our Father, or to wander from
nowhere to nowhither — from the primordial chaos to
the eternal abyss, loosing ourselves among molecules
of material substances, with nothing whatever to
appease any longing of the spirit. '^
Huxley candidly admits that ''when we appropriate
all knowji chemical forces, we are yet at an enormous
distance from that which constitutes life;" and Tyn-
dall says, ''if a right-hand spiral spring movement of
the particles of the brain could be shown to occur in
love, and a left-hand movement in hate, we should be
as far off as ever from understanding the connection
of this physical matter, with this spiritual manifesta-
tion." (Frag. Science, p. 120.)
The ablest scientists agree in admitting that, if you
make up your compounds from all the ascertainable
ANTHROPOLOGY. I03
molecular activities, you involve nothing that will
account for the weaving of the complex tissues of the
living organism; and how infinitely will you fall
short, then, of accounting for will power, for thought,
for love and conscience, without predicating an
indwelling spirit — super-material existence.
Bain has suggested that matter '^is a double-faced
somewhat," having a spiritual and a physical side,
and he has had, in this at least, a respectable follow-
ing. But this forlorn effort to set up a man without
a soul, breaks down on the threshold — can the same
molecule be active and non-active, extensible and
non-extensible, ponderable and non-ponderable? The
involved implication is unthinkable.
Huxley, and all the great authorities in biological
science for that matter, admit that life is the cause of
organization, and not organization the cause of life.
Just what they mean by life, does not plainly appear;
but whatever it may be, if it exist before organization
as a cause, it may exist after it as a cause-produc-
ing energy. It is certainly plain enough that organi-
zation does not begin all, since there must have been
that which began the organization, and, if it do not
begin all, how can it end all?
To account for human experience, we must postu-
late an indwelling ego endowed with attributes that
cannot be predicated of any form of organized matter.
And this ego is so imminent, pervasive and out-
going that the human organism hardly limits it.
Every one is sensitive to the contiguity of bodies
104 THE NEW RELIGION.
when groping in the dark. If we close our eyes and
withdraw ourselves as much as possible from external
disturbing influences, we easily see and feel, or rather
realize what no sense gives us. It is said that Miss
Fancher, of Brooklyn, when in her room, blind and
paralyzed, would tell who was at the door of the
house, and the routes which individuals were taking
in the streets.
Swedenborg, we are told, had periods of trance, or
apparent dying, in which his interior self was thought
to be absent from the body, and in company with
spiritual beings; and the great apostle to the Gentiles
was once rapt into the third heavens, and declared he
did not know whether he was in or out of the body.
If, then, the lower sensuous self fills up the meas-
ure of its life, and dies, the higher self, distinct and
independent of its physical organism, may not be
involved with it in the disaster of dissolving nature.
The psychic man, with his power to perceive, to
conceive, to reflect, to compare, infer, and to retain
in memory, with his power to appreciate the beauti-
ful, the true, the good, is capable of exploring all
lands, and sailing all seas, and tasting all joys. His
endowments qualify him for spirit relationship, and
ally him to spirit existence, and make him an aggres-
sive actor in the realm of spirit-life.
A man, even in this time-and-space-world, is not at
his best when gratifying his sensuous nature. When
thought is ranging over wide fields, when sentimen,
is quaffing her nectar at all fountains, and the will is
ANTHROPOLOGY. IO5
gathering her fruits in all climes — then man is at his
best.
The psychic life is unlike the mundane life, in that
the latter fulfills its purposes and completes the cycle
of its being in the present state, while the former has
but entered upon a sphere of activity and cycle of
being which is not and cannot be rounded up and
closed in the present state.
'Tis not all of life to live,
Nor all of death to die.
1. The attributes or powers which characterize the
spiritual ego, if we except the will, are not dependent
upon or limited by the physical organism for their
activity and manifestation — they are purely spiritual
— subjective.
The will is usually defined as the power of choosing
or making a choice; and in this sense it, too, is purely
subjective and unlimited by time and space relations.
If the real ego is thus so above and independent of
material conditions, and in all her activities and out-
goings, we need not fear that any changes that take
place in the realm of the physical will prove disas-
trous to the spirit-life.
2. We have said that the sphere of man's activi-
ties is not rounded up and completed in the present
state of being. This is apparent on every hand.
(a) He has capacities for knowledge which spurn the
limitations of time. When death comes to the oldest,
he has not half exhausted his powers to acquire and
to know more. He is always cut down before he has
Io6 1HE NEW RELIGION.
worked out and finished his problem. He loves
knowledge, and drinks with glad joy at its fountains,
but drinking does not lessen his thirst. It rather
increases it and inspires him with greater zeal in its
pursuit, and leads him to hope for larger gratifica-
tion. Give him loo years, and he has but fairly
begun to explore the enchanting fields that stretch
away into the illimitable future, and with what
quenchless yearning does he desire to go forward.
(b) What is true of his thought life is true of his
affectional life. Here he gets, now and then, a
glimpse of the truly beautiful, and he instantly feels
that ^'a. thing of beauty is a joy forever. '^
But he is never sated, never has enough. As his
knowledge extends and enlarges his vision, he sees
more and enjoys more. Give him loo years and he
still yearns for deeper draughts of this ^^joy forever,"
of which he knows he has had, in the present state,
but a taste.
(c) Take love and friendship. What a heaven
they open up in the soul. How they bless the home
and society and the world. How they sweeten all
life's pleasures. One hundred 3^ears of life fly away
— have love and friendship grown old and wan? Have
they lost their power to charm and to bless? Do
they sate you? Can you believe that at the end of
of your loo 3^ears, you will have done with them? that
they will no longer be gracious and inspiring? A
dear and cherished friend is taken away. Do you
follow him to the grave and then willingly let him
ANTHROPOLOGY. IO7
vanish into nothing? Have your friendship an^^ your
love also died? Or, rather, have they not already
overleaped the barriers of time and gone to the
immortal blessed?
(d) Take sympathy — fellow-feeling — which is
indeed but another form of love. How sweet and
beautiful and inspiring! Will it be less at the end of
100 years? Does it seem adapted only to a world
where it is so checked and hindered by mistake and
ingratitude? Could love, in all its forms, think you,
find blessed ministries and fruition in the sun-bright
clime
"Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest?"
(e) We talk of the ^ -feast of reason" and ^^flow of
soul." The simile is a bad one. A feast is followed
by satiety, and even nausea and disgust, if pushed
too far. But the so-called feast of reason never palls
upon the palate. You bless the glad moment when
it begins. You could wish it might never end. Is it
possible, think 3^ou, only in this world, where com-
plete congeniality is a rare exotic, where greed and
selfishness are always engendering bitterness and
hate, and spoiling all such feasts?
As you drop out of your experience, more and
more, the things that are of the ^^earth-earthy," and
as you rise, more and more, into the things that are
of the spirit-spiritual, how about the blessedness of
these feasts of reason, say in the poet's ^^Land of
Beulah?"
I08 THE NEW RELIGION.
Are they suited more to the real earth or the real
heaven?
Buddhism to the contrary notwithstanding, a state
of conscious-sentiment-throbbing-activity, is infi-
nitety preferable to a state of unconscious rest. The
difference is the difference between being and non-
being.
We have had occasion to criticise the accepted
definition of will, as a mere faculty or power of
choice, in that, a preference or choice is but a condi-
tion precedent to volition proper. A mere prefer-
ence ends with itself, and does not bring things to
pass, whereas a full-fledged volition employs means
and moves things. In the present state, this moving
things — bringing things to pass — is a difficult, much
embarrassed labor; and to the extent that volition
involves this labor, it is weighed down and hindered
by the physical.
But, emancipated from this weighing and hinder-
ance, it would execute and bring things to pass with
the facility and rapidity of thought itself.
It would seem quite clear, then, that the sphere of
the will's best activity lies more appropriately in the
future and unembarrassed spiritual realm, than in the
present physical realm.
3. But in connection with these beginnings of the
Higher Life, and as demanding their continuous devel-
opment, let us note that:
The Creator works by wholes, and not by halves or
fractions,
ANTHROPOLOGY. 1 09
It is characteristic of the divine purpose and wis-
dom to complete things. The seasons come and go,
each in its appointed time — spring, summer, autumn,
winter. Each fulfills its mission and passes. In the
minute germ of the acorn we have the potency of the
oak complete. The tree does not produce its fruit in
halves.
Insect and animal life repeats itself, more or less
quickly, but with substantial fidelity, through all
their millions and myriads. The dove that flew from
the ark of Noah, is the dove that sits and coos at
your window. Each had its sphere of activity — its
rounded life.
The world-life of man himself fulfills its functions
and ends. Could he be reborn, all his appetites and
propensities would repeat themselves to the hun-
dredth generation. The animal organism is a won-
drous microcosm. Within it are hundreds of appoint-
ments, bones, muscles, nerves, organs, appetites,
tastes, emotions, passions, each havmg its part to
play, and each playing it part through to the end.
There is nothing essentially wanting, nothing in essen-
tial excess in all this co.nplex of wholes.
In the disorder and infirmity that prevail, affecting
both the lower and the higher nature, we do indeed
observe some deficiencies, some excesses; but these
are clearly not in essence. They are not included in
the ideal being. They are to be corrected. They do
not inhere in the essence and nature of the human
constitution,
no THE NEW RELIGION.
In the wide domain of nature there is nothing for-
tuitous, nothing left to chance. There are no breaks
nor disjoints. Everything is rounded up to comple-
tion— has its mission and its goal.
But we have just seen that, as to man's higher life,
the sphere of his possible activities is in no sense com-
pleted in the present state. His knowledge is not
complete. His affections have just awakened to con-
scious activity. His will struggles in its fetters, and
only waits for death to strike them off. On this high
plane of being everything needs wider range and
larger opportunity. Everything stretches away into the
illimitable future for such range and such opportunity.
But, if death indeed end all, then what mean these
inevitable, ghastly fractions of spiritual life? If
death end all, why was the soul endowed with such
powers of conscious adaptation to an endless future?
If death end all, the power or capacity to acquire
knowledge, to love the good and true, are cut down
in their very spring-time — the joy of knowledge, the
joy of love and sympathy are blasted in the bud.
It cannot be. All the analogies are against it.
The divine wisdom and benevolence displayed else-
where in nature, are against it. God works by wholes.
He rounds up and finishes things, and the sphere of
the higher life must be a whole; it ca^inot be a fraction.
But a fraction it would be, and a very infinitismal
cne, too, if death end all.
•'Know, all know, know infidels, unapt to know,
Tis immortality your nature solves."
ANTHROPOLOGY. Ill
3. But there is another consideration of interest
touching this subject.
The all-bountiful, benevolent Creator responds to
all hungering and thirsting, to all legitimate desire
and yearning.
And why not? Would it be a reasonable and right
thing to do to implant appetites and passions, to
beget hungerings and thirstings which could not be
appeased? The eternal God is good, he would not do
this. He is said to be love itself — that is, love is his
dominant characteristic, his governing motive. But
love could not sanction such an exercise of creative
power.
Hunger is a keen sense of want and yearning for
food. Is not food provided in kind, and supplied in
abundance?
The beneficient Creator, who gave hunger, also
gave food.
Thirst — how it cries for water! He who gave thirst
also gave water to quench it.
Did not he who gave the eye give it light?
The blood coursing through every vein, and throb-
bing in every artery, needs instant and continuous
purification. It must have oxygen, on pain of speedy
strangulation and death. Behold an ocean of atmos-
pheric air yielding the needed momentary supply,
through highly wrought and delicate instrumentali-
ties, and sustained for 100 years, without the anxiety
of a moment or the trouble of a thought on the part
the creature.
112 THE NEW RELIGION.
So constant is the response to urgent need and
yearning, in all nature, that the evolutionist has found
in the need itself, the provision for supply. The
mole, born to live in the dark, needs no eyes, and has
none. The eye speedily adjusts itself to more light,
and to less, according to its needs. The stalwart
elephant, built solidly up from the ground, needed a
flexible proboscis with which he could collect his food
from below and above, and in the process of evolu-
tion a proboscis appears. The kingfisher needs a
peculiar bill and neck and other adjustments to
enable him to procure his food from beneath the
water's surface, and nature responds with the needed
outfit; and so on, throughout all realms of life, physi-
cal and spiritual. The yearning spirit presides over
and directs the building bioplast, determines the
make-up and completes the adaptation to the envi-
ronment and prepares for the exigencies of life.
Without being able to follow the evolutionist to his
conclusion, we must grant that supply responds to
need with so much regularity and certainty that it
may be relied on as a law of nature, or a law of God,
as you may please to put it.
This law is so well established in every domain of
nature that, if you should realize an abiding legiti-
mate want and desire for anything, you may feel sure
that somehow, somewhere, the thing so desired will
be forthcoming — that, whether you know it or not,
the provision for appeasing such desire and want has
already been made by the all-bountiful Creator.
ANTHROPOLOGY. I 1 3
All men yearn for continued life. And this yearn-
ing is persistent and intense.
The love of life is the strongest passion of the
human soul. Whether life is ^ 'worth living" or not,
as some have questioned, it is clung to with instinct-
ive, uncontrollable desire. To avoid death any sane
man would quickly give up every other conceivable
good. Every possible good is less to him than life,
without which there could be no personal good. If
death, then, is to end all, why this quenchless yearn-
ing for continued life?
''The day-old infant goes straight to the breast
where its nourishment lies. The panting roe hunts
the water-brook. Even the sunflower turns to the
sun. Are they deceived? A deeper impulse draws
us. Shall we, of all things living, follow to find but
a phantom — a fountain without water, a breast with-
out nourishment, a sun without beams, a mirage of
of illusive promise?"^
There is not a sentiment of man's nobler nature,
whether it be the joy of being, the love of knowledge,
the love of the good, the pleasure of friendship and
the high pleasures of love itself, as manifested in the
thankfulness and gratitude — not a capacity or power
which, in its aspirations, does not overleap the limits
of the world-life. A wider range and larger oppor-
tunity, more light, and a less embarrassing environ-
ment— how imperatively needed, if anything worthy of
J. Bishop R, L. Foster.
114 THE NEW RELIGION.
his great powers is to be achieved. The wider realms
of spirit-life stretch away into the illimitable, and every
thinking soul yearns with inesxpressible desire to go
forward to the higher passibifities wJiich await and wel-
come his coming. Shall fruition be denied him?
Have we found an exception to the law that reigns in
all realms? Is this, the most impassioned cry of
want, not to be heard? Is man, the noblest concep-
tion of the All-Father, to come but to the birth and
die?
It cannot be. The eternal law of God and nature
is against it. Give us the life immortal and all 's
perfect, all harmony — all means are suited to all ends.
Human life is a benediction and a heaven possible.
As a matter of fact, all men have assumed the
immortality of man. Without it, half his instincts
and aspirations would be an inexplicable riddle. It
is in all the philosophies, in all the religions, Egyp-
tian, Brahmin, Buddhist, Roman, Greek, Judaic and
Christian. There can be nowhere found a philo-
sophical tenet or religious doctrine so generally
accepted. And its disproof, were it possible, would
fall as a pall of despair upon the race.
The conviction that the soul cannot die, though for
the most part untaught, is so general that it must be
regarded as an instinct — an intuition, as if the benevo-
lent Creator had fixed this assurance in his children,
to encourage and sustain them amid the breaks
and disappointments of the present state, and enable
them to trust in a better state of being, to which all
ANTHROPOLOGY. 1 1 5
questions of right and justice may be referred for
final adjustment.
In view of such considerations, nothing, perhaps,
could add to the strength of our convictions on this
subject, except possibly an actual and properly
authenticated resurrection from the dead. In the
face of dissolving nature, and the ubiquitous reign of
death, under which men live, it seems yet possi'Ble
for men to doubt and shrink back. In the world* s
history there have been few, probably, who could not
have been helped by ocular demonstration of the
fact of a resurrection.
If the claims of Christianity be granted — if tlie
Evangelists have told us a true story, this demonstra-
tion has been made. Jesus, the Christ, we are
assured, actually raised Lazarus and others from the
dead. He himself, ^^a son of man," was crucified,
dead, and buried. His resurrection from the dead,
so well attested in the face of doubt and determined
opposition, demonstrated to visual sense and per-
sonal consciousness, the fact that death does not end
all, that it did not, at least, in his case. The Roman
soldier was pitted against the angel, but was no
match for him. The son of man ''led captivity
captive."
*'He burst the bars of death,
And triumphant rose."
I go, he said, in the tropical phrase of the East, to
prepare a place for you. I am brother to you all. I
Jl6 THE NEW RELIGION.
ascend, as you shall hereafter understand jnore per-
fectly, to my Father and to your Father, to my God
and to your God.
Death does not end all. Man cannot be holden of
death.
"The dewdrop slips into the shining sea."
— Light of Asia.
PART II.
THE OLD RELIGIONS.
CHAPTER XIII.
Historical Justice,
It IS a great error to suppose there is nothing good
to be found in the Old Religions — that the ^ ^heathen/'
whose degradation we so commiserate, are utterly
vicious and corrupt.
They have been believed to be '^judicially damned/ ^^
and the theory that they cannot be saved from the
horrors of an endless hell, without a knowledge of
Christ, and faith in his atoning blood, has been the
inspiration of the self-sacrificing missionary since the
Council of Nice in the fourth century. Are not men
saved by faith in Christ, and ''how can they believe
on him of whom they have not heard?'*
The fact that under the moral and religious cultus
ot the Egyptians, the Indians, and especially the
Greeks and Romans, men made great progress in the
I. Watson's Theological Institutes.
Il8 THE NEW RELIGION.
arts and sciences, and civilization, before the dawn-
ing of the Christian dispensation, is almost wholly
ignored by very many of the votaries of the New
Religion; and the truly pitiable condition of the
lower and more ignorant classes of heathens, is taken
as the exponent of all so-called heathenism and
paganism.
A strange fatuity, it would seem, must affect men
who can shut their eyes against the evidences of their
high culture in philosophy, in government, in lan-
guage, in art and science.
Their philosophical theories, their codes of morals,
and their religions, respectively, give ample proof
that the old masters of thought were profoundly sen-
sible, as we yet are,* of the manifold imperfections of
men, and they diligently sought how they might best
be helped and saved.
That profound scholar and philosopher. Max
Mueller says:
^'No judge, if he had before him the worst of crimi-
nals, would treat him as most historians and theolo-
gians have treated the (old) religions of the world.
Every act in the lives of their founders, which
shows they were but men, is eagerly seized and
judged without mercy. Every doctrine that is not
carefully guarded, is interpreted in the worst sense
that it will bear. Every act of worship that differs
from our own way of serving God, is held up to ridi-
cule and contempt; and this is not done by accident,
but with a set purpose. * * * The result has been *
THE OLD RELIGIONS. II9
a complete miscarriage of justice, an utter misappre-
hension of the real character and purpose of the ancient
religions of mankind; and, as a necessary conse-
quence, a failure in discovering the peculiar features
which really distinguish Christianity from all the
religions of the world, and secure to its founder his
his own peculiar place in the history of the world —
far away from Vasishtha, Zoroaster and Buddha, —
from Moses and Mohammed, from Confucius and
Laotz. * * There are people who, from mere igno-
rance of the ancient religions of mankind, have
adopted a doctrine more unchristian than any that
could be found in the pages of the religious books of
antiquity — namely, that all the nations of the earth,
before the rise of Christianity, were mere outcasts,
forsaken and forgotten of their Father in heaven,
without a knowledge of God, without a hope of
heaven/'
^^If we believe,-' he continues, ^^that there is a
God, and that he created heaven and earth, and that
he rules the earth by his unceasing providence, we
cannot believe that millions of human beings, all
created like ourselves, in the image of God, were, in
their time of ignorance, so utterly abandoned that
their whole religion was a falsehood, their whole wor-
ship a farce, their whole life a mockery."^
The conspicuous error of Christian people has been
the assumption that heathens and pagans are so
I. Science of Religion, p. 102.
I20 THE NEW RELIGION.
utterly depraved and corrupt, that all improvement,
without the aid of the Christian Gospel, is impossible.
The Virtue of Knowledge,
We have had occasion already to note how the
intellectual powers have, all through the ages, been
exalted and overestimated as factors of human
experience; and, in accord with this persistent mis-
conception, the efforts put forth for bettering human
life were directed by the early masters, chiefly as
they are even yet, to the cultivation of the intellectual
powers.
The theory that makes ignorance the cause or
source of all vice, has had long and wide acceptance.
Socrates and Zeno emphasized this doctrine, but it
was taught by the Egyptians, and became a tenet of
Brahminism long before these great masters were
born.
Socrates, especially, and with great force of argu-
ment, insisted that if men did but know what is
right, they would gladly do it. Often they know but
imperfectly, if at all, what is right — more frequently
they have considered neither the good that must
spring from right-doing, nor the evil that must come
from wrong-doing, in their respective and ever-widen-
ing results; for, if they could see all and know all,
there then would be found every motive for the one,
and no motive for the other. Men prefer the right
when they see it clearly in its beauty and blessedness
— in its hallowed and far-reaching consequences, and
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 121
seeing it thus, they would be held to the practice of
virtue as the needle tc the pole.
On the other hand, if men were even indifferent to
the right, but could yet see and comprehend the
wrong in its repulsiveness and dire consequences, it
must fill them with aversion and horror, and effectu-
ally prevent them from either practicing it, or con-
senting to it. In deciding as to what is right and
wrong in human conduct, one is not to simply follow
custom and prescription. What accords with truth
and justice — this, one's own moral sense sanctions as
right, and hence, to determine the right, one must
appeal to reason and his consciousness of the right,
and follow his convictions.
This is substantially and briefly the argument of
the great philosopher.
On this theory, of course, the ethical requirement
is to educate, and by all possible means to enlighten
men as to what is right in human conduct, and all this
ado about ^ Sprayer" and ^ 'faith, "about moral sentiment
and religious obligation, is a waste of energy, and
is fitly characterized as ''zeal without knowledge."
"If the child of a king," says Menu, "is exposed,
and brought up as an outcast, he is an outcast. But,
as soon as a friend tells him who he is, he not only
knows himself to be a prince, but he is a prince, and
succeeds to the throne of his father" — he had lost
his place and right as a prince through ignorance, he
has recovered them through knowledge.*
* Ten Great Religions, Vol. 2, p. 178.
122 THE NEW RELIGION.
'^Goodness," says the same authority, '^is disclosed
to be true knowledge. * * Let every Brahmin
consider with fixed attention all nature, both visible
and invisible, as existing in the divine spirit, for
when he contemplates the boundless universe exist-
ing in the divine spirit, he cannot give his heart to
iniquity."^
This exaggerated estimate of the ethical value of
knowledge is discernable even in the history of the
Christian church, where we should least expect to
find it, as appears in the importance attached to
creeds and forms of belief, and especially in the per-
secutions for error or heresy, which have so disgraced
the cause of Christianit}^
In the order of sequence, and as a matter of fact,
knowledge must precede sentiment. But some-
how the sentiment or attendant feeling is, often, out
of all proportion with the inherent value of the
object conceived or known — the knowledge, for
instance, of how one may attain wealth or office or
honorable distinction, will give rise to a tempest of
feeling, and call forth efforts out of all proportion
with the value of the thing sought.
Did everything give rise to so much, and only so
much feeling as is right and proper in itself — as it
would, in a state of ideal perfection — then this theory
of the supremacy of knowledge would probably hold
true in its ethical relations.
I. Anthology, p. 8i.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 23
But when there is a predisposition, arising from
whatever cause, and accounted for as it may be, to this
irregular, erratic manifestation of sensibility — such
as we know to exist in the present state of being,
ignorance is not the whole evil, nor is knowledge the
whole remedy.
The thought of getting gain ought to excite a rea-
sonable effort to acquire it, but in some cases —
they are very few, it is true — it scarcely moves a
muscle, while in others — and these cases are very
numerous — it explodes an inordinate passion, and
precipitates all the forces of life upon an object alto-
gether unworthy.
There are some defects in the present constitution
and life of man which no amount or kind of knowledge
can remedy. The reason can only reach to and
restrain the appetites and passions through the moral
sense, or conscience, and the will. To do the right
in any given case, the moral sense must hold the will
against all antagonistic appetites and passions. The
authority of conscience, enforcing the antecedent
judgment of the reason, must reign supreme. This it
cannot, or, at least, does not always do.
The passion for money alone outweighs, in many
cases, all that reason can throw into the scales on the
side of conscience. Avarice and ambition may com-
bine to influence the will against the claims of the
moral sense. The pleasures of the banquet, the
desire of elegant ease — otium cum digiiitate^ — the fasci-
nations of dress and love of display may unite with
124 THE NEW RELIGION.
avarice to hold the citadel of the soul against reason
and conscience; or, the sexual passion may kindle the
lurid flames of devouring lust, or the insatiate thirst
for strong drink, or some other intoxicant, too often
avails to intensify the appetite with unquenchable,
over-mastering hunger. What then? Will any kind
or amount of knowledge appease the morbid appe-
tite, or quench the fires of lust?
It must be noted that in many of these cases the
wrong on the one side, and the right on the other,
are patent and well understood by the parties to the
practice. They know that nothing but a very short-
lived gratification can come from doing wrong, that
harm and evil must come of it, that to do the right
thing would be much the best thing for them in the
end, and yet, the grip of passion upon the will is
maintained.
''Video meliora proboque
Deleteriora seguar.'' — Ovid.
So far, indeed, is knowledge from serving as an
infallible check upon vice, that it too readily lends its
power to the cause of vice against virtue, and becomes
a wily abettor of crime by opening up new fields of
forbidden pleasure, and aiding the criminal in his
dexterous villainy.
What the Brahmin prince needed under his con-
ditions, and in his particular emergency, was the
knowledge that he was born a prince; but note, the
wayward soul needs more than the knowledge of a
fact that can be communicated. He needs a read-
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 25
justment of his moral nature. He needs a rehabili-
tated conscience. He needs love re-enthroned among
the affections, and it does not appear that any amount
or kind of knowledge would be a remedy. Some-
thing to fortify the conscience, something to redis-
tribute and redirect the moral forces, if such a thing
be possible — this is what he needs. The salvation of
the prince was a small matter as compared with the
salvation needed to bring men to ideal perfection.
It must not be questioned, however, that the right
kind of moral teaching, especially in the plastic
periods of childhood and youth, is of the utmost
importance, as an aid to virtue. There is doubtless
a sense in which ^^virtue can be taught." A clear
knowledge of the truth touching the obligations
incumbent in all the relations of life may have the
effect to fortify conscience to develop the better
nature, to guard against vice, however powerless it
may seem in certain cases; and this is the kind of
knowledge upon which Socrates, in common with all
the old masters, relied, and the general correctness
of their ethical teaching cannot be questioned.
The Egyptian Code of Morals,
^^We are not obliged," said Renouf, ^^to believe
that this or that man possessed all the virtues ascribed
to him, but we cannot resist the conviction that thq
recognized Egyptian code of morality was a very
noble and refined one;" and, in confirmation of this,
he adds: ^'The translators of the bible and the early
126 THE NEW RELIGION.
Christian literature, who were so often compelled to
retain Greek words for which they could find no suita-
ble equivalent, found the native Egyptian vocabulary
amply sufficient for the expression of the most deli-
cate notions of Christian ethics.'*
^'None of the Christian virtues," says Chabas,
*^are forgotten in the Egyptian code — piety, gentle-
ness, charity, self-command in word and action,
benevolence toward the humble, chastity, the protec-
tion of the weak, deference to superiors, respect for
property in its minutest details, all expressed in
extremely good language. '^^
^^We are acquainted with several collections of pre-
cepts and maxims in the conduct of life. Such are
the maxims of Ptahotep, * the instruction of
Amenemhat and the maxims of Oni. * * The
most venerable of them is the work of Ptahotep,
which dates from the age of the pyramids, and yet
appeals to the authority of the ancients. It is
undoubtedly, le plus Ancien libre de Monde — the most
ancient book of the world.
^^The manuscript at Paris which contains it, was
written centuries before the Hebrew language was
born. The author of the work lived in the reign of
Ossa-Talkara, and the fourth dynasty. The books
are similar in character and tone to the book of
Proverbs in our bible. They include the study of
wisdom, the duty to parents and superiors, respect for
property, the advantages of charitableness, peace-
I. Ten Great Religions, part 2, p. 309.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 27
ableness of conduct, of liberality, of humanity, chas-
tity and sobriety, of truthfulness and justice. And
they show the wickedness and folly of disobedience
and strife, of arrogance and pride, of slothfulness,
intemperance, unchastity and other vices. *'^
Some of the ancient nations of India, though
widely separated from the Egyptians in place and
time and character, were not wanting in teachers of
good intelligence and high moral culture.
The Brahmin Code,
This code of morals was very elaborate and specific
in its requirements.
'^A wise man must faithfully discharge all his
moral duties, even though he does not constantly
perform the ceremonies of religion/' which was in
fact quite another thing. ^*He will fall very low if
he performs ceremonial acts only, and fails to dis-
charge his moral duties."^
Among the duties named in this code are, con-
tentment, returning good for evil, resistance to sen-
sual appetites, abstinence from illicit gain, purifica-
tion, control of the senses, knowledge of the sacred
writings, veracity and freedom from anger. ^^Let
a man continually take pleasure in truth, in justice,
in purity. Let him keep in subjection his speech,
his arm, his appetite. Wealth and pleasures repug-
nant to law let him shun — even lawful pleasures which
1. Renouf, in Hibbert Lect., 1879.
2. Anthology, p 3.
128 THE NEW RELIGION.
may cause future pain, or be offensive to mankind.
Let him not have nimble fingers, restless feet or
voluble eyes. Let him not be crooked in his ways,
nor flippant in his speech, nor intelligent in doing
mischief. Let him walk in the paths of good men."^*
The Buddhist Code,
This is not less specific and elaborate.
Buddhism was a revolt against the system of caste
so persistently taught and relentlessly practiced by
the Brahmins. But these two systems are closely
allied, in their moral teaching, if we except the sub-
ject of caste.
Let us note the following as indicating, in the
briefest way, the wide range of their moral precepts,
and the infinite details of their ethical teaching.
There are three sins of the body: i. Murder;
2, Theft; 3, Impiety.
I. Ibid, p. 7.
* There are twelve books of Menu.
The first reveals a cosmogony, or generation of the world.
The second and third regulate education and marriage.
The fourth treats of economics and morals.
The fifth treats of diet, purification and women.
The sixth treats of devotion.
The seventh of government and the military class.
The eighth of private and criminal laws.
The ninth treats of the commercial and servile classes.
The tenth of mixed classes, and gives direction for their duties.
The eleventh treats of penance and expiation.
The twelfth of transmigration and final beatitude. — Oriental
Religions, p. 179.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 29
There are four sins of speech: i, Lying: 2, Slan-
der; 3, Abuse; 4, Unprofitable Conversation.
There are three sins of the mind: i, Covetousness;
2, Malice; 3, Skepticism.
'There are also five other evils to be avoided:
1, Drinking intoxicating liquors; 2, Gambling; 3, Idle-
ness; 4, Improper Associates; 5, Frequenting places
of Amusement.^
^*There are difficult things in the world, '^ said
Buddha, *^^Being rich and great, to be religious; being
poor, to be charitable; to escape destiny; to repress
I. Ten Great Religions, Vol. 2, p. 403.
* Buddha gave five precepts for all men: i, Not to kill;
2, Not to steal; 3, Not to commit adultery; 4, Not to lie; 5, Not
to be drunken.
Five for professed disciples: i, To abstain from food out of
season; 2, From dances and music; 3, From personal ornaments
and perfumes; 4, From soft and luxurious couches; 5, From
money.
To those farther advanced in the religious life he enjoined
twelve ordinances: i, To wear only rags cast away by men of
the world; 2, To wear only of these rags sufficient to serve as a
short skirt, a night shirt and a cape; 3, Of these to wear the cape
only on one shoulder; 4, To live only on alms; 5, to take only
one meal a day; 6, And that before noon; 7, To live in solitary
places, and only to enter a town to ask alms; 8, To take no shel-
ter except the foliage of trees; 9, To take rest at the foot of a tree;
ID, To sleep the, back against the tree without lying down;
II, Not to mov^i the carpet from place to place; 12, And to medi-
tate nightly among the tombs on the transitoriness of aU human
things. — Baring Gould, Religious Beliefs, p. 340,
130 THE NEW RELIGION.
lust and regulate desire; to see an agreeable object,
and not desire to obtain it; to be strong without
being rash; to bear insult without anger; to move in
the world without setting the heart on it; to investi-
gate a matter to the bottom; not to contemn the
ignorant; thoroughly to extirpate self-esteem; to be
good, and, at the same time, learned and clever; to
see the hidden principle in the possession of religion;
to attain one's end without exultation; to exhibit, in
a right way, the doctrine of expediency; to be the
same in heart and life, and to avoid controversy."^
Other Codes.
Confucius, the Chinese law-giver, whose precepts
have had a more distinct and wider acceptance than
those of any other teacher, had many just views on
the relations and conduct of life.
Being asked, ^^Is there not one word which may
serve as a rule for one's whole life?" he replied: ^'Is
not reciprocity such a word?"
^'What you do not wish done to yourself, do not to
others. When you are laboring for others let it be
with the same zeal as if it were for yourself."
He constantly emphasized the duty of humility,
and no master ever so succeeded in enforcing the
duty of filial obedience as did he, — so closely did he
approach to the best precepts of Christianity.
In Greece and Rome, as elsewhere in the ancient
world, morality and religion are different things.
I. Anthropology, p. 171.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I3I
The Romanes religious duties were prescribed for
him with the greatest exactness, and to the last detail
— what God he was to worship, in what way, with
what words. All this was definitely settled by ancient
tradition.
In these particulars, too, he was excessively
punctillious; whereas he was entirely unconcerned as
to the state of his soul. He was deemed most religious
who best knew the ritual, and most exactly observed it.^
All are familiar with the teaching of the Greek and
Roman masters — Socrates, Plato, Zeno, Seneca,
Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius, and many others, to
which the founder of Christianity could add little more
in the way of moral precept than the sanction of his
great authority and the inspiration of his spotless life.
Thus it is. The wide range of thought in the vari-
ous fields of duty, traversed by these ancient worthies,
living 400 to 1,000 years, or even more, before the
Christian era, and the intelligent views expressed,
leave us little to claim as modern in the sphere of
practical ethics.
But, after all, it must be admitted we have looked
on the bright side of this picture. These glittering
gems of moral science have been dug up, and washed
out, from an immense mass of repulsive crudities, and
absurd, not to say disgusting, superstitions.
The masses of men in all countries, and in all the
world' s history, have had little conception of the higher
life and possibilities of human nature. In the world's
I. Ullman Conf. Chris, and Heathenism.
132 THE NEW RELIGION.
wide waste there stands here and there a solitary
mountain stretching itself toward heaven; its tower-
ing summit has caught the gleam and glitter of the
stars. The moon sheds her pale light upon it, and
the coming day touches it with more resplendent
hues, while around its deep, broad base there reign
night and desolation. Scattered throughout the
ancient world there are to be found a few of stronger
vision and larger power— the sons of God. They
stand above the wide-spread plain and waste of
humanity. They have caught the light and felt the
inspiration which never comes to those below. They
have called down to the multitude to follow them, but
called in vain. Around these Himalayas there
reign darkness and desolation; and so it would seem
they must yet long reign.
It is something wonderful that men who have
attained to such heights of true knowledge — to such
delicate appreciation of social and moral obligation —
could yet suffer themselves to be weighted down with
so much that seems to us absurd and degrading, and
that their confessedly wise teaching should prove to
be so powerless to uplift and save the masses. But
this is human nature. If we go into those countries
that have long been under the exclusive cultus of the
Greek and Roman so-called Christian churches, we
shall find ignorance and superstition and corruption
scarcely less repulsive and degrading than those of
pagan and heathen lands.
One lesson seems to be plainly taught. It is, that
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 33
education, the diffusion of knowledge, including the
best moral precepts, is inadequate to save men. It
cannot avail to reform and save the masses of men
from vice and wretchedness.
There is a conscious sense of want in men that
appeals from what mere moral teaching cannot
accomplish, for the saving of the soul, to a higher
power — a power that can awaken conscience and
readjust the affections. It is an appeal from reason
to sentiment, from science to religion.
Confucius was the greatest mere moral, non-relig-
ious teacher the world ever produced. His success
was extraordinary — phenomenal; and the result is
peculiarly instructive, as illustrating the impotency of
mere moral prece|)ts to uplift and reform men. His
followers, through the ages, have failed to exhibit
that resilliancy of spirit, that energy of thought and
character which are the invariable con-comitants, at
least, if not the cause of the best phases of human
progress.
Something of this want of energy and discursive
activity must, no doubt, be ascribed to the debilitat-
ing influences of a tropical climate and unfavorable
surroundings. But these are no worse upon them
than upon other peoples of the Orient, and yet, more
than any other nation, the Chinese seem to have
reached the limits of possible progress, without fun-
damental changes in their modes of thought and cult-
ure. They have been wanting in the inspirations of
an uplifting religion. Their moral instincts have
134 "^^^ ^^^ RELIGION.
taken too low a trend. They have been wanting in
enthusiasm.
In the absence of a Divine Being, the source of all
blessing, and proper object of worship, his disciples,
when death and distance of time had lent their
enchantment, fell down and worshiped their great
master; or, driven by a more decidedly religious
instinct, they have strayed away to become Tauists
or semi-Buddhists.
CHAPTER XIV.
Religion Proper,
And now, having had a glimpse of the ancient
theories of culture and methods of moral discipline,
as proposed and practiced by the early masters of
thought, let us look a little more closely into their
religions with a view of ascertaining how perfectly or
imperfectly they respond to the legitimate needs of
men, and their value as reformatory and uplifting
agencies.
Religion is necessary to a complete character.
The religious bias or trend is an intuition, and relig-
ion in some form, develops among all peoples. Its
germ is born with men, and when properly developed
it lifts the soul into fellowship with the spirits above,
and with God.
The first thing that impresses one upon looking
back upon the Old Religions is their vastness and
complexity — their immense capacities for good or evil.
Behold their varied and manifold prescriptions for
the religious life! Behold their rites and ceremonies,
the sacrifices they required — the immolations and the
self-denials!
Behold the huge temples they builded — the shrines
they consecrated.
136 THE NEW RELIGION.
Their divinities stand visaged upon mountain and
stream, in wood and lawn, and what a role did they
play in all the drama of that ancient life!
As enlightened Christians we are accustomed to
think of religion being inseparably connected with
morality. But the votaries of religion do not always
act on this hypothesis.
Morals relate to the duties of man to man, and to
society.
Religion relates to God and the destiny of the soul
in the hereafter.
In the ante Christian cultus, more especially out-
side of Egypt and Persia, morality is one thing and
religion quite another.
We shall fail to comprehend and properly estimate
the Old Religions if we lose sight of this fact.
In the religions of Greece and Rome this separa-
tion between religion and morality was carried so far
that the inculcation of morality at last devolved
avowedly and exclusively upon the philosophers,
while the priests were wholly occupied with the duties
of religion."^
The time has not long gone since there were to be
found votaries even of the Christian religion, who
made this distinction and held this view. Their argu-
ment was brief, but conclusive — ^^A man uncon-
verted," they said, ^ ^without religion, is corrupt — a
child of the devil." In this state, nolens volens, he
I. Leckey Hist. Rat., Vol. i, p. 311.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 37
plays into the hands of the wicked one. The more
decently and morally he lives the greater will be his
influence in favor of morality and against religion;
and the more effectually, therefore, will he serve the
devil and prevent the spread of religion and the sal-
vation of men. I have myself frequently heard this
argument made from the pulpit. But happily in the
more enlightened Christian countries the time for
such preposterous teaching is past.
Prayer and worship are the staple constituents of
all religions and are as universally prevalent among
men as the religious instinct, and the sense of sin and
ill desert.
But, in the Old Religions, what is prayer, and
what is worship?
The Egyptian,
Behold, all these living, growing, changing things,
how wonderful! Whence did they come? They had
a cause — a maker, where is he? He must be some-
where back of and beyond them. To find him, to
know him, I must look into these things, and through
them. How else shall I ever know him? Behold the
opening bud, the expanding flower, the climbing
arbutus, so beautiful and inspiring; behold the leopard
and the cat, so winsome and agile; behold the crawl-
ing reptile gliding about in the dark depths, and
holding perpetual vigils in the deep; how curious all
and wonderful — inviting study ! Ah, yes — ' tis through
these visible things we must look if we would find the
138 THE NEW RELIGION.
eternal — through nature up to nature's God — Thus
the Egyptian.
What then is the Egyptian's prayer and worship
but an effort to commune with God, through these
visible expressions of himself? Do we marvel to
behold the votary of religion paying his devotions to
these visible representatives of the Eternal.
*^Do not think," says the Egyptian priest, ''we
worship animals. Each of them is a symbol — a
representative of a divine thought of the Creator; we
reverence the Creator in his works. We do not make
statues in the likeness of God. We take the crea-
tures of his hand, as signifying his character. It is to
avoid idolatry, — to avoid making anything in the
image of God, that we place these creatures in
shrine."
''Such," says the author of "Ten Great Religions,"
"was the religion of the Egyptians during thousands
of years running back into the darkness of prehistoric
times."
This statement of Mr. Clarke must be received
cicm grane salts. While it is probable that the reli-
gion of that early people had some such origin as
above indicated, it can hardly be denied that in its
practical working — whatever it may have been in theory,
among a very few of the most intelligent — it bordered
closely upon mere Fetichism.
These visible aids to worship, yet so common and
even popular in some quarters, have always proved
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 39
to be futile and worse than useless as a standing
means of worship.
Whether among pagans or in the Christian churches,
the ordinary worshiper cannot habitually look up
through visible symbols to the invisible spirit — cannot
rise ^^through nature up to nature's God.'* The
prayer familiarly and repeatedly addressed to the
cat or the tortoise by the Egyptian, or to the picture
of Mary by the Roman Catholic, hardly passes
beyond it, and tends to degrade rather than to elevate
the worshiper.
The Persian,
The Persian seems to have made closer observa-
tion of the distinction between good and evil and was
more profoundly impressed by it. The two — good
and evil, are everywhere to be found arrayed against
each other, waging war.
Now victory perches upon the banner of one, then
upon that of the other. They are so universally and
constantly in this relation of conflict with each other,
and on a scale of such magnitude, extending through
all realms, there must be divinity in them. Beyond
the visible, both of good and evil, there must be
eternal powers — Behold Ormuzd and Ahriman!
By the very imminence of these mighty spirits, the
life of the Persian was intoned to a keen and constant
sense of danger. The conflict was ever on, and no
moment would admit a truce.
The religious duties of the Parsee were accord-
140 THE NEW RELIGION.
ingly many, and imperative. Baring Gould gives
them as follows: Reading the law, prayer and sacri-
fice. By prayer he guarded himself from the attacks
of Ahriman, the principle of evil, and his attendant
spirits.
Prayer was made on rising from sleep and on going
to bed, on eating and sneezing, on cutting his hair
and paring his nails, on kindling sticks and lighting a
lamp.^ The prayer of the votary was directed to
good and merciful Ormuzd, to save him from the
wiles and the power of the wicked Ahriman.
If we go still farther Eastward, we shall find other
peculiarities of religion.
The Aryans.
The Aryans of India were remarkable for their
pensive moods, and their spiritual development.
They seemed to stand lightly upon terra firma.
Their thoughts readily took wing and soared away
into realms of spirit. The battle of actual life was
distasteful — repugnant to them, its conquests thor-
oughly unsatisfying.
Matter is the very essence of corruption. Every-
thing touching it is tainted and needs purification.
Thought was free to mount and fly, but only thought.
All else how ^ ^cribbed and cabined." All is gross,
groveling. Behold the beasts of the field. They eat
and drink and care not. They care not for honor or
I. Origin of Beliefs, p. 220.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I4I
dishonor, for fame or shame. And behold man is a
very beast, feeds like him, sleeps and wakes like him.
The lofty Aryan is mortified and disgusted. Yoked
with matter in a living organism, he 3^earns for liberty
and for purity. Could this world, with its incessant
and bitter strifes, its manifest disorders and its rigid
limitations, be his home? Alas, he feels it to be his
prison.
And what is this physical organism that makes him
so like a beast — what, but a body of death? And
whence these illicit desires and vile passions?
They appear in the beast — at best they indicate a low
and mean nature — they must be extinguished. The
better self must be lifted out of this grossness. O
thou noble, high-born Aryan, dost thou know whither
thou art tending?
No people ever evinced such habitual disregard of
temporal things, of business and worldly thrift. No
people ever staked so much on religion. Behold
Brahminism and Buddhism and Tauism, for they are
all of one root and stem, and differ only in their
foliage, and but little in their fruit.
It will aid us in our inquiries as to the reformatory
efficiency of these several forms of religion if we take
note of their prayers and ceremonial worship. The
Brahmin, like the worshiper of Osirib, prayed through
symbols, at least in part, but less than the Egyptian
did he stick and stop in the symbol.
These Orientals were profoundly and thoroughly
religious. They built temples and pagodas and con-
^
142 THE NEW RELIGION.
secrated shrines innumerable. All streams and lakes
and pools were held sacred. The great Ganges the
most sacred of all. Annually, or oftener, multitudes
make toilsome journeys to their great temples for
protracted prayer and worship.
As the Divinity is localized the worshiper must be
present on the spot. The prayers are prescribed
forms of thought, committed to memory and repeated,
the oftener the better; but, without the accommo-
dating expedient of a ^ ^Rosary," I believe, which the
Roman Catholic finds so convenient and necessary.
The service usually is merely perfunctory, and
might be turned off from a machine.^
Dr. Butler, in his '^Land of the Vedas," pages 26
to 28, gives us a specimen morning service of one
well advanced in religious culture, which I quote sub-
stantially, as illustrative of the trend and scope of the
Brahmin's religion: ^^The worshiper may bathe in
any water from a well, but preferably from a running
stream, and best of all in the Ganges or other sacred
stream if the Ganges be beyond his reach, saying,
^O Gunga, hear my prayers; for my sake be included
in this small quantity of water.'
I. An enterprising Llama worshiper comprehending this,
invented his Tchu-kor, a kind of barrel turning on ."ts axis, and
written all over with prayers, which he set going co turn off
prayers for his benefit, while, Yankee-like, he went in pursuit of
more lucrative business. But surely no true Brahmin, nor
Buddhist, nor disciple of the weird Laotze, could have displayed
such greed for this world.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I43
^^Then, standing in the water, he must hallow his
intended performance by the inaudible recitation of
sacred texts.
. '^Next, sipping water, and spurting some before
him, he is to throw water eight times upon the crown
of his head, on the earth, and toward the sky; then
again toward the sky, on the earth, upon the crown
of his head, and lastly on the ground to destoy the
demons who wage war with the God — all the time he
must be reciting these prayers, ^O waters, since ye
afford delight, grant us present happiness and the
rapturous sight of the Supreme Being. Like tender
mothers make us partakers of your most auspicious
essence, with which ye satisfy the universe — O
waters, grant it to us.'
^'Immediately after this first ablution, he sips
water without swallowing it, silently praying. He
then plunges three times into the water, each time
repeating the prescribed expiatory texts. He then
meditates in the deepest silence. During this
moment of intense devotion he is striving to realize
that Brahma, with four faces and a red complexion,
resides in his bosom. Vishnu, with four arms and a
black complexion, in his heart, and Shiva, with five
faces and a white complexion, in his forehead!
''To this sublime meditation succeeds a suppression
of the breath, performed thus: Closing the left nos-
tril with the two long fingers of his right hand, he
draws his breath through the right nostril, and then,
closing this nostril with his thumb, be holds his
144 THE NEW RELIGION.
breath while he repeats to himself the Gayatri^ and
other texts. Last of all he raises both fingers off the
left nostril and emits the breath he had suppressed
through the right.
*^The process being repeated three times, he next
makes three ablutions with this prayer:
<As he who bathes is cleansed from all foulness, as
an ablution is sanctified by holy grass, so may this
water purify me from sin.'
^'He then fills the palm of his hand with water and,
presenting it to his nose, inhales the fluid by one nostril,
and, retaining it for a while, exhales it through the other
and throws the water away to the northeast quarter.^
^'He then concludes by sipping water with this
prayer: ^Water,thou dost penetrate all beings; thou dost
reach the deep recesses of the mountains; thou art the
mouth of the universe; thou art sacrifice; thou art the
mystic word ^Vasha;' thou art light, taste and the immor-
tal fluid, ' and concludes by worshiping the rising sun. ^ '^
1. The Gayatri is regarded as the most sacred verse of the
Vedas. It is as follows: "Let us adore the supremacy of that
Divine Sun — the Deity, who illuminates all, from whom all pro-
ceed, are renovated, to whom all must return; whom we invok§
to direct our intellects in our progress toward his holy seat."
2. This for internal ablution which washes away sin. — Ibid,
3. The law of Menu adjudges the manner in which the Brah-.
min is to eat, drink, clothe himself, relieve his bowels, wash his
feet, cut his hair, and even perform the most secret functions,
It designates with precision the hours of rising and going to rest.
It tells what precautions to take for his personal safety. It
enumerates the rights and duties peculiar to each caste and each
divi§iQo of cc^ste, — Bmn^ Gould, Religious Beliefs, p. 206,
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I45
It is not difficult to, discover that in this service the
votary is burdened with a sense of impurity and sin.
His ablutions symbolize and express what he feels
he needs to have done for his spiritual nature. As a
result of this purifying process he expects to obtain
relief from his burden.
^^O waters, since ye afford delight, grant us present
happiness, and the rapturous sight of the Supreme
Being. ^ Make us partakers of your most auspicious
essence, with which ye satisfy the universe. i'
Shall we say that such a service, however it may
differ in its conduct, is less availing than that of the
Christian votary, when their respective objects are so
near of kin? That he never finds the blessing he
seeks?
After working one's wa}^ through the deep jungle
of absurd ritual, and dogma, and superstitious cere-
mony, whose object is half concealed by masses of
symbols and tropes and Oriental imagery, it is refresh-
ing, upon emerging, to find rising out of all prayers
such as these:
^^May that soul of mine which mounts aloft in my
waking and my sleeping hours, an ethereal spark
from the light of lights, be united by devout medita-
tion, with the spirit supremely blest and supremely
intelligent!
'^May that soul of mine, the guide by which the
I. It was believed that the Yogi — those who had made the
highest attainments in religion, could literally see the Diving
Spirit.
146 THE NEW RELIGION.
lowly perform their menial work, and the wise, versed
in science, worship — that soul which is the primal
oblation within all creatures, be united by devout
meditation with the spirit supremely blest and
supremely intelligent!
^^May that soul of mine, which is a ray of perfect
wisdom, pure intellect and permanent existence,
the inextinguishable light set in mortal bodies, with-
out which no good act is performed, be united, by
devout meditation, with the spirit supremely blest
and supremely intelligent!
^'May that soul of mine, in whose eternal essence
is comprised whatever has passed, is present, or will
be hereafter, be united, by devout meditation, with
the spirit supremely blest and supremely intelligent!
^^May that soul of mine, which, distributed also
through others, guides mankind, as the charioteer
guides his steeds — the soul fixed in my breast,
exernpt from old age, swift in its course, be united,
by divine meditation, with the spirit supremely blest
and supremely intelligent!"^
The following beautiful Brahmin burial service
throws light upon their great and complex system of
religion:
^^O Earth! to thee we commend our brother. Of
thee he was formed. By thee he was sustained, and
unto thee he now returns.
'^O Fire! thou hadst a claim in our brother during
I, Anthology, p- 103.
tHE OLD kELIGlONS. I47
life. He subsisted by thy influence in nature. To
thee we commit his body, thou emblem of purity.
May his spirit be purified on entering a new state
existence.
'^O Air! while the breath of life continued, our
brother respired thee. His last breath is now
departed. To thee we yield him.
^^O Water! thou didst contribute to the life of our
brother. Thou wert one of his sustaining elements.
His remains are now dispersed. Receive thy share
of him who has now taken an everlasting flight!"^
The service outlined by Dr. Butler only hints at
the range and character of the Oriental religious life
— its spirit, its elaborate ritual, its numerous cere-
monies, often seemingly very superstitious and
absurd, but always spiritual and world-forgetting.
We shall get a better conception of these great relig-
ions of the Orient, considered as agencies for bettering
the conditions of mankind, if we note even briefly their
ascetic tendencies and requirements. How much
soever we moderns may be inclined to think that the
requirements and enjoyments of religion are consis-
tent with successful business, with domestic and
social pleasure, and adapted to make the present life
happy, we must not expect to find such views held
by Brahmin and Buddhist.
Their modes of thought, their institutions, their
environment, and of course their religious cultus, are
profoundly different.
I. Anthology, by Conway, p. 420.
CHAPTER XV.
Asceticism,
However wisely or unwisely, this ancient cultus
looks not so much to the needs of the present life as
to those of the larger life beyond, to which the
present is but an introduction.
If the happiness of the present brief life is incom-
patible with that of the future and eternal life, it
were, indeed, the greatest folly to sacrifice the latter
to the former.
To attain an eternity of repose and blessing, at the
expense and loss of all that can be conceived to be
good in this life, which so hastens to its close, would
be wise. Something of this view, it would seem,
underlies the life of the ascetic. Asceticism is the
offspring of the philosophico-religious views incul-
cated by the old masters as to the nature and effect
of matter in its organic relations with the human
spirit. Matter fetters and debases; it is corrupting,
and defiles the soul. Emotions and passions which
have their root in the physical organism are destruc-
tive of true happiness. Desire must be subdued,
according to Buddha completely annihilated. To
purge away the dross and defilement of matter, and
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I49
break the power of the sensuous Hfe, is the thing to
be accomplished.
'^A man endued with a purified intellect, having
humbled his spirit by resolution; who hath freed him-
self from passion and dislike; who worshipeth with
discrimination, eateth with moderation, and is lowly
of speech, of body, and of mind, and who preferreth
the devotion of meditation and who constantly placeth
his confidence in dispassion, who is freed from osten-
tation, tyrannic strength, vain glory, lust, anger and
avarice, and who is exempt from selfishness and in all
things temperate, is formed for union with God. * *
It is to be obtained by resolution, by the man who
knoweth his own mind, wheresover the unsteady
mind roameth, he should subdue i"- bring it back and
place it in his own breast."^
If the Divine Being be conceived of as anthropo-
morphic, as in Greece and Rome, there is really no
great change needed to bring the votary into har-
mony and likeness with the object of his worship.
Accordingly among the Greeks and Romans we find
no expressed need of such change, no disavowal of
existing manhood, no claim that a regeneration of
life and character is necessary to harmony with the
celestials, and per consequence, no conversion, no
asceticism. If, however, the Divine Spirit be con-
ceived of as a pure spirit, above all sensibility, and
ineffably pure and holy, the case is very different.
I. Anthol. p. 58, et seq.
150 • THE NEW RELIGION.
To bring a willful, sinning, vice-smitten, sensuous
mortal into likeness and harmony with such an exalted
being, great changes must be wrought in him. And
this is the deep conviction of the consciously imper-
fect soul. This, say, the old masters, must be done.
The deliverance of the spirit must be effected. And,
with this line thrown out to religious fanaticism, what
may we not expect in the way of extremes, from relig-
ious zealots? What has been the result? We have
self-denial and penance ^^gone mad."
Human nature has made no more humiliating and
pitiful exhibition of itself than that recorded in
the history of Asceticism, Religious convictions lie
so deep in man's nature, and so overshadow and con-
trol all mere world considerations that they often
drive men into revolting extremes of folly.
Behold the excesses and horrors of religious wars
and religious persecutions!
To get a proper conception of Asceticism as prac-
ticed by the Brahmins and other Orientals, we must
look a little into the organization of their social and
religious life. It was not altogether a voluntary and
sporadic development of the religious nature.
Four stages of life are marked out by Menu, the
great Brahmanic law-giver:
1. The Brahmachari, or student's life of the Veda.
2. The Grishastha, or married life stage.
3. The Hermit life period.
4. The Sannyassi, or Devotee period.
Passing the first and second of these periods, in
THE OLD RELIGIONS. t^t
which no great amount of self-torture was required,
let us notice the third and fourth.
In the third, or Hermit stage, such a course of dis-
cipline as will mortify the passions and extinguish
desire, is the desideratum.
'^When one has remained a Grishastha — in the
married stage of life — until his muscles become flac-
cid, and his hair gray, and he has seen a child of his
child, let him abandon his household, and repair to
the forest and dwell there as a hermit.
^^Let him take with him the consecrated fire, and all
the implements for making oblations to the fire, and
there dwell in the forest with perfect control over all
his organs.
^'Day by day he should perform the five
sacraments."
He should wear a black antelope's hide, or a vest-
ure of black, and bathe every morning and evening.
He should allow his nails and the hair of his head
and beard to grow without cutting, and he should be
constantly engaged in reading the Veda.
He should be patient in all extremities, universally
benevolent and entertain a tender affection for all liv-
ing creatures.
His mind should be ever intent upon the Supreme
Being.
He should slide backward and forward, or stand a
whole day upon tiptoe, or continue in motion by
alternately rising and sitting; but every day, at sun-
152 THE NEW RELIGION.
rise, at noon, and at sunset, he should go to the
waters and bathe.
In the hot season he should sit exposed to five fires,
viz., four blazing around him, while the sun burns
above him.
In the raining season he should stand uncovered
without a mantle, while the clouds pour down their
heaviest showers.
In the cold season he should wear damp vesture.
He should increase the austerity of his devotions
by degrees until, by enduring harsher and harsher
mortifications, he has dried up his bodily frame. ^
When he has thus lived in the forest during the
third portion of his life as a Vanaprastha, he should,
for the fourth portion of it, become a Sannyassi, and
abandon all sensual affections, and repose wholly in
the Supreme Spirit.
He should take an earthen water-pot, dwell at the
roots of large trees, wear coarse vesture, abide in
total solitude, and exhibit a perfect equanimity toward
all creatures.
He should wish for neither death nor life, but
expect his appointed time as a hired servant expects
his wages.
He should look down as he advances his step, lest
he should touch anything impure.
He should drink water that has been purified by
I. Code iv. 22; Vishnu Purana iii. g, etc. Substantially as
given by Dr. Butler. Land of the Vedas, pp. 35 and 36.
THE OLt) RELIGIONS. X53
straining through a cloth, lest he should hurt an
insect.
He should bear a reproachable spirit with patience.
Speak reproachfully to no one, never utter a word
relating to vain, illusory things, delight in meditating
upon the Supreme Spirit, and sit fixed in such medi-
tation without needing anything earthly, without one
sensual desire, and without any companion but his
own soul; and much more to the same general effect.^
In all this. Buddhism substantially followed Brah-
minism. Even the Buddha himself was the subject
of innumerable mortifying births ere asceticism had
wrought its perfect work.
Under such a cultus the wildest fanaticism of course
had free play.
Great importance was attached, by these Old Mas-
ters, to meditation, in which they were zealously fol-
lowed by Plato. To go into profound solitude, and
indulge in protracted, intense, absorbing contempla-
tion, was the supplementary and final means of
attaining Nirwana — the condition of eternal repose.
It was needful that they should reflect upon the
transmigrations of men, caused by their sinful deeds,
their downfall into the regions of darkness, their tor-
ments in the mansions of Yama, their separation
from those whom they love, their union with those
whom they hate, upon their strength being over-
powered by old age, their bodies racked with disease,
Ibid.
154 '^^^ ^^W RELIGION.
their agonizing departure from this corporeal fram^,
their formation again in the womb, on the misery
attached to embodied spirits from a violation of their
duties, and the imperishable bliss which attaches to
disembodied spirits, who have '^abundantly performed
their whole duty.''
Starting with asceticism thus formulated and
organized, we have it in full chorus of horror in all
the Orient.
Baring Gould, in his Origin of Beliefs,^ says,
''On the borders of the Ganges the Yogin strives by
every exaggeration of torture to emancipate his soul
and confound it with God.
''Yogins swarming with vermin, covered with dirt,
mixing filth with their food, running skewers through
their cheeks, suspending themselves by hooks thrust
into their flesh, standing on one foot for many
years, lying for half a lifetime upon sharp nails,
strive, by withdrawing their affections from things
here below, to fix them with greater intensity on the
Divinity above."
It were easy to fill pages with the horrors of asceti-
cism as practiced in Orient.
Dr. Butler says there are 2,000,000 of these Yogin
and Mohammedan Fakirs in India.
But as a second result of this system of asceticism
we have self-righteousness and pride gone mad.
It must not be forgotten that these penances were
I. Page 362.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 155
considered meritorious. The devotee becomes more
pure and holy in proportion as he pushes his self-sac-
rifices to extremes, and in this fact lies the persistent
strength and popularity of the system. The pious
ascetic, under the reign, possibly, of a pure selfishness,
sets up a claim to superior sanctity — a claim which
he knows will be respected — and becomes the most
haughty and supercilious of mortals. He has merited
support, deference, adoration. He has disarmed
criticism, risen above censure, and attained divine
power, and must be respected even by the lower
divinities.
"Supreme he stood
The merit of his sacrifice
Was a monsoon flood.
His good deeds numberless."
— deeds, whose ^^merit" was so great as to compel
gods ^^who fain would shed his heart's red blood," to
bless them. Is it strange that under the combined
impulses of religion and selfish ambition, thousands,
age after age, should fall into line and swarm into
the forests?
It may be said indeed that this is an abuse and not
the proper use of the system; and this, in candor,
ought to be admitted; but, given human nature as it
is, it can hardly be denied that it is an abuse which is
inseparable from its use.
What, then, must be the verdict as to the reforma-
tory efficiency and uplifting virtue of asceticism, con-
sidered in its means and methods? Does it make the
156 THE NEW RELIGION.
individual happier, or society better, or final beatitude
more certain?
That there is advantage in occasionally retiring from
the hurly burly and excitements of society, into soli-
tude, and spending an hour in self-examination and
contemplation, we should freely admit and do believe.
One can hardly dwell upon the shifting vicissitudes
of this world-life, and the inevitable results of vice and
virtue in human conduct, without coming into closer
sympathy with that which is good and true in human
life. To ardently cherish an ideal character, to hold
in mind the symbols of goodness and perfection, and
cherish with prayerful yearning the better life, can
hardly fail to fortify resolution and give new zest and
vitality to all virtuous and worthy purposes.
That such devout and prolonged contemplation and
aspiration, as Menu enjoined upon the Sannyassi, and
Plato prescribed for his philosophers, connect with
great spiritual possibilities can hardly be doubted; and
we hasten to accord this meed of virtue to asceticism.
But, just how this murderous self-denial and self-immo-
lation, thus systematically enjoined and practiced, can
promote human happiness in this state of being or in
any state of being is not easy to see.
In the first place asceticism is, at the bottom, but
another form of selfishness. The ascetic does all, and
suffers all, for his own ultimate benefit. He cherishes
no philanthropy, feels no benevolence, contemplates
n^ help for others, however needy.
5q far from it, he does great wrong to those who are
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I57
dependent upon him, and who have a right to look to
him for aid aad comfort. The Grishastha, or ^^House-
holder/' may ^^see the child of his child" at forty to
forty-five, and while yet in the prime and strength of his
manhood, and when he could provide for his depend-
ent family and render important services to society.
His wife and children, abandoned by him, may be
quite unable to provide against hunger and want.
Every consideration of love and justice requires that
he should stay with them and help them. But not so,
he must become a ^ ^hermit;" he abandons them to
their fate! — becomes a mendicant, and henceforth
ceases to be a producer and lives off public charity; he
turns a deaf ear to the cries of his orphaned children
and bereaved and possibly destitute wife, to become a
miserable and selfish Anchorite, under pretence of
gaining what? — beatitude for himself!
But beyond the fact of its being essentially selfish in
its purpose, asceticism evidently antagonizes the
whole order of nature. It is a pure assumption that
matter corrupts the spirit.
What do we mean by corruption as applied to
spirit? We cannot mean guiltiness, certainly, for
there are innocent spirits in organic union with matter.
Children begin life in a state of innocence. Guilt can-
not be predicated until intentional sin has been com-
mitted. Do we mean necessitated limitations of
thought? imperfect appreciation of the good?
This condition of disability can hardly be called one
pf impunity, It is a bad use of terms, But if thi^
158 THE NEW RELIGION.
torturing self-denial and self-abuse which finally
results in destroying the body, has the effect to purify
the spirit, why should one not cut the work short in
righteousness and shoot himself?
The best proof of our being good is, that we fit into
our place, that we live as we were intended to live.
If there be light, and eyes fitted to it, we should use
them, and enjoy the light; if there be sound, and ears
fitted to it, we should use them and enjoy its blessings;
if there be food and drink, and a digestive apparatus
adapted to them, we should heed the monitions of
taste and appetite and enjoy them; if there be a family
with helpless infancy, and stronger arms and wiser
thoughts of father and mother, and an instinct that
urges on, the strong arms should hold up and defend
the defenceless; if there be society, the individual
should adjust himself to it, receiving from it and giv-
ing to it what is best for both. Desires and passions,
when properly regulated, have their uses and adapta-
tion. Love incites to doing good to others. F'ear
warns against danger, the passion for money provides
for home and comfort. The love of the beautiful, the
true and the good is to be gratified, by beauty and
truth and goodness. We should study God's order
and make the best of it, instead of placing ourselves
at cross purposes with it. The best preparation we
can have for the life beyond is to have fulfilled the
evident purpose of the life that is here; and the proof
that we shall be happy hereafter is the fact that we are
so living as to be happy now.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I59
Human life and human happiness do not consist of
parts and fragments. The Heaven beyond is here
begun, and it must be substantially the same in kind
^ ^f or aye. ' '
But the ascetic takes direct issue with the order of
nature, and, at infinite cost and loss, wages an unequal
warfare against it. He tortures himself, stifles parental
and social affection, wickedly withdraws his sympathies
from those who would love him, abandons dependent
wife and children, shuts his eyes against those in suf-
fering, turns a deaf ear to the claims of all others, to
nurse himself. He seeks to extinguish and to crush
out from his nature all that would go to make a man
of him, and in doing so becomes the most forlorn and
pitiable of mankind. Alas for religion! Alas for
humanity!
CHAPTER XVI.
Fear a Motive to Virtue.
Having glanced at some of the many and onerous
duties imposed upon the rehgious votary by the Old
Religions, let us consider for a moment how they
enforce obedience in actual life.
It is one thing to preach and point the way of duty,
it is quite another to put precepts into practice — to
take up the line of march and go forward.
In all moral and religious teaching, there are pre-
sented at least, two principal motives to the practice
of virtue — gain and loss. Do right and enjoy, do
wrong and suffer.
The legislator says to the citizen, do wrong if you
will; but if you do I will make you suffer for it. This
is the spirit of Law everywhere.
The mother says to her child, you are very dear to
me. I am happy when you are happy. I suffer when
you suffer. I cannot help it. If you should do wrong
it would make you miserable and it would distress me.
There are two kinds of influence brought to bear in
favor of the practice of virtue. This is not the place
to discuss which is the more effective.
As a factor of virtue and piety^ fear holds an import-
ant plage, Man, in all his relations, is a subject of
THE OLD RELIGIONS. l6l
law, and violated law means suffering. It is not
necessary that we regard law as vindictive and suffering
as punitive. It is better to think of it as preventive
and reformatory. But the penalty is, nevertheless,
suffering, and inspires fear. Hence fear becomes a
motive urging men to obey law, and to obey law is to
practice virtue.
Some have sought to eliminate fear from the list of
motives to virtue. They say that love should draw men
rather than that fear should push and drive them to
obedience. But will love always do it? and if not,
will fear help?
Fear is an inborn sensibility, and inseparable from
human experience in the presence of danger. It has
its proper function and should not be ignored either in
ethics or religion, in the family or in the state.
Let it once be settled and fixed that, God is not
mocked, that whatsoever a man sows that shall he
reap; that if he sow to the flesh he shall of the flesh
reap corruption; and, it is easy to see, that fear will
supplement and reinforce the purpose to sow to the
spirit. Love and fear are here, quite in accord in
their influence on the will, and unite to secure the
practice of virtue.
A just fear invigorates true love and renders it more
powerful to combat the tendencies to vice and sin, so
strong in human nature. The greater the temptation
to do wrong the greater the need of fear to supplement
and fortify the power of love as a conservator of right
conduct, If there be danger of infinite loss, it \y?ir^
l62 THE NEW RELIGION.
better to array every motive against it; and, to dis-
place fear, as some sentimentalists seek to do, were a
serious mistake.
But it were a much greater mistake to ignore love,
and rely upon fear as the principle means of securing
obedience, as most governments and some families
yet do.
Under the earlier teachers of mankind, as among
barbarous nations and barbarous families, the chief
reliance was upon fear, as motive to obedience.
It has been doubted whether the Egyptian Typhon
represented moral evil.
Mr. J. Freeman Clarke, author of ^^Ten Great Relig-
ions," seems to think that transmigration among this
people was not penal, but evolutional, developmental
in its character.^ But it would be difficult to defend
this view, and it is not generally accepted. Man was
held to be accountable hereafter for his actions done
in this life, and to be adjudged according to his works.
He was to be brought before Osiris, and his heart
'^weighed against the feather of truth." He was to be
questioned respecting his conduct in life and especially
as to the whether he had committed the ' ^forty-two
sins," concernmg which his accusers inquired.
In this court of last appeal he has no friend, no
advocate, as has the Christian. If he can show that
his good deeds out-weigh his evil deeds in the scales
of exact truth and justice, Osiris will admit him to the
I. Vol. 2, p. 175.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 163
Islands of the Blessed; but if his evil deeds over-bal-
ance his good ones, then woe! woe! to his poor soul!
He must return to earth and transmigrate through
horrid creatures in the lower ranges of life, and suffer
all the disgusting experiences incident to their wretched
condition; and this on and on, through cycles of such
experience, until he can be again trusted with the privi-
leges and responsibilities of regained human life, when
he is permitted to start again.
Souls cannot die. They leave a former home
And in new bodies dwell, and from them roam.
Nothing can perish. All things change below,
For spirits through all forms may come and go.
Great beasts shall rise to human forms, and men,
If bad, shall downward turn to beasts again.
Thus, through a thousand shapes, the soul shall go,
And thus fulfill its destiny below. 1
— Ovid.
The good Isis may turn a sympathizing look upon
the prisoner at the bar, but it avails him not, and he
knows not what fate awaits him until the august judge
gives sentence. Going thus into court with a sense of
conscious guilt upon his soul (and who has not such
conviction of guilt), he may well fear the worst.
It is easy to see that, under such conditions of life
I The doctrine of Metempsychosis, says Mr. Clarke, was
taught by Pythagoras, Empedocles and Plato; by the Neo
Platonists the Jewish Cabbala and Arab Philosophers; by Origen
ana othei Christian Fathers, by the Gnostics and Manichians, by
the Druids, and, in more recent times, by Fourier and others.
Vol. 2. p. 176.
164 THE NEW RELIGION.
and death, fear must play a principal part among the
motives to virtue and piety. That such anticipation
of future desert did restrain men from vice and pro-
mote virtue cannot be doubted. But, the civilization
of this wonderful people, so renowned for their early
progress in the arts and sciences, was always wanting
in philanthropy, and some of the higher forms of sym-
pathetic virtue, as the absence of public charities and
the neglect of the poor and unfortunate sufficiently
prove. No people of high moral development and
active philanthropy could have held such crude notions
as to the rights, social and political, of the masses, or
such views of the divine prerogatives of the governing
few, as the building of the pyramids imply.
The doctrine of Transmigration was a fundamental
tenet of Brahminism and passed into Buddhism with
little modification; and, as in Egypt, it appealed to
the fears of men.
^^A priest," says the great Indian law- giver, '^who
has drunk spirituous liquor shall migrate into the form
of a larger or smaller worm, or insect, of a moth, or
some ravenous animal. If a man steal grain in the
husk he shall be born a rat; if a yellow mixed metal, a
gander; if water, a Plava, or diver; if honey, a great
stinging gnat; if milk, a crow; if expressed juice, a
dog; if clarified butter, an ichneumon or weasel."
'^As far as vital souls addicted to sensuality indulge in
forbidden pleasures, even to the same degree shall the
acuteness of their senses be raised in their future
bodies, that they may endure analogous pains."
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 165
'^Then shall follow separations from kindred and
friends, forced residence with the wicked, painful
gains and ruinous losses of wealth, friendships, hardly
acquired, and at length changed into enmities."^
*^It may well be doubted," says Mr. J. Thomas,
whether the comparatively vague fear of eternal pun-
ishment, taught among the nations of the West, was
calculated to exert so powerful an influence on the
mind, as the definite, though infinitely varied terrors
which these impending transmigrations inspired. "^
*'The mysterious doctrine of Metempsychosis," says
William R. Alger, ^^has held the entire mind, sentiment
and civilization of the East through every period of its
history as with an irrevocable spell. "^ In all this Bud-
dhism substantially follows Brahminism. The Buddha
himself was the subject of ^^innumerable births." He
was born as an ascetic eighty-three times, as the soul
of a tree, forty-three times, and many times also as an
ape, deer, lion, snipe, chicken, eagle, serpent, pig, frog,
etc. According to a Chinese authority he was made to
say, ^^The number of my births and deaths can only be
compared to that of all the planets of the universe."
Transmigration is punishment. If prayers and pen-
ance and sacrifices — if self-torture and devout contem-
plation fail, the punishment of transmigration must
complete the work of purification.
Sacrifices were offered for various purposes, but
1. Taken from Laws of Menu, as given by Clarke. J. F.
2. Johnson's Cyclop., p. 752, Vol. i.
3. Ibid, p. 84, Vol. 3.
r66 THE NEW RELIGION.
sacrifices to appease the divine wrath and expiate sin
were by far the most common. Under a deep sense
of sin and personal guilt, the alarmed devotee, with
the instinct of danger quivering in every fibre of his
being, cries out through these acted prayers for help
against the coming destiny, but no help comes, and
he knows nothing of the love that '^casts out fear."^
Will fear put an effectual check upon sin? Will
punishment purify the soul — mean what you will by
purify? That it will is the implied postulate of the
Old Religions. The history of penal servitude does
not warrant any such hope. The well-known effect
of punishment for crime has been to harden men, to
destroy moral sensibility, to engender bitterness, and
hate, to dwarf and destroy self-respect, and thus
to weaken rather than strengthen men against
temptation.
Any number of facts could be produced to show
that punishment inflicted by tribunals of justice has
not proved reformatory and saving. The uniform
testimony of officers in charge of penal institutions,
both in this country and Europe, as collected by Mr.
Wines, is to the effect that prison discipline is
I. Not only in India, but elsewhere, men shuddered at the
thought of this lower world. "My temples are gray," said the
pleasure-loving Anacreon, "and white my head. Beautiful yauth
is gone. Not much remains of sweet life. Therefore I often
sigh, fearing Tartarus — dreadful abyss of Hades— full of horrors
is the descent thither; and whatever has gone down there never
returns." — Ullhorn Conflict Christ, and Heath., p. 73.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 67
demoralizing, and the more so as the effort has been
made to degrade men and make them suffer for their
crimes. The treatment, says Dr. Despine, an eminent
physician and philosopher of France, the treatment
which aims only to punish, is dangerous both to
society and the criminal. In France it produces from
40 to 45 per cent, of repeaters — that is, about one-
half of those subjected to this course of penal disci-
pline, leave, to go out and re-enter the list of crimi-
nals, and are again returned to prison, and, generally,
for worse crimes than the first upon which they were
convicted. And this proportion of ^ ^repeaters," or
^^revolvers," as they are sometimes called, holds good
in this country. Does clubbing a man reform him?
Says Mr. Altgeld:^ ^^Does brutal treatment elevate
his thoughts? Does handcuffing fill him with good
resolutions?" There is no greater mistake (says the
National Prison Reform Convention, by resolution at
Cincinnati, Ohio, 1870), in the whole compass of
penal discipline than its studied methods of degrada-
tion, as a part of punishment. Such imposition
destroys every better impulse and aspiration; it
crushes the weak, irritates the strong, and indisposes
all to submission and reform.
Cruel treatment (says Mr. F. Wines in his work
on Prisons), was once generally esteemed the most
sure, just, and only fitting method of penal discipline.
But the period is well passed when the interior of a
I. Penal Machinery.
1 68 THE NEW RELIGION.
prison is to be the arena for the exercise of brutaliz-
ing forces upon erring and wicked men.
There is, says another/ in the history of the human
race, not a single instance wherein cruelty effected a
genuine reformation. It can crush, but it cannot
improve. It can restrain, but as soon as the restraint
is removed, the subject is worse than before. The
human mind is so constituted that it must be led
towards the good, and can be driven only in one
direction, and that is towards ruin.
This fact is clearly admitted in the so-called Chris-
tian dogma of eternal damnation. If the invitations
and warnings of love, and the reformatory agencies of
the present life, where hope and liberty reign, fail to
lead to virtue, and the subject enters upon his pun-
ishment, there is thenceforth no possible hope for
him; his punishment never reforms him.
The Old Religions then have staked too much upon
this method of saving men through fear of punishment.
They have failed to comprehend the fact, now so well
attested, that such a method works, not toward virtue,
but toward vice, and is therefore utterly unsuited to
the purposes of reformation.
I. Altgeld.
CHAPTER XVII.
Want of Sympathy.
Such are some of the principal reformatory means
and agencies relied on by the Old Masters.
In a spirit of fairness, I hope, we have sought to
estimate them at their true value.
We should not, however, be true to the cause of
truth if we do not note at least one important fact that
lies against them — a fact which shows how far these
religions come short of making satisfactory response
to the needs of men involved, as they are, in the dire
disasters incident to human life.
This fact is their evident want of sympathy with
the erring and unfortunate victims of vice and
suffering.
"That good and ill is God's play,
Do not our sages say?
May they not what they make, unmake again?
Mayhap in sport divine
They made your blood and mine,
May they not shed it as they shed rain?"
One of the most obvious and most significant facts
of history, is the fact that men do always sin. This
must be affirmed of every age, and of all classes of
men. Even the optimist cannot deny this. There is
170 THE NEW RELIGION.
no one generation, no nation, however civilized, who
have not exhibited flagrant and repeated immorahties.
This is a fact so constant and so obvious that it
demands serious consideration, both by legislators
and religious teachers and moral philosophers.
Among all peoples there may be found good moral
precepts, a high sense of honor and rectitude in pub-
lic sentiment, and, here and there, admirable exam-
ples of personal purity and virtue; but this does not
prove that either the Republic of Plato or the Utopia
of Sir Thomas Moore, or the scheme of Bellamy is
possible among men.
As to a large proportion of men, immersed in the
cares of business, and absorbed by its excitements,
there is, perhaps, little serious concern for moral con-
sequences, and the desert of the future; and yet there
are sure to come, even to these, on occasions, such
a sense of ill-desert and unworthiness as to humble
them in the dust. Many who are careful and solici-
tous to do the right thing always, are nevertheless
yet compelled to admit their failure. With Paul they
are ready to say, '^When I would do good, evil is
present with me."
We know that in the dying hour, if not sooner,
men often charge themselves with folly, and experi-
ence an imperative need of the divine sympathy and
compassion.
Take men of the largest knowledge and culture —
men of the highest virtue and most exemplary char-
acter— do they, when facing death, do they realize no
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 17I
need of sympathy and divine compassion? Evcii the
dying Son of Man exclaimed, ^^My God! My God! why
hast thou forsaken me?"
If the wisest and the best come into such straits, and
feel such need of appreciating sympathy, what shall
we say of those who have been less perfect and
fortunate in the battle of life?
The bent to sinning seems to be universal among
men, and sinful indulgence is as truly characteristic of
the human race as is the capacity and Instinct of
worship and the conviction of duty. Human life
springs into being, and enters upon its vicissitudes
and anxieties, without having been consulted, having
no choice in its make- up, in its environment. It
inherits ignorance and infirmity. It inherits appetites
and passions, which, at great cost of self denial,
must be restrained. It is born to a legacy of unavoid-
able sorrow and suffering. It is doomed to many a
disappointment, and blighted hope. It must live in
the face of inevitable death, which often comes ere the
sweets of life have been little more than tasted. Per-
adventure the soul wakes to the consciousness of
great moral responsibility, and realizes that it is a
solemn thing to fall into the hands of the living God.
Are the gods capable of compassion and mercy? Do
they feel the touches of sympathy for the suffering?
Thus born and thus conditioned, has man any claim
upon the divine sympathy? May the chastened spirit,
driven by relentless fate, and sighing for appreciation
and reciprocity, look up in hope? Does Osiris, or
172 THE NEW RELIGION.
Brahma, or the good Ormuzed, Buddha, or Zeus, give
any intimation that he has a heart of sympathy — that
he will reach down hands of love and welcome the
alien home?
What mean all the self-denial and penance, self-
sacrifice and self-immolation of human beings that
fill the pages of history? Are men demented — crazed?
What mighty impulse has swept over them that they
should go upon exhausting pilgrimages — should flee
from the haunts of men to starve in the wilderness,
should build altars and burn their fellow men, and be
burnt by them by thousands? Do you say it is ignorance,
fanaticism, folly? Grant it, but it is not the less real
and horrid — not the less the outcome of the nature to
which men were born. They were born to the igno-
rance, the infirmity, the environment, to the influences
which more than their own choice have ^^made them
what they are. ' ' At any rate, in all this degradation do
they not need commiseration? do they not need sym-
pathy, if sympathy there be in the hearts of the gods?
What a pathetic sigh of despair echoes from the
words of the popular and well-to-do comedian: ^^I
have worshiped to gods who do not care for me!"^
But you may be ready to say, man is not a .mere
creature of fate. He is high-born, made a little
lower than the angels, nobly endowed, capable of high
enjoyment and endless progression. His thoughts
take wide range and play with the outcropping won-
I. Menajider
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I73
ders of the universe. He has seen the beautiful, and
felt the touches of its joy. He has discovered the
truth and tasted its sweetness. He has entered upon
a sphere of activity which is full of inspiration and
hope! Aye, grant it all; and, what then? He is cut
down as the flower and withers as the grass, his
majestic form becomes food for worms, his earthly
schemes come to naught, his purposes are thwarted,
his work left imperfectly accomplished, he is cut off
and taken away forever. All this at least to seeming
— does he need sympathy — does he need to know
that
"Earth hath no sorrows
That heaven cannot heal?"
Does he need to know that, somewhere in the
beyond, the mighty catastrophe he must suffer will
find recognition and compensation? He may be
great as men count greatness, but he is yet the vic-
tim of losses and crosses, of broken purposes and
blighted hopes — he cannot escape the intermediate
evil. He cannot escape the clouds and storms that
come and go unbidden. He cannot pursue his cher-
ished purposes to their fulfillment, ere death drops
her dark curtain and the drama closes. And then
what trusts are displaced, what solemn changes have
come? Could he be human and not feel in this
crucial hour the need of sympathy that is more than
human? What, if such ^^good and ill" is thought to be
indeed ^^God' s plaf — that the eternal has no heart
in such a life of vicissitude, and such experience of
174 THE NEW RELIGION.
misfortune and suffering, would not raven despair
crown every death scene, and render life miserable by
dread anticipation? How does the poor, death-
smitten soul need to feel that the great God is merci-
ful and good, and that whatever else may prove to be
true, He can be trusted in the direst extremities, as
one that is capable of sympathizing and helpful love.
But the gods of the Cld Religion are not gods of
sympathy and love. The Eternal is a God of justice,
of pure and exalted spirit, far removed from the con-
cerns of mankind; a God of inexorable law; or, as
among the Greeks and Romans, of superhuman
power, capable of every conceivable form of lust and
passion. The Egyptian might indeed hope to become
divine, and to dwell among the gods in the ^Tslands
of the Blessed," but he must first pass the ordeal of
his forty-two judges, and be weighed in the scales of
truth and justice. He has no sympathy at court, and
may not hope for mercy.
The Brahmin, after infinite penance and prepara-
tion, may hope for absorption into the Great and
Holy Being from whom, in the cycles of past eternity,
the whole universe, including himself, had proceeded,
but, not until prayer and sacrifice and punishment,
through sufficiently repeated and protracted transmi-
grations, had sublimated him into pure spirit.
The Buddhist talks of heaven and may hope for
Nirwana; but not until his whole moral organism has
been practically destroyed by the annihilation and
obliteration of all sensibility. He must abide in
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 75
affliction until the spiritual surgery of suffering has
cut away all emotion, all passion, all desire from his
nature, and he is qualified to lie down in eternal
unconscious rest — his last hope — Nirwana. The
regime is one of inexorable law, without a hint of
divine clemency or a hope of pardoning sympathetic
love.^
When Confucius was asked whether there is one
word which includes all the duties of life, he answered,
yes, and that word is ^^reciprocity;" so thoroughly was
he penetrated with the need and power of sympathy
among men. Sympathy is the outcrop and concrete
expression of love. No one is complete without it,
either in his suojective condition or in his objective
relations. It constitutes mankind integrally one, and
as men are thus one with each other in nature, they
are one with God, the all Father, who, in his prime
manifestation to his creatures, is declared to be love.
''As the hart panteth after the water brook, so panteth
my soul after thee, O God."
What shall we say, then, of that religious cultus
which recognizes no correspondence of mutual sym-
pathy between the creature and the Creator, no tender-
I. A God (says Ullhorn, Conflict of Christianity and Heathen-
ism, p. 30) — A God who takes pity on sinners and turns away the
proud and self-reliant reverses all the old conceptions of God.
The gods neither give nor receive love and the strict justice
attributed to them makes forgiveness impossible. Therefore
Celsus opposes the Christian God who takes the part of the
wretched and those who weep and suffer.
176 THE NEW RELIGION,
ness, no forgiving mercy? We happen to know, thanks
to the blessed Son of Man, that He with whom are the
issues of hfe is touched with the ^^feehngof our infirmi-
ties,'' but the Old Masters knew it not, and they there-
fore could offer no such consolation to their suffering
and dying fellow men.
There is, however, deep within the nature of man
an instinctive trust in the divine goodness which all
philosophy, with her proofs of inexorable law and
justice, cannot eradicate or suppress, and the cry of the
Hebrew seer is the cry of the smitten soul the world
over and through the ages: ^^O that I knew where I
might find him! I would bring my cause before him,
I would plead with him as a man pleads with his
friend. ' '
The deep felt sense of want, and need of divine
help, will not lift, even from those who know not God.
How sweet the touches of generous appreciative
sympathy, even of friend for friend, in the dark hours.
However, after all, human arms are short in the direst
extremities of the soul.
But let the victim of suffering, awaiting his inevita-
ble doom, know that the Almighty Creator, who gave
him being, and who is privy to all his direst needs, is
the Father in Heaven, and not only able, but willing
and lovingly anxious to succour and to save, and how
does the whole aspect of his life and destiny change?
But this is a ray of light from the ^^New Religion"
which is now soon to claim our attention. No Old
Religion offers such solace. The sun of life, checkered
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 77
with many a grievous sorrow, sets in ni^ht, relieved
only, at best, by the flickering hope that somehow,
sometime in the cycle of revolving ages, the light may
again dawn upon him, or that he may be permitted an
eternal, unbroken and unconscious sleep.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Supernatural.
The Old Religions dwelt in the clouds — they
scarcely ever touched foot upon terra firma. They
have shed down upon men a mighty influence of bless-
ing and of cursing, and history has been able to report
some of their good and some of their evil, but has not
been able to follow them into the heavens, where the
clouds conceal them. They were born of the spirit
and breathe the air of the supernatural.
There is no religion without mystery, without
legend, without the supernatural, if we mean by
supernatural that which has hitherto seemed unac-
countable on natural principles or by natural law.
The supernatural, at least in this qualified sense, is
involved in Christianity and bound up with it.
That it has been a stone of stumbling and rock of
offence to certain classes, there can be no doubt.
Those of a philosophic turn of mind believing in the
uniformity of natural law, and who habitually seek to
know the how and wherefore of things, are repulsed by
what implies disorder in nature, and they naturally
enough refuse to go forward when they know not why
or whither. Their studies of physical law and natural
science have had the effect, possibly, to disqualify
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 179
them, in some measure, for the airy regions, whither
the spirit alwa3^s and necessarily tends. At any rate
they appreciate the advice of Paul to "'prove all thiiigs
a7id hold fast only that which is good,'' With cold
logic they are want to insist, that even in matters of
religion men should be able to give "r reason for the
hope that is within them."
But, unfortunately, however, a really good reason in
matters religious does not always appear to be good
to the philosopher and scientist.
The things of the spirit can only be spiritually dis-
cerned— can only be appreciated by those who can
rise above the realm of sense, and this he who always
holds in hand his measuring line and square and com-
pass finds it difficult to do.
But, really, one must not be content to abide in the
merely sensuous, if he is to realize on his possibilities
as a mxan. He must sooner or later outgrow the
physical, must develop the psychic, must realize his
relations to an informing spirit, must come to a con-
sciousness of what mere matter cannot give.
But in admitting and claiming the intervention and
necessity of an informing spiritual discernment, do we
not throw wide open the gateway to all manner of
spiritual vagaries and absurd beliefs?
It is frankly admitted that such doctrine is very
liable to dangerous abuses, and as a matter of fact it
has been the fruitful source of visionary and hurtful
superstitions in all the ages. But without some
spiritual discernment and recognition of spiritual life
i8g the new religion.
there could be no religion, and without religion men
could not live.
The case, however, is not so desperate as some seem
to think. We must distinguish broadly between the
supernatural and the supersensual. The supernatural
always transcends our reason, and, as it has been the
custom to present it, '^ contradicts'^ our reason. The
supersensual does neither.
Men are born with certain intuitions and appeten-
cies, which underlie religion, and upon which it may
be built, as upon the rocks. Those who do not
properly read these intuitions out of their own experi-
ence, and abide in them, are in danger of being
drifted about by every wind of doctrine, and finally
lost in the nethermost wilderness of superstition.
The religious philosopher will stand unflinchingly
by his intuitions, his reason and common sense —
which is the God given sense — and, doing this, he will
walk securely on the high grounds of the supersen-
sual, and attain a conscious exaltation of life and
blessing never realized on the lower planes of animal
life.
The effort to eradicate the supernatural from Chris-
tianity has been a prolonged and earnest one. That
there is much that is good and great in the Christian
system has hardly been questioned by the most skep-
tical and prejudiced, and it is felt to be a grand pity
that it should be so embarrassed and discredited by
any mixture with the miraculous and supernatural.
The efforts of Strauss and Renan are memorable in
THE OLD RELIGIONS. l8l
the history of the conflict waged against the super-
natural, as it appears in Christianity; — as to the Ger-
man, they are pathetic.
It has been the fashion to decry and behttle these
struggles with the supernatural, but this fashion, like
most other mere fashions, prevails among shallow
people, who are guiltless of any great depth, either of
candor or charity or learning.
Recognizing these difSculties as real and great, and
respecting the candor of those who experience them,
it has not been the least purpose of these pages to
present the Christian system in such a light, if possi-
ble, as to lessen somewhat its apparent supernatural-
ism, and make it more acceptable to men of this
class.
But, saying what we may, if we shall yet have
something of the supernatural left in Christianity, it
must seem to be little, when compared with the super-
natural of the Old Religions.
In their very warp and woof they are supernatural,
a fact which, by the way, has been slurred over by
some who are very sensitive of the supernatural in
Christianity.
I am aware that the mystical divinities of the
Old Religions, in their philosophic and true signifi-
cance, impersonate principles which thus take a per-
manent form of expression — a kind of personality —
but, granting this, we have yet to account for much
that is built into their character by the fertile fancy,
rendering them extremely abnormal and grotesque.
1 82 THE NEW RELIGION.
They have all the rickety conformation and disjointed
features of dreams, which stamp them as wholly
supernatural. Let us indulge but for a moment a
glance at some of their principal divinities.
In Egypt, Osiris, in general, represents the good,
as his brother Typhon does the evil, though certainly
very imperfectly, since Osiris is often anything but
good, and Typhon far from being purely evil.
Osiris was the son of Seb and Nut. He reigned
over Egypt 450 years, traveled over the rest of the
world, was assassinated, locked and sealed up in a
mummy chest and thrown into the Nile. He was
carried to Bybloss by the waves, lodged in the
branches of a tamarisk, which, growing, enclosed him
in its trunk. Isis, his wife and sister recovered the
chest and took it back to Egypt, was discovered by
Typhon, who tore the body of Osiris into fourteen
pieces, which he scattered about the country. Isis
again sought and found these pieces, except portions
which the dogs and fish had destroyed. He finally
emerges as Chief of the Egyptian Pantheon and Pre-
siding Judge of the Dead! Supernatural enough, you
say.
In the Hindu Pantheon we have Brahm repre-
sented by Brahma, Vishnu and Siva, three separate
avatars, constituting the Divine Trimurti (Trinity).
The most remarkable of these is Vishnu. Nine
times he has been born into flesh, and the devout
Hindu is now expecting his tenth incarnation.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 183
He is regarded as the Encompasser, the All Pene-
trator, as the Supreme Deity forming Heaven and
Earth; he is the indefinable Omnipotent, the comrade
of the gods of fire, and the spacious Firmanent. He
reclines on the Lotus, is fierce as the long-tusked
boar, is guarded by the hooded serpent of many heads;
is the primal fish of the ocean of births; is the eternal
tortoise, and on his back can bear the weight of the
Universe; is the man-lion and the fulfiller of space,
who can at will take upon himself the form of a dwarf.
Brahma, with his four heads, springs into being from
his naval. He is the husband of the peerless vSita,
who is so pure that even the flames of a furnace can-
not take effect upon her person, and much more to
the same general effect.^ In like manner the whole
great mythological Pantheon is wrapped in endless
legend and an all-embracing supernaturalism. After
making the most liberal allowance for allegory and
poetic license, one cannot but feel that the unreason-
ing credulity, which the Hindu's faith implies, is sim-
ply marvelous.
Mohammedanism, as compared with the Old Relig-
ions, is widely different and singularly free from
the supernatural. It is indeed less interwoven with
the miraculous than, Christianity. There is but one
God, and Mahomet is his Apostle, says Mohamme-
danism. There is but one God, and Jesus, the Christ,
is his Son, says Christianity.
I, See Johnson's Cyclop.
184 THE NEW RELIGION.
If one claimed to receive frequent revelations from
the one God, the other claimed to reveal and imper-
sonate the Almighty Father in what he did and said.
That the great name of Mohammed should inspire
veneration, and even worship, can hardly surprise the
student of human nature, so powerful is the religious
imagination to exalt the teacher who assumes to know
the will of God.
Even the matter-of-fact, non-religious, but great
Confucius, has not escaped the apotheosizing ten-
dency, while the mystic and spiritual Gotama was
almost a born ^^Buddha,'* and, ere the first generation
of Christians had passed away, it was said of Jesus
in language sufficiently suggestive of philosophical
speculation, — ^^In the beginning was the Word, and
the Word was with God," and, going beyond this, —
^^the Word was God. All things were made by him,
and without him was not anything made that hath
been made."^
There can be no doubt that to this tendency of
human nature, this ready credulity in matters religious,
may be traced much that has come down to us as
supernatural in Christianity.
And hence the necessity of abiding most faithfully
by reason and authoritative history, in making up our
conclusions as to the supernatural in our religion.
In our present state of knowledge if we accept
Christianity at all, we must accept what is called the
I. John i: I, 2.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 185
superncttural. To reject it is historically impossible.
To do so we must discredit its most sacred vouchers
and invalidate its claims to truth and consistency. By
definition, by reasonable construction and inference,
by historical criticism and emendation, we can reduce
the miraculous to a minimum, but that minimum will
remain until it is removed by larger knowledge than
men now possess, if removed it ever shall be.
I do not accept the current teaching that, if Chris-
tianity did not include the miraculous (as the term is
used) it would not be a religion at all. I cannot think
that man, endowed with his great powers and his
thirst for knowledge, must always grope in the dark
and forever fail to vindicate his right to know what
the divine order is, and his relations to it. Sometime,
somewhere, he must be relieved from this conscious
inadequacy of reason.
Mr. Hume's famous argument against miracles has
attracted wide attention, as one absolutely unanswera-
ble. It is thus stated.-
^ invariable experience is in favor of the uniformity
of nature, while it is not in favor of the infallibility of
human testimony; hence there is, in all cases, a
greater probability of the falseness of the miracle than
of the violation of the law of nature thereby implied. '*
Under the usually accepted definition of the term
miracle, I am free to admit, I cannot see how the
force of this argument can be resisted.
Webster defines the term miracle as ^'an event or
an effect contrary to the established constitution and
1 86 THE NEW RELIGION.
course of things, or a deviation from the known laws
of nature." President Seelye says: ^^A miracle
shows a new force introduced into nature, by which
nature is checked and changed — a miracle may be
defined, therefore," he says, ^^as a counteraction of
natu7'e by the Author of natter e.''^
To offset this argument of Mr. Hume, it has been
found necessary to assert, as Mr. Seelye does:^
*^ist. The reasonable may have no existence.
*^2d. There is no universal standard of reason.
*^3d. There is no uniformity of nature which does
not imply the supernatural!"
But, unfortunately for this argument, men go
steadily forward, assuming that the reasonable does
exist'y that there is a standard of reason to which all
men appeal, and that there is a uniformity in the order
of nature, which does not imply ^^a counteraction of
nature by the Author of nature."
The reply shows the desperate strain of the effort
made to escape from the argument.
I suggest that the error lies in the definition of the
term, and the difficulty in our ignorance.
According to his biographers, Jesus was begotten
of the Holy Ghost and born of a virgin; and the very
inception of the whole mov-^ment is, therefore, you
say, miraculcus. Such an origin is '^contrary to the
established constitution of things." It shows ^*a new
1. Johnston's Cyclop., Art. Miracle.
2. In loco cit.
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 87
force introduced into nature, by which nature is
checked and changed."
But does it? Does it show any counteraction of
nature by the Author of nature? What established
order of things is checked and changed?
Is it an estabhshed order of nature that the domain
of animated existence shall not be extended? — that no
more species or genera shall be produced? Very many
have been produced. We know them, have classified
and tabulated them. Is it contrary to any established
constitution of things, or to any law of nature, that
another genus or another species shall be added?
That such an event duly notified to us would be some-
thing new, something different — miraculous, is plain
enough, but would it be contrary to any existing order
of nature? Would it oppose or antagonize, or break
any law of nature?
It has been maintained by many ripe scholars,
among whom was our own Agassiz, that there were
different centers of creation — different genera of men,
created at different times and places.^
I. The unity of man was generally conceded by the early
naturalists — notably by Buffon, Blumenbach, Linnaeus and
Prichard. Visey, whose work was first published in 1801, seems
to have been the first among modern naturalists to call in ques-
tion the specific unity of man.
Visey divided man into two species, founding his distinction
mainly upon the facial angle of Camper.
In 1825 Borey de St. Vincent divided man into fifteen species.
In 1826 Desmoulins, who had previously recognized eleven
species, increased the number to sixteen.
Jacquinot, in 1849, recognized three species; Dr. Morton,
1 88 THE NEW RELIGION.
But while we have not accepted this view, and hold
that ^^of one blood were created all the nations of the
earth/' would the addition of another genus be incom-
patible -mth the ^^established constitution of things?'*
Would the successive production of new types of
being be in ^ ^violation" of any known law? Would it
be a ^^counteraction of nature by the Author of
nature?"
But you say whether there be but one genus homo,
as most naturalists now agree in believing, or two, or
eight, or sixteen, or sixty-three genera, as others have
taught, they were not ^ ^begotten of the Holy Ghost
and born of a virgin." Ah! well — ^^not begotten of
the Holy Spirit?" How then begotten, pray? Not
^^born of a virgin?" True, so far as we know. The
mother conditions of the human race in its origin have
not been clearly given. Every human being is a
child of the All Father in Heaven — child of whatever
mother — Son of God. Jesus was the Son of Mary —
^^Son of God," sui generis^ ^^the only begotten, full of
grace and truth." This, at least. Is the story given us
of Jesus. Will those who insist upon the celebrated
argument of the great English skeptic, point out what
known law is here violated even by implication?
His argument is defective because it assumes that
a miracle implies a violation of some natural law — a
fact which is not and cannot be admitted.
twenty-two families; Luke Burke, sixty-three species; Agassiz
eight, and in this he was followed by Nott and Gliddon. — John-
son s Cyclop., Art. Man, by M. B. Apder§on,
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 89
We leave President Seelye with his inadmissible
definition of miracle to take care of himself; but, con-
cluding on this point, we insist against Mr. Hume
that, so far as this miracle of genesis is concerned,
there has been no disturbance of the established con-
stitution of things, no deviation from any known law
of nature, expressed or implied; no counteraction of
nature by the Author of nature.
For a specific and expressed purpose, an addition
of another order of being was made, and the incep-
tion of the wonderful movement which has since fol-
lowed in the world's history is provided for. ^^God so
loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son
that whosoever believeth in him might not perish but
have everlasting life. "
With such a paternity what should we expect in the
character of Jesus? The human predominating more
at first, the divine more toward the last, he grows
from ordinary infancy and childhood to extraordinary,
superhuman manhood. Instead of being both *Very
man" and ^Very God," as the great Council of
Chalcedon declared, he is neither the one nor the
other, as his biographers represent him, but, and in
strict accord with what we know of the laws of repro-
duction and heredity, he is both the Son of Man and
the Son of God. He is styled the '^Son of Man"
some thirty times, and the ^'Son of God" a less num-
ber of times in these written histories of him.
If such be the genesis of this remarkable character,
his sphere of activity would be larger, and his power
igo THE NEW RELIGION.
greater than that of a mere man; and it should not
surprise us if he should be found doing something
that seems very wonderful, but it is here neither
claimed nor admitted that he ever transcended his
proper functions — ever disturbed or counteracted the
established constitution of things.
As to what he did do, we have reason to believe,
comparatively little has been transmitted to us. But
he is represented as performing some thirty-seven
miracles, which let us note:
He stood, with his disciples, by the fig tree, which
had died at his bidding. They were amazed at his
power. He said to them, have faith in God. — Mark
ii: 22.
He was asleep on board a ship amid a dangerous
sea. His disciples were alarmed. They aw^oke him
and, trembling with fear, prayed, ^^Lord save us!"
The sea at once became calm, and he said to them,
^^O ye of little faith."— Matt. 8: 25.
On another occasion the disciples were at sea and
they beheld Jesus in the distance walking upon the
sea. The impetuous Peter could not wait, but desired
to go to meet him, and he bid him come. He
started, but terrified at the surging waves, he began
to sink, and cried, ^^Lord, save, or I perish." Jesus
reaching, caught him, and said, ^^Wherefore did you
doubt?"— Matt. 14: 29.
On one occasion his disciples tried to cure a young
lunatic, but could not. The boy's father took him to
Jesus and reported their failure. He immediately
THE OLD RELIGIONS. igi
effected a cure, and turning to his disciples said, ^'O
faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be
with you? How long shall I suffer you?" And, when
they desired to know why they could not effect a cure,
he said, ^ ^because of your unbelief."
Three times he is reported as having brought the
dead to life, one after being dead ^^four days!"
Among the other wonders wrought by him were, as
reported, restoring sight to the blind, hearing to the
deaf, and health to the sick and diseased. Many of
them, somehow, were conditioned on "faith.' ^ Of
these thirty-seven different miracles, so-called, six
are reported by two, and twelve by three of his
biographers.
It must be remembered, now, that these authors
wrote in an age of miracles — they were common —
they were in the air. They wrote long after the
events reported had transpired, twenty to sixty years
or more afterward;^ and it should not greatly surprise
us if their accounts should differ in some of the
details — if some should report what others omit, if
something of error should be mixed with the truth,
nor if some things were reported as miracles that were
wrongfully accredited as such. They wrote what
they knew, or at least believed to be true, and this is
all that should be claimed for them.
But what about being ^'inspired" by the Holy
Spirit of God, to write only the truth — Well, what
I. See Haweis' Christ and Christianity, Story of the Four,
PP- ^5. 43. 73-
192 THE NEW RELIGION.
about it? If there are those who can yet accept the
theory of plenary inspiration, let it be so. They will
probably in time be compelled to abandon this view.
Each writer seems to have a personality of his own.
His language and style are his own. His account
differs in some respects from that of each of the
others. Ere the account ends they all confess them-
selves to have been mistaken as to what, on certain
occasions, the Master tried to teach them, and none
of them lays any claim to having been infallibly
directed to write what he did; even their quotations
from the Old Testament are frequently forced, some-
times erroneous — all of which, and more, is incon-
sistent with the theory of plenary inspiration.
If,, then, anything has been reported as a miracle
which is known to contradict or violate a law of
nature, known to be contrary to the * ^established con-
stitution of things," it must be instantly rejected,
there must be error in the report — error somewhere. It
cannot be historically true, and the Christian religion
must not be held responsible for it.
But let us weigh these words. Many, very many
things are, and must be, believed that are not known.
I have used the word known. Does any one, or
more, of the wonderful things done by the Son of
Man, and reported as miracles, antagonize, contra-
dict, violate any natural law or '^established constitu-
tion of things?'' Does the established order of nature
forbid healing the sick, giving sight to the blind or
hearing to the deaf? What, then, is the vocation of
THE OLD RELIGIONS. 1 93
the physician but a contest with nature? So far from
it that nature is ever seeking to do these very things
herself, and, in a great majority of cases, succeeds;
the broken bone knits, the wound is healed, and
health restored. But there are cases in which nature
seems to need a little help, and hence the need of the
physician. If the physician knew more he could help
more; at least there is no antagonism between him
and nature, unless, indeed, he assume the role of the
^^quack, " and begin outright to antagonize nature, as
he too often does.
If, then, the thirty-seven miracles, reported, are hard
to understand — transcend our knowledge, let us go slow,
hold them sub Judice, until we come to know whether
they do actually contradict, or ^ ^antagonize" the
established order of nature.
Suppose that too years ago some Watt had left his
friends in Liverpool, and after less than twelve days he
had returned to them again, bringing with him a score
of proofs that he had in the meantime been in New
York — had made the round trip across the Atlantic !
In the face of all proof everybody would have said,
* ^impossible!" Or suppose some LeSage, loo years
ago, had said to a friend, step into the office across the
street, and wait, in six seconds I will send you a mes-
sage around the world — and it is done. But everybody
says, ^^Youjoke; it cannot be — it is impossible — pre-
posterous ! !"
Or, suppose that but forty years ago some Bell, or
Gray had said to a friend in New York City, ^^You
194 THE NEW RELIGION.
know me well, my voice and manner of speech, with
its peculiar inflections and intonations; you go over to
Chicago, looo miles away, put your ear to a little
trumpet hanging on the wall of the Mayor's office and
I will speak to you in audible tones, exactly at 4 o'clock,
p.m., making allowance for difference in longitude.
At that moment you shall hear me— you will recognize
my voice, its peculiar inflections and cadences." Pre-
posterous ! But it is done, and he has heard as per
agreement ! ! !
Or suppose that some Edison, less than forty years
ago, had said, ^^At midnight to-morrow I will bid the
light of day flash in an instant from the all-embracing
air, and light up every city on the continent."
Or suppose he should say he had in his possession
a box which he had brought from the opposite side of
the globe, in which he had locked up a curious speech
and laid it away for future hearing, and that if his
friends were curious to hear an Oriental in his own
voice and words, the inflections and intonations per-
fect, he would gratify them. What ! Is this Edison
crazy? The puzzling challenge is accepted. He un-
locks the wizard phonograph, and sure enough they
instantly hear the said Oriental begin his speech. On
and on he goes. The reproduction is exact. Astound-
ing! What now? Would not all the doctors vote
Edison in league with the devil, or be disposed to fall
down and worship him? These sons of genius are not
wizards, not imposters, not endowed with super,
natural power. They do not even claim to be begotten
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I95
of the Holy Ghost and born of a virgin. They might
each say in all truth and candor, *^the things which
ye see me do, shall ye do, and even greater things than
these.''
The difficulty with the supernatural in Christianity
lies most in our lack vf knowledge and not probably in
any conflict with the order of nature. We know full
well that mystery and miracle dissolve and disappear
as knowledge increases. The position attained by
the profound scholar enables him to see through and
comprehend a thousand things that are as inscrutable
as mystery itself, to the ignorant plodders in life's
pathway below.
Now, strip the reported m.iracles of Jesus of Ori-
ental tropes, and Oriental extravagance, and study
them with Anglo-American directness and common
sen^e, and how many of them do we know to be incon-
sistent with the natural order? Different from the
usual order, new, strange, unaccountable they may
be, but this does not mean that they must be incom-
patible with natural law, did we but know the law.
If you would reproduce an oratorio of Handel, an
opera of M.ozart, or a symphony of Beethoven, you
must know what key to touch, what note to prolong.
Grant that the wonderful Son of Man knew what key
to touch and what note to prolong, and you probably
have most, if not all the thirty-seven miracles reported,
accounted for, and this, too, without hypothecating
any violation of nature's order.
It must be noted that Jesus did not claim that this
ig6 THE NEW RELIGION.
miracle power belonged to himself only. So far from
it that he assured his disciples that they too could do
the same things he did, and even ^ ^greater than these/*
if they would but put themselves into proper relations
to the work — they must have ^^faith" — must not doubt
their ability to do, and herein, let us admit candidly,
our trouble is doubled.
This power belongs to men, not because of any
peculiar sanctity, or holiness of character, giving them
closer access to God, and securing the divine help. It
can hardly be said that the disciples had then been
even converted. They certainly knew little of the
Christ-mission and the Christ-work. But he assured
them in true Oriental imagery that, ^^if they had faith, *'
but as a grain of mustard seed, they could say to
this mountain, ^^be thou taken up and cast into the sea,
and it would be done. ' '
What now? Are we to be lifted from terra firma
and suspended in mid ether? Must we at the last
moment surrender reason, and betake ouraelves to
faith and mystery, if we would be Christians?
Or, does the author of Christianity only mean to
teach us, when his teaching is put into Anglo-Ameri-
can phrase, that confidence in the result goes far
toward achieving it; that devotion and concentrated
effort are conditions of the largest success — that men
have failed to appreciate these conditions — that
human power and human effort have not been called
into action and relied upon for half their capacity?
Does he mean to teach that, if men, did they but
THE OLD RELIGIONS. I97
know it, stand in the immediate presence of mighty
forces, whose concealed spring they shall yet learn to
touch, whose latent power they shall yet learn to
develop, and command for purposes of achieving
results which only seem to be supernatural?
We think of spirit. We have a consciousness that
the soul is something different from inert matter. We
are accustomed to think of spirit as living and having
pov/er as opposed to death. But what is life and what
is death? Science is making more and more narrow
the chasm which separates spirit and matter — life and
death. What if this process continues? Give us the
nearest approach to the brink on the hither and the nither
side, and may not this required '^faith," this Pistue,
span the chasm and open up a new world? May it
not close the circuit of available means and make the
truly miraculous possible on a scale hitherto unthought
of ? The human soul touches the external world at
five points and wakes to conscious relations with it.
What would a hundred senses instead of only five
reveal to us?
Within the deep darkness of a subterranean cavern
you have perhaps four senses: touch, taste, hearing,
smell. Introduce a ray of light and another sense is
given you, and with it behold the over-arching glory!
Gleaming crystal and stalactite with every hue and
image of color and beauty. We stand upon the very
brink of the spiritual. Already the telegraph and tele-
phone have well nigh annihilated time and space.
The next turn of the wheel may give us the victory
198 THE NEW RELIGION.
over gravity and opacity, contingent only upon the
use of proper means as indicated by Jesus to his dis-
ciples. On all subjects and at all times, when proper
tests have been made, this wonderful Son of Man has
been found very much in advance of current thought.
This has been more than once indicated in preceding
pages of this work. He doubtless had a range of vision
that ordinary mem have not. Within the larger sphere
of his knowledge and power, we may suppose it were
easy for him to do what might seem to us to be very
wonderful — impossible. In some of these miracles he
may have been incorrectly reported. The authors
were human, very human, and very imperfect, and may
have misapprehended some, or many, of the facts in any
given case. They may have been imposed upon —
mistaken — and before taking up a charge against the
founder of the Christian system, or against any one
else for that matter, we should know whereof we affirm.
Jesus was no imposter, no spiritual mountebank, ex-
ploiting unsupported pretensions before a credulous
public. His reputation for candor and truth is unim-
peachable. In the world's history he stands much
above other men, and I submit that we are hardly com-
petent to pronounce against him. With reverent
spirits we may say, with the bewildered Nicodemus,
'^Hqw can these things be!" But, until we attain to
greater heights of knowledge and become better able
to test their truth, shall we be able to intelligently
reject the miracles of Jesus as false or impossible?
There is too much for us and for the world in
THE OLD RELIGIONS. IQQ
Christianity to allow its claims to be hastily set
aside.
I would not ask the skeptic to forego his reason, or
abandon common sense, as so many seem to do, in
embracing religion. This were a crime against his
better nature. There can be nothing sacred enough,
even in religion, to justify such a course. But if a
cloud overspread the sun, shall we hastily conclude
that it has left its place in the heavens? If a spot has
been discovered upon its disk, shall we close our eyes
to the radiant light and live our poor lives through in
perpetual night ? If in the life and teaching of Jesus the
Christ we find things too high for us — difficult, impos-
sible for us to understand — let us not allow them to
discredit our religion, or shake our confidence in what
we knoiv to be good and true. We can well afford to
hold them under judgment until the resolving light
shall come, as come it will, we may be sure.
But after all, these thirty-seven miracles with which
his biographers accredit him, are but minor miracles.
Grant that his parentage and birth were as they have
been reported, that he lived a blameless and very
extraordinary life, that he was crucified, dead, and
buried, and that he rose again to life, displaying evi-
dently superhuman characteristics, and we need not
stop to higgle over the question whether he once con-
verted water into wine at a wedding, or whether in
some mysterious way, but imperfectly reported, he fed
4,000 or 5,000 people in the wilderness. Under the
lead of the principal facts, sufficiently authenticated,
200 THE NEW RELIGION.
minors and details must fall into line, and both the
Christian apologist and the skeptic betray their weak-
ness when they lose sight of the governing facts, and
allow themselves to become engrossed with mere
details and incidents. If the extraordinary life and
teaching of the Son of Man — his startling revelations
in the sphere of morals and religion — accord with and
enforce the circumstantial and historical proof of his
resurrection and ascension to heaven, we may rest
assured that somehow all minor mysteries will at last
dissolve and leave the sky above and about us without
a cloud.
We say nothing of schools of theology with their conflicting
interpretations, nothing of private and speculative beliefs in
outside circles, nothing of skepticism touching religion in general;
but so long as religion itself, as a system of truth, is a complex
inconsistency, or an architectural absurdity, or its disciples are
ignoraiit of the truths that enter into its composition, there will
be necessity for repeated exploration, adoption of new definitions
and ventures on higher achievements.
— Plato and Paul,
PART IIL
THE NEW RELIGION— OUTLINED.
CHAPTER XIX.
The Christ Character.
In pursuance of our purpose to find a remedy for
the imperfections and infirmities of men, we turn now
from the Old Religions to the New. Does it supple-
ment what was found to be lacking in them? Is it
better suited to the needs of mankind than were they?
Is it so adapted to human wants as to justify the hope
that it will become the religion of humanity? These
are large and serious questions, and they demand our
utmost candor and most earnest attention.
Christianity, though a comparatively new religion,
has now had a history of about nineteen centuries.
It came, it is said, in the ^ ^fullness of the time" — in the
golden age of the ancient civilizations, when men
were better prepared to understand and appreciate it
than they had ever been. Egyptian theology and
science had shed their light. The institutes of Menu
were held in venerated authority. Buddha and Laotze
^,nd Confucius had taught mankind for centuries,
204 THE NEW RELIGION.
Pythagoras and Socrates and Plato had Hved.
Stoicism and epicureanism had borne their best fruits.
Greek philosophy was enshrined in tomes of papyrus;
Greek and Roman science and art in imperishable
monuments. Rome had thrown her doors wide open
to all religions, and the light of the ages was concen-
trated upon the time and the spot when and where
Christianity had its birth.
It has since been presented to the consideration of
more than fifty generations. As a religion it is incom-
parably simple in its teachings and direct in its pur-
poses. In a trial of nineteen centuries, under such
enlightened observation, and before such competent
judges, one would suppose that its merits or demerits
would ha.ve been, by this time, so attested as to leave
no division of opinion and sentiment in regard to the
one or the other, in the public mind.
But this result has not been attained. Counting in
all nominal with real Christians the world over, not
more than one-fourth of the population of the globe
has accepted the New Religion.^
What then is the matter? Is it because it antago-
nizes the Old Religions, which men are slow to give
I. According to Prof. Schem, as quoted by H. W. Bellows, in
Johnson's Encyclopedia, the population of the globe is 1,392,000,-
000; Roman Catholics, 201,000,000; Protestants, 106,000,000;
Eastern Churches, 81,000,000. Total Nominal Christians, 388,-
000,000; Buddhists, 340,000,000; Mohammedans, 2oi,ooo,ooci
Brahmins, 175,000,000; Followers of Confucius, 80,000,000;
Sintoo Religion, 14,000,000; Judaism, 7,000,000; Total of all
Religions, 1,205,000,000.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 205
Up? — because it requires reformation of life, which
men are slow to make? — because it involves mysteries,
which men are slow to believe? Possibly, and in
part.
Biographers,
Early in the history of his public life Jesus chose
twelve men, who became his followers and constant
companions, and to whom he sedulously sought to im-
part a correct knowledge of his character and mission.
Two of these afterward became his biographers. They
were Jewish peasants, without previous distinction
among men.
Mark and Luke also wrote up the story of the life
and works of Jesus. Mark was the companion of
Peter, who, as one of the twelve, stood at the head of
the apostolic college. Mark was himself, no doubt, an
eye and ear witness to much he records, and accepted
Peter's account of what was done as authoritative.
Luke was the constant companion of the great
apostle to the Gentiles. He was a physician — a man
of somewhat wider intelligence — but was doubtless
very much under the influence of Paul, the Jew, whose
beliefs and opinions may be read between the lines,
though he himself was more a Greek.
From these four historians, with incidental contribu-
tions direct from Peter, and James, and Judas, other
members of the college, and from Paul, who claims to
have been a competent witness, we have learned what
we know of the immediate life and teaching of the Son
of Man — the founder of the New Religion,
2o6 THE NEW RELIGION.
Since the story they have written up is a most won-
derful one and beyond comparison the most powerful
in its yet living and wide reaching influence, touching
all our most sacred interests, it is important to note
their qualifications for a task so momentous. Are the
facts they give credible ? Is the subject matter a legend,
a painted fiction, or a true history?
Whatever else may be said of them and their work
through this short and simple narrative^ they have
become the venerated teachers o£ a large part of man-
kind, and without pretense of fostering genius, and
without the patronage of fortune, their story of Jesus
is certain to outlive the most brilliant and renowned
^ ^classics.''
The subject matter of this history, prhna facie, chal-
lenges our incredulity and puts upon us the necessity
of questioning its authenticity at ev^ry step of our
inquiry into its contents. Abiding, then, by the canons
of historic criticism, are we compelled to accept these
narratives as true history?
1. In the first place these biographers were well
meaning, honest gazeteers, and wrote down only what
they knew, or believed to be true.
This is frankly admitted by all, I believe, even by
those who have shown the most hostility to their record.
2. They made no pretense to scholarship or exten-
sive learning. Not one of them stood at the head of
any school of philosophy, or was prominent in any such
school. If John exhibits some traces of Neo-Platonic
influence^ he nevertheless writes down a simple narra
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 207
tive of what he saw and heard, indulging but rarely in
speculation. ^
If we except Luke and Paul, they were unsophisti-
cated peasants, untrained is histronic art, and qualified
only with good eyes and ears to see and hear, and with
a good memory to preserve the facts, and an honest
purpose to make true record of them.
Luke and Paul, with somewhat wider range of knowl-
edge, do not vary, but reaiSrm and sustain the story
throughout as given by their more illiterate fellow
biographers.
3. They all had good opportunities to know whereof
they wrote — Matthew and John especially. Their
intimate and protracted acquaintance and discipleship
with Jesus, their presence in moments of great stress
and emergency, furnished them rare opportunities to
know him — his habits and manner of life, his temper
and spirit as they appeared in the flash of his eye and
tones of his voice — and qualified them for painting the
artless picture they have given us.
4. But they could not have been free from errone-
ous beliefs and prepossession. No historian ever is.
Profound scholarship, extensive travel and commerce
with the world, a wide knowledge of the customs, hab-
its and beliefs of men, will help the historian to rise
I. It is believed by some that John oiJy furnished the matter
in substance, and that the gloss of speculation apparent in the '
work are chargeable to the compiler, who must have been an
educated Greek. (See Hawies' Christ and Christianity, page 95.)
2o8 THE NEW RELIGION.
above the level of prevailing error and prejudice, and
divest him of the narrower views of his countrymen;
but these authors had neither large scholarship nor
large commerce with the world, nor a wide knowledge
of the customs and beliefs of other peoples. As already
said, they were Jewish peasants. They breathe a com-
mon Jewish atmosphere. They have a common men-
tal furnishing made up of opinions and beliefs then
current in the public mind, which were to some extent
unavoidably woven into their story.
5. And then, too, they were, and the fact must not
be forgotten, very much below and inferior to their
Master, whose life they seek to reproduce. This is
always and everywhere apparent. They found it diffi-
cult to understand him. Often they could not under-
stand him at all, as they frankly afterward confess.
Often they misinterpreted him as they afterward dis-
cover and confess. He led the way; they simply
followed, often utterly surprised and confounded be-
cause of what they saw and heard. He spake with
self-assertion and authority. With hesitating surprise
and humility they listened and treasured up in memory.
Twenty to forty years afterward they wrote down what
they could.
But they wrote wiser than they knew. The deep
truths, the moral and spiritual significaiice and pro-
found wisdom of what they somewhat mechanically
wrote down has furnished themes for study by thq
^wisest and best through the ages, and yet chaUeuge^
I'eji^.W^d ^i}4 qgptiB^^d investigation.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 209
6. We are not to suppose their own views and faith
were free from errors of belief, nor does this conclusion
rest on any apparent discrepancies in their respective
accounts. There are some such discrepancies, but
they are not material. They affect the general account
little more than to prove that there was no servile
copying, no collusion to palm off a fiction upon the
public. These errors were errors of Old Testament
exegesis, errors in the comprehension of figures of
speech, of tropes and allegories, in resting in the letter
and not perceiving the true meaning beyond it. Of
some of these errors the Master frequently sought to
disabuse them but could not. Knowledge of the truth
had to await the revelations of time.
That they finally caught his true meaning, and put
down just those words which would convey it to the
generations that were to follow is hardly probable.
They have left us a remarkable record, a record
made in all honesty of purpose, and bequeathed it to us
for our interpretation in the light of larger knowledge
and better opportunities.
So much, it seems in candor, it is necessary to
grant and predicate concerning these biographers of
the Son of Man — Son of God.
While, then, we accept the history of the founder of
Christianity, as given us by these authors, let us avoid
the too prevalent practice of ascribing to him teach-
ings and doctrines which they have not reported as
his, and which in fact h^ye b^en improperly ascribe^]
to him b^ ptbejr§,
2IO THE NEW RELIGION.
In order to a correct comprehension of the Chris-
tian system, it has been the custom to consult, not
only the Evangelists and Apostles, but the Church
and Church Fathers as well. The ''Church,'" so
called, assuming to be the embodiment of the Chris-
tian Religion, has claimed to be its authoritative
expounder; but it has made sad work of it.
The Church proper took form after the departure of
Jesus Christ from among men. It grew up under the
supervision of the ^ ^Twelve" and Paul, and the
Fathers. Some of these have been canonized as
authority in matters of religion, and their teaching is
held sacred. Whatever views and doctrines they,
and , the expounding church, in council assembled,
expressed or endorsed, as judges of the Christian
Canon, has been credited to, or charged upon, Chris-
tianity. They have thus becom_e factors in the popu-
lar estimate of the Christian system. Christianity is
no longer the embodiment of the principles and
teachings of its Founder, as illustrated by his life, but,
the principles and teachings of the ^ ^Apostles and
Prophets, Jesus Christ being but the Chief Corner-
Stone." Still later, and now, it is that embodiment
of doctrines and principles which are represented and
set forth by the organized church.
If we would make a proper estmiate of the New
Religion, as distinguished from the Old Religions, we
must differentiate it, not only from the mass of specu-
lation and dogma which preceded it, but also from
that which has been foisted upon it, and interwoven
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 211
with, by subsequent teachers and councils. It is
obviously just and proper to judge the Founder of
Christianity, and Christianity itself^ by what he taught
and sanctioned rather than by what others have taught
concerning him and his teaching. As to matters of
historic fact, we must accept the statements of his
biographers; but, as to the drift and significance of
what he taught, none are to be trusted as supreme
authority, not even the Apostles themselves, and
much less the later Fathers and Church Councils.
"The first century of the Christian era produced a large number
of literary works, beyond those contained in the New Testament;
and such of these works as were of genuine Apostolic origin, or
were faithful representatives of Christian truth, must be sepa-
rated and recognized apart from all others. There was no distinct
dividing line to be drawn. The division did not make or suggest
itself. The whole body of works might be graded from Matthew
down to the most gross and contemptible product of superstition,
but the stages were gradual all the way. Different persons
differed in their comparative estimates (of the several produc-
tions) though they agreed in the general range of estimate.
Down to the middle of the second century the Christians used
the Old Testament for their apologetics and their polemics. We
do not find in any writers earlier than Irenaeus, A. D. 202, refer-
ences to the New Testament writings as authoritative, or inspired
in any such sense as the Old Testament was believed to be
inspired. The books were collected and studied and compared,
and their respective authority determined. The informal verdict
of the Church accepted certain books, and rejected others, but
there were a num.ber which were on the line or in doubt, as the
Epistle of Jude, the second of Peter, the second and third of John,
the Epistles to the Hebrews, etc."l
1. W. G. Summer, in Johnson's Cyclopedii, Art. Bible
^12 THE NEW RELIGION.
The Council of Nice, A. D. 325, has the honor of
nearly completing the Christian Canon as we have
it now, though it was not formally declared complete
until Pope Innocent, A. D. 405, fixed the Canon by
decree as it now stands.^
But by this time great changes had been wrought
in the status and methods of the New Religion.
Jesus had taught that his kingdom is not of this
world — does not depend upon wealth or political
power. It had its place in the transformed lives of
his disciples.
But under date of A. D. 325 it was different.
The church, under Constantine, had become great
and powerful. It dictated policies and made emper-
ors. It held the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven —
could forgive and retain the sins of men. Without
its pale men could not be saved — at least such were
the preposterous claims made by the ecclesiastics
who assembled to sit in judgment upon the sacred
canon.
The Council of Nice VN^as the first Ecumenical. It
was probably fairly representative, but it is very pos-
sible that those comprising it were hardly qualified
for such a task. Some of them were ambitious of
place and power, many of them were selfish, some
of them were tools in the hands of unscrupulous
leaders, and all of them liable to mistake. It is very
possible that they failed to properly represent the
I. In loco cit.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 21 3
Founder of Christianity in his teaclmig^ as they cer-
tainly failed to exhibit his spirit in the bitter contest
they waged with each other in that council.
King Asoka, the Indian Constantine, had to remind
the assembled priests at the great council which he
had called to settle the Buddhist Canon, that what
was said by Buddha, that alone was well said'^ but the
Christian Constantine enjoined no such limitation
upon the Council of Nice. Did the members of this
great council incorporate nothing of doubtful inspira-
tion? Were the doctrines which they approved and
put upon record just such as the Master himself had
delivered, or fairly deducible from them? Must we
accept the compact organization then recognized as
the '^Church," with its claims of power to forgive and
to retain sins — to bind and to loose the souls of men,
and its assumption of authority to punish heresy with
faggot and flame — as the authorized expounder of
Christian faith and doctrine? Shall we go to this
council and a teaching church for the contents of
Christianity? Or to the Founder of the Christian
religion himself, as he has been presented by the
historian?
The earliest expounders of Christianity did not, like
the present Pope, claim infallibility. Even Paul and
Peter could not always agree, nor did Paul and Barna-
bas. The Apostles respectively had their peculiar views,
but they all gave admirable proof that they had been
I. Max Mueller, Science of Religion, p. 138.
214 THE NEW RELIGION.
with Jesus and learned of him. The best and most
influential of the Church Fathers, whose memories
we revere, were farther removed from the fountain
head of Christian truth, and, having to depend more
upon interpretation and construction, were more liable
than the Apostles to err, as they themselves give
ample proof.
At any rate, we cannot conclude that their authority
was such as to preclude criticism and silence doubt.
Alas! under the reign of unquestioning credulity,
following myth and miracle, and theological specula-
tion, Christianity has been led, no one can tell how
far, into the wilderness of legend and superstition.
The church is a human institution — very human in
many of its features. It has dictated creeds and doc-
trines and dogma, some of which accord with the
teaching of the Founder of Christianity and some do
not; and so true is this, that at least the old Roman
and Greek churches cannot be regarded as admissible
expounders of Christianity.
But did not Luther and the Reformation cut away
from the church unwarranted accretions and restore
Christianity to its pristine simplicity and purity? Let
us see. They discarded and denounced the practice
of selling indulgences; they rejected the Pope's claim
1. We cannot cut the gospels loose from their historical basis
and hope to retain long the ideal beauty and truth of Christianity.
We must have the root implanted in the earth before we can
have the fragrance in the air. — Smyth, "Old Faiths in New
Lights."
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 215
of authority to forgive and to retain sins. They
replaced his authority by that of the Bible as the
revealed Word of God, maxing it the infallible arbiter
in matters of religion. They restored the Bible to the
hands of the people, and proclaimed the right of
private opinion; and all this was much for reason and
the cause of religious liberty. And then, too, it must
be conceded the ^^Reformation" set on foot by
Luther, passed be37ond him, in departing from the
errors of the Old Church. Christian people, exer-
cising the right of private judgment in matters of
religion, split into numerous sects, each claiming for
itself some particular virtue of doctrine or of church
government. But yet a great majority of all Protes-
tants, always agreed, and yet agree, in accepting the
teaching of the Roman Catholic Church as to all the
fundamentals of doctrine and dogma as they came
from her teachers and were adopted by her councils.
They always agreed and yet agree in accepting the
doctrine of atonement as formulated by Anselm, A.
D. 1 100, and substantially the whole creed as made
up A. D. 451, by the Council of Chalcedon, i,ooo
years before Luther was bor
'Tf doctrines have been propagated in the name of
Christianity which are absurd, irrational and impos-
sible, it has been because the system of Christian
truth has been misunderstood, and revelation misin-
terpreted. That this has been so many times it is
impossible to doubt. "^
I. Bishop Foster, in Studies in Theology, Vol. 2, p. 268.
:2l6 THE NEW RELICION.
If we abide by the life and teachings of the Lord
Jesus Christ, as set forth by his biographers, we shall
not go far astray, nor fail to comprehend the essence
and substance of all that constitutes the New Religion;
and this it is our purpose to do without the least
desire to discredit other canonical authorities.
CHAPTER XX.
The Christ Character.
The Christ,
It is confessedly difficult to say anything of Jesus
the Christ, which has not already been said, and per-
haps controverted — difficult to avoid controversy where
controversy of all things is the most worthless.
Jesus, who has just been baptized, is fairly before the
public, and the marvel of history has begun. *^And
there came a voice from heaven saying, ^Thou art my
beloved Son.' " So says Mark, chapt. i:ii. So,
substantially, says Luke, chapt. 3-22. So says Mat-
thew, chapt. 3:17. So also John the Baptist is
reported as saying, John, chapt. 1:33, 34. Jesus is
thus repeatedly and distinctly set forth as the Son of
God.
Some years afterward, according to his biographers,
when upon the mount of transfiguration, the same
announcement was repeated: '^And behold a voice
out of a cloud, saying, this is viy beloved Son in whom
I am well pleased." Matt, chapt. 17: 5. This is my
beloved Son. Mark 9: 7. This is my Son — my
chosen, hear ye him. Luke 9: 25.
All his biographers thus start out with a very
unique and wonderful subject.
2l8 THE NEW RELIGION.
Of his life previous to his baptism we known next
to nothing.
After this, according to the chronologists, he hved
but about three years, and was crucified as a male-
factor.
Usually he spoke of himself as ^^the Son of Man."
Occasionally he claimed to be the ^'Son of God," or,
^^a Son of God."
Son of Man — Son of God, and so declared by a voice
from heaven. How can this be? Do we step at once
from terra firma into wonder-land. Must we at once
betake ourselves to myth and legend — to '^faith and
mystery ?"
Well, let us realize that a most unique and wonder-
ful character lies in the record of four books before us
— books written by well accredited honest men. More
than this, this character stands forth in the record of
nineteen centuries of the world's history and challenges
our notice — our criticism. It cannot be ignored. //
must be accounted for.
We have the account of his biographers on this
wise — He was ^ ^begotten of the Holy Ghost and born
of a virgin!" Luke i: 35. '^The Word was made
flesh and dwelt among us. " Jno. i: 14. An incar-
nation! Well, the Brahmin has had nine incarnations
of Vishnu and expects another. Is this incarnation to
take rank with those of the Brahmin? No matter
now.
The following is Luke's account: ''The angel
Gabriel was sent from God to a Nazarene virgin
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 219
named Mary, who was betrothed to a man whose
name was Joseph; and the angel came in unto her
and said, Hail thou that art highly favored; the Lord
is with thee. But she was greatly troubled at the
saying, and cast in her mind what manner of saluta-
tion this might be. And the angel said unto her,
Fear not, Mary, for thou has found favor with God;
and behold, thou shalt conceive and bring forth a son,
and shalt call his name Jesus. And Mary said unto
the angel, how shalt this be, seeing I know not a
man? And the angel said unto her, the Holy Ghost
shall come upon thee, and the power of the highest
shall overshadow thee, wherefore also that which is to
be born shall be called holy — the Son of God.'^ — Luke
1 : 26, et seq.
But you say, in the face of Matthew and Luke,
preposterous! a wild legend, another avatar of
Vishnu, the dream of some poet's fancy. It cannot
be history — brush it aside.
But grant, if you will for a moment, that it is his-
tory— that these unsophisticated, truth-loving authors
have given us facts^, grant that such a genesis and
birth actually transpired, would the life that followed
have been different? Remember a most wonderful
life is upon the pages of history and niust be accounted
for. Do we know enough of the resources of the all-
creating power to say that a son, an ^^only Son," sui
generis, could not be thus started into being and sent
upon a mission.'^
But truly, it all seems very strange — very improba-
220 THE NEW RELIGION.
ble — yes. However, if you will, let us take this
account of these honest, well-meaning men in hand,
and follow this remarkable child into history. The
mystery we enter is a deep one, it is conceded, but
let us be candid and proceed.
Jesus, recognized as a man, was for years scarcely
distinguishable from other men. ^^Is he not the car-
penter's son, and his brethren, are they not with us?"
Matt. 13: 55. But, from the date of his baptism, his
life became more and more remarkable. He rapidly
took on modes of thought and conduct that excited
attention and partisan opposition. He evidently felt
that he had a great mission to fulfill, and went
directly to his work, Poor^ humble, unknown to
fame, he yet evinced a dignity of conduct and authori-
tative mien and method of teaching which commanded
respect and the most serious attention. He soon
became distinguished by gravity of character and self-
assertion, and for certain great cures and miracles
which he wrought, while at the same time he mani-
fested the greatest humility in consorting with the
poor and suffering, and evincing the deepest sympa-
thy with them. His criticism of existing customs,
and especially those of the wealthy classes, was
unsparing; his doctrines were novel and trenchantly
stated. His power as a great moral and religious
reformer soon began to be felt. His manner was
always kind and affectionate, even toward the lowest
and meanest outcasts from society, his temper geutl^
^nd s^^et;, tiis lif§ p, b^nedigtigrif
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 221
He did many wonderful things, mostly for the needy
and suffering — ^ ^miracles" they were called, and his
fame spread rapidly abroad. The populace began to
throng around him, and such was the obvious common
sense of his teaching that ^^the common people heard
him gladly. '*
He had a mission. The angel said to Joseph, ^^He
shall save his people from their sins." It was to
inaugurate a new regime, to open up and establish
among men the Kingdom of God, not another Jewish
theocracy, but such a kingdom as had been fore-
shadowed, but never understood, by the old prophets.
Accordingly he began by announcing the immediate
coming of '^the Kingdom of Heaven." Matt. 4: 17.
Scribe and Pharisee, Priests and Sanhedrim — all the
hoary institutions of the Jewish religion, stood in his
way, and the bitter contest which followed and which
culminated in his death on the cross, is begun.
In the mean time, a college of twelve apostles is
chosen, who become his constant companions. He
boldly denounces error and sin, discomfits scribe and
lawyer and priest, reviews the law of Moses, pointing
out its errors, and insists that it is the first duty of
men not to tithe their mint, and anise, and cumin,
and mechanically -^bey Moses, but to repent of their
sins and seek thet ,igdom of Heaven. The storm of
religious opposition soon ragesi around him, Nothing
daunt^dj and r^ever losing his temper, he proclaims
the solenjn tr^th, so damaging to the Jews as a
jl^tion^ ^nd the Jewish institutions, and, at the ^anie
222 THE NEW RELIGION.
lime, so new and wonderful as to excite the profound-
est interest in all who heard him.
But the marvel of his life and conduct becomes more
marvelous.
He heals the sick, casts out devils, restores sight to
the blind and hearing to the deaf, and even raises the
dead again to life! At least, so it is reported, and so
it is believed — reported by four biographers, good
men and true, reported by the college of twelve apos-
tles, reported by other contemporaries, including
Paul, and not denied even by his bitterest enemies.
Of course his fame spread abroad. Men everywhere
marveled, saying, among other things, ^'What man-
ner of man is he?'*
Teaching — speaking such words of wisdom as never
man spake, encouraging the poor and outcast, and
aiding the needy and suffering by helpful ministries,
and exhibiting a pure and spotless life which ever
seemed to flow from exhaustless fountains of love, he
went down to death as a malefactor amid his wonder-
stricken countrymen.
But the end is not yet. The mystery deepens in
the record of these four books.
The life you behold has never been approached in
its principal characteristics. His self-assertion and
exercise of authority on the one hand, and his evident
humility and sympathy with the poorest and lowest of
men on the other, have amazed men. His acts and
his words were, respectively, a series of perpetual sur-
prises, but always tending to deepen the impression gf
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 223
his essential goodness. He taught with a well poised
authority that none could resist, and few could ques-
tion. The most startling announcements fell in quick
succession from his lips — announcements that crossed
all previous lines of thought, and turned professional
moralists and theologians upon their heads. His
criticism of the Law of Moses, and his interpretation
of Holy Writ; his pretensions to authority, as dictating
a higher law and inaugurating a new moral and relig-
ious order; his power displayed in miracle, and his
asserted kin-ship and communion with God, confounded
the most credulous, and the most friendly, and chal-
lenged universal skepticism.
^^I am the way, the truth, and the life. '^ John 14:
6. ^^I am the vine, ye are the branches." John 15:
5. i' * * without me ye can do nothing. " ^^I and
my Father are one." John 10: 30. ^^Who hath seen
me hath seen the Father." John 14: 9. *^A11 power
is given to me, both in heaven and in earth." Matt.
28: 18. What pretensions are these? How border-
ing upon the insane to be made by a poor peasant
without the prestige of rank, or position, or learning!
At one time he so grew upon public favor that they
wanted to take him and make him king, John 6: 15,
but he refused! After the great temptation, he never
felt the touch or pressure of political ambition or
worldly fame. But by the magic of his easy presence
he attracted men to closest sympathy and fellowship.
Social, genial, free from prejudice and caste and cant,
he went about doing good to all, finding opportunity of
224 THE NEW RELIGION.
course most frequent among the suffering and forlorn
poor. In short, he was at once so hke and so unlike
other men, as to confuse and confound the most saga-
cious student of human nature.
But the mystery deepens. He has come into con-
flict with religious bigotry and intolerance. He shrinks
from no responsibility and no danger. Scribe and
Pharisee are wrought into frenzy. They curl the lip of
scorn, and mutter threats. It is not strange that he
should anticipate violence at their hands — that he
should say to his disciples: ^^The Son of Man shall
be betrayed into the hands of men, and they shall kill
hira.'^ Matt. 17: 22. It was but the anticipation of
that foresight which comprehended the impending
danger. But, when he added, "And the third day he
shall rise again.'' ^ What then? Rise again! Rise
again ! ! What could this mean ?
But on occasions he reiterates the declaration with
particularity of detail and circumstance. What hallu-
cination can it be! Does his insanity grow upon him?
His biographers afterward admit they did not
— could not — understand what this ^'rising again'' on
the third day can mean.
But sure enough, the Son of Man ere long is betrayed
into the hands of sinful men. They kill him, and on
the third day he rises from the dead. At least, all his
biographers say so. All the Apostles say so. They
had seen him tried and condemned. They had seen
him expire on the cross — had seen him buried, and
yet they all affirm that he did rise again^ and they ^re
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 225
all honorable and truthful men — except Judas. Very
many others, including Paul, say he rose again.
They do not say he rose again on mere report, or
public rumor. The}^ say, we know it, for we have
seen him. And he took special pains to prove it to
us, Luke 24: 39-43, to identify himself as the risen
Lord. He talked with them, ate with them, traveled
with them, Mark 16: 12, made appointments to meet
them, Mark i6: 7, reminded them of what he had
taught before his crucifixion and supplemented it by
additional teaching. He banished every doubt, even
from the mind of the skeptical Thomas, Jno. 20: 27,
that he had on the third day risen again. He was
seen by the two Marys, and Joanna and other women,
Luke 24: 10. He was seen by two disciples going to
Emmaus, Luke 24: 15, 31. He was seen by the col-
lege of apostles, Luke 24: 36, to whom he showed
himself alive after his passion *^by many infallible
proofs, being seen of them forty days, and speaking of
the things pertaining to the Kingdom of God." Acts
i: 3. He was seen by ten apostles in an upper
room, Jno. 20: 30, and again by the eleven, Mark
16: 14, and Jno. 20: 26. He was seen by seven
apostles at the Sea of Tiberias, Jno. 21: 12, and by
the eleven on a mountain in Gallilee. Matt. 28: 17.
Paul, who was so profoundly impressed by the
incredible fact that he never ceased to talk of it, and
to preach it, says ^^he was seen by more than 500 at
once, and, last of all, he was seen by me also ae one
born out of due time," i Cor. 15: 5-8*
226 THE NEW RELIGION.
How now, shall we brush the story asl^e? Or, is
the Son of Man — Son of God — begotten of the Holy
Ghost and born of a virgin — outgrowing his humanity?
But the mystery deepens. Before his crucifixion
Jesus had said to his disciples, *^1 came forth from
the Father and am come into the world.'' ^^Again I
leave the world and go to the Father." Jno. i6: 28.
''Yet a little while I am with you, and then I go unto
him that sent me." Jno. 7: 33. But he was too
much above them. They could not comprehend his
meaning.
Very soon after his resurrection he said to Mary,
who was the first to recognize him, ''Go to my breth-
ren and say to them 'I ascend to my Father and to
your Father, to my God and to your God.' " Jno.
20: 17. But how dark was all this! Forty days
after his resurrection, from the midst of a group of
his disciples, on Mount Olivet, having said, as they
afterward remembered, "If I be lifted up, I will draw
all men after me," (Jno. 12: 32,) he was taken up
and a cloud received him out of their sight! Mark
16: 19; Acts i: 19; Luke 24: 51.
And all this strange story is told continuously of
him who was said to have been begotten of the Holy
Ghost, a'nd Avas born of Mary; who was baptized by
John, and announced from Heaven as the Son of God
— of him who lived as an humble peasant on terms of
familiarity and affection with his associates, "ate with
publicans and sinners," Matt. 9: 10, went about
doing ^'ood among the poor and needy — all is said of
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 227
him who stood innocent and silent in the judgment
hall, acquitted and yet condemned by Pilate, put to
death by a mob, praying with his last breath for
his murderers — ^ ^Father, forgive them, for they know
not what they do," and at last raised from the dead
and taken to Heaven!! What now? The skeptical
Thomas exclaimed, in the crucial hour of his doubt,
^^My Lord and my God!''
What conception of his character is possible? Can
contrarity take on the color of consistency? The pano-
rama passes and all parallels disappear. In the
record of these four books he stands forth an unsolved
mystery — an abiding wonder character, yrt challeng-
ing alike our faith and our skepticism.
But can we not brush the incredible story aside as a
dream of some disordered fancy — as a myth born some-
where in the realm of fancy? Was not Romulus
miraculously saved by a wolf? and, afterwards, did not
a whirlwind and cloud take him up out of sight? Was
not Sakya Mouni the son of a prince, a hermit in the
wilderness, a great preacher of new doctrines, born as
many times ^^as there are leaves in the forest," then
enthroned as a god and worshipped as Buddha? No.
We cannot brush aside this story as we do the
legends about Romulus and Sakya Mouni
The whole life of Romulus is prehistoric. He
emerges as a myth in an age of myths. He has little
place in what pretends to be history. There is
scarcely a trace of him to be found in the institutions
or the thought of the world.
228 THE NEW RELIGION.
And Sakya Mouni, too, is prehistoric. His reputed
high birth, his strange and unnatural Hfe as a recluse
in the wilderness, are stories from the legendary past.
Tradition has delivered him to us as a great reformer.
The legend breaks down under the weight of utter
improbability, and it may well be doubted whether
the traditional Buddha ever had a personal existence.
There is no reliable proof of it — not a syllable.
We brush aside these stories, but the story of Jesus
we cannot brush aside.
Jesus came upon the stage in the ^ ^fulness of the
time,'' (Gal. 4: 4,) in the palmy days of Roman civili-
zation. History had already enshrined the learning
and the arts of Greece. The genius of her statesmen,
her philosophers, her orators and poets, stood full-
orbed in the zenith of her glory. Augustus was upon
the throne. It was ^ ^Rome's golden age." History
and criticism never commanded greater ability nor
wrought better results. It was no time for imposi-
tion upon public credulity. The disappointed and
chagrined Jew was the sworn enemy of the Son of
Man, and stood ready to expose and suppress
him.
We cannot brush this story aside, because we know
those who presented it to us. We know where they
lived and how they did. We know Peter and James
and John as well as we know Solon or Seneca or
Epictetus. We know Paul and Luke as well as we
know Cicero and Pliny. And we know them, too, to
be every way as trustworthy. Nor did what they say
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 229
of Jesus, let it be remembered, drift down through
dim centuries of tradition and superstition.
One of the twelve whom he had chosen betrayed his
Master and then hanged himself. Within a few days
after the departure of Jesus, the remaining eleven
thought best to choose a successor to ^^Judas" ^^from
among those," said Peter, ^^who have companied
with us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and
out among us, from the time he was baptized of John,
until he was taken up from us." (Acts i: 21, 26.)
Why? What for? ''To be an eye-witness with us of
his resurrection,'^
The facts are spread abroad among the Jews.
Within a few days we have the Pentecost; and Peter,
standing up with the eleven (Acts 2: 14, et seq.),
said to the very men v/ho had planned and executed
the crucifixion, ^^Ye men of Judea, and all ye that dwell
at Jerusalem, be this known unto you and hearken to
my words. * * Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of
God among you by the miracles and wonders and
signs which God did by him, in the midst of you, as
ye yourselves know, being delivered, '^ "^ ye have taken,
and, by wicked hands, have crucified and slain, whom
God hath raised up, having loosed the pains of death
— this Jesus hath God raised up, whereof we are all
witnesses. ' '
Was this appeal to matters of fact denied? Was
this home thrust resisted? Was this the setting of a
myth? the style and jugglery of an imposter? Why
did not the crafty officials who had just compassed his
230 THE NEW RELIGION.
death, Instead of being * ^pricked in their hearts and
crying out, men and brethren, what shall we do?" —
why did they not face Peter and denounce the whole
story as false?
Within two years Paul is converted (Acts 26: 13),
and with full knowledge of the facts, not only endorses
the story as true, but makes it the basis of his preach-
ing everywhere throughout the most remarkable and
successful gospel ministry ever accomplished.
Within eight years the story of this unique and
superhuman character, attested by hundreds and
thousands of ardent disciples, spreads over Judea and
out into Syria, and a church is organized at Antioch,
taking the name of Christiaii. Acts 1 1 : 26. Where
is there time or place for myth and legend? Could a
myth be born in a day, and be made to play such a
roll, at such a time, in such a country, under such
circumstances?
We cannot — the great Strauss could not — brush
aside this story. It is too much rooted in the history
of the time and in all subsequent history.
Whence the mighty changes that gave birth to our
Anno Domine calendar? Whence the ideal character
which, says Mr. Leckey, ^ ^through all the changes of
eighteen centuries, has inspired the hearts of men
with an impassioned love, lias shown itself capable of
acting on all ages, nations and temperaments and
conditions, has been not only the highest pattern of
virtue, but the strongest incentive to its practice, and
has exercised so deep an influence that it may be
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 23I
truly said that the simple record of three short years
of active life has done more to regenerate and soften
men than all the disquisitions of philosophers, and all
the exhortations of moralists.^
What, kind reader, can we say now of this remarka-
ble child, said by Matthew and Luke to have been
begotten of the Holy Ghost and born of a virgin?
Could his career have been what it was on any other
hypothesis?
Nineteen centuries have failed to give us any other
or better account of the ^^Son of Mary" than that
given by the unsophisticated peasants whom he chose
to follow him; and, however overwhelmed by anoma-
lous character-phenomena, we are yet face to face
with a broad necessity that compels his acceptance as
a genuinely historical character, which we cannot, if
we would, displace from the record of events. His
place in history as a great reformer, as the founder of
the Christian system, as one that has influenced the
world as no one ever did or could, mtcst be conceded.
Grant that Jesus was begotten of the Holy Ghost and
born of a woman, as these authors agree in assuring
us, we miust then expect a superhuman career. It
would border on the grotesque and ludicrous to
claim such a parentage for an ordinary or purely
human life.
But accepting the account given, and the life and
character of the Son of Man could consistently be what
I. History of European Morals, Vol. 2, p. 9.
232 THE NEW RELIGION.
they are represented to be — what we see them to be,
standing out in nineteen centuries of past history —
symmetrical in their origin and in their end? Does
not such a career as that of Jesus Christ, impHcitly
assert and require something superhuman in his
origin?
But, while some have had difficulty in going so far
with the Evangelists as to believe that Jesus was
really the Son of God, there are others who hasten
away to the other extreme and hold him to be ^^very
and truly God," * ^co-equal with the Father," in all
the attributes of Omniscience, Omnipotence and
Omnipresence.
There have always been two classes of men. Those
of one class are more reverent, more inclined to
believe and to trust. They are ever ready to follow
leaders and to exalt them. They make heroes and
canonize saints.
Those of the other class are more egoistic. They
have more personal individuality. They are the last
to exalt leaders or to canonize saints.
It would be very natural for the former, and they are
largely in the majority, to ^'magnify the Lord," to
sink the human and exalt the divine, in the character
of the Son of God. And it would be as natural for
the latter to eliminate the supernatural, to sink the
divine and exalt the human. Accordingly the two
classes make up very different opinions as to the origin
and nature of the Founder of Christianity, and very
different opinions as to doctrines and creeds.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 233
The former are fairly represented by the Council of
Chalcedon, A. D. 451, which has the honor of com-
pleting the formula of Christian doctrine, as held ever
since by all orthodox churches, Catholic and
Protestant.
The article relating to the nature of the Christ, as
formulated by this Council, is given as follows by
Prof. Schedd:^ Jesus Christ is perfect as respects
Godhood, and perfect as respects manhood. He is
truly God and truly man, consisting of a rational soul
and body. He was begotten of the Father before
creation, as to his Deity; but in these last days he
was born of Mary, the mother of God, as to his
humanity. He is one Christ existing in two natures,
without mixture, without change, without division,
without separation, the diversity of the two not being
at all destroyed by their union in the person, but the
peculiar properties of each nature being possessed,
and concurring to one person and one substance.
It must be admitted that a large majority of all pro-
fessing Christians during all the fifteen following cen-
turies of the history of Christianit}^, have accepted
this view, and a large majority still accept and hold it;
and this is admitting much in its favor.
Of those who have not been able to accept this
view of Christ's essential deity, there are various
opinions as to his nature and comparative divinity,
ranging from those of Arius to those of Channing and
other Unitarians.
I. Johnston's Cyclop., Art, Christology.
234 '^^^ ^^^ RELIGION.
Without desiring to extend a discussion which
promises so Httle in the way of practical utiHty, I can
see no reason for taking issue with the account given
by his four biographers as plainly given.
If indeed he were begotten of the Holy Ghost, and
born of a virgin, then were he both the Son of Man
and the Son of God. The Son participates in the
nature of both parents — this is physiological law as we
know it.
If this law is to hold universally — and we believe in
the uniformity of nature — Jesus was both the Son of
God and the Son of Man, and we shall find that his
life and mission fit unto this view better than into
any other and is consistent throughout. If this view
thus presented by the Evangelists be the true one,
then this Son of Man, Son of God, belongs properly
neither to the genits homo nor to the ge?ius deus. He
1*^ sui generis — the ''only begotten son^^' and born to a
larger sphere of activity than the merely human — to a
specific mission and destiny; and this obviously
accords with the authoritative declaration, ^^God so
loved the world that he gave his only begotten son
that whosoever believeth in him should not perish,
but have everlasting life," (Jno. 3: i6)-^-a purpose
and mission one may well think too great to be
entrusted to a mere man.
CHAPTER XXI.
Jesus an Exemplar.
However the life and character of the Son o^ Man
ma}^ impress us as being somehow above the human,
especially in their later phases, there can be no doubt
that for the most part of his earthly career he lived
as a man among men, and that as such he is best
known to history.
Those who feel compelled to regard him as merely
the highest style of a man, excelling others only in
his superior moral and spiritual development, say,
and with reason, that so regarded his life would be
more really exemplary and inspiring than it could be
if he should be considered in any degree superhuman,
and especially so if he is regarded as very God.
Without wishing to detract from the merits of this
view, I think it may be said that any one who should
be able to resist all temptation, as he did, and live a
life of ideal perfection, be he ever so human, could
hardly be looked upon by his more imperfect fellows
otherwise than as possessing some advantages of
birth or education or environment which had been
denied to themselves. If to be a true and helpful
exemplar, one must live on the same plane, and havg
236 • THE NEW RELIGION.
the sam^ infirmities, that those who would follow
have, then it may well be doubted whether our best
men may be held up as exemplars; for there can be
no doubt that there are hereditary differences among
men, and that the inborn tendencies to vice in some
are much stronger than in others. Success under
great difficulties and temptations is always inspiring,
and this the devoted son of Mary most gallantly
achieved.
It is much that he placed before us an ideal charac-
ter, even though he had superior powers, especially as
we know that in any just estimate of our characters,
due allowance will and must be made for any disad-
vantages or weakness we had suffered.
However this may be, the Lord Jesus certainly
gave full proof that he was capable of the most human
feelings and sympathies. What could be more tender
and touching than his oft-repeated generous ministries
among the poor and suffering? What more beautiful
than the interest and affection he manifested toward
the little ones which fond mothers familiarly pre-
sented to him, or the ready and unqualified appreci-
ation of the penitent, even among the lowest and most
abandoned. In the case of the frail woman taken in
adultery could the mercy have been larger, or the
sympathy deeper, or the encouragement to a better
life stronger, had the verdict, ^ ^neither do I condemn
thee, go and sin no more," come from the most
human lips? In all these early years of his life he was
not in the habit of going where others could not hope
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 237
to follow. He went in easy intercourse among all
classes — among publicans and sinners, eating and
drinking with them, proof of born companionship.
He sought opportunities, as any others could, to
render assistance to the needy. He taught men, as
best he could, to walk in the pathway of duty, him-
self always living in such a way as that he could sa}^,
follow me. Was Socrates or Seneca, Marcus Aure-
lius or Epictetus a more approachable, a more inspir-
ing exemplar?
Unlike the Brahmin Yogin, the Buddhist recluse,
or the Mohammedan Fakir, he lived, apparently at
least, on the same plane with other men, and on terms
of the most familiar intercourse. If he attained to
greater heights of moral and spiritual power and per-
fection than others, he never failed to leave behind
him an example of unaffected humility and charming
companionship, from which the weakest of mortals
could draw inspiration and hope. It is much that he
gave us an ideal toward which we may aspire, much
that he gave it form and setting in purely human con-
ditions, and, if he appear superhuman at all, he does
so scarcely less in the elegant finesse and charm of
his fellow-like experience, and the delicate and inspir-
ing touches of the humane, always so characteristic of
his intercourse among men, than in what he did in
the more inexplicable denouements of his career.
If, in the later developments of life among men, he
outgrew his humanity more and more, he yet breathed
the atmosphere of human life and shed upon his dis-
238 THE NEW RELIGION.
ciples and friends the fragrance of the most tender and
affectionate sympathy.
But his career as an exemplar is ended. Behold
the Son of God! Inexplicable, astounding phenomena
are now witnessed; authoritative, sententious teach-
ing, strange predictions concerning himself, his trans-
figuration! his death and resurrection! What shall we
say but that he is passing beyond the outermost range
of human infirmity, to the realization of his higher life
as the Son of God? And then opens that wonderful
Epiphany of fort}^ days, during which he glided so
lightly along the borders of the infinite, until he
ascended ^'to my Father and to your Father, to my
God and to your God.''
CHAPTER XXII.
Jesus a Teacher.
As a teacher of men, wise and capable, Jesus is
winning more and more the confidence of the world.
If he ever did wrong, or made mistakes, the fact has
not been authenticated.
^^Wisdom," said Solomon, ^^is the principal thing,"
but by wisdom he meant, no doubt, a great deal more
than mere knov/ledge. He meant that capacity of
wise choice and prudence which keep men from mak-
ing mistakes and falling into hurtful errors.
The Son of Man possessed this wisdom. He has a
place in history, not as a philosopher, or scholar, or
statesman, but as a great teacher, nevertheless. He
was not distinguished for possessing, or, at least,
evincing wide and varied knowledge, but for possess-
ing the right kind of knowledge, and just the kind of
knowledge which always served his purpose. There
is much knowledge that is not worth the getting, and
some even the worse for having. Some very industri-
ous seekers after knowledge have made the mistake
of looking upon it as an end, whereas it is, at best,
but a means to an end. It is as incumbent upon
those seeking knowledge to inquire for what good,
cui bono, as it is for those seeking wealth, or fame, cr
240
THE NEW RELIGION.
power. But the fact is, all these classes of seekers
too generally fail to make such inquiry. Knowledge
is useful in proportion as it tends to make one wise,
and enables him to achieve results. He who makes
no mistakes will always succeed. He never stumbles
and falls, is never compelled to retreat and begin anew.
He is as wise as he needs to be, to be perfect, and
perfectly happy. He will fill up the measure of life's
duties and attain happiness, the divinely appointed
goal of life.
The Son of Man made no mistakes, and, we may
believe, completely accomplished his mission. He
went directly and continuously from Egypt to Canaan
— there were for him no forty years of weary wander-
ing in the wilderness.
We know not, nor need we care just now to know,
how it came to be that he knew more and better than
Moses, but he did. Moses had been taught the learn-
ing of Egypt, which was varied and great, he had
been on Sinai, and held secret council with the Most
High. But in'wisdom Jesus stood above him.
The lips of the Old Prophets had been ^^touched
with coals from the altar." They were accustomed
to holding converse with God. They had had strange
glimpses into the future — moments of seraphic inspira-
tion and foresight. But, somehow, the Son of Man
was yet above them. It had been well had their
teachings and warnings been heeded; and the ^^Law,"
given by Moses had its sanction from Mount Sinai.
But it remained for the son of Mary to disclose the
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 24I
true intent and full significance of the ^^Law," and
the prophetic teaching as well. Matt. 22: 40.
As given in that early age, this teaching was suited
to the capacities and needs of a peculiar people — the
conditions of that dark age. But in the ^^days of the
Son of Man" it needed modification and supplement.
The son of Mary had the penetration to see through
all, to understand all. He had no censure for Moses,
or for the prophets. But without offensive criticism
he thrust the keen blade of criticism into the Law of
Moses and the teaching of the prophets, and laid
open their defects. ^^Ye have heard it was said," *
^^butlsay," etc. Criticism, supplement. ^^Whence
hath this man this wisdom and these mighty works?"
The standard of duty, high enough for a dark age,
now needed raising. The thought of the world was
rising out of types and symbols. It was throwing
off, more and more, the external and spectacular.
The practice of rites and ceremonies, the killing of
bulls and goats, and the burning of incense, are no
longer sufficient. More enlightened men began to
feel that above and beyond this display of types and
S3^mbols there is a more spiritual realm, which all
these external and mechanical contrivances failed to
set forth. A new cultus was needed. Moral obliga-
tions must be more closely and clearly defined, a
higher standard of duty raised. But who could do it
but him, who '^spake as never man spake?"
To impart a better conception and ideal of God, to
disclose the deeper and true significance of the Mosaic
242 THE NEW RELIGION.
and prophetic teaching; to interpret and give true
meaning to the ^^commandments," to amplify the code
of prevailing ethics, and to open up the way to another
and better life, as he did, goes much farther to show
forth the wisdom of this great teacher than the apt
and overwhelming replies he made from time to time
to the astute lawyers and hypocritical bigots who so
sedulously sought to entangle him in criminal incon-
sistency. And yet, how peculiarly happy and over-
mastering were these replies. ^ ^Render unto Caesar
the things wliich are Caesar's," etc. Indeed, such
were his easy mastery in all these ^ ^passages at arms"
that ere long all became afraid of him, and no man
^ 'dared to ask him any more questions" with a view
of embarrassing him. He never became befogged
with doubt or tangled in the meshes of their casuistry.
He never lost his poise, or yielded his vantage ground.
Secure himself in the fortress of truth and conscious
rectitude, it seemed the easiest thing possible for him
to rout and discomfit his enemies and put all their
intrigues and subtility to shame and confusion.
Those who heard him were constantly surprised.
*'He spake as never man spake" — this was the
feeling.
Coming out of the moral darkness that then brooded
over the nations, he unfolded the deep things of man
and of God. He walked easily and firmly forward
where others stumbled and fell. He mounted upon
heights never before trodden, and to which men have
found it difficult to follow. The more we study him
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 243
the more profoundly convincing — the more marvelous
he becomes.
Since he taught in Gallilee the world has made
advancement in various kinds of knowledge. Has he
been found in error? Were he teaching now, would
he teach differently? Other wise men, and even philo-
sophers have been outgrown. They have been found
to be in error at points. Were they living they would
modify their teaching — would the son of Mary? So
far from it that it is becoming more evident as knowl-
edge increases that he still leads all other teachers,
even in matters scientific and philosophical, where he
made no pretensions to leadership. This may seem
to some extravagant, but most frankly, for one at
least, I believe it to be true.^
Nor must we fail to note that he always had the
courage of his convictions. Few have ever had such
courage, and these have gone to the stake with
scarcely an exception.
He looked beyond the surface. He held sham and
pretense in contempt. He taught the truth as it
stood related to the intent and purposes of the soul.
I. Above the intermediate levels of common human nature,
across the intervening distances of history, an image of solitary
majesty stands out before the mind, and the view of that sublime
character, rising from the midst of our low, monotonous human
attainments, clearly outlined against the soul's horison in its won-
derful elevation, is an inspiration and a joy, awakening the whole
moral enthusiasm of our being. Dr. Smyth, in "Old Faiths in
New Lights," p. 227.
244 THE NEW RELIGION.
He traversed prevailing customs, and with inflexible
fidelity exposed their hollowness and their iniquity.
He laid open the errors and the bigotry of syna-
gogue and Sanhedrim. He unmasked the Scribe and
Pharisee. He exposed the miserable travesty of
ethics and religion, as presented by Rabbi and priest.
His teaching went to the heart of matters ^ ^sharper
than any two-edged sword, even to the dividing
asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and mar-
row, discerning the thoughts and intents of the heart.''
Heb. 4: 12.
It was so different, so radical, and withal so damag-
ing to the pride and pretensions of men in authority
that it had within it from the first, as another has
said, ^^the shadow of the cross. "^ The narrow-
minded bigots, who had assumed to teach by authority,
could not brook the indignity his teaching implied.
Humbled, chagrined, embittered, they knew not what
more or better to do with this Gallilean peasant, who
had so presumptiously assailed their teaching and
their authority, than to kill him; and kill him they
did.
As a teacher he dealt chiefly with ethics and relig-
ion, subjects that lie very close to all the great inter-
ests of men. The truth here is too sacred to admit
of subterfuge or tampering. It must be set forth in
its simplicity and directness. He addressed himself
to the dangerous task without protection and without
I. Jos. Parker.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 245
hope of reward. Such a school had never been
opened, such a teacher the world had never had.
In the love of the truth he taught, for the love of the
truth, he was sent to the cross. No one, not even
Confucius, ever so captivated the hearts of his pupils.
None ever so comprehended the nature of man, or
opened up to him a destiny so hopeful. None ever
sustained a character so perfect. After 1,900 years
of attentive listening and careful examination, the
verdict of the world is the verdict of the Old Scribe;
**Master, thou hast well taught."
CHAPTER XXIII.
Jesus a Philanthropist.
Finally, let us indulge for a moment another view
of the more human characteristics of the Son of Man.
His biographers represent him as living a life com-
pletely dominated by love. It is the very essence and
spirit of love to help and to make happy the object
loved — to do him good in every possible way; and
this Jesus did habitually. There were none so poor
or degraded whom he did not recognize as possessing
a nature which allied them to God and made them
brothers to himself.
^^Love," said Paul, ^^suffereth long, and is kind;
love envieth not; love vaunteth not itself, is not
puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh
not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil,
rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
beareth all things;" all of which he easily read out of
the character of the exemplary Son of Man. How he
suffered long and was kind, how he bore himself
meekly and behaved himself seemly, how he sought
not his own good but that of others, endured provo-
cation, rejoiced in the truth; how he endured all
things, makes up a large part of the story of his won-
derful life.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 247
It may be thought that, in denouncing the Scribes
and Pharisees as hypocrites, he manifested a spirit of
anger and hate. Mark tells us, indeed, in so many
words, that ^'he looked round upon them with anger,
being grieved for the hardness of their hearts." But
this view does great injustice to his character.
In this denunciation, as often elsewhere, his language
is highly figurative — oriental, and his metaphors must
be taken in their meaning.
To characterize certain men as a generation of
vipers seems indeed harsh to our ears, and when he
applied this language to the Scribes and Pharisees
how shall it be understood? Not certainly as imply-
ing personal enmity. When the Baptist went preach-
ing in the wilderness he noticed among his hearers
certain Scribes and Pharisees, and turning upon them
he addressed them as a '^generation of vipers." He
used a common trope expressive of his conviction
that, though teachers and leaders of the thought of the
age, they were nevertheless egotistic and hypocritical.
It is not at all probable that he held any personal ill-will
against them. He knew of their claims to superiority,
how they gloried in being the children of Abra-
ham, and how, under all these professions, there lay
concealed, as a serpent, a thorough and blighting
selfishness, and hence his metaphor.
Precisely the same may be said of Jesus. His lan-
guage sprung not out of personal bitterness and hate,
but out of the fact, well known to himself, of their
habitual and persistent hypocrisy in posing before the
248 THE NEW RELIGION.
public as being better than they really were at heart.
^^How shall ye escape the damnation of hell?"
Terrible words, you say, are these. Can they be in
accord with the spirit of love with which he is so gen-
erally accredited? This damnation of hell can mean
nothing more than condemnation in the light of truth,
a necessary consequence of their hypocritical conduct
— a threatened result over which he felt the deepest
sorrow. That he only denounced their unreasoning
bigotry and obstinate hypocrisy, is made plain by the
term hypocrites, which he does not fail to repeat, and
by what he charges them with doing. That he
was perfectly free from personal ill-will and bit-
terness, must be admitted, since, putting these
same several parties together, he includes them in
that pathetic lament over their national capital: '^O
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how oft would I have gathered
thee together as a hen gathereth her chickens under
her wing, but ye would not." And then, in a few
days, when these same Scribes and Pharisees had suc-
ceeded in nailing him to the cross, we discover his
true feelings for them as men in his prayer on the
cross:
^'Father, forgive them, they know not what they
do!"
No one act, or any dozen, exhibits the whole moral
character of the actor. There is within the sinner a
whole world of moral capacity and goodness, which
we are liable to forget, when we see one doing what
we believe to be wrong, especially if he be an enemy
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 249
> — a fact which the Son of Man never lost sight of, and
which underhes the injunction, '^Love your enemies."
He could
* * '^- "Hate the sin
And yet the sinner love."
His fierce denunciation was leveled against their
crimes, their hypocrisy and selfishness, which must
inevitably entail upon them ^^woe! woe!" We must
let his dying prayer interpret Lis bold, earnest, faith-
ful words, when, in the very crisis of his mission he
felt it to be incumbent upon him to stand unflinch-
ingly for the truth, and to take every responsibility
which his great work involved.
If we look among the great philanthropists of his-
tory we shall find no parallel to the wonderful Son of
Man.
In a celebrated passage from Rousseau we have a
comparison between the Son of Sophroniscus, the
reputed father of moral philosophy, and the son of
Mary, the Founder of the New Religion.
They both stood by their convictions of duty in the
face of ignominy and death, and were both murdered
in consequence. Socrates approached nearer in char-
acter to Jesus than did Plato. He could see more in
man than did his illustrious pupil. He felt the pulses
of a common brotherhood which Plato did not. He
had convictions of duty toward all classes of men —
certain qualms of ccnscience which never seemed to
trouble the great Plato.
250 THE NEW RELIGION.
He had an inveterate passion for ' 'philosophizing
and testing things."
He beheved that men were in error, and his benevo-
lent interest in them prompted most assiduous efforts
to aid and help men to better views. It was a strong
conviction laid upon him by the gods. In his fidelity
to the truth as he understood it, and in his antipathy
to falsehood and pretense and shams, he was no mean
prototype of the great Gallilean, who was to follow
him. '^I choose to obey God rather than men, and
so long as I live and breathe I will never cease philo-
sophizing and exhorting any of you I may chance to
meet, as I have been wont." These were among his
last brave words.
Mr. Blackie ascribes to Socrates a '^fine erotic
passion for human beings — a divine rage for humanity, ' '
which was the inspiration of his hfe, and ''which put
into his hand the golden key to the hearts of all teach-
able men."^ If wa grant so much we must not fail to
note that this "divine rage for humanity," in Socrates,
differed very much from the "love that so loved the
world" in his successor. The one Master sought to
respond to the needs of men as he himself saw them,
and in doing so not unfrequently mortified and
offended them. The other sought more to respond to
the needs of men as they were realized iii their own
experienee,?indi in doing so elicited their love and grati-
tude as their voluntary benefactor. The philanthropy
I. Four Phases of Morals.
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 25 1
of the philosopher exhausted itself chiefly on one line
of effort for the good of men; that of the Savior took
a wide range through the whole realm of want and
suffering, and proffered every variety of needed help.
We have heard not a little of platonic love, ancient
and modern — and the modern, for the most part, is
but a sorry carricature of the ancient. As advocated
and probably experienced by Plato, it was a genuine
and pure affection. It was the attachment which
exists between highly cultured and congenial spirits.
The ideally perfect was the abstract object of this
love.
As a matter of fact, Plato's philanthropy, if such it
may be called, had severe limitations. He looked
upon the ignorant masses with little more affection or
interest than upon so many mere animals. There was
no human feeling he would not quickly sacrifice to a
cold perfection of character, suited to his ideal.
Jesus, very unlike Plato, cared little for speculative
philosophy. The happiness of mankind depends upon
the sensibilities — upon the state of the affections, more
than upon the intellect or knowledge, and he is drawn
towards men because of their capacities for happiness.
These he finds in all men — hardly less in the lowest,
than the highest, and all men, therefore, come within
the range of his beneficence.
His was a true philanthropy. It embraced human
nature as it is, with its manifold imperfections and ten-
dencies to evil. It touched every human capacity for
goodness. ^
252 THE NEW RELIGION.
Jesus saw what Plato did not see, and what very
many since his day have failed to see, that there is a
divinity within every human being, that allies him with
the divine — powers and capacities which, when properly
adjusted, qualify him for heirship in the kingdom of
heaven ; and he was drawn to him by a sympathy that
laid head, and hand, and heart, under contribution for
his bettering.
Moses was a true son of Israel, a great hero, and
more than any other gave direction and destiny to the
Hebrew people. Renowned for his learning, for his
executive ability, and for his devotion to his enslaved
countrymen, he is yet more remarkable as their great
law-giver; and, as such, displayed a wisdom that easily
places him above all other men of that distant age.
He carried his people ever on his heart. For their
sake ^'he refused to be called the son of Pharoah's
daughter." He determined to share their fate and to
perish with them, if perish they must. How he aroused
them to a sense of their condition ; how he organized
them, and eventually precipitated them, in one mighty
exodus, across the sea, into the wilderness, has come
down to us through tradition and history, and the
heroism and fidelity he displayed have no equal among
the rulers of nations.
But his great trial had not yet come. His people
had seen him giving up all for them, facing every dan-
ger, and enduring every hardship, and, if they can do
nothing else, they will, at least, thank him and be
grateful to him for giving them freedom. Alas ! They
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 253
suddenly find themselves in new relations, and begin
to demur and complain. They miss their ''leeks and
onions." They long for the ''flesh-pots of Egypt," for
which, already, they seem willing to exchange the
liberty he had procured for them at such personal cost
and danger ! They utterly apostatize — become openly
disloyal and charge him with folly for bringing them on
their way to Canaan. They give themselves over to
dissipation and idolatry, until the ire of heaven is kin-
dled and is ready to consume them. Did Moses give
the ingrate hosts of Israel over to destruction? No.
Hear him: "Ye have sinned a great sin, and now I
will go up unto the Lord, peradventure I shall make
an atonement for your sin." Very kind of you, good
Moses. And Moses returned unto the Lord and said :
"O, this people have sinned a great sin, and have
made them gods of gold, yet nov/, if thou wilt, forgive
their sin, and if thou wilt not, blot me, I pray thee,
out of thy book, which thou hast written !"
No greater love can one have for another than that
he should be willing to die for him, and this love Moses
had for his long-cherished but ungrateful people. And
that, too, was an early dark age, when such instances
of moral heroism were unknown. Generous, noble
Moses! Thou hast honored humanity. The world
will not forget thee. Thirty centuries have not dimmed
the glory that adorns thy brow.
It is to be noticed, however, that the affection of
Moses for his people is something less than the broad
philanthropy of Jesus. If, on occasions, he displayed
254 THE NEW RELIGION.
a chivalrous sense of right and justice, and a meas-
ureless love, yet his affection was Jewish in its color,
not to say limited to his own people. The extreme
measures to which he felt himself compelled to resort,
in executing his great trust, the indiscriminate slaughter
of women and children, and the utter annihilation of
opposing tribes and nations are not, at this distance
of time, to be harshly condemned. He was leading a
peculiar and remarkable people, upon whom, as history
has since proved, the well-being of subsequent gen-
erations very largely depended, out of bondage to
liberty. He was planting a harvest to be reaped and
garnered through the coming centuries. Account for
it as we may, the human race has hitherto made pro-
gress only through blood and carnage. What the dire
necessities of human progress are, who can yet tell?
Somehow he knew, or at least believed, it was God's
will and purpose that he should do as he did, bloody
and merciless as his course seemed to be. If, however,
we grant that his horrible massacres of Ammonite and
Perizite were justifiable, it will yet appear that the
human affection of Moses exhausted itself chiefly upon
his own people. His language and bearing were con-
stantly '^If ye shall diligently keep all these com-
mandments, to do them, to love the Lord your God,
to walk in all his ways, and to cleave unto him, then
will the Lord drive out all these nations from before
you, and ye shall possess greater nations and mightier
than yourselves." (Exod. ii: 22, 23.)
Jesus, too, was a son of Israel, and on occasion^
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 255
signified a peculiar attachment for his own people.
His lament over Jerusalem is a pathetic expression of
such attachment. It was but natural that he should
be drawn to a people through whom ^'AU the nations
of the earth were to be blessed." He offered them
first, ^'glad tidings of great joy," influenced, perhaps,
by his peculiar love for them, but chiefly, no doubt,
because they had the scriptures, and the promise of
the Messiah, and he, therefore, might hope to find
with them, an open door of opportunity and easy
entrance on his mission. But his philanthropy was
not confined to the Jewish nation. In the face of the
shame and humiliation which other Jews would have
felt, he went forth to Samaritan and Gentile, even the
poorest and most debased, with his message of love
and kindly ministries. No caste or race prejudice
could restrain his world-embracing sympathy. No
suffering son of man or daughter of affliction, no sin-
scarred abandoned mortal whom he did not carry on
his heart with all the fidelity and affection which Moses
had cherished for the one people of his love.
The Son of Man has been compared with the fabu-
lous Sakya Mouni.
The one was born a peasant, the other a prince.
The Hindu abandoned his home and fortune to become
a devout recluse in the wilderness, and afterward the
founder of Buddhism. He lived, according to tradi-
tion, about six hundred years before the Christian
era.
Disgusted with the whole system of caste, which
256 THE NEW RELIGION.
played such a conspicuous part among the Brahmins,
he threw the whole weight of his great influence
against it. He saw in every human being that which
made him kin to himself ; and more, he saw in every
living, creeping thing, a transmigrating spirit, once a
man, now a soul in process of purification. '
He was thoroughly unselfish, and in this respect
resembled the founder of the Christian system. He
was born a Brahmin, as Jesus was born a Jew, and
both became great reformers, one of Brahminism, the
other of Judaism, of ethics and religion the world
over.
As philanthropists they had less in common than
we have been taught to believe.
The kinship of Buddha to animated nature was the
kinship of law and relation, and not that of personal
sentiment and capacity. He could find nothing author-
izing or justifying the caste system of the Brahmins.
The spirit of every living thing, and of course man
included, was an emanation in kind from the divine
spirit, and hence the universal kinship of animated
nature. Any pretension to natural superiority or pre-
rogative was pure assumption, and hence the whole
caste system is rotten at the core.
But the brotherhood of the Buddhist is kinship,
without reciprocity, without philanthrop}^
Rest, absolute, eternal rest is the condition of final
blessedness — Nirwana.
Philanthropy itself is a passion, and incompatible
with repose. It senci^ men out to help others — to
THE CHRIST CHARACTER. 257
heal the sick, to open Wind eyes, to unstop deaf ears,
to help the fatherless and the widow, to visit the sick
and them that are in prison. It is attended with some-
thing of care and anxiety. In its essence it is action
and not rest. It is incompatible with the Buddhist
thrjory of the ideal good.
Buddha was tired — tii-ed of soul and must rest, as
an exhausted man must sleep. That which prevents
sleep — rest — must be withdrawn, annihilated. Desire,
sensibility prevents rest — is itself active and incom-
patible with rest of soul. Buddha philanthropy, if
philanthropy it may be called, having attained its per-
fection, visits no prisons, cared for no widows and
orphans, built no almshouses.
All are united in the same march of events, all are
destined to the same goal — let the all-embracing stream
of life flow smoothly onward in its deep channel, but
avoid the submerged rocks, that break the surface into
splashing white caps, or hurl the flood into eddying
whirlpools beneath. Desire is the very devil of infe-
licity. Alas, this eternal unrest and toil of the spirit !
When shall we be done with it and the soul be per-
mitted to rest ? This was Sakya Mouni.
How different from all this was Jesus, needs hardly
to be said.
He enters upon life with the divine passion
aflame in his heart. He did not seek to destroy emo-
tion, passion, desire, but to temper and direct them.
A soul without these sensibilities would be as destitute
pind incapable of happiness as a ray of light. In his
258 THE NEW RELIGION.
own experience, conscience was supreme, and love
reigned — love toward God and love toward men. And
to this complexion he sought to bring all men, with
what fidelity and devotion let Gethsemane and the
cross witness.
As Sakya Mouni has been delivered to us, he is
bewilderingly great — great in self-abnegation, great as
a reformer, great as a speculative and religious m3^stic —
but with such a monstrous misconception of human
hfe and duty as to vitiate his influence, and render it
doubtful whether, after all, he were more a blessing
than a curse to the world.
Jesus assumed that life is worth living, and worth
saving, and he gave himself to the task of readjusting
its forces, and making it a harmony in the universe of
God. His whole being throbbed with affection for
poor humanity. He consecrated himself to the service
of mankind, and, giving all, obedient to the behests
of his und3ang love for the race, he went down through
trial and suffering, to death. And now, after nineteen
centuries, he is hailed as the Savior of men by the
most enlightened nations of the earth.
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Christ Mission Outlined.
It is time now to inquire specifically what was the
mission of the Lord Jesus Christ to this world. He
had a specific mission and he must have known well
what it was. The angel said, ^^thou shalt call his
name Jesus, savior, for he shall save his people from
their sins. " Matt, i: 21.
The Evangelist tells us that God sent him —
^^that whosoever believeth on him should * have
everlasting life. " Jno. 3: 16.
Jesus himself says:
*^My meat is to do the will of him that sent me,
and to finish his work," whatever that may have been.
See Jno. 4: 34.
^'He that heareth my word and believeth on him
that sent me hath everlasting life." Jno. 5: 24. Not
shall have, but hath. ^T can of mine own self do
nothing; as I hear I judge, and my judgment is just,
because I seek not mine own will, but the will of the
Father which hath sent me." Jno. 5: 30. He is
under commission.
The work which the Father hath given me to finish,
the same work I do — under commission — and they
bear witness of me. Jno. 5: 36.
26o THE NEW RELIGION.
^^No man cometh to me except the Father draw
him; and I will raise him up at the last day." Jno.
6: 44. Will raise him up.
^^My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me."
Jno. 7: 16. Under commission.
''I must work the works of him that sent me while it
is day. The night comath when no man can work."
Jno. 9: 4.
^^The Father which sent me, he gave me a com-
mandment, what I should say, and what I should
speak." Jno. 12: 49.
^^The word which ye hear is not mine, but the
Father's which sent me." Plainly under commission.
Jno. 14: 24.
From these declarations of Jesus, and others of
similar import, we must learn the purposes of the
Father in sending his beloved Son to this world.
Jesus tells us in so many words why he came.
^^I came "^ to call * sinners to repentance. " Mark.
2: 17; Luke 5: 32.
''I came not to judge the w^orld, but to save the
world." Jno. 12: 47.
^^I came not to be ministered unto, but to minister
and to give my life a ransom for many." Mark 10: 45.
^'Let us go into the next towns, that I ma}^ preach
there also, for therefore I am come forth." Mark
i: 38.
He was explicit in stating that the Father had sent
him; that he came under commission to do certain
^^works;" to represent the Father in his character
THE CHRIST MISSION. 261
and feelings toward men, and through his hfe and
teaching to point the way to the Kingdom of Heaven
—to be the '^way/' the '^truth'' and the ''Uie.''
The prophet had said: ''The Spirit of the Lord is
upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the
gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the
broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives,
and recovering of sight to the blind; to set at liberty
them that are bruised; to preach the acceptable year
of the Lord." Isaiah 6i: i. Having gone into the
synagogue and read this passage, he said, all eyes
being fixed upon him, ''This day is this scripture ful-
filled in your ears." See Luke 4: 18-21.
In summing up his work at the close of his mission
he said:
"It behooved Christ to suffer and to rise from the
dead * that repentance and remission of sins should
be preached in his name among all nations." Luke
24: 46, 47.
The Jews had long lived in expectation of a great
deliverer. The old theocracy had passed away, their
kings were dead, and they had passed under the
Roman yoke; and their only hope, as set forth by the
prophets Isaiah, Daniel and others, was in the com-
ing Messiah.
Answering to this expectation, Jesus is announced
as the child of prophecy and claims to have come
to open up and establish the kingdom foretold by the
prophets.
He assures them that this kingdom is at hand.
262 THE NEW RELIGION.
From this collection of facts and others akin and
confirmatory, we must make up our ideal of the mis-
sion of Jesus Christ to the world, so far, at least, as
he himself and his four biographers have set it forth.
He was to ^^save men from sin" by whatever
means. This was the general purpose and final
object of his coming. Through him in some way men
were to attain ^^everlasting life," and be ^ ^raised up at
the last day."
He explicitly asserts that he came to ^^call sinners
to repentance," ^^to preach the gospel to the poor,"
*'to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to
the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind ^ the
acceptable year of the Lord."
If it is thought that Paul and other writers of the
New Testament, more under the influence and power of
the old Judaic cultus than was he, have indicated other
offices and purposes of his mission, let us leave them
to the criticism and judgment of the theologians, to
whose ability and learning no pretensions are here
made. We seek to know only what the Christ mis-
sion was as he himself understood it, and what he
himself taught us as to our relations to it.
By common consent to save m.en from sin must
mean to bring them to turn from sin, to eschew the
wrong, to covet the good; it must mean to bring them
into relations of loyalty to the divine government,
into harmony with the moral order of the universe.
Between the alien and rebellious sinner, and the good
God, and all else that is fsfood, there must be effected
THE CHRIST MISSION^ 263
an at-one-ment, a permanent harmony. To this con-
summation all professing Christians look, though they
do so under the lights and shadows of various theories
as to the means and mo dies operandi.
What, then, is it from which men need to be saved?
What must be done to bring the creature into har-
monious relations with the Creator?
1. In the ordinary experience of men there is some
consciousness of guilt before God — an abiding con-
viction that something is not right, something has
been done which ought not to have been done — a
sense of ill-desert, that causes unrest and trouble of
spirit, a ghost of apprehension, if not of condemnation,
that will not down. This state of mind must be
replaced by one of mental rest and satisfaction.
2. Between the unregenerate and the Holy Spirit
of God there is little or no congeniality. The sinful
and the wicked do not enjoy the presence and society
of the pure and good. They are wont to slink away and
hide themselves. They are out of their element, as
is a fish out of water. They are, as Paul puts it,
without hope and without God in the world. They
are living in their lower nature, and must be brought
out of it ere they can realize the higher joys of which
man is capable. This congeniality and reciprocity
must be established to make the best form of human
happiness possible.
3. And then, there comes into tne life of every one
a conscious sense of helplessness — hours of suffering
and disappointment, in which the soul imperatively
264 THE NEW RELIGION.
needs what no human hand can give — needs to rest
down upon one who can and who will render support,
who will keep and protect till the storm be over — •
past. This sense of the divine helpfulness is to be
realized.
4. So much done, there must yet be imparted
such strength and temper of spirit as will enable the
individual to maintain his regenerate life in the face
of temptation and opposition, with all its fruitions
and prerogatives, as he goes forward in the journey
Oi the world-life to its close.
5. Finally, every one knows, when he pauses to
reflect, that the present sensuous life is ebbing away —
that time flies, and death comes, and he needs to
know that there will be no break in his conscious
being at death, that, -^if a man die, he shall live
again '' And he wants to know this with something
ot more assurance than mere reason and philosophy
can give.
Such are the needs which men realize in the present
state of being — needs to which response must be made
if men are to be saved.
To work out, or to aid in working out, these results
foi mankind wc will now assume that the Divine Son
01 Man sent 01 the Father, came to this world.
Whac was his programme? What, as a matter of
fact, did he do?
One 01 his biographers in concluding his history
says — inauiging a strong hyperbole:
^*And there are also many other things which Jesus
THE CHRIST MISSION. 265
did, the which, if they should be written, every one
of them, I suppose that even the world itself could
not contain the things that should be written." Jno.
21: 25.
We are not permitted to know all that Jesus did,
but we know in part, and, it may be safely assumed,
that whatever he did, and whatever he said, was
done and said with a view of furthering the salvation
of men — the one great purpose of his mission.
CHAPTER XXV.
The Christ — A Revelation.
^^O that I knew where I might find him" — the cry
of the much-aiHicted old Patriarch, has been the cry
of all the ages. To ^^find him/' has been the quest
of all philosoph}^, the one hope of all religion — the
inextinguishable yearning of the human soul.
"Nearer my God to thee,
Nearer to thee."
But ^^Who b}^ searching can find out God?"
What did the Egyptian give us, pushing his quest
and leading the thought of the world through the long
centuries of his culture? What did the mystic Brah-
min, spurning the earth and aspiring to be with the
gods, give us, during all the cycling centuries, which
he claims to have been his ? What did Greek philoso-
phy, born of genius, give us? What is the ^^Ra" of
Egypt, or the ^'BRAHM^'of India, or the ^^One" of Greek
philosophy, but a dim abstraction, without form and
void?
^'The heavens declare the glory of God. " Yes, they
do. And, as we turn our telescopes upon them, and
know more of law, and light, and electricit}^, they
become all more glorious. But the glory of God is
THE CHRIST MISSION. 267
not God. All nature smiles in radiant beauty under
the lambent touches of the king of day ; but all nature
is not God.
The raging of our own Niagara tells of power. The
thunder and the storm tell us of power. The mighty
orbs that were flung into the upper deep, to count
their mighty revolutions on and on forever, tell us of
power, more than we can conceive ; hut J^ower is not
God. The light fitted to the eye and suited to leaf
and flow^er tells us of wisdom ; but wisdom is not
God.
Wisdom and power exhaust the category of the
divine attributes, as manifested in the heavens, that
declare the glory of God, and in the firmament that
showeth his handiwork.
But out of the depths there come other voices —
voices of sentiment, of love, of conscience, venera-
tion, justice, of sympath}^, of gratitude. Are these
the voices of God sounding out of the depths ? Whence
come these voices?
Light and heat wake to life the sleeping germ. They
expand the bud, and paint the rose, and the unseen air
bears to us its fragrance. But do they tell us of feel-
ings of joy, or grief? Electricity can reawaken the
dead and start it into momentary phenomenal life and
activity. Can it inform us of intent, or of duty, or of
worship?
^^O that I knew where I might find him !"
The Son of Man — Son of God — came out of the
depths, which thought had essayed in vain to explore.
268 THE NEW RELIGION.
The conception of the divine being prevalent in the
Old Religions is thoroughly mystical, and to the last
degree obscure and confusing. Their most enlight-
ened worship was the worship of the Greeks at Mars
Hill — worship of the ^ ^Unknown God."
In Judaism we have a definable and palpable Mono-
theism. The God of the Jew is one God. ^^He
inhabiteth eternity, and dwelleth in the uttermost parts
of the earth. '^
Unlike the supreme beings of other religions, he was
conceived of as holding intimate and familiar relations
with his creature man, and because of his imminence
and constant providence, his power to awe and restrain
men was supremely great.
But his character as it stood in the mind of the
ancient Jew approaches that of a despot, conscious
of unlimited power, and holding universal dominion.
He is the one Almighty Being, more to be feared than
loved. As in the older religions, fear held sw^ay as a
motive to obedience. The ^^fear of the Lord" was
regarded as ^^the beginning of wisdom;' ' and the destruc-
tion frequently hurled against idolatrous nations, gave
ample sanction to the comprehensive injunction, ^'Fear
God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole
duty of man."
The unique and wonderful Son of Man came out of
the depths to show us God — the All-Father.
The Prophet seven hundred years before had said,
He shall be called Immanuel — God with us. It was
his to bring within the range of our sense-appreheii-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 269
sion the attributes of the Heavenly Father, in so far,
at least, as they stand related to our well-being. A
mere verbal revelation was not enough. There must
be an acted-living revelation, if men are to be reached
and rescued. To the extent of our needs ^^all power
in heaven and on earth" are given to him. He imper-
sonates the Father. What he did the Father did
through him. What he said the Father said. In his
capacity as the Father's vicegerent, he is one with the
Father — Immanuel.
From him we learn not only that wisdom is of God,
and that power is of God, but we learn what had never
been known or imagined, if we except the Judaic cult,
that sentiment — affection — feeling are of God.
From him we learn that God loves all men.
From him we learn that, as the embodiment and
impersonation of all that is good, we should love God
supremely.
That, as equal to ourselves in all tho capacities for
goodness, and destined to the same eternity of being,
we should love our fellowmen as we love ourselves.
That, in God's estimate and order of things, love
fulfills all moral obligation, and that its presence as a
ruling sentiment constitutes the one condition of
human well-being and happiness.
From him we learn that a man weighted down
with sensuous appetencies and exposed to torturing
temptations, may be fortified and helped — may be
l^rought to the birth of a new life — may emerge into a
270 THE NEW RELIGION.
more spiritual and higher state of being, even in the
present life, and enter into the kingdom of heaven.
From him we learn that true penitence avails to
break the power of sin, to purge the soul from a con-
demning sense of conscious unworthiness as a sinner
before God ; that he who comes to see the folly of sin
may fly from it, and not remain forever cursed on
account of vows broken and sins already committed —
that penitent prodigals may return to the Father's
house.
From him we learn that the innocence and goodness
which characterize the child and constitute its heaven,
is indispensable to the adult as a qualification for the
same heaven; that the penitent, humble poor and
downtrodden shall sometime be vindicated, and that
they that mourn shall be blessed.
From him we learn that God is not the God of the
dead, but of the living — that there are no dead. From
him we learn all these things, and more — things hitherto
unknown, or but half known at best.
Thou blessed Christ, we thank thee for these revela-
tions. They lift the clouds and purify the air we
breathe. They remove great burdens from our shoulders.
We had thought we must placate the gods, build
shrines, offer sacrifices, make weary pilgrimages. We
did not know that to the Almighty belong moral attri-
butes— parental feeling — and that he needs not to be
placated with sacrifices and blood ; that he is, in fact,
our Father in heaven^ and that he loves us as his
children.
THE CHRIST MISSION.
271
We thank thee, thou blessed Christ, that thou hast
revealed the Father's love. We knew it not; we were
afraid of God. We knew something of his power,
and in the dark hours we thought his wrath was upon
us, and we looked into the grave without hope.
We knew not the way of life. We were blind and
went groping in the dark. But thou hast brought to
light, with the Father's love, ^^life and immortality."
We should \vdive known that he who stands at the
portals of life, sustaining our breathing and our heart-
beats, was the Almighty Father, attentively caring for
us, but we did not ; it had not occurred to us, and we
lifted up no gratitude for his goodness.
He that hath seen me hath seen the Father. The
spirit that I manifest ; the interest and affection that
I have had in you and exhibited toward you are his
interest, his affection. Can it be possible ? Is this an
exhibition of the Heavenly Father's solicitude and"
care for poor humanity? Yes. He that hath seen
me hath seen the Father. We have seen the blessed
Christ going in and out among men, helping the needy,
healing the sick, comforting the mourner, giving hope
and courage to the down-trodden and despairing. We
saw thee on the ^^mount" and heard thy gracious
words. We saw thee with the religiously per-
plexed and disconsolate woman at the well — with the
penitent adulteress — at the bier of the widow of Nain —
with the sisters of Bethany, weeping at the grave of
their brother. Yes, thou Lamb of God, we saw thee
in Gethsemane and on the cross, and heard thy dying
272 THE NEW RELIGION.
prayer, ^'Father, forgive them," and now thou dost
assure us that he that hath seen me hath seen the
Father !
We have been told that Jesus made no contributions
to our knowledge.
The allusion in such a statement must be to a tech-
nical knowledge of physical science.
It is not claimed that Jesus was a ^ ^scientist." But
no philosopher or scholar of any respectability or
regard for truth will say that he made no valuable
contributions to the * ^science" of ethics and religion.
He brought to light — and let him deny who will —
new conceptions of the divine being, new estimates of
the value of love as a factor of well-being, new ideals
of worship and a more correct view of the relations
that men sustain to each other and to God, the possi-
bility of a rapid transformation of moral character, a
better ideal of the relation of male and female, and the
sanctity of marriage, and to mention no more, a more
worthy conception of the true dignity of man and a
more rationally certified hope of life and well-being
in the hereafter.
It need not here be said that these revelations
opened up to men a '^New Heaven" and a ''New
Earth."
It is not, after all, to be wondered at that the Son
of Man so profoundly impressed mankind. Such
astounding revelations could hardly do less. It is
only wonderful that men should be so slow to awake
to a proper recognition of what the good ''Father in
THE CHRIST MISSION. 273
Heaven," and the '^Only Son" have done for the
world.
It is sometliing humiliating to know that as early as
the fourth century, men holding the written life of
Jesus in hand, could proceed to build up the most
gigantic despotism the world ever saw.
It is humiliating to know that the best scholars and
the best men of the world holding this book in hand,
could submit for a i,ooo years to this remorseless
world-embracing despotism, without a protest that
would shake the earth and wake the dead.
It is not creditable to the sixteenth century intelligence
that Christians having wrested this book, all radiant
with the revelations of God, from the hands of the
Pope, should be satisfied with a reform so partial and
imperfect.
It is not creditable to the eighteenth century intelli-
gence, that the churches, with this book upon their
altars, should retain anything of the old Judaic and
Pagan priesthood with its effete functions — that they
should retain anything of the essentially heathen belief,
^hat the great God can be conciliated by the offering
of slain victims, and ^^shed blood," with only a diver-
sion as to the dramatis per sonce of the offering.
It compromises the religious intelligence of this age
that even Protestants can shrink themselves into a
comprehensive externalism, and go statedly through
the ceremonial and ritualistic services of the temple,
and imagine that, in so doing, they are par excellence
serving God ; while in the Roman and Greek churches,
274 '*'"''' N^^ RELIGION.
we have heathenism in full chorus! If the divine
Son of Man were again to speak to us in audible terms,
would he not say ^^How long shall I bear with you?
How long shall I suffer you?"
In the name of the Only Begotten, let Christians
awake out of the sleep of a dead formalism, and
return to the ^ 'mount of vision," where Jesus left his
disciples at Pentecost.
CHAPTER XXVI.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
According to views just presented, the life of the
^^Son of Man" was an acted and perpetual revelation.
His teaching, therefore, on any subject and on all sub-
jects, indeed, must be accepted as true and authori-
tative, if properly understood.
But here comes in some difficulty, especially to us
Westerners, whose habits of thought and modes of
expression are so different from those of the Orientals.
We have dropped from the gorgeous realm of tropes
and metaphors to the flat bottom of a prosy, matter-
of-fact literalism, and we find it difficult to render the
poetry of the Orient into the prose of the Occident.
Who eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, hath
eternal life! He that eateth my flesh and drinketh
my blood, dwelleth in me and I him! And yet, with
attention to differences in modes of thinking, we shall
be able to make the translation more or less correct.
Another precaution seems necessary. God is
revealed as a spirit. That which exists on the plane
of the material is not God. The revelations of the
Son of God deal with the spiritual.
God the Father, man the creature. The kinship
276 THE NEW RELIGION.
between them is a kinship of spirit with spirit, of
thought with thought, of feehng with feehng.
Largely overlooking the merely physical and per-
ishable, the Son of Man proceeds upon a plane of
exalted spirituality. He deals with the ^^^ternal
verities." If he is interested in a cup of cold water,
it is because that cup is the blossoming out and fruit-
age of a temper and disposition which constitute
heaven in the soul.
If reason and conscience and love do not predomi-
nate and exclude idolatrous devotion to the distract-
ing temporary concerns of the lower life, we shall fail
to comprehend this '^Teacher come from God."
^^The natural man receiveth not the things of the
spirit of God — they are foolishness unto him. He
cannot know them, for they are spiritualty discerned."
And here precisely lies the difficulty with the skep-
tical critics of the Founder of Christianit}/. Living
habitually in the arit^ regions of speculative thought,
and concerned chiefly with the present ^ ^world-life,"
they have failed to apprehend the true significance of
his teaching at many points.
Man is at his best when his whole nature, intellec-
tual, moral and spiritual, is in full play, when con-
science asserts the divine presence and prerogative,
when the affections are duly subordinated to the law
of right, and take hold on things spiritual, and the
soul, throbbing with glad emotion, is lifted out of the
gross and sensuous and borne heavenward. Then it is
THE CHRIST MISSION. 277
that the words and thoughts of Jesus become ''words
that breathe," and ''thoughts that burn."
He addressed himself chiefly to the affectional
nature, as we all know, and he must be approached
on the line and in the spirit of his teaching if one
would get into rapport with him, and become able to
properly understand and appreciate his teaching.
In his review of the best thought of his age Jesus
pointed out certain errors and indicated certain prin-
ciples of morality which had never before been
enunciated.
It is altogether probable that much of his teaching
has not been transmitted to us in form or in fact; but
the more striking and impressive, and probably the
more important passages have been recorded.
I. In review of the Mosaic teaching he says, Ye have
heard that it has been said "an eye for an eye and a
tooth for a tooth" — evil for evil. This was the teach-
ing, this the practice, this the impulse of unregener-
ate humanity the world over. But he abruptly
breaks this order. Do not do evil for evil. What
then, do nothing? Not that. "But I say unto you *
Bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate
you, and pray for them who despitefuUy use you and
persecute you!"
But is such a course a reasonable one, and practicable
in actual life? Will it do to assume that this doing
good for evil will finally be appreciated, and prove to
be the best thing that could have been done? Well,
we know that seeing it done usually touches the hard-
278 THE NEW RELIGION.
est hearts. It stays the hand ready to strike. It
checks revenge. It hardly fails to conquer peace.
As a rule, it does all these, whereas, returning evil
for evil stirs worse strife, summons resistance, embit-
ters feeling, excites revenge and prolongs hatred and
war.
Is it not better to take the chances — appeal to the
better nature, and return good for evil, and thus do
the best and strongest thing in your power to reform
and save the evil doer? So taught Jesus, whose mis-
sion it was to save his people from their sins.
He himself did good for evil. He did it when the
world was against him, and there was little hope of
final appreciation — when his own chosen ^^tw^elve"
had left him. He did it, when to seeming, his cause
went down out of sight, and he hung dying on the
cross.
But it is a new deal in morality. Too high for
some, possibly for most men. Even that profound
scholar and advanced thinker, John Stuart Mill,
thought such a morality impracticable in actual life.
Let them wait. Men are accepting it more and more.
The evidence from history is not all in. More and
more the folly of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a
tooth is becoming apparent, more and more is it
becoming evident that on this line of battle ^^one shall
chase a thousand and two put ten thousand to flight."
2. Infarther review of the Mosaic teaching, he brings
out new ideals as to the position and the rights of
woman.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 279
*^In the beginning God made male and female. " ' ^And
for this cause shall a man leave father and mother,
and cleave to his wife; and they twain shall be one
flesh."
What then becomes of the boasted superiority of
man? Whence his right to subordinate and enslave
woman, as she has been in all lands and through the
ages? Contrasted with all previous teaching this
reads like a revelation from heaven. There is
scarcely a trace of it to be found in history. The
teaching in Genesis accounting for the origin of male
and female was accepted, but the logical inferences
which the Author of Christianity makes from it had
never been made. Very soon after the creation,
woman drops out of sight, only to appear again as a
servile subordinate, toward whom any indignity may
be offered with impunity. Polygamy and concubinage
run riot under the eyes and in the immediate presence
of Moses and the prophets. It is a distressing com-
ment upon poor human nature, that, after i,goo
years, so few have yet risen to the height of a view,
so just, so human — and they twain shall be one flesh.
The rights of women, as certified by the Author of
Christianity, are coming to be recognized more and
more, but even among professing Christians the
admission that they twain shall be ''one flesh'' is
grudgingly made, if made at all.
Blessed Master, Ihou didst come to redeem and
save the world, and thou art mightily lifting at least
28o THE NEW RELIGION.
one-half of it — aye, all of it — for as woman is lifted
man is also lifted and saved. ^
Treasure in Heaven,
3. As the conscience is awakened and becomes sensi-
tive to the touches of sin, as the affections become
pure, the thoughts take new range, one sees things in
new lights, and the whole significance of life is
changed.
The Author of Christianity always insisted upon a
purer morality — a higher life. There is a realm
whence disastrous changes and uncertainty are ban-
ished, and to this realm he would have men aspire.
^^Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the
earth where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where
thieves break through and steal. But lay up for
yourselves treasures in heaven. * * For where
your treasure is, there will your heart be also." Matt.
6: 19-21.
This teaching, be it old or new, is squarely in the
face of the world's activities. In an iron age — even
in a silver and gold age — it can have little recognition
among men. The average adventurer upon the sea
of life will thrust it aside as the dictum of a dreaming
I. The teaching of the Founder of the New Religion, that
only one single ground of divorce is lawful, alike distinguishes his
followers from both Jews and heathens of his day. He revolu-
tionized society by giving to the family a sure foundation, and by
the elevation of woman to be the true companion of man. Chris-
tian Archaeology, by Bennett, p. 461.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 281
enthusiast, and utterly incompatible with business
life in this business world.
We forget that we are children of the Father in
heaven, and capable of holding high converse with
him, that we are destined, very soon, to be withdrawn
from the present environment. The lower life burns
out while incubating the higher. The lower life,
within its sphere, has its uses. But its uses are tem-
porary, and it is liable to error. It is wont to busy
itself constantly with momentary pleasures and Cheap
entertainments. These entertainments and pleasures
sometimes prove to be so fascinating as to draw upon
the life forces above, and pervert them. They are, it
must be admitted, very beguiling, and tend to draw
us. down ward — to keep us on the plane of the lower
life.
The mad chase for gold is on throughout the wide
world. Behold the struggle it engenders, always and
everywhere! What does it prove?' It proves that
most men are the victims of avarice. It proves that
the lower life is master — that men are standing on the
lower and not the higher plane of their being — that
the glare of gold has blinded them to the spiritual
possibilities of their nature — that they have not
^'tasted of the good word of God and the powers of
the world to come." They, indeed, know something
of a crude and cheap friendship, but it usually has the
taint of money. They know little or nothing of the
true feast of reason and flow of soul sometimes real-
ized by high-born congcjnial spirits. Such fellowship
202 THE NEW RELIGION.
is too high, for the professional money-getter. He
cannot attain unto it. He is living in his lower nature,
which admits of certain fervid ill-fragrant excitements,
but yields no charismic exaltation. He is breathing
an atmosphere that is heavy and choking, loaded with
the rust and poison of selfishness, and the love of
money. His feet are amid the swamps and quag-
mires of the earth, earthy. He is to be pitied, since
he knows not, or seems not to know, that there is
anything better than money. There are many things
better than money. When you are healthy and
buoyant your dollar is worth its face, every cent of it.
When you linger on a cheerless bed of protracted sick-
ness and sufiering, from which all the money of the
banks cannot lift you, your dollar is at discount. As
your malady increases its discount increases. When
you are looking into the grave, what is the value of
your dollar, or a million of them?
Money is at best but a cheap advantage. It can
only buy what is of little worth, and cheap in the
market. It cannot buy a friendship worth having.
It cannot purchase 3^ou a restful and happy state of
mind or a good character — a breath or touch of
heaven.
Better not lay it up. It will not keep long in any
case. Rust will corrode it. Thieves may steal it.
When love warms your heart and sweetens your
temper, your thoughts are likely to take a range above
money and money hunting. When gratitude for a life
crowned with blessings wells up from the depths of
THE CHRISr MISSION. 283
your being, you are surmounting your lower nature.
You are stepping well upon the borders of the upper
kingdom, and earthly treasures are of little worth.
Why do we so habitually shut our eyes to things
eternal, and open them so eagerly and fix them so
intently upon things perishable and of little worth?
Somehow this tendency is upon us — upon some more
and stronger than upon others, but upon us all.
However, we have moments of aspiration and clearer
light — moods let us call them — outcrops of the future
life — foregleams of the coming day — flashes of disem-
bodied spirit existence. There are few, perhaps none,
w^ho have not had these moods — seasons of temporary
exaltation — prophesies cf the hereafter. They have
come in response to fervid prayer to God for a purer
and better life. They have come, as they did in the
olden time to Plato, in hours of solitary contempla-
tion. They have come on occasions of sweet and
holy converse of friend with friend — blessed anti-
pasts of the Kingdom of Heaven. And in such
moods how radiant and joyous is all nature; theheavens
are more benignant, the landscape more charming,
the foliage more gorgeous, the flowers sweeter. Even
the bark of the distant dog, on his faithful watch, is a
note of praise that reaches heaven. The lowing herd
and the flitting songsters of the forest, and every
sound that breaks upon the ambient air peal their
grateful melodies into the ear of the Most High.
How then does the ^*earth-earthy" sink into worth-
^.ssness? What now of the money-grubbers and
284 THE NEW RELIGION.
notoriety mongers who are so busily digging to bury
themselves deeper and deeper in the accumulations of
earthy treasure? What ample proof the millionaire
gives of short-sighted folly! How evident the damag-
ing mistakes made by those who, like the great Alex-
ander, are ambitious of earthly renown. Renown, the
most flattering, is unsatisfying. It did not satisfy
Alexander — did net bless him Living, he gave the
largest proof of his mad foll}^, and dying he went off
an impoverished bankrupt, a wreck into a shoreless
sea. He died as the fool dies. The golden sands of
Pactolus could not protect the proverbial Croesus
against the determination of Cyrus to offer him in
sacrifice to the Persian's God. And gold would not
bless you, though, like Midas, you could turn every-
thing you touch into gold. It would curse you. It
cursed Midas until he besought the gods to smite him
again with utter poverty, if need be, to save him from
the curse of gold.
What will it profit a man if he gain the whole world
and lose his own soul?
CHAPTER XXVII.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
In pursuance of his mission ^^Jesus began to preach,
saying, repent ye for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand.'
That repentance was somehow needful to reforma-
tion was urgently taught in the Hebrew scriptures.
^'If my people shall humble themselves and seek my
face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I for-
give their sins, and heal their land (2 Kings 7: 14).
The Psalmist, whose enlarged views and exalted spir-
ituality, exhibit the best phases of the Judaic cultus,
prays :
* ^ * * * O Lord
Pardon my iniquity, for it is great.
* * -jt ^ H? ^
Turn thou unto me, and have mercy upon me,
For I am desolate, and afflicted.
* -jf * * * ^
Have mercy upon me, O God,
According to thy loving kindness.
* -x- :i; * * *
And cleanse me from my sin.
* -X- :ic -X- * *
The Lord is nigh unto them of a broken heart,
And saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.
286 THE NEW RELIGION.
A broken and a contrite heart,
O God, thou wilt not despise —
From this cultus Jesus emerged as the '^Messiah/'
commissioned to ^^save his people from their sins."
John was in the wilderness of Judea calling upon
men to repent — preparing the way of the Lord. The
impassioned cry of John became the solemn injunction
of Jesus — ''•Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand." Throughout his teaching great stress is laid
upon the need of repentance.
When he sent out the 12 and the 70, it was to call
upon men to repent, as he himself had done, in their
hearing (Mark 6-12); and later, Peter reproducing his
teaching said, ^ ^Repent ye, therefore, and be con-
verted, that your sins may be blotted out." Acts 3: 19.
In summing up results just before his departure,
alluding to what had been written concerning him in
the Law of Moses and in the Prophets, and in the
Psalms, Jesus said, ^^Thus it is written, and thus it
behooved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead,
that repentance and remission of sins should be
preached in my name, to all nations."
It must no: be forgotten that whatever discord may
exist between the Almighty Father and any human
being, it is chargeable to the man himself, because of
wrongs done— of sins committed. If one is conscious
of personal guilt, he has brought it upon himself.
Like the Prodigal he has sinned, and like the Prodigal
he must repent. The good Heavenly Father is ever
ready to forgive and welcome the wanderer home.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 287
What is it to sin, and what to repent ? We ought
to be very clear on subjects of so much moment.
To sin^ then, is to violate law, to go against the
moral sense, to do what you know, or at least what
you believe, to be wrong. It is to take up arms against
conscience, to take sides with the bad against the
good.
Doing this, you cease to be loyal to the divine gov-
ernment, you become a discord in the moral order,
you become consciously unworthy and feel guilty.
This is human experience, always and everywhere, at
the inception of a sinful and vicious life.
But what is it to repent, that so much emphasis is
put upon it by the Great Teacher ? What can it be,
but to lay down the arms you have taken up against
conscience, to renounce sin, to eschcAV evil ? What
is it, but to take the back track on your erring life,
with the solemn purpose of reforming and making all
possible amends, and thus resuming your place in the
divine favor, or rather, perhaps, to experience such a
sense of personal guilt and consciousness of ill-desert,
on account of missteps taken and wrongs done, as will
cause you to gladly do these things ? The one course
in the very nature of things makes the other necessary.
The one covers, and corrects the other, leaving you
something damaged, indeed, and less than you other-
wise would have been, because of opportunities lost,
z^rA capacities unimproved, but yet reconciled with
God, and in sympathy and harmony with all that is
good.
288 THE NEW RELIGION.
Sooner or later there comes to most men, if not to
all, a thoughtful and serious hour, in which they are
wont to cast the horoscope of life descendant. They
ponder upon the pathway they have trod. They ques-
tion the oracles as to their fortune and destiny. They
stand in the conscious presence of the inevitable.
Perhaps they begin to realize that their feet are already
^^taking hold on death," and are ready to cry out with
the Publican, ^^God be merciful." Some great sorrow
has come, recalling their thoughts to the uncertainty
and insufficiency of all earthly good ; or, the exhibi-
tion of some great but undeserved love, has sent a
thrill of keen conviction to the heart ; or, it may be,
that some faithful minister of the gospel, like the
consecrated prophet on the banks of the Jordan, has
effectually reached them with his warning cry ; or the
^^still small voice" in the evening twilight, more pow-
erful than ^^the rushing might}^ wind," has been heard
in the solemn depths of the soul, calling them back to
duty and to God. At any rate the moral and religious
sense is at high-tide. Man is face to face with his
destiny. The moment is auspicious for high resolve,
and blessed is he who, in such an hour, takes resolu-
tion to abandon sin and consecrate himself to good-
ness and to God.
Now, it is something of this plastic state of mind
that Jesus seeks to bring in as the first condition need-
ful to the uplifting and saving process. There must
be some experience of sorrow for sin, some review of
the past, uncovering its errors, an honest hour with
THE CHRIST MISSION. 28g
God and the truth, resulting, as it must, in a sense of
guilt and unworthiness before God, if the future pos-
sibilities of the higher life are to be realized. This,
at least, is the postulate of the New Religion.
At this point stoicism takes issue squarely with
Christianity.
It was the conceit of the stoics that one could reform
himself simply by dint' of resolution, and stiffening up
courage. With them sorrow for sin was a childish
weakness. Seneca scouted penitence as unbecoming
a manly character. ^^The calm of a mind, blessed
with the consciousness of its own virtue, is the supreme
expression of felicity." (Leckey, Hist. Mor.,voL i, p.
207.)
But alas ! Seneca, what about the disquietude and
unrest of a mind conscious of its own vice ? And
where, good Seneca, will you go to find one who has
not had something of this experience with vice ? Is
the pleasure of virtue more real to consciousness than
the pain of vice?
Jesus and Seneca were contemporaries, and lived
under the same government- To Seneca, his Gali-
lean contemporary would have said, ^^They that are
whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.
I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repent-
ance."
Suppose, Seneca, you know yourself to have done
wrong, as surely you must have known you were doing,
when truckling to the wicked whims of the most
vicious despot th«at ever disgraced a throne. Suppose
290 THE NEW RELIGION.
you already feel a damning sense of guilt and sin,
such as very many men come to feel, what then? You can
not by a mere edict of the will banish it ; what is your
alternative ? You may disregard the voice of con-
science, you may possibly hush its warnings, but in
so far as you succeed in doing this, 3^ou break down
your moral nature, and disqualify yourself for the
enjoyment of those divine pleasures which spring from
congenial fellowship with the pure, the good and the
true.
If you ignore and discard sorrow for sin, what will
fortify any purpose to do right in the future ? How
can you reassume your relations of loyalty to the right
if no sorrow^ for wrong-doing has begotten within you
a stronger motive to obedience ?
Jesus says. Repent, give place to sorrow, examine
your life in the light of your best knowledge, and with
prayerful interest, seek to know the worst as God
knows it. To do this is no evidence of weakness or
want of manhood.
Your sorrow is but the needed ministry of suffering —
the condition and prophecy of your emancipation from
sin.
Nor is the result uncertain. That one comes up out
of the ordeal of a true penitence, nobler and happier, is
not an accident.
When Jesus began to preach saying, ^'Repent for
the kingdom of heaven is at hand," he announced the
law of the spirit's emergence into higher forms of
THE CHRIST MISSION. 29I
life. Peter repeats it in form, ' 'Repent ye therefore and
be converted."
''How can it be?" Never mind, Nicodemus, it is
so. "The wind bloweth where it hsteth, and you
hear the sound thereof." "Marvel not." "Kf must
be born again. "
Most of us have seen men come out of this ordeal
of penitence. What are the facts ? They come with
smiles of joy playing over every feature, with expres-
sions of thankfulness and gratitude, with a fathomless
love that reaches out toward friends and foes, and
takes in the world.
And this process of redemption we have seen
repeated so often, as to leave no doubt as to the law
of regeneration. They come out of this ordeal "new
creatures,' ' childlike, transparent, with new aspirations,
new hopes and purposes. They experience new affini-
ties and seek new associations.
And Jesus evidently regarded all such penitents as
already saved and worthy of confidence. If one sin
against you forgive him. The penitent publican was
"justified." The penitent adulteress was forgiven.
The penitent thief on the cross was promised
paradise.
He did not exalt "faith," as did Luther ; nor the
"blood," as does Moody, and orthodoxy in general.
It seemed to be enough that the sinner should be
penitent as the prodigal was penitent. It was not
necessary that he should go round and round through
the wilderness of ecclesiastical dogma and sacraments,
:^92 THE NEW RELIGION.
nor to halt at the dead sea of forms and ceremony —
*^the kingdom is at hand."
In a case given expressly to illustrate the way out
of sin and return to virtue, sketched by the Master's
own hand, the prodigal son is made to reviev/ his past
life, the favors slighted, the opportunities lost ; and
the dire necessities of a life of sin, are made to bring
the erring wanderer to himself, and in the spirit of
true penitence he determines to go back to his father
and say to him, '^Father, I have sinned against heaven
and before thee ; I am no more worthy to be called
thy son. Make me as one of thy hired servants.
And the father seeing him runs to meet him and wel-
come him home." No priestly ^^absolution" nor '^39
Articles." ^^No slain lamb or bleeding victim."
Among the angels in heaven and the angels on
earth there is ^^joy over one sinner that repenteth."
As a matter of fact this Christian view of the virtue
of repentance as adequate to exculpate the offender
from further blame, is accepted and acted on by men
generally. If one do you a wrong, to accomplish
some selfish purpose, you have reason for feeling that
he should be punished for it some way. But let him
repent and prove to you true sorrow, and 3^ou not onl}^
readily forgive him, but your confidence in his essen-
tial moral integrity is restored. This is the experience
of all honorable, fair-minded men. Throughout Juda-
ism and Christianity, at least, it is recognized as the
sufficient ground of forgiveness and restoration to the
divine favor.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 293
It is not claimed that penitence, however deep and
sincere, operates to lessen the divine abhorrence of
sin, or that one having sinned can, through repent-
ance, recover all that he lost through sinning ; but
only that he will be lifted out of the conscious con-
demnation and wretchedness which weighs upon him
during his alienation from God. He returns to his
loyalty to the right, not to be what he might have
been, but yet, to be at peace with conscience, and in
harmony with all that is good. The end of law is
universal harmony. This end has been attained
through penitence and reformation of life, and what
more do men, or angels, or God require ?
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
Reformation of life by means of moral precept and
education is always tediously slow and often far from
satisfactory.
Jesus had less to say in favor of such reformatory
means than most masters.
About the only hope held out by him to the habitual
sinner is the possibility of his regeneration. He did
not indoctrinate him in ethics, did not teach him
science, but called upon him to repent.
If a rapid, not to say an instantaneous transforma-
tion of the moral character, be impossible, then at
least one of the chief postulates of the New Religion
is unfounded, and Christianity sinks well nigh to the
level of the Older Religions.
Born only of the flesh you may tramp the world-
life through to its end on a very low plane of being.
And you need more than education and good advice.
To realize your destiny as a child of the Heavenly
Father, you must escape from the chrysalis of the
merely sensuous life and take your place among the
immortals. Education is not enough.
If those vicious tastes and dispositions of yours,
which take pleasure in domestic and social disorder^
THE CHRIST MISSION. 295
in conscienceless greed and unjust gain, in mere sen-
suous and degrading indulgence of tastes, and disposi-
tions which make history so largely a record of crime
— if the flaming appetites and passions which, upon
the least temptation, hurl you into every species of
excessive indulgence, cannot be replaced by some-
thing better, then plainly there can be no heaven for
3/0U in earth or sky. Mere education and precept,
such as the Old Masters relied on, are not enough.
The plummet must drop to the bottom. Marvel not
that I said unto you, ye must be born again.
As to the character and extent of the needed trans-
formation of life, there is diversity of experience and
diversity of opinions — opinions which vary somewhat
with the theories of human depravity.
The author of ^ ^Natural Law in the Spiritual World"
frankly states the necessities involved in conversion
under the ^^Total Depravity" theory of the orthodox
churches.
*^The attitude of the natural man, with reference to
the spiritual, is a subject on which the New Testa-
ment is equally pronounced. Not only in relation to
the spiritual man, but to the whole spiritual world
the natural man is regarded as dead. He is as a crys-
tal to an organism. The natural world is to the
spiritual as the inorganic to the organic. *To be car-
nally minded is death.'' ^Thou hast a name to live
but art dead.' ^She that liveth in pleasure is dead
while she liveth.' ^To you hath he given life^ which
were dead in trespasses and in sins.' " Again he says:
296 THE NEW kELlGION.
'^It is an old-fashioned theology which divides the
world in this way — which speaks of men as living
and dead, lost and saved — a stern theology, all but
fallen into disuse. This difference between the liv-
ing and the dead, in souls, is so unproved by casual
observation, so impalpable in itself, so startling as a
doctrine, that schools of culture have ridiculed or
denied the grim distinction. Nevertheless, the grim
distinction must be retained."
If this be, indeed, a true account of the natural,
unconverted man, then conversion must sweep the
whole field, and start him, another being, into another
realm of being.
This author is very explicit and has the courage a*
his faith. Let us hear him:
''What now, let us ask, specifically distinguishes a
Christian man from a non-Christian man? Is it that
he has certain mental characteristics not possessed by
the other? Is it that certain faculties have been
trained in him, that morality assumes special and
higher manifestations and character a nobler form?
Is the Christian merely an ordinary man, who hap-
pens, from birth, to have been surrounded with a
peculiar set of ideas? Is his religion merely that
peculiar quality of the moral life defined by Mr.
Mathew Arnold as morality, touched by emotion?
And does the possession of a high ideal, benevolcnc
sympathies, a reverent spirit, and a favorable envi-
ronment account for what men call his spiritual life?"
To all of which he enters a negative as follows:
THE CHRIST MISSION. ^97
*'The distinction between them is the same as that
between the organic and the inorganic, the Hving and
the dead. What is the difference between a crystal
and an organism, a stone and a plant? They have
much in common. Both are made of the same atoms.
Both display the same properties of matter. Both
are subject to the physical laws. Both may be very
beautiful. But besides possessing all that the crystal
has, the plant possesses something more — a mysteri-
ous something called life. This life is not something
which existed in the crystal, only in a less developed
form. There is nothing at all like it in the crystal.
There is nothing like the first beginning of it in the
crystal, not a trace or symptom of it. This plant is
tenanted by something new, an original and unique
possession, added over and above all the properties
common to both. When from vegetable life we rise
to animal life, here again we find something original
and unique — unique at least as compared with the
mineral. From animal life we ascend again to spirit-
ual life. And here also is something new, something
still more unique. He who lives the spiritual life has
a distinct kind of life, added to all the other phases
of life, which he manifests — a kind of life infinitely
more distinct than is the active life of a plant from
the inertia of a stone. The spiritual man is more dis-
tinct in point of fact, than is the plant from the stone.
This is the one possible comparison in nature, for
it is the widest distinction in nature; but compared
with the difference between the natural and the spirit-
298 THE NEW RELIGION.
ual, the gulx which divides the organic from the inor-
ganic is a hair's breadth. "^
I have made this quotation not because I accept its
teaching, nor for the purpose of controverting it, but
because the author sets forth so frankly and clearly
the nature and extent of the change necessitated by
the Total Depravity theory.
If the so-called natural man is endowed with spirit-
ual potencies — with capacities which, when properly
developed and properly directed, ally him with the
spiritual, and make him brother to other spirits and
all spirits — and it seems most remarkable that any can
doubt it — then, falling into habitual sin, and building
a bad character, as the natural man somehow is wont
to do, he needs conversion. He is going in the wrong
direction. He is misapplying and abusing his God-
given powers, and must stop it. He is not dead, but
misguided, and living beneath his privileges. He yet
has some sense of justice, some sympathy with the
right, the good and the true. "He has some sense of
love and friendship, some thought of God and destiny
— all men have. All unconverted men are not purely
diabolical. Conversion does not sweep the whole
field of their mental and moral powers and substitute
something different in kind.
A sense of justice, a sense of right and wrong, of
friendship and love, of the good and true, are intuitions.
To these man was born; and these ally the most
natural man with spirit existence and qualify him for
I. Natural Law in the Spiritual World, pp. 75 and 80., et. seq.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 299
possible spiritual fellowship. He needs nothing dif-
ferent in kind but a better temper and equilibrium of
mental and moral powers to make him happy. His
sense of justice is not diabolical, but possibly very
crude and imperfect; it may be but germinal and
badly overgrown with noxious vices, and so with all
the virtues named and nameable. He needs rehabili-
tating. He can never be the man he was intended to
be, without it, and hence Jesus says he must be born
again.
As if he had said to the ruler of the synagogue, you
have taken a wrong drift, Nicodemus. You are living
in your lower life. The chief objects of your life are
not what they should be. Your estimate of things
that are in themselves perishing and unsatisfying is
out of all proportion with their value as factors of well
being. You must wake up to the fact that your
higher nature is to dominate the lower, that you can-
not live as an animal and be happy as an angel or as a
man. Like the Prodigal, you must come to yourself
and change your base — admitting an expressive figure
— you must be born again.
On the theory of total depravity all alike need con-
version— the most innocent child as well as the most
obdurate criminal.
But Jesus did not hold the same language concern-
ing children that he held to Nicodemus.
He did not hold the language of representative
teachers.
Watson said they are ''judicially damned." Angus-
300 THE NEW RELIGION.
tine had said substantially the same, long before him.
Luther indorsed and emphasized Augustine. The
Protestant Episcopal church says, by implication,
they are ^^fire-brands of hell and bond-slaves of the
devil." But Jesus said of such is the Kingdom of
Heaven. He must have seen that their moral condi-
tion was very different from that of the ruler of the
synagogue. He breathes no suspicion that theyv^ere
or could be involved in the guilt of ^ ^original sin.*'
And, among those recognized as fit for the Kingdom
of Heaven, we trace a wide disparity of character and
habits — Lazarus at the gate of Dives, the Prodigal
Son, the good Samaritan, the penitent Publican, the
Marys, etc.
In short, it may be said that throughout his whole
teaching there is no intimation of the ^^grim dogma"
of original sin. It was only necessary that candidates
for the franchises of the Kingdom of Heaven should
eschew sin and love goodness.
CHAPTER XXIX.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
P-'ayer is the staple element of religion. It is the
experience of conscious want appeahng to the powers
above for help. Whether offered up by Pagan or
Christian,
"Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Uttered or unexpressed;
The motion of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast."
It sustains the moral sense. It renders conscience
more tenderly sensitive, it nourishes and fortifies the
better nature, and is essential to the religious life. In
the direst extremities it is instinctive and the final
resort of the driven spirit.
The Founder of the New Religion strongly empha-
sized its importance as a privilege to be enjoyed — as a
means to a blessing.
In response to a request from his disciples he fur-
nishes the following as a sample, indicating generally
the spirit and matter of acceptable prayer:
''Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy
name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy Will be done on
earth, as it is done in heaven. Give us this da}^ our daily
bread. Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those
302 THE- NEW RELIGION.
who trespass against us. Lead us not into tempta-
tion, but deliver us from evil; for thine is the King-
dom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen."
1. It is reverent and grateful — Hallowed be thy
name.
2. It is the dictate of love — Thy Kingdom — a state
of blessing — come to all.
3. It springs from a sense of dependence and need
— Give us this day our daily bread.
4. It springs from a sense of ill desert — Forgive
us our sins.
5. It is inconsistent with ill will — As we forgive
others.
6. It implies a dangerous exposure to sin — Deliver
us from evil.
7. It recognizes from first to last the Christian
ideal of God. as sympathetic and merciful — ^^Our
Father in Heaven."
It is a marvel of brevity, propriety and comprehen-
siveness. Nothing like it or approaching it to be
found in any religion.
Its spirit, and one or more of these underlying prin-
ciples, go to make up, we may suppose, all appro-
priate prayer. It seems perfect in every particular.
Suited to all the dependent and needy relations of
men.
But certain precautions are entered up. ^^Use not
vain repetitions." ''Don't pray to be heard of m.en."
The heathens make a mistake, for they think they
will be heard ''for their much speaking." And, if
THE CHRIST MISSION. 303
you pray to be heard of men, it were more a sacri-
lege than an act of worship.
As if he had said, I have given you a prayer. The
form is not material — '^Father, I have sinned against
heaven, and in thy sight; I am no more worthy to be
called thy Son — make me as one of thy hired servants"
— this will do. ^^God be merciful to me a sinner" —
will do. *^God, I thank thee I am not as other men,
extortioners, unjust" — stop — ^^I fast twice a week, I
give tithes" — stop, stop — this will not do.
Alas for human nature! There is great danger of
falling into the sin of praying to be heard of men
In the presence of a critical, fault-finding public,
whether in the ^ ^temple," or at the ^ ^corners of the
streets," it is more difficult to collect and concentrate
one's thoughts upon one's real needs — upon God and
duty and destiny, than in the privacy and solitude of
the closet. It is difficult to avoid attending too much
to the ^^form of sound words," and trimming the
thoughts to expectant ears. In public many things
tend to distract and to prevent that close and candid
review of self, and that deliberation which true devo-
tion requires. You want to avoid ^^temptation" when
you pray, ^'Lead us not into temptation."
A reverent recognition of the Divine Presence in a
public meeting is always becoming and appropriate,
and when the business is important, and especially if
it be perplexing and difficult, it is not only proper in
itself, but greatly needed, as it tends to withdraw the mind
304 THE NEW RETJGION.
from the murky regions of passion, and qualifies it for
sober and successful action.
But the practice of going into public for the express
purpose of prayer and worship has no sanction in the
New Religion.
On the Christ theory of true worship it is difficult
to justify the prevalent custom of repairing to public
shrines for prayer and worship — especially difficult to
justify the practice of hiring another to lead and con-
duct your worship. How can another know so well
as you yourself know what your soul needs in the way
of God's mercy and God's blessing? Perfunctory
prayers to be paid for, so much each, or by the dozen
— prayers by proxy, are exceedingly liable to be
wholly empty of power for good, mere words upon
the air.
If we grant that the minister, so employed, is per-
fectly sincere and well-meaning, his sincerity and
well-meaning cannot avail for those who employ him,
each one of whom is responsible for himself. No offi-
ciating priest can come between the individual soul
and God. If he be very ignorant and feeble, the
minister may, for the time, aid him by suggesting
lines of thought — may possibly stimulate his devo-
tions, but, exactly in such a case, there is imminent
danger of the votary depending too much upon his
priest — imminent danger of his falling into the practice
of listening to prayer more than praying for himself.
Every scul, however weak, is strong enough to lift
up his prayer to God for his mercy and blessing. If
THE CHRIST MISSION. 305
one feels that he needs an intermediating priest, it only
proves that he has wrong conceptions of worship, and
it might do him good to have all such props knocked
from under him.
He has forgotten, if he ever knew, that God is a
spirit, and that he who worships profitably must him-
self worship in spirit and in truth.
Jesus himself was not in the habit of praying in
public. He went into the temple and synagogue, it
is true, but it was more to teach the people than to
pray with them or for them. Though claimed to be a
priest (Heb. 5: 10) and initiated, as some say, into
the priestly office, he never officiated as such, and
never recognized the need of a priesthood as being at
all needful or helpful to true worship.
^^But when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and
when thou hast shut thy door, pray to the Father
which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in
secret, shall reward thee openly." In this injunction
it is possible that he only meant to emphasize the
necessity of one's being sincere and honest with him-
self, and to guard against all pride and pretense of
personal goodness, when seeking to commune with
God. However this may be, it is a noticeable fact,
that he did not appoint meetings for public worship,
did not instruct his disciples to do so, and his own
custom of withdrawing himself into solitude to pray,
leaving even his own chosen disciples and going into
some ^^desert place," or up into the ^ ^mountain,"
when desiring to formally commune with the Father,
306 THE NEW RELIGION.
though certainly there was no danger of his being
insincere or hypocritical, accords with and reaffirms
his instructions on the subject.
The student of history hardly needs to be reminded
that the priestly office has always and everywhere
tended to abuse and usurpation. It implies and
depends upon the practice of public and proxy wor-
ship, which, in the very nature of things, equally
tends to hypocrisy and corruption. The Founder of
Christianity, as if aware of these dangerous tenden-
cies, which, it would seem, are too strong for human
nature, gave no sanction, either to a paid priesthood,
or to public worship as such.
In heathen and Pagan lands there are very many
shrines for public worship, and the scenes there wit-
nessed are pitiful and humiliating enough. In the
older Catholic countries not much can be claimed in
the way of improvement upon Pagan customs.
Protestantism has very much improved the customs
of public worship, though evidences of the known
tendencies are not wanting, in certain quarters.
The Protestant church edifice is not a mere shrine.
It is a place where instruction is mingled with wor-
ship. The pulpit is not simply an altar, but more a
rostrum, and is steadily becoming more and more a
^ ^rostrum."
To cherish a realizing sense of the Divine Presence
during those educational ministries is both eminently
proper in itself, and eminently productive of good, as
furnishing the best possible conditions for improving
THE CHRISt MISSION. 30^
and exalting the whole man, and this accords with the
teaching and practice of the Master himself.
But prayer must be 'Hn spirit and in triUh.^''
At this point Christianity attains its highest eleva-
tion as a religion. But, it is at this point, precisely,
that it differs most from the Old Religions. Behold
the crowds of heathen worshippers on their knees, or
prostrate in the dust, or on weary pilgrimages, and
in their temples !
Behold their priesthood, and their sacrifices ! Their
externalism ! The Supreme Being, who cares nothing
for them personally, can only be worshipped through
shrines and symbols — through offered victims and
burnt incense ! What a mockery of High Heaven, if,
indeed, religion is an affair of the heart — if worship is
a concern that lies between the individual soul and
God — each for himself, as taught in the New Religion.
*^The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in
pain until now," the benighted creature, ^^waiting, in
earnest expectation, the manifestation of the sons of
God." No journey was too long, no sacrifice too great
to be made, to bring the pilgrim worshipper, at least
once in his life, to the sacred shrine, where he could
bow before his God, and worship. In all lands the
burden of religion was too intolerable to be borne. It
was crushing out the best life of the world.
The Founder of the Christian system, from heights
of spiritual vision which had never been attained,
called down to the benighted masses — '^Awake, and
sing, ye that dwell in the dust, for thy dew is as the
308 THE NEW RELIGION,
dew of herbs, and the earth shaU cast out the dead.'*
Isa. 26: ig. ^^Ye worship ye know not what. Beheve
me, the hour cometh, and now is, when the true wor-
shipper shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth. ' ^
Your sacrifices avail you nothing. Your massive
temples and gilded altars are voiceless and dumb and
avail 3^ou nothing. Your priests are human and sinful
and have need to cry to God for mercy on themselves.
They can not cancel your sins, nor bear away your
prayers to the ear of the Most High. They can not
return God's blessing upon your souls. Ye worship
ye know not what. If you want the Father's blessing,
if you want to draw near to him and ^^order your cause
before him," ^^Enter into your closet" — leave your
altars and officiating priests, your ritual and ceremony,
outside, and, having shut thy door, worship God in
spirit — ^^pray to the Father who is in secret, and the
Father, who seeth in secret, shall reward you openly,"
How like a revelation was all this to the shell-bound
devotees of externalism ! It summons the individual
into the presence of God. It removes out of the way
all external intervention and awkward machinery upon
which the feeble votary may place a false dependence;
it opens the sky and the sunlight to those groping their
ways through the dark. It brings to light ^'Life and
Immortality."
For the early disciples, at least, the power of this
externalism was broken. A ''Pe7itecosf^ had become
possible. They went forth the heralds of a more
direct, a more simple, a more spiritual and efficient
THE CHRIST MISSION ^6g
gospel of truth. Not a Christian church was
built for two hundred years ; but the success and
progress of the gospel were phenomenal, as all
historians agree. It was the simple truth as it is in
Jesus Christ the Son of God. It had not then been
loaded down with doctrine and dogma. It was not
under the espionage of an argus-eyed hierarchy, jealous
of heresy. It had not been hedged about and built
upon with the ritual and ceremony of an all-embracing
ecclesiasticism, and it succeeded as it always has suc-
ceeded and always does succeed when properly pre-
sented. In that day Paul said, what he would yet
say, ^^it is the power of God unto salvation."
But if the power of externalism had been broken,
the tendency toward it had not been destroyed. Alas !
So many seem incapable of any large spiritual devel-
opment ! They feed on mere sense impressions. A
little thinking wearies and exhausts them. They must
call upon others for help. They constantly tend back-
ward from the advanced position to which the great
Teacher would bring them. For the millions of the
Roman and Greek churches time has gone back upon
the ^^hour" which ^^cometh and now is," when the true
worshipper shall ^ ^worship the Father in spirit and in
truth." They are again sunken into an all-pervading
formalism, sickening in the proofs of its utter shallow-
ness and superstition.
Nor has Protestantism entirely escaped the engulf-
ing tendency. It, too, has a surplus of doctrine and
dogma, of symbol and ceremony. It, too, is living
316 THE NEW RELIGION.
too much In the letter of God's word, too little m its
spirit and power, as a dead formalism, apparent
throughout the Protestant world, sufficiently proves.
CHAPTER XXX.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
^Tf thou bring thy gift to the altar and there remem
berest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave
there thy gift, first go and be reconciled to thy brother
and then come and offer thy gift."
When the angels gathered together over the infant
Jesus, and sang praises to God, they indicated the
cause of their rejoicing — they had a prophetic vision
of the blessed work the little mysterious stranger had
come to accomplish. However figurative, or even
legendar}^, this account of the evangelists may be
thought to be, the story fairly outlines the purpose
and life-work of the new-born world's Savior. Seven
hundred years before the rapt Isaiah had a vision of a
good time coming when, adopting his own strong
metaphors, ^'the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and
the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf
and the young lion and the fatling together ; and a
little child shall lead them ; and the cow and the bear
shall feed together, and their young lie down together,
and the lion shall eat straw like an ox, and the suck-
ing child shall play upon the hole of the asp, and the
weaned child shall put his hand on the den of the
addci when they shall not hurt nor destroy in all my
^12 THE NEW RELIGION.
holy mountain, and the earth shall be full of the
knowledge of the Lord." Isaiah ii: 6-10.
It seems that the ^^angel and a multitude of the
heavenly host" had discovered that the time had come
for introducing this glorious era of peace and good
will, and that the chief actor in this drama of reform,
was about to take the stage. In such prophesies as
that of Isaiah, time counts but little. According to
our chronology, which, however, is little better than
mere guesswork, when relating to events in that early
age, seven hundred years transpired before Jesus
announced that this good time — ^^the kingdom of
heaven is at hand."
But he had come to hasten it. And how he worked
for it, lived for it, died for it, we learn with gratitude
from the joint story of the four evangelists.
Paul said, ^'If it be possible, live peaceably with all
men. ' '
Many other teachers had said as much. But Jesus
puts it stronger — very much stronger than this.
Ye have heard that it hath been said ye shall love
thy neighbor and hate thine enemy. But in the Chris-
tian code there is no place for hate — absolutely none,
except the hate one should always have, and must
have (if he himself is good) against evil itself — against
evil as such. I say, hate not your enemies. This old
teaching is wrong. So far from hating, you should
love your enemies — yes, actually love them. Should
do good to them, pray for them, as you will be sure to
do if you really love them. This is the way to bring
THE CHRIST MISSION. 313
in peace on earth and good will to men. This will
put a stop to quarreling and bitterness — will reform
and save men.
But more than this. On an occasion his disciples
say to him, '^John taught his disciples how to pray —
Lord, teach us to pray;" and, after some prelimina-
ries, he consents — ^^ After this manner therefore pray
ye — ^Our Father which art in Heaven,' etc., * ^ 'forgive
us our trespasses as we forgive them who trespass
against us."" " This kind of praying would hardly be
safe for some people, especially if there were any dan-
ger of their prayer being granted. It might prove to
be a serious thing for them, to be forgiven only as they
forgive, because they never forgive at all. You want
to make your peace with God — to realize that, through
his mercy and grace, the account is square.
Have you made your peace with men, those with
whom you have done business, with whom you have
had misunderstanding and clash of interests? If not,
you cannot make your peace with God — at least, you
cannot until you have exhausted all the resources of
good will, in an effort to make your peace with men.
No, you cannot. Don't bank on your general good
character, on your honest purposes, on your church
relations and accredited piety, none of it. Unless
you have it in your heart to forgive them who have
trespassed against you, whatever else you may ask,
don't ask the Father in Heaven to forgive you. He
will not forgive you^ at least so says the Son of Man —
the Lord Christ.
314 THE ISTEW RELIGION.
''If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there remenl-
berest that thy brother hath aught against thee" —
then what? Ask the Heavenly Father to forgive you
any wrong you may have done him? No. Resolve to
do better hereafter and go on with your offering? No.
Shut your eyes upon the past and go on with your
offering? No. But leave there thy gift, and go, first
be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer
thy gift. Possibly 'twere hard to do this — humiliating.
It may require all your moral courage, but there is no
alternative. Leave there thy gift, be reconciled.
There is something better for 3/ou, and more important,
than the perfunctory services of religion. Your
approach to the Father must begin at the point of your
greatest distance from him. You can blink nothing.
You must make a clean breast of it. You may not
have much against your brother, may have nothing,
but he has something against you. He thinks you
have wronged him, and he is hurt, bleeding. Leave
there thy gift. Go prove to him in some way, that at
least you did not intend to injure him, that if you have
done so you are sorry for it, and will make the ame?tde
honorable. You can recover his confidence in any one
of a hundred ways, if your heart is free to it. Leave
there thy gift, first, be reconciled to thy brother, then
come and offer thy gift. Why! you say this peace-
making business seems to be a serious thing? It is.
It is as serious and sacred as religion itself. It is
impossible but that offences shall come. At best, we-
are short-sighted, imperfect creatures, very liable to
THE CHRIST MISSION. 315
err, subject to passions that sway us to and fro, and it
is morally certain that offences will come. They will
come through reckless unconcern, come through strong
temptation, come through mere inattention, come
sometimes in spite of good intentions, but woe to him
through whom they come. The liabilities and temp-
tations to sin on the part of him who is offended are
increased. The sensitive soul is pained. All heart-
breaks bleed. But if peace and good will prevail,
they will be less serious, and the injury inflicted will
be mutually borne and easily expiated — when ^ ^war-
ring passions cease their strife." Love dissolves sel-
fishness, and throws her sheen of bliss over all the
knots and scars of ill-directed sensibility and former
ill will.
In Christian thinking, peace and good will are in-
vested with all the sanctions of religion. The favor
of God and the hope of heaven are staked upon them.
With enmity cherished in your heart, you dare not
repeat the Lord's Prayer in concert at church, nor at
the family altar, nor think it in the solitude of your
own soul. With enmity in your heart, you dare not
enter into your own closet and shut the door, with
intent to pray to the Father who seeth in secret, unless
it be to cry out with the publican, ^^God be merciful
to me a sinner." This peacemaking business is a
serious and important one. To go on with it properly
you must have love for your neighbor, even for your
enemies, if you have any. Philanthropy is the need
of the hour and of the life. And, ''Blessed are the
3l6 THE NEW RELIGION.
peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of
God/' The great All-Father cherishes an ardent love
for every struggling child of humanity for what he is,
or may become, on his own account, and he who ap-
proaches him for succor and blessing, must do so
willing to meet every brother man at the same shrine,
and share with the same blessing.
CHAPTER XXXI.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
Whatever may the nature or extent of the
change postulated by the Founder of the New
ReHgion as necessary to the regenerate hfe of the
sinner, the fact that it can be speedily effected under
conditions subject to one's control is one of the most
momentous consequence — a fact so great in its prac-
tical possibilities as to warrant a halt in all other pro-
cesses of reform, and demand a readjustment of
reformatory agencies. The fact has had some recog-
nition in Christian circles, but it has not been gener-
ally relied on for half its value. It will help our con-
victions on the subject to note results as they have
appeared among men whom we know.
The Evangelical record is brief, but we have sig-
nificant historical outlines. It is sufficient to note
that the twelve peasants who became the disciples of
Jesus, during their novitiate of three years, became a
college of religious teachers whose respective habits
and moral characters were in the meantime, with one
exception, greatly changed and greatly improved.
On occasions they had manifested a disgraceful sel-
fishness and cowardice;^ but at least from the Pente-
I. Mark lo: 37; Luke 9: 54, Mark 14: 50.
3l8 THE NEW RELIGION.
cost onward they evinced a very different spirit, attest-
ing their fidelity to the right with heroic firmness,
even to the point of martyrdom. Luke tells us that
^^with great power, gave the Apostles witness of the
resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace rested
on them all. "^ They were reborn.
In the meantime others also had been ^ ^converted. "
''The half of my goods," said the Chief Publican, 'T
give to the poor, and, if I have taken anything from
any one wrongfully, I will restore him four fold."^
And the Master said unto him, ''To-day is salvation
come to this house."
It is said that Jesus cast seven devils out of one
Mary. Whatever this may mean, she at least ever
afterwards appears as a most affectionate and beauti-
ful character. And there were others of her intimate
acquaintance and companionship who seem to have
come into a like experience and character.
Just how Nicodemus himself was affected we are
not told. We notice, however, that in the face of the
mob, and at the risk of his life, he stood for giving
the accused, whom he thought to be a teacher come
from God, a fair trial, and, after the crucifixion,
doing more than any of the "disciples," he united
with Joseph in giving the crucified Lord a respect-
ful interment.
The case of Peter is a clear one. How he had, on
1. Acts 4: 3.
2. Luke 19: 8.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 319
various occasions, given proof of a ruling s Jfishness;
how he, though the acknowledged chief of the disci-
ples, yet denied his Lord with an oath, and, with the
rest of them, forsook him and fled, is matter of
impartial record. His moral cowardice is especially
conspicuous and humiliating. But at last the depths
of his selfish nature are touched by a crushing sense
of guilt, and the vehement, worldly-minded Peter
awakes to a new life.
Let us hasten to note that the angry tumult had
hardly died upon the air until Peter, facing and defy-
ing the same murderous authorities from whom he
had lately fled in terror, says, speaking for himself to
John: '^We choose to obey God rather than man."
^^The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye
slew and hanged on a tree, to be a Prince and a Savior,
to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins,
and we are witnesses of these things."^
With what pleasure do we turn this page in the
life of Peter and John. From this time forward Peter
always boldly and bravely stood in the very front of
the battle. ^^Old things were passed away.'' For
thirty-four years, through heroic self-sacrifice, through
persecutions and prisons, and threatened death, he
maintained his Christian integrity, leading and honor-
ing the cause of the New Religion, especially among
the Jews.
In his letter addressed to the ^ ^strangers scattered
J, Acts 18; 39.
320 THE NEW RELIGION.
throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and
Bithynia," he included himself among those who have
been ^ ^begotten again to a lively hope of an inheritance
incorruptible, and that fadeth not away, reserved in
heaven; ''' * being born again, not of corruptible
seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which
liveth and abideth forever * called out of darkness
into his marvelous light. "^
The impress of the Master's influence upon Peter's
new life is unmistakably plain. '^What glory is it if,
when ye — we — be buffeted for our faults we shall take
it patiently? But if, when we do well and suffer for
it, we take it patiently, this is acceptable with God.
For even hereunto we are called, because Christ also
suffered for us, leaving us an example that we should
follow his steps, who, when he was reviled, reviled
not again, when he suffered, threatened not, but com-
mitted himself to him that judgeth righteously. "^
But Paul's experience furnishes a most striking
illustration and proof of the possibility of a speedy
and permanent change of character, under the Chris-
tian regime. Behold him to-day, the merciless arch
bigot, ^ ^breathing out threatening and slaughter,"
and going armed with authority to bring the humble
disciples of the Lord Jesus to judgment and to death.
But to-morrow the humble and teachable convert
inquiring, ^^Lord, what wilt thou have me do?"
I I Peter, Chap, i and 2.
2, I Peter, Chap; I ^nd 2,
THE CHRIST MISSION. 32 1
Standing by with hard impenitence he had ''held the
the clothes of Stephen," while the mob brutally mur-
dered him. He had ''made havoc with the church,
entering into every house and hailing men and women,
committed them to prison." He had gone to the
High Priest and "obtained letters to the Damascus
Synagogue, that if he found any of this way, whether
they were men or women, he m.ight bring them bound
to Jerusalem." He was a good lawyer, a man of fine
parts and fine scholarship. He could have succeeded
and won place and power. He might at least have
gone on with his business and let this bloody work
alone. The authorities had not sought him for this
nerve-testing business. He voluntarily took it up,
and went forth with a zeal v/orthy of a better cause.
We can hardly imagine a fiercer or more dispassionate
bigot, a more deliberate perpetrator of high crimes
against humanity.
But after that Damascus episode, let us note that
Saul was a very different kind of man. He writes to
the Romans: "Let us not judge one another any
more! Let every one be fully persuaded in his own
mind!" Saul of Tarsus, what has haj)pened! What
is it you say? ''Let us ?iot Judge 07ie another any
inorey "Why dost thou set at naught thy brother?"
"We shall all stand before the judgment seat of
Christ."
And this is Saul! ^'If eating meat make my brother
to offend, I will eat no more meat while the world
stands," You are very considerate, Saul — very ten-
322 THE NEW RELIGION.
der and kind to your brother — very different, it seems,
from what you were before that Damascus ride
What has happened? ^^Old things are passed away,
behold all things are become new." Saul, the obdu-
rate persecutor, has emerged into a new world.
Henceforth, with all his great powers, he was sim-
ple-hearted, child-like, transparent. His transforma-
tion is complete. His intolerance and bigotry are
gone. His hardness of heart and want of sympathy
are gone. The spirit of persecution is gone. The cur-
rent of life's forces sets in another direction. The
Lord Jesus Christ has come to be all in all. If he
had been narrow and selfish, his narrowness and sel-
fishness had gone. After that voice and that light on
his way to Damascus, and his interview with Ananias
in the house of Judas, he buries himself in the Arabian
desert for three years. Why? We are not told, but
probably to commune more at length with God in
prayer and meditation, to obtain the clearest possible
understanding of what he should do, and to prepare
himself for the responsible work which now was open-
ing up before him. He '^conferred not with flesh and
blood," he tells us, but yielding to the divine call, he
went forth a chosen vessel to bear the name of the
Lord to the Gentiles, to kings, and to the children of
Israel.^
How heroically and successfully he fulfilled his high
commission, and how faithfully and closely he fol-
j, Actg9: 15.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 323
lowed the great Exemplar and honored his cause is
matter of delightful history. He was ^ ^converted."
Other cases could be given by the hundred and the
thousand — apposite, beautiful! — some of them about
as striking and decisive as that of Paul, and to the
same effect; so fully does experience explain and
enforce the teaching of the Lord Jesus Christ on the
subject.
Justin Martyr, living half a century after Paul, says:
''We who formerly delighted in fornication now strive
for purity. We who used magical arts have dedi-
cated ourselves to the good and eternal God. We
who loved the acquisition of wealth more than all else
now bring what we have into the common stock and
give to every one in need. We who hailed and
destroyed one another, now live familiarly with each
other. We pray for our enemies; we endeavor to
persuade those who hate us unjustly to live conforma-
bly to the beautiful precepts of Christ, to the end they
may become partakers with us of the same joyful
hope."^
When fifty years later the Christians of Bithynia
were brought before the tribunal of the younger Pliny,
they assured the Pro- Consul, that far from being
engaged in any unlawful conspiracy, they were bound
by a solemn obligation to abstain from the commis-
sion of those crimes which disturb the public peace
of society — from theft, robbery and fraud. * * ''The
I. Conflict of Chris. Heathenism, p. 166.
324 THE NEW RELIGION.
friends of Christianity," says Pliny, ^^may acknowl-
edge without a blush that many of the most eminent
saints had been, before their baptism (conversion),
among the most abandoned."
Nor was the transforming power of the Christian
Gospel limited to the early ages of the church, nor to
tlie respectable circles of society.
The Lord Jesus gave large attention to the poorest
and most degraded classes. So conspicuously true is
this that some have thought that the Christ mission to
this world was only to the poor. But such a view
surely is quite too narrow and inadequate. He did,
however, have hope of them — carried them most of
all on his heart.
The Christianity of the times seems to be drifting
toward the wealthy and pseudo ^ ^better classes."
The down-town churches are getting away from the
crowded marts out upon ^'avenues" and ^ ^boulevards,"
and away from the ragged masses. Fine churches
are built by the wealthy, and for the wealthy, and
comparatively few of the more degraded classes ever
get into them, or hear the gospel anywhere. They
seldom see anything distinctly Christian, and the con-
viction seems to prevail that they are so sin-hardened
and debased as to be practically out of the reach of
the gospel. The very classes of people which
appealed most strongly to the sympathy and the help
of the Master are the most neglected. But, as in the
days of the Son of Man, so in these days, the power
of the gospel to save men from sin is often strikingly
THE CHRIST MISSION. 325
and beautifully illustrated by the conversion of some
of the worst characters. With the hope of awaken-
ing increased interest in the unfortunate victims of
ignorance and crime, who yet constitute so large a
per cent, of the population, I give the following cases
illustrating the specifically Christian modus operandi
and its results. It seems to me that Christians them-
selves need to be again reminded of the powers and
possibilities of the Christian gospel.
The following quotation from Rev. Irenaeus Prime,
D. D., will explain itself: ^ ^Returning home after
my summer recess in 1884, I had not been in my
house five minutes when a gentleman called to ask me
to conduct the funeral of Jerry McAuley. Is he dead?
I asked in a burst of mingled surprise and emotion
* * * The next day was the Sabbath. The funeral
was to be in the afternoon. As the hour approached,
and indeed all day, my thoughts had been dwelling
on the fact that New York had no consciousness of
the loss it had met. * * * Very few knew or
cared for Jerry McAuley. We are going to the
Broadway Tabernacle to talk of what he was and
what he had done, to a little congregation that will
gather there; if it were Dr. Taylor, the beloved and
honored pastor, the house would be crowded, and the
mourners would go about the streets, but poor Jerry,
he is dead, and who will be there to weep over his
remains! Ah, how little did I know the place he
filled in the heart of this great city. * * *
^^As I turned down Fifth avenue, through Thirty-
326 THE NEW RELIGION.
fourth street, I saw a vast multitude standing in the
sunshine, filhng the streets and the square in front of
the Tabernacle. Astonished at the spectacle, and
wondering why they did not go in and take seats in
the church, I soon found that the church was packed
with people. * * * * *
'^And then eloquent lips spoke of him, and the
great good done by him in fields of labor uninviting
and often repelling those who care for the souls of the
perishing among us. It was said that no one pastor in
New York is doing the work of this humble man — no
pastor who will leave a wider vacancy when he falls,
on the high-places in the field of duty.*'^
Jerry McAuley was a river-thief and criminal
rough, convicted and sent to the penitentiary at Sing-
Sing, in the state of New York, some years ago.
*^I was only nineteen years of age," he says, '^when
arrested for highway robbery — a child in years, but a
man in sin. I had spent my time in the vile dens
of Water street. New York, practicing all sorts of
wickedness. Here I learned to be a prize-fighter,
and, by rapid degrees, rose through all the grades of
vice and crime till I became a terror and a nuisance
in the Fourth Ward.
*^I had no friends, no advocate at court, and, with-
out just cause, I was sentenced to fifteen years in the
state prison. I burned with vengeance, but what could.
I do? I was handcuffed and sent in the cars to Sing-
Sing^;
I. Introduc. Life and works Jerry McAuley.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 327
This sufficiently indicates his character and position
in life. Let us follow him as he approaches the crisis
of reform. He continues:
^^When I had been in the prison four years, one
Sunday morning I went with the rest to service in the
chapel.
^'I was moody and miserable. As I took my seat I
raised my eyes carelessly to the platform, and who
should I see there but a man named Orville Gardner,
who had been for years a confederate in sin — ^ Awful
Gardner' was the name by which I had always known
him. Since my imprisonment he had been converted
and was filled with a desire to visit the prison that he
might tell the glad story to the prisoners. I had not
heard of his coming, and could not have been more
surprised if an angel had come down from heaven. * *
After the first look I began to question in my own mind
if it was he after all, and I thought I must be mis-
taken. But the moment he spoke I was sure, and
my attention was held fast.
^^He said he did not feel that he belonged on the
platform, where ministers and good men stand to
preach the gospel to prisoners — that he was not worthy
of such a place; so he came down and stood in front of
the desk, that he might be among them. He told them
that it was only a little while since he had taken off
the stripes which they were then wearing, and while he
was talking the tears fairly rained down out of his eyes.
When he kneeled down and prayed and sobbed and
cried, I do not believe there was a dry eye in the
328 THE NEW RELIGION.
whole crowd. Tears filled my eyes, and I raised my
hand slowly to wipe them off, for I was ashamed to
have my companions or the guards see me weep. * I
knew this man was no hypocrite. We had been asso-
ciated in many a dark deed and sinful pleasure. I
had heard oaths and curses and vile angry words
from his mouth, and I knew he could not talk as he
did unless some great change had come to him. I
devoured every word that fell from his lips. * "^
^^I went back to my cell and what I heard was ring-
ing in my ears."
Time passes, but he could not forget his old-time
friend. He says: ^T was resting one night from
walking up and down and thinking what a change
religion had made on Gardner, when I began to
have a burning desire to have the same. I could not
get rid of it, but what could I do?"
Retried to pray, but could not ^^form a prayer."
Remembered the publican's prayer, but was ashamed
to say it. A great struggle ensued. ^ 'Every sin,"
he says, ^'stared me in the face. T am so wicked,' I
thought — everything but a murderer, and that many
a time in my will." A crushing sense of sin rested
upon him for some weeks. ''But at last," he says,
"the Lord sent a softness and tenderness into my
soul, and I shed many tears. Then I began to read
the bible on my knees. The Sunday services seemed
to do me no good. They were dead to me.
"About this time Miss D. began to visit the
prison, and I was sent for one day to meet her in the
THE CHRIST MISSION. 329
library. She talked with me, and then knelt down to
pray. I felt ashamed, but I knelt beside her. 1
looked through my fingers and watched her. I saw
her tears fall. An awe I cannot describe fell on
me. It seemed dreadful to me — the prayer of that
holy woman. It made my sins rise up till they
looked to me as if they rose clear up to the throne of
God. * What should I do? O what can a poor
sinner do when there is nothing between him and
God but a life of dark and terrible sin?"
He closes this tragic account as follows:
^^That night I fell on my knees on the hard stone
floor of my cell, resolved to stay there, whatever
might happen, until I found forgiveness. I was
desperate. >h ^ic * h^
'^I prayed and stopped, prayed again and stopped,
my knees were rooted to those cold stones. * I was
determined to stay till morning, till I was called to
work. And then, I said to myself, if I did not get
relief, I will never pray again. I felt that I might
die, but didn't care for that.
'^All at once it seemed as if something supernatural
was in my room. I was afraid to open my eyes. I
was in an agony, and the sweat rolled off from my
face in great drops. O how I longed for God's mercy!
Just then, in the very height of my distress, it seemed
as if a hand was laid upon my head, and these words
came to me: *My son, thy sins, which are many, are
forgiven. ' I do not know if I heard a voice, yet the
words were distinctly spoken to my soul. O the
330 THE NEW RELIGION.
precious Christ! * What a thrill went through me!
I jumped from my knees; I paced up and down my
cell. A heavenly light seemed to fill it. * I did not
know whether I was living or not. I clasped my
hands and shouted — Praise God, praise God."
We have now to note that Mr. McAuley was in due
time released from prison on a governor's pardon,
and, after tripping a few times, through the force of
old associations and bad habits, he finally became an
exemplary Christian and a very useful man.
He founded two successful missions and a religious
journal in New York, and for sixteen 3^ears he labored
among the most abandoned classes of the great city,
with the most signal and gratifying success, being
instrumental in the reformation of hundreds of notori-
ous criminals. He was born of the Spirit.
Mr. McAuley gives the following account of one of
the converts at his mission: ^'A professional gam-
bler, William Fitz Morris, * was converted. He gave
some fearful descriptions of his terrible business, and
the scenes he had witnessed while engaged in it. He
told how men of families would come in and stake,
little by little, their earnings until every cent was
gone; then, fascinated by the game, they would strip
off their clothing, piece by piece, until the}'^ could go
no further. He told of young girls sent by their
mothers to buy * 'policy slips" for them — sent into
these hell-holes, amid the cursing and obscenity of
the lowest there, by their own mothers, until, step by
step, they began to be crazed over the game and
THE CHRIST MISSION. 33I .
would buy for themselves * * and in the end sell
themselves to get money to gamble with. His reve-
lations were published in the daily papers, and his
old associates became so enraged they threatened to
kill him. We kept him and protected him from their
fury. His health continued to fail, and we expected
soon to have the task of laying him in his grave. He
did not fear death, but continued strong in his faith
and clear in the assurance of his acceptance with God
through Jesus Christ. *'
The following case is given because it illustrates,
on the one hand, the possible depths of human
depravity, and on the other, the possibilities of reform,
by methods peculiarly Christian:
^^There was a certain man called ^Rowdy Brown,'
a great, powerfully-built, courageous fellow, who was
a terror to the Fourth Ward. He had been a mate
on the Liverpool packets, and was a savage brute.
Once he happened to see a man sitting on the fore-
castle reading his bible, and, without a word or sign
of provocation. Brown drew back his heavy boot and
kicked the poor fellow square in the mouth, knocking
his teeth out and disfiguring him cruelly. * * *
He seemed utterly fearless of consequence to himself,
as he proved one day by standing and cursing a man
to his face, who stood with a revolver in each hand,
and fired their contents into his body. He was
charged with several murders and other heinous
crimes. * It happened that one of his sailor chums
bad been converted^ and wa3 attending the meetings.
332 THE NEW RELIGION.
Brown was mad when he heard of it. Swearing a
great oath, he said, ^I will take a bottle of whisky
down there, and when that fellow gets up to talk I will
take him *" * tear his mouth open, and pour the
whisky down him, or break his back in the attempt.'
He came round with his bottle and waited for his old
companion to testify in order to carry out his plan.
While waiting he listened to others, and listening
he became interested, until all of a sudden he felt
a strong feeling come over him, and he began to
tremble. He fought it off with all his natural obsti-
nacy, but it was of no use — it continued to grow
stronger, and when his friend rose to testify this
human lion was as tame as a lamb. When the testi-
monies were ended, and sinners were invited to come
forward. Brown stood up and cried out, ^O pray for
me.' Everything was in a state of quiet, but intense
excitement for a moment, for many present knew his
desperate character. How he cried for mercy! It
was awful to hear that man groan and beg. His
strong body was racked with the anguish of his soul.
He continued seeking in this manner, until the meet-
ing closed, but apparently without encouragement.
On the second night, after getting into bed, he was
praying earnestly, when suddenly the light broke into
his heart."
For the rest of his story let it suffice to say that he
lived a consistent Christian life, was active in helping
the mission, and died believing that God, .for Christ's
sake, bad pardoned all his great sipis,
THE CHRIST MISSION. 333
The following touching story is so beautiful and so
illustrates the Christian method of reform and its
power to reach and to save even the most degraded, I
shall be pardoned for quoting it somewhat at length:
^^One night a beautiful little child about five years
old came to the door. She was a lovely little thing,
with bright blue eyes and long golden curls — a perfect
little picture, notwithstanding the poor care she had
received. She turned to the m.an at the door and
asked, 'Say mister, wont you please let me in? PI]
be good if you will.' 'Oh no,' he said looking
down at the little waif. 'You couidn t behave.'
'Yes I will, I'll be awful good. 'Caus' I want to
hear the singing. ' He yielded to her entreaties, and
she went in, and folding her little hands on her lap, sat
as quiet as a mouse until the meeting closed. The
next evening she came again leading by the hand
another little girl, younger than herself, but looking very
much like her. She again asked permission to go in,
and having referred to her good behavior the previous
night, it was granted. They walked deliberately up
to the front seat, and, lifting her little sister well up on
the bench, Mollie sat down beside her, and closely
watched everything that was said or done. They
behaved beautifully and at the close of the meeting
my wife kissed them both, and gave them a chunk of
cake each, and they ran out happy enough.
"This happened several nights and they always got
their kiss and cake.
^^Qm night during th^ meeting, the mother of the
334 ^^^ ^^^ RELIGION.
little girls came to the door of the church and asked
if the children were there. The man replied, he
thought they were; when she said, ^I'll be thankful to
ye mister, if you will go in and kick them two chil-
dren out.' ^We don't do things that way here,' said
the man; when she called ^Mollie, Mollie Rollins,
come out here/ Poor little Mollie turned pale, and
trembled, and looked at me with such a frightened
look, like a scared bird. The mother screamed out
her name again and added, T'll give it to you going in
there with those black Protestants, you little wretch,'
and as poor Mollie came out dragging her little sister
after her, the drunken mother caught her by the
beautiful curly hair, and flung her clear off the
ground. ^PU kill you, if you go in there again; and,
do they give you any beer in there? Say?'
^^The poor little thing looked up, though the tears
were in her eyes, and said, 'O mamma, aint you awful!
They don't drink any beer in there, and they don't
get drunk neither.'
*^The next night just as service commenced, in
walked Mollie and Jennie again. *Aint you afraid
your mother will kill you.' -^Oh no,' she answered
quickly, as she turned her blue e^es up to my face,
^I aint afraid. I like the singing.'
^'Everybody around the mission .oved those dar-
lings, and was pleased to have them there. We
missed them for two or three evenings, and afterwards
learned the father had returned from a sea-voyage.
The husband and wife both went on a terrible spree.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 335
with the money he brought, until finally he brutally
turned the mother and little ones out of the house,
into the cold October night air. That night Mrs.
McAuley heard her name called; she listened a
moment, and recognized Mollie's voice calling from
the street, ^Mrs. McAuley, O Mrs. McAuley, come
down, I want to tell you something.' After a minute
the little voice rang out again, ^Mrs. McAuley, O
Mrs. McAuley.' On going down, my wife learned
that the father had put them out, and they had been
on the roof. As the wind blew cold the little one said
to her mother, ^Mamma, I know a place where the
wind wont blow, and where we wont be afraid.'
^Where's that?' asked her mother. ^Over in the mis-
sion,' said the child. My wife came up stairs saying
to me, ^Mrs. Rollins is there with her children. I
have let them in. I believe it may be the salvation
of that woman' s soul. ' We took them up stairs, where
we had the only accommodation the old mission house
afforded. It was a rickety affair, but it was the best
we could do. There was a straw tick, and a few old
quilts, and as they turned in Mollie looks up to her
mother and says ^thank God mother, we have a good
bed to night.'
^^In the morning we gave them their breakfast —
the same as we had ourselves, and sat with them at
table. We never mentioned anything to the mother
about her conduct, but treated them kindly, and, after
breakfast, they left.
<'This was the first step toward reaching that poor
336 THE NEW RELIGION.
woman, and it turned out that the little acts of kind-
ness were not lost.
''The man, having spent his money, went off to sea
again, but left the family his advance money, and this
was the mother's opportunity for another big spree,
and she made the most of it. She spread it every-
where, and soon the money was gone. But rum must
be had, and one thing after another went to the pawn-
shop, till there was nothing left that would bring a
penny. The poor children were dirty and unwashed,
and their hair was all matted and tangled, and they
looked fearful. They came in one day, their lips blue
with cold. My wife warmed them, combed out their
hair, and curled it beautifully over their foreheads.
She then begged two little dresses from a friend, who
had some small girls; the dresses were somewhat
worn, but were neat and clean, and the dear little
things were happy as larks. When they went over
where their mother was drinking she hardly recog-
nized them. 'Oh,' said she, 'what happened to you?
Who did that?' The rumseller's wife remarked,
'Why, Vd never known them!' 'Nor I,' said the
mother. 'I hardly knew them myself. Well, you
look good anyhow.'
"This was the second blow at that hard heart.
"Shortly after this the long spree began to tell on
Mrs. Rollins, and she was taken sick; and after suffer-
ing awhile she sent Mollie over after my wife; this being
the first move toward us she had ever made, we hailed
it with joy. My wife went as requested, accompanied
THE CHRIST MISSION. 337
by a friend, and oh, what a miserable sight there met
their eyes! The room was robbed of everything mova-
ble but the remains of a bed; fragments of dirty
dishes scattered all around the dirty floor, the room
cheerless, fireless, comfortless. They found her
stretched with the horrors (delirium tremens), and
without saying much to her straightened up the room,
made a fire after getting some coal, and then the
friend went home and brought over a pitcher full of
good, strong hot tea, told her to drink it, which she
did in a hurry. This helped her somewhat and they
talked to her about her condition and prayed with her.
^^These acts of kindness were the hardest blows of
all to her prejudices, and she broke down and said,
*If ever I get well of this spell I'm going to come
over, Mrs. McAuley, and see you at the mission.'
She got well, and one night she came into the mis-
sion during the meeting. We were singing. The
stone rolled away, when she screamed right out, and
starting from her seat, ran through the kitchen think-
ing to get out that way. My wife followed quickly,
caught her, and then kneeling down prayed earnestly
with the poor sobbing creature. She found the Lord's
help, and he so sweetly saved ner, that it was appar-
ent to all. ' '
The rest of the story relates: how she was not
ashamed of her religion; how she was persecuted b}^
her Roman Catholic associates; how she fell sick with
consumption, and grew worse; how she loved those
who had been instrumental in redeeming her from a
338 THE NEW RELIGION.
life of sin and shame, and how, at last she sweetly
rested in the love of God and died. She was ^^con-
verted."
A case is given of a man fifty-four years of age who
had spent more than half his life in English and
American prisons. His parents were thieves before
him. When eight years old he was in prison with his
mother and his aunt. He had been transported to
Van Dieman's land for seven years, was sent to
Australia for ten years, and to Gibralter for five
years — had been in a solitary cell for three years,
without being permitted to pass out of it. His back
cut into gashes testified to the punishment he had
suffered for disobedience. He said of himself, that^
coming out of prison, he tried to quit stealing, but
yet he continued to steal, had ^ ^stealing on the
brain.''
But he was converted. He makes this state-
ment:
^^When I came into this mission on the i8th day of
March, 1878, I vvas just down from ^Sing-Sing,'
where I had been four years. But God has taken the
desire for stealing out of my heart, and put a better
desire there. I have not had a thought to steal since.
I am trying to serve God now. I ask an interest in
your prayers. McAuley's Life and Work, p. 202.
These cases must suffice, though I find it difficult to
refrain from giving others, so beautifully do they
illustrate and corroborate the peculiarly Christian
spirit and modus operandi of saving men from sin.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 33^
Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith
the Lord.
Stronger than death or hell,
The sacred power we prove,
And, conquerors of the world, we dwell
In heaven, who dwell in love."
CHAPTER XXXII.
The Ministry of Doctrine.
The Jews lived in expectation of a great deliverer.
The old theocracy had passed away. Their kings
were dead, and they had passed under the Roman
yoke.
But their prophets had assured them that a better
destiny awaited the descendants of Jacob.
^^Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given.
The government shall be upon his shoulders. * *
of his increase there shall be no end.*'^
^Tn the days of those kings the God of Heaven
shall set up a kingdom, which shall never be
destroyed. * * His kingdom is an everlasting
kingdom, and his dominion from generation to
generation."^
This was the impassioned language of prophet and
seer, which led the Jews to hope for an empire, of
which the Old Theocracy was but a suggestion.
Answering to this expectation Jesus announces him-
self as the child of prophesy — or, at least, accepts
1. Isa. 9: 6.
2, Dan. 4: 3.
tttE CHRIST MISSION, 341*
such announcement as true, and assured them that
the long-expected kingdom is at hand.
But he was a great disappointment to them. They
had utterly failed to comprehend their own prophet?^.
They were living in the letter, their prophets had
written in the spirit.
Jesus sought in every way to lift them out of their
materialistic conceptions, but it seemed impossible.
They expected to enter the promised kingdom by
force of arms, and with the glory of conquest, and
they saw nothing in the humble Nazarene that gave
them hope. He was poor, and without rank or pres-
tige. Besides, he did not fall in with their views, or
enter into their hopes. And then they could not, or
at least did not, understand him.
Remaining habitually down among the poor and
obscure, he yet exhibited singular wisdom, and made
most extraordinary claims to authority and high kin-
ship with God.
The Jewish authorities could not, for a moment,
believe that he was the promised ^'Messiah.'*
And he was himself keenly alive to the danger of
being set down as an imposter, if not as a stark luna-
tic. Nothing could save him from such a judgment
but a life as unique and extraordinary as were his pre-
tensions. His life must be a constant sanction and
proof of his high claims. It must withstand the
ordeal of merciless criticism. It must secure him
against prejudice and bigotry, and protect him against
the disgrace arising from his associations.
342 THE NEW RELIGION.
As a matter of fact, the Lord Jesus found it exceed-
ingly difficult to make men believe that he was indeed
the Christ
And yet this, precisely, was what he must Ao, oefore
he could more than imperfectly begin his work proper.
Accordingly he improved every opportunity, and
spared no pains to impress this fact upon men, and to
build up their faith in him as such.
How he wrought miracles, lived a life of spotless
purity, manifested the divine power and the divine
love — how he opened up the way to life and immor-
tality, was crucified, raised from the dead, and in the
end was translated to heaven, are the more remarka-
ble incidents in his wonderful life, as given by his four
biographers, and repeated and confirmed by Paul and
others — all this is familiar to all conversant with these
scriptures; — a series of events certainly quite as
unique and remarkable as were his claims to the
Messiahship.
To further his purposes he chose twelve men who
became his disciples.
These he instructed in detail, and, by dint of repe-
tition, and fuller illustration, he sought to bring them
up to some adequate conception of his true character
and mission
But they seemed dull of understanding — often,
mdeed, gave sad proof of it. However, he made
some things plain, and won more and more upon
their faith and confidence.
He appealed to the scriptures, and bid the incredu-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 343
lous Jews to search the scriptures, to note what had
been written concerning him by Moses and by the
Prophets, and in the Psalms.
And, last of all, he appealed to his works — ^'If I do
not the works of the Father, believe me not, but if I
do, believe me for the work's sake."
But the current set heavily against mm; tne Sanhe-
drim, the Scribe, the Pharisee — the whole hierarchy,
were yet against him.
It was not until late in his ministry that he thought
it worth while to ask even his disciples, ^^Whom do
men say that I am?" They had had much better oppor-
tunities than the public generally, and it was to be
presumed that, if others had failed to comprehend
him, they, at least, had done so. ^^Whom do men
say that I am?" ^'Some say thou art John the Bap-
tist, some say Elias, others Jeremias, or one of the
Prophets." Matt. i6: 14. After all that he had done
to break his mission to the world, it seemed no one
had understood him. But ^'Whom say ye that I
am?" Peter replied, ^^We believe that thou art what
thou hast claimed to be, the Christ, the Son of the
living God." At last the disciples had caue^ht a
glimpse of his true character, and Peter, first of all
men, voiced the faith upon which he could proceed to
build his future work.
It is not to be supposed that his disciples more
than half comprehended their reply, for it is certain
that they yet expected he would some day assume
the reins of political power, and ^ ^restore the kingdom
344 I'HE NEW RELIGION.
to Israel." It is certain that, soon afterward, when
they saw their Master in the toils, they all ^'forsook
him and fled." But he had made an impression.
He had at least caused them to formulate the truth,
in their own words, and committed them to it. He
had gained a point, and was evidently pleased to
think that so much had been accomplished; and he
replied: ^^Blessed art thou, Simon, son of Jonas.
Flesh and blood have not revealed this to thee, but
my Father in Heaven."
He experienced a like satisfaction when the woman
in faith touched the hem of his garment, and again
when the centurion applied to him with such confi-
dence on behalf of his sick daughter. The truth was
actually getting out.
However, even after the drama of his world-life had
closed, there were yet but few who were convinced
that he was, indeed, the promised Messiah, and fewer
still who had any fair conception of his true character
and mission, — so difficult was it to inaugurate the
New Religion.
It is evident that, before he could fairly begin his
work proper, he must succeed in revealing himself.
Faith in himself, in the very nature of the case, must
constitute the base of his superstructure — the ^^rock"
Upon which he must build, as he intimated to the dis-
ciples, and this accounts for his evident solicitude
and purpose to make himself known in his true char-
acter, both before and after his resurrection. **I
came out from the Father and am come into the world.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 345
Again I leave the world and go to the Father — Ye
believe in God, believe also in me."
Here then there is for the Christian a quid creden-
dum — something to be assented to, to be believed—
Jesus is the Christ of God, the world's Messiah.
But Christian faith in its fullness means more.
And now we have to note that Jesus, at last
revealed and understood in his true character as the
Christ, proposed to establish friendly and most
intimate relations between himself and the world of
mankind — such relations as would infallibly secure to
men the development of spiritual capacity and power
otherwise unattainable.
He was always easily accessible, did not repulse
the most timid and consciously unworthy. He
explained at length, and often, how congeniality and
reciprocity could be established between himself and
those who would accept him. But one thing hin-
dered— indeed, it stood squarely in the way. Good
and evil are incompatible. Between virtue and vice
there is a ^^great gulf fixed."
If one has been doing wrong, fostering vice, he
must stop it. He must eschew evil and cleave to
that which is good. A sense of conscious guilt dis-
qualifies the impenitent guilty for society with the
good and pure. In the very nature of things it can-
not be otherwise.
But Jesus calls upon sinners to repent and turn
from wrong doing, and assures them that congeniality
and reciprocity with himself are yet possible.
346 THE NEW RELIGION.
He gives indubitable proof of his love for men —
even for the lowest and meanest. He exhorts men to
accept his overtures — to make common cause with
him, and share his blessing. He says ^Comeuntome
all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
As to all that concerns your life and happiness, I and
my Father are one. Whom I love the Father loves.
He that hath seen me hath seen the Father.'' I rep-
resent the Father. What I say to you I say not of
myself, but the Father speaks to you through me.
Come unto me, then; congenial and reciprocal with
me, you are so with the Father.
As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you
— abide ye in my love.
But Lord, thou art pure and holy and good — can
this scarred life of mine become in kind like thine?
You can hardly attain to that complete identification
with the Father and fullness of blessing which I
enjoy, hardly feel the strong pulses of love that throb
in my breast, hardly realize the heaven of peace and
satisfaction that reign in my experience. You have
been touched and damaged by sin, as I have not.
Your sky is overclouded, your spiritual faculties
blunted, but come unto me and you shall find that
sin has not destroyed your capacity for heaven and
happiness. I am the vine, ye are the branches. The
life that courses in the vine courses in the branches —
the same in kind — abide in me. Though scarred and
damaged by sin, you are not destroyed. Congeniality
and reciprocity with me and with the Father in
THE CHRIST MISSION. 347
Heaven are yet possible. Doubt it not. Created in
the image of God, you were born for such congeniality
and reciprocity^ and, lifted out of sin, you are quali-
fied for fellowship with the Son and with the Father.
^^I indeed baptize you with water," said John,
*^but one cometh after me mightier than I * he
will baptize you with the Spirit and with fire." What
are some of the conditions under which this baptism
of Spirit and fire takes place, have been noted in
former pages. Converted — born from above, you
enter into the kingdom of heaven, — you come into
congeniality and rapport with the Lord Jesus Christ —
you share his life and his joy. These things have I
spoken unto you that my joy might remain in you,
and that your joy might be full.
We note these two principal elements of Christian
faith — a belief — a quid credendum and a ^^trust" — a
quid fidendufji. The former is historical — objective,
the latter experimental — subjective.
It is the latter which Paul defines as the assurance
of things hoped for — the conviction of things not
seen. It is this, which, in its subjective results, at
least, yield the richest possible fruitage of the Chris-
tian's life — the ^^joy unspeakable and full of glory."
According to his biographers, faith was the secret of
a great power in the hands of Jesus, and he assured
his disciples that it would be th^ condition of a like
power in their hands.
We know that confidence in results is generally
necessary to success. Mutual undoubting confidence
34^ THE NEW RELIGION.
makes beautiful homes, good neighbors, good
society. It inspires friendship and love. But for
mutual trust and confidence — faith in our fellows — in
the powers that be around and above us, — we could
not live.
Supreme faith seems to make men next to omnipo-
tent.
'^Give a man faith and though his heart be narrow,
and his brain confined, and what he believes, an
absurdity, and a dream, he will pass by hundreds of
other men who occasionally doubt, and tramping
them in their gore, will control a fiery nation, and
reign in terror, till the name of Robespierre is a
trembling, and an abhorrence over the earth.'' ^^Give
a people faith, and though its tribes be scattered and
powerless over its desert domain, like the dismem-
bered limbs of a giant, it will gather itself together,
and stride forth along the quaking earth, till every
nation trembles at the name of Islam. "^
It is not, however, my purpose to explain, or to
attempt to explain, the relation of faith to powder,
though there can be no doubt, that human failures are
to be traced more frequently to lack of faith, than to
lack of possibility. If faith, working by misguided
passion in Alexander, could conquer the world as he
did, what shall it not achieve, when working by
love and directed by wisdom?
In the tropical language of the East, Jesus assured
I. Peter Bayne, in Christian Life, p. 44.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 349
his disciples, that, if they had ^^faith as a grain of
mustard seed, they should say to this mountain,
remove hence to yonder plain, and it shall remove
and nothing shall be impossible to you." Matt.
17: 20.
This of course is hyperbole, but its teaching can
hardly be misunderstood.
He himself did many wonderful things, which were
called ^ ^miracles," but he said in connection, ^^The
works that I do, shall ye do, and even greater works
than these, because I go to the Father."
My opportunities shall cease, while yours will
remain.
The subjective effects of faith are not less remark-
able and astounding than the objective. They are
seen in trance, in hallucination, in ecstacy, in clair-
voyance, in rapture, in the entheasm of the poet, and
the charisms of the seer, as well as in the exaltation
attained in the higher Christian experience.
That some of these affections depend upon physi-
ological conditions, can hardly be doubted, but the
psychological phenomena probably arise none the
less according to law. Fixed attention upon an object,
ideal or real, and faith in it — that is, implicit reliance
upon the occurrence of the expected, or desired result,
—a conviction that it must be so, is sometimes fol-
lowed by wonderful results, as the necromancers and
mesmerists have proven. But, however inexplicable,
we may not doubt that Imv reigns within the sphere of
350 THE NEW RELIGION.
the psychical^ as we know it reigns within the sphere of
the physical.
If we grant that the wonderful Son of Man under-
stood the laws of mind better than the philosophers,
and who now doubts this? we should not be sur-
prised that he should be able to achieve results that
seem altogether extraordinary and miraculous.
But what is of most import to us, frail mortals that
we are, is to know God the Father, and the Son whom
he hath sent, to realize the divine presence in our
experience to the extent of our capacity, — to enjoy all
possible intimacy and companionship with the Holy
Spirit which proceedeth from the Father.
When one comes to weigh the concerns of eternity
against the shifting panorama of the present state
of being, how precious and reassuring it is to know
and realize that he is at one with the Father and with
the Son, and that therefore whatever may happen, all
will and must be well. Do clouds gather and storms
rage — the Father Almighty reigns above them.
Do disappointment and suffering and uncontrolla-
ble grief let down their pall of darkness upon the heart,
in the starless night of seeming fate —
"Faith lends her realizing light,"
and the night lifts. Does death approach — the eyes
close upon the murky environment of things perish-
ing, to open upon the quenchless radiance of things
eternal, and all is well.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 351
"God's ways are always right
And love is o'er them all;
Though far above our sight,
Though grief benight our way,
'Twill make the joy more dear,
That comes with dawning day.
The path that Jesus trod,
Tho* rough and dark it be,
Leads him to heaven and God."
CHAPTER XXXIII.
The Ministry of Works.
John Stuart Mill understands Christianity to be the
maxims and precepts contained in the New Testament,
and Mr. Mill is fairly representative of an influential
class of distinguished skeptics. He says of Christian
morality, it is negative rather than positive, passive
rather than active, etc. In its precepts — ^^Thoushalt
not" predominates over ^^Thou shalt."
This may be said, no doubt, of Old Testament
morality, but certainly it cannot, with any truth, of
Christianity. The one summing up of Christian
ethics, given by the Master himself, will not justify
such a charge — Thou shalt^ reads the two command-
ments upon which Jesus said hang all the Law and
the Prophets. Confucius had said, ^*Do not unto
others what you desire others should not do unto
you," but Jesus says, ^ ^Whatsoever ye would that
others should do unto you do ye even so unto them"
— a teaching broader and more aggressive. Repent
of your sins, forgive them who trespass against, love
one another, do good to them who despitefuUy use you
and persecute you, love your enemies, etc. Where,
Mr. Mills, is your predominance of Thou shalt not —
where your passive, negative morality? ^^The doc-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 353
trines of the Founder of the Christian system," he
says, ^'contain but a part of the truth," and so small
a part that he thinks no system of ethics can be reared
upon it.^
Such a charge, coming from one who understands
Christianity to be but the ^ ^maxims and precepts con-
tained in the New Testament, "appears on its face as a
half confessed solecism. No one who has any just
conception of Christianity can think of it as consisting
of maxims and precepts. It is possible that in his
view of it, it would indeed ^'contain but a part of the
truth," and ^'fall," as he asserts, ^'far below the
ancients," because he saw so small a part of it.
It is most evident everywhere that Jesus depended
comparatively little upon maxims and precepts.
When Demosthenes was requested to define eloquence
he replied, ^^action" — ^^it is action." If you were to
interrogate the Founder of the Christian system what
constitutes morality, he would reply, action —
^' Works.'' ^^Art thou he that should come, or look we
for another?" — inquired John, through messengers
sent to Jesus. ^^Go tell John what? — the things ye
do hear and see; the blind receive their sight, the
lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the dead are
raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to
them." He did not send word back to John as he
might have done — I am he whom 3^ou yourself
announced as the ^^Lamb of God thattaketh away the
I. Liberty, p. 98.
354 THE NEW RELIGION.
sin of the world," and upon whom you saw the '^Spirit
of God descending as a dove and resting upon him."
Whatever significance this announcement and revela-
tion from heaven may have had, it was less as a
proof of his Messiahship than the works which he was
doing.
No great reformer ever depended so little upon
maxims and precepts, and so much upon example as
did Jesus. He appeals to his own example as fur-
nishing the most authoritative attestation possible of
his own divine mission. ^^The very works that I do
— they bear witness of me." If for nothing else,
believe me ''for the very works^ sake.'" So completely
did Mr. Mill misapprehend the whole drift and scope
of Christianity. And this misapprehension is yet the
mistake of half the Christian w^orld.
To subscribe a creed and join a church, and thus
take sides with Christian people, has passed too
current for practical Christianity among those who,
like Mr. Mill, have been able to see in it only the
maxims and precepts contained in the New
Testament.
''I am the Light of the world" — more than a
preceptor. I exhibit a new life. I manifest a new
spirit. I look to different purposes. I inspire better
hopes. While I am in the world I am the light of
the world. But I go to the Father. Following me
and becoming like me you become the light of the
world. Let your light shine, therefore, that others
peeing your good works may glorify the Father in
THE CHRIST MISSION. 355
Heaven. My mission ends. As the Father hath sent
me so send I you. Jno. 20: 21. It is yours now to
take up and prolong this work. Ye are the hght of
the world — the salt of the earth — you must take my
place. O Master, too imperfect, too frail are we.
You may not have my wisdom. You have not my
responsibility.
You have my love — an experience in kind like mine,
and the love that makes it my meat and drink to
do the Father's will, will make it yours to do the
same.
But remember, ^^I am the vine, ye are the branches.
The branch cannot bear fruit except it abide in the
vine. No more can ye except ye abide in me."
Jno. 15: 4. Your lives must be like mine — the same
in spirit, in feeling and purpose, the same in faith
and trust in God — differing indeed in sturdy strength
and robustness, as the trunk differs from the branches,
but of the same sap and fruitage. If any one will be
my disciple let him take up his cross as I have taken
up mine, and follow me — I have led the way.
Is it said that this is raising the standard too high
— that mere men are too gross and selfish — they will
never come up to it? He resisted not evil, submitted
to abuse, returned good for evil, loved all men, loved
even his enemies, and prayed for his malicious perse-
cutors and murderers — such virtues are too high —
who among men can hope to attain such heights?
And then what? Is there no redemption? Is
humanity doomed? Or have we, after all, indications
356 THE NEW RELIGION.
here and there that such virtues are possible to men?
Did not Moses so love his people that he was ready
to die for them? Did not Socrates, for the love of the
right, submit to abuse and to death? Did not Stephen
pray, ^*Lord, lay not this sin to their charge?*' Does
not the mother offer herself a sacrifice for her child?
And have there not been martyrs to the truth and the
right in all ages? Is the standard too high?
Resist not evil. Don't fight back and wrangle and
quarrel. It will not do any good. It will do harm.
It will put out your light.
If one shows greed and over-reaches you, prove to
him that you are above all such practice — that your
metal is of a different kind. To prove this may take
your cloak, or more than that; but prove it plainly to
him. He needs the reproof of such an example. It
will do him good, and you owe it to him; give him
your cloak also. He has struck you on one cheek,
turn the other. Your liberality will show forth
his selfishness in strong light and possibly reform
him. Love your enemies. There is more in them
than enmity to you — a great deal more, and much
that is good and worthy of your love. You must not
excuse or condone the wrong you see them do. Sin
is sin, crime is crime, and hateful in the sight of God
and good men. Your worst enemy may 3^et become an
angel, there is such a substratum of goodness in him.
But, if the demands of Christian morality yet seem
great, we know that there is possible to human nature
that which makes hard things easy. It would seem a
THE CHRIST MISSION. 357
hard thing to shut up a noble woman for thirty years
to the toil, and care, and anxiety of caring for a family
of children. What solicitude, and self-denial, and
sacrifice does it all imply! But a noble woman will
do it all, and chooses to do it. She does not realize
it to be a hard thing to do.
Christian morality requires only that the disciple
shall follow his Master.
In social and religious life Jesus differed from other
men more in some respects, and less in others, than
most people imagine. He mingled freely with
other men, went often among the poor, associated
with them on easy terms, as you and I could
do. He had about him no airs of special sanctity,
and we need not have. In appearance and manner
of life he was less an ascetic than the Baptist, less
even than some very moderate Christians of the
present day.
He was, it would seem, quite a man of the world,
and really somewhat destitute of traditional piety, as
some thought, in view of his conduct among publicans,
and on the Sabbath day.
He was not selfish in any bad sense, nor do we need
to be.
He was always ready to help and to give, when
there was need, and so should we be.
He saw the danger of wealth, and undue attachment
to this world, and avoided them, as we should.
He recognized the ' 'eternal verities" — truth, jus-
358 THE NEW RELIGION.
tice, goodness, and cherished them, just as we should.
Why not?
In spirit and affection he was simple, devoted,
transparent, child-like, as we might be and ought
to be.
He sought to make peace among men, explained
how they could do the same.
The standard is not too high.
Thanks to a more enlightened age, you will not be
called on to face the Sanhedrim nor the cross, nor the
stake, but you will need the Christ-integrity all the
same. The Christian code, and your own manhood,
for that matter, require it.
Let us banish, then, the suspicion, tacitly admitted
by half the Christian world, that Christian morality, so
beautiful in the outline of its teachings, is, after all,
impracticable. This suspicion hurts. It tends to
excuse and justify a low grade of morality — a grade
of morality little if any better, but certainly not worse,
as Mr. Mill would have it, than that of the ancients.
But if practicable, then incumbent. In espousing
the cause of the New Religion you undertake to rep-
resent and reproduce the life of the Lord Jesus Christ
— to aid in perpetuating the work he inaugurated and
extending it throughout the world — as the Father
hath sent me so send I you.
It is evident throughout that Jesus depended upon
a good example as the chief means of commending
and spreading the gospel. He constantly refers to
his own example as evidence of his own commission.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 359
It was his as the great exemplar, and he felt it to be
his, to set an example of fidelity under an ordeal of
trial and suffering that swept the whole field of
temptation, touching him at all points, and exhaust-
ing every motive to infidelity.
It was not enough that God should communicate
his will through angel messengers. It was necessary
that it should be revealed to sight and sense-appre-
hension— crystallized in the experience of actual life.
Words, though freighted with divine wisdom, are next
to powerless, when compared with the touching and
transforming influence of a radiant example.
None knew better than did Jesus the power of a
good example to work reform. No one ever relied so
implicitly upon personal influence and the power of a
good example to sustain his cause.
He literally committed it to the keeping of good
works — to the exhibition of the Christ-life. Others
had organized well, taught eloquently, written wisely,
but Jesus said, '^I am the light of the world," follow
me. To his disciples he did not say: organize, edu-
cate, enlist the wealthy, get the popular tide at all
cost, as reformers are wont to do, but be humble,
love each other, minister to the needy, visit the sick
and the imprisoned. Let your light shine. You will
be ignored, maligned, persecuted, possibly put to
death, only be true — let your light shine. The light
gleaming out of dark and obscure places of the earth
to which he knew his humble faithful disciples would
360 THE NEW RELIGION.
be driven was his hope for the world — his trusted
Evangel.
The power of example is not confined to the good
alone. ^^If the light that is in thee be darkness how
great is that darkness." A bad example will out-
weigh and neutralize a great deal of precept — mere
preaching. One bad example may curse a whole
neighborhood — a whole generation. Behold the fasci-
nating power of ^^fashion!" One follows another — fol-
lows into every extreme of folly and absurdity, often
at the expense of health and fortune.
During the witch-craft craze many who were per-
fectly innocent of the supposed diabolical intercourse,
were caught up by the excitement, confessed
implication and were put to death.
During the persecutions of the early church, when
even to profess one's self a Christian was the prelude
to the sentence of death, men and women daily
attested their devotion amid the horrors of faggot
and flame, and the carnage of wild beasts. Their
unflinching heroism so impressed the multitude, that,
many converts actually sought and voluntarily pro-
voked martyrdom, in so much that the authorities
had to interfere and check the mania. It is not sur-
prising that the Son of Man sought to avail himself
of this overmastering power of example, when
endeavoring to save the world from sin.
When the twelve and the seventy were sent forth
as evangelists they were not sent to indoctrinate men,
nor to proclaim the Lamb of God as ready to be
THE CHRIST MISSION. 361
offered in sacrifice to offended justice. ^^Go * to
the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and as ye go
preach, saying, the kingdom of heaven is at hand;
heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast
out devils — (whatever this may mean) — freely ye have
received, freely give." They were simply to go on
errands of love and mercy, following his example.
We are told that the intention gives moral quality
to the act, and in a sense and to some extent this is
true. A good action is not likely to spring from a
bad intent, nor a- bad action from a good intent. The
fact is, there are many intents good and bad which
spring no action at all. The intention belongs to and
affects the individual. It has in itself no ethical value.
It may be good or bad without public benefit or public
damage. Intentions do not constitute virtue, nor
merit its reward. Like good precepts and good
advice they are usually cheap if not a drug on the
market.
Men are so interdependent and identified with the
common weal, in all the relations of life, that what
belongs so exclusively to the individual as the intent
is of little weight or moment. The author of Chris-
tianity has taught us that virtue lies not in the inten-
tion, but in the act. The tree is to be judged not by
its latent capacity, but by its fruit. It is not for
every idle thought, but for ^^every idle word" that men
must give account. ^'By thy words shalt thou be
justified, and by thy words shalt thou be condemned."
The intention must crystallize into action and affect
362 THE NEW RELIGION.
some one for weal or woe, before it has ethical
value.
But you say out of the heart proceed evil thoughts,
etc. Yes, and it is because they proceed out of the
heart, and come to play their roll among men that
they come to be factors of ethical results. He that
looketh upon a woman lusting after her '^hath com-
mitted adultery with her already in his heart. '^ Yes,
truly. But he has not injured the woman. He has
not outraged public decency and set the tongues of
all the gossips going. He has not debauched public
sentiment nor lowered the standard of public virtue,
and cannot be called to account in any court, human
or divine, for doing any of these things. But the
cherished lust, however, has wrought its baneful effect
upon himself. It has debased his moral sense. It
has lowered his self respect. It has sunk him lower
in the scale of conscious purity. It has made him
more a brute and less a man. But the crime is his
own and has ethical significance only as it tends to
weaken and disqualify him for those helpful ministries
in which his fellowmen have something of vested
rights.
On the other hand a good deed, though it spring
from selfish motives, and may therefore prove to be
empty and worthless or even injurious to him who
performs it, yet has ethical value, since it helps some
one in the struggle of life and contributes to the sum
of human well being. It is love — a pure and holy
love — that consecrates both the intention and the ac »<
THE CHRIST MISSION. 363
and constitutes them a blessing. As a rule we are not
to judge the act by the intention, but the intention
by the act, because of its external relations and greater
ethical import.
It is the life revealed in action that constitutes the
individual a power among men. Jesus bore himself
with exemplary virtue and goodness always and
everywhere — through evil report and good, through
obstinate bigotry and superstition, through malice and
treachery, through wickedness in high places and in
low, in Gethsemane, in the courts of the High Priest
and of Pilate, in the hands of the mob and on the
cross, — in all, and through all, he bore himself with
such dauntless courage, with such sweetness of
temper, and yearning love for his misguided persecu-
tors, as to astonish and most powerfully to impress all
beholders, and to spring a reaction in his favor that
seems rather to increase than decrease in force with
the passing centuries.
And hence his measureless power for good, his
unrivalled success as a reformer, his authority as a
teacher come from God. He was more than a victim
offered in sacrifice, more than a substituted sufferer
for the sins of mankind. He was a revelation, an
inspiring exemplar, the Light of the World; and he
who will be his disciple is to take up his cross and in
all this follow him.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
The Ministry of Works — Supplemental.
One soul, with one God and destiny — the aura of
the New ReHgion.
The Founder of Christianity steadily addressed
himself to the individual. He summons the indi-
vidual soul into the presence of God for review and
judgment. He lays upon the individual the obliga-
tions of a holy life, and makes it his duty to let his
light shine. Even in matters of worship the indi-
vidual, and not the congregation, nor a substituted
priest, must be the actor. When he would pray he
is to enter into his closet, and having shut the door,
there alone he shall pray to the Father who is in
secret.
The College of Apostles was in no proper sense an
organized body — no constitution, no creed, no grip,
nor bond, nor baptism — nothing to interfere with the
autonomy of the individual. Jesus himself belonged
to no organization, nor did he recommend organiza-
tion to those who were to take up and carry for-
ward his work.
The sense of personal obligation, binding naen to
all helpful ministries, is the measure of the Christ-life.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 365
and the basis of the world's hope as set forth in the
New Rehgion.
For 200 years or more it was the practice of the
Christian preacher to go out among the people, and
to do substantially as Jesus himself, and the Apostles,
and Paul had done — to go about doing good as they
had opportunity, preaching repentance for the remis-
sion of sins, and the coming of the Kingdom of
Heaven. They defined no creeds, built no churches,
established no priesthood, claimed no ecclesiastical
authority as binding in law.
In time, however, when to become a Christian was to
encounter persecution, and the probability of a martyr's
death, it was most natural that the Christian should
desire the largest possible sympathy and moral sup-
port from his fellow Christians, and, if there were no
other reasons for it, this desire seemed to be a suffi-
cient reason for ecclesiastical union; and then, too,
if Christians had to withstand persecution, and go to
the stake for their faith, it seemed most proper that
their faith should be clearly defined, and definitely
stated, in order that there be no misapprehension — no
mistakes made in the dire emergencies which awaited
them.
Besides, Constantino had the penetration to see
that a concentration of the widespread Christian
forces — forces which everywhere were proving ade-
quate to conquer, would greatly strengthen hmi in his
possession of political power, and he therefore led
off in favor of ecclesiastical organization.
366 THE NEW RELIGION.
Hence, both a strongly organized church and an
elaborate creed as early as A. D. 325.
But after all, these needs, so keenly experienced by
Christians, were born of their fears, and it may well
be doubted whether both the organization and the
creed have helped more than they have hurt the pro-
gress of Christianity.
The Master had said, ^*When they bring you before
synagogues and the rulers and the authorities, be not
anxious how or what ye shall answer, for the Holy
Spirit will teach you in that very hour what ye ought
to say;^ thus providing in advance for the direst straits
without the intervention of external helps.
The reader need not be reminded that a merciless
and crushing despotism, enslaving and degrading a
large part of mankind, grew out of this organizing
and creed-making business; and its evil working is
plainly not yet ended. One of its evils, and the one
which claims our attention in this connection, is its
tendency to lessen the the sense of personal obliga-
tion to attend to the v^ants of men as they present
themselves to the individual Christian.
With a strong church in the field, or several in the
same field, as we have them now, to care for the
interests of religion, it is very easy for one to conclude
that if he but give liberally to support the church, he
is playing his part, without drawing upon his time
and business for the details of Christian duty; and,
I. Luke 12: II.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 367
accordingly, he buckles down to business, and rele-
gates the duty of letting his light shine, to the church.
A writer in a leading religious journal, just to hand,
says: ^*Helpless invalids must be cared for by their
friends, if they have them; if friendless, then by the
church or the community!"^ Here it is in plain Eng-
lish. The tendency is unmistakable. The Priest
and the Levite, who passed by on the other side, and
left the poor fellow who had fallen among thieves
unhelped, must have felt very much like this modern
priest. The man had no friends and they left him to
be cared for by the church, or the community.
Between the constantly recurring need of money
to keep up the church and pay the minister's salary —
to meet the claims of subordinate missionary societies,
mite societies, sewing circles, etc., id omne genus, and
added to these, the rivalry of congregational leader-
ship, the last dollar that can be squeezed out the
pious individual member is paid over to organized
agencies — paid over, possibly with the best of motives,
and applied, too,- possibly, to the furtherance of good
causes, and it is very natural that the ordinary Chris-
tian should come to believe and feel that he has, in
this way, done his duty. Accordingly, like the
brother mentioned, he relegates the cases of personal
need which come within his knowledge to the
^^church" and the ^^community. " But is this Chris-
tian altruism?
I. Prof. H. F. Fisk, D. D., in N. W. C, Ad., May 14, '90,
368 THE NEW RELIGION.
I know we are told the times have greatly changed
since Jesus wrought his helpful ministries in Galilee.
The twenticith century, with its institutions and its
civilization, is upon us. Things are done now on a large
scale. I grant. Everything is organized, from a mighty
church seeking to set up her throne of power in all
lands, to a prayer meeting or a child's play. The
individual is absorbed. The big fish have the wave.
Of course the stronger the church the better. The
stronger and richer, the more talent it can command,
the more imposing cathedrals and temples it can
build, and the sooner it will ^^fill the earth with the
knowledge of the Lord."
But candidly, is the method of this century, with its
display of large means — its roar and thunder and
tramping of feet — its glitter and glare of gold — an
improvement upon that of the first and second cen-
turies, with their small beginning, their comparative
destitution of means — their humility and the little
'^leaven" that was to ^ ^leaven the whole lump?"
What is the proof of it? The Roman empire was
conquered to Christianity during the first 200 years.
What Roman empire has been conquered to Chris-
tianity within the last 200 years? What has been the
annual increase per centum of the population of genu-
ine, not noniinal Christians of the last 200 years, with
all the advantage of multiplied centers of operation,
better knowledge and exhaustless resources, as com-
pared with the increased per centum of population
during the first 200 years? Before great cathedrals
THE CHRIST MISSION. 369
were built, or elaborate creeds were made up by
ecclesiastical councils, and before organization had
become a ^^craze," the New Religion had encountered
ignorance and vice — wickedness in ^^high places" —
all the forms of selfishness and depravity — it had
encountered Paganism, with its learning and philoso-
phy, and won glorious victories. Now, enshrined in
strong and wealthy organizations, and with modern
methods, is it doing more or better?
A single church in New York is said to be worth
$150,000,000.^ Another in the same city $100,000,-
000.2 'pj^g Presbyterians have $300,000,000 in Chi-
cago,2 and all the leading denominations count their
wealth by millions. Are they likely to do more for the
spread of genuine Christianity than did a proportional
number of the early Christians following the methods
of the Apostles and Paul and the preachers of the first
century, before there were either creeds or cathedrals
or an ecclesiastical priesthood? Or is it another case
of Goliath in his armor and David with his sling?
In union there is strength. Certainly there is. If
you want to pull up sycamine trees and remove
mountains into the sea, the more spikes and shovels
and levers you employ the sooner you will accomplish
your purpose. But in the case before us it may be a
question whether you can use spikes and shovels.
1. See Fo7'tcni, Nov., '8g.
2. Retiring Moderator's address before Presbyterian Asserr.-
bly, 1890.
370 THE NEW RELIGION.
There are things which cannot be put into an
organization. You can only put into an organization
what has a value in common, or is supposed, at least,
to have such value. But your religion is worth more
to you than it is to your neighbor, and his religion is
worth more to him than it is to you; and so of all the
rest. Each one's religion belongs to himself and
ought to be sacred against all comers. In the nature
of things it cannot be built into an organization. The
effort to do this has been a disastrous failure in all
time. It has rent the Christian world into many
fragments, and caused an immense and cruel waste
of means and engendered an amount of sectarian
strife and bitterness that is sickening to contemplate.
If you think best you can build round an ^'ism,'*
and you may persuade a good man}^ to help you.
But in the public mind "isnis^^ are at discount.
Catholicism, Methodism, Presbyterianism, Bap-
tistism, and the rest — each and all are something less
than Christianity. They have ear-marks that disfig-
ure them, ^^shibboleths" that betray narrowness, if
nothing worse. They beget suspicion of selfishness
and offend public taste. They are not the best thing
to build around and build up.
Besides they are dying out. They will not live for-
ever. Some have already died, and more are dying,
and I do not believe that to invest in them largely is
to make the best use of the ^^Lord's money."
The twentieth century civilization is not favorable
to the spread of genuine Christianity. It depends too
THE CHRIST MISSION. 37I
much Upon organization and hurrah — upon marble
and gold — and too little upon personal piety and good-
ness— the leaven that is to leaven the whole lump.
Sixty years ago Dr. Channing said, organized
societies at present tend strongly to excess, and espe-
cially menace that individuality of character for
which they can yield no adequate compensation. It
is notoriously evident, at least to those who have not
been caught up by the craze for organization, that the
fears here expressed were well founded. Everywhere
there are ^ ^leaders, " a few, followers, many — leaders,
sometimes selfish, ambitious, unscrupulous, and gen-
erally overrated — followers, wanting in individuality
and true manhood, and ready on occasion to cry,
^Crucify him! Crucify him!"
The glorified civilization of the present imposes
conditions unfavorable to the spread of Christianity.
It makes a god of wealth. It fosters a disposition to
indulge in short-lived and debasing pleasures. It
influences men to lay up their treasures upon the
earth. It dwarfs the individual and his light-shining
capacity. The times have indeed changed since
Jesus sent his reply back to John in prison. Reversing
the order, the rich^ more than tlie poor have the gospel
preached to them. Silk and diamonds lend their
attractions to pulpit and pew, without increasing their
power for good. Wealth is decoloring and detoning
Christly goodness in highly cultivated circles, and
many of the modern apostles of Christianity, without
any great amount of the scruple and tender conscience,
372 THE NE\V RELIGION.
such as was Paul's, are resting serenely in the lap of
wealthy and fashionable congregations.
Organization is in the air of the present. It is seen
in trusts and syndicates — in everything and every-
where. The individual is seldom seen in his own
capacity.
It may well be doubted whether a genuine Christian
socialism is now possible without a thorough recon-
struction of the church and Christian institutions.
The individual has well nigh disappeared from human
society. If you find him struggling for recognition,
you find him in an unequal contest, pitted against
some one or more great combinations, social, political,
or ecclesiastical, that are ready to club him down as a
^^crank,'^ and hoot him out of society. It is worth
about all that a man holds dear in society, to be a true
man, and dare to do his own thinking. The tendency
of this organizing age is to debase the masses by
stripping the individual — the unit of the masses — of
his sense of personal capacity and responsibility. In
social life, fashion, in politics, party, and in religion,
the churches, have usurped the functions of the indi-
vidual and sway the scepter of a debasing tyranny
over the masses. Mr. S. W. Dike, in the January,
1890, Century, has noticed this tendency among Chris-
tians to rely too much on the church. He says:
^^It is time we ceased to make people feel that there
is no salvation except by way of the church door, in
simple justice to him who said T am the door.' * *
No form of ecclesiasticism, not even that of the most
THE CHRIST MISSION. 373
orthodox protestantism, any more than that of Rome,
can shut him within church walls, or look to the con-
gregation as the place for the greater part of his
work.''
A Nashville editor said: — ^^It is a malign paradox
of ecclesiastical history that as power declines ma-
chinery increases." A New York editor, commenting
on this sentiment, says: — ^^The machinery now
deemed necessary to carry forward the work which
was originally committed by Christ and his apostles to
the loyalty and devotion and philanthropy of indi-
vidual Christians, is something appalling."
And another responds: — ^^Machinery has little func-
tion in Christ's ministry. * * Christ's ministry and
method were at least typical and illustrative of the
economy and secret of greatest success in bringing
the world to accept him as Savior and Master."
There are in the United States about 90,000
preachers of the gospel. If they all had the love and
zeal that sent Paul out through the gentile world, and
the self-sacrificing conscience that made him work
with his own hands, lest he might become ' 'burden-
some," how soon would the light of the blessed gospel
flood all this land!
Th'e census report of 1880 gives the population of
the United States as 50,000,000, and the number of
Christians of all denominations as 16,000,000 — one
to less than every four of the population. Suppose
every one was a good Samaritan kind of Christian,
with his oil and wine and his two pence at the inn,
374 THE NEW RELIGION.
and his promise of more, what would be the result
before the next moon?
Another cause, it is believed, operates to lessen the
sense of personal obligation to active beneficence.
There is a religious cultus which makes the not-me
about everything in religion and the me nothing, or next
to nothing. The sinner is taught that he is a poor,
totally depraved and helpless mortal whom nothing
can save but God himself, by a fiat of his redeeming
power.
This, because of his great love, the Heavenly
Father is disposed to do. The sinner must be
'^redeemed," ^'washed," ^'purified," made holy by
the divine will and power. He must, indeed, become
willing to be saved, but here responsibility seems to
end. He must be saved by grace through faith, and
the grace is the grace of the divine Not-Me.
Henceforth, what concerns him most is, how^ to keep
his religion, and in the end make sure of heaven. ^^I
want to be good," said a brother in so many words,
the other day, in a class-meeting, ^ ^because I want to
be happy.'' This is the feeling. Under this cultus,
if you attend to what are called ^^the means of grace"
— prayer meeting, public worship, etc., you will be
most likely to maintain your Christian integrity, and
secure the '^crown of rejoicing" and ^'harp of gold."
No altruism, — none of the candle burning itself out
to give light to other people. It is the Old Religion
against the New, and borders upon selfishness.
It did not seem to have occurred to the brother
THE CHRIST MISSION. 375
that, born into the kingdom, he must go out of him-
self, and, at the cost of himself, he must do some-
thing to help somebody in need, that he must become
a supplement a7y Christy commissioned to help save
the world from sin.
Under this cultus the redeemed sinner owes every-
thing to God, and what more or better can he do than
to serve God, that is, to say his prayers regularly, to
attend upon public worship faithfully, to support the
church, reverence the minister whom God has sent
him, read his bible, etc.
But all this is done around one center, and that
center is himself — his own happiness.
Such a cultus tends to dwarf the sense of personal
obligation to render service to the outside world,
lying in poverty and squalor and wretchedness, by
exalting those objective agencies and instrumentali-
ties upon which the ^^believer*' is made to feel his
own salvation largely depends.
Religion is the chief concern. Morality is good
among men, but some very profane and wicked men
are good moralists and upright enough. But moral-
ity is human, religion is divine. Religion is prayer.
Religion is worship, and getting close to God, and
having rapturous communion and fellowship with the
Most High.
I could forever stay
In such a frame as this.
And sit and sing myself away
To everlasting bliss.
376 THE NEW RELIGION.
In this habitual ecstacy what to him are the hunger
and thirst and nakedness of the outside world? What
are helpless poverty and sickness and want? His
back is to the world, his face toward heaven, God
is all in all, and glory his destiny.
The teaching is at fault. It leaves out works.
It leaves out light-shining. It permits the votary
to forget that, ^^As the Father hath sent me so send I
you. ' *
In that dramatic representation of the last judgment
given by Matt, the results of life are summed up and
the value of those helpful ministries which are made
so abundantly possible in this present unequal life of
mankind are most powerfully set forth:
^^When the Son of Man shall come in his glory, and
all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon
the throne of his glory: and before him shall be
gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one
from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from
the goats. And he shall set the sheep on his right
hand, and the goats upon the left. Then shall the
King say to them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed
of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you
from the foundation of the world. For I was an
hungered, and ye gave meat; I was thirsty, and ye
gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in;
naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited
me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me. ' ' Astound-
ing! They themselves had not known the moral value
of their benevolence and their benefactions. 'When
THE CHRIST MISSION. 377
saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty,
and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger,
and took thee in? Or naked, and clothed thee? Or
when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto
thee? And then the King shall answer and say unto
them, '^Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto one of the least of these my brethren,
ye have done it unto me.
^^Then shall he also say unto them on his left hand,
Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, pre-
pared for the devil and his angels: for I was an hun-
gered, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye
gave me no drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me
not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick and in
prison, and ye visited me not/'
Possible! They had not waked up to the damning
character of that close-fisted selfishness which could
go stalking amid want and squalor and suffering
unaffected.
''When saw we thee an hungered, or athirst, or a
stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not
minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them say-
ing. Verily I say unto you. Inasmuch as ye did it
not to one of the least of these, ye did it not unto
me. And these shall go away into everlasting pun-
ishment; but the righteous into life eternal. Matt.
25: 31-46.
CHAPTER XXXV.
The Ministry of Works — Supplemental.
The following conversation between two New
Yorkers, one a popular minister of the gospel, and
the other a Christian business man, will explain itself:
A. Good morning, Mr. B., I believe I saw you in
the congregation at my church yesterday.
B. Yes, sir; I was there.
A. Do you reside in the city?
B. I do.
A. You don't get round to my church often. I
think I have not noticed you before.
B. No sir, I don't attend church services very
regularly; I go when I have time and feel that I need
such service. 1 work hard through the week, and I
generally feel by the end of the week that I need a
little rest, and then, too, the Sabbath furnishes me
the most leisure I can command for reading, which I
very much enjoy.
A. I think you would find that it would help you
to maintain your religious life — your spirituality and
^'growth in grace," if you would attend the church
services regularly; and, as to rest, you could get that
quite as well, or better, at the church.
B. People evidently make very different estimates
THE CHRIST MISSION. 379
of the value of ^'church services.'* Church-going
people seem to hold them sacred and almost indis-
pensable to a good life. But I do not care to d'.scuss
the measure of their utility now — I want time to read,
and, besides, having some notoriety among the poor,
I often have occasion to attend some one's need on
the Sabbath.
A. The teaching at the church might be valuable
— possibly as valuable as that of your book; and,
would not the ministries of the church during public
worship qualify you all the better for your ministries
to the poor. You cannot do much for the poor except
to supply their present need, and this at best would
be to them a service of somewhat doubtful value — it
might in the end do them more harm than good.
B. I beg your pardon — the poor generally need
sympathy. The world turns its back upon them and
they are likely to come to feel that they are aban-
doned of men and forgotten of God. One's friendly
presence, even for a few moments, as occasion may
offer, gives them cheer and comfort, and will do them
much good, and especially so if one has something in
his hand for the needy mother and children.
A. But according to my experience it is difficult
to reach them for any permanent good. For the
most part, they live on a very low plane, and are so
gross and unappreciative you can hardly start a
thought of the higher life. What do most of them
care for their souls? Many of them hardly know they
380 THE NEW RELIGION.
havs souls. Alas! there is no great encouragement
to try to help them.
B. And yet, however low and gross, their desti-
tution, as I often see it, affects me keenly. I cannot
forget that they are of one blood with myself, and
made ^^in the image of God," and if I cannot minister
to their higher nature, as you seek to do, I can, at least,
do something in the way of supplying; their physical
needs, and this sometimes seems to me to be much.
A. Oh, I grant that using prudence and circum-
spection, we must not let the poor suffer. But the
poor we shall always have with us. Mere physical
need is, when we come to think of it, a low grade of
need. The body soon dies; the soul is immortal.
You help the body, and, in the nature of things,, soon
all is gone; you help the soul and your work will
remain. You yourself need the services of the sanc-
tuary to nourish your moral and religious nature, and
prepare you for the life immortal. We owe more to
God than we do to our poor neighbors, and it reverses
things to serve them more and him less. There is a
vaporing sympathy which would exhaust measurele^j
resources upon short-lived charities, and render more
durably useful benefactions impossible — a sympathy
which hurts more than it helps the world.
B. You state the case strongly, and I know that
you express a feeling widespread, even in Christian
circles. Prudence in giving must be counted among
the virtues, since we know that there are those who
are base enough to take advantage of our liberality
THE CHRIST MISSION. 381
and abuse it. But on the other hand you will allow
that there is danger of this special plea of prudence
playing into the hands of a blighting selfishness. It
is to be noticed that Jesus, having no money, went
down among the poor in boon companionship, eating
and drinking with them — even with * ^publicans and
sinners." He did not seem to be quite willing that
they should be left to the degradation to which they
had been reduced by sin and a hard fortune. The fact
that only one of the ten lepers he had healed returned
to give glory to God did not put a stop to the leper-
healing business. He discouraged any too severe
discrimination among thu needy, by calling attention
to the fact that God sends his rain and sunshine upon
the just and the unjust. If ten righteous could be
found in the cities of the plain, they were not to be
destroyed. It were an inexcusably wicked distrust
that would let the deserving poor suffer because the
well-meant charity might be occasionally abused.
A. But financial sympathy is more liable to abuse
than spiritual sympathy. You give your money, and
it may be spent upon appetite — upon intoxicants —
upon inordinate passion, and so do more harm than
good. You give moral instruction, use you influence
to make the life better, and if you have done no good,
you have, at least, done no harm.
B. Plausible, certainly; and, since we owe most
to God, you think that as a first consideration we
should serve God, and that, if we do this, the service
of men will not be neglected. But please, hoiv will
382 THE NEW RELIGION.
you serve God without serving men? Will your prayers
and sanctuary services please God and render him
more propitious? Will they gratify him — do him
good? We have authority for believing that many
who are well up in religion — many who say ^^Lord,
Lord/* ^ 'shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven/'
It is granted that, if your worship be sincere and
true, it will do you good, and that it should not be neg-
lected. But how else or who else can it benefit?
Herein is my Father glorified that ye bear much fruit.
Verily I say unto you — please note the emphasis —
' 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of
these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Here
we have a ''service" which is recognized as the "serv-
ice of God."
A. As to doing God himself good — serving him in
that sense no mortal, of course, can serve him. But
there are other ways of serving men than by feeding
and clothing them. They really need to be saved
from their sins — converted — more than they need to
be fed and clothed. Their highest possible interests
are at stake, and he that succeeds in getting a soul
converted "shall save a soul from death and cover a
multitude of sins." As a minister of the gospel this
is my peculiar work and responsibility.
B. A most noble work — indeed a "high calling."
My mission is more humble. But, if you give what
is needed, and what is felt to be needed — mark what
I say — you will touch deep into the heart. Nine
times out of ten you will stir the better nature, and
THE CHRIST MISSION. 383
there will be no abuse of your generosity. About a
week ago I heard of a neighboring destitute family
and I called in to see them. A sad scene presented
Itself. They told me you had been there. Do you
remember them — on Water St., No. ?
A. Oh yes— several of them sick, and very poor.
I don't wonder at their being sick, living in such a
place — should think they would all die of filth and
malaria.
B. Did you talk with them?
A. Yes, quite at length. I tried to tell them of
Jesus and God and heaven — a better world. The
children who were able stood round staring at me.
The mother seemed feeble and stupid; the father
coarse, stupidly inattentive, and evidently shiftless.
I felt sorry for them. I prayed with them and for
them, and gave them a bible. What more could I
do? What a pity that people will not hear the truth
and learn to do better before such grossness and hard-
ness overtake them. It is hard to reach people so
low in the scale of being.
B. I must say, I was deeply affected, especially
when I remembered that, without doubt, there are
thousands and thousands of such and similar cases of
destitution in this one great city. I inquired a little into
the history of this family. The husband had been a
shoemaker, and this was his brief story: — ^T had no
great difficulty in my early married life in providing
for my family; but after they began to make shoes by
machinery the price of work went down till I was
384 THE NEW RELIGION.
compelled to quit the business. I had to catch jobs
and do what I could. And then I took sick and lost
a good deal of time, and so got behind, and have never
been able to catch up. And, to make matters worse,
my wife took sick and has never recovered her health,
and now the doctors say she has the consumption, and
here we are — God only knows what is to become
of us."
I said to him, ^^My dear sir, we will get you out of
this. God has been good to me, and I have some
means, and we will get you out of this.'' I found a
girl and employed her to go to work for them and
clean up. I provided a new and comfortable bed
upon which the poor woman could rest. I ordered
up what was needed from the store and the grocery.
I furnished shoes and clothes for the children, and I
said to them, ^'Now take courage. I will not forget
you and God will not forget you, nor cease to love
you. Here is ten dollars, if you should need anything
before I get back to see you. I will call again next
Sabbath." On leaving them there was a scene. Big
tears were rolling down the father's radiant face. He
was too much affected to speak. The mother, stretch-
ing out her trembling, bony hand sobbed out — ^^O
how we thank you! God bless and reward you, if we
never can." And the children were happier than they
could tell. Hard to reach people on so Iowa
pla7ie of being! You seemed to think they had scarcely
anything of the better nature left within them, so
stupid and morally insensate were they. But I did
THE CHRIST MISSION. 385
not find them so. I doubt whether an angel in heaven
could have struck a sweeter note of praise and grati-
tude, or poured a grander symphony into the ears of
the All Father than did that family on Water St. —
And, of course, I will stand by them. I will see
them out. They are of my own blood — my neighbors
— and as a Christian I cannot do less.
Your higher ministries did not reach them. My
humble ministries did reach them. You gave them
what you thought they most needed, I gave them what
they felt they most needed. Through the felt needs
you can walk straight into the better nature. You can-
not begin at the top and build downward. You can-
not climb up to heaven without a ladder. Jacob's
angels could not. It is not a matter of impossibility.
It is a question of how. Your means are not well
adapted to accomplish your ends. You seek to carry
forward the work inaugurated by the Lord Jesus, but
the tv/entieth century is upon us and you have found
a different way of doing things. He went among the
poor and destitute with more than a bible in his
hand and prayers with them and for them. He went
with a spirit of sympathy and fellow feeling that
opened his heart and his hand. You did not. You
went with your sermon and exhortation. You went
with kind words and good advice, all of which is
always theap in the market, because it is of little
value, and you failed. *^If a brother or a sister be
naked and in lack of daily food, and one of you say
UUto thcjm; Go in peace, be ye warmed and filled;
386 THE NEW RELIGION.
and yet ye give them not the things needful to
the body, what doth it profit?^ Your rich congrega-
tion arranges expensive appointments, and you pre-
pare elaborate and elegant sermons, but I am quite
sure that no one of your public services in a year past
has produced a more profound impression than the
humble benefactions bestowed on this poor family.
For conserving public virtue and personal piety and
good conduct your church services may be the best
possible. This is not my point, but, as an evangel, as a
means of reachin g and saving the lost and the d3ang in this
great and wicked city, your method is a comparative
failure. Those who need most that gospel which is
the ^/power of God unto salvation" never get into
your fine church, and if, as you did in this case, you
attempt to carry it to them, it is presented in such a
way as to make it seem to them worthless.
A. But mercy on us, man! Such reckless and
indiscriminate charity would soon bankrupt a million-
aire. I remember now having heard of an eccentric
enthusiast on the subject of charity. I think I must
have found him.
B. But how is it? — beijig a Christian, how could I
have done otherwise with this family, with whom now
we have had something of a common experience?
They are my neighbors — under the aegis of the second
commandment. If I love them as I love myself
could I fail to help them? You have, I understand,
I, James z\ 15,
THE CHRIST MISSION. 387
an elegant family — a wife and five children — and of
course you love them. Could you leave them down
on Water street with a tithe of the needs of this
family, and go on with your own abundance and com-
fort and Christian duties, as you do now? We know
full well that you would sink yourself to their lowest
level, if it were necessary, to rescue them from such
a condition of poverty and want.
Are you, to be frank about it, quite sure that you
really love '^your neighbor as yourself," and are,
therefore, entitled to be called a Christian? Are we
to understand that what 370U did for that poor family
is the measure of your love for them? You give
proof that you love your wife and children. You
■ divide with them and would share fortune with them,
whatever might happen. Where is the proof that
you love these neighbors of yours down on Water
street as you love yourself? Love levels things.
It holds all your children on the same level before
you. You could not bribe a mother to conscious
partiality with millions. It brought the early Chris-
tians to a level, insomuch, that for awhile they had
'^all things common. '^ In the mind of Jesus it
brought Jew and Gentile, Pharisee and Publican to
the same level. Paul felt he owed the same debt to
Greek and Roman, to Barbarian and Scythian, to
bond and free. Love levels things and makes com-
mon cause, and if your love don't level you down to
something like equality in matters essential to happi-
nessp there must be something wrong. Love hardly
388 THE NEW RELIGION.
stops with equality. The big boy always gives the
better half to his little sister, and the little sister,
in return, reciprocates her brother's generosity. And
this overplus of giving is the dictate of true love the
world over. But you seem to be able to stop at an
infinite distance short of equality. I repeat, are we
to understand that what you did for the poor family
on Water street is the measure of your brotherly love?
Is the love that sits blissfully in the lap of wealth —
dresses in silks, wears diamonds and fares sump-
tuously every day in the midst of ghastly want — is
this kind of love, in your estimate of things. Christian
love?
There are certain things which we all must have or
suffer, and to which, under the Christian regime, all
have an equal right, among which our fathers named
'^life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.'' We
may add, all must have food and raiment, and some-
thing of physical comfort, of fellowship and of good
cheer. Having these, all may be happy. Without
them, none can be happy. True love will not — can-
not stop short of making common cause in the essen-
tials of human happiness. It will not permit suf-
fering, if it be possible to prevent it, cost what it
may. But love, less embarrassed than state legisla-
tion for the poor, is not, as you say, indiscriminate in
the use of means.
It would be a great mistake to divide out your
property with those who have but a fraction of your
prudence and wisdom in conserving and controlling
THE CHRIST MISSION. 389
it. If you use judgment you will not '^cast your
pearls before swine," nor be at a loss to find genuine
cases of dire want in which your help is sorely needed.
Our visit to Water street must have convinced us of
this.
That Water street family has as much right to be
fed and clothed and made comfortable as I have;
and if I have the virtue of the second commandment,
and the means, I will not stop short of feeding and
clothing them till they are as comfortable. This, of
course, does not mean that I shall proceed to divide
up all I may have left. We must be prudent, I grant
— be careful to make good investments, but a genuine
Christian socialism demands that these helpful bene-
factions shall be continued until, in matters essential,
all, the rich and the poor, are brought to a common
level.
A. But my good fellow, what can you hope? How
much would it take to put good shoes and clothes on
all the ragged poor of this one city? How much to
put them into comfortable houses? How much to
supply their tables as yours is supplied? What folly
to think of doing any such thing!
And then, too, how soon would all this expenditure
of means disappear! You would scarcely be buried
out of sight till the old want and squalor would come
again, and repossess all the fields you had won to
comfort. If the second commandment implies any
such thing in practice, we must, with all the infidels,
write it down impracticable.
390 THE NEW RELIGION.
B. Does the mere magnitude of the work paralyze
you? Would you raise this question against your
family whom you love? Would you not do what you
could till you exhaust your means? Why then raise
it against God's poor, whom you also love, if you are
a Christian?
A. But who are one's neighbors? There is fallacy
somewhere. Perhaps it is in the misunderstanding
of terms.
B. In the case given by the Master the man who
fell among thieves was neighbor to the good Samari-
tan— a fellow-being that had come to his notice in a
state of helpless suffering and need. Our neighbors
are those whom we see and know, or whom, at
least, we can see and know — those who, in the busi-
ness of life, come within the range of our knowledge
— these in preference to those beyond the range of
our observation and knowledge.
You are not to love those over the mountains and
across the seas whom you have never seen or know^n,
and never can, as you love yourself. This were, per-
haps, impossible to human nature. It is your neigh-
bor whom you know, or can know and see, that you
are to love as yourself, and treat accordingly. Love
demands nothing impossible. Attempting too much
you would accomplish nothing. You know how
leaven works — the leaven that is ^^to leaven the whole
lump." It works from a living germ within, out
and out, till it reaches the circumference. It skips
no spaces — leaps no gulfs.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 39I
Your love would not, I hope, shut its eyes against
the want that stares you in the face, to open them
beyond the ocean.
And then, too, helping your neighbor thus, you will
soon be able to know whether your benefactions are
helping or hurting — whether you are making a mis-
take and helping the deviPs poor instead of God's
poor.
But, in any case, large sums would indeed be
needed. There are many poor. ^ About one-fourth of
the world's population are paupers. And the condi-
tion of some of them is distressing enough to touch
the hardest heart. The following case is just this
moment reported. A sewing woman in an Eastern
state writes to a sister in the West:^ 'T am dying of
destitution. My children are starving, husband dead,
ceaseless toil takes all my strength, and that for a
mere sustenance of life. It has blighted every hope
of the future. O^ sister! is God dead? Has humanity
left the earth? This life is too long for the misery
that is in it. Why am I kept alive with my joy
blotted out? Why the sinless ones doomed to this
lingering death? But for them I would kill myself.
* "^ Sixteen hours a day to get sufficient to keep
1. In 1880 there were largely more than a million of children
in the U. S. under the age of fifteen — their ages ranging from five
to fifteen — working to support themselves and families, instead
of being in school. And what does such a fact signify?— See
Arena for April, 'go.
2. Statesman for June, '90.
392 THE New religion.
this miserable life. I die of want. ' ' And God only
knows how many of such and similar cases in this
great Christian city.
But if all cannot be helped many can be, and this
fact the Christian must recognize. If we suppose
that 5 per cent, of the families in this city consist of
widows and orphans, and are in actual need of help,
and this cannot be very far from the fact, there is one
man in this same city, who could build a home worth
^i,ooo for every one of these families, and settle upon
it an annual income of ^450 a year, and yet have
enough left to make himself and his family amply
comfortable for the rest of life. Four hundred and
fifty dollars a year would be all that the husband,
were he living, and working as a common laborer,
could earn during the year. One man then in this
city could thus practically, as far as support is con-
cerned, restore the husband to every such family,
and put it into a comfortable home. Besides, this
grand patrimony could run on and on, and bless suc-
cessive generations.
Six men in this country could be named who could
endow every needy family in the United States with a
little home worth $1000, and place to its credit ^1000,
to be put at interest or drawn upon for imperative
needs.
One church in New York is worth ^150,000,000.^
I. See Fortwi, November, i88q.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 393
The Presbyterians in Chicago hold ^300,000,000
worth of property.^
There is property enough held by church communi-
cants to banish cold and hunger and thirst and naked-
ness from every family on earth, enough to put every
sick sufferer upon a clean and comfortable bed in a
comfortable home. Enough to take all children, too
young to work, out of factories, and put them in
schools, dressed in good clothes and with good shoes
on their feet.
So you perceive that there are ample means for
helping the needy and enough left for building all
needed and more permanent benevolences besides,
if men would but consent to disburse it.
There is destitution because the wealth of the world
is not distributed. There is no scarcity, none what-
ever, but the scarcity of love — the virtue of the second
commandment. And the selfishness and avarice which
hoards millions will infallibly curse its possessors.
This is the judgment of history. It is marvelous that
men do not see it. There is no surer way to damn a
family than to damn it with wealth.
A. But no one has a right to live alone for one's
neighbors — not even for one's country nor one's age,
for that matter. The ages to come have a claim upon
the present age and it is the duty of the present to
bequeath something to the future. We must have
institutions that will live after us. You could invest
your means with hope of more permanent results.
I. Moderator's address before Pres. Gen. Assembly, 1890.
394 THE NEW RELIGION.
B. Yes, I could build a college or a church; but
there would be no gilt-edged security that it would
not after awhile be abandoned and pulled down, as
they are at this moment pulling down the Chicago
University — an institution built a few years ago by
your prudent, far-seeing charity. 1 happen to know,
myself, that not a few churches built by the sweat and
blood of well meaning charity have been quite aban-
doned. There are better things than colleges and
churches in the form of piles of brick and mortar.
Granite and marble are not the best contributions one
age can make to another. There are ^ ^monuments
more durable than brass." Bring in the reign of
peace on earth and good will to men; bequeath the
Christ-spirit and the Christ-life to all lands, and
establish a genuine Christian socialism in the earth
and the future will take care of itself. The human
soul and goodness and God — -these survive.
Besides, Would you allow your children to suffer
to provide for the comfort and well-being of your
grandchildren? Are you so much interested in the
unborn that you cannot help those poor sufferers on
Water street? If you love not your brother whom
you have seen, how can you so love the brother
whom you have not seen and never can see?
There is enough within your reach — enough of sin
and suffering to exhaust all your means, enough of
crime and degradation to fill your hands and heart.
If you are a Christian, 3^ou have been commissioned to
help save men, following in foot-steps of the Master.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 395
The pass-port into the higher nature is through the
lower nature, and the humble ministers of love as
they appear in sympathy and companionship — in the
divided loaf and cup of cold water, will climb into the
higher nature more quickly and awake its best powers
more certainly, than all the ex-cathedra deliverances
of pope and priest-hood.
Jesus evidently thought so, since he did not seek to
ground his cause in chartered institutions or enshrine
it in marble. He, as no other reformer ever did,
had faith and hope in the power of a good example
as the light of the world — as the power that should
win men and cause them to glorify the Father in
heaven.
At any rate, of one thing I am certain. While I know
I have been spending my means, as you think indis-
creetly— frittering them away upon short-lived chari-
ties, yet I have not, in my way, served God for nought.
I have seen not a few lifted out of squalor and dire
need. I have seen them made glad and grateful. I
have seen them taking on new strength, and starting
forward again on life's journey with renewed reso-
lution and hope. In placing one unfortunate father
upon his feet, you sometimes save a whole family
to virtue. In waking a poor mother's love and grati-
tude you kindle the fires of love in a whole family of
sympathetic children, and possibly the magic touches
of your unselfish love will unlock forces that will avail
to redeem a whole community, and bring in a dis-
pensation of peace and good will that will widen with
396 THE NEW RELIGION.
the coming years and bring multitudes of prodigals
back to the Father's house. I have helped a few. I
have heard them thank God for human sympathy and
human help. Instinctively they were borne upward.
Irresistibly they were swept into the holy of holies,
and I have proved, O, how often, thank God, that it is
indeed '^more blessed to give than to receive.'* I
have been feeding on the manna of heaven. I have
been drinking the nectar of the gods.
I have no large fortune left; but my heart and my
hand are still open, and the blessed light that sheds
its radiance upon my daily life is already throwing its
beams across the borders, and I am content.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
The Ministry of Love.
A newsboy took the Sixth Avenue elevated car at
Park Place at noon on Thanksgiving day, and, slid-
ing into one of the cross seats, fell asleep. At Grand
street two young women got on and took seats oppo-
site the lad. His feet were bare, and his hat had
fallen off. Presently the young girl leaned over
and placed her muff under the little fellow's head.
An old gentleman in the next seat smiled at the act,
and without saying anything held out a quarter with
a nod toward the boy. The girl hesitated for a
moment and then reached for it. The next man just
as silently offered a dime, a woman across the aisle
held out some pennies, and before she knew it the
girl, with flaming cheeks, had collected money from
every passenger in that end of the car. She quickly
slid the amount into the sleeping boy's pocket,
removed the muff from under his head without arous-
ing him, and got off at Twenty-third street, including
all the passengers in a pretty little inclination of the
head that seemed full of thanks and a common secret.^
Love begets love. Goodness is catching. Love and
I, Union Sig., Jan., '89.
398 THE NEW RELIGION.
goodness put a charm upon men from which they
cannot escape.
We have already had occasion to note the passion
of love as a human sensibility and to consider it as
concreted in the life of Jesus. In conclusion we note
it as the Spirit of God, and powerful to save from sin.
Love has been the theme of the poet in all ages,
and literature abounds with beautiful illustrations of
its power to sway the will and reform the life.
Love is a passion native to the human soul. He is
most depraved who can most habitually and effectually
resist its power. It is interesting to notice its out-
cropping in all the walks of life. Cyrus, having
entered Armenia and taken the king and all his family
captive, ordered them before him. ^^Arminius/'
said he, ^^go, you are free, for you are sensible of
your error; and what will you give me if I restore
your wife to you?" ^^All that I am able." ^^And
what if I restore your children?" ^^All that I am
able." ^^And you, Tigranes," turning to the son,
^'what will you do to save your wife from servitude?"
'^I would lay down my own life," said the love-bound
Tigranes. *^Let each have his own again," said
Cyrus, and departed.
Then one spoke of his clemency, another of his
valor, another of his beauty and grace of person.
**Do you think him handsome?" said Tigranes to his
young wife. ^^Really," said she, ^T did not look at
him." ^^At whom did you look?" ^^At him who offered
to lay down his life for nip,"
THE CHRIST MISSION, 399
The story of Damon and Pythias has been often
told. Though somewhat legendary it is true to human
nature. Pythias was condemned to death by the
wanton tyrant, Dionysius. He wanted to return
home and arrange matters for his family. Damon
proposes to take his place, under sentence of death,
and allow Pythias to return to his family with the
understanding that he should make haste and return
if possible before the day of execution and relieve his
good friend Damon. He returns just in time to
save Damon's life, and you have noticed how such
love and fidelity affected the tyrant — affected him
more powerfully than the great Plato could when
presenting to him his ideal ^'Republic." *^My good
fellows, you are both free.'' The cold iron of his
nature yielded as it had never done before — *^You are
both free. I should like to be a sharer with you in
that love which makes such generous conduct
possible."
The same strain of nobilit}^ ran in the blood of the
men that made Rome master of the world.
Regulus being defeated and taken prisoner by the
Carthagenians, was deputed to the Roman Senate as
the one man who could most influence that body.
*'Go," said Carthage, ^^and secure the terms we pro-
pose and you are free. But fail and you perish as
the greatest enemy of the Carthagenians." Regulus
went on parole to Rome, and, entering the Senate, he
insisted that the terms were dishonorable to his coun-
try and prevented their acceptance. Bound by his
400 THE NEW RELIGION.
honor he returns to Carthage to be put to death as he
knew he would be, with horrible torture. Most noble
Regulus, what charm was upon thee! What the
secret of such nobility! Whence such inflexible devo-
tion to the ideal right! The world delights to honor
^hee! Love is the mother ot heroism.
Let the fire fiend sweep over Chicago, or the angry
flood overwhelm and destroy Johnstown, or the
earthquake bury Charleston, or the plague smite the
Southland, and what do we see! We say God was in
the proffered bounty because love was in it.
An humble, obscure peasant woman of my intimate
acquaintance goes down into a protracted struggle
with the powers of darkness and a deep sense oi sin
before God, but she emerges into a life of light and
love to become a ^ ^burning and shining light. '* She
marries, and though poor, she adopts successively
five orphan children, graded in age, a la mode, and
trains them up with a mother's tenderness and solicitude
in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Not by
might nor by power, but by my spirit — the divine
passion. Such are the possibilities of ordinary
human nature under the reign of love. No other
passion can be enlisted for purposes so holy; none so
strong to achieve the ransom of the soul from sin and
bear it away into all helpfulness.
A young woman in Scotland left her home and
^^went to the bad." Her mother sought her far and
wide in vain. Chancing one day to see her mother's
picture, she sank down overwhelmed with a sense of
THE CHRIST MISSION. 4OI
sin. She was the prodigal daughter. The memory
of her mother's love swept over her, and, like her
older brother, she came to herself and resolved to
abandon her sinful life and return to her mother — for
she knew that she would forgive her. She was saved
— by my Spirit, saith the Lord.
The most orthodox Nicenist will concede that the
intermediary suffering and sacrifice of the ^^Lamb of
God" are available only on certain conditions. A man
becomes a Christian by accepting Christ as his savior
only, when the needful moral influences have reached
him; and this is true whatever view of the atonement
is adopted.
Let us not doubt the potency of the cross to appeal
to the heart and to stir the soul to its depths. Christ
and him crucified was the theme of Paul's preaching
throughout his great mission, as it must be that of
every successful preacher of the Christian gospel.
But Paul wrote the 13th chapter of ist Corinth-
ians, *^If I have not charity I am as sounding brass, or
a tinkling cymbal. A certain subjective moral con-
dition is imperatively necessary to true happiness,
whatever may be the involved conditions or the
environment. It is not the sacrifice and death of the
Lord Jesus Christ as such — but the engendered love —
the love which such an exhibition of personal sym-
pathy awakens in the soul, that saves men. During
his life he appealed to the hearts of men, not so much
by parading the fact that he was to be offered up as a
402 THE NEW RELIGION.
sacrifice to appease offended justice, as he did by
other means.
The fact is, it may be fairly questioned whether he
ever alluded to such a denouement of his commission.
The passages claimed and relied upon for setting up
this view are ominously few in number and withal
admit of a very different and more rational interpre-
tation; nor does such interpretation detract from or
weaken the power of his life to stir the soul to its
depths and awaken the better nature.
That the Heavenly Father must be propitiated;
that the Lord Jesus must be offered up as bulls and
goats are offered, and that blood can wash away sin,
are gross conceptions that have come down to us from
Paganism and old Judaism, and are becoming more
and more repulsive to Christian thought. Nothing
can be clearer from the evangelistic point of view than
that love dominated the Heavenly Father in sending
the only begotten Son, that love dominated the Son
in the fulfillment of his mission, and that love must
come to dominate the alien child and bring him back,
prodigal-like, to the Heavenly Father, if he is to be
saved.
If his salvation is made to turn upon any specific
objective means or conditions, it is inevitably certain,
such is human nature, that he will soon come to trust
too much to such means, and fall away into a formal
and dead or half dead externalism. This tendenc}^
and this result is palpably evident in the worship of the
cld Roman and Greek churches, and traces of it may
THE CHRIST MISSION. 403
be found even among the best forms of Protestant
orthodox}^ In the literature and hymnology of the
churches the ^^cross," and the ^ ^cleansing blood" are
constantly paraded as the Christian's hope, and sine
qua non. % % %
"Then if thou bid'st me pray or go
Unto the prison, I'U say no;
Christ having paid, I nothing owe;
For this is sure, the debt is dead
By law, the bond is cancelled."
-Robert Herrick.
'It is the old cross still,
On which the living one
Did for man's sins atone.
Old cross, on thee I lean.
Old and yet ever new
I glory still in you.
Hallelujah!
It shall stand forever."
— Bonar.
Poetic symbolism you say. Yes, but a symbolism
which among the ignorant masses of the Greek and
Roman churches has already prostituted Christian
worship to the verge of fetichism.
A consistent example, radiant with the graces which
love engenders, is precisely what is most needed every-
where in this alienated and misguided world. Few
men will resist or care to resist the overtures of love.
To capture men and bind them to you with cords of
404 THE NFAV RELIGION.
steel you must banish selfishness and make such
common cause with them as love requires.
The power of a pure love to sway the heart and
rule the life is well known — nothing is better certified
to our knowledge. It is the great factor of goodness;
and goodness is the only hope. But goodness implies
consent, reciprocity. God does not appear in human
consciousness as a factor of personal goodness. He
does not compel us to be good. Indeed, we know
that we could not be compelled by any might or
power to be good. Love comes and captures con-
sent, cuts away selfishness, sweetens life, brings in
peace and good-will — develops goodness.
Love as manifested in the Heavenly Father, as
seen in the blessed Lord Jesus Christ, as revealed in
in the lives of the pure and good whose lives are the
light of the world, this is the inspiration and the
source of all goodness.
"Love strong as death — nay stronger,
Love mightier than the grave,
Broad as the earth and longer
Than ocean's widest wave:
This is the love that sought us.
This is the love that bought us,
This is the love that brought us
To gladdest day from night,
From deepest shame to glory bright,
From depths of death to life's fair height.
From darkness to the joy of light."
— Bonar,
CHAPTER XXXVIL
The Ministry of the Spirit.
The universe has proceeded from a power which is
not only an enduring power that makes for right-
eousness, as Mathew Arnold has said, but a power
which, with equal certainty, makes for paternal love
and providence.
If this postulate could not be maintained from
nature, it is, at least, very clearly set forth by the
Founder of the New Religion.
Starting with this conception of the Divine Being,
the most skeptical could hardly doubt that intercom-
munication between the All Father and his children
must in some way be not only possible, but frequent
and easy; and this precisely is what Jesus assumed
to be true.
This thought of the Father's vigilant care over all
his creatures pervades the teaching of the Founder
of the Christian system. But how is this care mani-
fested— how for the birds and for men? Not wholly
by visible agencies, not in such a way as to dispense
with the individual's activity, or to interfere with his
autonom}^ He has made both birds and men with
such adaptations to their environment, and endowed
them with such capacities and instincts that, while
4o6 THE NEW RELIGION.
they remain obedient to the laws of their being, they
will infallibly be fed and clothed. The divine provi-
dence and sympathy extend to every form of life,
and the law that governs all, it seems more and more
plain, is characteristically the law of love.
The part which we play in the drama of life is com-
paratively small, and mostly visible, but the part
played for us, though invisible, is great, and instantly
and imperatively needful.
Do you say we sow and reap, and supply our
wants? Yes — but whence come the germ and the
fostering influences out of which come the grain and
the bread? Whence come tlie thousand beautiful
adaptations of light and warmth and air and moisture
which develop the germ — whence the appetite and
taste that select and measure our food to us — whence
the digestive fluids, the blood currents and heart-
beats and oxygen that instantly sustain the manifold
processes of nutrition? Who, sleeping or waking,
runs the complex machinery of your life? Surrender-
ing, as we so habitually do, to mere sense, we fail to
apprehend the immanence and the reality of spirit
existence and spirit power.
All power is predicable, not of matter, which can
neither move itself, nor stop itself when moved, but
of spirit. And the fact brought out by the Son of
Man, and the fact never to be forgotten, is, that this
all-power spirit makes for paternal care and provi-
dence, and is, or at least seeks to be, in constant
rapport with the spirit of man. We hardly realize
THE CHRIST MISSION. 407
how closely we stand to great physical and spiritual
forces — physical and spiritual, if such a distinction
may yet be made. Our senses are so ^ ^cabined and
cribbed," so dull and feeble, that our own world is
really very small. We see wonders in suggestive
outcrops, but only in outcrops.
We strike the chords of some crude, heavy-going
musical instrument — this has been our only privi-
lege. We may, if we have an appreciative ear, detect
intimations of fine melodies — hints of musical power
and realization. The Cleremont of Fulton was a hint
of the Great Eastern, and her five miles an hour a
foregleam of a trip across the Atlantic in five days.
Franklin's kite, evincing the most brilliant conception
of that age, was a prophecy of annihilated space, and
the construction of a whispering gallery 25,000 miles
in circumference. Morse and Edison and others
helping us, we have taken a long step into the hith-
erto unseen, and the rifts in our material encasing
have allowed us to catch other gleams that glint and
flash from the realms of light. What in the way of
spirit manifestation and revelation of power awaits
the next step, and the next, and the next?
We can see farther now and hear better. The
improvement has been along the line of sense-per-
ception, and immediately related to our higher nature.
In the sphere of mere animal life we have hardly
improved upon our ancestors of long ago. But in
the domain of art, of science, of morals and religion
we have improved.
4o8 THE NEW RELIGION.
^*The whole movement of history," says Rev.
Joseph Parker, ^*in all that is vital and permanent, is
a movement from the outward visible to the inward
spiritual." I would put it differently. I would pre-
fer to say, the movement is from within. Matter,
organic and inorganic, is the mother condition of
germinal life, and the processes of life are develop-
mental— expansive — from within outward. But of
the moveme7it^ there can be no doubt. Mr. Parker
continues: ^'From the minuteness of microscopic
by-laws, men have passed to a spiritual sense of moral
distinctions. The great tables of b3^-laws have been
taken down, because the spirit of order, of truth, has
been given. What is true of law is equally true of
institutionalism; its progress is from a crude outline
toward completeness of purpose and critical accuracy
of statement.''^
The thought of Mr. Parker will bear expansion. In
the earlier stages of religious development the
dependence upon material symbols is all but absolute.
There have been, and there must have been, in all
lands, offered sacrifices and burnt incense, altars and
officiating priests, to give expression to instinctive
religious wants, and the religious sense, because of a
conscious dependence upon externalities in the wor-
ship of God. Our knowledge of the Jewish people,
their religion and worship, is more full and accurate
than that of any other people, and may be considered
I. Apostolic Life,
THE CHRIST MISSION. 409
representative. Thirty-four centuries ago Moses, versed
in all the learning of the Egyptians — then the most
highly cultivated people of the world, was delivering
the law from Mt. Sinai, and organizing an elaborate
system of worship. It was thoroughly external — ritual-
istic. It consisted of sacrifices and ceremony. It
required altars and incense and officiating priests —
hecatombs of slaughtered victims. A visible angel of
the Lord went before them to show them the way.
All of which was provisional, educational, mediatorial,
and designed to help them toward the spiritual,
whether Moses so understood it or not.
Five hundred years later the question was raised,
''Hath the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings
and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord.
Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken
better than the fat of rams.'' i Sam. 15: 22. The
thought of the old seer was a brilliant one, and opened
up a new world.
During the next one hundred years a great advance
was made, and we hear the Psalmist, as God's mes-
senger, crying out to his people, ''Hear O Israel, I
will tak6 no bullock out of the house, nor he goat out
ot thy field, for every beast of the forest is mine, and
the cattle upon a thousand hills. I know all the fowls
ot the mountains, and the wild beasts of the fields are
mine. Will I eat the flesh of bulls or drink the blood
o' goacs? Ojftr ttnto God thanksgiving and pay thy
vows unto the Most High." Psa. 50: 7-14. A more
4IO THE NEW RELIGION.
spiritual worship is dawning upon the masters of
thought in that early age.
Three hundred years later, the question is raised, —
'^Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow
myself before the High God? Shall I come before
him with burnt-offering — with calves of a year old?
Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rivers of
oil? Shall I give my first born for my transgression —
the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He hath
showed thee, O man, what is good, — and what doth
the Lord require of thee but to do justly and to love
mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.'' Micah
6: 6. A great move forward certainly from Mt.
Sinai.
Amid the vast reverses that befell that highly
favored, but unfortunate, people, the movement seems
to have been somewhat retarded and the advance-
ment toward a true conception of God and his wor-
ship is less pronounced, but there was progress
nevertheless.
The religion of Micah had gone to the other
extreme. It had become mere morality. The ideal
divine government or kingdom of heaven had not
come to light. Worship by means of slaughtered
victims and shed blood was felt more and more to be
deficient and imperfect, and Micah could see nothing
in it. But there remained a conscious want of har-
mony between the sinful soul and the ^^Moral Order.''
Six hundred years later the cry was heard in the
Judean deserts — the voice of one crying in the wilder-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 4II
ness ^^make straight the way of the Lord" — a voice
which with impassioned fervor called men to repent-
ance as a preparation for the kingdom of heaven.
A long stride has been made during these 1500
years from Mount Sinai to the banks of the Jordan.
The passage from the external to the internal has
been effected, and a new era in religion dawns. The
light already gilds the tops of the mountains.
The Samaritan woman at the well of Jacob, repre-
senting the average worshiper, raises this question —
the last in the category of materialism — (9?/r fathers
worshiped in this mountain, but the Jews say that
in Jerusalem is the place to worship — where is the
place to worship? '^The fulness of the times had come"
for the announcement of a pure spiritual worship —
for independence of the soul upon shrine and symbol.
The goal is reached. ^ ''Woman, believe me,'' said
the Son of God; ^*the time cometh, and now is, when
neither in this mountain nor in Jerusalem shall ye
worship the Father. The true worshiper, worships
in spirit and in truth. God is a spirit, and they that
worship him must worship in spirit and in truth."
Jno. 4: 21-24.
There is wide complaint among the churches,
especially in the older communities, that the public
worship of God is neglected. And as a matter of
fact there are very man}^ who care little for the ritual
and ceremony of public worship. Several factors no
doubt unite in producing this result. But, it can
hardly be doubted; that many have ceased to feel the
412 THE NEW RELIGION.
need of such external appliances to aid them in the
worship of God. They are approaching a degree of
intelligence and spirituality which enables them to
apprehend God as a spirit, to be worshiped as such,
in spirit and in truth.
With advancing life, if one use and cultivate his
powers properly, the spiritual becomes more and more
immanent and realistic. Any proper use and cultiva-
tion of one's powers must, of course, include his
moral nature. Mr. Fisher and the authors of the
Unseen Universe have convinced us, that what we see
of the physical universe, is little more than an infini-
tesimal part of it.^ But what we care just now to
study is, not the boundless extension of the physical, —
its latitude and longitude, — but the immanence of the
spiritual, in its relation to human possibilities.
Within this field of inquiry there cannot be a doubt
that Jesus, the Christ and Son of God, is the world's
greatest teacher. If indeed he be the Son of God, as
represented by his biographers, this were an a priori
expectation. No one could doubt his capabilities as
a teacher of things unknown to ordinary men, and, as
a matter of fact, few, I think, will question the value
of his contributions to our knowledge of spirit and
spirit existence.
The movement from the material to the spiritual
noticed by Mr. Parker, is due more to him than to all
philosophers and scholars besides. If true, and we
J. See Atlantic Monthly^ 1889.
THE CHRIST MISSION. 413
have no good reason for questioning the historical fact,
those were strange and significant rifts in the over-
arching material — that voice from heaven — that scene
on the mount of transfiguration, the touch of healing,
the resurrection, the ascension. Nothing like them
in the world's history — flashes from the world of
light streaming away across the bosom of night, into
the dark and distant horizon. '
^^I have many things to say to you," he said to his
disciples, ^ 'but ye cannot bear them now.'' He was
constantly making revelations to his disciples which
on account of their gross preconceptions — their ina-
bility to rise out of the organic material, they did not
and could not grasp, but, going beyond all these, he
could scarcely restrain himself from other revelations,
yet more difficult to comprehend and wonderful. ^'I
have many things to say," but ^'ye cannot bear them
now." ^'Howbeit when the spirit of truth is come he
shall guide you into all truth." Jno. 16:12.
Blessed spirit of truth, come. Thou art our great
hope. Come and guide us into all truth!
To educate men and thus lift them into higher
spheres of life and light, is a slow and difficult work.
The pillar of cloud and fire stood over the altar for
hundreds of years, before even the favorite children
of God, and this, too, under the inspired teaching of
seer and prophet, could get away from visible symbols
and worship God with any intelligence. What heca-
tombs of slaughtered victims — ' 'firstlings of the flock"
^— did it require to make the people realise that ''God
414 THE NEW RELIGION.
is of purer eyes than to look upon sin," and how did
the Son of God labor and wait to impart a true con-
ception of his purpose and mission to the world?
But as the movement from the material to the spir-
itual was forward from Moses to Micah, and from
Micah to John, under this teacher ^'come from God"
it has been forward from John to the present da}^
Grant, if you please, the movement has not been
steadily forward. Christianity suffered so much in its
conflict with paganism — came so near being utterly
absorbed by it, that the pillar of cloud and fire again
stood still for a thousand years. But thank God, the
day dawned on this long, dark night, the spirit of
truth guiding into truth — and the Renaissance opened
the world to freer thinking. Christ with his blessed
gospel came to the rescue, and we find ourselves at an
immense remove from the Baptist preacher in Judea
— *^He that is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater
than he." Much that was difficult at the dawn of
Christianity is easy now. The impossible then, has
been achieved. With faith as a grain of mustard
seed, the sycamine tree has been plucked up — the
mountain removed into the sea, and we have almost
ceased saying with Nicodemus, ^^how can these things
be?"
The Son of Man sought to open up a vast realm
hitherto unknown to seer or prophet. The teaching
of the sermon on the mount assumes that there is such
a realm. There is a kingdom in which the poor in
spirit, and those who mourn, and those who hunger
THE CHRIST MISSION. 4x5
and thirst after righteousness, and the merciful, and
the pure in heart are blessed. It is a kingdom that
Cometh not with observation. How he sought to im-
part a true conception of this kingdom! To this
kingdom how he sought instantly and anxiously to
bear away the thought and the hope of the world!
In his own experience the mere physical and sensu-
ous sink more and more out of sight. The spiritual
becomes more and more immanent and obvious. On
the low ground of the visible, death ends all; but
upon the high ground upon which he stood, and upon
which he would have the world stand, death does not
end all. In his thought death is little more than an
incident, soon to become a mere reminiscence — a half-
forgotten memory. ^^Touch me not," said he to Mary,
after the resurrection. ^'I am quitting this sensuous
state of being; touch me not, I ascend to my Father."
The pulses of his life were already beating across the
chasm. Unseen realities already outweigh all that is
visible. This was his assumption from the first; and
to this height he would lift men.
Shall we say that the scene on the mount of trans-
figuration was a revelation of the personnel of the
future state of being, seen in Moses and Elias, one
now dead 1500 and the other 800 years?
Shall we say that the resurrection of Jesus demon-
strates the fact, so earnestly sought for through the
ages, that ^^If a man die he shall \\w^ again." Why
not?
Shall we say tha,t the resurrected Son of Man
4l6 • THE NEW RELIGION.
lingered for forty days as one treading the outmost
limits of the visible, ready to pass out of these time
and sense relations, and, both by his manner of life
and by his teaching, sought in ways wonderful, but
adapted to their purpose, to lift the human soul out of
and above its mere sensuous experience, and to take it
with him into the inexplicate realities upon which he
is entering in advance? Did he thus seek to span the
chasm between man and his maker. Is he the ladder
which Jacob in the olden time saw in his vision rest-
ing upon the earth and reaching to heaven — the angels
passing and repassing?
Shall we regard his ascension as the complement of
his ministry and mediatorial mission as the world's
Savior, in reference to which he said, ^^And I, if I be
lifted up, will draw all men unto me?''
If we should answer all these questions in the
affirmative we should probably not be far from the
truth.
But if these things be so what is the extent and
fullness of these spirit manifestations as compared
with all that the world had ever known or imagined?
Whatever else may be true it cannot be doubted that
this wonderful Son of Man, though confessedly but
imperfectly understood even yet, is the world's great
teacher in regard to matters spiritual.
Having prepared his disciples as best he could for the
coming of a larger spirituallife, he makes known to them
the fact that a fuller and more direct manifestation
of the spirit i? at hand. Behold, I gend the promi§^
THE CHRIST MISSION, 417
of the Father upon you — even the spirit which pro-
ceedeth from the Father — Tarry ye in Jerusalem until
endued with power from on high.
And now he breaks to them the sad intelligence
that, in order to do this, he must depart out of this
world — intelligence which filled them with sorrow.
^^If I go not away the Spirit — ho Parakletos — will not
come.'* You so habitually lean upon the visible — -
upon sense, it will be impossible for you to realize
your capacities as spirits independent of the material
organism while I remain among you. But, if I go
away, I will send him unto you. Then, on thinking
of me you will be able to realize that, though unseen,
I am present with you, and you shall be able to live
over again and perpetuate in larger development the
experience we have had together, and our intercourse
thenceforth will be more constant and intimate and
less embarrassed than it could be if I were to remain
in the flesh with you. In the body gravity interferes
— locomotion is hindered. You must scatter abroad.
In the body it would be difficult — impossible for me
to follow you and be with you. In the body we step
forward only on and on. In the spirit we can return
to the past — to the sermon on the mount — to Bethany
and Jerusalem — to the mount of transfiguration — to
Gethsemane and the Cross, and so, returning with me
in spirit, you will listen again to my words, and you
will get their meaning as you never got it before —
you will come to understand my mission and work
whigh you did not, ' at the time, half understand, and
41 8 THE NEW RELIGION.
you will begin to realize, as you can never otherwise
do, what the Kingdom of Heaven really is. '^I tell
you the truth, it is expedient that I go away." In
this way only can the necessary progress in this move-
ment toward the spiritual be accomplished.
Withdrawing from their sight and hearing he took
away their dependence upon his visible presence and
threw them upon their memories and meditations.
He turned them from the outward to the inward —
from the material to the spiritual. The evidence
which completed the demonstration of his Messiah-
ship and the truth of what he had taught had now
been furnished — furnished in his arrest and trial, his
condemnation, his crucifixion, his resurrection, all of
which he had foretold. In the light of this evidence
the past is to be re-read.
Some of us yet lean heavily upon the visible and
sensuous. We want a visible Christ. We think if
he were but present as he was to the apostles, how
easy it would be to understand, to accept and follow
him; and we can hardly see why the benevolent
Father did not give to every age its visible Christ and
to our own as well.
But as it was expedient that he then should with-
draw himself from sight, it is expedient still that he
remain unseen. The tendency to localize and enshrine
the object of worship is yet very strong, even among
Christians. It is seen most among the more ignorant
and less developed classes. You see it in the Roman
|nd Greek churches. If a little critical you will detect
THE CHRIST MISSION. 4ig
it also in Protestant churches, especially in the
dedicatory services of churches and temples. It is
expedient for j^'^^ that I go away.
When the Holy Spirit — to pneuma agion — has come
he shall glorify me, for he shall receive of mine and
shall show them unto you. Jno. i6: 14.
The relations which the Holy Spirit that proceedeth
from the Father sustains to the Messiah are close and
intimate. The circumstances changed, the minds of
men better prepared, the development more complete,
the divine spirit will reproduce and emphasize the
teachings and the life of the Son of God and make
them more real — more powerful to save.
Besides, much of this teaching was but a planting
in the soil of humanity. After all, the disciples had
only caught hints and glints of the truth. The oak
was yet in the acorn — its potencies not half compre-
hended. As the acorn needs the fostering light,
germinal truth also needs the fostering light of the
spirit that proceedeth from the Father. ^^He shall
take the things of mine and show them unto you and
shall bring all things to remembrance whatsoever I
have said." As the truth opens up to you more and
more under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, this
doctrine — my former teaching — and that revelation
will come trooping back into memory and stand forth
in living light.
When the Comforter — no Pa7'akletos\ the Holy
Spirit — to pneuma agion\ whom the Father will send
in my name, is come, he will reprove or convict the
420 THE NEW RELIGION.
world — elexi ton kosmon\ of sin — peri amartias, and of
righteousness — pert dikaiosunes^^xidi of judgment — peri
kriseos. Jno. i6: 7, 8.
How shall he do this?
In the process of time, in the light of accumulating
truth the hearts of men will be touched by the Spirit
of truth, not all at once, nor as to all men in the
present age, but in the ages to come, and they will
be convinced of the truth of my pretensions. Poster-
ity will reverse the judgment of the Sanhedrim. The
Holy Spirit of truth will lay the sin upon those who
condemned me. It will vindicate my character, and
the Tightness of my cause; it will vindicate me as the
Son of God sent on a special mission to the world,
which now, to seeming, is ended because I go to the
Father. And this vindication made, the prince of
this world stands condemned. All that hinder the
truth and the right must share in the condemnation
which awaits iniquity and sin. When the Holy Spirit,
which proceedeth from the Father, is come, he will
convict the world of sin, of righteousness and of
judgment.
We have noticed in former pages how men, under
the influence of inordinate passion, have fallen into
error. The Son of God here lifts the veil and makes
known to them how they may avoid error and be led
into truth. The spirit of truth and candor must
come and possess them. They must covet it as God's
best gift. They must with earnest prayer and yearn-
ing put themselves in rapport with it. The differ-
THE CHRIST MISSION. 42I
ence between truth and error will become more evi-
dent. The truth will become more precious. It will
appear where it had never been seen before. It will
be found in all religions — in all philosophies. If the
Holy Spirit shall so reveal the divine presence as to
subordinate disturbing passions and thus clear the
sky of reason, it will save from error — it will help the
discovery of truth.
When the spirit of truth — to Pneuma Aletheias — is
to come he will guide you into all truth and show you
things to come. Jno. i6; 13.
There are things to come which we very much want
to know, but which we cannot find out with all the
picks and hammers of our speculative thinking.
What mean mesmeric and clairvoyant phenomena?
What various healing phenomena, conditioned, shall
we say, on certain mental states? What the teaching
of that hour of prayer in solitude, when the soul,
seeking to strip itself of things earthly, essays to
climb up to heaven? What the significance of
thwarted purposes and well-meant endeavors? What
the meaning of life cut down in youth and prime, of
the wide inequality of human conditions, of gross and
sickening wrongs and injustice seemingly unpunished?
What the meaning of the sobs and heart-breaks at the
grave of our dead, of blighted hopes and wide-spread
suffering? — We know but in part. Sorrow breaks
upon joy and joy upon sorrow — the night and the day
of the soul — this play and counter play, what of it?
Spirit-ward there are things to come.
422 THE NEW RELIGION.
At Pentecost they, for the first time, found it possi
ble to comprehend in any clear light the scheme of
human redemption — to realize the great salvation.
When the spirit of truth had come, the beautiful life
they had witnessed in the Son of Man, his death and
passion, his dying prayer, his resurrection and forty
days of sojourn among them, during which it seemed
he would almost lift them bodily into the spirit
world, and finally his ascension, conspire — tout ensem-
ble— to sweep them outward into broader fields and
higher life — into his own kingdom, which is not of
this world. — They began to see ^ ^things to come."
The Christian is favored with peculiar manifesta-
tions of spirit influence. He has come into recipro-
cal relations with the beloved Son and with the
Father, and within these relations he becomes the
subject of other experiences — other charisms.
Once appetitive indulgence, money, power, fame,
display — these filled the horoscope, these charmed
and swayed the life. But the shadow of death hung
over them. In his new relation to the Father, love,
gratitude, truth, right, mercy, sympathy, the ideal
perfections of an ideal Savior — these make up the
enchanting camera-lucida. Appetitive indulgence and
fleeting pleasures -are subordinate — thought is wont
to range above them. These eternal verities are his,
and no shadow of death hangs over them.
But what of those who have not been favored with
the special teaching of the Messiah?
It is very plain from our point of view that they
THE CHRIST MISSION. 423
have suffered loss. The spirit which proceedeth from
the Father could not bring to their remembrance
things they had never heard or known, or teach them
what they were not prepared to learn.
But many good things had been done, many noble
precepts formulated, many life-inspiring and life-sav-
ing things had been said and done by the Old Masters
of thought — the Messiahs of pagan and heathen lands.
Their love for humanity, the sacrifices they made, the
truth they discovered, the blessings they conferred,
must not be lost upon the world. They shall not be.
The Hol}^ Spirit will reproduce them for the ages,
write them in the memories and burn them into the
hearts of the successive generations. They shall be
conserved and shall conspire to aid in the uplift and
salvation of the world. Thou blessed Holy Spirit,
thou Light of the World, show all peoples the things
that have been and ^'things to come/^
Finis.
INDEX.
Analysis, Psychological, needed 17
Appetite, Uses of 37
Asceticism 148
Asceticism, a form of selfishness 156
Avarice 43
Birth, The new = 317
Character, Transformation of rapid 317
Christ, The Q.ij et seq.
Christ, The, A revelation ; 266
Christ Character, The 203
Christ Teaching, The, difficulty of understanding. 275
Christian Canon, The , 212
Christian, The, a Supplementary Christ 358
Christ Mission, The, outlined 259
Christ Mission, The, set forth by the Evangelists. 259
Christ Mission, The, as understood by himself.. 261
Christianity, Contents of 210
Christianity, As understood by J. S. Mill 352
'^Conversion," Cases of 215
''Conversion," Peter 318
"Conversion," Paul 320
"Conversion," Justyn Martyr 323
426 INDEX.
^'Conversion/' Jerry McAuley 326
'Conversion," Others 333
Creeds, not changed by the Reformation 215
Depravity, Different views of 11
Depravity, Ethical difficulties, as stated by Dr.
Wardlaw 13
Depravity, Ethical desiderata. 15
Design, as seen in nature 19
Dialogue, on the duties and the privileges of the
Christian 378
Doctrine, The, Ministry of 275
Education, More Greek than Christian 65
Education, Course of study 67
Error of Old Religions 168
Evil, General considerations i
' Evil, Compensations 4
Evil, Exaggerated 2
Evil for evil 277
Faith, a belief 340
Faith, a trust 345
God, Service of 381
Gospel, Powerless, why 385
Heathens and the Holy Spirit 422
Individual, The, in Christianity 364
Inspiration, Plenary 191
Intellect, The 57
Intellect, The, Infirmity of 57
Intention, not the rule of judgment 361
Jesus, Evangelistic account of 217
Jesus, Biographers of 205
INDEX. 427
Jesus, Genesis of miraculous 186
Jesus, Sui Generis , 234
Jesus an Exemplar 235
Jesus a Philanthropist 246
Jesus as a Philanthropist, compared with Moses. 252
Jesus, Compared with Sakya Mouni 255
Jesus, Compared with Socrates 249
Jesus as a Teacher 239
Jesus, His reliance upon example 354
Judgment, The last 376
Knowledge, Virtue of 120
Life immortal, The 109
Longevity 27
LovCj The chief affection 80
Love, Christian, levels things 387
Love, Sexual, uses of 49
Love, Sexual, abuses of 54
Love, Sexual, has relation only to present state
of being 55
Man, The ideal and the real 7
Man, of two natures 23
Men, different orders of 187
Ministry of doctrine, The, Peace 311
Ministry of doctrine, The, Prayer 301
Ministry of doctrine. The, Regeneration 295
Ministry of doctrine. The, Repentance 285
Ministry of Love, The 397
Miracles 185, 193
Miracles, Hume's argument 185
l^orals, Egyptiaii cQ4e ^ ,.,.,,,,, ^ ,,..,,,,,,. , 12^
428 INDEX.
Morals, The Brahmin code 127
Morals, The Buddhist code 128
Morals, other codes 130
Nature, The lower 27
Nature, The lower, how improved 32
Organization, a ^^craze" 372
Organization in religion 364
Organization, danger of 371
Optimism 5
Parker, Rev. J 408
Peace and good will 311
Plato and Paul 202
Prayer 301
Property, desire for 41
Property, uses of 42
Property, a competency 43
Property, passion for gratified in the present life . . 44
Punishment, not reformatory 166
Purpose of the Creator must be followed. ...... 19
Quid credendum 340 to 345
Quid fidendum 345 to 351
Regeneration, nature and extent of 295
Regeneration, law of 291
Regeneration, necessity of 294
Religions, The Old, their merits considered 117
Religions, supernatural 181
Religion, The New 203
Religion among pagans and heathens 135
Religion, Aryan 140
Religion, Egyptian , , , , ,,..,,.,.,., 137
INDEX.
429
Religion, Persian , 140
Religion, progress of 408
Repentance 285
Repentance, stoicism in regard to 289
Sensibilities, prevalence of 74
Sensibilities, classification of 77
Socialism, Christian 387
Spirit, separate from matter loi
Study, course of 67
Supernatural, The 178
Sympathy, want of in the Old Religions 169
Sympathy, all men need 172
Taste, uses of 37
Treasure in Heaven 280
Will, The 85
Will, function of o , . . . 87
Will, freedom of , 89
Will, disorder of 97
Will, weak and strong 96
Woman, rights of 278
Works, ministry of 352
World-life, The, fulfills its destiny in the present
state of being 109
Yearning, the prophesy of gratification 112
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