Skip to main content

Full text of "Natural law in the spiritual world"

See other formats 


h 


11  -^^y'H 


IVaturalIaw  ^ 

^ORLD 


IMTHB 


k 


r  ^  " 


BW^^ 


^.  f .  /'-'/ 


<^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  *jf 


Presented    by    ~Sayr\ey    G  .   rn  (SU^r'^  Cx /< 


BL  240  .D8  1887  \ 

Drummond,  Henry,  1851-1897.1 
Natural  law  in  the  spiritual 
world 


.'UN   9   1914 


NATURAL   LAW 


IN  THE 


SPIRITUAL    WORLD. 


B^ 


HENRY   DRUMMOND,    F.  R.  S.  E. ;  iT.Q.ii. 


NEW   YORK 
JOHN    B.    ALDEN,    PUBLISHER 
1887 


-ARGYLE    PRESS, 

Printing  and  Bookbindinq, 
24  a  26  wooster  st.,  n.  y. 


CONTENTS 


Preface, 

Introduction, 

Biogenesis, 

Degeneration, 

Growth, 

Death, 

Mortification, 

Eternal  Life, 

Environment, 

Conformity  to  Type, 

Semi-Parasitism, 

Parasitism, 

Classification. 


5 

21 

59 

83 

99 

111 

133 

149 

181 

203 

233 

237 

255 


PREFACE. 


No  class  of  works  is  received  with  more  si;s- 
picion,  I  had  ahiiost  said  derision,  than  those 
which  deal  with  Science  and  Religion.  Science  is 
tired  of  reconciliations  between  two  things  which 
never  should  have  been  contrasted;  Religion  is 
offended  by  the  patronage  of  an  ally  which  it  j^ro- 
f esses  not  to  need;  and  the  critics  have  rightly 
discovered  that,  in  most  cases  where  Science  is 
either  j^itted  against  Religion  or  fused  with  it, 
there  is  some  fatal  misconception  to  begin  with  as 
to  the  scope  and  province  of  either.  But  although 
no  initial  protest,  j^robably,  will  save  this  work 
from  the  unhappy  reputation  of  its  class,  the 
thoughtful  mind  will  perceive  that  the  fact  of  its 
subject-matter  being  Law — a  property  peculiar 
neither  to  Science  nor  to  Religion — at  once  places 
it  on  a  somewhat  different  footing. 

The  real  problem  I  have  set  myself  may  be 
stated  in  a  sentence.  Is  there  not  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  many  of  t!ie  Laws  of  the  Spiritual  World, 
hitherto  regarded  as  occupying  an  entirely  separate 
province,  are  simply  the  Laws  of  the  Natural 
World?  Can  we  identify  the  Natural  Laws,  or 
any  one  of  them,  in  the  Spiritual  sphere?  That 
vague  lines  everywhere  run  through  ^the  Spiritual 
World  is  already  beginning  to  be  recognized.  Is 
it  possible  to  link  them  with  those  great  lines  run- 
ning through  the  visible  universe  which  we  call 
the  Natural  Laws,  or  are  they  fundamentally  dis- 
tinct? In  a  word.  Is  the  Supernatural  natural  or 
unnatural  ? 

I  may,  perhaps,  be  allowed  to  answer  these  ques- 
tions in  the  form  in  which  they  have  answered 
themselves  to  myself.  And  I  must  apologize  at 
[5] 


8  PEEFACE. 

doubt,  the  reluctant  abandonment  of  early  faith 
by  those  who  would  cherish  it  longer  if  they  covud, 
is  it  not  plain  that  the  one  thing  thinking  nieu 
are  waiting  for  is  the  introduction  of  Law  among 
the  Phenomena  of  the  Spiritual  World?  When 
that  comes  we  shall  offer  to  such  men  a  truly  sci- 
entific theology.  And  the  Eeign  of  Law  will 
transform  the  whole  Spiritual  World  as  it  has 
already  transformed  the  Natural  World. 

I  confess  that  even  when  in  the  first  dim  vision , 
the  organizing  hand  of  Law  moved  among  the  un 
ordered  truths  of  my  Spiritual  World,  poor  aiui 
scantily-furnished  as  it  was,  there  seemed  to  come 
over  it  the  beauty  of  a  transfiguration.  The 
change  was  as  great  as  from  the  old  chaotic  world 
of  Pythagoras  to  the  symmetrical  and  harmonious 
universe  of  Newton.  My  Spiritual  World  before 
was  a  chaos  of  facts;  my  Theology,  a  Pythagorean 
system  trying  to  make  the  best  of  Phenomena 
apart  from  the  idea  of  Law.  I  make  no  charge 
against  Theology  in  general.  I  speak  of  my  own. 
And  I  say  that  I  saw  it  to  be  in  many  essential 
respects  centuries  behind  every  department  of 
Science  I  knew.  It  was  the  one  region  still 
unpossessed  by  Law.  I  saw  then  why  men  of 
Science  distrust  Theology;  why  those  who  have 
learned  to  look  upon  Law  as  Authority  grow  cold 
to  it — it  was  the  Great  Exception. 

I  have  alluded  to  the  genesis  of  the  idea  in  my 
own  mind  partly  for  another  reason — to  show  its 
naturalness.  Certainly  I  never  premeditated  any- 
thing to  myself  so  objectionable  and  so  unwarrant- 
able in  itself,  as  either  to  read  Theology  into 
Science  or  Science  into  Tlieology.  Nothing  could 
be  more  artificial  than  to  attempt  this  on  the 
speculative  side;  and  it  has  been  a  substantial 
rtlief  to  me  throughout  that  the  idea  rose  up  thus 
in  the  course  of  practical  work  and  shaped  itself 
day  by  day  unconsciously.  It  might  be  charged, 
aevertheless,  that  I  was  all  the  time,  whether 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  simply  reading  my 
Theology  into  my  Science.  And  as  this  would 
hopelessly  vitiate   the   conclusions   arrived   at,   I 


PREFACE.  9 

must  acquit  myself  at  least  of  the  intention.  Of 
nothing  have  I  been  more  fearful  throughout 
than  of  making  Nature  ^mrallel  with  my  own  or 
with  any  creed.  The  only  legitimate  questions 
one  dare  put  to  Xature  are  those  which  concern 
universal  human  good  and  the  Divine  interpreta- 
tion of  things.  These  I  conceive  may  be  there 
actually  studied  at  first-hand,  and  before  their 
purity  is  soiled  by  human  touch.  We  have  Truth 
in  Nature  as  it  came  from  God.  And  it  has  to  be 
read  with  the  same  unbiased  mind,  the  same 
open  eye,  the  same  faith,  and  the  same  reverence 
as  all  other  Revelation.  All  that  is  found  there, 
whatever  its  place  in  Theology,  whatever  its 
orthodoxy  or  heterodoxy,  whatever  its  narrowness 
or  its  breadth,  we  are  bound  to  accept  as  Doctrine 
from  which  on  the  lines  of  Science  there  is  no 
escape. 

When  this  presented  itself  to  me  as  a  method, 
I  felt  it  to  be  due  to  it — were  it  only  to  secure,  so 
far  as  that  was  j^ossible,  that  no  former  bias 
should  interfere  with  the  integrity  of  the  results 
— to  begin  again  at  the  beginning  and  reconstruct 
my  Spiritual  World  step  by  step.  The  result  of 
that  inquiry,  so  far  as  its  expression  in  systematic 
form  is  concerned,  I  have  not  given  in  this  book. 
To  reconstruct  a  Spiritual  Religion,  or  a  depart- 
ment of  Spiritual  Religion — for  this  is  all  the 
method  can  pretend  to — on  the  lines  of  Nature 
would  be  an  attempt  from  which  one  better  equip- 
ped in  both  directions  might  well  be  pardoned  if  he 
shrank.  My  object  at  present  is  the  humbler  one 
of  venturing  a  simple  contribution  to  practical 
Religion  along  the  lines  indicated.  What  Bacon 
predicates  of  the  Natural  World,  Nntura  enim 
non  nisi  2J(irendo  vincitur,  is  also  true,  as  Christ 
had  already  told  us,  of  the  Spir'  tual  World.  And 
I  present  a  few  samples  of  the  religious  teaching 
referred  to  formerly  as  having  been  prepared 
under  the  influence  of  scientific  ideas  in  the  hope 
that  they  may  be  useful  first  of  all  in  this  direc- 
tion. 

I   would,   however,   carefully   point    out   that 


10  PREFACE. 

though  their  unsystematic  arrangement  here  may 
create  the  impression  that  these  papers  are  merely 
isohited  readings  in  Keligion  pointed  by  casual 
scientific  truths,  they  are  organically  connected 
by  a  single  principle.  Nothing  could  be  more 
false  both  to  Science  and  to  Eeligion  than  attempts 
to  adjust  the  two  spheres  by  making  out  ingenious 
points  of  contact  in  detail.  The  solution  of  this 
great  question  of  conciliation,  if  one  may  still 
refer  to  a  problem  so  gratuitous,  must  be  generid 
rather  than  particular.  The  basis  in  a  common 
principle — the  Continuity  of  Law — can  alone  save 
specific  applications  from  ranking  as  mere  coinci- 
dences, or  exempt  them  from  the  reproach  of 
being  a  hybrid  between  two  things  which  must 
be  related  by  the  deepest  affinities  or  remain  for- 
ever separate. 

To  the  objection  that  even  a  basis  in  Law  is  no 
warrant  for  so  great  a  trespass  as  the  intrusion 
into  another  field  of  thought  of  the  principles  of 
Natural  Science,  I  would  reply  that  in  this  I  find 
I  am  following  a  lead  which  in  other  departments 
has  not  only  been  allowed  but  has  achieved  results 
as  rich  as  they  were  unexpected.  What  is  the 
Physical  Politic  of  Mr.  Walter  Bagehot  but  the 
extension  of  Natural  Law  to  the  Political  World? 
What  is  the  Biological  Sociology  of  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer  but  the  application  of  Natural  Law  to 
the  Social  World?  Will  it  be  charged  that  the 
splendid  achievements  of  such  thinkers  are 
hybrids  between  things  which  Nature  has  meant 
to  remain  apart?  Nature  usually  solves  _  such 
problems  for  herself.  Inappropriate  hybridism  is 
checked  by  the  Law  of  Sterility.  Judged  by  this 
great  Law  these  modern  developments  of  our 
knowledge  stand  uncondemned.  Within  their 
own  sphere  the  results  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer 
are  far  from  sterile — the  application  of  Biology  to 
Political  Economy  is  already  revolutionizing  the 
Science.  If  the  introduction  of  Natural  Law  into 
the  Social  sphere  is  no  violent  contradiction  but 
a  genuine  and  permanent  contribution,  shall  its 
further  extension   to    the    Spiritual    sphere    be 


PREFACE.  1 1 

counted  an  extravagance?  Does  not  the  Principle 
of  Continuity  demand  its  application  in  every 
direction?  To  carry  it  as  a  working  principle  into 
so  lofty  a  region  may  appear  impracticable. 
Difficulties  lie  on  the  threshold  which  may  seem, 
it  first  sight,  insurmountable.  But  obstacles  to  a 
true  method  only  test  its  validity.  And  he  who 
honestly  faces  the  task  may  find  relief  in  feeling 
that  whatever  else  of  crudeness  and  imperfection 
mar  it,  the  attempt  's  at  least  in  harmony  with 
i\e  thought  and  movement  of  his  time. 

That  these  papers  were  not  designed  to  appear 
in  a  collective  form,  or  indeed  to  court  the  more 
public  light  at  all,  needs  no  disclosure.  They  are 
published  out  of  regard  to  the  wish  of  known  and 
unkno  n  friends  by  whom,  when  in  a  fugitive 
form,  they  were  received  with  so  curious  an  inter- 
est as  to  make  one  feel  already  that  there  are 
minds  which  such  forms  of  truth  may  touch.  In 
making  the  present  selection,  partly  from  nianu- 
script,  and  partly  from  articles  already  published, 
I  have  been  guided  less  by  the  wish  to  constitute 
the  papers  a  connected  series  tjian  to  exhibit  the 
application  of  the  principle  in  various  directions. 
They  will  be  found,  therefore,  of  unequal  interest 
and  value,  according  to  the  standpoint  from  which 
they  are  regarded.  Thus  some  are  designed  with 
a  directly  practical  and  popular  bearing,  others 
being  more  expository,  and  slightly  apologetic  in 
tone.  The  risk  of  combining  two  objects  so  very 
different  is  somewhat  serious.  But,  for  the  reason 
named,  having  taken  this  responsibility,  the  only 
compensation  I  can  offer  is  to  indicate  which  of 
the  papers  incline  to  the  one  side  or  to  the  other. 
'"Degeneration,"  "Growth,"  'Mortification," 
"Conformity  to  T3^pe,"  "Semi-Parasitism,"  and 
"Parasitism"  belong  to  the  more  practical  order; 
and  while  one  or  two  are  intermediate,  "Bio- 
genesis," "Death,"  and  "Eternal  Life"- may  be 
offered  to  those  who  find  the  atmosphere  of  the 
former  uncongenial.  It  will  not  disguise  itself, 
however,  that,  owing  to  the  circumstances  Iti 
which  they  were  prepared,  all  the  papers  are  more 


12  PREFACE. 

or  less  practical  in  their  aim;  so  that  to  the  merely 
philosophical  reader  there  is  little  to  he  offered 
except — and  that  only  with  the  greatest  diffidence 
— the  Introductory  chapter. 

In  the  Introduction,  which  the  general  reader 
may  do  well  to  ignore,  I  have  briefly  stated  the 
case  for  Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World. 
The  extension  of  Analogy  to  Laws,  or  rather  the 
extension  of  the  Laws  themselves  so  far  as  known 
to  me,  is  new;  and  I  cannot  hope  to  have  escaped 
the  mistakes  and  misadventures  of  a  first  exploi'a- 
tion  in  an  unsurveyed  land.  So  general  has  been 
the  survey  that  I  have  not  even  paused  to  define 
specially  to  what  departments  of  the  Spiritual 
World  exclusively  the  princij^le  is  to  be  applied. 
The  danger  of  making  a  new  principle  apply  too 
widely  inculcates  here  the  utmost  caution.  One 
thing  is  certain,  and  I  state  it  pointedly,  the 
application  of  Natural  Law  to  the  Spiritual  World 
has  decided  and  necessary  limits.  And  if  else- 
where with  undue  enthusiasm  I  seem  to  magnify 
the  principle  at  stake,  the  exaggeration — like  the 
extreme  amplification  of  the  moon's  disc  when 
near  the  horizon — must  be  charged  to  that  almost 
necessary  aberration  of  light  which  distorts  every 
new  idea  while  it  is  yet  slowly  climbing  to  its 
zenith. 

In  what  follows  the  Introduction,  except  in  the 
setting  there  is  nothing  new.  I  trust  there  is 
nothing  new.  When  I  began  to  follow  out  these 
lines,  I  had  no  idea  where  they  would  lead  me. 
I  was  prepared,  nevertheless,  at  least  for  the  time, 
to  be  loyal  to  the  method  throughout,  and  share 
with  nature  whatever  consequences  might  ensue. 
But  in  almost  every  case,  after  stating  what  ap- 
peared to  be  the  truth  in  words  gathered  directly 
from  the  lips  of  Nature,  I  was  sooner  or  later 
startled  by  a  certain  similarity  in  the  general  idea 
to  something  I  had  heard  before,  and  this  often 
developed  in  a  moment,  and  when  I  was  least 
expecting  it,  into  recognition  of  some  familiar 
article  of  faith.  I  was  not  watching  for  this 
result.     I  did  not  begin  by  tabulating  the  doc- 


PREFACE.  13 

trines,  as  I  did  the  I.aws  of  Nature,  and  then 
proceed  with  the  attempt  to  pair  them.  The 
majority  of  them  seemed  at  first  too  far  removed 
froin  the  natural  world  even  to  suggest  this.  Still 
less  did  I  begin  with  doctrines  and  work  down- 
ward to  find  their  relations  in  the  natural  sphere. 
It  was  the  opj)Osite  process  entirely.  I  ran  up 
the  Natural  Law  as  far  as  it  would  go,  and  the 
appropriate  doctrine  seldom  even  loomed  in  sight 
till  I  had  reached  the  top.  Then  it  burst  into 
view  in  a  single  moment. 

I  can  scarcely  now  say  whether  in  those 
moments  I  was  more  overcome  Avith  thankfulness 
that  Nature  was  so  like  Revelation,  or  more  filled 
wi'Ai  wonder  that  Revelation  was  so  like  Nature. 
Nature,  it  is  true,  is  a  part  of  Revelation — a 
much  greater  part  doubtless  than  is  yet  believed — 
and  one  could  have  anticipated  nothing  but 
harmony  here.  But  that  a  derived  Theology,  in 
spite  of  the  venerable  verbiage  which  has  gathered 
round  it,  should  be  at  bottom  and  in  all  cardinal 
respects  so  faithful  a  transcript  of  "the  truth  as 
it  is  in  Nature"  came  as  a  surprise  and  to  me  at 
least  as  a  rebuke.  How,  under  the  rigid  necessity 
of  incorporating  in  its  system  much  that  seemed 
nearly  unintelligible,  and  much  that  was  barely 
credible.  Theology  has  succeeded  so  perfectly  in 
adhering  through  good  report  and  ill  to  what  in 
the  main  are  truly  the  lines  of  Nature,  awakens  : 
new  admiration  for  those  who  constructed  and 
kept  this  faith.  But  however  nobly  it  has  held 
its  ground,  Theology  must  feel  to-day  that  the 
modern  world  calls  for  a  further  proof.  Nor  will 
the  best  Theology  resent  this  demand;  it  also 
demands  it.  Theology  is  searching  on  every  hand 
for  another  echo  of  the  Voice  of  which  Revelation 
also  is  the  echo,  that  out  of  the  mouths  of  two 
witnesses  its  truths  should  be  established.  _  That 
other  echo  can  only  come  from  Nature,  Hitherto 
its  voice  has  been  muffled.  But  now  that  Science 
has  made  the  world  around  articulate,  it  speaks  to 
Religion  with  a  twofold  purpose.     In  the  first 


14  PREFACE. 

place  it  offers  to  corroborate  Theology,  in  the 
second  to  purify  it. 

If  the  removal  of  suspicion  from  Theology  is  of 
urgent  moment,  not  less  important  is  the  removal 
of  its  adulterations.  These  suspicions,  many  of 
them  at  least,  are  new;  in  a  sense  they  mark 
progress.  But  the  adulterations  are  the  artificial 
accumulations  of  centuries  of  uncontrolled  specu- 
lation. They  are  the  necessary  result  of  the  old 
method  and  the  warrant  for  its  revision — they 
mark  the  impossibility  of  progress  without  the 
guiding  and  restraining  hand  of  Law.  The  felt 
exhaustion  of  the  former  method,  the  want  of 
corroboration  for  the  old  evidence,  the  protest  of 
reason  against  the  monstrous  overgrowths  which 
conceal  the  real  lines  of  truth,  these  summon  us 
to  the  search  for  a  surer  and  more  scientific 
system.  With  truths  of  the  theological  order, 
with  dogmas  which  often  depend  for  their  exist-- 
ence  on  a  particular  exegesis,  with  propositions 
which  rest  for  their  evidence  upon  a  balance  of 
probabilities,  or  upon  the  weight  of  authority; 
with  doctrines  which  every  age  and  nation  may 
make  or  unmake,  which  each  sect  may  tamper 
with,  and  which  even  the  individual  may  modify 
for  himself,  a  second  court  of  appeal  has  become 
un  imperative  necessity. 

Science,  therefore,  may  yet  have  to  be  called 
npon  to  arbitrate  at  some  points  between  conflict- 
ing  creeds.  And  while  there  are  some  depart- 
ments of  Theology  where  its  jurisdiction  cannot 
be  sought,  there  are  others  in  which  Nature  may 
yet  have  to  define  the  contents  as  well  as  the 
limits  of  belief. 

What  I  would  desire  especially  is  a  thouglitful 
consideration  of  the  method.  The  applications 
ventured  upon  here  may  be  successful  or  unsuc- 
cessful. But  they  would  more  than  satisfy  me  if 
they  suggested  a  method  to  others  whose  less 
clumsy  hands  might  work  it  out  more  profitably. 
For  I  am  convinced  of  the  fertility  of  such  'a 
method  at  the  present  time.  It  is  recognized  by 
all  that  the  younger  and  abler  minds  of  this  age 


PKEFACE.  15 

6nd  the  most  serious  difficulty  in  accepting  or 
retaining  the  ordinary  forms  or  belief.  Especially 
is  this  true  of  those  whose  culture  is  scientific. 
And  the  reason  is  paljoable.  No  man  can  study 
modern  Science  without  a  change  coming  over 
his  view  of  truth.  What  impresses  him  about 
Nature  is  its  solidity.  He  is  there  standing  upon 
actual  things,  among  fixed  laws.  And  the  in- 
tegrity of  the  scientific  method  so  seizes  him  that 
all  other  forms  of  truth  l)egins  to  appear  compar- 
jitively  unstable.  He  did  not  know  before  thai 
any  form  of  truth  could  so  hold  him;  and  the 
immediate  effect  is  to  lessen  his  interest  in  all 
that  stands  on  other  bases.  This  he  feels  in  spite 
of  himself;  he  struggles  against  it  in  vain;  and 
lie  finds  perhaps  to  his  alarm  that  he  is  drifting 
fast  into  what  looks  at  first  like  pure  Positivism. 
This  is  an  inevitable  result  of  the  scientific  train- 
ing. It  is  quite  erroneous  to  suppose  that  science 
ever  ovei'tlirows  Faith,  if  by  that  is  implied  that 
any  natural  truth  can  oppose  successfully  any 
single  sjDiritual  truth.  Science  cannot  overthrow 
Faith;  but  it  shakes  it.  Its  own  doctrines, 
grounded  in  Nature,  are  so  certain,  that  the  truths 
of  Eeligion,  resting  to  most  men  on  Authority, 
are  felt  to  be  strangely  insecure.  The  difficulty, 
therefore,  which  men  of  Science  feel  about  Eelig- 
ion is  real  and  inevitable,  and  in  so  far  as  Doubt 
is  a  conscientious  tribute  to  the  inviolability  of 
Nature  it  is  entitled  to  resi^ect. 

None  but  those  who  have  passed  through  it  can 
appreciate  the  radical  nature  of  the  change 
wrought  by  Science  in  the  whole  mental  attitude 
cf  its  disciples.  AVhat  they  really  cry  out  for  in 
Religion  is  a  new  standpoint — a  standpoint  like 
their  own.  The  one  hope,  therefore,  for  Science 
is  more  vScience.  Agaiu,  to  quote  Bacon — we 
shall  heai  enough  from_  the  moderns  by-and-by — 
"This  I  dare  affirm  in  knowledge  of  Nature,  that 
a  little  natural  philosophy,  and  the  first  entrance 
into  it,  doth  dispose  the  opinion  to  atheism;  but, 
on  the  other  side,  much  natural  philosophy,  and 


16  PREFACE. 

wading  deep  into  it,  will  bring  about  men's  minda 
to  religion."* 

The  application  of  similia  similihus  curantnr 
was  never  more  in  point.  If  this  is  a  disease,  it 
is  the  disease  of  Nature,  and  the  cure  is  more 
Nature.  For  what  is  this  disquiet  in  the  breasts 
of  men  but  the  loyal  fear  that  Nature  is  being 
violated?  Men  must  oppose  with  every  energy 
they  possess  what  seems  to  them  to  oppose  the 
eternal  course  of  things.  And  the  first  step  in 
their  deliverance  must  be  not  to  "reconcile" 
Nature  and  Religion,  but  to  exhibit  Nature  in 
Religion.  Even  to  convince  them  that  there  is 
no  controversy  between  Religion  and  Science  is  in- 
sufficient. A  mere  flag  of  truce,  in  the  nature  of 
the  case,  is  here  impossible;  at  least,  it  is  only 
possible  so  long  as  neither  party  is  sincere.  No 
man  who  knows  the  splendor  of  scientific  achieve, 
ment  or  cares  for  it,  no  man  who  feels  the  solidity 
of  its  method  or  works  with  it,  can  remain  neutral 
with  regard  to  Religion.  He  must  either  extend 
his  method  into  it,  or,  if  that  is  imjiossible,  oppose 
it  to  the  knife.  On  the  other  hand,  no  one  who 
knows  the  content  of  Christianity,  or  feels  the 
universal  need  of  a  Religion,  can  stand  idly  by 
while  the  intellect  of  his  age  is  slowly  divorcing 
itself  from  it.  What  is  required,  therefore,  to 
draw  Science  and  Religion  together  again — for 
they  began  the  centuries  hand  in  hand — is  the 
disclosure  of  the  naturalness  of  the  supernatural. 
Then,  and  not  till  then,  will  men  see  how  true  it 
is,  that  to  be  loyal  to  all  of  Nature,  they  must  be 
loyal  to  the  part  defined  as  Spiritual.  No  science 
contributes  to  another  without  receiving  a  recip- 
rocal benefit.  And  even  as  the  contribution  of 
Science  to  Religion  is  the  vindication  of  the  natur- 
alness of  the  Supernatural,  so  the  gift  of  Religion 
to  Science  is  the  demonstration  of  the  supernatur- 
alness  of  the  Natural.  Thus,  as  the  Supernatural 
becomes  slowly  Natural,  will  also  the  Natural 
become  slowly  Supernatural,  until  in  the  imper- 

*  "Meditatione6  Sacrae,'  x. 


PREFACE.  17 

sonal  authority  of  Law  men  everywhere  recognize 
the  Autliority  of  God. 

To  those  who  ah-eady  find  themselves  fully 
nourished  on  the  older  forms  of  truth,  I  do  not 
commend  these  pages.  They  will  find  them 
superfluous.  Nor  is  there  any  reason  why  they 
should  mingle  with  light  which  is  already  clear 
the  distorting  rays  of  a  foreign  expression. 

But  to  those  who  are  feeling  their  way  to  a 
Christian  life,  hauuted  now  by  a  sense  of  insta- 
bility in  the  foundation  of  their  faith,  now 
brought  to  bay  by  sj^ecific  doubt  at  one  point 
raising,  as  all  doubt  does,  the  question  for  the 
whole,  I  would  hold  uj)  a  light  which  has  often 
been  kind  to  me.  There  is  a  sense  of  solidity 
about  a  Law  of  Nature  which  belongs  to  nothing 
else  in  the  world.  Here,  at  last,  araid  all  that  is 
ghifting,  is  one  thing  sure;  one  thing  outside 
ourselves,  unbiased,  unprejudiced,  uninfluenced 
by  like  or  dislike,  by  doubt  or  fear;  one  thing 
that  holds  on  its  way  to  me  eternally,  incor- 
ruptible, and  undefiled.  This  more  than  any- 
thing else,  makes  one  eager  to  see  the  Reign  of 
Law  traced  in  the  Spiritual  Sphere.  And  should 
this  seem  to  some  to  ofi'er  only  a  surer,  but  not  a 
higher  Faith;  shouid  the  better  ordering  of  the 
Spiritual  World  appear  to  satisfy  the  intellect  at 
the  sacrifice  of  revemnce,  simplicity,  or  love; 
especially  should  it  seem  to  substitute  a  Reign  of 
Law  and  a  Lawgiver  for  a  Kingdom  of  Grace  and 
a  Personal  God,  I  will  say,  with  Browning, — 

"I  spoke  as  I  saw. 
J  report,  as  a  man  may  of  God's  work — alVs  love,  yet  all's 

Law. 
Now  I  lay  down  the  judgeship  He  lent  me.     Each  faculty 

tasked. 
To  pe-cei^e  Him,  has  gained  an  abyss  where  a  dewdrop 

was  g,'?ke<^." 


ANALYSIS  OF  INTRODUCTION. 


[For  the  sake  of  the  general  reader  who  may  desire  to  pass  at  once 
to  the  practical  applications,  the  following  outline  of  the  Introduc- 
tion— devoted  rather  to  general  principles — is  here  presented.] 

PART  I. 
Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  Sphere. 

1.  The  ,e;rowth  of  the  Idea  of  Law. 

2.  Its  gradual  extension  throughout  every  department  of 

Knowledge. 

3.  Except  one.     Religion  hitherto  the   Great  Exception. 

Wliy  so? 

4.  Previous  attempts  to  trace  analogies  between  the  Nat- 

ural and  Spiritual  spheres.  These  have  been  limited 
to  analogies  between  Phenomeny;  and  are  useful 
mainly  as  illustrations.  Analogies  of  Law  would 
also  have  a  Scientific  value. 

5.  Wherein  that  value  would  consist.     (1)  The  Scientific 

demand  of  the  age  would  be  met;  (3j  Greater  clearness 
would  be  introduced  into  Religion  practically;  (8) 
Theology,  instead  of  resting  on  Authority,  would 
rest  equally  on  Nature. 


PART  II. 

The  Law  op  Continuity. 
A  priori  argument  for  Natural  Law  in  the  spiritual  wofid. 

1.  The  Law  Discovered. 

2.  "        Defined. 

3.  "        Applied. 
The  objection  answered  that  the  material  of  the  Natural 

and  Spiritual  worlds  being  different  they  must  be 

under  different  Laws. 
The  existence  of  Laws  in  the  Spiritual  world  other  than 

the  Natural  Laws(l)  improbable,  (2)  unnecessary,  (3) 

imknown.     Qualification. 
The  Spiritual  not  the  projection  upward  of  the  Natural; 

but  the  Natural  the  projection  downward  of  the 

Spiritual. 

[19] 


4 


INTRODUCTIOK. 

"This  method  turns  aside  from  hypotheses  not  to  be  tested  by  any 
known  logical  canon  familiar  to  science,  whether  the  hypothesis 
claims  support  from  intuition,  aspiration  or  general  plausibility. 
And,  again,  this  method  turns  aside  from  ideal  standards  vhich 
avow  themselves  to  be  lawless,  which  profess  to  transcend  the  fieltl 
of  law.  We  say,  life  and  conduct  shall  stand  for  us  wholly  on  a 
basis  of  law,  and  must  rest  entirely  in  that  region  of  science  (not 
physical,  but  moral  and  social  science),  where  we  are  free  to  use  our 
intelligence  in  the  methods  known  to  us  as  intelligible  logic,  methods 
which  the  intellect  can  analyze.  When  you  confront  us  with 
hypotheses,  however  sublime  and  however  affecting,  if  they  cannot 
be  stated  in  terms  of  the  rest  of  our  knowledge,  if  they  are  disparate 
to  that  world  of  sequence  and  sensation  which  to  us  is  the  ultimate 
base  of  all  our  real  knowledge,  then  we  shake  our  heads  and  turn 
aside.''''— I'rederick  Harrison. 

"  Ethical  science  is  already  forever  completed,  so  far  as  her  genera' 
outline  and  main  principles  are  concerned,  and  has  been,  as  it  were, 
waiting  for  physical  science  to  come  up  with  her." — Paradoxical 
Philosophy. 

PART  I. 

Natural  Law  is  a  new  word.  It  is  the  last 
and  the  most  magnificent  discovery  of  science. 
No  more  telling  proof  is  oj^en  to  the  modern 
world  of  the  greatness  of  the  idea  than  the  great- 
ness of  the  attempts  which  have  alwaj^s  been 
made  to  justify  it.  In  the  earlier  centuries, 
before  the  birth  of  science,  Phenomena  were 
studied  alone.  The  world  then  was  a  chaos,  a 
collection  of  single,  isolated,  and  independent 
facts.  Deeper  thinkers  saw,  indeed,  that  relations 
must  subsist  between  tliese  facts,  but  the  Reign 
of  Law  was  never  more  to  the  ancients  than  a  far- 
off  vision.  Their  philosophies,  conspicuously 
those  of  the  Stoics  and  Pythagoreans,  heroically 
sought  to  marshal  the  discrete  materials  of  the 
universe  into  thinkable  form,  but  from  these 
artificial  and  fantastic  systems  nothing  remains 
to    us    now   but    an    ancient    testimony   to    the 

[21] 


23  INTKODUCTIOK. 

grandeiir  of  that  harmony  which  they  failed  to 
reach. 

With  Copernicus,  Galileo,  and  Kepler  tlie 
first  regular  lines  of  the  universe  began  to  1  e 
discerned.  When  Nature  yielded  to  Newton  h  -r 
great  secret,  Gravitation  was  felt  to  be  not  greater 
as  a  fact  in  itself  than  as  a  revelation  that  Law 
was  fact.  And  thenceforth  the  search  for  in- 
dividual Phenomena  gave  way  before  the  larger 
study  of  their  relations.  The  jjursuit  of  Law 
became  the  passion  of  science. 

What  that  discovery  of  Law  has  done  for 
Nature,  it  is  impossible  to  estimate.  As  a  mere 
spectacle  the  universe  to-day  discloses  a  beauty  so 
transcendent  that  he  who  disciplines  himself  by 
scientific  work  finds  it  air  overwhelming  reward 
simply  to  behold  it.  In  these  Laws  one  stands 
face  to  face  with  truth,  solid  and  unchangeable. 
Each  single  Law  is  an  instrument  of  scientific 
research,  simple  in  its  adjustments,  universal  in 
its  application,  infallible  in  its  results.  And 
despite  the  limitations  of  its  sphere  on  every  side 
Law  is  still  the  largest,  richest,  and  surest  source 
of  human  knowledge. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  the  present  to  more  than 
lightly  touch  on  definitions  of  Natural  Law. 
The  Duke  of  Argyll*  indicates  five  senses  in  which 
the  word  is  used,  but  we  may  content  ourselves 
here  by  taking  it  in  its  most  simple  and  obvious 
significance.  The  fundamental  concejDtion  of 
Law  is  an  ascertained  working  sequence  or  con- 
stant order  among  the  Phenomena  of  Nature. 
This  impression  of  Law  as  order  it  is  important 
to  receive  in  its  simplicity,  for  the  idea  is  often 
corrupted  by  having  attached .  to  it  erroneous 
views  of  cause  and  effect.  In  its  true  sense 
Natural  Law  predicates  nothing  of  causes.  The 
Laws  of  Nature  are  simply  statements  of  the 
orderly  condition  of  things  in  Nature,  what  is 
found  in  Nature  by  a  sufficient  number  of  com- 
petent observers.     What  these  Laws  are  in  them- 

*  "Keign  of  Law,"  chap.  ii. 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

selves  is  not  agreed.  That  they  have  any  absolute 
existence  even  is  far  from  certain.  They  are 
relative  to  man  in  his  many  limitations,  and 
represent  for  him  the  constant  expression  of 
what  he  may  always  expect  to  find  in  the  world 
around  him.  But  that  they  have  any  causal 
connection  with  the  things  around  him  is  not  to 
be  conceived.  The  Natural  Laws  originate  noth- 
ing, sustain  nothing;  they  are  merely  responsible 
for  uniformity  in  sustaining  what  has  been  origi- 
nated and  what  is  being  sustained.  They  are 
modes  of  operation,  therefore,  not  operators; 
processes,  not  powers.  The  Law  of  Gravitation, 
for  instance,  speaks  to  science  only  of  process. 
It  has  no  light  to  offer  as  to  itself.  Newton  did 
not  discover  Gravity — that  is  not  discovered  yet. 
He  discovered  its  Law,  which  is  Gravitation,  but 
tells  us  nothing  of  its  origin,  of  its  nature  or  of 
its  cause. 

The  Natural  Laws  then  are  great  lines  running 
not  only  through  the  world,  but,  as  we  now  know, 
through  the  universe,  reducing  it  like  parallels  of 
latitude  to  intelligent  order.  In  themselves,  be 
it  once  more  repeated,  they  may  have  no  more 
absolute  existence  than  parallels  of  latitude.  But 
they  exist  for  us.  They  are  drawn  for  us  to  under- 
stand the  part  by  some  Hand  that  drew  the  whole; 
so  drawn,  perhaps,  that,  understanding  the  part, 
we  too  in  time  may  learn  to  understand  the  whole. 
Now  the  inquiry  we  propose  to  ourselves  resolves 
itself  into  the  simple  question,  Do  these  lines  stop 
with  what  we  call  the  Natural  sphere?  Is  it  not 
possible  that  they  may  lead  further?  Is  it  prob- 
able that  the  Hand  which  ruled  them  gave  up  the 
work  where  most  of  all  they  were  required?  Did 
that  Hand  divide  the  world  into  two,  a  cosmos 
and  a  chaos,  the  higher  being  the  chaos?  With 
Nature  as  the  symbol  of  all  of  harmony  and  beauty 
that  is  known  to  man,  must  we  still  talk  of  the 
super-natural,  not  as  a  convenient  word,  but  as  a 
different  order  of  world,  all  unintelligible  world, 
where  the  Eeign  of  Mystery  supersedes  the  Reign 
of  Law? 


M  INTKODUCTION. 

This  question,  let  it  be  carefully  observed, 
applies  to  Laws  not  to  Phenomena.  That  the 
Phenomena  of  the  Spiritual  World  are  in  analogy 
with  the  Phenomena  of  the  Natural  World  requires 
no  restatement.  Since  Plato  enunciated  his  doc- 
trine of  the  Cave  or  of  the  twice-divided  line; 
since  Christ  spake  in  parables;  since  Plotinus 
wrote  of  the  world  as  an  image;  since  the  mysti- 
cism of  Swedenborg;  since  Bacon  and  Pascal; 
since  "Sartor  Eesartus"  and  "In  Memoriam,"  it 
has  been  all  but  a  commonplace  with  thinkers 
that  "the  invisible  things  of  God  from  the  creation 
of  the  world  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by 
the  things  that  are  made."     Milton's  question — 

"What  if  earth 
Be  brit  the  shadow  of  heaven,  and  things  therein 
Each  to  other  like  more  than  on  earth  is  thought?" 

is  now  superfluous.  "  In  our  doctrine  of  repre- 
sentations and  correspondences/'  says  Sweden- 
borg, "we  shall  treat  of  both  these  symbolical  and 
typical  resemblances,  and  of  the  astonishing  things 
that  occur,  I  will  not  say  in  the  living  body  only, 
but  throughout  Nature,  and  which  correspond  so 
entirely  to  supreme  and  sj)iritual  things,  that  one 
would  swear  that  the  physical  world  was  purely 
symbolical  of  the  spiritual  world."*  And  Carl3de: 
"All  visible  things  are  emblems.  AVliat  thou  seest 
is  not  there  oh  its  own  account ;  strictly  speaking 
is  not  there  at  all.  Matter  exists  only  spiritually, 
and  to  represent  some  idea  and  body  it  forth,  "f 
But  the  analogies  of  Law  are  a  totally  different 
thing  from  the  analogies  of  Phenomena  and  have 
a  very  different  value.  To  say  generally,  with 
Pascal,  that  "La  nature  est  une  image  de  la 
grace,"  is  merely  to  be  poetical.  The  function  of 
Hervey's  "Meditations  in  a  Flower  Garden,"  or, 
Flavel's  "Husbandry  Spiritualized,"  is  mainly 
homiletical.  That  such  works  have  an  interest  is 
not  to  be  denied.     The  place  of  parable  in  teacli- 

*  "Animal  Kingdom."       +  "Sartor  Eesartus,"  1858  ed.,  p.  43. 


INTIIODUCTION.  ^0 

ing,  and  especially  after  the  sanction  of  the  great- 
est of  Teachers,  must  always  be  recognized.  The 
very  necessities  of  language  indeed  demand  this 
method  of  presenting  truth.  The  temporal  is  the 
husk  and  framework  of  the  eternal,  and  thoughts 
can  be  uttered  only  through  things.* 

But  analogies  between  Phenomena  bear  the  same 
relation  to  analogies  of  Law  that  Phenomena 
themselves  bear  to  Law.  The  light  of  Law  on 
truth,  as  we  have  seen,  is  an  immense  advance  up- 
on the  light  of  Phenomena.  The  discovery  of 
Law  is  simply  the  discovery  of  Science.  And  if 
the  analogies  of  Natural  Law  can  be  extended  to 
the  Spiritual  World,  that  whole  region  at  once 
falls  within  the  domain  of  science  and  secures  a 
basis  as  well  as  an  illumination  in  the  constitution 
and  course  of  Nature.  All,  therefore,  that  has 
been  claimed  for  parable  can  be  predicated  a  for- 
tiori of  this — with  the  addition  that  a  proof  on 
the  basis  of  Law  would  want  no  criterion  possess- 
ed by  the  most  advanced  science. 

That  the  validity  of  analogy  generally  has  been 
seriously  questioned  one  must  frankly  own. 
Doubtless  there  is  much  difficulty  and  even  liabil- 
ity to  gross  error  in  attempting  to  establish  anal- 
ogy in" specific  cases.  The  value  of  the  likeness 
appears  differently  to  different  minds,  and  in  dis- 
cussing an  individual  instance  questions  of  rele- 
vancy will  invariably  crop  up.  Of  course,  in  the 
language  of  John  Stuart  Mill,  "when  the  analogy 
can  be  proved,  the  argument  founded  upon  it  can- 

*  Even  parable,  however,  has  always  been  considered  to  have 
attached  to  it  a  measure  of  evidential  as  well  as  of  illustrative  value, 
liius:  "The  parable  or'other  analogy  to  spiritual  truth  appropriated 
from  the  world  of  nature  or  man,  is  not  merely  illustrative,  but  also 
in  some  sort  proof.  It  is  not  merely  that  these  analogies  assist  to 
make  the  truth  intelligible  or,  if  intelligible  before,  present  it  more 
vividly  to  the  mind,  which  is  all  that  some  will  allow  them.  Their 
power  lies  deeper  than  this,  in  the  harmony  unconsciously  felt  by  all 
men,  and  which  all  deeper  minds  have  delighted  to  trace,  between 
the  natural  and  spiritual  worlds,  so  that  analogies  from  the  first  are 
felt  to  be  something  more  than  illustrations  happily  but  yet  arbitra- 
rily chosen.  They  are  arguments,  and  may  be  alleged  as  witnesses : 
the  world  of  nature  being  throughout  a  witness  for  the  world  of 
spirit,  proceeding  from  the  same  hand,  growing  nut  of  the  same  root, 
and  being  constituted  for  that  very  end.' —(Archbishop  Trerch' 
"Parables,"  pp.  1.2,  13.) 


26  INTRODUCTION. 

not  be  resisted."*  But  so  great  is  the  difficulty 
of  proof  that  many  are  compelled  to  attach  the 
most  inferior  weight  to  analogy  as  a  method  of 
reasoning.  "Analogical  evidence  is  generally 
more  successful  in  silencing  objections  than  in 
evincing  truth.  Though  it  rarely  refutes  it  fre- 
quently repels  refutation;  like  those  weapons 
which  though  they  cannot  kill  the  enemy,  will 
ward  his  blows.  ...  It  must  be  allowed  that 
analogical  evidence  is  at  least  but  a  feeble  support, 
si,nd  is  hardly  ever  honored  with  the  name  of 
proof,  "f  Other  authorities  on  the  other  hand, 
such  as  Sir  William  Hamilton,  admit  analogy  to  a 
primary  place  in  logic  and  regard  it  as  the  very 
basis  of  induction. 

But,  fortunately,  we  are  spared  all  discussion 
on  this  worn  subject,  for  two  cogent  reasons. 
For  one  thing,  we  do  not  demand  of  Nature  direct- 
ly to  prove  Religion.  That  was  never  its  function. 
Its  function  is  to  interpret.  And  this,  after  all,  is 
possibly  the  most  fruitful  proof.  The  best  proof 
of  a  thing  is  that  we  see  it;  if  we  do  not  see  it, 
perhaps  proof  will  not  convince  us  of  it.  It  is 
the  want  of  the  discerning  faculty,  the  clairvoyant 
power  of  seeing  the  eternal  in  the  temporal,  rather 
than  the  failure  of  the  reason,  that  begets  the 
sceptic.  But  secondly,  and  more  particularly,  a 
significant  circumstance  has  to  be  taken  into 
account,  which,  though  it  will  appear  more  clear- 
ly afterward,  may  be  stated  here  at  once.  The 
position  we  have  been  led  to  take  up  is  not  that 
the  Spiritual  Laws  are  analogous  to  the  Natural 
Laws,  but  that  they  are  the  same  Laws.  It  is  not 
a  question  of  analogy  but  of  Identity.  The  Nat- 
ural Laws  are  not  the  shadows  or  images  of  the 
Spiritual  in  the  same  sense  as  autumn  is  emblema- 
tical of  Decay,  or  the  falling  leaf  of  Death.  The 
Natural  Laws,  as  the  Law  of  Continuity  might 
well  warn  us,  do  not  stop  with  the  visible  and 
then  give  place  to  a  new  set  of  Laws  bearing  a 
strong  similitude  to  them.     The  Laws  of  the  in- 

*  Miirs  "Logic,"  vol.  ii.  p.  96 

t  Campbell's  "Rhetoric,"  vol.  i.  p.  114. 


TNTKODrCTIO^'.  27 

visible  are  tlie  same  Laws,  projections  of  the  nat- 
iiral  not  supernatural.  Analogous  Phenomena  are 
not  the  fruit  of  parallel  Laws,  but  of  the  same 
Laws — Laws  which  at  one  end,  as  it  were,  may  be 
dealing  with  Matter,  at  the  other  end  with  Spirit. 
As  there  will  be  some  inconvenience,  however,  in 
dispensing  witb  the  word  analogy,  we  shall  con- 
tinue  occasionally  to  employ  it.  Those  who  ap- 
prehend the  real  "relation  will  mentally  substitute 
the  larger  term. 

Let  us  now  look  for  a  moment  at  the  presen': 
state  of  the  question.  Can  it  be  said  that  the 
Laws  of  the  Spiritual  AVorld  are  in  any  sense  con- 
sidered even  to  have  analogies  with  the  Natural 
World?  Here  and  there  certainly  one  finds  an 
attempt,  and  a  successful  attempt,  to  exhibit  on  a 
rational  basis  one  or  two  of  the  great  Moral  Prin- 
ciples of  the  Spiritual  World.  But  the  Physical 
World  has  not  been  appealed  to.  Its  magnificent 
system  of  Laws  remains  outside,  and  its  contribu- 
tion meanwhile  is  either  silently  ignored  or  pur- 
posely set  aside.  The  Physical,  it  is  said,  is  too 
remote  from  the  Spiritual.  The  Moral  World 
may  afEord  a  basis  for  religious  truth,  but  even 
this  is  often  the  baldest  concession;  while  the  ap- 
peal to  the  Physical  universe  is  everywhere  dis- 
missed as,  on  the  face  of  it,  irrelevant  and  un- 
fruitful. From  the  scientific  side,  again,  nothing 
has  been  done  to  court  a  closer  fellowship. 
Science  has  taken  theology  at  its  own  estimate. 
It  is  a  thing  apart.  The  Spiritual  World  is  not 
only  a  different  world,  but  a  different  kind  of 
world,  a  world  arranged  on  a  totally  different 
principle,  under  a  different  governmental  scheme. 

The  Eeign  of  Law  has  gradually  crept  into 
every  department  of  Nature,  transforming  knowl- 
edge everywhere  into  Science.  The  process  goes 
on,  and  Nature  slowly  appears  to  us  as  one  great 
unity,  until  the  borders  of  the  Spiritual  World 
are  reached.  There  the  Law  of  Continuity  ceases, 
and  the  harmony  breaks  down.  And  men  who 
have  learned  their  elementary  lessons  truly  from 
the  alphabet  of  the  lower  Laws,  going  on  to  seek  & 


28  TNTKODUCTION". 

higher  knowledge,  are  suddenly  confronted  with 
the  Great  Exception. 

Even  those  who  have  examined  most  caref'jlly 
the  relations  of  the  Natural  and  the  Spiritual, 
seem  to  have  committed  themselves  deliberately 
to  a  final  separation  in  matters  of  Law.  It  is  a 
surprise  to  find  such  a  writer  as  Horace  Bushnell, 
for  instance,  describing  the  Si^iritual  World  as 
"  another  system  of  nature  incommunicably  separ- 
ate from  ours,"  and  further  defining  it  thus:  "  God 
has,  in  fact,  erected  another  and  higher  system, 
that  of  sjoiritual  being  and  government  for  which 
nature  exists;  a  system  not  under  the  law  of  cause 
and  effect,  but  ruled  and  marshaled  under  other 
kinds  of  laws."*  Few  men  have  shown  more  in- 
sight than  Bushnell  in  illustrating  Spiritual  truth 
from  the  Natural  World;  but  he  has  not  only 
failed  to  perceive  the  analogy  with  regard  to  Law, 
but  emphatically  denies  it. 

In  the  recent  literature  of  this  whole  region 
there  nowhere  seems  any  advance  upon  the  po- 
sition of  "  Nature  and  the  Supernatural."  All  are 
agreed  in  speaking  of  Nature  and  the  Supernat- 
ural. Nature  in  the  Supernatural,  so  far  as  Laws 
are  concerned,  is  still  an  unknown  truth. 

"  The  Scientific  Basis  of  Faith  "  is  a  suggestive 
title.  The  accomplished  author  announces  that 
the  object  of  his  investigation  is  to  show  that  "  the 
workl  of  nature  and  mind,  as  made  known  by 
science,  constitute  a  basis  and  a  preparation  for 
that  highest  moral  and  spiritual  life  of  man,  which 
is  evoked  by  the  self-revelation  of  God."f  On 
the  whole,  Mr.  jVIurphy  seems  to  be  more  philo- 
sophiciil  and  more  profound  in  his  view  of  the  re- 
lation of  science  and  religion  than  any  writer  of 
modern  times.  His  conception  of  religion  is  broad 
and  lofty,  his  acquaintance  with  science  adequate. 
He  makes  constant,  admirable,  and  often  orig- 
inal use  of  analogy;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  the  prom- 
ise of  this  quotation,  he  has  failed  to  find  any  anal- 
ogy in  that  department  of  Law  where  surely,  of  all 

*  "Nature  and  the  Supernatural,"  p.  19. 
+  "The  Scientific  Basis  of  Faith."    By  J.  J.  Murphy,  p.  466. 


IXTRODL'CTIOK.  89 

others,  it  might  most  reasonably  be  looked  for. 
In  the  broad  subject  even  of  the  analogies  of  what 
he  defines  as  ^  evangelical  religion  "  with  Nature, 
Mr.  Murphy  discovers  nothing.  Nor  can  this  be 
traced  either  to  short-sight  or  over-sight.  The 
subject  occurs  to  him  more  than  once,  and  he  de- 
liberately dismisses  it — dismisses  it  not  merely  as 
unfruitful,  but  with  a  distinct  denial  of  its  rele- 
vancy. The  memorable  paragraph  from  Origen 
which  forms  the  text  of  Butler's  "Analogy,"  he 
calls  "  this  shallow  and  false  saying."*  He  sa3-s: 
"  The  designation  of  Butler's  scheme  of  religious 
philosophy  ought  then  to  be  the  analogy  of  relig- 
ion, legal  and  evangelical,  to  the  constitution  of 
nature.  But  does  this  give  altogether  a  true  mean- 
ing? Does  this  double  analegy  really  exist?  If 
justice  is  natural  law  among  beings  having  a  moral 
nature,  there  is  the  closest  analogy  between  the 
constitution  of  nature  and  merely  legal  religion. 
Legal  religion  is  only  the  extension  of  natural  jus- 
tice into  a  future  life.  .  .  .  But  is  this  true 
of  evangelical  religion?  Have  the  doctrines  of 
Divine  grace  any  similar  support  in  the  analogies 
of  nature?  I  trow  not."f  And  with  reference 
to  a  specific  question,  speaking  of  immortality, 
he  asserts  that  ''the  analogies  of  mers  nature  are 
opposed  to  the  doctrine  of  immortality. "J 

With  regard  to  Butler's  great  work  in  this  de- 
partment, it  is  needless  at  this  time  of  day  to  point 
out  that  his  aims  did  not  lie  exactly  in  this  direc- 
tion. He  did  not  seek  to  indicate  analogies  he- 
tioeen  religion  and  the  constitution  and  course  of 
Nature.  His  theme  was,  "The  Analogy  0/ Re- 
ligion to  the  constitution  and  course  of  Nature." 
And  although  he  pointed  out  direct  analogies  of 
Phenomena,  such  as  those  between  the  metamor- 
phoses of  insects  and  the  doctrine  of  a  future  state; 
and  although  he  showed  that  "the  natural  and 
moral  constitution  and  government  of  the  world 
are  so  connected  as  to  make  up  together  but  one 
scheme,"!  his  real  intention  was  not  so  much  to 

*Op.  cit..  D.  333.    r  lUd.,  p.  3:%  \  Jbid.,  p.  331.   I  "Analogy,"  chap.  vii. 


3U  INTRODUCTIOX. 

construct  arguments  as  to  repel  objections.  His 
emphasis  accordingly  was  laid  upon  the  ditlicnlties 
of  the  two  schemes  rather  than  on  their  positive 
lines;  and  so  thoroughly  has  he  made  out  this 
point  that  as  is  well  known,  the  effect  upon  many 
has  been,  not  to  lead  them  to  accept  the  Sjiiritual 
World  on  the  ground  of  the  Natural,  but  to  make 
them  despair  of  both.  Butler  lived  at  a  time  when 
defonce  was  more  necessary  than  construction, 
when  the  materials  for  construction  were  scarce 
and  insecure,  and  when,  besides,  some  of  the 
things  to  be  defended  were  quite  incapable  of  de- 
fence, Notwithstanding  this,  his  influence  over 
the  whole  field  since  has  been  unparalleled. 

After  all,  then,  the  Spiritual  World,  as  it  ap- 
pears at  this  moment,  is  outside  Natural  Law. 
Theology  continues  to  be  considered,  as  it  has 
always  been,  a  thing  apart.  It  remains  still  a  stu- 
pendous and  splendid  construction,  but  on  lines 
altogether  its  own.  Nor  is  Theology  to  be  blamed 
for  this.  Nature  has  been  long  in  speaking;  even 
yet  its  voice  is  low,  sometimes  inaudible.  Science 
is  the  true  defaulter,  for  Theology  had  to  w^ait 
patiently  for  its  development.  As  the  highest  of 
the  sciences.  Theology  in  the  order  of  evolution 
should  be  the  last  to  fall  into  rank.  It  is  reserved 
for  it  to  perfect  the  final  harmony.  Still,  if  it 
continues  longer  to  remain  a  thing  apart,  Avith  in- 
creasing reason  will  be  such  protests  as  this  of  the 
"  Unseen  Universe,"  when,  in  speaking  of  a  view 
of  miracles  held  by  an  older  Theology,  it  dec^lares: 
— "  If  he  submits  to  be  guided  by  such  interpret- 
ers, each  intelligent  being  will  forever  continue 
to  be  baffled  in  any  attempt  to  explain  these  phe- 
nomena, because  they  are  said  to  have  no  physical 
relation  to  anything  that  went  before  or  that  fol- 
lowed after;  in  fine,  they  are  made  to  form  a  uni- 
verse within  a  universe,  a  portion  cut  off  by  an  in- 
surmountable barrier  from  the  domain  of  scientific 
inqiiiry."* 
This  is  the  secret  of  the  present  decadence  of 

*  "Unseen  Universe,"  6th  ed.,  pp.  89,  90. 


IXTKODLCTION.  31 

Religion  in  the  world  of  Science.  For  Science  can 
hear  nothing  of  a  Great  Exception.  Constructions 
on  unique  lines,  "portions  cut  off  by  an  insur- 
mountable barrier  from  the  domain  of  scientific 
inquiry/'  it  dare  not  recognize.  Nature  has 
taught  it  this  lesson,  and  Nature  is  right.  It  is 
the  province  of  Science  to  vindicate  Nature  here 
at  any  hazard.  But  in  blaming  Theology  for  its 
intolerance,  it  has  been  betrayed  into  an  intoler- 
ance less  excusable.  It  has  pronounced  upon  it 
too  soon.  What  if  Religion  be  yet  brought  within 
the  sphere  of  Law?  Law  is  the  revelation  of  time. 
One  by  one  slowly  through  the  centuries  the 
Sciences  have  crystalized  into  geometrical  form, 
each  form  not  only  perfect  in  itself,  b  the  perfect 
its  relation  to  all  other  forms.  Many  forms  had 
to  be  perfected  before  the  form  of  the  Spiritual. 
The  Inorganic  has  to  be  worked  out  before  the 
Organic,  the  Natural  before  the  Spiritual.  The- 
ology at  present  has  merely  an  ancient  and  pro- 
visional philosophic  form.  •  By-and-by  it  will  be 
seen  whether  it  be  not  susceptible  of  another. 
For  Theology  must  pass  through  the  necessary 
stages  of  progress,  like  any  other  science.  The 
method  of  science-making  is  now  fully  established. 
In  almost  all  cases  the  natural  history  and  devel- 
opment are  the  same.  Take,  for  example,  the 
case  of  Geology.  A  century  ago  there  was  none. 
Science  went  out  to  look  for  it,  and  brought  back 
a  Geology  which,  if  Nature  were  a  harmony,  had 
falsehood  written  almost  on  its  face.  It  was  the 
Geology  of  Catasirophism,  a  Geology  so  out  of  line 
with  Nature  as  revealed  by  the  other  sciences,  that 
on  a  priori  grounds  a  thoughtful  mind  might 
have  been  justified  in  dismissing  it  as  a  final  form 
of  any  science.  And  its  fallacy  was  soon  and 
thoroughly  exposed.  The  advent  of  modified  uni- 
formitarian  principles  all  but  banished  the  wox'd 
catastrophe  from  science,  and  marked  the  birth  of 
Geology  as  we  know  it  now.  Geology,  that  is  to 
-say,  had  fallen  at  last  into  the  great  scheme  of 
Law.  Religious  doctrines,  many  of  them  at  least, 
have  been  up  to  this  time  all  but  as  calastroj)hie 


33  INTRODUCTION. 

as  the  old  Geology.  They  are  not  on  the  lines  of 
Nature  as  we  have  learned  to  decipher  her.  it 
any  one  feel,  as  Science  complains  that  it  feels, 
that  the  lie  of  things  in  the  Spiritual  World  as 
arranged  by  Theology  is  not  in  harmony  with  the 
world  around,  is  not,  in  short,  scientific,  he  is  en- 
titled to  raise  the  question  whether  this  he  really 
the  final  form  of  those  departments  of  Theology 
to  which  his  complaint  refers.  He  is  justified, 
moreover,  in  demanding  a  new  investigation  with 
all  modern  methods  and  resources;  and  Science  is 
bound  by  its  principles  not  less  than  by  the  lessons 
of  its  own  past,  to  suspend  judgment  till  the  last 
attempt  is  made.  The  success  of  such  an  attempt 
will  be  looked  forward  to  with  hopefulness  or  fear- 
fulness  just  in  proportion  to  one's  confidence  in 
Nature — in  proportion  to  one's  belief  in  the  di- 
vinity of  man  and  in  the  divinity  of  things.  If 
there  is  any  truth  in  the  unity  of  Nature,  in  that 
supreme  principle  of  Continuity  which  is  growing 
in  splendor  with  eveiy  discovery  of  science,  the 
conclusion  is  foregone.  If  there  is  any  foundation 
for  Theology,  if  the  phenomena  of  the  Spiritual 
World  are  real,  in  the  nature  of  things  they  ought 
to  come  into  the  sphere  of  Law.  Such  is  at  once 
the  demand  of  Science  upon  Religion  and  the 
prophecy  that  it  can  and  shall  be  fulfilled. 

The  Botany  of  Linnasus,  a  purely  artificial  sys- 
tem, was  a  splendid  contribution  to  human  knowl- 
edgCj  and  did  more  in  its  day  to  enlarge  the  view 
of  the  vegetable  kingdom  than  all  that  had  gone 
before.  But  all  artificial  systems  must  pass  away. 
None  knew  better  than  the  great  Swedish  naturalist 
himself  that  his  system,  being  artificial,  was  but 
provisional.  Nature  must  be  read  in  its  own  light. 
And  as  the  botanical  field  became  more  luminous, 
the  system  of  Jussieu  and  De  Candolle  slowly 
emerged  as  a  native  growth,  unfolded  itself  as  nat- 
urally as  the  petals  of  one  of  its  own  flowers,  and 
forcing  itself  upon  men's  intelligence  as  the  very 
voice  of  Nature,  banished  the  Linnaan  system  for- 
ever. It  were  unjust  to  say  that  the  present  The- 
ology is  as  artificial  as  the  system  of  Linnajus;  in 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

many  particulars  it  wants  but  a  fresh  expression 
to  make  it  in  the  most  modern  sense  seientific. 
But  if  it  has  a  basis  in  the  constitution  and  course 
of  Nature,  that  basis  has  never  been  adequately 
shown.  It  has  depended  on  Authority  rather  than 
on  Law;  and  a  new  basis  mast  be  sought  and 
found  if  it  is  to  be  presented  to  those  with  whom 
Law  alone  is  Authority. 

It  is  not  of  course  to  be  inferred  that  the  scien- 
tific method  will  ever  abolish  the  radical  distinc- 
tions of  the  Spiritual  AVorld.  True  science  pro- 
poses to  itself  no  such  general  leveling  in  any  de- 
partment. Within  the  unity  of  the  whole  there 
must  always  be  room  for  the  characteristic  differ- 
ences of  the  parts,  and  those  tendencies  of  thought 
at  the  present  time  which  ignore  such  distinctions, 
in  their  zeal  for  simplicity  really  create  confusion. 
As  has  been  well  said  by  Mr.  Hutton  :  "  Any  at- 
tempt to  merge  the  distinctive  characteristic  of  a 
higher  science  in  a  lower — of  chemical  changes  in 
mechanical — of  physiological  in  chemical— above 
all,  of  mental  changes  in  physiological — is  a  neglect 
of  the  radical  assumption  of  all  science,  because  it 
is  an  attempt  to  deduce  representations — or  rather 
misrepresentations — of  one  kind  of  phenomena 
from  a  conception  of  another  kind  which  does  not 
contain  it,  and  must  have  it  implicitly  and  illicitly 
smuggled  in  before  it  can  be  extracted  out  of  it. 
Hsnce,  instead  of  increasing  our  means  of  repre- 
senting the  universe  to  ourselves  without  the  de- 
tailed examination  of  particulars,  such  a  procedure 
leads  to  misconstructions  of  fact  on  the  basis  of 
an  imported  theory,  and  generally  ends  in  forcibly 
perverting  the  least-known  science  to  the  type  of 
the  better  known,"* 

What  is  wanted  is  simply  a  unity  of  conception, 
but  not  such  a  unity  of  conception  as  should  be 
founded  on  an  absolute  identity  of  phenomena. 
This  latter  might  indeed  be  a  unity,  but  it  would 
be  a  very  tame  one.  The  perfection  of  unity  is 
attained  where  there  is  infinite  variety  of  phenom 

*  "EiisaYs,"  vol.    .   p.  40. 


34  INTRODUCTION". 

ena,  infinite  complexity  of  relation,  but  great  sini 
plicity  of  Law.  Science  will  be  complete  when  aii 
Known  phenomena  can  be  arranged  in  one  vast. 
circle  in  which  a  few  well  known  Laws  shall  form 
the  radii — these  radii  at  once  separating  and  unit- 
ing, separating  into  particular  groups,  yet  unitiiig 
all  to  a  common  center.  To  show  that  the  radii 
for  some  of  the  most  characteristic  phenomena  of 
the  Spiritual  World  are  already  drawn  within  that 
circle  by  science  is  the  main  object  of  the  papers 
which  follow.  There  will  be  found  an  attempt  to 
restate  a  few  of  the  more  elementary  facts  of  the 
Spiritual  Life  in  terms  of  Biology.  Any  argument 
for  Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World  may  be 
best  tested  in  the  a  jjosteriori  form.  And  although 
the  succeeding  pages  are  not  designed  in  the  first 
instance  to  prove  a  principle,  they  may  yet  be  en- 
tered here  as  evidence.  The  practical  test  is  a  se- 
vere one,  but  on  that  account  all  the  more  satisfac- 
tory. 

And  what  will  be  gained  if  the  point  be  made 
out?  Not  a  few  things.  For  one,  as  partly  indi- 
cated already,  the  scientific  demand  of  the  age  will 
be  satisfied.  That  demand  is  that  all  that  con- 
cerns life  and  conduct  shall  be  placed  on  a  scien- 
tific basis.  The  only  great  attempt  to  meet  that 
at  present  is  Positivism. 

But  what  again  is  a  scientific  basis?  What  ex- 
actly is  this  demand  of  the  age?  "By  Science  I 
understand,"  says  Huxley,  "  all  knowledge  which 
rests  upon  evidence  and  reasoning  of  a  life  charac- 
ter to  that  which  claims  our  assent  to  ordinary 
scientific  propositions;  and  if  any  one  is  able  to 
make  good  the  assertion  that  his  theology  rests 
upon  valid  evidence  and  sound  reasoning,  then  it 
appears  to  me  that  such  theology  must  take  its 
place  as  a  part  of  science."  That  the  assertion 
has  been  already  made  good  is  claimed  by  many 
who  deserve  to  be  heard  on  questions  of  scientific 
evidence.  But  if  more  is  wanted  by  some  minds, 
more  not  perhaps  of  a  higher  kind  but  of  a  differ- 
ent kind,  at  least  the  attempt  can  be  made  to 


INTEODUCTIOJS".  35 

gratify  them.  Mr.  Frederick  Harrison,*  in  name 
of  the  Positive  method  of  thought,  "turns  aside 
from  ideal  standards  which  avow  themselves  to  be 
lawless  [theitahcs  are  Mr.  Harrison's],  which  pro- 
fess to  transcend  the  field  of  law.  We  say,  life 
and  conduct  shall  stand  for  us  wholly  on  a  basis 
of  law,  and  must  rest  entirely  in  that  region  of 
science  (not  physical,  but  moral  and  social  science) 
where  we  are  free  to  use  our  intelligence,  in  the 
methods  known  to  us  as  inteligible  logic,  methods 
which  the  intellect  can  analyze.  When  you  con- 
front us  with  hypotheses,  however  sublime  and 
however  affecting,  if  they  cannot  be  stated  in 
terms  of  the  rest  of  our  knowledge,  if  they  are  dis- 
parate that  world  of  sequence  and  sensation  which 
to  us  is  the  ultimate  base  of  all  our  real  knowledge, 
then  we  shake  our  heads  and  turn  aside."  This 
is  a  most  reasonable  demand,  and  we  humbly  ac- 
cept the  challenge.  We  think  religious  truth,  or 
at  all  events  certain  of  the  largest  facts  of  the 
Spiritual  Life,  can  be  stated  "  in  terms  of  the  rest 
of  our  knowledge." 

We  do  not  say,  as  already  hinted,  that  the  pro- 
posal includes  an  attempt  to  prove  the  existence  of 
the  Spiritual  World.  Does  that  need  proof?  And 
if  so,  what  sort  of  evidence  would  be  considered 
in  court?  The  facts  of  the  Spiritual  World  are  as 
real  to  thousands  as  the  facts  of  the  Natural 
World— and  more  real  to  hundreds.  But  were 
one  asked  to  prove  that  the  Spiritual  World  can  be 
discerned  by  the  appropriate  faculties,  one  would 
do  it  precisely  as  one  would  attempt  to  prove  the 
Natural  World  to  be  an  object  of  recognition  to 
the  senses — and  wdth  as  much  or  as  little  success. 
In  either  instance  probably  the  fact  would  be 
found  in-capable  of  demonstration,  but  not  more  in 
the  one  case  than  in  the  other.  Were  one  asked  to 
prove  the  existence  of  Spiritual  Life,  one  would 
also  do  it  exactly  as  one  would  seek  to  prove  Nat- 
ural Life.  And  this  perhaps  might  be  attempted 
with  more  hope.     But  this  is  not  on  the  immedi- 

*  "A  Modern  Symposium.'"— iVine<e€n<A  Century,  vol.  i.  p.  eg.?. 


36  IXTRODUCTIOlSr. 

ate  programme.  Science  deals  with  known  facts; 
and  accepting  certain  known  facts  in  the  Si^iritual 
World  we  proceed  to  arrange  them,  to  discover 
their  Laws,  to  inquire  if  they  can  be  stated  "in 
terms  of  the  rest  of  our  knowledge." 

At  the  same  time,  although  attempting  no  phil- 
osophical proof  of  the  existence  of  a  Spiritual  Life 
and  a  Spiritual  World,  we  are  not  without  hope 
that  the  general  line  of  thought  here  may  he  useful 
to  some  who  are  honestly  inquiring  in  these  direc- 
tions. The  stumbling-block  to  most  minds  is  per- 
haps less  the  mere  existence  of  the  unseen  than 
the  want  of  definition,  the  apparently  hopeless 
vagueness,  and  not  least,  the  delight  in  this  vague- 
ness as  mere  vagueness  by  some  who  look  upon 
this  as  the  mark  of  quality  in  Spiritual  things. 
It  will  be  at  least  something  to  tell  earnest  seekers 
that  the  Spiritual  World  is  not  a  castle  in  the  air, 
of  an  architecture  unknown  to  earth  or  heaven,  but 
a  fair  ordered  realm  furnished  with  many  familiar 
things  and  ruled  by  well-remembered  Laws. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  emj)hasize  under  a 
second  head  the  gain  in  clearness.  The  Spiritual 
World  as  it  stands  is  full  of  perjilexity.  One  can 
escape  doubt  only  by  escaping  thought.  With 
regard  to  many  important  articles  of  religion 
perhaps  the  best  and  the  worst  course  at  present 
open  to  a  doubter  is  simple  credulity.  AVho  is  to 
answer  for  this  state  of  things?  It  comes  as  a 
necessary  tax  for  improvement  on  the  age  in 
which  we  live.  The  old  ground  of  faith.  Author- 
ity, is  given  up;  the  new.  Science,  has  not  yet 
taken  its  place.  Men  did  not  require  to  see  truth 
before;  they  only  needed  to  believe  it.  Truth, 
therefore,  had  not  been  put  by  Theology  in  a  see- 
ing form — which,  however,  was  its  original  form. 
But  now  they  ask  to  see  it.  And  when  it  is 
shown  them  they  start  back  in  despair.  We  shall 
not  say  what  they  see.  But  Ave  shall  say  what 
they  might  see.  If  the  Natural  Laws  Avere  run 
through  the  Spiritual  World,  they  might  see  the 
great  lines  of  religious  truth  as  clearly  and  simply 
3,s  the  broad  lines  of  science.     As  the}^  gazed  into 


INTRODUCTION".  37 

that  Natural -Spiritual  World  they  woiTld  say  to 
themselves,  "\Ve  have  seen  something  like  this 
before.  This  order  is  known  to  us.  It  is  not 
arbitrary.  This  Law  here  is  that  old  Law  there, 
and  this  Phenomenon  here,  what  can  it  be  but 
that  which  stood  in  jorecisely  the  same  relation  to 
that  Law  yonder?"  And  so  gradually  from  the 
new  form  everything  assumes  Lew  meaning.  So 
the  Spiritual  World  becomes  slowly  Natural;  and, 
what  is  of  all  but  equal  momen  ,  the  Natural 
AYorld  becomes  slowly  Spiritual.  A  ture  is  not  a 
mei'e  image  or  emblem  of  the  Spirit  al.  It  is  a 
working  model  of  the  Spiritual.  In  the  Spiritual 
World  the  same  wheels  revolve — but  without  the 
iron.  The  same  figures  flit  across  the  stage,  the 
same  processes  of  growth  go  on,  the  same  func- 
tions are  discharged,  the  same  biological  laws 
prevail — only  with  a  different  quality  of  ^t'o?. 
Plato's  prisoner,  if  not  out  of  the  Cave,  has  at 
least  his  face  to  the  light. 

"The  earth  is  cram'd  with  heaven, 
And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God." 

How  much  of  the  Spiritual  World  is  covered  by 
Natural  law  we  do  not  propose  at  present  to 
inquire.  It  is  certain,  at  least,  that  the  whole  is 
not  covered.  And  nothing  more  lends  (Confidence 
to  the  method  than  this.  For  one  thing,  room 
is  still  left  for  mystery.  Had  no  place  remained 
for  mystery  it  had  proved  itself  both  unscientific 
and  irreligious.  A  Science  without  mystery  is 
unknown;  a  Religion  without  mystery  is  absurd. 
This  is  no  attempt  to  reduce  Religion  to  a  question 
of  mathematics,  or  demonstrate  God  in  biological 
formula3.  The  elimination  of  mystery  from  the 
itniverse  is  the  elimination  of  Religion.  However 
far  the  scientific  method  may  penetrate  the 
Spiritual  World,  there  will  alvA^ays  remain  a  region 
to  be  explored  by  a  scientific  faith.  "I  shall 
never  rise  to  the  point  of  view  which  wishes  to 
"raise'  faith  to  knowledge.  To  me,  the  way  of 
truth  is  to  come  through  the  knowledge  of  my 


38  INTRODUCTION. 

ignorance  to  the  submissiveness  of  faith,  and  then, 
making  that  my  starting  place,  to  raise  my 
knowledge  into  faith."* 

Lest  this  proclamation  of  mystery  should  seem 
alarming,  let  us  add  that  this  mystery  also  is 
scientific.  The  one  subject  on  which  all  scientific 
men  are  agi*eed,  the  one  theme  on  which  all  alike 
become  eloquent,  the  one  strain  of  pathos  in  all 
their  Avriting  and  speaking  and  thinking,  concerns 
that  final  uncertainty,  that  utter  blackness  of 
darkness  bounding  their  work  on  every  side.  If 
the  light  of  Nature  is  to  illuminate  for  us  the 
Spiritual  Sphere,  there  may  well  be  a  black 
Unknown,  corresponding,  at  least  at  some  points, 
to  this  zone  of  darkness  round  the  Natural  World. 

But  the  final  gain  would  appear  in  the  depart- 
ment of  Theology.  The  establishment  of  the 
Sj)iritual  Laws  on  "the  solid  ground  of  Nature," 
to  which  the  mind  trusts  "which  builds  for  aye," 
would  offer  a  new  basis  for  certainty  in  Religion. 
It  has  been  indicated  that  the  authority  of  Author- 
ity is  waning.  This  is  a  plain  fact.  And  it  was 
inevitable.  Authority — man's  Authority,  that  is — 
is  for  children.  And  there  necessarily  comes  a  time 
when  they  add  to  the  question.  What  shall  I  do?  or. 
What  shall  believe?  the  adult's  interrogation — 
Why?  Now  this  question  is  sacred,  and  must  be 
answered. 

"How  truly  its  central  position  is  impregnable," 
Herbert  Spencer  has  well  discerned,  "religion  has 
never  adequately  realized.  In  the  devoutest 
faith,  as  we  habitually  see  it,  there  lies  hidden  an 
innermost  core  of  scepticism;  and  it  is  this  scep- 
ticism which  causes  that  dread  of  inquiry  dis- 
played by  religion  when  face  to  face  with  science,  "f 

True  indeed;  Religion  has  never  realized  how 
impregnable  are  many  of  its  positions.  It  has 
not  yet  been  placed  on  that  basis  which  would 
make  them  impregnable.  And  in  a  transition 
period  like  the  present,  holding  Authority  with 
one   hand,   the   other  feeling  all  around  in  the 

*  Beck:  "Bib.  Psychol.,"  Clark's  Tr.,  Pref.,  3d  Ed.  p.  xiii. 
+  "First  Principles,"  p.  161. 


INTRODUCTION.  39 

darkness  for  some  strong  new  support,  Theology 
is  surely  to  be  pitied.  Wlience  this  dread  when 
brouglit  face  to  face  with  Science?  It  cannot  be 
dread  of  scientific  fact.  No  single  fact  in  Science 
has  ever  discredited  a  fact  in  Religion.  Tlie 
theologian  knows  that,  and  admits  that  he  has  no 
fear  of  facts.  What  then  has  Science  done  to 
make  Theology  tremble?  It  is  its  method.  It  is 
its  system.  It  is  its  Reign  of  Law.  It  is  its 
harmony  and  continuity.  The  attack  is  not 
specific.  No  one  point  is  assailed.  It  is  the 
whole  system  which  when  compared  with  the 
other  and  weighed  in  its  balance  is  found  wanting. 
An  eye  which  has  looked  at  the  first  cannot  look 
upon  this.  To  do  that,  and  rest  in  the  contem- 
plation, it  has  first  to  uncentury  itself. 

Herbert  Spencer  points  out  further,  with  how 
much  truth  need  not  now  be  discussed,  that  the 
purification  of  Religion  has  always  come  from 
Science.  It  is  very  apparent  at  all  events  that  an 
immense  debt  must  soon  be  contracted.  The 
shifting  of  the  furnishings  will  be  a  work  of  time. 
But  it  must  be  accomplished.  And  not  the  least 
result  of  the  process  will  be  the  effect  upon  Science 
itself.  No  department  of  knowledge  ever  con- 
tributes to  another  without  receiving  its  own 
again  with  usury — witness  the  reciprocal  favors 
of  Biology  and  Sociology.  From  the  time  that 
Comte  defined  the  analogy  between  the  phenom- 
ena exhibited  by  aggregations  of  associated  men 
and  those  of  animal  colonies,  the  Science  of  Life 
and  the  Science  of  Society  have  been  so  contribut- 
ing to  one  another  that  their  progress  since  has 
been  all  but  hand-in-hand.  A  conception  bor- 
rowed by  the  one  has  been  observed  in  time 
finding  its  way  back,  and  always  in  an  enlarged 
form,  to  further  illuminate  and  enrich  the  field  it 
left.  So  must  it  be  with  Science  and  Religion. 
If  the  purification  of  Religion  comes  from  Science, 
the  purification  of  Science,  in  a  deeper  sense,  shall 
come  from  Religion.  The  true  ministry  of 
Nature  must  at  last  be  honored,  and  Science  tako 


40  INTRODUCTION. 

its    place  as  the  great  expositor.      To   Men   of 
Science,  not  less  than  to  Theologians, 

"Science  then 
Shall  be  a  precious  visitant;  and  then, 
And  only  then,  be  worthy  of  her  name  ; 
For  then  her  heart  shall  kindle,  her  dull  eye. 
Dull  and  inanimate,  no  more  shall  hang 
Chained  to  its  object  in  brute  slavery; 
But  taught  with  patient  interest  to  watch 
The  process  of  things,  and  serve  the  cause 
Of  order  and  distinctness,  not  for  this 
Shall  it  forget  that  its  most  noble  use, 
Its  most  illustrious  province,  must  be  found 
In  furnishing  clear  guidance,  a  support, 
Not  treacherous,  to  the  mind's  excursive  power."* 

But  the  gift  of  Science  to  Theology  shall  be 
not  less  rich.  With  the  inspiration  of  Nature  to 
illuminate  what  the  inspiration  of  Revelation  has 
left  obscure,  heresy  in  certain  whole  departments 
shall  become  impossible.  With  the  demonstration 
of  the  naturalness  of  the  supernatural,  scepticism 
even  may  come  to  be  regarded  as  unscientific. 
And  those  who  have  wrestled  long  for  a  few  bare 
truths  to  ennoble  life  and  rest  their  souls  in 
thinking  of  the  future  will  not  be  left  in  doabt. 

It  is  impossible  to  believe  that  the  amazing 
succession  of  revelations  in  the  domain  of  Nature 
during  the  last  few  centuries,  at  which  the  world 
has  all  but  grown  tired  wondering,  are  to  yield 
nothing  for  the  higher  life.  If  the  development 
of  doctrine  is  to  have  any  meaning  for  the  future, 
Theology  must  draw  upon  the  further  revelation 
of  the  seen  for  the  further  revelation  of  the 
unseen.  It  need,  and  can,  add  nothing  to  fact; 
but  as  the  vision  of  Newton  rested  on  a  clearer 
and  richer  world  than  that  of  Plato,  so,  though 
seeing  the  same  things  in  the  Spiritual  World  as 
our  fathers,  we  may  see  them  clearer  and  richer. 
With  the  work  of  the  centuries  upon  it,  the 
mental  eye  is  a  finer  instrument,  and  demands  a 
more  ordered  world.     Had  the  revelation  of  Law 

*  WordPwortli"s  Excnrninn,  Book  iv. 


INTROr>UCTION.  41 

been  given  sooner,  it  h&d  been  unintelligible. 
Eevelation  never  volunteers  anything  that  man 
could  discover  for  himself — on  the  principle, 
probably,  that  it  is  only  when  he  is  capable  of 
discovering  it  that  he  is  capable  of  appreciating 
it.  Besides,  children  do  not  need  Laws,  except 
Laws  in  the  sense  of  commandments.  They 
repose  with  simplicity  on  authority,  and  ask  no 
questions.  But  there  comes  a  time,  as  the  world 
reaches  its  manhood,  when  they  will  ask  ques- 
tions, and  stake,  moreover,  everything  on  the 
answers.  That  time  is  now.  Hence  we  must 
exhibit  our  doctrines,  not  lying  athwart  the  lines 
of  the  world's  thinking,  in  a  place  reserved,  and 
therefore  shunned,  for  the  Great  Exception ; 
but  in  their  kinship  to  all  truth  and  in  their  Law- 
relation  to  the  whole  of  Nature.  This  is,  indeed, 
simply  following  out  the  system  of  teaching  begun 
by  Christ  Himself.  And  what  is  the  search  for 
spiritual  truth  in  the  Laws  of  Nature  but  an 
attempt  to  utter  the  parables  which  have  been  hid 
so  long  in  the  world  around  without  a  preacher, 
and  to  tell  men  at  once  more  that  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven  is  like  unto  this  and  to  that? 


INTRODUCTION.  43 


PART  II. 


The  Law  of  Continuity  having  been  referred  to 
already  as  a  prominent  factor  in  this  inquiry,  it 
may  not  be  out  of  place  "to  sustain  the  plea  for 
Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  Sphere  by  a  brief 
statement  and  application  of  this  great  principle. 
The  Law  of  Continuity  furnishes  an  a  priori 
argument  for  the  position  we  are  attempting  to 
establish  of  the  most  convincing  kind — of  such  a 
kind,  indeed,  as  to  seem  to  our  mind  final. 
Briefly  indicated,  the  ground  taken  up  is  this, 
that  if  Nature  be  a  harmony,  Man  in  all  his 
relations — physical,  mental,  moral,  and  spiritual — 
falls  to  be  included  within  its  circle.  It  is  alto- 
gether unlikely  that  man  spiritual  should  be 
violently  separated  in  all  the  conditions  of  growth, 
development,  and  life,  from  man  physical.  It  is 
indeed  difficult  to  conceive  that  one  set  of  prin- 
ciples should  guide  the  natural  life,  and  these  at  a 
certain  period — the  very  point  where  they  are 
needed— suddenly  give  place  to  another  set  of 
principles  altogether  new  and  unrelated.  Nature 
has  never  taught  us  to  expect  such  a  catastrophe. 
She  has  nowhere  prepared  us  for  it.  And  Man 
cannot  in  the  nature  of  things,  in  the  nature  of 
thought,  in  the  nature  of  language,  be  separated 
into  two  such  incoherent  halves. 

The  spiritual  man,  it  is  true,  is  to  be  studied  in 
a  different  department  of  science  from  the  natural 
man.  But  the  harmony  established  by  science  is 
not  a  harmony  within  specific  departments.  It  is 
the  universe  that  is  the  harmony,  the  universe  of 
whicli  these  are  but  parts  And  the  harmonies 
of  the  parts  depend  for  all  their  weight  and 
interest  on  the  harmony  of  the  whole.     While, 


44  INTRODUCTION". 

therefore,  there  are  many  harmonies,  there  is  but 
one  harmony.  The  breaking  up  of  the  phenom- 
ena of  the  universe  into  carefully  guarded  groups, 
and  the  allocation  of  certain  prominent  Laws  to 
each,  it  must  never  be  forgotten,  and  however 
much  Nature  lends  herself  to  it,  are  artificial.  We 
find  an  evolution  in  Botany,  another  in  Geology. 
and  another  in  Astronomy,  and  the  effect  is  to 
lead  one  insensibly  to  look  upon  these  as  three 
distinct  evolutions.  But  these  sciences,  of  course, 
are  mere  departments  created  by  ourselves  to  facil- 
itate knowledge — reductions  of  Nature  to  the 
scale  of  our  own  intelligence.  And  we  must 
beware  of  breaking  up  Nature  except  for  this 
purpose.  Science  has  so  dissected  everything, 
that  it  becomes  a  mental  difficulty  to  put  the 
puzzle  together  again;  aud  we  must  keep  ourselves 
in  practice  by  constantly  thinking  of  Nature  as  a 
whole,  if  science  is  not  to  be  spoiled  by  its  own 
refinements.  Evolution  being  found  in  so  many 
iifferent  sciences,  the  likelihood  is  that  it  is  a 
universal  principle.  And  there  is  no  presump- 
tion whatever  against  this  Law  and  many  others 
being  excluded  from  the  domain  of  the  spiritual 
life.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  very  convinc- 
ing reasons  why  the  Natural  Laws  should  be  con- 
tinuous through  the  Spiritual  Sphere  —  not 
changed  in  any  way  to  meet  the  new  circum- 
stances, but  continuous  as  they  stand. 

But  to  the  exposition.  One  of  the  most  strik- 
ing generalizations  of  recent  science  is  that  even 
Laws  have  their  Law.  Phenomena  first,  in  the 
progress  of  knowledge,  were  grouped  together,  and 
Nature  shortly  presented  the  spectacle  of  a  cosmos, 
the  lines  of  beauty  being  the  great  Natural  Laws. 
So  long,  however,  as  these  Laws  were  merely  great 
lines  running  through  Nature,  so  long  as  they  re- 
mained isolated  from  one  another,  the  system  of 
Nature  was  still  incomplete.  The  principle  which 
sought  Law  among  phenomena  had  to  go  further 
and  seek  a  Law  among  the  Laws.  Laws  them- 
selves accordingly  came  to  be  treated  as  they  treated 
phenomena,  and  found  themselves  finally  grouped 


INTKODrcTION.  45 

in  a  still  narrower  circle.  That  inmost  circle  is 
governed  by  one  great  Law,  the  Law  of  Continu- 
it3^     It  is  the  Law  for  Laws. 

It  is  perhaps  significant  that  few  exact  defini- 
tions of  Continuity  are  to  be  found.  Even  in  Sir 
W.  R.  Grove's  famous  paper,*  the  fountain-head 
of  the  modern  form  of  this  far  from  modern  truth, 
there  is  no  attempt  at  definition.  In  point  of  fact, 
its  sweep  is  so  magnificent,  it  appeals  so  much  more 
to  the  imagination  than  to  the  reason,  that  men 
have  preferred  to  exhibit  rather  than  to  define  it. 
Its  true  greatness  consists  in  the  final  impression 
it  leaves  on  the  mind  with  regard  to  the  uniform- 
ity of  Nature.  For  it  was  reserved  for  the  Law  of 
Continuity  to  put  the  finishing  touch  to  the  har- 
mony of  the  universe. 

Probably  the  most  satisfactory  way  to  secure  for 
one's  self  a  just  appreciation  of  the  Principle  of 
Continuity  is  to  try  to  conceive  the  universe  with- 
out it.  The  opposite  of  a  continuous  universe 
would  be  a  discontinuous  universe,  an  incoherent 
and  irrelevant  universe — as  irrelevant  in  all  its 
ways  of  doing  things  as  an  irrelevant  person.  In 
effect,  to  withdraw  Continuity  from  the  universe 
would  be  the  same  as  to  withdraw  reason  from  ^n 
individual.  The  universe  would  run  deranged; 
the  world  would  be  a  mad  world. 

There  used  to  be  a  children's  book  which  bore 
the  fascinating  title  of  ' '  The  Chance  World. ' '  It 
described  a  world  in  which  everything  happened 
by  chance.  The  sun  might  rise  or  it  might  not; 
or  it  might  appear  at  any  hour,  or  the  moon  might 
come  up  instead.  When  children  were  born  they 
might  have  one  head  or  a  dozen  heads,  and  those 
heads  might  not  be  on  their  shoulders — there 
might  be  no  shoulders — but  arranged  about  the 
limbs.  If  one  jumped  up  in  the  air  it  was  impos- 
sible to  predict  whether  he  would  ever  come  down 
again.  That  he  came  down  yesterday  was  no 
guarantee  that  he  would  do  it  next  time.  For 
every  day  antecedent  and  consequent  varied,  and 

*  "The  Correlation  of  Phytjical  Forces,"  Gth  ed.,  p.  181  et  seq. 


46  INTRODUCTION. 

gravitation  and  everything  else  changed  from  hour 
to  hour.  To  day  a  child's  body  might  be  so  light 
that  it  was  impossible  for  it  to  descend  from  its 
chair  to  the  floor;  but  to-morrow,  in  attempting 
the  experiment  again,  the  impetus  might  drive  it 
through  a  thre3-story  house  and  dash  it  to  pieces 
somewhere  near  the  center  of  the  earth.  In  this 
chance  world  cause  and  effect  were  abolished. 
Law  was  annihilated.  And  the  result  to  the  in- 
habitants of  such  a  world  could  only  be  that  reason 
would  be  impossible.  It  would  be  a  lunatic  world 
with  a  population  of  lunatics. 

Now  this  is  no  more  than  a  real  picture  of  what 
the  world  would  be  without  Law,  or  the  universe 
without  Continuity.  And  hence  we  come  in  sight 
of  the  necessity  of  some  principle  of  Law  accord- 
ing to  which  Laws  shall  be,  and  be  "  continuous  " 
throughout  the  system.  Man  as  a  rational  and 
moral  being  demands  a  pledge  that  if  he  depends 
on  Nature  for  any  given  result  on  the  ground  that 
Nature  has  previously  led  him  to  expect  such  a  re- 
sult, his  intellect  shall  not  be  insulted,  nor  his 
confidence  in  her  abused.  If  he  is  to  trust  Nature, 
in  short,  it  must  be  guaranteed  to  him  that  in  do- 
ing so  he  will  "  never  be  put  to  confusion."  The 
authors  of  the  Unseen  Z7wu'erse  conclude  their  ex- 
amination of  this  principle  by  saying  that ' '  assum- 
ing the  existence  of  a  supreme  Governor  of  the  uni- 
verse, the  Principle  of  Continuity  may  be  said  to 
be  the  definite  expression  in  words  of  our  trust 
that  He  will  not  pu.t  us  to  permanent  intellectual 
confusion,  and  we  can  easily  conceive  similar  ex- 
pressions of  trust  with  reference  to  the  other  fac- 
ulties of  man."*  Or,  as  it  hasl>een  well  put  else- 
where, Continuity  is  the  expression  of  "  the  Divine 
Veracity  iu  Nature,  "f  The  most  striking  exam- 
ples of  the  continuoiisness  of  Law  are  perhaps 
those  furnished  by  Astronomy,  especially  in  con- 
nection with  the  more  recent  applications  of  spec- 
trum anal  J?  sis.     But  even  in  the  case  of  the  simplex 

♦  "Unseen  Universe,"  6th  ed.,  p.  88. 

t  "Old  Faiths  in  New  Light,"  by  Newman  Smith.    Unwinds  English 
(ditiou,  p.  'HjH. 


INTRODUCTION.  47 

Laws  the  demonstration  is  complete.  There  is  no 
reason  apart  from  Continuity  to  expect  that  gravi- 
tation for  instance  should  prevail  outside  our  world. 
But  wherever  matter  has  been  detected  throughout 
the  entire  universe,  whether  in  the  form  of  star  or 
planet,  comet  or  meteorite,  it  is  found  to  obey  that 
Law.  "  If  there  were  no  other  indication  of  unity 
than  this,  it  would  be  almost  enough.  For  the 
unity  which  is  implied  in  the  mechanism  of  the- 
heavens  is  indeed  a  unity  which  is  all-embracing 
and  complete.  The  structure  of  our  own  bodies, 
with  all  that  depends  upon  it,  is  a  structure  gov- 
erned by,  and  therefore  adapted  to,  the  same  force 
of  gravitation  which  has  determined  the  form  and 
the  movements  of  myriads  of  worlds.  Every  part 
of  the  human  organism  is  fitted  to  conditions 
which  would  all  be  destroyed  in  a  moment  if  the 
forces  of  gravitation  were  to  change  or  fail."* 

But  it  is  unnecessary  to  multiply  illustrations. 
Having  defined  the  principle  we  may  proceed  at 
once  to  apply  to  it.  And  the  argument  may  be 
summed  up  in  a  sentence.  As  the  Natural  Laws 
are  continuous  through  the  universe  of  matter  and 
of  space,  so  will  tliey  be  continuous  through  the 
universe  of  spirit. 

If  this  be  denied,  what  then?  Those  who  deny 
it  must  furnish  the  disproof.  The  argument  is 
founded  on  a  principle  which  is  now  acknowledged 
to  be  universal;  and  the  omis  of  disproof  must  lie 
with  those  who  may  be  bold  enough  to  take  up  the 
position  that  a  region  exists  where  at  last  the 
Principle  of  Continuity  fails.  To  do  this  one 
would  first  have  to  overturn  Nature,  then  science, 
and  last,  the  human  mind. 

It  may  seem  an  obvious  objection  that  many  of 
the  Natural  Laws  have  no  connection  whatever 
with  the  Spiritual  World,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact 
are  not  continued  through  it.  Gravitation  for 
instance — what  direct  application  has  that  in  the 
Spiritual  World?  The  reply  is  threefold.  First, 
there  is  no  proof  that  it  does  not  hold  there.     If 

*  The  Duke  of  Argyll :  Contemporary  Eeview,  Sept.,  1880,  p,  336 


48  INTRODUCTION. 

the  spirit  be  in  any  sense  material  it  certainly 
must  hold.  In  the  second  place,  gravitation  may 
hold  for  the  Spiritual  Sphere  although  it  cannot 
be  directly  proved.  The  spirit  may  be  armed 
with  powers  which  enable  it  to  rise  superior  to 
gravity.  During  the  action  of  these  powers 
gravity  need  be  no  more  suspended  than  in  the  case 
of  a  plant  which  rises  in  the  air  during  the  pro- 
cess of  growth.  It  does  this  in  virtue  of  a  higher 
Law  and  in  apparent  defiance  of  the  lower. 
Thirdly,  if  the  spiritual  be  not  material  it  still 
cannot  be  said  that  gravitation  ceases  at  that 
point  to  be  continuous.  It  is  not  gravitation 
that  ceases — it  is  matter. 

This  point,  however,  will  require  development 
for  another  reason.  In  the  case  of  the  plant  just 
referred  to,  there  is  a  princii^le  of  growth  or 
vitality  at  work  superseding  the  attraction  of 
gravity.  Why  is  there  no  trace  of  that  Law  in 
the  Inorganic  world?  Is  not  this  another  instance 
of  the  discontinuousness  of  Law?  If  the  Law  of 
vitality  has  so  little  connection  with  the  Inorganic 
kingdom — less  even  than  gravitation  with  the 
Spiritual,  what  becomes  of  Continuity?  Is  it  not 
wdent  that  each  kingdom  of  Nature  has  its  own 
set  of  Laws  which  continue  possibly  untouched 
for  the  specific  kingdom  but  never  extend  beyond 
it? 

It  is  quite  true  that  when  we  pass  from  the 
Inorganic  to  the  Organic,  we  come  upon  a  new 
set  of  Laws.  But  the  reason  why  the  lower  set 
do  not  seem  to  act  in  the  higher  sphere  is  not 
that  they  are  annihilated,  but  that  they  are  over- 
ruled. And  the  reason  why  the  higher  Laws  are 
not  found  operating  in  the  lower  is  not  because 
they  are  not  continuous  downward,  but  because 
there  is  nothing  for  them  there  to  act  upon.  It 
is  not  Law  that  fails,  but  opportunity.  The 
biological  Laws  are  continuous  for  life.  Wher- 
ever there  is  life,  that  is  to  say,  they  will  be  found 
acting,  just  as  gravitation  acts  wherever  there  is 
matter. 

We  have  purposely,   in    the    last    paragraph. 


INTRODUCTION.  -jO 

indulged  in  a  fallacy.'  "We  have  said  that  the 
Ijiological  Laws  would  certainly  be  continuous  in 
the  lower  or  mineral  sidiere  were  there  anything 
there  for  them  to  act  upon.  Xow  Laws  do  not 
act  upon  anything.  It  has  been  stated  already, 
although  apparently  it  cannot  be  too  abundantly 
emphasized,  that  La^vs  are  only  modes  of  opera- 
tion, not  themselves  operators.  The  accurate 
statement,  therefore,  would  be  that  the  biological 
Laws  would  be  continuous  in  the  lower  sphere 
were  there  anything  there  for  them,  not  to  act 
upon,  but  to  keep  in  order.  If  there  is  no  acting 
going  on,  if  there  is  nothing  being  kept  in  order, 
the  responsibility  does  not  lie  with  Continuity. 
The  Law  will  always  be  at  its  post,  not  only  when 
its  services  are  required,  but  wherever  they  are 
possible. 

Attention  is  drawn  to  this,  for  it  is  a  correction 
one  will  find  one's  self  compelled  often  to  make  in 
liis  thinking.  It  is  so  difficult  to  keep  out  of 
mind  the  idea  of  substance  in  connection  with  the 
Xatural  Laws,  the  idea  that  they  are  the  movers, 
tlie  essences,  the  energies,  that  one  is  constantly 
on  the  verge  of  falling  into  false  conclusions. 
Thus  a  hasty  glance  at  the  present  argument  on 
the  part  of  any  one  ill-furnished  enough  to  con- 
found Law  with  substance  or  with  cause  would 
probably  lead  to  its  immediate  rejection.  For, 
to  continue  the  same  line  of  illustration,  it  might 
next  be  urged  that  such  a  Law  as  Biogenesis, 
which,  as  we  hope  to  show  afterward,  is  the 
fundamental  Law^  of  life  for  both  the  natural  and 
spiritual  worlds,  can  have  no  application  whatso- 
ever in  the  latter  sphere.  The  life  with  which 
it  deals  in  the  Natural  World  does  not  enter  at 
all  into  the  Spiritual  AVorld,  and  therefore,  it 
might  be  argued,  the  Law  of  Biogenesis  cannot 
be  capable  of  extension  into  it.  The  Law  of 
Continuity  seems  to  be  snapped  at  the  point 
where  the  natural  passes  into  the  spiritual.  The 
vital  principle  of  the  body  is  a  different  thing 
from  the  vital  principle  of  the  spiritual  life. 
Biogenesis  deals  with  ?io<;,  with  the  natural  life. 


50  INTRODUCTION. 

with  cells  and  germs,  and  as  there  are  no  exactly 
similar  cells  and  germs  in  the  SiDiritaal  World, 
the  Law  cannot  therefore  apply.  All  which  is  as 
true  as  if  one  were  to  say  that  the  fifth  proposition 
of  the  First  Book  of  Euclid  applies  when  the 
figures  are  drawn  with  chalk  upon  a  blackboard, 
but  fails  with  regard  to  structures  of  wood  or 
stone. 

The  proposition  is  continuous  for  the  whole 
world,  and,  doubtless,  likewise  for  the  sun  and 
moon  and  stars.  The  same  universality  may  be 
predicated  likewise  for  the  Law  of  life.  Wher- 
ever there  is  life  we  may  expect  to  find  it 
arranged,  ordered,  governed  according  to  the  same 
Law.  At  the  beginning  of  the  natural  life  we 
find  the  LavV  that  natural  life  can  only  come  from 
preexisting  natural  life;  and  at  the  beginning  of 
the  spiritual  life  we  find  that  the  spiritual  life 
can  only  come  from  jn-eexistiug  spiritual  life. 
But  there  are  not  two  Laws;  there  is  one — Bio- 
genesis. At  one  end  the  Law  is  dealing  with 
matter,  at  the  other  with  spirit.  The  qualitative 
terms  natural  and  spiritual  make  no  difference. 
Biogenesis  is  the  Law  for  all  life  and  for  all  kinds 
of  life,  and  the  particular  substance  with  which 
it  is  associated  is  as  indifferent  to  Biogenesis  as  it 
is  to  Gravitation.  Gravitation  will  act  whether 
the  substance  be  suns  and  stars,  or  grains  of  sand, 
or  raindrops.  Biogenesis,  in  like  manner,  will 
act  wherever  there  is  life. 

The  conclusion  finally  is,  that  from  the  nature 
of  Law  in  general,  and  from  the  scope  of  the 
Principle  of  Continuity  in  particular,  the  Laws  of 
the  natural  life  must  be  those  of  the  spiritual  life. 
This  does  not  exclude,  observe,  the  possibility  of 
there  being  new  Laws  in  addition  within  the 
Spiritual  Sphere;  nor  does  it  even  include  the 
supposition  that  the  old  Laws  will  be  the  con- 
spicuous Laws  of  the  Spiritual  World,  both  which 
points  will  be  dealt  with  presently.  It  simply 
asserts  that  whatever  else  may  be  found,  these 
must  be  found  there;  that  they  must  be  there 
though  they  may  not  be  seen  tliere;   and  that 


IJfTRODUCTION".  61 

they  must  project  beyond  there  if  there  be  any- 
thing beyond  there.  If  the  Law  of  Continnity  is 
true,  the  only  way  to  escape  the  conchisiou  that 
the  Laws  of  the  natural  life  are  the  Laws,  or  at 
least  are  Laws,  of  the  spiritual  life,  is  to  S'ly  that 
there  is  no  spiritual  life.  It  is  really  easier  to 
give  up  the  phenomena  than  to  give  up  the  Law. 

Two  questions  now  remain  for  further  consid- 
eration— one  bearing  on  the  possibility  of  new 
I^aw  in  the  spiritual;  the  other,  on  the  assumed 
invisibility  or  inconspicuousuess  of  the  old  Laws 
on  account  of  their  subordination  to  the  new. 

Let  us  begin  by  conceding  that  there  may  be 
new  Laws.  The  argument  might  then  be 
advanced  that  since,  in  Nature  generally,  we 
come  upon  new  Laws  as  we  pass  from  lower  to 
higher  kingdoms,  the  old  still  remaining  in  force, 
the  newer  Laws  which  one  would  expect  to  meet 
in  the  Spiritual  "World  would  so  transcend  and 
overwhelm  the  older  as  to  make  the  analogy  or 
identity,  even  if  traced,  of  no  practical  use.  The 
new  Laws  would  represent  ojierations  and  energies 
so  different,  and  so  much  more  elevated,  that  tliey 
would  afford  the  true  keys  to  the  Spiritual  AYorld. 
As  Gravitation  is  practically  lost  sight  of  when 
we  pass  into  the  domain  of  life,  so  Biogenesis  would 
be  lost  sight  of  as  we  enter  the  Spiritual  Sphere. 

AYe  must  first  separate  in  this  statement  the 
old  confusion  of  Law  and  energy.  Gravitation  is 
not  lost  sight  of  in  the  organic  world.  Gravity 
may  be,  to  a  certain  extent,  but  not  Gravitation  ; 
and  gravity  only  where  a  higher  pov/er  counteracts 
its  action.  At  the  same  time  it  is  not  to  be 
denied  that  the  conspicuous  thing  in  Organic 
Nature  is  not  the  great  Inorganic  Law. 

But  the  objecticn  turns  upon  the  statement  that 
reasoning  from  analogy  we  should  expect,  in  turn, 
to  lose  sight  of  Biogenesis  as  we  enter  the  Spiritual 
Sphere.  One  answer  to  which  is  that,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  we  do  not  lose  sight  of  it.  So  far  from 
being  invisible,  it  lies  across  the  very  threshold  of 
the  Spiritual  AYorld,  and,  as  we  shall  see,  pervades 
it  everywhere.     What  we  lose  sight  of,  to  a  cer- 


53  INTllODLCTION. 

tain  extent,  is  the  natural  /sios.  In  the  Spiritual 
Worki  that  is  not  the  conspicuous  thing,  and  it  is 
obscure  there  just  as  gravity  becomes  obscure  in 
the  Organic,  because  something  higher,  more  po- 
tent, more  characteristic  of  tlie  higher  plane,  comes 
in.  That  there  are  higher  energies,  so  to  speak,  in 
the  Spiritual  World  is,  of  course,  to  be  affirmed 
alike  on  the  ground  of  analogy  and  of  experience  ', 
but  it  does  not  follow  that  these  necessitate  other 
Laws.  A  Law  has  nothing  to  do  with  potency. 
We  may  lose  sight  of  a  substance,  or  of  an  energy, 
but  it  is  an  abuse  of  language  to  talk  of  losing 
sight  of  Laws. 

Are  there,  then,  no  other  Laws  in  the  Spiritual 
World  excejit  those  which  are  the  projections  or 
extensions  of  Natural  Laws?  From  the  number 
of  Natural  La^vs  which  are  found  in  the  higher 
sphere,  from  the  large  territory  actually  embraced 
by  them,  and  from  their  special  prominence 
throughout  the  whole  region,  it  may  at  least  be 
answered  that  the  margin  left  for  them  is  small. 
But  if  the  objection,  is  pressed  that  it  is  contrary 
to  the  analogy,  and  ujireasonable  in  itself,  that 
there  should  not  be  new  Laws  for  this  higher 
sphere,  the  reply  is  obvious.  Let  these  Laws  be 
produced.  If  the  spiritual  nature,  in  inception, 
growth,  and  development,  does  not  follow  natural 
principles,  let  the  true  principles  be  stated  and  ex- 
plained. We  have  not  denied  that  there  may  be 
new  Laws.  One  would  almost  be  surprised  if 
there  were  not.  The  mass  of  material  handed  over 
from  the  natural  to  the  spiritual,  continuous,  ap- 
parently, from  the  natural  to  the  spiritual,  is  so 
great  that  till  that  is  worked  out  it  will  be  impos- 
sible to  say  what  space  is  still  left  unem braced  by 
Laws  that  are  known.  At  present  it  is  impossible 
even  approximately  to  estimate  the  size  of  that 
supposed  terra  incognita.  F]'om  one  point  of 
view  it  ought  to  be  vast,  from  another  extremely 
small.  But  however  large  the  region  governed  by 
the  suspected  new  Laws  niay  be  that  cannot  di- 
minish by  a  hair's-breadth  the  size  of  the  territory 
where  the  old  Laws  still  prevail.     That  territory 


INTKODUCTION.  53 

itself,  relatively  to  ns  though  perluips  not  iihso- 
lately,  must  be  of  great  extent.  The  size  of  the 
key  which  is  to  open  it,  that  is,  the  size  of  all  the 
Natural  Laws  which  can  be  found  to  apply,  is  a 
guarantee  that  the  region  of  the  knowable  in  the 
Spiritual  World  is  at  least  as  wide  as  these  regions 
of  the  Natural  World  which  by  the  help  of  these 
Laws  have  been  explored.  No  doubt  also  there 
yet  remain  some  Natural  Laws  to  be  discovered, 
and  these  in  time  may  have  a  further  light  to  slied 
on  the  spiritual  fieM.  Then  we  may  know  all  that 
is?  By  no  means.  We  may  only  know  all  that 
may  be  known.  And  that  may  be  very  little. 
The  Sovereign  Will  which  sways  the  scepter  of 
that  invisible  empire  must  be  granted  a  right  of 
freedom — that  freedom  which  by  putting  it  into 
our  wills  He  surely  teaches  us  to  honor  in  His.  lu 
mucli  of  His  dealing  with  us  also,  in  what  may  be 
called  the  paternal  relation,  there  may  seem  no 
special  Law — no  Law  except  the  highest  of  all, 
that  Law  of  which  all  other  Laws  are  parts,  that 
Law  which  neither  Nature  can  wholly  reilect  nor 
the  mind  begin  to  fathom — the  Law  of  Love.  He 
adds  nothing  to  that,  however,  who  loses  sight  of 
all  other  Laws  in  that,  nor  does  he  take  from  it 
who  finds  specific  Laws  everywhere  radiating  from 
it. 

With  regard  to  the-  supposed  new  Laws  of  the 
Spiritual  World — those  Laws,  that  is,  which  are 
found  for  the  first  time  in  the  Spiritual  World, 
and  have  no  analogies  lower  down— there  is  this  to 
be  said,  that  there  is  one  strong  reason  against  ex- 
aggerating either  their  number  or  importance— 
their  importance  at  least  for  our  immediate  needs. 
The  connection  between  language  and  the  Law  of 
Continuity  has  been  referred  to  incidentally  al- 
ready. It  is  clear  that  we  can  only  express  the 
Spiritual  Laws  in  language  borrowed  from  the  vis- 
ible universe.  Being  dependent  for  our  vocabu- 
lary on  images,  if  an  altogether  new  and  foreign 
set  of  Laws  existed  in  the  Spiritual  World,  they 
could  never  take  shape. as  definite  ideas  from  mere 
want  of  words.    The  hypothetical  new  Laws  which 


54  INTRODUCTION. 

may  remain  to  be  discovered  in  tlie  domain  of 
Natural  or  Mental  Science  may  afford  some  index 
of  these  hypothetical  higher  Laws,  but  this  would 
of  course  mean  that  the  latter  were  no  longer  for- 
eign but  in  analogy,  or,  likelier  still,  identical. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Natural  Laws  of  the 
future  have  nothing  to  say  of  these  higher  Laws, 
what  can  be  said  of  them?  Where  is  the  language 
to  come  from  in  which  to  frame  them?  If  their 
disclosure  could  be  of  any  practical  use  to  us,  we 
may  be  sure  the  clue  to  them,  the  revelation  of 
them,  in  some  way  would  have  been  put  into  Na- 
ture. If,  on  the  contrary,  they  are  not  to  be  of 
immediate  use  to  man,  it  is  better  they  should  not 
embarrass  him.  After  all,  then,  our  knowledge 
of  higher  Law  must  be  limited  by  our  knowledge 
of  the  lower.  The  Natural  Laws  as  at  present 
known,  whatever  additions  may  yet  be  made  to 
them,  give  a  fair  rendering  of  the  facts  of  Nature. 
And  their  analogies  or  their  projections  in  the 
Spiritual  sphere  may  also  be  said  to  offer  a  fair 
account  of  that  sphere,  or  of  one  or  two  conspicu- 
ous departments  of  it.  The  time  has  come  for 
that  account  to  be  given.  The  greatest  among 
the  theological  Laws  are  the  Laws  of  Nature  in 
disguise.  It  will  be  the  splendid  task  of  the  the- 
ology of  the  future  to  take  off  the  mask  and  dis- 
close to  a  waning  scepticism  the  naturalness  of  the 
supernatural. 

It  is  almost  singular  that  the  identification  of 
the  Laws  of  the  Spiritual  World  with  the  Laws  of 
Nature  should  so  long  have  escaped  recognition. 
For  apart  from  the  probability  on  a  priori  grounds, 
it  is  involved  in  the  whole  structure  of  Parable. 
When  any  two  Phenomena  in  the  two  spheres  are 
seen  to  be  analogous,  the  parallelism  must  depend 
upon  the  fact  that  the  Laws  governing  them  are  not 
analogous  but  identical.  And  yet  this  basis  for 
Parable  seems  to  have  been  overlooked.  Thus 
Principal  Shairp:— "  This  seeing  of  Spiritual 
truths  mirrored  in  the  face  of  Nature  rests  not  on 
any  fancied,  but  in  a  real  analogy  between  the 
natural  and  the  spn-itaal  worlds.    They  are  in  some 


INTUODUCTION^.  55 

sense  wliicJi  science  has  not  ascertained,  but  which 
the  vital  and  religious  imagination  can  j)erceive, 
pountei'parts  one  of  the  other.''*  But  is  not  this 
the  esj'jlanation,  that  parallel  Phenomena  depend, 
upon  identical  Laws?  It  is  a  question  indeed 
whether  one  can  speak  of  Laws  at  all  as  being  an- 
alogous. Phenomena  are  parallel,  Laws  which 
make  them  so  are  themselves  one. 

In  discussing  the  relations  of  the  Natural  and 
Spiritual  kingdom,  it  has  been  all  but  implied 
hitherto  that  the  S2)iritual  Laws  were  framed 
originally  on  the  plan  of  the  Natural;  and  the  im- 
pression one  might  receive  in  studying  the  two 
worlds  for  the  first  time  from  the  side  of  analogy 
would  naturally  be  that  the  lower  world  was 
formed  first,  as  a  kind  of  scaffolding  on  which  the 
higher  and  Spiritual  should  be  afterward  raised. 
Now  the  exact  opposite  has  been  the  case.  The 
first  in  the  field  was  the  Sj)iritual  World. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  reproduce  here  in  detail 
the  argument  which  has  been  stated  recently  with 
so  much  force  in  the  "Unseen  Universe."  The 
conclusion  of  that  work  remains  still  unassailed, 
that  the  visible  universe  has  been  develojoed  from 
the  unseen.  Apart  from  the  general  proof  from 
the  Law  of  Continuity,  the  more  special  grounds 
of  such  a  conclusion  are,  first,  the  fact  insisted 
upon  by  Herschel  and  Clerk-Maxwell  that  the 
atoms  of  which  the  visible  universe  is  built  up 
bear  distinct  marks  of  being  manufactured  arti- 
cles; and,  secondly,  the  origin  in  time  of  the  vis- 
ible universe  is  implied  from  known  facts  with  re- 
gard to  the  dissipation  of  energy.  With  the  grad- 
ual aggregation  of  mass  the  energy  of  the  universe 
has  been  slowly  disappearing,  and  this  loss  of  en- 
ergy must  go  on  uniil  none  remains.  There  is, 
therefore,  a  point  in  time  when  the  energy  of  the 
universe  must  come  to  an  end;  and  that  which  has 
its  end  in  time  cannpt  be  infinite,  it  must  also 
have  had  a  beginning  in  time.  Hence  the  unseen 
existed  before  the  seen. 

*  "Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature,"  p.  115. 


56  IKTRODUCTION. 

There  is  nothing  so  especially  exalted  therefore 
in  the  Natural  Laws  in  themselves  as  to  make  one 
anxious  to  find  them  blood  relations  of  the  Spirit- 
ual. It  is  not  only  because  these  Laws  are  on  the 
ground,  more  accessible  therefore  to  us  who  are 
but  groundlings;  not  only,  as  the  "Unseen  Uni- 
verse "  points  out  in  another  connection,  "  because 
they  are  at  the  bottom  of  the  list — are  in  fact  the 
sim2:)lest  and  lowest — that  they  are  capable  of  be- 
ing most  readily  grasped  by  the  finite  intelligences 
of  the  universe."*  But  their  true  significance 
lies  in  the  fact  that  they  are  on  the  list  at  all,  and 
especially  in  that  the  list  is  the  same  list.  Their 
dignity  is  not  as  Natural  Laws,  but  as  Spiritual 
Laws,  Laws  which,  as  already  said,  at  one  end  are 
dealing  with  Matter,  and  at  the  other  with  Spirit. 
"The  physical  properties  of  matter  form  the  al- 
phabet which  is  put  into  our  hands  by  God,  the 
study  of  which,  if  properly  conducted,  will  enable 
us  more  perfectly  to  read  that  great  book  which 
we  call  the  '  Universe.' "f  But,  over  and  above 
this,  the  Natural  Laws  will  enable  us  to  read  that 
great  duplicate  which  we  call  the  "  Unseen  Uni- 
verse," and  to  think  and  live  in  fuller  harmony 
with  it.  After  all,  the  true  greatness  of  Law  lies 
in  its  vision  of  the  Unseen.  Law  in  the  visible  is 
the  Invisible  in  the  visible.  And  to  s|)eak  of  Laws 
as  Natural  is  to  define  them  in  their  application 
to  a  part  of  the  universe,  the  sense-part,  whereas 
a  wider  survey  would  lead  us  to  regard  all  Law  as 
essentially  Spiritual.  To  magnify  the  Laws  of 
Nature,  as  Laws  of  this  small  world  of  ours,  is  to 
take  a  provincial  view  of  the  universe.  Law  is 
great  not  because  the  phenomenal  Avorld  is  great, 
but  because  these  vanishing  lines  are  the  avenues 
into  the  eternal  Order.  "  It  is  less  reverent  to  re- 
gard the  universe  as  an  illimitable  avenue  which 
leads  up  to  God,  than  to  look  upon  it  as  a  limited 
area  bounded  by  an  impenetrable  wall,  which,  if 
we  could  only  pierce  it  would  admit  us  at  once  in- 
to the  presence  of  the  Eternal?  "J     Indeed  the 

*  6th  edition,  p.  335.       t  Ibid.,  p.  386.      %  "Unseeu  Universe,"  p.  96. 


INTRODUCTION.  07 

authors  of  the  "Unseen  Universe"  demur  even 
to  the  expression  material  iiniverse,  since,  as  they 
tell  us  "  Matter  is  (though  it  may  seem  paradoxical 
to  say  so)  the  less  important  half  of  the  material 
of  the  physical  universe."*  And  even  Mr.  Hux- 
ley, though  in  a  different  sense,  assures  us,  with 
Descartes,  "  that  we  know  more  of  mind  than  we 
do  of  body;  that  the  immaterial  world  is  a  firmer 
reality  than  the  material."! 

How  the  priority  of  the  Spiritual  improves  the 
strength  and  meaning  of  the  whole  argument  will 
be  seen  at  once.  The  lines  of  the  Spiritual  existed 
first,  and  it  was  natural  to  expect  that  when  the 
"  Intelligence  resident  in  the  'Unseen'  "  proceeded 
to  frame  the  material  universe  He  should  go  upon 
the  lines  already  laid  down.  He  would,  in  short, 
simply  project  the  higher  Laws  downward,  so  that 
the  Natural  World  would  become  an  incarnation, 
a  visible  representation,  a  working  model  of  the 
spiritual.  The  whole  function  of  the  material 
world  lies  here.  The  world  is  only  a  thing  that  is; 
it  is  not.  It  is  a  thing  that  teaches,  yet  not  even 
a  thing —  a  show  that  shows,  a  teaching  shadow. 
However  useless  the  demonstration  otherwise, 
philosophy  does  well  in  proving  that  matter  is  a 
non-entity.  AVe  work  with  it  as  the  mathemati- 
cian with  an  x.  The  reality  is  alone  the  Spiritual. 
"  It  is  very  well  for  physicists  to  speak  of  '  matter,' 
but  for  men  generally  to  call  this  '  a  material 
world '  is  an  absurdity.  Should  we  call  it  an 
a;- world  it  would  mean  as  much,  viz.,  that  wo  do 
not  know  what  it  is. "J;  When  shall  v/e  learn  the 
true  mysticism  of  one  who  was  yet  far  from  being 
a  mystic — "  We  look  not  at  the  things  which  are 
seen,  but  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen;  for  the 
things  which  are  seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things 
which  are  not  seen  are  eternal  ?  "||     The  visible  is 


*  "  Unseen  Universe,  p.  100. 

t  "Science  and  Culture,"  p.  259. 

X  Hinton's  "Philosophy  and  Keligion,"  p.  40. 

II  2  Cor.  iv.  1«. 


58  INTRODUCTION. 

the  ladder  up  to  the  invisible;  the  temporal  is  but 
the  scaflfoldiug  of  the  eternal.  And  when  the  last 
immaterial  souls  have  climbed  through  tliis  mate- 
rial to  God,  the  scalfolding  sludl  be  taken  down, 
aud  the  earth  dissolved  with  fervent  heat — not  be- 
cause it  was  base,  but  because  its  work  is  done. 


BIOGEifESIS.  59 


BIOGENESIS. 


"What  we  require  is  no  new  Revelation,  but  simply  an  adequate 
conception  of  the  true  essence  of  Christianity.  And  I  believe  that, 
as  time  goes  on,  the  woik  of  the  Holy  Spirit  will  be  continuously 
shown  in  the  gradual  insight  which  the  human  race  will  attain  into 
the  true  essence  of  the  Cihristian  religion.  I  am  thus  of  opinion  that 
a  standing  miracle  exists,  and  that  it  has  ever  existed— a  direct  and 
continued  influence  exerted  by  the  supernatural  on  the  natural."— 
Paradoxical  Philosophy. 

"He  that  hath  the  Son  hath  Life,  and  he  that  hath  not  the  Son  of 
God  hath  not  Life."— Jo^w. 

"Omne  vivum  ex  vivo." — Harvey. 

For  two  hundred  years  the  scientific  world  has 
been  rent  witli  discussions  upon  the  Origin  of 
Life.  Tv  )  great  schools  have  defended  exactly 
opposite  views — one  that  matter  can  spontaneously 
generate  life,  the  other  that  life  can  only  come 
from  preexisting  life.  The  doctrine  of  Sponta- 
neous Generation,  as  the  first  is  called,  has  been 
revived  within  recent  years  by  Dr.  Bastian,  after 
a  series  of  elaborate  experiments  on  the  Beginnings 
of  Life.  Stated  in  his  own  words,  his  conclusion 
is  this:  "Both  observation  and  experiment  un- 
mistakably testify  to  the  fact  that  living  matter 
is  constantly  being  formed  de  novo,  in  obedience 
to  the  same  laws  and  tendencies  which  determined 
all  the  more  simple  chemical  combinations."* 
Life,  that  is  to  say,  is  not  the  Gift  of  Life.  It  is 
capable  of  springing  into  being  of  itself.  It  can 
be  Spontaneously  Generated. 

This  announcement  called  into  the  field  a 
phalanx  of  observers,  and  the  highest  authorities 
in  biological  science   engaged  themselves  afresh 

*  "Beginnings  of  Life."  By  H.  C.  Bastian,  M.A.,  M.D.,  F.R.S. 
Maemillan,  vol.  ii.  p.  633. 


60  BIOGENESIS. 

upon  the  problem.  The  experiments  necessary) 
to  test  the  matter  can  be  followed  or  repeated  by 
any  one  possessing  the  slightest  manij^ulative  skill. 
Glass  vessels  are  three-parts  filled  with  infusions 
of  hay  or  any  organic  matter.  They  are  boiled  to 
kill  all  germs  of  life,  and  hermetically  sealed  to 
exclude  the  outer  air.  The  air  inside,  having 
been  exposed  to  the  boiling  temperature  for  many 
hours,  is  supposed  to  be  likewise  dead;  so  that  any 
life  which  may  subsequently  appear  in  the  closed 
flasks  must  have  sprung  into  being  of  itself.  In 
Bastian's  experiments,  after  every  expedient  to 
secure  sterility,  life  did  apjjear  inside  in  myriad 
quantity.  Therefore,  lie  argued,  it  was  sponta- 
neously generated. 

But  the  phalanx  of  observers  found  two  errors 
in  this  calculation.  Professor  Tyndall  repeated 
the  same  experiment,  only  with  a  precaution  to 
insure  absolute  sterility  suggested  by  the  most 
recent  science — a  discovery  of  his  own.  After 
every  care,  he  conceived  there  might  still  be 
undestroyed  germs  in  the  air  inside  the  flasks.  If 
the  air  were  absolutely  germless  and  pure,  would 
the  myriad-life  appear?  He  manipulated  his 
experimental  vessels  in  an  atmosphere  which 
under  the  high  test  of  optical  purity — the  most 
delicate  known  test — was  absolutely  germless. 
Here  not  a  vestige  of  life  appeared.  He  varied 
the  experiment  in  every  direction,  but  matter  in 
the  germless  air  never  yielded  life. 

The  other  error  was  detected  by  Mr.  Dallinger. 
He  found  among  the  lower  forms  of  life  the  most 
surprising  and  indestructible  vitality.  Many 
animals  could  survive  much  higher  temperatures 
than  Dr.  Bastian  had  applied  to  annihilate  them. 
Some  germs  almost  refused  to  be  annihilated — 
they  were  all  but  fire-proof. 

These  experiments  have  practically  closed  the 
question.  A  decided  and  authoritative  conclusion 
has  now  taken  its  place  in  science.  So  far  as 
science  can  settle  anything,  this  question  is 
settled.  The  attempt  to  get  the  living  out  of  the 
dead   has  failed.      Spontaneous   Generation   has 


BIOGENESIS.  Gl 

had  to  be  given  up.  A)\d  it  is  now  recognized  on 
every  hand  that  Life  can  only  come  from  the 
touch  of  Life.  Huxley  categorically  announces 
that  the  doctrine  of  Biogenesis,  or  lii'e  only  from 
life,  is  ''victorious  along  the  whole  line  at  the 
present  day."*  And  even  while  confessing  that 
he  wishes  the  evidence  were  the  other  way, 
Tyndall  is  compelled  to  say,  "I  affirm  that  no 
siired  of  trustworthy  experimental  testimony 
exists  to  prove  that  life  in  our  day  has  ever  ap- 
peared independently  of  antecedent  life. "f 

For  much  more  than  two  hundred  years  a  sim- 
ilar discussion  has  dragged  its  length  through  the 
religious  world.  Two  great  schools  here  also  have 
defended  exactly  opposite  views — one  that  the 
Spiritual  Life  in  man  can  only  come  from  pre- 
existing Life,  the  otlier  that  it  can  Spontaneously 
G-enerate  itself.  Taking  its  stand  upon  the  initial 
statement  of  the  Author  of  the  Spiritual  Life,  one 
small  school,  in  the  face  of  derision  and  opposi- 
tion, has  persistently  maintained  the  doctrine  of 
Biogenesis.  Another,  larger  and  with  greater 
pretension  to  philosophic  form,  has  defended 
Spontaneous  Generation.  The  weakness  of  the 
former  school  consists — though  this  has  been 
much  exaggerated — in  its  more  or  less  general 
adherence  to  the  extreme  view  that  religion  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  natural  life;  the  weakness 
of  the  latter  lay  in  yielding  to  the  more  fatal 
extreme  that  it  had  nothing  to  do  with  anything 
else.  That  man,  being  a  worshiping  animal  by 
nature,  ought  to  maintain  certain  relations  to  the 
Supreme  Being,  was  indeed  to  some  extent  con- 
ceded by  the  naturalistic  school,  but  religion 
itself  we  looked  upon  as  a  thing  to  be  sponta- 
neously generated  by  the  evolution  of  character  in 
the  laboratory  of  common  life. 

The  difference  between  the  two  positions  is 
radical.  Translating  from  the  language  of 
Science    into   that    of    Religion,    the    theory   of 

*  "Critiques  and  Addresses."    T.  H.  Huxley,  F.R.S.,  p.  839. 
t  Nineteenth  Century,  1878,  p.  507. 


62  BIOGENESIS. 

Spontaneous  Generation  is  simply  that  a  man 
may  become  gradually  better  and  better  until  in 
course  of  the  process  he  reaches  that  quantity  of 
religious  nature  known  as  Spiritual  Life.  This 
Life  is  not  something  added  ab  extra  to  the 
natural  man;  it  is  the  normal  and  appropriate 
development  of  the  natural  man.  Biogenesis 
opposes  to  this  the  whole  doctrine  of  Regeneration. 
The  Spiritual  Life  is  the  gift  of  the  Living  Spirit. 
The  spiritual  man  is  no  mere  development  of  the 
natural  num.  He  is  a  New  Creation  born  from 
Above.  As  well  expect  a  hay  infusion  to  become 
gradually  more  and  more  living  until  in  course  of 
the  process  it  reached  Vitality,  as  expect  a  man 
by  becoming  better  and  better  to  attain  the  Eter- 
nal Life. 

The  advocates  of  Biogenesis  in  Religion  have 
founded  their  argument  hitherto  all  but  exclu- 
sively on  Scripture.  The  relation  of  the  doctrine 
to  the  constitution  and  course  of  Nature  was  not 
disclosed.  Its  importance,  therefore,  was  solely 
as  a  dogma  ;  and  being  directly  concerned  with 
the  Supernatural,  it  was  valid  for  those  alone  who 
chose  to  accept  the  Supernatural. 

Yet  it  has  been  keenly  felt  by  those  who  attempt 
to  defend  this  doctrine  oi'  the  origin  of  the  Spiritual 
Life,  that  they  have  nothing  more  to  oppose  to  the 
rationalistic  view  than  the  ipse  dixit  of  Revelation. 
The  argument  from  experience,  in  the  nature  of 
the  case,  is  seldom  easy  to  apply,  and  Christianity 
has  always  found  at  this  point  a  genuine  difficulty 
in  meeting  the  challenge  of  Natural  Religions. 
The  direct  authority  of  Nature,  using  Nature  in 
its  limited  sense,  was  not  here  to  be  sought  for. 
On  such  a  question  its  voice  was  necessarily  silent ; 
and  till  that  the  apologist  could  look  for  lower  down 
was  a  distant  echo  or  analogy.  All  that  is  really 
possible,  indeed,  is  such  an  analogy ;  and  if  that 
can  now  be  found  in  Biogenesis,  Christianity  in 
its  most  central  jjosition  secures  at  length  a  sup- 
port and  basis  in  the  Laws  of  Nature. 

Up  to  the  present  time  the  analogy  required  has 
not  been  fortlicoming.     There  was  no  known  par- 


BIOGENESIS.  63 

allel  in  Nature  for  the  spiritual  phenomena  in 
question.  But  now  the  case  is  altered.  AVith  the 
elevation  of  Biogenesis  to  the  rank  of  a  scientific 
i'act,  all  problems  concei'ning  tlie  Origin  of  Life 
are  placed  on  a  different  footing.  And  it  remains 
to  be  seen  whether  Religion  cannot  at  once  re- 
affirm and  rc-.ihape  its  argument  in  the  light  of 
this  modern  truth. 

If  the  doctrine  of  the  Spontaneous  Generation 
of  Spiritual  Life  can  be  met  on  scientific  grounds, 
it  will  mean  the  removal  of  the  most  serious 
enemy  Christianity  has  to  deal  with,  and  especi- 
ally within  its  own  borders,  at  the  present  day. 
The  religion  of  Jesus  has  probably  always  suffered 
more  from  those  who  have  misunderstood  than 
from  those  who  have  opposed  it.  Of  the  multi- 
tudes who  confess  Christianity  at  this  hour  how 
many  have  clear  in  their  minds  the  cardinal 
distinction  established  by  its  Founder  between 
"born  of  the  flesh"  and  "born  of  tlije  Spirit?" 
By  how  many  teachers  of  Christianity  even  is  not 
this  fundamental  postulate  persistently  ignored? 
A  thousand  modern  pulpits  every  seventh  day  are 
preaching  the  doctrine  of  Spontaneous  Generation. 
The  finest  and  best  of  recent  poetry  is  colored 
with  this  same  error.  Spontaneous  Generation 
is  the  leading  theology  of  the  modern  religious  or 
irreligious  novel;  and  much  of  the  most  serious 
and  cultured  writing  of  the  day  devotes  itself  to 
earnest  preaching  of  this  impossible  gospel.  The 
current  conception  of  the  Christian  religion  in 
short — the  conception  Avliich  is  held  not  only 
popularly  but  by  men  of  culture — is  founded  upon 
a  view  of  its  origin  which,  if  it  were  true,  would 
render  the  whole  scheme  abortive. 

Let  us  first  place  vividly  in  our  imagination  the 
picture  of  the  two  great  Kingdoms  of  Nature,  the 
inorganic  and  organic,  as  these  now  stand  in  the 
light  of  the  Law  of  Biogenesis.  What  essentially 
is  involved  in  saying  that  there  is  no  Spontaneous 
Generation  of  Life?  It  is  meant  that  the  passage 
from  the  mineral  world  to  the  plant  or  animal 
world  is  hermetically  sealed  on  the  mineral  side. 


64  BIOGENESIS. 

This  inorganic  world  is  staked  oir  from  the  living 
world  by  barriers  which  have  never  yet  been 
crossed  from  wiciiin.  No  change  of  substance, 
no  modification  of  environment,  no  chemistry,  no 
electricity,  nor  any  form  of  energy,  nor  any  evo- 
lution can  endow  any  single  atom  of  the  mineral 
world  with  the  attribute  of  Life.  Only  by  the 
bending  down  into  this  dead  world  of  some  living 
form  can  these  dead  atoms  be  gifted  with  the 
properties  of  vitality,  without  this  preliminary 
contact  with  Life  they  remain  fixed  in  the  inor- 
ganic sphere  forever.  It  is  a  very  mysterious 
Law  which  guards  in  this  way  the  portals  of  the 
living  world.  And  if  there  is  one  thing  in 
Nature  more  worth  pondering  for  its  strangeness 
it  is  the  spectacle  of  this  vast  helpless  world 
of  the  dead  cut  off  from  the  living  by  the  Law 
of  Biogenesis  and  denied  forever  the  possi- 
bility of  resurrection  within  itself.  So  very 
strange  a  thing,  indeed,  is  this  broad  line  in 
Nature,  that  Science  has  long  and  urgently 
sought  to  obliterate  it.  Biogenesis  stands  in  the 
way  of  some  forms  of  Evolution  with  such  stern 
persistency  that  the  assualts  upon  this  Law  for 
number  and  thoroughness  have  been  unparalleled. 
But,  as  we  have  seen,  it  has  stood  the  test. 
Nature,  to  thq  taodern  eye,  stands  broken  in  two. 
The  physical  Laws  may  explain  the  inorganic 
world;  the  biological  Laws  may  account  for  the 
development  of  the  organic.  But  of  the  point 
where  they  meet,  of  that  strange  borderland 
between  the  dead  and  the  living,  Science  is  silent. 
It  is  as  if  God  had  placed  everything  in  earth 
and  heaven  in  the  hands  of  Nature,  but  reserved  a 
point  at  the  genesis  of  Life  for  His  direct  appear- 
ing. 

The  power  of  the  analogy,  for  which  we  are 
laying  the  foundations,  to  seize  and  impress  the 
mind,  will  largely  depend  on  the  vividness  with 
which  one  realizes  the  gulf  which  Nature  places 
between   the  living  and  the   dead.*      But  those 

*  This  being  the  crucial    point  it  may  not  be  inapproi)riate  to 


BIOGENESIS.  65 

wlio,  in  contemplating  Xature,  have  found  their 
attention  arrested  by  this  extraordinary  dividing- 
Jine  severing  the  visible  universe  eternally  into 
two;  those  who  in  watching  the  progress  of 
science  have  seen  barrier  after  barrier  disappear — • 
barrier  between  plant  and  plant,  between  animal 
an  I  animal,  and  even  between  animal  and  plant 
— but  this  gulf  yawn  more  hopelessly  wide  Avith 
every  advance  of  knowledge,  will  be  prepared  to 
attach  a  significance  to  the  Law  of  Biogenesis 
and  its  analogies  more  profound  perhaps  than  to 
any  other  fact  or  law  in  Nature.  If,  as  Pascal 
says.  Nature  is  an  image  of  grace;  if  the  things 
that  are  seen  are  in  any  sense  the  images  of  the 
unseen,  there  must  lie  in  this  great  gulf  fixed,  this 
most  unique  and  startling  of  all  natural  phenom- 
ena, a  meaning  of  peculiar  moment. 

Where  now  in  the  Sjiiritual  spheres  shall  we 
meet  a  companion  phenomena  to  this?  What  in 
the  Unseen  shall  be  likened  to  this  deep  dividing- 
line,  or  where  in  human  experience  is  another 
barrier  which  never  can  be  crossed? 

There  is  such  a  barrier.  In  the  dim  but  not 
inadequate  vision  of  the  Spiritual  World  presented 
in  the  Word  of  God,  the  first  thing  that  strikes 
the  eye  is  a  great  gulf  fixed.  The  passage  from 
the  Natural  World  to  the  Spiritual  World  is  her- 
metically sealed  on  the  natural  side.     The  door 

supplement  the  quotations  already  given  in  the  text  with  the  follow- 
ing:— 

"We  are  in  the  presence  of  the  one  incommunicable  gulf — the  gulf 
of  all  gulfs — that  gulf  which  Mr.  Huxley's  protoplasm  is  as  powerless 
to  efface  as  any  other  materia!  expedient  that  has  ever  been  suggested 
since  the  eyes  of  men  first  looked  into  it — the  mighty  gulf  between 
death  and  life." — "As  Regards  Protoplasm."  By  J7  Hutchinson  Stir- 
ling, LL.D.,  p.  42. 

"The  present  state  of  knowledge  furnishes  us  with  no  link  between 
the  living  and  the  not-living." — Huxley,  "Encyclopsedia  IJritannica" 
(new  Etl.).    Art.  "Biology. 

"Whoever  recalls  to  mind  the  lamentable  failure  of  all  the  attempts 
made  very  recently  to  discover  a  decided  support  for  the  geiieratio 
<pquiroca  in  the  lower  forms  of  transition  from  the  inorganic  to  the 
organic  world,  will  feel  it  doubly  serious  to  demand  that  this  theory, 
so  utterly  discredited,  should  be  in  any  way  accepted  as  the  basis  of 
all  our  views  of  life."— Virchow:  "The  Freedom  of  Science  in  the 
Modern  Slate." 

"All  really  scientific  experience  tells  us  that  life  can  be  produced 
from  a  living  antecedent  only."— "The  Unseen  Universe."    6th  Ed. 

p.  aa'j. 


66  BIOGENESIS. 

from  the  inorganic  to  the  organic  is  shut,  no 
mineral  can  open  it;  so  tlie  door  from  tlie  natural 
to  the  spiritual  is  shut,  and  no  man  can  open  it. 
This  world  of  natural  men  is  staked  off  from  the 
Spiritual  World  by  barriers  which  have  never  yet 
been  crossed  from  within.  No  organic  change, 
no  raodification  of  environment,  no  mental  energy, 
no  moral  effort,  no  evolution  of  character,  no 
])iogress  of  civilization  can  endow  any  single  hu- 
man soul  with  the  attribute  of  Spiritual  Life. 
Tiie  Spiritual  World  is  guarded  from  the  world 
next  in  order  beneath  it  by  a  law  of  Biogenesis — 
except  a  man  he  horn  again  .  .  .  except  a 
man  be  born  of  water  and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot 
enter  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

It  is  not  said,  in  this  enunciation  of  the  law, 
that  if  the  condition  be  not  fulfilled  the  natural 
man  will  not  enter  the  Kingdom  of  God.  The 
word  is  cannot.  For  the  exclusion  of  the  spiritu- 
ally inorganic  from  the  Kingdom  of  the  spiritually 
organic  is  not  arbitrary.  Nor  is  the  natural  man 
refused  admission  on  unexplained  grounds.  His 
admission  is  a  scientific  impossibility.  Except  a 
mineral  be  born  "from  above" — from  the  King- 
dom just  above  it — it  cannot  enter  the  Kingdom 
just  above  it.  And  except  a  man  be  born  "from 
above,"  by  the  same  law,  he  cannot  enter  the 
Kingdom  just  above  him.  There  being  no  pas- 
sage from  one  Kingdom  to  another,  whether  from 
inorganic  to  organic,  or  from  organic  to  spiritual, 
the  intervention  of  Life  is  a  scientific  necessity 
if  a  stone  or  a  plant  or  an  animal  or  a  man  is  to 
pass  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  sphere.  The  plant 
stretches  down  to  the  dead  world  beneath  it, 
touches  its  minerals  and  gases  with  its  mystery  of 
Life,  and  brings  them  up  ennobled  and  trans- 
formed to  the  living  sphere.  The  breath  of  God, 
blowing  where  it  listeth,  touches  with  its  mystery 
of  Life  the  dead  souls  of  men,  bears  them  across 
the  bridgeless  gulf  between  the  natural  and  the 
spiritual,  between  the  spiritually  inorganic  and 
the  spiritually  organic,  endows  them  with  its  own 
high  qualities,  ancl  develops  within  them   these 


BIOGEJiTESIS.  67 

new  and  secret  faculties,  by  which  those  who  are 
born  again  are  said  to  see  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

AVhat  is  the  evidence  for  this  great  gulf  fixed 
at  the  portals  of  the  Spiritual  World?  Does 
Science  close  this  gate,  or  Reason,  or  Experience, 
or  Revelation?  We  reply,  all  four.  The  initial 
statement,  it  is  not  to  be  denied,  reaches  us  from 
Revelation.  But  is  not  this  evidence  here  in 
court?  Or  shall  it  be  said  that  any  argument  de- 
duced from  this  is  a  transparent  circle — that  after 
all  we  simply  come  back  to  the  unsubstantiality 
of  the  ijjse  dixit?  Xot  altogether,  for  the  analogy 
lends  an  altogether  new  authority  to  the  ijjse 
dixit.  How  substantial  that  argument  really  is, 
is  seldom  realized.  We  yield  the  point  here  much 
too  easily.  The  right  of  the  Spiritual  World  to 
speak  of  its  own  phenomena  is  as  secure  as  the 
right  of  the  Xatural  World  to  speak  of  itself. 
W  hat  is  Science  but  what  the  Natural  World  has 
said  to  natural  men?  What  is  Revelation  but 
what  the  Spiritual  World  has  said  to  Spiritual 
men?  Let  us  at  least  ask  what  Revelation  has 
announced  with  reference  to  this  Spiritual  Law 
of  Biogenesis;  afterward  we  shall  inquire  whether 
Science,  while  indorsing  the  verdict,  may  not  also 
have  some  further  vindication  of  its  title  to  be 
heard. 

The  words  of  Scripture  which  preface  this  in- 
quiry contain  an  explicit  and  original  statement  of 
the  Law  of  Biogenesis  for  the  Spiritual  Life. 
' '  He  that  hath  the  Son  hath  Life,  and  he  that 
hath  not  the  Son  of  God  hath  not  Life."  Life, 
that  is  to  say,  depends  upon  contact  with  Life.  It 
cannot  spring  up  of  itself.  It  cannot  develop  out 
of  anything  that  is  not  Life.  There  is  no  Spon- 
taneous Generation  in  religion  any  more  than  in 
Nature.  Christ  is  the  source  of  Life  in  the  Spirit- 
ual World;  and  he  that  hath  the  Son  hath  Life, 
and  he  that  hath  not  the  Son,  whatever  else  he 
may  have,  hath  not  Life.  Here,  in  short,  is  the 
categorical  denial  of  Abiogenesis  and  the  estab- 
lishment in  this  high  field  of  the  classical  formula 
Omne  vivum  ex  vivo — no  Life  without  antecedent 


68  BIOGENESIS. 

Life.  In  this  raystictil  theory  of  the  Origin  of 
Life  the  whole  of  the  New  Testament  writers  are 
agreed.  And,  as  we  have  already  seen,  (Jhrist 
Himself  founds  Christianit}-  upon  Biogenesis 
stated  in  its  most  literal  form.  "  Except  a  man 
be  born  of  water  and  of  the  Spirit  he  cannot  enter 
into  the  Kingdom  of  God.  That  which  is  born  of 
the  flesh  is  flesh;  and  that  which  is  born  of  the 
Spirit  is  Spirit.  Marvel  not  that  I  said  unto  you, 
ye  must  be  born  again."*  Why  did  He  add 
Marvel  not  ?  Did  He  seek  to  allay  the  fear  in  the 
bewildered  ruler's  mind  that  there  was  more  in 
this  novel  doctrine  than  a  simple  analogy  from 
the  first  to  the  second  birth? 

The  attitude  of  the  natural  man,  again,  with 
reference  to  the  Spiritual,  is  a  subject  on  which 
the  New  Testamen.t  is  equally  pronounced.  Not 
only  in  his  relation  to  the  spiritual  man,  but  to 
the  whole  Spiritual  World,  the  natural  man  is  re- 
garded as  dead.  He  is  as  a  crystal  to  an  organism. 
The  natural  world  is  to  the  Spiritual  as  the  inor- 
ganic to  the  organic.  "  To  be  carnally  minded  is 
Death.'' ^\  "Thou  hast  a  name  to  live,  but  art 
Dead." I  "She  that  liveth  in  pleasure  is  Dead 
while  she  liveth.  "§  "  To  you  he  Hath  given  Life 
which  were  Dead  in  trespasses  and  sins."|| 

It  is  clear  that  a  remarkable  harmony  exists  here 
between  the  Organic  World  as  arranged  by  Science 
and  the  Spiritual  World  as  arranged  by  Scripture. 
AVe  find  one  great  Law  guar«ling  the  thresholds  of 
both  worlds,  securing  that  entrance  from  a  lower 
sphere  shall  only  take  place  by  a  direct  regenera- 
ting act,  and  that  emanating  from  the  world  next 
in  order  above.  There  are  not  two  laws  of  Biogen- 
esis, one  for  the  natural,  the  other  for  the  Spirit- 
ual; one  law  is  for  both.  Wherever  there  is  Life, 
Life  of  any  kind,  this  same  law  holds.  The  anal- 
ogy, therefore,  is  only  among  the  phenomena;  be- 
tween laws  there  is  no  analogy — there  is  Continit- 
ity.     In   either  case,   the  first   step   in   peopling 

*  John  iii.       t  Rom.  viii.  6.        t  Rev.  iii.  1.       g  1  Tim.  v.  6. 
II  Eph.  ii.  1,  5. 


BIOGENESIS.  69 

these  woi'lds  with  the  appropriate  living  forms  is 
virtually  miracle.  Nor  in  one  case  is  there  less  of 
mystery  in  the  act  than  in  the  other.  The  second 
birth  is  scarcely  less  pei-plexing  to  the  theologian 
than  the  first  to  the  embryologist. 

A  moment's  reflection  ought  now  to  make  it 
clear  why  in  the  Spiritual  World  there  had  to  be 
added  to  this  mystery  the  further  mystery  of  its 
proclamation  through  tbe  medium  of  Revelation. 
This  is  the  point  at  which  the  scientific  man  is 
apt  to  part  company  with  the  theologian.  He  in- 
sists on  having  all  things  materialized  before  his 
eyes  in  N'a':ure.  If  Nature  cannot  d  iscuss  this  with 
him,  there  is  nothing  to  discuss.  But  Nature  can 
discuss  this  with  him — only  she  cannot  open  the 
discussion  or  supply  all  the  material  to  begin  with. 
If  Science  averred  that  she  could  do  this,  the  the- 
ologian this  time  must  part  company  with  such 
Science.  For  any  Science  which  makes  such  a  de- 
mand is  false  to  the  doctrines  of  Biogenesis.  What 
is  this  but  the  demand  that  a  lower  world,  her- 
metically sealed  against  all  communication  with  a 
world  above  it,  should  have  a  mature  and  intelli- 
gent acquaintance  with  its  phenomena  and  laws? 
Can  the  mineral  discourse  to  me  of  animal  Life? 
Can  it  tell  me  what  lies  beyond  the  narrow  boun 
dary  of  its  inert  being?  Knowing  nothing  o 
other  than  the  chemical  and  physical  laws,  w^hat 
is  its  criticism  worth  of  the  principles  of  Biology? 
And  even  when  some  visitor  from  the  upper  world, 
for  example  some  root  from  a  living  tree,  pene- 
trating its  dark  recess,  honors  it  with  a  touch,  will 
it  presume  to  define  the  form  and  purpose  of  its 
patron,  or  until  the  bioplasm  has  done  its  gracious 
work  can  it  even  know  that  it  is  being  touched? 
The  barrier  which  separates  Kingdoms  from  one 
another  restricts  mind  not  less  than  matter.  Any 
information  of  the  Kingdoms  above  it  that  could 
come  to  the  mineral  world  could  only  come  by  a 
communication  from  above.  An  analogy  from  the 
low^r  world  might  make  such  communication  in- 
telligible as  well  as  credible,  but  the  information 
in  the  first  instance  must  be  vouchsafed  as  a  i-eve- 


70  BIOGENESIS. 

lation.  Similarly  if  those  in  the  organic  King- 
dom are  to  know  anything  of  the  Spiritual  World, 
that  knowledge  must  at  least  begin  as  Eevelation. 
Men  who  reject  this  source  of  information,  by  the 
Law  of  Biogenesis,  can  have  no  other.  It  is  no 
spell  of  ignorance  arbitrarily  laid  upon  certain 
members  of  the  Organic  Kingdom  that  prevents 
them  reading  the  secrets  of  the  Spiritual  World. 
It  is  a  scientific  necessity.  Ko  exposition  of  the 
case  could  be  more  truly  scientific  than  this :  ' '  The 
natural  man  receiveth.not  the  things  of  the  Spirit 
of  God;  for  they  are  foolishness  unto  him:  neitlier 
can  he  know  them,  because  they  are  spiritually 
discerned."*  The  verb  here,  it  will  be  again  ob- 
served, is  potential.  This  is  not  a  dogma  of  theol- 
ogy, but  a  necessity  of  Science.  And  Science,  for 
the  most  part,  has  consistently  accepted  the  situa- 
tion. It  has  always  proclaimed  its  ignorance  of 
the  Spiritual  World.  When  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer 
affirms,  "  Regarding  Science  as  a  gradually  in- 
creasing sphere  we  may  say  that  every  addition  to 
its  surface  does  but  bring  it  into  wider  contact 
with  surrounding  nescience, "f  from  his  stand- 
point he  is  quite  correct.  The  endeavors  of  well- 
meaning  persons  to  show  that  the  Agnostic's_  po- 
sition, when  he  asserts  his  ignorance  of  the  Spirit- 
ual World,  is  only  a  pretence;  the  attempts  to 
prove  that  he  really  knows  a  great  deal  about  it  if 
he  would  only  admit  it,  are  quite  misplaced.  He 
really  does  not  know.  The  verdict  that  the  nat- 
ural man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  that  they  are  foolishness  unto  him,  that 
neither  can  he  know  them,  is  final  as  a  statement 
of  scientific  truth — a  statement  on  which  the  en- 
tire Agnostic  literature  is  simply  one  long  com- 
mentary. 

We  are  now  in  a  better  position  to  follow  out 
the  more  practical  bearings  of  Biogenesis.  There 
is  an  immense  region  surrounding  Eegeneration, 
a  dark  and  perplexing  region  where  men  would  be 
thankful  for  any  light.     It  may  well  be  that  Bio 

*  1  Car.  ii.  14.  t  "First  Priuciples,"  3d  Ed.,  p.  17. 


BIOGENESIS.  VI 

genesis  in  its  many  ramifications  may  yet  reach 
down  to  some  of  the  deeper  mysteries  of  the  Spi- 
ritual Life.  But  meantime  tliere  is  much  to  define 
even  on  the  surface.  And  for  the  present  we  sliall 
content  ourselves  by  turning  its  light  upon  one 
or  two  points  of  current  interest. 

It  must  long  ago  have  appeared  how  decisive  ia 
the  answer  of  Science  to  the  practical  question 
with  which  we  set  out  as  to  the  possibility  of  a 
Spontaneous  Development  of  Spiritual  Life  in  the 
individual  soul.  The  inquiry  into  the  Origin  of 
J^ife  is  the  fundamental  question  alike  of  Biology 
and  Christianity.  We  can  afford  to  enlarge  upon 
it,  therefore,  even  at  the  risk  of  repetition.  When 
men  are  offering  us  a  Christianity  without  a  living 
Sjiirit,  and  a  personal  religion  without  conversion, 
no  emphasis  or  reiteration  can  be  extreme.  Be- 
sides, the  clearness  as  well  as  the  definiteness  of 
the  Testimony  of  Nature  to  any  Spiritual  truth  is 
of  immense  importance.  Regeneration  has  not 
merely  been  an  outstanding  difficulty,  but  an  over- 
whelming obscurity.  Even  to  earnest  minds  the 
difficulty  of  grasping  the  truth  at  all  has  always 
proved  extreme.  Philosophically  one  scarcely  sees 
either  the  necessity  or  the  possibility  of  being  born 
again.  Why  a  virtuous  man  should  not  simply 
grow  better  and  better  until  in  his  own  right  he 
enter  the  Kingdom  of  God  is  what  thousands 
honestly  and  seriously  fail  to  understand.  Now 
Philosophy  cannot  help  us  here.  Her  arguments 
are,  if  anything,  against  us.  But  Science  answers 
to  the  appeal  at  once.  If  it  be  simply  pointed  out 
that  this  is  the  same  absurdity  as  to  ask  why  a 
stone  should  not  grow  more  and  more  living  till  it 
enters  the  Organic  World,  the  point  is  clear  in  an 
instant. 

AVhat  now,  let  us  ask  specifically,  distinguishes 
a  Christian  man  from  a  non-Christian  man?  Is  it 
that  he  has  certain  mental  characteristics  not  pos- 
sessed 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 


72  BIOGEKESIS. 

mail  who  happens  from  birth  to  have  been  sur- 
rounded with  a  peculiar  set  of  ideas?  Is  his  re- 
ligion merely  that  peculiar  quality  of  the  moi-al 
life  defined  by  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold  as  "  morality 
touched  by  emotion?"  And  does  the  possession 
of  a  high  "ideal,  benevolent  sympathies,  a  reverent 
spirit,  and  a  favorable  environment  account  for 
rv^hat  men  call  his  Spiritual  Life? 

The  distinction  between  them  is  the  same  as 
that  between  the  Organic  and  the  Inorganic,  the 
living  and  the  dead.  What  is  the  diiferencc 
between  a  crystal  and  an  organism,  a  stone  and  ;i 
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  mysterious 
something  called  Life.  This  Life  is  not  some- 
thing 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  some- 
thing 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  somethiug  orig- 
inal and  unique — unique  at  least  as  compared 
with  the  mineral.  From  animal  Life  we  ascend 
again  to  Spiritual  Life.  And  here  also  is  some- 
thing 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  distinct  in  point  of  fact  than  is  the  plant 
from  the  stone.  This  is  the  one  possible  com- 
parison in  Nature,  for  it  is  the  widest  _  dis- 
tinction in  Nature  ;  but  compared  with  the  differ- 
ence between  the  Natural  and  the  Spiritual  the 
gulf  which  divides  the    orgnnic  from    the   inor- 


BIOGEJSTESIS.  73 

ganic  is  a  liuir's-breadth.  The  natural  man 
belongs  essentially  to  this  present  order  of  things. 
He  is  endowed  sinipl}-  with  a  high  quality  of  the 
natural  animal  Life.  But  it  is  Life  of  so  poor 
a  quality  that  it  is  not  Life  at  all.  He  that  hath 
not  the  Son  hath  not  Life;  but  he  that  hath  the 
Son  hath  Life — a  new  and  distinct  and  super- 
natural endowment.  He  is  not  of  this  world. 
He  is  of  the  timeless  state,  of  Eternity.  It  doth 
not  yet  appear  ichat  he  shall  he. 

'J'he  difference  between  the  Spiritual  man  and 
the  Natural  man  is  not  a  ditference  of  develop- 
ment, but  of  generation.  It  is  a  distinction  of 
quality  not  of  quantity.  A  man  cannot  rise  by 
any  natural  development  from  "morality  touched 
by  emotion,"  to  "morality  touched  by  Life.^' 
Were  we  to  construct  a  scientific  classification, 
Science  would  compel  us  to  arrange  all  natural 
men,  moral  or  immoral,  educated  or  vulgar,  as 
one  family.  One  might  be  high  in  the  family 
group,  another  low;  yet,  practically,  they  are 
marked  by  the  same  set  of  characteristics — they 
eat,  sleep,  work,  think,  live,  die.  But  the 
Sj^iritual  man  is  removed  from  this  family  so 
utterly  by  the  possession  of  an  additional 
characteristic  that  a  biologist,  fully  informed  of 
the  whole  circumstances,  would  not  hesitate  a 
moment  to  classify  him  elsewhere.  And  if  he 
really  entered  into  these  circumstances  it  would 
not  be  in  another  family  but  in  another  Kingdom. 
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  Living  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. 
It  is  a  scientific  distinction.  "He  that  hath  not 
the  Son  hath  not  Life." 

Now  it  is  this  great  Law  which  finally  distin- 
guishes Christianity  from  all  other  religions.     It 


74  BIOGENESIS. 

places  the  religion  of  Christ  iijDon  a  footing 
altogether  unique.  There  is  no  analogy  between 
the  Christian  religion  and,  say,  Buddhism  or  the 
Mohammedan  religion.  There  is  no  true  sense 
in  which  a  man  can  say,  He  that  hath  Buddha 
hath  Life.  Buddha  has  nothing  to  do  with  Life. 
He  may  have  something  to  do  with  morality.  He 
may  stimulate,  impress,  teach,  guide,  but  there 
is  no  distinct  new  thing  added  to  the  souls  of 
those  who  profess  Buddhism.  These  religions 
may  be  develojmients  of  the  natural,  mental,  or 
moral  man.  But  Christianity  professes  to  be 
more.  It  is  the  mental  or  moral  man  j^lus  some- 
thing else  or  some  One  else.  It  is  the  infusion 
into  the  Spiritual  man  of  a  New  Life,  of  a  quality 
unlike  anything  else  in  Nature.  This  constitutes 
the  separate  Kingdom  of  Christ,  and  gives  to 
Christianity  alone  of  all  the  religions  of  mankind 
the  strange  mark  of  Divinity. 

Shall  we  next  inquire  more  precisely  what  is 
this  something  extra  which  constitutes  Spiritual 
Life?  What  is  this  strange  and  new  endowment 
in  its  nature  and  vital  essence?  And  the  answer 
is  brief — it  is  Christ.  He  that  hath  the  Son  hath 
Life. 

Are  we  forsaking  the  lines  of  Science  in  saying 
so?  Yes  and  No.  Science  has  drawn  for  us  the 
distinction.  It  has  no  voice  as  to  the  nature  of 
the  distinction  except  this — that  the  new  endow- 
ment is  a  something  different  from  anything  else 
with  which  it  deals.  It  is  not  ordinary  Vitality, 
it  is  not  intellectual,  it  is  not  moral,  but  some- 
thing beyond.  And  Eevelation  steps  in  and 
names  what  it  is — it  is  Christ.  Out  of  the 
multitude  of  sentences  where  this  announcement 
is  made,  these  few  may  be  selected:  "Know  ye 
not  your  own  selves  how  that  Jesus  Christ  is  in 
you?'''*  "Your  bodies  are  the  members  of 
Christ,  "f  "At  that  day  ye  shall  know  that  I  am 
in  the  Father,  and  ye  in  Me,  and  I  in  yen. "J 
•'We  Avill  come  unto   him  and  make  our  abode 

*  2  Cor.  xii.  5.  1 1  Cor.  vi.  15.  t  Johu  xiv.  10. 


BIOGENESTS.  75 

with  him."*  "I  am  the  Vine,  ye  are  the 
branches,  "f  "I  am  crucified  with  Christ,  never- 
theless I  live,  yet  not   I,   but  Christ   liveth   iu 

Three  things  are  clear  from  these  statements: 
First,  They  are  not  mere  figures  of  rhetoric. 
They  are  explicit  declarations.  If  language 
means  anything  these  words  announce  a  literal 
fact.  In  some  of  Christ's  own  statements  the 
literalism  is  if  possible  still  more  impressive.  For 
instance,  "Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of 
man  and  drink  His  blood,  ye  have  no  life  in  yon. 
Whoso  eatetli  My  flesh  and  drinketh  My  blood 
hath  eternal  life;  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at  the 
last  day.  For  My  flesh  is  meat  indeed,  and  My 
blood  is  drink  indeed.  He  that  eateth  My  flesh 
and  drinketh  My  blood  clwelleth  in  Me  and  I  in 
hifii." 

In  the  second  place.  Spiritual  Life  is  not 
something  outside  ourselves.  The  idea  is  not 
that  Christ  is  in  heaven  and  that  we  can  stretch 
out  some  mysterious  faculty  and  deal  with  Him 
there.  This  is  the  vague  form  in  which  many 
conceive  the  truth,  but  it  is  contrary  to  Christ's 
teaching  and  to  the  analogy  of  nature.  Vegetable 
Life  is  not  contained  in  a  reservoir  somewhere  in 
the  skies,  and  measnred  out  spasmodically  at 
certain  seasons.  The  Life  is  in  every  plant  and 
tree,  inside  its  own  substance  and  tissue,  and 
continues  there  until  it  dies.  This  localization 
of  Life  in  the  individual  is  precisely  the  point 
where  Vitality  differs  from  the  other  forces  of 
nature,  such  as  magnetism  and  electricity.  Vital- 
ity has  much  in  common  with  such  forces  as  mag- 
netism and  electricity,  but  there  is  one  inviolable 
distinction  between  them — that  Life  is  perma- 
nently fixed  and  rooted  in  the  organism.  The 
doctrines  of  conservation  and  transformation  of 
energy,  that  is  to  say,  do  not  hold  for  Vitality. 
The  electrician  can  demagnetize  a  bar  of  iron, 
that  is,  he  can  transform  its  energy  of  magnetism 

*  John  xiv.  31-3a       t  John  xv.  4,  %  Gal.  ii,  aO. 


76  niOGEJs^ESIS. 

into  something  else — heat,  or  motion,  or  light— 
and  then  re-form  these  back  into  magnetism. 
For  magnetism  has  no  root,  no  individuality,  no 
fixed  indwelling.  But  the  biologist  cannot  devi- 
talize a  plant  or  an  animal  and  revivify  it  again.* 
Life  is  not  one  of  the  homeless  forces  which 
promiscuously  inhabit  space,  or  which  can  be 
gathered  like  electricity  from  the  clouds  and 
dissipated  back  again  into  space.  Life  is  definite 
and  resident ;  and  Spiritual  Life  is  not  a  visi; 
from  a  force,  but  a  resident  tenant  in  the  soul. 

This  is,  however,  to  formulate  the  statement  of 
the  third  point,  that  spiritual  Life  is  not  an 
ordinary  form  of  energy  or  force.  The  analogy 
from  Nature  indorses  this,  but  here  Nature  stops. 
It  cannot  say  what  Spiritual  Life  is.  Indeed 
what  natural  Life  is  remains  unknown,  and  the 
word  Life  still  wanders  through  Science  without 
a  definition.  Nature  is  silent,  therefore,  and 
must  be  as  to  Spiritual  Life.  But  in  the  absence 
of  natural  light  we  fall  back  upon  that  comple- 
mentary revelation  which  always  shines,  when 
truth  is  necessary  and  where  Nature  fails.  We 
ask  with  Paul  when  this  Life  first  visited  him  on 
the  Damascus  road,  AVhat  is  this?  "Who  art 
Thou,  Lord?"     And  we  hear,  "I  am  Jesus. "f 

We  must  expect  to  find  this  denied.  Besides  a 
proof  from  Eevelation,  this  is  an  argument  from 
experience.  And  yet  we  shall  still  be  told  that 
this  Spiritual  Life  is  a  force.  But  let  it  be 
remembered  what  this  means  in  Science,  it  means 
the  heresy  of  confounding  Force  with  Vitality. 
We  must  also  expect  to  be  told  that  this  Spiritual 
Life  is  simply  a  development  of  ordinary  Life — 
just  as  Dr.  Bastian  tells  us  that  natural  Life  is 
formed  according  to  the  same  laws  which  deter- 
mine the    more    simple   chemical  combinations. 


*  One  must  not  be  misled  by  popular  statements  in  this  connection, 
such  as  tliis  of  Professor  Owen's:  "There  are  organisms  which  we 
can  devitalize  and  revitalize— Revive  and  revive — many  times." 
(Monthly  Microscopical  Journal,  May,  18G9,  p.  294.)  The  reference  is 
of  course  to  the  extraordinary  capacity  for  resuscitation  possessed 
by  many  of  the  Protozoa  and  other  low  forms  of  life. 

t  Acts  is.  5. 


BIOGKNKSl!?,  77 

But  remember  wliat  this  means  in  Science.  It 
is  the  heresy  of  Spontaneous  Generation,  a  heresy 
so  thoroughly  discredited  now  that  scarcely  an 
authority  in  Europe  will  lend  his  name  to  it. 
Who  art  Thou,  Lord?  Unless  we  are  to  be 
allowed  to  hold  Spontaneous  Generation  there  is 
no  alternative:  Life  can  only  come  fi'om  Life: 
"I  am  Jesus." 

A  hundred  other  questions  now  rush  into  the 
mind  about  this  Life:  IIow  does  it  come?  Why 
docs  it  come?  How  is  it  manifested?  What 
faculty  does  it  employ?  Where  does  it  reside? 
Is  it  communicable?  What  are  its  conditions? 
One  or  two  of  these  questions  may  be  vaguely 
answered,  the  rest  bring  us  face  to  face  with 
mystery.  Let  it  not  be  thought  that  the  scientific 
treatment  of  a  Spiritual  subject  has  reduced 
religion  to  a  problem  of  physics,  or  demonstrated 
God  by  the  laws  of  biology.  A  religion  without 
mystery  is  an  absurdity.  Even  Science  has  its 
mysteries,  none  more  inscrutable  than  around 
tins  Science  of  Life.  It  taught  us  sooner  or  later 
to  expect  mystery,  and  now  we  enter  its  domain. 
Let  it  be  carefully  marked,  however,  that  the 
cloud  does  not  fall  and  cover  us  till  we  have 
ascertained  the  most  momentous  truth  of  Religion 
— that  Christ  is  in  the  Christian. 

Not  that  there  is  anything  new  in  this.  The 
Churches  have  always  held  that  Christ  was  the 
source  of  Life.  No  spiritual  man  ever  claims 
that  his  spirituality  is  his  own.  "I  live,"  he  will 
tell  you;  "nevertheless  it  is  not  I,  but  Christ 
liveth  in  me."  Christ  our  Life  has  indeed  been 
the  only  doctrine  in  the  Christian  Church  from 
Paul  to  Augustine,  from  Calvin  to  Newman. 
Yet,  when  the  Spiritual  man  is  cross-examined 
upon  this  confession  it  is  astonishing  to  find  what 
uncertain  hold  it  has  upon  his  mind.  Doctrinally 
he  states  it  adequately  and  holds  it  unhesitatingly. 
But  when  pressed  with  the  literal  question  he 
shrinks  from  the  answer.  We  do  not  really 
believe  that  the  Living  Christ  has  touched  us, 
that  He  makes  His  abode  in  us.     Spiritual  Life 


78  BIOGENESIS. 

is  not  as  real  to  us  as  natural  Life.  And  we 
cover  our  retreat  into  unbelieving  vagueness  with 
a  plea  of  reverence,  justified,  as  we  think,  by  the 
"Thus  far  and  no  farther"  of  ancient  Scriptures. 
There  is  often  a  great  deal  of  intellectual  sin 
concealed  under  this  old  ai^horism.  When  men 
do  not  really  wish  to  go  farther  they  find  it  an 
honorable  convenience  sometimes  to  sit  down  on 
the  outermost  edge  of  the  Holy  Ground  on  the 
pretext  of  taking  off  their  shoes.  Yet  we  must 
be  certain  that,  making  a  virtue  of  reverence,  we 
are  not  merely  excusing  ignorance;  or,  under  the 
plea  of  mystery,  evading  a  truth  Avliich  has  been 
stated  in  the  New  Testament  a  hundred  times,  in 
the  most  literal  form,  and  with  all  but  monoton- 
ous repetition.  The  greatest  truths  are  always 
the  most  loosely  held.  And  not  the  least  of  the 
advantages  of  taking  up  this  question  from  the 
present  standpoint  is  that  we  may  see  how  a 
confused  doctrine  can  really  bear  the  luminous 
definition  of  Science  and  force  itself  upon  us  with 
all  the  weight  of  Natural  Law. 

What  is  mystery  to  many  men,  what  feeds  their 
worship,  and  at  the  same  time  spoils  it,  is  that  area 
round  all  gi-eat  truth  which  is  really  capable  of 
illumination,  and  into  which  every  earnest  mind 
is  permitted  and  commanded  to  go  with  a  light. 
We  cry  mystery  long  before  the  region  of  mystery 
comes.  True  mystery  casts  no  shadows  around. 
It  is  a  sudden  and  awful  gulf  yawning  across  the 
field  of  knowledge;  its  form  is  irregular,  but  its 
lips  are  clean  cut  and  sharp,  and  the  mind  can  go 
to  the  very  verge  and  look  down  the  precipice  into 
the  dim  abyss — 

"Where  writhing  clouds  unroll. 
Striving  to  utter  themselves  in  shapes." 

We  have  gone  with  a  light  to  the  very  verge  of  this 
truth.  We  have  seen  that  the  Sjiiritual  Life  is 
an  endowment  from  the  Spiritual  World,  and  that 
the  Living  Spirit  of  Christ  dwells  in  the  Christian. 
But  now  the  gulf  yawns  black  before  us,     Whut 


BIOGEKESIS.  79 

more  does  Science  know  of  life?  Nothing.  It 
knows  nothing  further  about  its  origin  in  detail. 
It  knows  nothing  about  its  ultimate  nature.  It 
cannot  even  define  it.  There  is  a  helplessness  in 
scientific  books  here,  and  a  continual  confession 
of  it  which  to  thoughtful  minds  is  almost  touch- 
ing. Science,  therefore,  has  not  eliminated  the 
true  mysteries  from  our  faith,  but  only  the  false. 
And  it  has  done  more.  It  has  made  true  mystery 
scientific.  Keligion  in  having  mystery  is  in"  anal- 
ogy with  all  around  it.  Where  there  is  exceptional 
mystery  in  the  Spiritual  world  it  will  generally  be 
found  that  there  is  a  corresponding  mystery  in  the 
natural  world.  And,  as  Origen  centuries  ago  in- 
sisted, the  difficulties  of  Religion  are  simply  the 
difficulties  of  Nature. 

One  question  more  we  may  look  at  for  a  moment. 
What  can  be  gathered  on  the  surface  .as  to  the 
process  of  Eegeneration  in  the  individual  soul? 
From  the  analogies  of  Biology  we  should  expect 
three  things:  First,  that  the  New  Life  should 
dawn  suddenly;  Second,  that  it  should  come 
"  without  observation;"  Third,  that  it  should  de- 
velop gi'adually.  On  two  of  these  points  there  can 
be  little  controversy.  The  gradualness  of  growth 
is  a  characteristic  which  strikes  the  simplest  ob- 
server. Long  before  the  word  Evolution  was 
coined  Christ  applied  it  in  this  very  connection — 
"  First  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  then  the  full  corn 
in  the  ear."  It  is  well  known  also  to  those  who 
study  the  parables  of  Nature  that  there  is  an  as- 
cending scale  of  slowness  as  we  rise  in  the  scale  of 
Life.  Growth  is  most  gradual  in  the  highest 
forms.  Man  attains  his  maturity  after  a  score  of 
years;  the  monad  completes  its  humble  cycle  in  a 
day.  What  wonder  if  development  be  tardy  in 
the  Creature  of  Eternity  ?  A  Christian's  sun  has 
sometimes  set,  and  a  critical  world  has  seen  as  yet 
no  corn  in  the  ear.  As  yet?  "As  yet,"  in  this 
long  Life,  has  not  begun.  Grant  him  the  years 
proportionate  to  his  place  in  the  scale  of  Life. 

The  time  of  harvest  is  not  yet.''' 

Again,  in  addition  to  being  slow,  the  phenoir- 


80  BIOGENESIS. 

ena  of  growth  are  secret.  Life  is  invisible.  When 
the  New  Life  manifests  itself  it  is  a  surprise. 
Thou  canst  not  tell  wlience  it  cometh  or  tvhithcr  it 
goeth.  When  the  plant  lives  whence  has  the  Life 
come?  When  it  dies  whither  has  it  gone?  Thou 
ca7ist  not  tell  .  .  so  is  every  one  that  is  born 
of  the  Spirit.  For  the  kingdom  of  God  cometh 
ivithout  observation. 

Yet  once  more — and  this  is  a  jioiut  of  strange 
and  frivolous  dispute — this  Life  comes  suddenly. 
This  is  the  only  way  in  which  Life  can  come.  Life 
cannot  come  gradually — health  can,  structure  can, 
but  not  Life.  A  new  theology  has  laughed  at  the 
Doctrine  of  Conversion.  Sudden  Conversion  es- 
pecially has  been  ridiculed  as  untrue  to  philosophy 
and  impossible  to  human  nature.  We  may  not  be 
concerned  in  buttressing  any  theology  because  it 
is  old.  But  we  find  that  this  old  theology  is 
scientific.  There  may  be  cases — they  are  probably 
in  the  majorit}' — where  the  moment  of  contact 
with  the  Living  Spirit  though  sudden  has  been 
obscure.  But  the  real  moment  and  the  conscious 
moment  are  two  different  things.  Science  pro- 
nounces nothing  as  to  the  conscious  moment.  li 
it  did  it  Avould  probably  say  that  that  was  seldom 
the  real  moment — Just  as  in  the  natural  Life  the' 
conscious  moment  is  not  the  real  moment.  The 
moment  of  birth  in  the  natural  world  is  not  a  con- 
scious moment — we  do  not  know  we  are  born  till 
long  afterward.  Yet  there  are  men  to  whom  the 
Origin  of  the  New  Life  in  time  has  been  no  diffi- 
culty. To  Paul,  for  instance,  Christ  seems  to 
have  come  at  a  definite  period  of  time,  the  exact 
moment  and  second  of  which  could  have  been 
known.  And  this  is  certr'inly,  in  theory  at  least, 
the  normal  Origin  of  Life,  according  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  Biology.  The  line  between  the  living 
and  the  dead  is  a  sharp  line.  When  the  dead 
atoms  of  Carbon,  Hydrogen,  Oxygeii,  Nitrogen, 
are  seized  upon  by  Life,  the  organism  at  first  is 
very  lowly.  It  possesses  few  functions.  It  has 
little  beauty.  Growth  is  the  work  of  time.  But 
Life  is  not.     That  comes  in  a  moment.     At  one 


BIOGENESIS.  81 

moment  it  was  dead;  the  next  it  lived.  This  is 
conversion,  the  "passino-."  as  the  Bible  calls  it, 
"from  Death  nnto  Life."  Those  who  have  stood 
by  another's  side  at  the  solemn  honr  of  this  dread 
possession  have  been  conscious  sometimes  of  an 
experience  which  words  are  not  allowed  to  utter — 
a  something  like  the  sudden  snap^)ing  of  a  chain, 
the  waking  from  a  dream. 


DEGENERATIOJT.  83 


DEGENERATION. 


'1  went  by  the  field  of  the  slothful,  and  by  the  vineyard  of  the 
man  void  of  understanding;  and  lo,  it  was  all  grown  over  with 
thorns,  and  nettles  had  covered  the  face  thereof,  and  the  stone  wall 
thereof  was  broken  down.  Then  I  saw  and  considered  it  well;  I 
looked  upon  it  and  received  instruction." — Solonwn. 

"How  shall  we  escape  if  we  neglect  so  great  salvation?"— //e6re?fs. 

"We  have  as  possibilities  either  Balance,  or  Elaboration,  or  Degen- 
eration."—£■.  Ray  Lankester. 

In  one  of  his  best  known  books,  Mr.  Darwin 
brings  out  a  fact  which  may  be  ilhistrated  in  some 
such  way  as  this:  Suppose  a  bird  fancier  collects 
a  flock  of  tame  pigeons  distinguished  by  all  the 
infinite  ornamentations  of  their  race.  They  are 
of  all  kinds,  of  every  shade  of  color,  and  adorned 
with  every  variety  of  marking.  He  takes  them  to 
au  uninhabited  island  and  allows  them  to  fly  off 
wild  into  the  woods.  They  found  a  colony  there, 
and  after  the  lapse  of  many  years  the  owner  returns 
to  the  spot.  He  will  find  that  a  remarkable  change 
luis  taken  place  in  the  interval.  The  birds,  or 
their  descendants  rather,  have  all  become  changed 
into  the  same  color.  The  black,  the  white  and 
the  dun,  the  striped,  the  spotted,  and  the  ringed, 
are  all  metamorphosed  into  one — a  dark  slaty  blue. 
Two  plain  black  bands  monotonously  repeat  them- 
selves upon  the  wings  of  each,  and  the  loins  be- 
neath are  white;  but  all  the  variety,  all  the  beau- 
tiful colors,  all  the  old  graces  of  form  it  may  be, 
have  disappeared.  These  improvements  were  the 
result  of  care  and  nature,  of  domestication,  of  civ- 
ilization; and  now  that  tnese  influences  are  re- 
moved, the  birds  themselves  undo  the  past  and 


84  DEGENEIIATION. 

lose  what  tliey  had  gained.  The  attempt  to  ele- 
vate the  race  has  been  mysteriously  thwarted.  It 
is  as  if  the  original  bird,  the  far  remote  ancestor 
of  all  doves,  had  been  blue,  and  these  had  been 
compelled  by  some  strange  law  to  discard  the 
badges  of  their  civilization  and  conform  to  the 
ruder  image  of  the  first.  The  natural  law  by 
which  such  a  change  occurs  is  called  The  Princi- 
"ple  of  Reversion  to  Type. 

It  is  a  proof  of  the  universality  of  this  law  that 
the  same  thing  will  happen  with  a  plant.  A  gar- 
den is  planted,  let  us  say,  with  strawberries  and 
roses,  and  for  a  number  of  years  is  left  alone.  In 
process  of  time  it  will  run  to  waste.  But  this  does 
not  mean  that  the  plants  will  really  waste  away, 
but  that  they  will  change  into  something  else,  and, 
as  it  invariably  api:»ears,  into  something  worse;  in 
the  one  case,  namely,  into  the  small,  wild  straw- 
berry of  the  woods,  and  in  the  other  into  the 
primitive  dog-rose  of  the  hedges. 

If  we  neglect  a  garden  plant,  then,  a  natural 
principle  of  deterioration  comes  in,  and  changes 
it  into  a  worse  plant.  And  if  we  neglect  a  bird, 
by  the  same  imperious  law  it  will  be  gradually 
changed  into  an  uglier  bird.  Or  if  we  neglect  al- 
most any  of  the  domestic  animals,  they  will  rapidly 
revert  to  wild  and  worthless  forms  again. 

Now  the  same  thing  exactly  would  happen  in 
the  case  of  you  or  me.  Why  should  Man  be  an 
exception  to  any  of  the  laws  of  Nature?  Nature 
knows  him  simply  as  an  animal — Sub-kingdom 
Vertehrata,  Class  Mammalia,  Order  Bimana. 
And  the  law  of  lleversion  to  Type  runs  through 
all  creation.  If  a  man  neglect  himself  for  a  few 
years  he  will  change  into  a  worse  man  and  a  lower 
man.  If  it  is  his  body  that  he  neglects,  he  will 
deteriorate  into  a  wild  and  bestial  savage — like  the 
de-humanized  men  who  are  discovered  sometimes 
upon  desert  islands.  If  it  is  his  mind,  it  will  de- 
generate into  imbecility  and  madness — solitary 
confinement  has  the  power  to  unmake  men's  minds 
and  leave  them  idiots.  If  he  neglect  his  con- 
science, it  will  run  off  into  lawlessness  and  vice. 


DEGENERATION.  85 

Or,  lastly,  if  it  is  his  soul,  it  must  inevitably  atro- 
phy, drop  olf  in  ruin  and  decay. 

We  have  here,  then,  a  thoroughly  natural  basis 
for  the  question  before  us.  If  we  neglect,  with 
this  universal  principle  staring  us  in  the  face,  how 
shall  we  escape?  If  we  neglect  the  ordinary  means 
of  keeping  a  garden  in  order,  how  shall  it  escape 
running  to  weeds  and  waste?  Or,  if  we  neglect 
the  opportunities  for  cultivating  the  mind,  how 
shall  it  escape  ignorance  and  feebleness?  So,  if 
we  neglect  the  soul,  how  shall  it  escape  the  nat- 
ural retrograde  movement,  the  inevitable  relapse 
into  barrenness  and  death? 

It  is  not  necessary,  surely,  to  pause  for  proof 
that  there  is  such  a  retrograde  princijile  in  the 
being  of  every  man.  It  is  demonstrated  by  facts, 
and  by  the  analogy  of  all  Nature.  Three  possi- 
bilities of  life,  according  to  Science,  are  open  to 
all  living  organisms — Balance,  Evolution,  and 
Degeneration.  The  first  denotes  the  ])recarious 
persistence  )f  a  life  along  what  looks  like  a  level 
path,  a  character  which  seems  to  hold  its  own  alike 
against  the  attacks  of  evil  and  the  appeals  of  good. 
It  implies  a  set  of  circumstances  so  balanced  by 
choice  or  fortune  that  they  neither  influence  for 
better  nor  for  worse.  But  except  in  theory  this 
state  of  equilibrium,  normal  in  the  inorganic  king- 
dom, is  really  foreign  to  the  world  of  life;  and 
what  seems  inertia  may  be  a  true  Evolution  un- 
noticed from  its  slowness,  or  likelier  still  a  move- 
ment of  Degeneration  subtly  obliterating  as  it  falls 
the  very  traces  of  its  former  height.  From  this 
state  of  apparent  Balance,  Evolution  is  the  escape 
in  the  upward  direction.  Degeneration  in  the 
lower.  But  Degeneration,  rather  than  Balance  or 
Elaboration,  is  the  possibility  of  life  embraced  by 
the  majority  of  mankind.  And  the  choice  is  de- 
termined by  man's  own  nature.  The  life  of  Bal- 
ance is  difficult.  It  lies  on  the  verge,  of  continual 
temptation,  its  perpetual  adjustments  become 
fatiguing,  its  measured  virtue  is  monotonous  and 
uninspiring.  More  difficult  still,  apparently,  is  the 
life  of  ever  upward  growth.     Most  men  attempt  it 


86  DEGENERATION". 

for  a  time,  but  growth  is  slow;  and  despair  over- 
takes them  while  the  goal  is  far  away.  Yet  none 
of  these  reasons  fully  explains  the  fact  that  the 
alternative  which  remains  is  adopted  by  the  major- 
ity of  men.  That  Degeneration  is  easy  only  half 
accounts  for  it.  Why  is  it  easy?  Why  but  that 
ah'eady  in  each  man's  very  nature  this  principle  is 
supreme?  He  feels  within  his  soul  a  silent  drift- 
ing motion  impelling  him  downward  with  irresist- 
ible force.  Instead  of  aspiring  to  Conversion  to  a 
higher  Type  he  submits  by  a  law  of  his  nature  to 
Reversion  to  a  lower.  This  is  Degeneration — that 
principle  by  which  the  organism,  failing  to  de- 
velop itself,  failing  even  to  keep  what  it  has  got, 
deteriorates,  and  becomes  more  and  more  adapted 
to  a  degraded  form  of  life. 

All  men  who  know  themselves  are  conscious 
that  this  tendency,  deep-rooted  and  active,  exists 
within  their  nature.  Theologically  it  is  described 
as  a  gravitation,  a  bias  toward  evil.  The  Bible 
view  is  that  man  is  conceived  in  sin  and  shapen  in 
iniquity.  And  experience  tells  him  that  he  will 
shape  himself  into  further  sin  and  ever  deepening 
iniquity  without  the  smallest  effort,  without  in  the 
least  intending  it,  and  in  tlie  most  natural  way  in 
the  world  if  he  simply  let  his  life  run.  It  is  on 
this  principle  that,  completing  the  conception,  the 
wicked  are  said  further  in  the  Bible  to  be  lost. 
They  are  not  really  lost  as  yet,  but  they  are  on 
the  sure  way  to  it.  The  bias  of  their  lives  is  in 
full  action.  There  is  no  drag  on  anywhere.  The 
natural  tendencies  are  having  it  all  their  own  way; 
and  although  the  victims  may  be  quite  unconscious 
that  all  this  is  going  on,  it  is  patent  to  every  one 
who  considers  even  the  natural  bearings  of  the 
case  that  "the  end  of  these  things  is  Death." 
When  we  see  a  man  fall  from  the  top  of  a  five- 
story  house,  we  say  the  man  is  lost.  We  say  that 
before  he  has  fallen  a  foot;  for  the  same  principle 
that  made  him  fall  the  one  foot  will  undoubtedly 
make  him  complete  the  descent  by  falling  other 
eighty  or  ninety  feet.  So  that  he  is  a  dead  man, 
or  a  lost  man  from  the  very  first.     The  gravitation 


DEGENERATION.  87 

of  sin  iu  a  human  soul  acts  precisely  in  the  same 
way.  Gradually,  with  gathering  momentum  it 
sinks  a  man  further  and  further  from  God  and 
righteousness,  and  lands  him,  by  the  sheer  action 
of  a  natural  law,  in  tlie  hell  of  a  neglected  life. 

But  the  lesson  is  not  less  clear  from  analogy. 
Apart  even  from  the  law  of  Degeneration,  apart 
from  Reversion  to  Type,  there  is  in  every  living 
organism  a  law  of  Death.  We  are  wont  to 
imagine  that  Nature  is  full  of  Life.  In  reality 
it  is  full  of  Death.  One  cannot  say  it  is  natural 
for  a  plant  to  live.  Examine  its  nature  fully, 
and  you  have  to  admit  that  its  natural  tendency 
is  to  die.  It  is  kept  from  dying  by  a  mere 
temporary  endowment  which  gives  it  an  ephem- 
eral dominion  over  the  elements — gives  it  power 
to  utilize  for  a  brief  span  the  rain,  the  sun- 
shine, and  the  air.  Withdraw  this  temporary 
endowment  for  a  moment  and  its  true  nature  is 
revealed.  Instead  of  overcoming  Nature  it  is 
overcome.  The  very  things  which  appeared  to 
minister  to  its  growth  and  beauty  now  turn 
against  it  and  make  it  decay  and  die.  The  sun 
which  warmed  it,  withers  it;  the  air  and  rain 
which  nourished  it,  rot  it.  It  is  the  very  forces 
which  we  associate  with  life  which,  when  their 
true  nature  appears,  are  discovered  to  be  really 
the  ministers  of  death. 

This  law,  which  is  true  for  the  whole  plant- 
world,  is  also  valid  for  the  animal  and  for  man. 
Air  is  not  life,  but  corruption — so  literally  cor- 
ruption that  the  only  way  to  keep  out  corruption, 
when  life  has  ebbed,  is  to  keep  out  air.  Life  is 
merely  a  temporary  suspension  of  these  destruc- 
tive powers;  and  this  is  truly  one  of  the  most 
accurate  definitions  of  life  we  have  yet  received 
— "the  sum  total  of  the  functions  which  resist 
death." 

Spiritual  life,  in  like  manner,  is  the  sum  total 
of  the  functions  which  resist  sin.  The  soul's 
atmosphere  is  the  daily  trial,  circumstance,  and 
temptation  of  the  world.  And  as  it  is  life  alone 
which    gives    the    plant    power    to    utilize    the 


88  DEGENERATIO]Sr. 

elements,  and  as,  without  it,  they  utilize  it,  so 
it  is  the  spiritual  life  alone  which  gives  the  soul 
power  to  utilize  temptation  and  trial ;  and  without 
it  they  destroy  the  soul.  How  shall  we  escape  if 
we  refuse  to  exercise  these  functions — in  other 
words,  if  we  neglect? 

This  destroying  process,  observe,  goes  on  quite 
independently  of  God's  judgment  on  sin.  God's 
judgment  on  sin  is  another  and  a  more  awful  fact 
of  which  this  may  be  a  part.  But  it  is  a  distinct 
fact  by  itself,  which  we  can  hold  and  examine 
separately,  that  on  purely  natural  principles  the 
soul  that  is  left  to  itself  unwatched,  uncultivated, 
unredeemed,  must  fall  away  into  death  by  its  own 
nature.  The  soul  that  sinneth  "it  shall  die." 
It  shall  die,  not  necessarily  because  God  passes 
sentence  of  death  upon  it,  but  because  it  cannot 
help  dying.  It  has  neglected  "the  functions  which 
resist  death"  and  has  always  been  dying.  The 
punishment  is  in  its  very  nature,  and  the  sentence 
is  being  gradually  carried  out  all  along  the  path 
of  life  by  ordinary  processes  which  enforce  the 
verdict  with  the  appalling  faithfulness  of  law. 

There  is  an  affectation  that  religious  truths  lie 
beyond  the  sphere  of  the  comprehension  which 
serves  men  in  ordinary  things.  This  question  at 
least  must  be  an  exception.  It  lies  as  near  the 
natural  as  the  spiritual.  If  it  makes  no  impres- 
sion on  a  man  to  know  that  God  will  visit  his 
iniquities  upon  him,  he  cannot  blind  himself  to 
the  fact  that  Nature  will.  Do  we  not  all  know 
what  it  is  to  be  punished  by  Nature  for  disobeying 
her?  We  have  looked  round  the  wards  of  a  hos- 
pital, a  prison,  or  a  madhouse,  and  seen  there 
Nature  at  work  squaring  her  accounts  with  sin. 
And  we  knew  as  we  looked  that  if  no  Judge  sat 
on  the  throne  of  heaven  at  all  there  was  a  Judg- 
ment there,  where  an  inexorable  Nature  was 
crying  aloud  for  justice,  and  carrying  out  her 
heavy  sentences  for  violated  laws. 

When  God  gave  Nature  the  law  into  her  own 
hands  in  this  way.  He  seems  to  have  given  her 
two  rules  upon  which  her  sentences  were  to  be 


DEGENEKATION.  89 

based.  The  one  is  formally  enunciated  in  this 
teuteuce,  "Whatsoever  a  man  soweth  that 
SHALL  HE  ALSO  REAP,"  The  otlier  is  informally 
expressed  in  this,"  If  we  neglect  how  shall 
WE  escape?" 

The  first  is  the  positive  law,  and  deals  with  sins 
of  commission.  The  other,  which  we  are  now 
discussing,  is  the  negative,  and  deals  with  sins  of 
omission.  It  does  not  say  anything  about  sowing 
but  about  not  sowing.  It  takes  up  the  case  of 
souls  which  are  lying  fallow.  It  does  not  say,  if 
we  sow  corruption  we  shall  reap  corruption. 
Perhaps  we  Avould  not  be  so  unwise,  so  regardless 
of  ourselves,  of  public  opinion,  as  to  sow  corrup- 
tion. It  does  not  say,  if  we  sow  tares  we  shall 
reap  tares.  We  might  never  do  anything  so 
foolish  as  sow  tares.  But  if  we  sow  nothing,  it 
says,  we  shall  reap  nothing.  If  we  put  nothing 
'  into  the  field,  we  shall  take  nothing  out.  If  we 
neglect  to  cultiA^ate  in  summer,  how  shall  we 
escape  starving  in  winter? 

Now  the  Bible  raises  this  question,  but  does  not 
answer  it — because  it  is  too  obvious  to  need 
answering.  How  shall  we  escape  if  we  neglect? 
The  answer  is,  we  cannot.  In  the  nature  of 
things  we  cannot.  We  cannot  escape  any  more 
than  a  man  can  escape  drowning  who  falls  into 
the  sea  and  has  neglected  to  learn  to  swim.  In 
the  nature  of  things  he  cannot  escape — nor  can 
he  escape  who  has  neglected  the  great  salvation. 

Xow  why  should  such  fatal  consequences  follow 
a  simple  process  like  neglect?  The  popular 
impression  is  that  a  man,  to  be  what  is  called  lost, 
must  be  an  open  and  notorious  sinner.  He  must 
be  one  who  has  abandoned  all  that  is  good  and 
pure  in  life,  and  sown  to  the  flesh  with  all  his 
might  and  main.  But  this  principle  goes  further. 
It  says  simply,  "If  we  neglect,"  Any  one  may 
see  the  reason  why  a  notoriously  wicked  person 
should  not  escape;  but  why  should  not  all  the 
rest  of  us  escape?  What  is  to  hinder  people  who 
are  not  notoriously  wicked  escaping — people  who 


90  DEGENEKATIOJSr. 

never  sowed  anything  in  particnlar?     Why  is  it 
such  a  sin  to  sow  nothing  in  particular? 

There  must  be  some  hidden  and  vital  relation 
between  these  three  words,  Salvation,  Neglect,  and 
Escape — some  reasonable,  essential,  and  indissol- 
uble connection.  AVhy  are  these  words  so  linked 
together  as  to  weight  this  clause  with  all  the 
authority  and  solemnity  of  a  sentence  of  death? 

The  explanation  has  partly  been  given  already. 
It  lies  still  further,  however,  in  the  meaning  of 
the  word  Salvation.  And  this,  of  course,  is  not 
at  all  Salvation  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  forgive- 
ness of  sin.  This  is  one  great  meaning  of  Salva- 
tion, the  first  and  the  greatest.  But  this  is 
spoken  to  people  who  are  supposed  to  have  had 
this.  It  is  the  broader  word,  therefore,  and 
includes  not  only  forgiveness  of  sin  but  salvation 
or  deliverance  from  the  downward  bias  of  the 
soul.  It  takes  in  that  whole  process  of  rescue ' 
from  the  power  of  sin  and  selfishness  that  should 
be  going  on  from  day  to  day  in  every  human  life. 
We  have  seen  that  there  is  a  natural  principle  in 
man  lowering  him,  deadening  him,  pulling  him 
down  by  inches  to  the  mere  animal  jjlane,  blind- 
ing reason,  searing  conscience,  paralyzing  will. 
This  is  the  active  destroying  principle,  or  Sin.' 
Now  to  counteract  this,  God  has  discovered  to  us 
another  principle  which  will  stojD  this  drifting 
process  in  the  soul,  steer  it  round,  and  make  it 
drift  the  other  way.  This  is  the  active  saving 
principle,  or  Salvation.  If  a  man  find  the  first 
of  these  powers  furiously  at  work  within  him, 
dragging  his  whole  life  downward  to  destruction, 
there  is  only  one  way  to  escape  his  fate — to  take 
resolute  hold  of  the  upward  power,  and  be  borne 
by  it  to  the  opposite  goal.  And  as  this  second 
power  is  the  only  one  in  the  universe  which  has 
the  slightest  real  effect  upon  the  first,  how  shall 
a  man  escape  if  he  neglect  it?  To  neglect  it  is  to 
cut  off  the  only  possible  chance  of  escape.  In 
declining  this  he  is  simply  abandoning  himself 
with  his  eyes  oj^en  to  that  other  and  terrible 
energy  which  is  already  there,  and  whicli,  in  the 


DEGENERATION.  91 

natural  course  of  things,  is  bearing  him  every 
moment  further  and  further  from  escape. 

From  the  very  nature  of  Salvation,  therefore, 
it  is  plain  that  the  only  thing  necessary  to  make 
it  of  no  effect  is  neglect.  Hence  the  Bible  could 
not  fail  to  lay  strong  emphasis  on  a  word  so  vital. 
It  was  not  necessary  for  it  to  say,  how  shall  we 
escape  if  we  trample  uuon  the  great  salvation,  or 
doubt,  or  despise,  or  reject  it.  A  man  who  has 
been  poisoned  only  need  neglect  tlie  antidote  and 
he  will  die.  It  makes  no  difference  whether  he 
dashes  it  on  the  ground,  or  pours  it  out  of  the 
window,  or  sets  it  down  by  his  bedside,  and  stares 
at  it  all  the  time  he  is  dying.  He  will  die  Just 
tJie  same,  whether  he  destroys  it  in  a  passion,  or 
coolly  refuses  to  have  anything  to  do  with  it. 
And  as  a  matter  of  fact  probably  most  deaths, 
spiritually,  are  gradual  dissolutions  of  the  last 
class  rather  than  rash  suicides  of  the  first. 

This,  then,  is  the  effect  of  neglecting  salvation 
from  the  side  of  salvation  itself;  and  the  conclu- 
sion is  that  from  the  very  nature  of  salvation 
escape  is  out  of  the  qtiestion.  Salvation  is  a 
definite  process.  If  a  man  refuse  to  submit 
himself  to  that  process,  clearly  he  cannot  have  the 
benefits  of  it.  Js  many  as  received  Him  to  them 
gave  He  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God.  He 
does  not  avail  himself  of  this  power.  It  may  be 
mere  carelessness  or  apathy.  Nevertlieless  the 
neglect  is  fatal.  He  cannot  escape  becattse  he 
will  not. 

Ttirn  now  to  another  aspect  of  the  case — to  the 
effect  upon  the  soul  itself.  Neglect  does  more 
for  the  soul  than  make  it  miss  salvation.  It 
despoils  it  of  its  capacity  for  salvation.  Degener- 
ation in  the  spiritual  sphere  involves  primarily  the 
impairing  of  the  faculties  of  salvation  and  ulti- 
mately the  loss  of  them.  It  really  means  that 
the  very  soul  itself  becomes  piecemeal  destroyed 
until  the  very  capacity  for  God  and  righteousness 
is  gone. 

The  soul,  in  its  highest  sense,  is  a  vast  capacity 
for  God.     It  is  like  a  curious  chamber  added  on 


93  DEGENERATION. 

to  being,  and  somehow  involving  being,  a  cham- 
ber with  elastic  and  contractile  walls,  which  can 
be  expanded,  with  God  as  its  guest,  inimitably, 
but  which  without  God  shrinks  and  shrivels  until 
every  vestige  of  the  Divine  is  gone,  and  God's 
image  is  left  without  God's  Spirit.  One  cannot 
call  what  is  left  a  soul;  it  is  a  shrunken,  useless 
organ,  a  capacity  sentenced  to  death  by  disuse, 
which  droops  as  a  Avithered  hand  by  the  side,  and 
cumbers  nature  like  a  rotted  branch.  Nature  has 
her  revenge  upon  neglect  as  well  as  upon  extrava- 
gance. Misuse,  with  her,  is  as  mortal  a  sin  as 
abuse. 

There  are  certain  burrowing  animals— the  mole 
for  instance — which  have  taken  to  spending  their 
lives  beneath  the  surface  of  the  ground.  And 
Nature  has  taken  her  revenge  upon  them  in  a 
thoroughly  natural  way — she  has  closed  up  their 
eyes.  If  they  mean  to  live  in  darkness,  she 
argues,  eyes  are  obviously  a  superfluous  function. 
By  neglecting  them  these  animals  made  it  clear 
they  do  not  want  them.  And  as  one  of  Nature's 
fixed  principles  is  that  nothing  shall  exist  in  vain, 
the  eyes  are  presently  taken  away,  or  reduced  to  a 
rudimentary  state.  There  are  fishes  also  Avhich 
have  had  to  pay  the  same  terrible  forfeit  for 
having  made  their  abode  in  dark  caverns  where 
eyes  can  never  be  required.  And  in  exactly  the 
same  way  the  spiritual  eye  must  die  and  lose  its 
power  by  purely  natural  law  if  the  soul  choose  to 
walk  in  darkness  rather  than  in  light. 

This  is  the  meaning  of  the  favorite  paradox  of 
Christ,  "From  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken 
away  even  that  which  he  hath;"  "take  therefore 
the  talent  from  him."  The  religious  faculty  is 
a  talent,  the  most  splendid  and  sacred  talent  we 
possess.  Yet  it  is  subject  to  the  natural  condi- 
tions and  laws.  If  any  man  take  his  talent  and 
hide  it  in  a  napkin,  although  it  is  doing  him 
neither  harm  nor  good  apparently,  God  will  not 
allow  him  to  have  it.  Although  it  is  lying  there 
rolled  up  in  the  darkness,  not  conspicuously 
affecting  any  one,  still  God  will  not  allow  him  to 


DEGENERATION".  93 

keep  it.  He  will  not  allow  him  to  keep  it  any 
more  than  Xature  would  allow  the  fish  to  keep 
their  eyes.  Therefore,  He  says,  "take  the  talent 
from  him."     And  Xature  does  it. 

This  man's  crime  Avas  simply  neglect — "thou 
wicked  and  slutltful  se^want."  It  was  a  wasted 
life — a  life  which  failed  in  the  holy  stewardship 
of  itself.  Such  a  life  is  a  peril  to  all  who  cross 
its  path.  Degeneration  compasses  Degeneration. 
It  is  only  a  character  which  is  itself  developing 
that  can  aid  the  Evolution  of  the  world  and  so 
fulfill  the  end  of  life.  For  this  high  usury  each 
of  our  lives,  however  small  may  seem  our  capital, 
was  given  ns  by  God.  And  it  is  just  the  men 
whose  capital  seems  small  who  need  to  choose  the 
best  investments.  It  is  significant  that  it  was  the 
man  who  had  only  one  talent  who  was  guilty  of 
neglecting  it.  Men  v.'ith  ten*  talents,  men  of  large 
gifts  and  burning  energies,  either  direct  their 
jjowers  nobly  and  usefully,  or  misdirect  them 
irretrievably.  It  is  those  who  belong  to  the  rank 
and  file  of  life  who  need  this  warning  most. 
Others  have  an  abundant  store  and  sow  to  the 
spirit  or  the  flesh  with  a  lavish  hand.  But  we, 
with  our  small  gift,  what  boots  our  sowing?  Our 
temptation  as  ordiiiary  men  is  to  neglect  to  sow 
at  all.  The  interest  on  our  talent  would  be  so 
small  that  we  excuse  ourselves  with  the  reflection 
that  it  is  not  worth  while. 

It  is  no  objection  to  all  this  to  say  that  we  are 
unconscious  of  this  neglect  or  misdirection  of  our 
powers.  That  is  the  darkest  feature  in  the  case. 
If  there  were  uneasiness  there  might  be  hope.  If 
there  were,  somewhere  about  our  soul,  a  something 
which  was  not  gone  to  sleep  like  all  the  rest;  if  there 
were  a  contending  force  anywhere;  if  we  would 
let  even  that  work  instead  of  neglecting  it,  it  would 
gain  strength  from  hour  to  hour,  and  waken  up 
one  at  a  time  each  torpid  and  dishonored  faculty 
till  our  whole  nature  became  alive  with  strivings 
against  self,  and  every  avenue  was  open  wide  for 
God.  But  the  apathy,  the  numbness  of  the  soul, 
wbat  can  be  said  of  such  a   symptom  but  that  it 


94  'degeneration. 

means  the  creeping  on  of  death?  There  are  acci- 
dents in  which  the  victims  feel  no  pain.  They  are 
well  and  strong  they  think.  Bnt  they  are  dying. 
And  if  you  ask  the  surgeon  by  their  side  what 
makes  him  give  this  verdict,  he  will  say  it  is  thia 
numbness  over  the  frame  which  tells  how  some  of 
the  parts  have  lost  already  the  very  capacity  for 
life. 

Nor  is  it  the  least  tragic  accompaniment  of  this 
process  that  its  effects  may  even  be  concealed  from 
others.  The  soul  undergoing  Degeneration,  surely 
by  some  arrangement  with  Temptation  planned 
in  the  uttermost  hell,  possesses  the  power  of  abso- 
lute secrecy.  When  all  within  is  festering  decay 
and  rottenness,  a  Judas,  without  anomaly,  may 
kiss  his  Lord.  This  invisible  consumption,  like 
its  fell  analogue  in  the  natural  world,  may  even 
keep  its  victim  beautiful  while  slowly  slaying  it. 
When  one  examines  the  little  Crustacea  which 
have  inhabited  for  centuries  the  lakes  of  the  Mam- 
moth Cave  of  Kentucky,  one  is  at  first  astonished 
to  find  these  animals  apparently  endowed  with 
perfect  eyes.  The  pallor  of  the  head  is  broken  by 
two  black  pigment  specks,  conspicuous  indeed  as 
the  onljr  bits  of  color  on  the  whole  blanched  body; 
and  these,  even  to  the  casual  observer,  certainly 
represent  well-defined  organs  of  vision.  But  what 
do  they  with  eyes  in  these  Stygian  waters?  There 
reigns  an  everlasting  night.  Is  the  law  for  once 
at  fault?  A  swift  incision  with  the  scalped,  a 
glance  with  a  lens,  and  their  secret  is  betrayed. 
The  eyes  are  a  mockery.  Externally  they  are  or- 
gans of  vision — the  front  of  the  eye  is  perfect;  be- 
hind, there  is  nothing  but  a  mass  of  ruins.  The 
optic  nerve  is  a  shrunken,  atrophied  and  insensate 
thread.  These  animals  have  organs  of  vision,  and 
yet  they  have  no  vision.  They  have  eyes,  but  they 
Bee  not. 

Exactly  what  Christ  said  of  men:  They  had 
eyes,  but  no  vision.  And  the  reason  is  the  same. 
It  is  the  simplest  problem  of  natural  history.  The 
Crustacea  of  the  Mammoth  Cave  have  chosen  to 
abide  in  darkness.     Therefore  they  have  bec^m^ 


DEGENERATION.  95 

fitted  for  it.  By  refusing  to  see  they  have  waived 
the  right  to  see.  And  Nature  ha^  grimly  humored 
them.  Nature  had  to  do  it  by  lier  very  coustitu- 
tiou.  It  is  her  defence  against  waste  that  decay  of 
faculty  should  immediately  follow  disuse  of  func- 
tion. He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  he  Avhose  ears 
have  not  degenerated,  let  him  hear. 

Men  tell  us  sometimes  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
an  atheist.  There  must  be.  There  are  some  men 
to  whom  it  is  true  that  there  is  no  God.  They 
cannot  see  God  because  they  have  no  eye.  They 
have  only  an  abortive  organ,  atrophied  by  neg' 
lect. 

All  this,  it  is  commonplace  again  to  insist,  is 
not  the  effect  of  neglect  when  we  die,  but  while 
we  live.  The  process  is  in  full  career  and  opera- 
tion now.  It  is  useless  projecting  consequences 
into  the  future  when  the  effects  may  be  measured 
now.  We  are  always  practicing  these  little  decep- 
tions upon  ourselves,  postponing  the  consequences 
of  our  misdeeds  as  if  they  were  to  culminate  some 
other  day  about  the  time  of  death.  It  makes  us 
sin  with  a  lighter  hand  to  run  an  account  with 
retribution,  as  it  were,  and  delay  the  reckoning 
time  with  God.  But  every  day  is  a  reckoning  day. 
Every  soul  is  a  Book  of  Judgment  and  Nature,  as 
a  recording  angel,  marks  there  every  sin.  As  all 
will  be  judged  by  the  great  Judge  some  day,  all 
are  judged  by  Nature  now.  The  sin  of  yesterday, 
as  part  of  its  penalty,  has  the  sin  of  to-day.  All 
follow  us  in  silent  retribution  on  our  past,  and  go 
with  us  to  the  grave.  We  cannot  cheat  Nature. 
No  sleiglit-of-heart  can  rob  religion  of  a  present, 
the  immortal  nature  of  a  noiu.     The  poet  sings— 

"I  looked  behind  to  find  my  past. 
And  lo,  it  had  gone  before." 

But  no,  not  all.  The  unforgiven  sins  are  not  away 
in  keeping  somewhere  to  be  let  loose  upon  us 
when  we  die;  they  are  here,  within  us,  now.  To- 
day brings  the  rosurrection  of  their  past,  to-morrow 
of  to-day.     And  the  powers  of  sin,  to  the  exact 


9$  DEGENERATION. 

strength  that  we  have  developed  them,  nearing 
their  dreadful  culmination  with  every  breath  we 
draw,  are  here,  within  us,  now.  The  souls  of  some 
men  are  already  honey-combed  through  and 
through  with  the  etei'nal  consequences  of  neglect, 
so  that  taking  the  natural  and  rational  view  of  their 
case  just  now,  it  is  simply  inconceivable  that  there 
is  any  escape  y?/.s/f  now.  What  a  fearful  thing  it  is 
to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God!  A  fear- 
ful thing  even  if,  as  the  philosopher  tells  us,  "  the 
hands  of  the  Living  God  are  the  Laws  of  Nature." 

AVhatever  hopes  of  a  "  heaven"  a  neglected  soul 
may  have,  can  be  shown  to  be  an  ignorant  and 
delusive  dream.  How  is  the  soul  to  escape  to 
heaven  if  it  has  neglected  for  a  lifetime  the  means 
of  escape  from  the  world  and  self?  And  where  is 
the  capacity  for  heaven  to  come  from  if  it  be  not 
developed  on  earth  ?  Where,  indeed,  is  even  the 
smallest  spiritual  appreciation  of  God  and  heaven 
to  come  from  when  so  little  of  spirituality  has  ever 
been  known  or  manifested  here?  If  every  God- 
ward  aspiration  of  the  soul  has  been  allowed  to  be- 
come extinct,  and  every  inlet  that  was  open  to 
heaven  to  be  choked,  and  every  talent  for  religious 
love  and  trust  to  have  been  persistently  neglected 
and  ignored,  where  are  the  faculties  to  come  from 
that  would  ever  find  the  faintest  relish  in  such 
things  as  God  and  heaven  give? 

These  three  words,  Salvation,  Escape,  and  Neg- 
lect, then,  are  not  casually,  but  organically  and 
necessarily  connected.  Their  doctrine  is  scientific, 
not  arbitrary.  Escape  means  nothing  more  than 
the  gradual  emergence  of  the  higher  being  from 
the  lower,  and  nothing  less.  It  means  the  gradual 
putting  off  of  all  that  cannot  enter  the  higher 
state,  or  heaven,  and  simultaneously  the  putting 
on  of  Christ.  It  involves  the  slow  completing  of 
the  soul  and  the  development  of  the  capacity  for 
God. 

Should  any  one  object  that  from  this  scientific 
standpoint  the  opposite  of  salvation  is  annihilation, 
the  answer  is  at  hand.  From  this  standpoint 
there  is  no  such  word. 


DEGENEEATIOlf.  97 

If,  ilien,  escape  is  to  be  open  to  us,  it  is  not  to 
come  to  us  somehow,  VE^Tiely.  We  nre  not  to 
liope  for  anything  stai'th  >g  or  mysterious.  It  is  a 
definite  opening  along  j.rtain  lines  which  are 
definitely  marked  by  (xod,  which  begin  at  the 
Cross  of  Christ,  and  lead  direct  to  Him.  Each 
man  in  the  silence  of  his  own  soul  must  work  out 
this  salvation  for  himself  with  fear  and  trembling 
— with  fear,  realizing  the  momentous  issues  of  his 
task;  with  trembling,  lest  before  the  tardy  work 
be  done  the  voice  of  Death  should  summon  him 
to  stop. 

What  these  lines  are  may,  in  closing,  be  indica- 
ted in  a  word.  The  true  problem  of  the  spiritual 
life  may  be  said  to  be,  do  the  023posite  of  Neglect. 
Whatever  this  is,  do  it,  and  you  shall  escape.  It 
will  just  mean  that  you  are  so  to  cultivate  the  soul 
that  all  its  powers  will  open  out  to  God,  and  in  be- 
holding God  be  drawn  away  from  sin.  The  idea 
really  is  to  develop  among  the  ruins  of  the  old  a 
new  "creature" — a  new  creature  which,  while 
the  old  is  sulfering  Degeneration  from  Neglect,  is 
gradually  to  unfold,  to  escape  away  and  develop 
on  spiritual  lines  to  spiritual  beauty  and  strength. 
And  as  our  conception  of  spiritual  being  must  be 
taken  simply  from  natural  being,  our  ideas  of  the 
lines  along  which  the  new  religious  nature  is  to  run 
must  be  borrowed  from  the  known  lines  of  the 
old. 

There  is,  for  example,  a  Sense  of  Sight  in  the 
religious  nature.  Neglect  this,  leave  it  undevel- 
oped and  you  naver  miss  it.  You  simply  see  noth- 
ing. But  develop  it  and  you  see  God.  And  the 
line  along  which  to  develop  it  is  known  to  us. 
Become  pure  in  heart.  The  pure  in  heart  shall 
see  God.  Here,  then,  is  one  opening  for  soul- 
culture — the  avenue  through  purity  of  heart  to  the 
spiritual  seeing  of  God. 

Then  there  is  a  Sense  of  Sound.  Neglect  this, 
leave  it  undeveloped,  and  you  never  miss  it.  You 
simply  hear  nothing.  Develop  it,  and  you  hear 
God.  And  the  line  along  which  to  develop  it  is 
known   to   us.      Obey   Christ.       Become   one   of 


98  DEGENERATION". 

Christ's  flock.  "  The  sheep  hear  His  voice,  and 
He  calleth  them  by  name."  Here,  then,  is 
another  opportunity  for  tlie  culture  of  the  soul — 
a  gateway  through  the  Shepherd's  fold  to  hear  the 
Shepherd's  voice. 

And  there  is  a  sense  of  Touch  to  be  acquired — 
such  a  sense  as  the  woman  had  who  touched  the 
liem  of  Christ's  garment,  that  wonderful  electric 
touch  called  faith,  which  moves  the  very  heart  of 
God. 

And  there  is  a  Sense  of  Taste — a  spiritual  hunger 
after  God;  a  something  within  which  tastes  and 
sees  that  He  is  good.  And  there  is  the  Talent  for 
Inspiration.  Neglect  that,  and  all  the  scenery  of 
the  spiritual  world  is  flat  and  frozen.  But  culti- 
vate it,  and  it  penetrates  the  whole  soul  with  sacred 
fire,  and  illuminates  creation  with  God.  And  last 
of  all  there  is  the  great  capacity  for  Love,  even  for 
the  love  of  God — the  expanding  capacity  for  feeling 
more  and  more  its  height  and  depth,  its  length 
and  breadth.  Till  that  is  felt  no  man  can  really 
understand  that  word,  "so  great  salvation,"  for 
what  is  its  measure  but  that  other  "  so  "  of  Christ 
— God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  gave  His  only 
begotten  Son?  Verily,  how  shall  we  escape  if  we 
neglect  that?* 

*  For  the  scientific  basis  of  this  spiritual  law  the  following  works 
may  be  consulted: — 

"The  Origin  of  Species."  By  Charles  Darwin,  F.R.8.  London; 
John  Murray.    1872. 

"Degeneration."  By  E.  Ray  Lankester,  F.R.S.  London :  Macmil 
lau.     1880. 

"Der  Ursprung  der  Wirbelthiere  und  das  Princip  dee  Functions 
Weohsels."    Dr.  A.  Dorhn.    Leipzig:  187.5. 

"Lessons  from  Nature."  By  St.  George  Mivart,  F.R.S.  London: 
John  Murray.     1876. 

"The  Natural  Conditions  of  Existence  as  they  Affect  Animal  Life." 
Karl  Semper.    London :  C.  Kegan  Paul  &  Co.    1881. 


GROWTH.  9y 


GROWTH. 


"Is  not  the  evidence  of  Ease  on  the  very  front  of  all  the  greatest 
works  in  existence?  Do  they  not  say  plainly  to  us,  not  'there  has  been 
a  great  effort  here,'  but  'there  has  been  a  great  power  here? '  It  is  not 
the  weariness  of  mortality  but  the  strength  of  divinity,  which  we 
have  to  recognize  in  all  mighty  things;  and  that  is  just  what  we  now 
never  recognize,  but  think  that  we  are  to  do  great  things  by  help  of 
iron  bars  and  perspiration;  alas!  we  shall  do  nothing  that  way,  but 
lose  some  pounds  of  our  own  weight." — Bu&kin. 

"Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field  how  they  grow."— rA«  Sermon  on 
the  Mount. 
"Nunquam  aliud  natura,  aliud  sapientia  6.\c\V^— Juvenal. 

What  gives  the  peculiar  point  to  this  object- 
lesson  from  the  lips  of  Jesus  is,  that  He  not  only 
made  the  illustration,  but  made  the  lilies.  It  is 
like  an  inventor  describing  his  own  machine.  He 
made  the  lilies  and  He  made  me — both  on  the  same 
broad  principle.  Both  together,  man  and  flower, 
He  planted  deep  in  the  Providence  of  God ;  but  as 
men  are  dull  at  studying  themselves  He  points  to 
this  companion-phenomenon  to  teach  us  how  to 
live  a  free  and  natural  life,  a  life  which  God  will 
unfold  for  us,  without  our  anxiety,  as  He  unfolds 
the  flower.  For  Christ's  words  are  not  a  general 
appeal  to  consider  nature.  Men  are  not  to  con- 
sider the  lilies  simply  to  admire  their  beauty,  to 
dream  over  the  delicate  strength  and  grace  of  stem 
and  leaf.  The  point  they  were  to  consider  was 
how  they  greiv — how  without  anxiety  or  care  the 
flower  woke  into  loveliness,  how^  without  weaving 
these  leaves  were  woven,  how  without  toiling  these 
complex  tissues  spun  themselves,  and  how  without 
any  effort  or  friction  the  whole  slowly  came  ready- 
made  from  the  loom  of  G'-^d  in  its  more  than  Sol- 
omon-like glory.  "So,"  He  says,  making  the  ap- 
plication beyond  dispute,  "you  care-worn,  anxious 


lOO  GROWTH. 

men  must  grow.  You,  too,  need  take  no  tliought 
for  your  life,  what  ye  shall  eat  or  what  ye  shall 
drink  or  what  ye  shall  put  on.  For  if  God  so 
clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  wliich  to-day  is,  and 
to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  shall  He  not 
much  more  clothe  you,  0  ye  of  little  faith?  " 

This  nature-lesson  was  a  great  novelty  in  its 
day;  but  all  men  now  who  have  even  a  "  little 
faith"  have  learned  this  Christian  secret  of  a  com- 
posed life.  Apai't  even  from  the  parable  of  the 
lily,  the  failures  of  the  past  have  taught  most  of 
us  the  folly  of  disquieting  ourselves  in  vain,  and 
we  have  given  up  the  idea  that  by  taking  thought 
we  can  add  a  cubit  to  our  stature. 

But  no  sooner  has  our  life  settled  down  to  this 
calm  trust  in  God  than  a  new  and  graver  anxiety 
begins.  This  time  it  is  not  for  the  body  we  are 
in  travail,  but  for  the  soul.  For  the  temporal 
life  we  have  considered  the  lilies,  but  how  is  the 
spiritual  life  to  grow.  How  are  we  to  become 
better  men?  How  are  we  to  grow  in  grace?  By 
'what  thought  shall  we  add  the  cubits  to  the 
spiritual  stature  and  reach  the  fullness  of  the 
Perfect  Man?  And  because  we  know  ill  how  to 
do  this,  the  old  anxiety  comes  back  again  and  our 
inner  life  is  once  more  an  agony  of  conflict  and 
remorse.  After  all,  we  have  but  transferred  our 
anxious  thoughts  from  the  body  to  the  soul.  Our 
efforts  after  Christian  growth  seem  only  a  succes- 
sion of  failures,  and  instead  of  rising  into  the 
beauty  of  holiness  our  life  is  a  daily  heartbreak 
and  humiliation. 

Now  the  reason  of  this  is  very  plain.  We  have 
forgotten  the  parable  of  the  lily.  Violeut  efforts 
to  grow  are  right  in  earnestness,  but  wholly  wrong 
in  principle.  There  is  but  one  principle  of  growth 
both  for  the  natural  and  spiritual,  for  animal  and 
plant,  for  body  and  soul.  For  all  growth  is  an 
organic  thing.  And  the  principle  of  growing  in 
grace  is  once  more  this,  "Consider  the  lilies  hoio 
they  grow.'" 

in  seeking  to  extend  the  analogy  from  the  body 
to  the  soul  there  are  two  things  about  the  lilies' 


GROWTH.  101 

growth,    two   characteristics    of    all    growth,    on 
which  one  must  fix  attention.     These  are — 

First,  Spontaneousness. 

Second,  M3-steriousness. 

I.  Spontaneousness.     There  are  three  lines  along 
which  one  may  seek  for  evidence  of  the  spontane- 
ousness of  growth.    The  first  is  Science.    And  the 
argument  here  could  not  be  summed  up  better 
than  in  the  words  of  Jesus.     The  lilies  grow,  He 
says,    of  themselves;    they   toil   not,    neither    do 
they    spin.     They   grow,  that   is,   automatically, 
spontaneously,  without  trying,  without  fretting, 
without  thinking.     Applied  in  any  direction,  to 
plant,  to  animal,  to  the  body  or  to  the  soul  this 
law  holds.     A  boy  grows,  for  example,  without 
trying.      One   or  two  simple  conditions  are  ful- 
filled, and  the  growth  goes  on.     He  thinks  prob- 
ably as  little  about  the  condition  as  about  the 
result;   he  fulfills  the  conditions   by  habit,  the 
result  follows    by  nature.      Both    processes    go 
steadily  on  from  year  to  year  apart  from  himself 
and  all  but  in  spite  of  himself.     One  would  never 
think  of  telUnrj  a  boy  to  grow.     A  doctor  has  no 
prescription  for  growth.      He   can  tell  me  how 
growth   may   be   stunted    or   impaired,    but   the 
process  itself  is  recognized  as  beyond  control — one 
of  the  few,  and  therefore  very  significant,  things 
which   Nature   keeps   in   her    own    hands.      No 
physician    of    souls,    in    like    manner,    has    any 
l^rescription  for  spiritual  growth.     It  is  the  ques- 
tion   he    is  most   often    asked   and   most  often 
answers  wrongly.     He  may  prescribe  more  earnest- 
ness,   niore    prayer,    more    self-denial,    or    more 
Christian    work.      These    are    prescriptions    for 
something,  but  not  for  groivth.     Not  that  they 
may  not  encourage  growth;    but  the  soul  grows 
as  the  lily  grows,  without  trying,  without  fretting, 
without  ever  thinking.    Manuals  of  devotion,  with 
complicated  rules  for  getting  on  in  the  Christian 
life,  would  do  well  sometimes  to  return  to  the 
simplicity  of  nature;    and  earnest  souls  who  are 
attempting  sanctification  by  struggle  instead   of 
"^Bctification   by  faith    might   be   spared    much 


103  GKOWTH. 

humiliation  by  learning  the  botany  of  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount.  There  can  indeed  be  no  other 
principle  of  growth  than  this.  It  is  a  vital  act. 
And  to  try  to  make  a  thing  grow  is  as  absurd  as 
to  help  the  tide  to  come  in  or  the  sun  rise. 

Another  argument  for  the  spontaneousness  of 
growth  is  universal  experience.  A  boy  not  only 
grows  without  trying,  but  he  cannot  grow  if  he 
tries.  No  man  by  taking  thought  has  ever 
added  a  cubit  to  his  stature;  nor  has  any  man  by 
mere  working  at  his  soul  ever  approached  nearer 
to  the  stature  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  The  stature  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  was  hot  itself  reached  by  Avork, 
and  he  who  thinks  to  approach  its  mystical  height 
by  anxious  effort  is  realty  receding  from  it. 
Christ's  life  unfolded  itself  from  a  divine  germ, 
planted  centrally  in  His  nature,  wliich  gi'ew  as 
naturally  as  a  flower  from  a  bud.  This  flower  may 
be  imitated;  but  one  can  always  tell  an  artificial 
flower.  The  human  form  may  be  copied  in  wax, 
yet  somehow  one  never  fails  to  detect  the  differ- 
ence. And  this  precisely  is  the  difference  between 
a  native  growth  of  Christian  principle  and  the 
moral  copy  of  it.  The  one  is  natural,  the  other 
mechanical.  The  one  is  a  growth,  the  other  an 
accretion.  Now  this,  according  to  modern  biology, 
is  the  fundamental  distinction  between  the  living 
and  the  not  living,  between  an  organism  and  a  crys- 
tal. The  living  organism  grows,  the  dead  crystal 
increases.  The  first  grows  vitally  from  within,  the 
last  adds  new  particles  from  the  outside.  The  whole 
difference  between  the  Christian  and  the  moralist 
lies  here.  The  Christian  works  from  the  center, 
the  moralist  from  the  circumference.  The  one 
is  an  organism,  in  the  center  of  Avhich  is  planted 
by  the  living  God  a  living  germ.  The  other  is 
a  crystal,  very  beautiful  it  may  be;  but  only  a 
crystal — it  wants  the  vital  principle  of  growth. 

And  one  sees  here  also,  what  is  sometimes  very 
difficult  to  see,  why  salvation  in  the  first  instance 
is  never  connected  directly  Avith  morality.  The 
reason  is  not  that  salvation  does  not  demand 
morality,  but  that  it  demands  so  much  of  it  that 


GROWTH.  103 

the  moralist  can  never  reach  up  to  it.  The  end 
of  Salvation  is  perfection,  the  Christ-like  mind, 
character  and  life.  Morality  is  on  the  way  to 
this  perfection;  it  may  go  a  considerable  distance 
toward  it,  but  it  can  never  reach  it.  Only  Life 
can  do  that.  It  requires  something  with  enor- 
mous power  of  movement,  of  growth,  of  overcom- 
ing obstacles,  to  attain  the  perfect.  Therefore 
the  man  who  has  within  himself  this  great  form- 
ative agent.  Life,  is  nearer  the  end  than  the  man 
who  has  morality  alone.  The  latter  can  never 
reach  perfection;  the  former  must.  For  the  Life 
must  develop  out  according  to  its  type;  and 
being  a  germ  of  the  Christ-life,  it  must  unfold 
into  a  Christ.  Morality,  at  the  utmost,  only 
develops  the  character  in  one  or  two  directions. 
It  may  perfect  a  single  virtue  here  and  there,  but 
it  cannot  perfect  all.  And  especially  it  fails 
always  to  give  that  rounded  harmony  of  parts,  that 
perfect  tune  to  the  whole  orchestra,  which  is  the 
marked  characteristic  of  life.  Perfect  life  is  not 
merely  the  possessing  of  perfect  functions,  but 
of  perfect  functions  perfectly  adjusted  to  each 
other  and  all  conspiring  to  a  single  result,  the 
perfect  working  of  the  whole  organism.  It  is 
not  said  that  the  character  will  develop  in  all  its 
fullness  in  this  life.  That  were  a  time  too  short 
for  an  Evolution  so  magnificent.  In  this  world 
^nly  the  cornless  ear  is  seen;  sometimes  only  the 
small  yet  still  prophetic  blade.  The  sneer  at  the 
godly  man  for  his  imperfections  is  ill-judged.  A 
blade  is  a  small  thing.  At  first  it  grows  very 
near  the  earth.  It  is  often  soiled  and  crushed 
and  downtrodden.  But  it  is  a  living  thing. 
That  great  dead  stone  beside  it  is  more  imposing; 
only  it  will  never  be  anything  else  than  a  stone. 
But  this  small  blade — it  doth  not  yet  ap2)ear  what 
it  shall  he. 

Seeing  now  that  Growth  can  only  be  synony- 
mous with  a  living  automatic  process,  it  is  all 
but  superfluous  to  seek  a  third  line  of  argument 
from  Scripture.  Growth  there  is  always  described 
in  the  language  of  physiology.     The  regenerate 


104  GROWTH. 

soul  is  a  new  creature.  The  Christian  is  a  new 
man  in  Christ  Jesus.  He  adds  the  cubits  to  his 
stature  just  as  the  okl  man  does.  He  is  rooted 
and  built  up  in  Christ;  he  abides  in  the  vine, 
and  so  abiding,  not  toiling  or  spinning,  brings 
forth  fruit.  The  Christian  in  short,  like  the 
poet,  is  born  not  made;  and  the  fruits  .of  his 
character  are  not  manufactured  things  but  living 
things,  things  which  have  grown  from  the  secret 
germ,  the  fruits  of  the  living  Spirit.  They  are 
not  the  produce  of  this  climate,  but  exotics  fi'om 
a  sunnier  land. 

II.  But,  secondly,  besides  this  Spontaneousness 
there  is  this  other  great  characteristic  of  Growth — 
Mysteriousness.  Upon  this  quality  depends  the 
fact,  probably,  that  so  few  men  ever  fathom  its 
real  character.  We  are  most  un spiritual  always  in 
dealing  with  the  simplest  spiritual  things.  A 
lily  grows  mysteriously,  pushing  up  its  solid 
weight  of  stem  and  leaf  in  the  teeth  of  gravity. 
Shaped  into  beauty  by  secret  and  invisible  fingers, 
the  flower  develops  we  know  not  how.  But  we 
do  not  wonder  at  it.  Every  dav  the  thing  is 
done;  it  is  Nature,  it  is  God.  We  are  spiritual 
enough  at  least  to  understand  that.  But  when 
the  soul  rises  slowly  above  the  world,  pushing  up 
its  delicate  virtues  in  the  teeth  of  sin,  shaping 
itself  mysteriously  into  the  image  of  Christ,  we 
deny  that  the  power  is  not  of  man.  A  strong 
will,  we  say,  a  high  ideal,  the  reward  of  virtue, 
Christian  influence — these  will  account  for  it. 
Spiritual  character  is  merely  the  product  _  of 
anxious  work,  self-command,  and  self-denial. 
We  allow,  that  is  to  say,  a  miracle  to  the  lily,  but 
none  to  the  man.  The  lily  may  grow;  the  man 
must  fret  and  toil  and  spin. 

Now  grant  for  a  moment  that  by  hard  work 
and  self-restraint  a  man  may  attain  to  a  very  high 
character.  It  is  not  denied  that  this  can  be  done. 
But  what  is  denied  is  that  this  is  growth,  and  that 
this  process  is  Christianity.  The  fact  that  you 
can  account  for  it  proves  that  it  is  not  growth. 
For  growth  is  mysterious;  tlie  neculiarity  of  it  is 


GROWTH.  lOo 

that  yoii  cannot  account  for  it.  Mysteriousness, 
as  Mozley  has  well  observed,  is  "the  test  of 
spiritual  birth."  And  this  was  Christ's  test. 
"The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth.  Thou  hear- 
est  the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it 
Cometh  or  whither  it  goeth,  so  is  evert/  one  that  is 
horn  of  the  Spirit."  The  test  of  spirituality  is 
that  yen  cannot  tell  whence  it  cometli  or  whitlier 
it  goeth.  If  you  can  tell,  if  you  can  account  for 
it  on  philosojihical  principles,  on  the  doctrine  of 
influence,  on  strength  of  will,  on  a  favorable 
environment,  it  is  not  growth.  It  may  be  so  far 
a  success,  it  may  be  a  perfectly  honest,  even 
remarkable,  and  praiseworthy  imitation,  but  it  is 
not  the  real  thing.  The  fruits  are  wax,  the 
flowers  artificial — you  can  tell  whence  it  cometh 
and  whither  it  goeth. 

The  conclusion  is,  then,  that  the  Christian  is 
a  unique  jihenomenon.  You  cannot  account  for 
him.  And  if  you  could  he  would  not  be  a  Chris- 
tian. Mozley  has  drawn  the  two  characters  for 
us  in  graphic  words:  "Take  an  ordinary  man  of 
the  world — what  he  thinks  and  what  he  does,  his 
whole  standard  of  duty  is  taken  from  the  society 
in  which  he  lives.  It  is  a  borrowed  standard:  he 
is  as  good  as  other  people  are;  he  does,  in  the  way 
of  duty,  what  is  generally  considered  proper  and 
becoming  among  those  with  whom  his  lot  is 
thrown.  He  reflects  established  opinion  on  such 
points.  He  follows  its  lead.  His  aims  and 
objects  in  life  again  are  taken  from  the  world 
around  him,  and  from  its  dictation.  What  it 
considers  honorable,  worth  having,  advantageous 
and  good,  he  thinks  so  too  and  jDursues  it.  His 
motives  all  come  from  a  visible  quarter.  It  would 
be  absurd  to  say  that  there  is  any  mystery  in  such 
a  character  a^  this,  because  it  is  formed  from  a 
known  external  influence — the  influence  of  social 
opinion  and  the  voice  of  the  world.  'Whence 
such  a  character  cometh'  we  see;  we  venture  to 
say  that  the  source  and  origin  of  it  is  open  and 
paljiable,  and  we  know  it  just  as  we  know  the 
phj'sical  causes  of  many  common  facts." 


106  GROWTH. 

Then  there  is  the  other.  "There  is  a  certain 
character  and  disposition  of  mind  of  which  it  is 
true  to  say  that  'thou  canst  not  tell  whence  it 
Cometh  or  whither  it  goeth.'  .  .  .  There  are 
those  who  stand  out  from  among  the  crowd, 
whicli  reflects  merely  the  atmosphere  of  feeling 
and  standard  of  society  around  it,  with  an  impress 
upon  them  which  bespeaks  a  heavenly  birth. 
.  .  .  Now,  when  we  see  one  of  those  charac- 
ters, it  is  a  question  which  we  ask  ourselves,  How 
has  the  person  become  possessed  of  it?  Has  ht 
caught  it  from  society  around  him?  That  cannot 
be,  because  it  is  wholly  different  from  that  of  the 
world  around  him.  Has  he  caught  it  from  the 
inoculation  of  crowds  and  masses,  as  the  mere 
religious  zealot  catches  his  character?  That 
cannot  be  either,  for  the  type  is  altogether  differ- 
ent from  that  which  masses  of  men,  under 
enthusiastic  impulses,  exhibit.  There  is  nothing 
gregarious  in  this  character;  it  is  the  individual's 
own;  it  is  not  borrowed,  it  is  not  a  reflection  of 
any  fashion  or  tone  of  the  world  outside;  it  rises 
up  from  some  fount  within,  and  it  is  a  creation 
of  which  the  text  says.  We  know  not  whence  i^ 
Cometh."* 

Now  we  have  all  met  these  two  characters — the 
one  eminently  resijectable,  upright,  virtuous,  a 
trifle  cold  perhaps,  and  generally,  when  critically 
examined,  revealing  somehow  the  mark  of  the 
tool;  the  other  with  God's  breath  still  upon  it,  an 
inspiration;  not  more  virtuous,  but  differently 
virtuous;  not  more  humble,  but  different,  wearing 
the  meek  and  quiet  spirit  artlessly  as  to  the 
manner  born.  The  other-worldliness  of  such  a 
character  is  the  thing  that  strikes  you;  you  are 
not  prepared  for  what  it  will  do  or  say  or 
become  next,  for  it  moves  from  a  far-off  center, 
and  in  spite  of  its  transparency  and  sweetness 
that  presence  fills  you  always  with  awe.  A  man 
never  feels  the  discord  of  his  own  life,  never 
hears  the  jar  of  the  machinery  by  which  he  tries 

*  University  Sermons,  pp.  334-841. 


GROWTH.  10? 

to  manufacture  his  own  good  points,  till  he  has 
stood  in  the  stillness  of  such  a  presence.  Then 
he  discerns  the  ditference  between  growth  and 
work.  He  has  considered  the  lilies,  how  they 
grow. 

We  have  now  seen  Ihtit  sjjiritual  growth  is  a 
process  maintained  and  secured  by  a  spontaneous 
and  mysterious  inward  principle.  It  is  a  sponta- 
neous principle  even  in  its  origin,  for  it  bloweth 
where  it  listeth;  mysterious  in  its  operation,  for 
we  can  never  tell  whence  it  cometh;  obscure  in  its 
destination,  for  we  cannot  tell  whence  it  goeth. 
The  whole  process  therefore  transcends  us;  we  do 
not  work,  we  are  taken  in  hand — "  it  is  God  which 
worketh  in  us,  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good 
pleasure."  We  do  not  plan — we  are  "created  in 
Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works,  which  God  hath 
before  ordained  that  we  should  walk  in  them." 

There  may  be  an  obvious  objection  to  all  this. 
It  takes  away  all  conflict  from  the  Christian  life? 
It  makes  man,  does  it  not,  mere  clay  in  the  hands 
of  the  potter?  Ir  crushes  the  old  character  to 
make  a  new  one,  and  destroys  man's  responsibility 
for  his  own  soul? 

Now  we  are  not  concerned  here  in  once  more 
striking  the  time-honored  "balance  between  faith 
and  works."  We  are  considering  how  lilies  grow, 
and  in  a  specific  connection,  namely,  to  discover 
the  attitude  of  mind  which  the  Christian  should 
preserve  regarding  his  spiritual  growth.  That 
attitude,  primarily,  is  to  be  free  from  care.  We 
are  not  lodging  a  plea  for  inactivity  of  the  spirit- 
ual energies,  but  for  the  tranquillity  of  the  spiritual 
mind.  Christ's  protest  is  not  against  work,  but 
against  anxious  thought;  and  rather,  therefore, 
than  complement  the  lesson  by  showing  the  other 
side,  we  take  the  risk  of  still  further  extending  the 
'plea  in  the  original  direction. 

What  is  the  relation,  to  recur  again  to  analogy, 
between  growth  and  work  in  a  boy?  Consciously, 
there  is  no  relation  at  all.  The  boy  never  thinks 
of  connecting  his  work  with  his  growth.  Work 
iu  fact  is  one  thing  and  growth  another,  and  it  is 


108  GROWTH. 

SO  in  tlie  spiritual  life.  If  it  be  asked  therefore, 
Is  the  Christian  wrong  in  these  ceaseless  and  agon- 
izing efforts  after  growth  ?  the  answer  is,  Yes,  he  is 
quite  wrong,  or  at  least,  he  is  quite  mistaken. 
When  a  boy  takes  a  meal  or  denies  himself  indi- 
gestible things,  he  does  not  say,  "All  this  will 
minister  to  my  growth;"  or  when  he  runs  a  race 
he  does  not  say,  "  This  will  help  the  next  cubit 
of  my  stature."  It  may  or  it  may  not  be  true  that 
these  things  will  help  his  stature,  but,  if  he  thinks 
of  this,  his  idea  of  growth  is  morbid.  And  this  is 
the  point  we  are  dealing  with.  His  anxiety  here 
is  altogether  irrelevant  and  superfluous.  Nature  is 
far  more  bountiful  than  Ave  think.  AVhen  she  gives 
us  energy  she  asks  none  of  it  back  to  expend  on 
our  own  growth.  She  will  attend  to  that.  "Give 
your  work,"  she  says,  "  and  your  anxiety  to  others; 
trust  me  to  add  the  cubits  to  your  stature."  If 
God  is  adding  to  our  spiritual  stature,  unfolding 
the  new  nature  within  us,  it  is  a  mistake  to  keep 
twitching  at  the  petals  with  our  coarse  fingers. 
We  must  seek  to  let  the  Creative  Hand  alone. 
"  It  is  God  which  giveth  the  increase."  Yet  we 
never  know  how  little  we  have  learned  of  the  fun- 
damental principle  of  Christianity  till  we  discover 
how  much  we  are  all  bent  on  supplementing  God's 
free  grace.  If  God  is  spending  work  upon  a 
Christian,  let  him  be  still  and  know  that  it  is  God. 
And  if  he  wants  work,  he  will  find  it  there — in  the 
being  still. 

Not  that  there  is  no  work  for  him  who  would 
grow,  to  do.  There  is  work,  and  severe  work — 
work  so  great  that  the  worker  deserves  to  have 
himself  relieved  of  all  that  is  superfluous  during 
his  task.  If  the  amount  of  energy  lost  in  trying 
to  grow  were  spent  in  fulfilling  rather  the  con- 
ditions of  growth,  we  should  have  many  more 
cubits  to  show  for  our  stature.  It  is  with  these 
conditions  that  the  personal  work  of  the  Christian 
is  chiefly  concerned.  Observe  for  a  moment  what 
they  are,  and  their  exact  relation.  For  its  growth 
the  plant  needs  heat,  light,,  air,  and  moisture. 
A  man,  therefore,  must  go  in  search  of  these,  or 


GROWTir.  109 

their  spiritual  equivuleuts,  and  this  is  his  work? 
By  no  means.  The  Christian's  work  is  not  yet. 
Does  the  plant  go  in  search  of  its  conditions? 
Nay,  the  conditions  come  to  tlie  phmt.  It  no 
more  mannfactures  the  heat,  light,  air,  and  mois- 
ture, than  it  manufactures  its  own  stem.  It  finds 
them  all  around  it  in  Nature.  It  simjily  stands 
still  with  its  leaves  spread  out  in  unconscious 
praj^er,  and  Nature  lavishes  upon  it  these  and  all 
other  bounties,  bathing  it  in  sunshine,  pouring 
the  nourishing  air  over  and  over  it,  reviving  it 
graciously  with  its  nightly  dew.  Grace,  too,  is  as 
free  as  the  air.  The  Loi-d  God  is  a  Sun.  He  is 
as  the  Dew  to  Israel.  A  man  has  no  more  to 
manufacture  these  than  he  has  to  manufacture  his 
own  soul.  He  stands  surrounded  by  them,  bathed 
in  them,  beset  behind  and  before  by  them.  He 
lives  and  moves  and  has  his  being  in  them.  How 
then  shall  he  go  in  search  of  them?  Do  not  they 
rather  go  in  search  of  him  ?  Does  he  not  feel  how 
they  press  themselves  upon  him?  Does  he  not 
know  how  unweariedly  they  appeal  to  him?  Has 
he  not  heard  how  they  are  sorrowful  when  he  will 
not  have  them?  His  work,  therefore,  is  not  yet. 
The  voice  still  says,  "  Be  still." 

The  conditions  of  growth,  then,  and  the  inward 
principle  of  growth  being  both  supplied  by  Nature, 
the  thing  man  has  to  do,  the  little  junction  left 
for  him  to  complete,  is  to  apply  the  one  to  the 
other.  He  manufactures  nothing;  he  earns  noth  ■ 
ing;  he  need  be  anxious  for  nothing;  his  one  duty 
is  to  he  in  these  conditions,  to  abide  in  them,  to 
allow  grace  to  play  over  him,  to  be  still  therein 
and  know  that  this  is  God. 

The  conflict  begins  and  prevails  in  all  its  life- 
long agony  the  moment  a  man  forgets  this.  He 
struggles  to  grow  himself  instead  of  struggling  to 
get  back  again  into  position.  He  makes  the 
church  into  a  workshop  when  God  meant  it  to  be 
a  beautiful  garden.  And  even  in  his  closet, 
where  only  should  reign  silence — a  silence  as  of 
the  mountains  whereon  the  lilies  grow — is  heard 
the  roar  and  tumult  of  machinery.     Trno,  a  num 


110  GROWTH. 

will  often  have  to  wrestle  with  his  God — but  not 
for  growth.  The  Christian  life  is  a  composed  life. 
The  Gospel  is  Peace.  Yet  the  most  anxious  people 
in  the  world  are  Christians — Christians  who  mis- 
understand the  nature  of  growtli.  Life  is  a  per- 
petual self-condemning  because  they  are  not  grow- 
ing. And  the  effect  is  not  only  the  loss  of  tran- 
quillity to  the  indvidual.  The  energies  which  are 
meant  to  be  spent  on  the  work  of  Christ  are  con- 
sumed in  the  soul's  own  fever.  So  long -as  the 
Church's  activities  are  spent  on  growing  there  is 
nothing  to  spare  for  the  world.  A  soldier's  time 
is  not  spent  in  earning  the  money  to  buy  his 
armor,  in  finding  food  and  raiment,  in  seeking 
shelter.  His  king  provides  these  things  that  he 
may  be  the  more  at  liberty  to  fight  his  battles. 
So,  for  the  soldier  of  the  Cross  all  is  provided. 
His  Government  has  planned  to  leave  him  free  for 
the  Kingdom's  work. 

The  problem  of  the  Christian  life  finally  is  sim- 
plified to  this — man  has  but  to  preserve  the  right 
attitude.  To  abide  in  Christ,  to  be  in  position, 
that  is  all.  Much  work  is  done  on  board  a  ship 
crossing  the  Atlantic.  Yet  none  of  it  is  spent  on 
making  the  ship  go.  The  sailor  but  harnesses  his 
vessel  to  the  Avind.  He  puts  his  sail  and  rudder 
in  position,  and  lo,  the  miracle  is  wrought.  So 
everywhere  God  creates,  man  utilizes.  All  the 
work  of  the  world  is  merely  a  taking  advantage  of 
energies  already  there.  *  God  gives  the  wind,  and 
the  water,  and  the  heat;  man  but  puts  himself  in 
the  way  of  the  wind,  fixes  his  water-wheel  in  tbe 
way  of  the  river,  puts  his  piston  in  the  way  of  the 
steam;  and  so  holding  himself  in  position  before 
God's  Spirit,  all  the  energies  of  Omnij^otence 
course  within  his  soul.  He  is  like  a  tree  planted 
by  a  river  whose  leaf  is  green  and  whose  fruits  fail 
not.  Such  is  the  deeper  lesson  to  be  learned  from 
considering  the  lily.  It  is  the  voice  of  Nature 
echoing  the  whole  evangel  of  Jesus,  ' '  Come  unto 
Me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 

*  See  liushueirs  "New  Life." 


DBATH.  Ill 


DEATH. 


"What  couldlbe  easier  than  to  form  a  catena  of  the  most  philo- 
sophical defenders  of  Christianity,  who  have  exhausted  language  in 
declaring  tlie  impotence  of  the  unassisted  intellect?  Comte  has  not 
more  explicitly  enounced  the  incapacity  of  man  to  deal  with  the 
Absolute  and  the  Infinite  than  the  whole  series  of  orthodox  writers. 
Trust  your  reason,  we  have  been  told  till  we  are  tired  of  the  phrase, 
and  you  will  become  Atheists  or  Agnostics.  We  take  you  at  your 
word;  we  become  Agnostics." — Leslie  Stephen. 

"To  be  carnally  minded  is  Death." — Paul. 

"I  do  not  wonder  at  what  men  suffer,  but  I  wonder  often  at  what 
they  lose."— ^««^-i7^. 

"Death,"  wrote  Faber,  "is  an  unsurveyed 
land,  an  nnarranged  Science."  Poetry  draws  near 
Death  only  to  hover  over  it  for  a  moment  and  with- 
draw in  terror.  History  knows  it  simply  as  a  uni- 
versal fact.  Philosophy  finds  it  among  the  mys- 
teries of  being,  the  one  great  mystery  of  being  not. 
All  contributions  to  this  dead  theme  are  marked 
by  an  essential  vagueness,  and  every  avenue  of  ap- 
proach seems  darkened  by  impenetrable  shadow. 

But  modern  Biology  has  found  it  part  of  its 
work  to  push  its  way  into  this  silent  land,  and  at 
last  the  world  is  confronted  with  a  scientific  treat- 
ment of  Death.  Not  that  much  is  added  to  the  old 
conception,  or  much  taken  from  it.  What  it  is, 
this  certain  Death  with  its  uncertain  issues,  Ave 
know  as  little  as  before.  But  we  can  define  more 
clearly  and  attach  a  narrower  meaning  to  the  mo- 
mentous symbol. 

The  interest  of  the  investigation  here  lies  in  the 
fact  that  Death  is  one  of  the  outstanding  things  in 
Nature  which  has  an  acknowledged  spiritual  equiv- 
alent. The  prominence  of  the  word  in  the  vocab- 
ulary of  Revelation  cannot  be  exaggerated.  Next 
to  Life  the  most  pregnant  symbol  in  religion  is  its 


113  DBATH. 

antithesis,  Death.  And  from  the  time  that  "  If 
thou  eatest  thereof  thou  shalt  surely  die"  was 
heard  in  Paradise,  this  solemn  word  has  been 
linked  with  liuman  interests  of  eternal  moment. 

Notwithstanding  the  unparalleled  emphasis 
upon  this  term  in  the  Christian  system,  there  is 
none  more  feebly  expressive  to  the  ordinary  mind. 
That  mystery  which  surrounds  the  word  in  the 
natural  world  shrouds  only  too  completely  its 
spiritual  import.  The  reluctance  which  prevents 
men  from  investigating  the  secrets  of  the  King  of 
Terrors  is  for  a  certain  length  entitled  to  respect. 
But  it  has  left  theology  with  only  the  vaguest  ma- 
terials to  construct  a  doctrine  which,  intelligently 
enforced,  ought  to  appeal  to  all  men  with  convinc- 
ing power  and  lend  the  most  effective  argument  to 
Christianity.  Whatever  may  have  been  its  influ- 
ence in  the  past,  its  threat  is  gone  for  the  modern 
world.  The  word  has  grown  weak.  Ignorance 
has  robbed  the  Grave  of  all  its  terror,  and  plati- 
tude despoiled  Death  of  its  sting.  Death  itself 
is  ethically  dead.  Which  of  us,  for  example, 
enters  fully  into  the  meaning  of  words  like  these: 
"She  that  liveth  in  pleasure  is  dead  while  she 
liveth?"  Who  allows  adequate  weight  to  the 
metaphor  in  the  Pauline  phrase,  "  To  be  car- 
nally minded  is  Death  ;  "  or  in  this,  "  The  wages 
of  ain  is  Death?"  Or  what  theology  has  trans- 
lated into  the  language  of  human  life  the  ter- 
rific practical  import  of  "  Dead  in  trespasses  and 
sins?  "  To  seek  to  make  these  phrases  once  more 
real  and  burning;  to  clothe  time-worn  formulae 
with  living  truth;  to  put  the  deepest  ethical  mean- 
ing into  the  gravest  symbol  of  Nature,  and  fill  up 
with  its  full  consequence  the  darkest  threat  of 
Revelation — these  are  the  objects  before  us  now. 

What,  then,  is  Death?  Is  it  possible  to  define 
it  and  embody  its  essential  meaning  in  an  intelli- 
gible proposition? 

The  most  recent  and  the  most  scientific  attempt 
to  investigate  Death  we  owe  to  the  biological 
studies  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer.  In  his  search  for 
the  meaning  of  Life  the  word  Death  crosses  his 


DEATH.  113 

path,  and  he  turns  aside  for  a  moment  to  define  it. 
Of  course  what  Death  is  depends  upon  what  Life 
is.  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  definition  of  Life,  it  is 
well  known,  has  been  subjected  to  serious  criti- 
cism. "While  it  has  shed  much  light  on  many  of 
the  phenomena  of  Life,  it  cannot  be  affirmed  that 
it  has  taken  its  place  in  science  as  the  final  solution 
of  the  fundamental  problem  of  biology.  No  defi- 
nition of  Life,  indeed,  that  has  yet  appeared  can  be 
said  to  be  even  approximately  correct.  Its  mys- 
terious quality  evades  us;  and  we  have  to  be  con- 
tent with  outward  characteristics  and  accompani- 
ments, leaving  the  thing  itself  an  unsolved  riddle. 
At  the  same  time  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  masterly 
elucidation  of  the  chief  phenomena  of  Life  has 
placed  philosophy  and  science  under  many  obliga- 
tions, and  in  the  paragraphs  which  follow  we  shall 
have  to  incur  a  further  debt  on  behalf  of  religion. 
The  meaning  of  Death  depending,  as  has  been 
said,  on  the  meaning  of  Life,  we  must  first  set 
ourselves  to  grasp  the  leading  characteristics 
which  distinguish  living  things.  To  a  physiol- 
ogist the  living  organism  is  distinguished  from 
the  not-living  by  the  performance  of  certain  func- 
tions. These  functions  are  four  in  number — 
Assimilation,  Waste,  Reproduction,  and  Growth. 
Nothing  could  be  a  more  interesting  task  than  to 
point  out  the  co-relatives  of  these  in  the  spiritual 
sphere,  to  show  in  what  ways  the  discharge  of 
these  functions  represent  the  true  manifestations 
of  spiritual  life,  and  how  the  failure  to  perform 
them  constitutes  spiritual  Death.  But  it  will 
bring  us  more  directly  to  the  specific  subject 
before  us  if  we  follow  rather  the  newer  biological 
lines  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer.  According  to  his 
definition,  Life  is  "The  definite  coiubination  of 
heterogeneous  changes,  both  simultaneous  and 
successive,  in  correspondence  with  external  co- 
existences and  sequences,''*  or  more  shortly  "The 
continuous  adjustment  of  internal  relations  to 
external  relations."!      An  example  or  two  will 

*  "Principles  of  Biology,"  vol.  i,  p.  74.        t  ^l^id. 


114  DEATH. 

render  these  important  statements  at  once  intel- 
ligible. 

The  essential  characteristic  of  a  living  organisms 
according  to  these  definitions,  is  that  it  is  in 
vital  connection  with  its  general  surroundings. 
A  human  being,  for  instance,  is  in  direct  contact 
with  the  earth  and  air,  with  all  surrounding 
things,  with  the  warmth  of  the  sun,  with  the 
music  of  birds,  with  the  countless  influences  and 
activities  of  nature  and  of  his  fellow-men.  In 
biological  language  he  is  said  thus  to  be  "in 
correspondence  with  his  environment."  He  is, 
that  is  to  say,  in  active  and  vital  connection 
with  them,  influencing  them  possibly,  but  especi- 
ally being  influenced  by  them.  Now  it  is  in 
virtue  of  this  correspondence  that  he  is  entitled 
to  be  called  alive.  So  long  as  he  is  in  correspond- 
ence with  any  given  point  of  his  environment, 
he  lives.  To  keep  up  this  correspondence  is  to 
keep  up  life.  If  his  environment  changes  he 
must  instantly  adjust  himself  to  the  change. 
And  he  continues  living  only  as  long  as  he 
succeeds  in  adjusting  himself  to  the  "simultane- 
ous and  successive  changes  in  his  environment" 
as  these  occur.  What  is  meant  by  a  change  in 
his  environment  may  be  understood  from  an 
example,  which  will  at  the  same  time  define  more 
clearly  the  intimacy  of  the  relation  between 
environment  and  organism.  Let  us  take  the  case 
of  a  civil-servant  whose  environment  is  a  district 
in  India.  It  is  a  region  subject  to  occasional 
and  prolonged  droughts  resulting  in  periodical 
famines.  When  such  a  period  of  scarcity  arises, 
he  proceeds  immediately  to  adjust  himself  to  this 
external  change.  Having  the  power  of  locomo- 
tion, he  may  remove  himself  to  a  more  fertile 
district,  or,  possessing  the  means  of  purchase,  he 
may  add  to  his  old  environment  by  importation 
the  "external  relations"  necessary  to  continued 
life.  But  i^  from  any  cfiuse  he  fails  to  adjust 
liimself  to  the  altered  circumstances,  his  body  is 
thrown  out  of  correspondence  with  his  environ- 
ment,  his   "internal    relations"   are    no    longer 


DEATH.  115 

adjusted  to  his  "external  relations,"  and  his 
life  must  cease. 

In  ordinary  cireunistunces^,  and  in  health,  the 
human  organism  is  in  thorough  correspondence 
with  its  surroundings;  but  when  any  part  of  the 
organism  by  disease  or  accident  is  thrown  out  of 
correspijndeuce,  it  is  in  that  relation  dead. 

This  Death,  this  want  of  correspondence,  may 
be  either  partial  or  complete.  Part  of  the  organ- 
ism may  be  dead  to  a  part  of  the  environment, 
or  the  whole  to  the  whole.  Thus  the  victim  of 
famine  may  have  a  certain  number  of  his  cor- 
respondences arrested  by  the  change  in  his 
environment,  but  not  all.  Luxuries  which  he 
once  enjoyed  no  longer  enter  the  country,  animals 
which  once  furnished  his  table  are  driven  from 
it.  These  still  exist,  but  they  are  beyond  the 
limit  of  his  correspondence.  In  relation  to  these 
things  therefore  he  is  dead.  In  one  sense  it 
might  be  said  that  it  was  the  environment  which 
played  him  false;  in  another,  that  it  was  his  own 
organization — that  he  was  unable  to  adjust  him- 
self, or  did  not.  But,  however  caused,  he  pays 
the  penalty  with  partial  Death. 

Suppose  next  the  case  of  a  man  who  is  thrown 
out  of  correspondence  with  a  part  of  his  environ- 
ment by  some  physical  infirmity.  Let  it  be  that 
by  disease  or  accident  he  has  been  deprived  of 
the  use  of  his  ears.  The  deaf  man,  in  virtue  of 
this  imperfection,  is  thrown  out  of  r airport  with 
a  large  and  well-defined  part  of  the  environment, 
namely,  its  sounds.  With  regard  to  that  "exter- 
nal relation,"  therefore,  he  is  no  longer  living. 
Part  of  him  may  truly  be  held  to  be  insensible 
or  "Dead."  A  man  who  is  also  blind  is  thrown 
out  of  correspondence  with  another  large  part  of 
his  environment.  The  beauty  of  sea  and  sky, 
the  forms  of  cloud  and  mountain,  the  features 
and  gestures  of  friends,  are  to  him  as  if  they 
were  not.  They  are  there,  solid  and  real,  but  not 
to  him;  he  is  still  further  "Dead."  Next,  let 
it  be  conceived,  the  subtle  nnger  of  cerebral 
disease  lays  hold   of  him.     His  whole   brain   is 


116  DEATH. 

affected,  and  the  sensoi'y  nerves,  the  medium  of 
communication  with  the  environment,  cease 
altogether  to  acquaint  him  witli  what  is  doing  in 
the  outside  world.  The  outside  world  is  still 
there,  hut  not  to  him;  he  is  still  further  "Dead." 
And  so  the  death  of  parts  goes  on.  He  becomes 
less  and  less  alive.  "Were  the  animal  f#ame  not 
the  complicated  machine  we  have  seen  it  to  be, 
death  might  come  as  a  simple  and  gradual  disso- 
lution, the  'sans  everything'  being  the  last  stage 
of  the  successive  loss  of  fundamental  powers."* 
But  finally  some  important  part  of  the  mere* 
animal  framework  that  remains  breaks  down. 
The  correlation  with  the  other  parts  is  very 
intimate,  and  the  stoppage  of  correspondence 
with  one  means  an  interference  with  the  work  of 
the  rest.  Something  central  has  snapped,  and 
all  are  thrown  out  of  work.  The  lungs  refuse  to 
correspond  with  the  air,  the  heart  with  the  blood. 
There  is  now  no  correspondence  whatever  with 
environment — the  thing,  for  it  is  now  a  thing,  is 
Dead. 

This  then  is  Death;  "part  of  the  framework 
breaks  down,"  "something  has  snapped" — these 
phrases  by  which  we  describe  the  phases  of  death 
yield  their  full  meaning.  They  are  different 
Avays  of  saying  that  "correspondence"  has  ceased. 
And  the  scientific  meaning  of  Death  now  becomes 
clearly  intelligible.  Dying  is  that  breakdown  in 
an  organism  which  thro^vs  \i  o\it  of  correspondence 
with  some  necessary  part  of  the  environment. 
Death  is  the  result  produced,  the  want  of  corre- 
spondence. We  do  not  say  that  this  is  all  that  is 
involved.  But  this  is  the  root  idea  of  Death — • 
Failure  to  adjust  internal  relations  to  external 
relations,  failure  to  repair  the  nroken  inward 
connection  sufficiently  to  enable  it  to  correspond 
again  with  the  old  surroundings.  These  prelim- 
inary statements  may  be  fitly  closed  with  the 
words  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer:  "Death  by  natural 
decay   occurs  because    in  old   age  the   relations 

*  Foster's  "Phj'siology,"  p.  643. 


DEATH.  ±li 

between  assimilation,  oxidation,  and  genesis  of 
force  going  on  in  tlie  organism  gradually  fall  out 
of  correspondence  with  the  i-elations  hetween 
oxygen  and  food  and  absorption  of  heat  by  the 
environment.  Deatli  from  disease  arises  either 
when  the  organism  is  congenitally  defective  in  its 
power  to  balance  the  ordinary  external  actions  by 
the  ordinary  internal  actions,  or  when  there  has 
taken  place  some  unusual  external  action  to  which 
there  was  no  answering  internal  action.  Death 
by  accident  implies  some  neighboring  mechanical 
changes  of  which  the  causes  are  either  unnoticed 
from  inattention,  or  are  so  intricate  that  their 
results  cannot  be  foreseen,  and  consequently, 
certain  relations  in  the  organism  are  not  adjusted 
to  the  relations  in  the  environment."* 

With  the  help  of  these  plain  biological  terms 
we  may  now  proceed  to  examine  the  parallel 
phenomenon  of  Death  in  the  spiritual  world. 
The  factors  with  Avhich  we  have  to  deal  are  two 
in  number  as  before — Organism  and  Environment. 
The  relation  between  them  may  once  more  be 
denominated  by  "correspondence."  And  the 
truth  to  be  emphasized  resolves  itself  into  this, 
that  Spiritual  Death  is  a  want  of  correspondence 
between  the  organism  and  the  spiritual  environ- 
ment. 

What  is  the  spiritual  environment?  This  term 
obviously  demands  some  further  definition.  For 
Death  is  a  relative  term.  And  before  we  can 
define  Death  in  the  spiritual  world  we  must  first 
apprehend  the  particular  relation  with  reference 
to  which  the  expression  is  to  be  employed.  We 
shall  best  reach  the  nature  of  this  relation  by 
considering  for  a  moment  the  subject  of  environ- 
ment generally.  By  the  natural  environment 
we  mean  the  entire  surroundings  of  the  natural 
man,  the  entire  external  world  in  which  he  lives 
and  moves  and  has  his  being.  It  is  not  involved 
in  the  idea  that  either  with  all  or  part  of  the 
environment  he  is  in  immediate  correspondence. 

*  Op.  cit.,  pp.  88,  89. 


118  DEATH. 

Whether  he  correspond  with  it  or  not,  it  is  there. 
There  is  in  fact  a  conscious  environment  and  an 
environment  of  wliich  he  is  not  conscious;  and  it 
must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  conscious  envi- 
ronment is  not  all  the  environment  that  is.  All 
that  surrounds  him,  all  that  environs  him,  con- 
scious or  unconscious,  is  environment.  The  moon 
and  stars  are  part  of  it,  though  in  the  daytime  he 
may  not  see  them.  The  polar  regions  are  parts 
of  it,  though  he  is  seldom  aware  of  their  influence. 
In  its  widest  sense  environment  simply  means 
all  else  that  is. 

Now  it  will  next  be  manifest  that  different 
organisms  correspond  with  this  environment  in 
varying  degrees  of  completeness  or  incomplete- 
ness. At  the  bottom  of  the  biological  scale  we 
find  organisms  which  have  only  the  most  limited 
correspondence  with  their  surroundings.  A  tree, 
for  example,  corresponds  with  the  soil  about  its 
stem,  with  the  sunlight,  and  with  the  air  in 
contact  with  its  leaves.  But  it  is  shut  off  by  its 
comparatively  low  development  from  a  whole 
world  to  which  higher  forms  of  life  have  additional 
access.  The  want  of  locomotion  alone  circum- 
scribes most  seriously  its  area  of  correspondence, 
so  that  to  a  large  pai't  of  surrounding  nature  it 
may  truly  be  said  to  be  dead.  So  far  as  conscious- 
ness is  concerned,  we  should  be  justified  indeed 
in  saying  that  it  was  not  alive  at  all.  The  mur- 
mur of  the  stream  which  bathes  its  roots  affects 
it  not.  The  marvelous  insect-life  beneath  its 
shadow  excites  in  it  no  wonder.  The  tender 
maternity  of  the  bird  which  has  its  nest  among 
its  leaves  stirs  no  responsive  sympathy.  It  cannot 
correspond  with  those  things.  To  stream  and 
insect  and  bird  it  is  insensible,  torpid,  dead.  For 
this  is  Death,  this  irresponsiveness. 

The  bird,  again,  which  is  higher  in  the  scale  of 
life,  corresponds  with  a  wider  environment.  The 
stream  is  real  to  it,  and  the  insect.  .It  knows 
what  lies  behind  the  hill;  it  listens  to  the  love- 
song  of  its  mate.  And  to  much  besides  beyond 
the  simple  world  of  the  tree  this  higher  organism 


DEATH.  119 

is  alive.  The  bird  we  should  say  is  more  living 
than  the  tree;  it  has  a  correspondence  with  a 
larger  area  of  environment.  But  this  bird-life  is 
not  yet  the  highest  life.  Even  within  the  imme- 
diate bird-environment  there  is  much  to  which 
the  bird  must  still  be  held  to  be  dead.  Introduce 
a  higher  organism,  jilace  man  himself  within  this 
same  environment,  and  see  how  much  more  living 
he  is.  A  hundred  things  which  the  bird  never 
saw  in  insect,  stream,  and  tree  appeal  to  him. 
Each  single  sense  has  something  to  correspond 
with.  Each  faculty  finds  an  ai3i3ropriate  exercise. 
Man  is  a  mass  of  correspondences,  and  because  of 
these,  because  he  is  alive  to  countless  objects  and 
influences  to  which  lower  organisms  are  dead,  he 
is  the  most  living  of  all  creatures. 

The  relativity  of  Death  will  now  have  become 
fiufticiently  obvious.  Man  being  left  out  of 
account,  all  organisms  are  seen  as  it  were  to  be 
partly  living  and  partly  dead.  The  tree,  in  cor- 
respondence with  a  narrow  area  of  environment, 
is  to  that  extent  alive;  to  all  beyond,  to  the  all 
but  infinite  area  beyond,  it  is  dead.  A  still 
wider  portion  of  this  vast  area  is  the  possession  of 
the  insect  and  the  bird.  Their's  also,  neverthe- 
less, is  but  a  little  world,  and  to  an  immense 
further  area  insect  and  bird  are  dead.  All  organ- 
isms likewise  are  living  and  dead  —  living  to 
all  within  the  circumference  of  their  correspond- 
ences, dead  to  all  beyond.  As  we  rise  in  the 
scale  of  life,  however,  it  will  be  observed  that  the 
sway  of  Death  is  gradually  weakened.  More  and 
more  of  the  environment  becomes  accessible  as  we 
ascend,  and  the  domain  of  life  in  this  way  slowly 
extends  in  ever-widening  circles.  But  until  man 
appears  there  is  no  organism  to  correspond  with 
the  whole  environment.  Till  then  the  outermost 
circles  have  no  correspondents.  To  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  innermost  sj)heres  they  are  as  if  they 
were  not. 

Now  follows  a  momentous  question.  Is  man 
in  correspondence  with  the  whole  environment? 
When  we  reach  the  highest  living  oragnism,  is 


I 20  DEATH. 

the  final  blow  dealt  to  the  kingdom  of  Death? 
Has  the  last  acre  of  the  infinite  area  been  taken 
in  by  his  finite  faculties?  Is  his  conscious  environ- 
ment the  whole  environment?  Or  is  there, 
among  these  outermost  circles,  one  which  with 
his  multitudinous  correspondences  he  fails  to 
reach?  If  so,  this  is  Death.  The  question  of 
Life  or  Death  to  him  is  the  question  of  the 
amount  of  remaining  environment  he  is  able  to 
compass.  If  there  be  one  circle  or  one  segment 
of  a  circle  which  he  yet  fails  to  reach,  to  corre- 
spond with,  to  know,  to  be  influenced  by,  he  is, 
with  regard  to  that  circle  or  segment,  dead. 

What  then,  practically,  is  the  state  of  the  case? 
Is  man  in  correspondence  with  the  whole  environ- 
ment or  is  he  not  ?  There  is  but  one  answer.  He 
is  not.  Of  men  generally  it  cannot  be  said  that 
they  are  in  living  contact  with  that  part  of  the 
environment  which  is  called  the  spiritual  world. 
In  introducing  this  new  term  spiritual  world,  ob- 
serve, we  are  not  interpolating  a  new  factor.  This 
is  an  essential  part  of  the  old  idea.  We  have  been 
following  out  an  ever-widening  environment  from 
point  to  point,  and  now  Ave  reach  the  outermost 
zones.  The  spiritual  world  is  simply  the  outer- 
most segment,  circle,  or  circles  of  the  natural 
world.  For  purposes  of  convenience  we  separate 
the  two  just  as  we  separate  the  animal  world  from 
the  plant.  But  the  animal  world  and  the  plant 
world  are  the  same  world.  They  are  different 
parts  of  one  environment.  And  the  natural  and 
spiritual  are  likewise  one.  The  inner  circles  are 
called  the  natural,  the  outer  the  spiritual.  And 
we  call  them  spiritual  simply  because  they  are  be- 
yond us  or  beyond  a  part  of  us.  What  we  have 
correspondence  with,  that  we  call  natural;  what 
we  have  little  or  no  cori^spondence  witli,  that  we 
call  spiritual.  But  when  the  appropriate  corre- 
sponding organism  appears,  the  organism,  that  is, 
which  can  freely  communicate  with  these  outer 
circles,  the  distinction  necessarily  disappears. 
The  spiritual  to  it  becomes  the  outer  circle  of  the 
natural. 


DEATH.  121 

Now  of  the  great  mass  of  living  organisms,  of 
tlie  great  mass  of  men,  is  it  not  to  be  affirmed  that 
they  are  out  of  correspondence  with  this  outer 
circle?  Suppose,  to  make  the  final  issue  more  real, 
we  give  this  outermost  circle  of  environment  a 
name.  Suppose  we  call  it  God.  Suppose  also  we 
substitute  a  word  for  "  correspondence  "  to  express 
more  intimately  the  personal  rolation.  Let  us  call 
it  Communion.  We  can  now  determine  accur- 
ately the  spiritual  relation  of  different  sections  of 
mankind.  Those  who  are  in  communion  with 
God  live,  those  who  are  not  are  dead. 

The  extent  or  depth  of  this  communion,  the 
varying  degrees  of  correspondence  in  different  indi- 
viduals, and  the  leys  or  more  abundant  life  which 
these  result  in,  need  not  concern  us  for  the  present. 
The  task  we  have  set  ourselves  is  to  investigate  the 
essential  nature  of  Spiritual  Death.  And  we 
have  found  it  to  consist  in  a  want  of  communion 
with  God.  The  unspiritual  man  is  he  who  lives  in 
the  circumscribed  environment  of  this  present 
world.  "  She  that  liveth  in  pleasure  ic  Dead  while 
she  liveth."  "  To  be  carnally  minded  is  Death." 
To  be  carnally  minded,  translated  into  the  lan- 
guage of  science,  is  to  be  limited  in  one's  corre- 
spondences to  the  environment  of  the  natural  man. 
It  is  no  necessary  part  of  the  conception  that  the 
mind  should  be  either  purposely  irreligious,  or 
directly  vicious.  The  mind  of  the  flesh,  *po>'wa  t^5 
<TapKb5,  by  its  very  nature,  limited  capacity,  and 
time-ward  tendency,  is  eavaros,  Death.  This  earthly 
mind  may  be  of  noble  caliber,  enriched  by  cul- 
ture, high  toned,  virtuous  and  pure.  But  if  it 
know  not  God  ?  What  though  its  correspondences 
reach  to  the  stars  of  heaven  or  grasp  the  magni- 
tudes of  Time  and  Space?  The  stars  of  heaven 
are  not  heaven.  Space  is  not  God.  This  mind 
certainly,  has  life,  life  up  to  its  level.  There  is 
no  trace  of  Death.  Possibly,  too,  it  carries  its 
deprivation  lightly,  and,  up  to  its  level,  lies  con- 
tent. We  do  not  picture  the  possessor  of  this 
carnal  mind  as  in  any  sense  a  monster.  We  have 
said  he  may  be  high-toned,  virtuous,   and  pure. 


122  DEATH. 

The  plant  is  not  a  monster  because  it  is  dead  to 
the  voice  of  the  bird  ;  nor  is  he  a  monster  who  is 
dead  to  the  voice  of  God.  The  contention  at 
present  simply  is  that  he  is  Dead. 

We  do  not  need  to  go  to  Eevelation  for  the  proof 
of  this.  That  has  been  rendered  unnecessary  by 
the  testimony  of  the  Dead  themselves.  Thousands 
have  uttered  themselves  upon  their  relation  to  the 
Spiritual  World,  and  from  their  own  lips  we  have 
the  proclamation  of  their  Death.  The  language 
of  theology  in  describing  the  state  of  the  natural 
man  is  often  regarded  as  severe.  The  Pauline 
anthropology  has  been  challenged  as  an  insult  to 
human  nature.  Culture  has  opposed  the  doctrine 
that  "  The  natural  man  receiveth  not  the  things 
of  the  Spirit  of  God,  for  they  are  foolishness  unto 
him:  neither  can  he  know  them,  because  they  are 
spiritually  discerned."  And  even  some  modern 
theologies  have  refused  to  accept  the  most  plain  of 
the  aphorisms  of  Jesus,  that  "Except  a  man  be 
born  again  he  cannot  see  the  Kingdom  of  God." 
But  this  stern  doctrine  of  the  spiritual  deadness 
of  humanity  is  no  mere  dogma  of  a  past  theology. 
The  history  of  thought  during  the  present  century 
proves  that  the  world  has  come  round  spontane- 
ously to  the  position  of  the  first.  One  of  the  ablest 
philosophical  schools  of  the  day  erects  a  Avliole 
antichristian  sytsem  on  this  very  doctrine.  Seek- 
ing by  means  of  it  to  sap  the  foiindation  of  spirit- 
ual religion,  it  stands  unconsciously  as  the  most 
significant  witness  for  its  truth.  What  is  the  creed 
of  the  Agnostic,  but  the  confession  of  the  spiritual 
numbness  of  humanity?  The  negative  doctrine 
which  it  reiterates  with  such  sad  persistency,  what 
is  it  but  the  echo  of  the  oldest  of  scientific  and 
religious  truths?  And  what  are  all  these  gloomy 
and  rebellious  infidelities,  these  touching,  and  too 
sincere  confessions  of  universal  nescience,  but  a 
protest  against  this  ancient  law  of  Death? 

The  Christian  apologist  never  further  misses  the 
mark  than  when  he  refuses  the  testimony  of  the 
Agnostic  to  himself.  AVhen  the  Agnostic  tells  me 
he  is  blind  and  deaf,  dumb,  torpid  and  dead  to 


DEATH.  123 

the  spiritual  world,  I  must  believe  him.  Jesus 
tells  me  that.  Paul  tells  me  that.  Science  tells 
me  that.  He  knows  nothing  of  this  outermost 
circle;  and  we  are  compelled  to  trust  his  sincerity 
as  readily  when  he  deplores  it  as  if,  being  a  man 
without  an  ear,  he  professed  to  know  nothing  of  a 
musical  world,  or  being  withont  taste,  of  a  world 
of  art.  The  nescience  of  the  Agnostic  philos- 
ophy is  the  in'ool  from  experience  that  to  be  car- 
nally minded  is  Death.  Let  the  theological  vali.e 
of  the  concession  be  duly  recognized.  It  brings 
no  solace  to  the  unspiritual  man  to  be  told  he  is 
mistaken.  To  say  he  is  self-deceived  is  neither  to 
compliment  him  nor  Christianity.  He  builds  in 
all  sincerity  who  raises  his  altar  to  the  Unhnoiun 
God.  He  does  not  know  God.  "With  all  his  mar- 
velous and  complex  correspondences,  he  is  still 
one  correspondence  short. 

It  is  a  point  worthy  of  special  note  that  the 
proclamation  of  this  truth  has  always  come  from 
science  ratlier  than  from  religion.  Its  general 
acceptance  by  thinkers  is  based  upon  the  nniversal 
failure  of  a  universal  experiment.  The  statement, 
therefore,  that  the  natural  man  discerneth  not  the 
things  of  the  spirit,  is  never  to  be  charged  against 
the  intolerance  of  theology.  There  is  no  point  at 
which  theology  has  been  more  modest  than  here. 
It  has  left  the  preaching  of  a  great  fundamental 
truth  almost  entirely  to  philosophy  and  science. 
And  so  very  moderate  has  been  its  tone,  so  slight 
has  been  the  emphasis  placed  upon  the  paralysis 
of  the  natural  with  regard  to  the  spiritual,  that  it 
may  seem  to  some  to  have  been  intolerant.  No 
harm  certainly  could  come  now,  no  offence  could 
be  given  to  science,  if  religion  asserted  more  clearly 
its  right  to  the  spiritual  world.  Science  has  paved 
the  way  for  the  reception  of  one  of  the  most  revo- 
lutionary doctrines  of  Christianity;  and  if  Chris- 
tianity refuses  to  take  advantage  of  the  opening  it 
will  manifest  a  culpable  want  of  confidence  in  it 
self.  There  never  was  a  time  when  its  fundamen- 
tal doctrines  could  more  boldly  Ije  proclaimed,  or 


I'M  DEATH. 

when  they  could  better  secure  the  respect  and 
arrest  the  interest  of  Science. 

To  all  this,  and  apisarently  with  force,  it  may, 
however,  be  objected  that  to  every  man  who  truly 
studies  Nature  there  is  a  God.  Call  Him  by  what- 
ever name — a  Creator,  a  Sui^reme  Being,  a  Great 
First  Cause,  a  Power  that  makes  for  Eighteous- 
ness — Science  has  a  God;  and  he  who  believes  in 
this,  in  spite  of  all  protest,  possesses  a  theology. 
"If  we  will  look  at  things,  and  not  merely  at 
words,  we  shall  soon  see  that  the  scientific  man 
has  a  theology  and  a  God,  a  most  impressive  theol- 
ogy, a  most  awful  and  glorious  God.  I  say  that 
man  believes  in  a  God  who  feels  himself  in  the 
presence  of  a  Power  which  is  not  himself,  and  is 
immeasurably  above  himself,  a  Power  in  the  con- 
templation of  which  he  is  absorbed,  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  which  he  finds  safety  and  happiness. 
And  such  now  is  Nature  to  the  scientific  man."* 
Such  now,  we  humbly  submit,  is  Nature  to  the 
very  few.  Their  own  confession  is  against  it. 
That  they  are  ''absorbed"  in  the  contemplation 
we  can  well  believe.  That  they  might  "  find  safety 
and  happiness"  in  the  knowledge  of  Him  is  also 
possible — if  they  had  it.  But  this  is  Just  what 
they  tell  us  they  have  not.  What  they  deny  is  not 
a  God.  It  is  the  correspondence.  The  very  con- 
fession of  the  Unknowable  is  itself  the  dull  recog- 
nition of  an  Environment  beyond  themselves,  and 
for  which  they  feel  tliey  kck  the  correspondence. 
It  is  this  want  that  maices  their  God  the  Unknown 
God.     And  it  is  this  that  makes  them  dead. 

We  have  not  said,  or  implied,  that  there  is  not 
a  God  of  Nature.  We  have  not  aflfirmed  that  there 
is  no  Natural  Religion.  We  are  assured  there  is. 
We  are  even  assured  that  without  a  Religion  of 
Nature  Religion  is  only  half  complete  ;  that  with- 
out a  God  of  Nature  the  God  of  Revelation  is  only 
half  intelligible  and  only  partially  known.  God  is 
not  confined  to  the  outermost  circle  of  environ- 
ment, He  lives  and  moves  and  has  His  being  in 

*  "Natural  Religion,"  p.  19. 


DEATH.  125 

the  whole.  Those  who  only  seek  Ilim  in  the 
further  zone  can  only  find  ii  jiart.  The  Christian 
who  knows  not  God  in  Nature,  who  does  not,  that 
is  to  say,  corresjjond  with  the  whole  environment, 
most  certainly  is  partially  dead.  The  author  of 
"  Ecce  Homo"  may  be  partially  right  when  he 
says:  "  1  think  a  bystander  woiild  say  that  though 
Christianity  had  in  it  something  far  higher  and 
deeper  and  more  ennobling,  yet  the  average  scien- 
tific man  worshi2)s  just  at  present  a  more  awful, 
and,  as  it  were,  a  greater  Deity  than  the  average 
Christian.  In  so  many  Christians  the  idea  of  God 
has  been  degraded  by  childish  and  little-minded 
teaching  ;  the  Eternal  and  the  Infinite  and  the 
A.ll-enibracing  has  been  represented  as  the  head  of 
the  clerical  interest,  as  a  sort  of  clergyman,  as  a 
sort  of  schoolmaster,  as  a  sort  of  philanthro2)ist. 
But  the  scientific  man  knows  Ilim  to  be  eternal; 
in  astronomy,  in  geology,  he  becomes  familiar  with 
rtie  countless  millenniums  of  His  lifetime.  The 
scientific  man  strains  his  mind  actually  to  realize 
God's  infinity.  As  far  off  as  the  fixed  stars  he 
traces  Ilim,  '  distance  inexpressible  by  numbers 
that  have  name.'  Meanwhile,  to  the  theologian, 
infinity  and  eternity  are  very  mucli  of  empty  words 
when  applied  to  the  object  of  his  worship.  He 
does  not  realize  them  in  actual  facts  and  definite 
computations."*  Let  us  accept  this  rebuke. 
The  principle  that  want  of  correspondence  is  Death 
applies  all  round.  He  who  knows  not  God  in  Na- 
ture only  partially  lives.  The  converse  of  this, 
however,  is  not  true;  and  that  is  the  point  we  aie 
insisting  on.  He  who  knows  God  only  in  Nature 
lives  not.  There  is  no  "  correspondence  "  with  an 
Unknown  God,  no  "  continuous  adjustment  "  tn 
a  fixed  First  Cause.  There  is  no  ''  assimilation  " 
of  Natural  Law;  no  growth  in  the  Innige  of  "  the 
All-embracing."  To  coi-respond  with  the  God  of 
Science  assuredly  is  not  to  live,  "  This  is  Life 
Eternal,  to  know  Thee,  tJie  true  God,  and  Jesus 
Christ  Whom  Thou  hast  sent." 

♦  "Natural  Religion,"  p.  20. 


136  DEATH. 

From  the  service  we  have  tried  to  make  natural 
i'Cience  render  to  our  religion,  we  might  be  ex- 
l>ected  possibly  to  take  up  the  position  that  the 
absolute  contribution  of  Science  to  Revelation  was 
very  great.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  very  small. 
The  absolute  contribution,  that  is,  is  very  small. 
The  contribution  on  the  whole  is  immense,  vaster 
than  we  have  yet  any  idea  of.  But  without  the 
aid  of  the  higher  Revelation  this  many-toned  and 
far-reaching  voice  had  been  forever  dumb.  The 
light  of  Nature,  say  the  most  for  it,  is  dim — how 
dim  we  ourselves,  witli  the  glare  of  other  Light 
upon  tlie  modern  world,  can  only  realize  when  we 
seek  among  the  pagan  records  of  the  past  for  the 
groupings  after  truth  of  those  whose  only  light 
was  this.  Powerfully  significant  and  touching  as 
these  efforts  were  in  their  success,  they  are  far 
more  significant  and  touching  in  their  failure. 
For  they  did  fail.  It  requires  no  lohilosophy  now 
to  speculate  on  the  adequacy  or  inadequacy  of  the 
Religion  of  Nature.  For  us  who  could  never 
weigh  it  rightly  in  the  scales  of  Truth  it  has  been 
tried  in  the  balance  of  experience  and  found  want- 
ing. Theism  is  the  easiest  of  all  religions  to  get, 
but  the  most  difficult  to  keep.  Individuals  have 
kept  it,  but  nations  never.  Socrates  and  Aristotle, 
Cicero  and  Epictetus  had  a  theistic  religion; 
Greece  and  Rome  had  none.  And  even  after  get- 
ting what  seems  like  a  firm  place  in  the  minds  of 
men,  its  unstable  equilibrium  sooner  or  later  be- 
trays itself.  On  the  one  hand  theism  has  always 
fallen  into  the  wildest  polytheism,  or  on  the  other 
into  the  blankest  atheism.  "It  is  an  indubitable 
historical  fact  that,  outside  of  the  sphere  of  special 
revelation,  man  has  never  obtained  such  a  knowl- 
edge of  Clod  as  a  responsible  and  religious  being 
plainly  requires.  The  wisdom  of  the  heathen 
world,  at  its  very  best,  was  utterly  inadequate  to 
the  accomplishment  of  such  a  task  as  creating  a 
due  abhorrence  of  sin,  controlling  the  passions, 
purifying  the  heart,  and  ennobling  the  conduct."  * 

*Prof.  Flint,  "Theism,"  p.  305. 


DEATH,  127 

What  is  the  inference  ?  Th«t  this  poor  rush- 
light by  itself  was  never  meant  to  lend  the  ray  by 
which  man  should  read  the  riddle  of  the  universe. 
The  mystery  is  too  impenetrable  and  remote  for 
its  uncertain  flicker  to  more  than  make  the 
darkness  deeper.  What  indeed  if  this  were  not 
a  light  at  all,  but  only  part  of  a  light— the 
carbon  point,  the  fragment  of  calcium,  the  re- 
reflector  in  the  great  Lantern  which  contains  the 
Light  of  the  World? 

This  is  one  inference.  But  the  most  important 
is  that  the  absence  of  the  true  Light  means  moral 
Death.  The  darkness  of  the  natural  world  to  the 
intellect  is  not  all.  What  history  testifies  to  is, 
first  the  partial,  and  then  the  total  eclipse  of 
virtue  that  always  follows  the  abandonment  of 
belief  in  a  personal  God.  It  is  not,  as  has  been 
pointed  out  a  hundred  times,  that  morality  in 
the  abstract  disappears,  but  the  motive  _  and 
sanction  are  gone.  There  is  nothing  to  raise  it 
from  the  dead.  Man's  attitude  to  it  is  left  to 
himself.  Grant  that  morals  have  their  own  base 
in  human  life;  grant  that  Nature  has  a  Tieligion 
whose  creed  is  Science;  there  is  yet  nothing  apart 
from  God  to  save  the  world  from  moral  Death. 
Morality  has  the  power  to  dictate  but  none  to 
move.  Nature  directs  but  cannot  control.  As 
was  wisely  expressed  in  one  of  many  pregnant 
utterances  diwhig  a,  recent  ^Sl/m2J0s^um,  "Though 
the  decay  of  religion  may  leave  the  institutes  of 
morality  intact,  it  drains  off  their  inward  power 
The  devout  faith. of  men  expresses  and  measures 
the  intensity  of  their  moral  nature,  and  it  cannot 
be  lost  without  a  remission  of  enthusiasm,  and 
under  this  low  pressure,  the  successful  reentrance 
of  importunate  desires  and  clamorous  passions 
which  had  been  driven  back.  To  believe  in  an 
ever-living  and  perfect  Mind,  supreme  over  the 
universe,  is  to  invest  moral  distinctions  with 
immensity  and  eternity,  and  lift  them  from  the 
provincial  stage  of  human  society  to  the  imperish- 
able theater  of  all  being.  When  planted  thus  in 
the  very  substance    of  things,  they  justify  and 


138  DEATH. 

support  the  ideal  estimates  of  the  conscience; 
they  deepen  every  guilty  shame;  they  guarantee 
every  righteous  hope;  and  they  help  the  will  with 
a  Divine  casting-vote  in  every  balance  of  tempta- 
tion."* That  moi'ality  has  a  basis  in  human 
society,  that  Nature  has  a  Religion,  surely  makes 
the  Death  of  the  soul  when  left  to  itself  all  the 
more  appalling.  It  means  that,  between  them. 
Nature  and  morality  provide  all  for  virtue — 
except  the  Life  to  live  it. 

It  is  at  this  point  accordingly  that  our  subject 
comes  into  intimate  contact  with  Religion.  The 
proposition  that  "to  be  carnally  minded  is  Death"' 
even  the  moralist  will  assent  to.  But  when  it  is 
further  announced  that  "the  carnal  mind  is 
enmity  against  GocV  we  find  ourselves  in  a 
different  region.  And  when  we  find  it  also  stated 
that  "the  wages  of  sin  is  Death,"  we  are  in  the 
heart  of  the  profoundest  questions  of  theology. 
What  before  was  merely  "enmity  against  society" 
becomes  "enmity  against  God;"  and  wha^  was 
"vice"  is  "sin."  The  conception  of  a  God  gives 
an  altogether  ucav  color  to  worldliness  and  vice. 
Worldliness  it  changes  into  heathenism,  vice  into 
blasphemy.  The  carnal  mind,  the  mind  which 
is  turned  away  from  God,  which  will  not  corre- 
spond with  God— this  is  not  moral  only  but  spirit- 
ual Death.  And  8in,  that  which  separates  from 
God,  which  disobeys  God,  which  can  not  in  that 
state  correspond  with  God — this  is  hell. 

To  the  estrangement  of  the  soul  from  God  the 
best  of  theology  traces  the  ultimate  cause  of  sin. 
Sin  is  simply  apostasy  from  God,  unbelief  in  God, 
"Sin  is  manifest  in  its  true  character  when  the 
demand  of  holiness  in  the  conscience,  pj-esenting 
itself  to  the  man  as  one  of  loving  submission  to 
God,  is  put  from  him  with  aversion.  Here  sin 
appears  as  it  really  is,  a  turning  away  from  God; 
and  while  the  man's  guilt  is  enhanced,  there 
ensues  a  benumbing  of  the  heart  resulting  from 

*  Martineau.  Vide  the  whole  Symposium  on  "The  Influences  upon 
Morality  of  a  Decline  in  ReligiousBelief.'"— iV^i/teiee/i^A  Century,  vol. 
i.  pp.  331,  531. 


DEATH.  129 

the  crushing  of  those  higher  impulses.  This  is 
what  is  nieant  by  the  rei)vohate  state  of  those  who 
reject  Christ  and  Avill  not  believe  the  Gospel,  so 
often  spoken  of  in  the  New  Testament;  this 
unbelief  is  iust  the  closing  of  the  heart  against 
the  highest  love."*  The  other  view  of  sin, 
probably  the  more  popular  at  present,  that  sin 
consists  in  selfishness,  is  merely  this  from  another 
aspect.  Obviously  if  the  mind  turns  away  from 
one  part  of  the  environment  it  will  only  do  so 
under  some  temptation  to  correspond  with  another. 
This  temptation,  at  bottom,  can  only  come  from 
one-  source — the  love  of  self.  The  irreligious 
man's  correspondences  are  concentrated  upon 
himself.  He  worships  himself.  Self-gratification 
rather  than  self-denial;  independence  rather  than 
submission — these  are  the  rules  of  life.  And  this 
is  at  once  the  poorest  and  the  commonest  form  of 
idolatry. 

But  whichever  of  these  views  of  sin  we 
emphasize,  we  find  both  equally  connected  with 
Death.  If  sin  is  estrangement  from  God,  this 
very  estrangement  is  Death.  It  is  a  want  of 
correspondence.  If  sin  is  selfishness,  it  is  con- 
ducted at  the  expense  of  life.  Its  wages  are 
Death — 'lie  that  loveth  his  life,"  said  Christ, 
"shall  lose  it." 

Yet  the  paralysis  of  the  moral  nature  apart 
from  God  does  not  only  depend  for  its  evidence 
upon  theology  or  even  upon  history.  From  the 
analogies  of  Nature  one  would  expect  tiiis  result 
as  a  necessary  consequence.  The  development  of 
any  organism  in  any  direction  is  dependent  on  its 
environment.  A  living  cell  cut  off  from  air  will 
die.  A  seed-germ  apart  from  moisture  and  an 
appropriate  temperature  will  make  the  ^ound  its 
grave  for  centuries.  Human  nature,  likewise,  is 
subject  to  similar  conditions.  It  can  only  develop 
in  presence  of  its  environment.  No  matter  what 
its  possibilities  may  be,  no  matter  what  seeds  of 
thought  or  virtue,  what  germs  of  genius  or  of  art, 

♦Mailer:  "Chrietian  Doctrine  of  Sin."'    2d  Ed.  vol  i.  p  131. 


130  DEATH. 

lie  latent  in  its  breast,  until  tlie  appropriate' 
environment  present  itself  the  correspondence  is 
denied,  the  development  discouraged,  the  most 
splendid  possibilities  of  life  remain  unrealized, 
and  thought  and  virtue,  genius  and  art,  are  dead. 
The  true  environment  of  the  moral  life  is  God. 
Here  conscience  wakes.  Here  kindles  love. 
Duty  here  becomes  heroic;  and  that  righteousness 
begins  to  live  which  alone  is  to  live  forever.  But 
if  this  Atmosphere  is  not,  the  dwarfed  soul  must 
perish  for  mere  want  of  its  native  air.  And  its 
Death  is  a  strictly  natural  Death.  It  is  not  an 
exceptional  judgment  upon  Atheism.  In  the 
same  circumstances,  in  the  same  averted  relation 
to  their  environment,  the  poet,  the  musician,  the 
artist,  would  alike  perish  to  poetry,  to  music,  and 
to  art.  Every  environment  is  a  cause.  Its  effect 
upon  me  is  exactly  proportionate  to  my  correspond- 
ence with  it.  If  I  correspond  with  part  of  it, 
part  of  myself  is  influenced.  If  I  correspond  with 
more,  more  of  myself  is  influenced;  if  with  all, 
all  is  influenced.  If  I  correspond  with  the  world, 
I  become  worldly;  if  with  God,  [  become  Divine. 
As  without  correspondence  of  the  scientific  man 
with  the  natural  environment  there  could  be  no 
Science  and  no  action  founded  on  the  knowledge 
of  Nature,  so  without  communion  with  the  spirit- 
ual Environment  there  can  be  no  Religion.  To 
refuse  to  cultivate  the  religious  relation  is  to  deny 
to  the  soul  its  highest  right — the  right  to  a  further 
evolution.*  We  have  already  admitted  that  he 
who  knows  not  God  may  not  be  a  monster;  we 
cannot  say  he  will  not  be  a  dwarf.  This  precisely, 
and  on  perfectly  natural  principles,  is  what  he 

*  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  show,  were  this  the  immediate  subject, 
that  it  is  not  only  a  right  but  a  duty  to  exercise  the  spiritual  faculties, 
a  duty  demanded  not  by  religion  merely,  but  by  science.  Upon 
biological  principles  man  owes  his  full  development  to  hiniseli,  to 
nature,  and  to  his  fellow-men.  Thus  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  affirms, 
"The  performance  of  every  function  is,  in  a  sense,  a  moral  obliga- 
tion. It  is  usually  thought  that  morality  requires  us  only  to  restrain 
such  vital  activities  as,  in  our  present  state,  are  often  pushed  to 
excess,  or  such  as  conflict  with  average  welfare,  special  or  general; 
but  it  also  requires  us  to  carry  on  these  vital  activities  up  to  their 
normal  liuiits.  All  the  animal  functions,  in  common  with  all  the 
higher  functions,  have,  as  thus  understood,  their  imperativeness."^ 
"The  Data  of  Ethics,"  2d  Ed.,  p.  76. 


DEATH.  131 

must  be.  You  can  dwarf  a  soul  just  as  you  can 
dwarf  ii  plant,  by  depriving  it  of  a  full  environ- 
ment. Such  a  soul  for  a  time  may  have  "a  name 
to  live."  Its  character  may  betray  no  sign  of 
atrophy.  But  its  very  virtue  somehow  has  the 
pallor  of  a  flower  that  is  grown  in  darkness,  or  as 
the  herb  which  has  never  seen  the  sun,  no 
fragrance  breathes  from  its  spirit.  To  morality, 
possibly,  this  organism  offers  the  example  of  an 
irreproachable  life;  but  to  science  it  is  an  instancfe 
of  arrested  development;  and  to  religion  it  pre- 
sents the  spectacle  of  a  corpse — a  living  Death. 
With  Euskin,  "I  do  not  wonder  at  what  mea 
suffer,  but  I  wonder  often  at  what  they  lose." 


MORTIFICATION.  133 


MORTIFICATION. 


"If,  by  tj'ing  its  main  artery,  we  stop  most  of  the  blood  going  to  a 
limb,  then,  for  as  long  as  the  limb  performs  its  functions,  those  parts 
which  are  called  into  play  must  be  wastsd  faster  than  they  are 
repaired:  whence  eventual  disablement.  The  relation  between  due 
receipt  of  nutritive  matters  through  its  arteries,  and  due  discharge  of 
its  duties  by  the  limb,  is  a  part  of  the  physical  order.  If  instead  of 
catting  off  the  supply  to  a  particular  limb,  we  bleed  the  patient 
largely,  so  drafting  away  the  materials  needed  for  repairing  not  one 
Mmb  bnt  all  limbs,  and  not  limbs  only  but  viscera,  there  results  both 
a  muscular  debility  and  an  enfeeblement  of  the  vital  functions. 
Here,  again,  cause  and  effect  are  necessarily  related.  .  .  Pass  now 
to  those  actions  more  commonly  thought  of  as  the  occasions  for  rules 
of  conduct." — Herbert  Spencer. 

"Mortify  therefore  your  members  which  are  upon  earth." — Paul. 

"  O  Star-eyed  Science  !  hast  thou  wandered  there 

To  waft  us  home  the  message  of  despair?" — Campbell. 

The  definition  of  Death  which  science  has 
given  us  is  this:  A  falling  out  of  corre.^j)ondence 
with  environment.  When,  for  example,  a  man 
loses  the  sight  of  his  eyes,  his  correspondence 
with  the  environing  world  is  curtailed.  His  life 
is  limited  in  an  important  direction;  he  is  less 
living  than  he  was  before.  If,  in  addition,  he 
lose  the  senses  of  touch  and  hearing,  his  corre- 
spondences are  still  further  limited;  he  is  therefore 
still  further  dead.  And  when  all  j^ossible  corre- 
spondences have  ceased,  when  the  nerves  decline 
to  resj^ond  to  any  stimulus,  when  the  lungs  close 
their  gates  against  the  air,  when  the  heart  refuses 
to  correspond  with  the  blood  by  so  much  as 
another  beat,  the  insensate  corpse  is  wholly  and 
forever  dead.  The  soul,  in  like  manner,  which 
has  no  correspondence  with  the  spiritual  environ- 
ment is  spiritually  dead.  It  may  be  that  it  never 
possessed  the  spiritual  eye  or  the  spiritual  ear,  or 
a  heart  which  throbbed  in  response  to  the  love  of 


134  MORTIFICATION. 

God.  If  so,  having  never  lived,  it  cannot  be 
said  to  have  died.  But  not  to  have  these  corre- 
spondeiices  is  to  be  in  the  state  of  Death.  To  the 
spiritual  world,  to  the  Divine  Environment,  it  is 
dead — as  a  stone  which  has  never  lived  is  dead  to 
the  environment  of  the  organic  world. 

Having  already  abundantly  illustrated  this  use 
of  the  symbol  Death,  we  may  proceed  to  deal 
with  another  class  of  expressions  where  the  same 
term  is  employed  in  an  exactly  opposite  connec- 
tion. It  is  a  proof  of  the  radical  nature  of 
religion  that  a  word  so  extreme  should  have  to  be 
used  again  and  again  in  Christian  teaching,  to 
define  in  different  directions  the  true  spiritual 
relations  of  mankind.  Hitherto  we  have  con- 
cerned ourselves  with  the  condition  of  the  natural 
man  with  regard  to  the  spiritual  world.  We  have 
now  to  speak  of  the  relations  of  the  spiritual  man 
with  regard  to  the  natural  world.  Carrying  with 
us  the  same  essential  principle — want  of  corre- 
spondence— underlying  the  meaning  of  Death,  we 
shall  find  that  the  relation  of  the  spiritual  man 
to  the  natural  world,  or  at  least  to  part  of  it,  is  to 
be  that  of  Death. 

When  the  natural  man  becomes  the  spiritual 
man,  the  great  change  is  described  by  Christ  as  a 
passing  from  Death  unto  Life.  Before  the  tran- 
sition occurred,  the  practical  difficulty  was  this, 
how  to  get  into  correspondence  with  the  new 
Environment?  But  no  sooner  is  this  correspond- 
ence established  than  the  problem  is  reversed. 
The  question  now  is,  how  to  get  out  of  correspond- 
ence with  the  old  environment?  The  moment 
the  new  life  is  begun  there  comes  a  genuine  anxiety 
to  break  with  the  old.  For  the  former  environ- 
ment has  now  become  embarrassing.  It  refuses 
its  dismissal  from  consciousness.  It  competes 
doggedly  with  the  new  Environment  for  a  share 
of  the  correspondences.  And  in  a  hundred  ways 
the  former  traditions,  the  memories  and  passions 
of  the  past,  the  fixed  associations  and  habits  of 
the  earlier  life,  now  complicate  the  new  relation. 
The  complex  and  bewildered  soul,  in  fact,  finds 


MORTIFICATION.  135 

itself  in  correspondence  w'th  two  environments, 
each  with  nrgent  but  yet  incompatible  claims. 
It  is  a  dual  soul  living  in  a  double  world,  a  world 
whose  inhabitants  are  deadly  enemies,  and 
engaged  in  perpetual  civil-war. 

The  position  of  things  is  perplexing.  It  is 
clear  that  no  man  can  attempt  to  live  both  lives. 
To  walk  both  in  the  flesh  and  in  the  spirit  is 
morally  impossible.  "No  man,"  as  Christ  so 
often  "^emphasized,  "can  serve  two  masters." 
And  yet,  as  matter  of  fact,  here  is  the  new-born 
being^in  communication  with  both  environments? 
With  sin  and  purity,  light  and  darkness,  time 
and  Eternity,  God  and  Devil,  the  confused  and 
undecided  soul  is  now  in  correspondence.  What 
is  to  be  done  in  such  an  energency?  How  can 
the  New  Life  deliver  itself  from  the  still-persistent 
past? 

A  ready  solution  of  the  difficulty  would  be  to 
die.  Were  one  to  die  organically,  to  die  and  "go 
to  heaven,"  all  correspondence  with  the  lower 
environment  would  be  arrested  at  a  stroke.  For 
Physical  Death  of  course  simply  means  the  final 
stoppage  of  ail  natural  correspondences  with  this 
sinful  world. 

But  this  alternative,  fortunately  or  unfortu- 
nately, is  not  open.  The  detention  here  of  body 
and  spirit  for  a  given  period  is  determined  for  us, 
and  we  are  morally  bound  to  accept  the  situation. 
We  must  look  then  for  a  further  alternative. 

Actual  Death  being  denied  us,  we  must  ask  our- 
selves if  there  is  nothing  else  resembling  it — no 
artificial  relation,  no  imitation  or  semblance  of 
Death  which  would  serve  our  purpose.  If  we  can- 
not yet  die  absolutely,  surely  the  next  best  thing 
will  be  to  find  a  temporary  substitute.  If  we  can- 
not die  altogether,  in  short,  the  most  we  can  do  is 
to  die  as  much  as  we  can.  And  we  now  know  this 
is  open  to  us,  and  how.  To  die  to  any  environ- 
ment is  to  withdraw  correspondence  with  it,  to 
cut  ourselves  off,  so  far  as  possible,  from  all  com- 
munication with  it.  So  that  the  solution  of  the 
problem  will  simply  be  this,  for  the  spiritual  life 


136  MORTIFICATION". 

to  reverse  continaously  the  processes  of  the  natural 
life.  The  spiritual  man  having  passed  from  Death 
unto  Life,  the  natural  man  must  next  proceed  to 
pass  from  Life  unto  Death.  Having  opened  the 
new  set  of  correspondences,  he  must  deliberately 
close  up  the  old.  Regeneration  in  short  must  be 
accompanied  by  Degeneration. 

Now  it  is  no  surprise  to  find  that  this  is  the  pro- 
cess everywhere  described  and  recommended  by 
the  founders  of  the  Christian  system.  Their  pro- 
posal to  the  natural  man,  or  rather  to  the  natural 
part  of  the  spiritual  man,  with  regard  to  a  whole 
series  of  inimical  relations,  is  precisely  this.  If 
he  cannot  really  die,  he  must  make  an  adequate 
approach  to  it  by  ''reckoning  himself  dead. "  See- 
ing that,  until  the  cycle  of  his  organic  life  is  com- 
plete he  cannot  die  physically,  he  must  meantime 
die  morally,  reckoning  himself  morally  dead  to  that 
environment  which,  by  competing  for  his  corre- 
spondences, has  now  become  an  obstacle  to  his 
spiritual  life. 

The  variety  of  ways  in  which  the  New  Testa- 
ment writers  insist  upon  this  somewhat  extraordi- 
nary method  is  sufficiently  remarkable.  And  al- 
though the  idea  involved  is  essentially  the  same 
throughout,  it  will  clearly  illustrate  the  nature  of 
the  act  if  we  examine  separately  three  different 
modes  of  expression  employed  in  the  later  Scrip- 
tures in  this  connection.  The  methods  by  which 
the  spiritual  man  is  to  withdraw  himself  from  the 
old  environment — or  from  that  part  of  it  which 
v/ill  directly  hinder  the  spiritual  life — are  three 
in  number: — 

First,  Suicide. 
Second,  Mortification. 
Third,  Limitation. 

It  will  be  found  in  practice  that  these  different 
methods  are  adapted,  respectively,  to  meet  three 
different  forms  of  temptation;  so  that  we  possess 
a  sufficient  warrant  for  giving  a  brief  separate 
treatment  to  each. 


MORTlFIUATIOi^.  13? 

First,  Suicide.  Stated  in  undisguised  plirase- 
olog}',  the  advice  of  Paul  to  the  Christian,  witli 
regard  to  a  part  of  his  nature,  is  to  commit  sui- 
cide. If  the  Christian  is  to  "live  unto  God/'  lie 
must  ^'  die  unto  sin."  If  he  does  not  kill  sin,  sin 
will  inevitably  kill  him.  Recognizing  this,  he 
must  set  himself  to  reduce  the  number  of  his  cor- 
respondences— retaining  and  developing  those 
which  lead  to  a  fuller  life,  unconditionally  with- 
drawing those  which  in  any  way  tend  in  an  oppos- 
ite directon.  This  stoppage  of  correspondences 
is  a  voluntary  act,  a  crucifixiou  of  the  flesh,  a 
suicide. 

Now  the  least  experience  of  life  will  make  it  evi- 
dent that  a  large  class  of  sins  can  only  be  met,  as 
it  were,  by  Suicide.  The  peculiar  feature  of  Death 
by  Suicide  is  that  it  is  not  only  self-inflicted  but 
sudden.  And  there  are  many  sins  which  miist 
either  be  dealt  with  suddenly  or  not  at  all.  Un^Isr 
this  category,  for  instance,  are  to  be  included  gen- 
erally all  sins  of  the  appetites  and  passions.  Other 
sins,  from  their  peculiar  nature,  can  only  be  treated 
by  methods  less  abrupt,  but  the  sudden  ojieration 
of  the  knife  is  the  only  successful  means  of  deal- 
ing with  fleshly  sins.  For  example,  the  corre- 
spondence of  the  drunkard  with  his  wine  is  a  thing 
which  can  be  broken  off  by  degrees  only  in  the 
rarest  cases.  To  attempt  it  gradually  may  in  an 
isolated  case  succeed,  but  even  then  the  slightly 
prolonged  gratification  is  no  compensation  for  the 
slow  torture  of  a  gradually  diminishing  indulgence. 
"If  thine  appetite  ofl'end  thee  cut  it  off,"  may 
seem  at  first  but  a  harsh  remedy;  but  when  we 
contemplate  on  the  one  hand  the  lingering  pain 
of  the  gradual  process,  on  the  other  its  constant 
peril,  we  are  compelled  to  admit  that  the  principle 
is  as  kind  as  it  is  wise.  The  expression  "  total  ab- 
stinence "  in  such  a  case  is  a  strictly  biological 
formula.  It  implies  the  sudden  destruction  of  a 
'lefinite  portion  of  environment  by  the  total  with 
-Irawal  of  all  the  connecting  links.  Obviously  of 
course  total  abstinence  ought  thus  to  be  allowed  a 
much  wider  application  than  to  cases  of  "  intern- 


138  MOKTiriCATION. 

perance."  It  s  the  only  decisive  method  of  deal- 
ing with  any  &xxi  of  the  flesh.  The  very  nature  of 
the  relations  makes  it  absolutely  imperalive  that 
every  victom  of  unlawful  appetite,  in  whatever  di- 
rection, shall  totally  abstain.  Hence  Christ's  ap- 
parently extreme  and  j^eremptory  language  defines 
the  only  2:>ossible,  as  well  as  the  only  charitable, 
expedient:  "If  thy  right  eye  offend  thee,  pluck 
it  out,  and  cast  it  from  thee.  And  if  thy  rig't 
hand  offend  thee,  cut  it  off,  and  cast  it  from  thee." 

The  humanity  of  what  is  called  "sudden  con- 
version "  has  never  been  insisted  on  as  it  deserves. 
In  discussing  "Biogenesis"*  it  has  been  already 
pointed  out  that  while  growth  is  a  slow  and  grad- 
ual process,  the  change  from  Death  to  Life  alike 
in  the  natural  and  spiritual  spheres  is  the  work  of 
a  moment.  Whatever  the  conscious  hour  of  the 
second  birth  may  be — in  the  case  of  an  adult  it  is 
probably  defined  by  the  first  real  victory  over  sin — 
it  is  certain  that  on  biological  principles  the  real 
turning-point  is  literally  a  moment.  But  on  moral 
and  humane  grounds  this  misunderstood,  per- 
verted, and  therefore  despised  doctrine  is  equally 
capable  of  defence.  Were  any  reformer,  with  an 
adequate  knowledge  of  human  life,  to  sit  down 
and  plan  a  scheme  for  the  salvation  of  sinful  men, 
he  would  probably  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
best  way  after  all,  perhaps  indeed  the  only  way,  to 
turn  a  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  ways  would  be 
to  do  it  suddenly. 

Suppose  a  drunkard  were  advised  to  take  off  one 
portion  from  his  usual  allowance  the  first  week, 
another  the  second,  and  so  on  I  Or  suppose  at  firs^, 
he  only  allowed  himself  to  become  intoxicated  in 
the  evenings,  then  every  second  evening,  then  only 
on  Saturday  nights,  aiid  finally  only  every  Christ- 
mas? How  would  a  thief  be  reformed  if  he  sloAvly 
reduced  the  number  of  his  burglaries,  or  a  wife- 
heater  by  gradually  diminishing  the  number  of  his 
blows?  The  argument  ends  with  an  ad  absurdnm. 
''Let  him  that  Biole  steal  no  more,"  is  the  only 


•  Page  I 


MORTIFICATION".  130 

feasible,  the  only  moral,  and  the  only  humane  way. 
This  may  not  apply  to  every  case,  but  when  any 
part  of  man's  sinful  life  can  be  dealt  with  by  im- 
mediate Suicide,  to  make  him  reach  the  end,  even 
were  it  possible,  by  a  lingering  death,  would  be  a 
monstrous  cruelty.  Aiul  yet  it  is  this  very  thing 
in  '"sudden  conversion,"  that  men  object  to — the 
sudden  change,  the  decisive  stand,  the  uncompro- 
mising rupture  with  the  past,  the  precipitate  flight 
from  sin  as  of  one  escaping  for  his  life.  Men 
surely  forget  that  this  is  an  escaping  for  one's  life. 
J^et  the  poor  prisoner  run — madly  and  blindly  if 
he  like,  for  the  terror  of  Death  is  upon  him.  God 
knows,  when  the  pause  comes,  how  the  chains  will 
gall  him  still. 

It  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  sinful  state,  that  as  a 
general  rule  men  are  linked  to  evil  mainly  by  a 
single  correspondence.  Few  men  break  the  whole 
law.  Our  natures,  fortunately,  are  not  large  enough 
to  make  us  guilty  of  all,  and  the  restraints  of  cir- 
cumstances are  usually  such  as  to  leave  a  loophole 
in  the  life  of  each  individual  for  only  a  single 
habitual  sin.  But  it  is  very  easy  to  see  how  this 
reduction  of  our  intercourse  with  evil  to  a  single 
correspondence  blinds  us  to  our  true  position. 
Our  correspondences,  as  a  whole,  are  not  with  evil, 
and  in  our  calculations  as  to  our  spiritual  condition 
we  emphasize  the  many  negatives  rather  than  the 
single  positive.  One  little  weakness, we  are  apt  to 
fancy;  all  men  must  be  allowed,  and  we  even  claim 
a  certain  indulgence  for  that  apparent  necessity  of 
nature  which  we  call  our  besetting  sin.  Yet  to 
break  with  the  lower  environment  at  all,  to  many, 
is  to  break  at  this  single  point.  It  is  the  only  im- 
portant point  at  which  they  touch  it,  circumstan- 
ces or  natural  disposition  making  habitual  contact 
at  other  places  impossible.  The  sinful  environ- 
ment, in  short,  to  them  means  a  small  but  well- 
defined  area.  Now  if  contact  at  this  point  be  not 
broken  off,  they  are  virtually  in  contact  still  with 
the  whole  environment.  There  may  be  only  one 
avenue  between  the  new  life  and  the  old,  it  may 
be  but  a  small  and  subterrcuicau  jjasmge,  but  tliis 


140  3I0IlTIFICATI0]Sr. 

is  sufficient  to  keep  the  old  life  in.  So  long  as 
that  remains  the  victim  is  not  "dead  unto  sin," 
and  therefore  he  cannot  "•  live  nnto  God."  Hence 
the  reasonableness  of  the  words,  "AVhatsoever  shall 
keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  at  one  point, 
he  is  guilty  of  all."  In  the  natural  world  it  only 
requires  a  single  vital  correspondence  of  the  body 
to  be  out  of  order  to  insure  Death.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  have  consumption,  diabetes,  and  an 
aneurism  to  bring  the  body  to  the  grave  if  it  have 
heart-disease.  He  who  is  fatally  diseased  in  one 
organ  necessarily  pays  the  penalty  with  his  life, 
though  all  the  others  be  in  perfect  health.  And 
'such,  likewise,  are  the  mysterious  unity  and  cor- 
relation of  functions  in  the  spiritual  organism 
that  tlie  disease  of  one  member  may  involve  the 
ruin  of  the  whole.  The  reason,  therefore,  with 
which  Christ  follows  up  the  announcement  of  His 
Doctrine  of  Mutilation,  or  local  Suicide,  finds  here 
at  once  its  justification  and  interpretation:  "If 
they  right  eye  ofl:"end  thee,  pluck  it  out,  and  cast 
it  from  thee:  for  it  is  profitable  for  thee  that  one 
of  thy  members  should  perish,  and  not  that  thy 
whole  body  should  be  cast  into  hell.  And  if  thy 
right  hand  offend  thee,  cut  it  off,  and  cast  it  from 
thee:  for  it  is  profitable  for  thee  that  one  of  thy 
members  should  perish,  and  not  that  thy  whole 
body  should  be  cast  into  hell." 

Secondly,  Mortification.  The  warrant  for  the 
use  of  this  expression  is  found  in  the  well-known 
phrases  of  Paul,  "  If  ye  througli  the  Spirit  do  mor- 
tify the  deeds  of  the  body  ye  shall  live,"  and 
"  Mortify  therefore  your  members  which  are  upon 
earth."  The  word  mortify  here  is,  literally,  to 
make  to  die.  It  is  used,  of  course,  in  no  specially 
technical  sense;  and  to  attempt  to  draw  a  detailed 
moral  from  the  pathology  of  mortification  would 
be  equally  fantastic  and  irrelevant.  But  without 
in  any  way  straining  the  meaning  it  is  obvious 
that  we  have  here  a  slight  addition  to  our  concej)- 
tion  of  dying  to  sin.  In  contrast  with  Suicide, 
Mortification  implies  a  gradual  rather  than  a  sud- 
den process.     The  contexts  in  wliicli  the  passages 


MORTIFICATION.  141 

occur  will  make  tins  meaning  so  clear,  and  are 
otherwise  so  instructive  in  the  general  connection, 
that  we  may  quote  them,  from  the  New  Version, 
at  length:  "  They  tliat  are  after  the  llesh  do  mind 
the  things  of  the  llesh;  but  they  that  are  after  the 
Spirit  the  things  of  the  S])irit.  For  the  mind  of 
the  flesh  is  death;  but  the  mind  of  the  Spirit  is 
life  and  peace:  because  the  mind  of  the  flesh  is 
enmity  against  God;  for  it  is  not  subject  to  the  law 
of  God,  neither  indeed  can  it  be:  and  they  that 
are  in  the  flesh  cannot  please  God.  But  ye  are  not 
in  the  flesh,  but  in  the  Spirit,  if  so  be  that  the 
Spii'it  of  God  dwell  in  you.  But  if  any  man  hath 
not  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  His.  And 
if  Christ  is  in  you,  the  body  is  dead  because  of 
sin;  but  the  Spirit  is  life  because  of  righteousness. 
But  if  the  Spirit  of  Him  that  raised  up  Jesus 
from  the  dead  dwelletli  in  you.  He  that  raised  up 
Christ  Jesus  from  the  dead  shall  quicken  also  your 
mortal  bodies  through  His  Spirit  that  dwelletli  in 
you.  So  then,  brethren,  we  are  debtors  not  to  the 
flesh,  to  live  after  the  flesh :  for  if  ye  live  after  the 
flesh  ye  must  die;  but  if  by  the  Spirit  ye  mortify 
the  doings  (marg.)  of  the  body,  ye  shall  live."* 

And  again,  ' '  If  then  ye  were  raised  together 
with  Christ,  seek  the  things  that  are  above,  where 
Christ  is  seated  on  the  right  hand  of  God.  Set 
your  mind  on  the  things  that  are  above,  not  on 
the  things  that  are  upon  the  earth.  For  ye  died, 
and  your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God.  When 
Christ,  who  is  our  life,  shall  be  manifested,  then 
shall  ye  also  with  Him  be  manifested  in  glory. 
Mortify  therefore  your  members  which  are  upon 
the  earth;  fornication,  uncleanness,  passion,  evil 
desire,  and  covetousness,  the  which  is  idolatry;  for 
which  things'  sake  cometli  the  wrath  of  God  upon 
the  sons  of  disobedience;  in  the  which  ye  alsG 
walked  aforetime,  when  ye  lived  in  these  things. 
But  now  put  ye  also  away  all  these;  anger,  wrath, 
malice,  railing,  shameful  speaking  out  of  your 
mouth:  lie  not  one  to  another;  seeing  that  ye  ha\'e 

*  Eom.  viii.  5-13. 


142  MORTIFICATION. 

put  off  the  old  man  with  his  doings,  and  have  put 
on  the  new  man,  which  is  being  renewed  unto 
knowledge  after  the  image  of  Him  that  created 
him."  * 

From  the  nature  of  the  case  as  here  stated  it  is 
evident  that  no  sudden  process  could  entirely  trans- 
fer a  man  from  the  old  into  the  new  relation.  To 
break  altogether,  and  at  every  point,  with  the  old 
environment,  is  a  simple  impossibility.  So  long 
as  the  regenerate  man  is  kept  in  this  world,  he 
must  find  the  old  environment  at  many  points  a 
severe  temptation.  Power  over  very  many  of  the 
commonest  temptations  is  only  to  be  won  by  de- 
grees, and  however  anxious  one  might  be  to  apply 
the  summary  method  to  every  case,  he  soon  finds 
it  impossible  in  practice.  The  difficulty  in  these 
cases  aarises  from  a  peculiar  feature  of  the  temp- 
tation. The  difference  between  a  sin  of  drunken- 
ness, and,  let  us  say,  a  sin  of  temper,  is  that  in  the 
former  case  the  victim  who  would  reform  has 
mainly  to  deal  with  the  environment,  but  in  the 
latter  with  the  correspondence.  The  drunkard's 
temptation  is  a  known  and  definite  quantity.  His 
safety  lies  in  avoiding  some  external  and  material 
suVjstance.  Of  course,  at  bottom,  he  is  really  deal- 
ing with  the  correspondence  every  time  he  resists; 
he  is  distinctl}  controlling  appetite.  Nevertheless 
it  is  less  the  appetite  that  absorbs  his  mind  than 
the  environment.  And  so  long  as  he  can  keep 
himself  clear  of  the  "  external  relation,"  to  use  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer's  phraseology,  he  has  much  less 
difficulty  with  the  "internal  relation."  The  ill- 
tempered  person,  on  the  other  hand,  can  make  very 
little  of  his  environment.  However  he  may  at- 
tempt to  circumscribe  it  in  certain  directions,  there 
will  always  remain  a  wide  and  ever-changing  area 
to  stimulate  his  irascibility.  His  environment,  in 
short,  is  an  inconstant  quantity,  and  his  most  elab- 
orate calculations  and  jDrecautions  must  often  and 
suddenly  fail  him. 

What  he  has  to  deal  with,  then,  mainly  is  the 

*  Col.  iii.  1-ia 


M.ORTIFICATION-.  143 

correspondence,  the  temper  itself.  And  that,  he 
well  knows,  involves  a  long  and  humiliating  disci- 
pline. The  case  now  is  not  at  all  a  surgical  but  a 
medical  one,  and  the  knife  is  here  of  no  more  use 
than  in  a  fever.  A  specific  irritant  has  poisoned 
his  veins.  And  the  acriil  humors  that  are  break- 
ing out  all  over  the  surface  of  his  life  are  only  to 
be  subdued  by  a  gradual  sweetening  of  the  inward 
spirit.  It  is  now  known  that  the  human  body  acts 
toward  certain  fever-germs  as  a  sort  of  soil.  The 
man  whose  blood  is  pure  has  nothing  to  fear.  So 
he  whose  spirit  is  purified  and  sweetened  becomes 
proof  against  these  germs  of  sin.  "Anger,  wrath, 
malice  and  railing  ' '  in  such  a  soil  can  find  no  root. 

The  difference  between  this  and  the  former 
method  of  dealing  with  sin  may  be  illustrated  by 
another  analogy.  The  two  processes  depend  upon 
two  difl'erent  natural  principles.  The  Mutilation 
of  a  member,  for  instance,  finds  its  analogue  in  the 
horticultural  operation  oi priming,  where  the  ob- 
ject is  to  divert  life  from  a  useless  into  a  useful 
channel.  A  part  of  a  plant  which  previously 
monopolized  a  large  share  of  the  vigor  of  the  total 
organism,  but  without  yielding  any  adequate  re- 
turn, is  suddenly  cut  off,  so  that  the  vital  processes 
may  proceed  more  actively  in  some  fruitful  parts. 
Christ's  use  of  this  figure  is  well-known:  "Every 
branch  in  Me  that  beareth  not  fruit  He  purgeth  it 
that  it  may  bring  forth  more  fruit."  The  strength 
of  the  plant,  that  is,  being  given  to  the  formation 
of  mere  wood,  a  number  of  useless  correspondences 
have  to  be  abruptly  closed  while  the  useful  connec- 
tions are  allowed  to  remain.  The  Mortification  of 
a  member,  again,  is  based  on  the  Law  of  Degen- 
eration. The  useless  member  here  is  not  cut  off, 
but  sim2:)ly  relieved  as  niuch  as  possible  of  all  ex- 
ercise. This  encourages  the  gradual  decay  of  the 
parts,  and  as  it  is  more  and  more  neglected  it 
ceases  to  be  a  channel  for  life  at  all.  So  an  organ- 
ism "  mortifies  "  its  members. 

Thirdly,  Limitation.  While  a  large  number  of 
correspontlences  between  man  and  his  environment 
can  be  stopped  in  these  ways,  there  are  many  more 


144  MORTIFICATION. 

which  neither  can  be  reduced  by  a  gradual  Morti- 
fication nor  cut  short  by  sudden  Death.  One 
reason  for  this  is  that  to  tamper  with  these  corre- 
spondences might  involve  injury  to  closely  related 
vital  parts.  Or,  again,  there  are  organs  which  are 
really  essential  to  the  normal  life  of  the  organism, 
and  which  therefore  the  organism  canuot  afford  to 
lose  even  though  at  times  they  act  j^rejudicially. 
Not  a  few  correspondences,  for  instance,  are  net 
wrong  in  themselves  but  onl}^  in  their  extremes. 
Up  to  a  certain  point  they  are  lawful  and  neces- 
sary; beyond  that  point  they  may  become  not 
only  unnecessary  but  sinful.  The  apj^ropriate 
treatment  in  these  and  similar  cases  consists  in  a 
process  of  Limitation.  The  performance  of  this 
operation,  it  must  be  confessed,  requires  a  most 
delicate  hand-.  It  is  an  art,  moreover,  which  no 
one  can  teach  another.  And  yet,  if  it  is  not 
learned  by  all  who  are  trying  to  lead  the  Christian 
life,  it  cannot  be  for  want  of  practice.  For,  as  we 
shall  see,  the  Christian  is  called  upon  to  exercise 
few  things  more  frequently. 

An  easy  illustration  of  a  correspondence  which 
is  only  wrong  when  carried  to  an  extreme,  is  the 
love  of  money.  The  love  of  money  up  to  a  certain 
point  is  a  necessity;  beyond  that  it  may  become 
one  of  the  worst  of  sins.  Christ  said :  "  Ye  cannot 
serve  God  and  Mammon."  The  two  services,  at  a 
definite  point,  become  incompatible,  and  hence 
correspondence  with  one  must  cease.  At  what 
point,  however,  it  must  cease  each  man  has  to  de- 
termine for  himself.  And  in  this  consists  at  once 
the  difficulty  and  the  dignity  of  Limitation. 

There  is  another  class  of  cases  where  the  adjust- 
ments are  still  more  difficult  to  determine.  In- 
numerable points  exist  in  our  surroundings  with 
which  it  is  perfectly  legitimate  to  enjoy,  and  even 
to  cultivate,  correspondence,  but  which  ^^rivilege, 
at  the  same  time,  it  were  better  on  the  whole  that 
we  did  not  use.  Circumstances  are  occasionally 
such — the  demands  of  others  u])on  us,  for  example, 
may  be  so  clamant — that  we  have  voluntarily  to 
redace  the  area  of  legitimate  pleasure.     Or,  iust<^ad 


MORTIFICATION".  145 

of  it  coming  from  others,  the  claim  may  come  from 
a  still  higher  direction,  ]\Irtn's"spiritual  life  con- 
sists in  the  number  and  fullness  of  his  corresiicnd- 
ences  with  God.  In  order  to  develop  these  he 
may  be  constrained  to  insulate  them,  to  inclose 
them  from  the  other  correspondences,  to  shut  him- 
self in  with  them,  fn  many  ways  the  limitation 
of  the  natural  life  is  the  necessary  condition  of  the 
full  enjoyment  of  the  spiritual  life. 

In  this  principle  lies  the  true  philosophy  of  self- 
denial.  No  man  is  called  to  a  lite  of  self-denial 
for  its  own  sake.  It  is  in  order  to  a  compensation 
^yhich,  though  sometimes  difhcult  to  see,  is  ah^ays 
real  and  always  proportionate.  No  truth,  perhaps, 
in  practical  religion  is  moi'c  lost  sight  of.  We 
cherish  somehow  a  lingering  rebellion  against  the 
doctrine  of  self-denial — as  if  our  nature,  or  our 
circumstances,  or  our  conscience,  dealt  with  us 
severely  in  loading  us  with  the  daily  cross.  But 
is  it  not  plain  after  all  that  the  life  of  self-denial 
is  the  more  abundant  life — more  abundant  just  in 
proportion  to  the  ampler  crucifixion  of  the  nar- 
rower life?  Is  it  not  a  clear  case  of  exchange — an 
exchange  however  where  the  advantage  is  entirely 
on  our  side?  We  give  up  a  correspondence  in  which 
there  is  a  little  life  to  enjoy  a  correspondence  in 
which  there  is  an,  abundant  life.  What  though 
we  sacrifice  a  hundred  such  correspondences?  We 
make  but  the  more  room  for  the  great  one  that  is 
left.  The  lesson  of  self-denial,  that  is  to  say  of 
Limitation,  is  concentration.  Do  not  spoil  your  life, 
it  says,  at  the  outset  with  unworthy  and  impover- 
ishing correspondences;  and  if  it  is  growing  truly 
rich  and  abundant,  be  very  jealous  of  ever  diluting 
its  high  eternal  quality  with  anything  of  earth. 
To  concentrate  upon  a  few  great  correspondences, 
to  oppose  to  the  death  the  perpetual  petty  larceny 
of  oar  life  by  trifles — these  are  the  conditions  for 
the  highest  and  happiest  life.  It  is  only  Limitation 
which  can  secure  the  Illimitable. 

Tiie  penalty  of  evading  self-denial  also  is  just 
that  we  get  the  lesser  instead  of  the  larger  good. 
The  punishment  of  sin  is  inseparably  bound   up 


146  MOETIFICATION. 

with  itself.  To  refuse  to  deny  one's  self  is  Just  to 
be  left  with  the  self  undenied.  When  the  balance 
of  life  is  struck,  the  self  will  be  found  still  there. 
The  discipline  of  life  was  meant  to  destroy  this 
self,  but  that  discipline  having  been  evaded — and 
we  all  to  some  extent  have  opjjort unities,  and  too 
often  exercise  them,  of  taking  the  narrow  path  by 
the  shortest  cuts — its  purpose  is  balked.  But  the 
soul  is  the  loser.  In  seeking  to  gain  its  life  it  has 
really  lost  it.  This  is  what  Christ  meant  when  He 
said:  "  He  that  loveth  his  life  shall  lose  it,  and  hb 
that  hateth  his  life  in  this  world  shall  keep  it  unto 
life  eternal." 

Why  does  Christ  say:  "  Hate  Life?  "  Does  He 
mean  that  life  is  a  sin.  No.  Life  is  not  a  sin. 
Still,  He  says  we  must  hate  it.  But  we  must  live. 
Why  should  we  hate  what  we  must  do?  For  this 
reason:  Life  is  not  a  sin,  but  the  love  of  life  may 
be  a  sin.  And  the  best  way  not  to  love  life  is  to 
hate  it.  Is  it  a  sin  then  to  love  life?  Not  a  sin 
exactly,  but  a  mistake.  It  is  a  sin  to  love  some 
life,  a  mistake  to  love  the  rest.  Because  that  love 
is  lost.  All  that  is  lavished  on  it  is  lost.  Christ 
does  not  say  it  is  wrong  to  love  life.  He  simply 
says  it  is  loss.  Each  man  has  only  a  certain 
amount  of  life,  of  time,  of  attention — a  definite 
measurable  quantity.  If  he  gives  any  of  it  to  this 
life  solely  it  is  wasted.  Therefore  Christ  says,  Hate 
life,  limit  life,  lest  you  steal  your  love  for  it  from 
something  that  deserves  it  more. 

Now  this  does  not  apply  to  all  life.  It  is  "  lif« 
in  this  world  "  that  is  to  be  hated.  For  life  m 
this  world  implies  conformity  to  this  workl.  It 
may  not  mean  pursuing  worldly  pleasures,  or  mix- 
ing with  worldly  sets;  but  a  subtler  thing  than 
that — a  silent  deference  to  worldly  opinion;  an 
almost  unconscious  lowering  of  religious  tone  to 
the  level  of  the  worldly-religious  world  around;  a 
subdued  resistance  to  the  soul's  delicate  prompt- 
ings to  greater  concsecration,  out  of  deference  ic- 
"breadth  "  or  fear  of  ridicule.  These,  and  such 
things,  are  what  Christ  tells  us  we  must  hate.  For 
these  things  are  of  the  very  essence  of  worldiiness. 


MOKTIFICATIOX.  147 

"If  any  man  love  the  world,"  even  in  this  sense, 
"  the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him." 

There  are  two  ways  of  hating  life,  a  true  and  a 
false.  Some  men  hate  life  because  it  hates  them. 
They  have  seen  through  it,  and  it  has  turned  round 
upon  them.  They  have  drunk  it,  and  come  to  the 
dregs;  therefore  they  hate  it.  This  is  one  of  the 
ways  in  which  the  man  who  loves  his  life  literally 
loses  it.  He  loves  it  till  he  loses  it,  then  he  hates 
it  because  it  has  fooled  him.  The  other  way  is  the 
roligious.  For  religious  reasons  a  man  deliber- 
ately braces  himself  to  the  systematic  hating  of  his 
life.  "  No  man  can  serve  two  masters,  for  either 
he  must  hate  the  one  and  love  the  other,  or  else 
he  must  hold  to  the  one  and  despise  the  other." 
Despising  the  other — this  is  hating  life,  limiting 
life.     It  is  not  misanthropy,  but  Christianity. 

This  principle,  as  has  been  said,  contains  the 
true  philosophy  of  self-denial.  It  also  holds  the 
secret  by  which  self-denial  may  be  most  easily 
borne.  A  common  conception  of  self-denial  is 
that  there  are  a  multitude  of  things  about  life 
which  are  to  be  put  down  with  a  high  hand  the 
moment  they  make  their  appearance.  They  are 
temptations  which  are  not  to  be  tolerated,  but 
must  be  instantly  crushed  out  of  being  with  pang 
and  effort. 

So  life  comes  to  be  a  constant  and  sore  cutting 
oft'  of  things  which  we  love  as  our  right  hand. 
Bnt  now  suppose  one  tried  boldly  to  hate  these 
things?  Suppose  we  deliberately  made  up  our 
minds  as  to  what  things  we  were  henceforth  to  al- 
low to  become  our  life?  Suppose  we  selected  a 
given  area  of  our  environment  and  determined 
once  for  all  that  our  correspondences  should  go  to 
that  alone,  fencing  in  this  area  all  round  with  a 
morally  impassable  wall?  True,  to  others,  we 
should  seem  to  live  a  poorer  life;  they  would  see 
that  our  environment  was  circumscril^ed,  and  call 
us  narrow  because  it  was  narrow.  But,  well- 
chosen,  this  limited  life  would  ]je  really  the  fullest 
life;  it  would  be  rich  in  the  highest  and  worthiest, 
and  poor  in  the  smallest  and  basest  correspond- 


148  310KTiriC'ATI0X. 

ences.  The  well-defined  spiritual  life  is  not  only 
the  highest  life,  but  it  is  also  the  most  easily  lived. 
The  whole  cross  is  more  easily  carried  than  the 
half.  It  is  the  man  who  tries  to  make  the  best  of 
both  worlds  who  makes  nothing  of  either.  And 
he  who  seeks  to  serve  two  masters  misses  the  bene- 
diction of  both.  But  he  who  has  taken  his  stand, 
who  has  drawn  a  boundary  line,  sharp  and  deep 
about  his  religious  life,  who  has  marked  off  all  be- 
yond as  forever  forbidden  ground  to  him,  finds 
the  yoke  easy  and  the  burden  light.  For  this  fur- 
bidden  environment  comes  to  be  as  if  it  were  not. 
His  faculties  falling  out  of  correspondence,  slowly 
lose  their  sensibilities.  And  the  balm  of  Death 
numbing  his  Icwer  nature  releases  him  for  the 
scarce  disturbed  communion  of  a  higher  life.  So 
even  here  to  di^  is  gain. 


ETERNAL  LIFE.  149 


ETERNAL  LIFE. 


"Supposing  that  man,  in  some  form,  is  permitted  to  remain  on  the 
earth  for  a  long  series  of  years,  we  merely  lengthen  out  the  period, 
but  we  cannot  escape  the  final  catastrophe.  The  earth  will  gradually 
lose  its  energy  of  relation,  as  well  as  that  of  revolution  round  the 
sun.  The  sun  himself  will  wax  dim  and  become  useless  as  a  source 
of  energy,  until  at  last  the  favorable  conditions  of  the  present  solar 
system  will  have  quite  disappeared. 

"But  what  happens  to  our  system  will  happen  likewise  to  the  whole 
visible  universe,  which  will,  if  finite,  become  a  lifeless  mass,  if  in- 
di'cd  it  be  not  doomed  to  utter  dissolution.  In  fine,  it  will  become 
old  and  effete,  no  less  truly  than  the  individual.  It  is  a  glorious 
garment,  this  visible  universe,  but  not  an  immortal  one.  We  must 
look  elsewhere  if  we  are  to  be  clothed  with  immortality  as  with  a 
garment." — The  Unseen  Universe. 

"This  is  Life  Eternal— that  they  might  know  Thee,  the  True  God, 
and  Jesns  Christ  whoni  Thou  hast  sent." — Jesus  Christ. 

"Perfect  correspondence  would  be  perfect  life.  Were  there  no 
changes  in  the  environment  but  such  as  the  organism  had  adapted 
changes  to  meet,  and  were  it  never  to  fail  in  the  efficiency  with  which 
it  met  them,  there  would  be  eternal  existence  and  eternal  knowl- 
edge."—ii/er&er'^  Spencer. 

One  of  the  most  startling  achievements  of  recent 
science  is  a  definition  of  Eternal  Life.  To  the 
religious  mind  this  is  a  contribution  of  immense 
moment.  For  eighteen  hundred  years  only  one 
definition  of  Life  Eternal  was  before  the  world. 
Now  there  are  two. 

Through  all  these  centuries  revealed  religion 
had  this  doctrine  to  itself.  Ethics  had  a  voice, 
as  well  as  Christianity,  on  the  question  of  the 
fiummum  honum;  Philosoj^hy  ventured  to  specu- 
late on  the  Being  of  a  God.  But  no  source 
outside  Christianity  contributed  anything  to  the 
doctrine  of  Eternal  Life.  Apart  from  Revelation, 
this  great  truth  was  unguaranteed.  It  was  the 
one  thing  in  the  Christian  system  that  most  needed 
verification  from  without,  yet  none  was  forthcom- 


150  ETEEN^AL   LIFE. 

ing.  And  never  has  any  further  light  been  thrown 
upon  the  question  why  in  its  very  nature  the 
Cliristian  Life  should  be  Eternal.  Christianity 
itself  even  upon  this  point  has  been  obscure.  Its 
decision  upon  the  bare  fact  is  authoritative  and 
specific.  But  as  to  what  there  is  in  the  Spiritual 
Life  necessarily  endowing  it  with  the  element  of 
Eternity,  the  maturest  theology  is  all  but  silent. 

It  has  been  reserved  for  modern  biology  at 
once  to  defend  and  illuminate  this  central  truth 
of  the  Cliristian  faith.  And  hence  in  the  in- 
terests of  religion,  practical  and  evidential,  this 
second  and  scientific  definition  of  Eternal  Life 
is  to  be  hailed  as  an  announcement  of  command- 
ing interest.  Why  it  should  not  yet  have  received 
the  recognition  of  religious  thinkers — for  already 
it  has  lain  some  years  unnoticed — is  not  difficult 
to  understand.  The  belief  in  Science  as  an  aid  to 
faith  is  not  yet  ripe  enough  to  warrant  men  in 
searching  there  for  witnesses  to  the  highest  Chris- 
tian truths.  The  inspiration  of  Nature,  it  is 
thought,  extends  to  the  humbler  doctrines  alone. 
And  yet  the  reverent  inquirer  who  guides  his  steps 
in  the  right  direction  may  find  even  now  in  the 
still  dim  twilight  of  the  scientific  world  much  that 
will  illuminate  and  intensify  his  sublimest  faith. 
Here,  at  least,  comes,  and  comes  unbidden,  the 
opportunity  of  testing  the  most  vital  point  of  the 
Christian  system.  Hitherto  the  Christian  philoso- 
])her  has  remained  content  with  the  scientific  evi- 
dence against  Annihilation.  Or,  with  Butler,  he 
has  reasoned  from  the  Metamorphoses  of  Insects 
to  a  future  life.  Or  again,  with  the  authors  of 
"The  Unseen  Universe,"  the  apologist  has  con- 
structed elaborate,  and  certainly  impressive,  argiT- 
ments  upon  the  Law  of  Continuity.  But  now  we 
may  draw  nearer.  For  the  first  time  Science 
touches  Christianity  positive! i/  on  the  doctrine  of 
Immortality.  It  confronts  us  with  an  actual  defi- 
nition of  an  Eternal  Life,  based  on  a  full  and 
rigidly  accurate  examination  of  the  necessary  con- 
ditions. Science  does  not  pretend  that  it  can  ful- 
fill these  conditions.     Its  votaries  make  no  claim 


ETERXAL   LIFE.  151 

to  possess  the  Eteriuil  Life.  It  simply  postulates 
the  requisite  conditions  without  concerning  itself 
whether  any  organism  should  ever  appear,  or  does 
now  exist,  which  might  fulfill  them.  The  claim 
of  religion,  on  the  other  hand,  is  that  there  are 
organisms  which  possess  Eternal  Life.  And  the 
]irobleni  for  us  to  solve  is  this:  Do  those  who  pro- 
fess to  possess  Eternal  Life  fulfill  the  conditions 
required  by  Science,  or  are  they  different  condi- 
tions? In  a  word,  Is  the  Christian  conception  of 
Eternal  Life  scientific  ? 

It  may  be  unnecessary  to  notice  at  the  outset  that 
the  definition  of  Eternal  Life  drawn  up  by 
Science  was  framed  without  reference  to  religion. 
It  must  indeed  have  been  the  last  thought  with 
the  thinker  to  whom  we  chiefly  owe  it,  that  in 
unfolding  the  conception  of  a  Life  in  its  very 
nature  necessarily  eternal,  he  was  contributing  to 
Theology. 

Mr.  Herbert  Spencer — for  it  is  to  him  we  owe 
it — would  be  the  first  to  admit  the  impartiality 
of  his  definition;  and  from  the  connection  in 
which  it  occurs  in  his  writings,  it  is  obvious  that 
religion  was  not  even  present  to  his  mind.  He 
Is  analyizing  with  minute  care  the  relations 
between  Environment  and  Life.  He  unfolds  the 
principle  according  to  wdiich  Life  is  high  or  low, 
long  or  short.  He  shows  why  organisms  live  and 
why  they  die.  And  finally  he  defines  a  condition 
of  things  in  which  an  organism  would  never  die 
■ — in  which  it  would  enjoy  a  perjietual  and  perfect 
Life.  This  to  him  is,  of  course,  but  a  specula- 
tion. Life  Eternal  is  a  biological  conceit.  The 
conditions  necessary  to  an  Eternal  Life  do  not 
exist  in  the  natural  world.  So  that  the  definition 
is  altogether  impartial  and  independent.  A  Per- 
fect Life,  to  Science,  is  simply  a  thing  which  is 
theoretically  possible — like  a  Perfect  Vacuum. 

Before  giving,  in  so  many  words,  the  definition 
of  ]Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  it  will  render  it  fully 
intelligible  if  we  gradually  lead  up  to  it  by  a  brief 
rehearsal  of  the  few  and  simple  biological  facts  on 
which  it  is  based.     In  considering  the  subject  of 


152  ETERNAL   LIFE. 

Death,  we  have  formerly  seen  that  tliere  are 
degrees  of  Jjife.  By  this  is  meant  that  some  lives 
have  more  and  fuller  correspondence  with  Envir- 
onment than  others.  The  amount  of  correspond- 
ence, again,  is  determined  by  the  greater  or  less 
complexity  of  the  organism.  Thus  a  simple 
organism  like  the  Amoeba  is  possessed  of  very  few 
correspondences.  It  is  a  mere  sac  of  transj^arent 
structureless  jelly  for  which  organization  has  done 
almost  nothing,  and  hence  it  can  only  communi- 
cate with  the  smallest  possible  area  of  Environ- 
ment. An  insect,  in  virtue  of  its  more  complex 
structure,  corresponds  with  a  wider  area.  Nature 
has  endowed  it  with  special  faculties  for  reaching 
out  to  the  Environment  on  many  sides;  it  has 
more  life  tluin  the  Amoeba.  In  other  words,  it 
is  a  higher  animal.  Man  again,  whose  body  is 
still  further  differentiated,  or  broken  up  into 
dift'ei'ent  correspondences,  finds  himself  en  rapport 
with  his  surroundings  to  a  further  extent.  And 
therefore  he  is  higher  still,  more  living  still. 
And  this  law,  that  the  degree  of  Life  varies  with 
the  degree  of  correspondence,  holds  to  the  minutest 
detail  thoroughout  the  entire  range  of  living 
things.  Life  becomes  fuller  and  fuller,  richer 
and  richer,  more  and  more  sensitive  and  respon- 
sive to  an  ever-widening  Environment  as  we 
arise  in  the  chain  of  being. 

Now  it  will  speedily  appear  that  a  distinct 
relation  exists,  and  must  exist,  between  complex- 
ity and  longevity.  Death  being  brought  about 
by  the  failure  of  an  organism  to  adjust  itself  to 
some  change  in  the  Environment,  it  follows  that 
those  organisms  which  are  able  to  adjust  them- 
selves most  readily  and  successfully  will  live  the 
longest.  They  will  continue  time  after  time  to 
effect  the  appropriate  adjustment,  and  their 
power  of  doing  so  will  be  exactly  proportionate  to 
their  complexity — that  is,  to  the  amount  of  Envir- 
onment they  can  control  with  their  correspond- 
ences. There  are,  for  example,  in  the  Environ- 
ment of  every  animal  certain  things  which  are 
directly  or  indirectly  dangerous  to  Life.     If  il8 


ETERNAL  LIFE.  153 

equipment  of  correspondences  is  not  complete 
enough  to  enable  it  to  avoid  these  dangers  in  all 
possible  circumstances,  it  must  sooner  or  later 
succumb.  I'he  organism  then  with  the  most 
perfect  set  of  correspondences"  that  is.  the  highest 
and  most  complex  organism,  has  an  obvious 
advantage  over  less  complex  forms.  It  can  adjust 
itself  more  perfectly  and  frequently.  But  this 
is  just  the  biological  way  of  saying  that  it  can 
live  the  longest.  And  hence  the  relation  between 
complexity  and  longevity  may  be  expressed  thus — 
the  most  complex  organisms  are  the  longest  lived. 

To  state  and  illustrate  the  proposition  converse- 
ly may  the  point  still  further  clear.  The  less 
highly  organized  an  animal  is,  the  less  will  be  its 
chance  of  remaining  in  lengthened  correspondence 
Avith  its  Environment.  At  some  time  or  other  in 
its  career  circumstances  are  sure  to  occur  to  which 
the  comparatively  immobile  organism  finds  itself 
structurally  unable  to  respond.  Thus  a  Medusa 
tossed  ashore  by  a  wave,  finds  itself  so  out  of 
correspondence  with  its  new  surroundings  that 
its  life  must  pay  the  forfeit.  Had  it  been  able 
by  internal  change  to  adapt  itself  to  external 
change — to  correspond  sufficiently  with  the  new 
environment,  as  for  example  to  crawl,  as  an  eel 
would  have  done,  back  into  that  environment 
with  which  it  had  completer  correspondence — its 
life  might  have  been  spared.  But  had  this 
happened  it  would  continue  to  live  henceforth 
only  so  long  as  it  could  continue  in  correspondence 
with  all  the  circumstances  iu  which  it  might  find 
itself.  Even  if,  however,  it  became  complex 
enough  to  resist  the  ordinary  and  direct  dangers 
of  its  environment,  it  might  still  be  out  of 
correspondence  with  others.  A  naturalist  for 
instance,  might  take  advantage  of  its  want  of 
correspondence  with  particular  sights  and  sounds 
to  capture  it  for  his  cabinet,  or  the  sudden  drop- 
ping of  a  yacht's  anchor  or  the  turn  of  a  screw 
might  cause  its  untimely  death. 

Again,  in  the  case  of  a  bird,  in  virtue  of  its 
more   complex  organization,   there   is  command 


154  ETERKAL   LIFE, 

over  a  much  larger  area  of  enviroumeiit.  It  can 
take  precautions  sncli  as  the  Medusa  could  not; 
it  has  increased  facilities  for  securing  food;  its 
adjustments  all  round  are  more  complex;  and 
therefore  it  ought  to  be  able  to  maintain  its  Life 
for  a  longer  period.  There  is  still  a  large  area, 
however,  over  which  it  has  no  control.  Its  power 
of  internal  change  is  not  complete  enough  to 
afford  it  perfect  correspondence  with  all  external 
(ihanges,  and  its  tenure  of  Life  is  to  that  extent 
insecure.  Its  correspondence,  moreover,  is 
limited  even  with  regard  to  those  external  con- 
ditions with  which  it  has  been  partially  established. 
Thus  a  bird  in  ordinary  circumstances  has  no 
difficulty  in  adapting  itself  to  changes  of  temper- 
ature, but  if  these  are  varied  beyond  the  point  at 
which  its  capacity  of  adjustment  begins  to  fail — 
for  example,  during  an  extreme  winter — the 
organism  being  unable  to  meet  the  condition 
must  perish.  The  human  organism,  on  the  other 
hand,  can  respond  to  this  external  condition,  as 
well  as  to  countless  other  vicissitudes  under  which 
lower  forms  would  inevitably  succumb.  Man's 
adjustments  are  to  the  largest  known  area  of 
Environment,  and  hence  he  ought  to  be  able 
furthest  to  prolong  his  Life. 

It  becomes  evident,  then,  that  as  we  ascend  in 
tlie  scale  of  Life  we  rise  also  in  the  scale  of  lon- 
gevity. The  lowest  organisms  are,  as  a  rule, 
shortlived,  and  the  rate  of  mortality  diminishes 
more  or  less  regularly  as  we  ascend  in  the  animal 
scale.  So  extraordinary  indeed  is  the  mortality 
among  lowly-organized  forms  that  in  most  cases 
a  comj^ensation  is  actually  provided,  nature 
endowing  them  with  a  marvelously  increased 
fertility  in  order  to  guard  against  absolute  extinc- 
tion. Almost  all  lower  forms  are  furnished  not 
only  with  great  reproductive  powers,  but  with 
different  methods  of  propagation,  by  which,  in 
various  circumstances,  and  in  an  incredibly  short 
time,  the  species  can  be  indefinitely  multiplied. 
Ehrenberg  found  that  by  the  repeated  subdivisions 
of  a  single  Paramecium,  no  fewer  than  '^G8,000,- 


ETERNAL   LIFE.  155 

000  similar  organisms  miglit  be  produced  in  ono 
month.  This  power  steadily  decreases  as  we  rise 
higiier  in  the  scale,  until  forms  are  reached  in 
which  one,  two,  or  at  most  three,  come  into  being 
at  a  birth.  It  decreases,  however,  because  it  is  no 
longer  needed.  These  forms  have  a  much  longer 
lease  of  Life.  And  it  may  be  taken  as  a  rule, 
although  it  has  exceptions,  that  complexity  in 
animal  organisms  is  always  associated  wtih  lon- 
gevity. 

It  may  be  objected  that  these  illustrations  are 
taken  merely  from  morbid  conditions.  But 
whether  the  Life  be  cut  short  by  accident  or  by 
disease  the  principle  is  the  same.  All  dissolution 
is  brought  about  practically  in  the  same  way. 
A  certain  condition  in  the  Environment  fails  to 
be  met  by  a  corresponding  condition  in  the  organ- 
ism, and  this  is  death.  x\nd  conversely  the  more 
an  organism  in  virtue  of  its  complexity  can  adapt 
itself  to  all  the  parts  of  its  Environment,  the 
longer  it  will  live.  "It  is  manifest  a  priori,''' 
says  Mr.  Herbert  Sjaencer,  "that  since  changes  in 
the  physical  state  of  the  environment,  as  also 
those  mechanical  actions  and  those  variations  of 
available  food  which  occur  in  it,  are  lia])le  to  stop 
the  processes  going  on  in  the  organism;  and  since 
the  adaptive  changes  in  the  organism  have  the 
effects  of  directly  or  indirectly  counterbalancing 
these  changes  in  the  environment,  it  follows  that 
the  life  of  the  organism  will  be  short  or  long,  low 
or  high,  according  to  the  extent  to  which  changes 
in  the  envii'onment  are  met  by  corresponding 
changes  in  the  organism.  Allowing  a  margin  for 
]ierturbations,  the  life  will  continue  only  while 
the  correspondence  continues;  the  comjileteness 
of  the  life  will  be  proportionate  to  the  complete- 
ness of  the  correspondence;  and  the  life  will  be 
perfect  only  when  the  correspondence  is  perfect."* 

AVe  are  now  all  but  in  sight  of  our  scientific 
definitions  of  Eternal  Life.  The  desideratum  is 
an  organism  with    a   correspondence    of  a  very 

*  "Principles  of  Biology,"  p.  82. 


156  ETEKXAL   LIFE. 

exceptional  kind.  It  mnst  lie  be^^ond  the  reacii 
of  those  "mechanical  actions"  and  those  "varia- 
tions of  available  food,"  which  are  "liable  to  stof 
the  processes  going  on  in  the  organism."  Before 
we  reach  an  Eternal  Life  we  mnst  pass  beyond 
that  point  at  which  all  ordinary  correspondences 
inevitably  cease.  We  mnst  tind  an  organism  so 
high  and  complex,  tiat  at  some  point  in  its 
develojjment  it  shall  have  added  a  correspondence 
which  organic  death  is  powerless  to  arrest.  We 
mnst  in  short  pass  beyond  that  definite  region 
where  the  correspondences  depend  on  evanescent 
and  material  media,  and  enter  a  fnrther  region 
where  the  Environment  corresponded  with  is 
itself  Eternal.  Such  an  Environment  exists. 
The  Environment  of  the  Spiritual  world  is  outside 
the  influence  of  these  "mechanical  actions," 
which  sooner  or  later  interrupt  the  jirocesses  going 
on  in  all  finite  organisms.  If  then  we  can  find 
an  organism  which  has  established  a  correspond- 
ence with  the  spiritual  world,  that  correspond- 
ence will  possess  the  elements  of  eternity — pro- 
vided only  one  other  condition  be  fulfilled. 

That  condition  is  that  the  Environment  be 
perfect.  If  it  is  not  perfect,  if  it  is  not  the 
highest,  if  it  is  endowed  with  the  finite  quality 
of  change,  there  can  be  no  guarantee  that  the 
Life  of  its  correspondents  will  be  eternal.  Some 
change  might  occur  in  it  which  the  correspondents 
had  no  adaptive  changes  to  meet,  and  Life  would 
cease.  But  grant  a  spiritual  organism  in  perfect 
correspondence  with  a  perfect  spiritual  Environ- 
ment, and  the  conditions  necessary  to  Eternal 
Life  are  satisfied. 

The  exact  terms  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's 
definition  of  Eternal  Life  may  now  be  given. 
And  it  will  be  seen  that  they  include  essentially 
the  conditions  here  laid  down.  "  Perfect  corre- 
spondence would  be  perfect  life.  Were  there  no 
changes  in  the  environment  but  such  as  the 
organism  had  adapted  changes  to  meet,  and  were 
it  never  to  fail  in  the  efficiency  with  which  it 
met  them,  there  would  be  eternal  existence  and 


ETERXAL   LIFE.  15? 

eternal  knowledge."*  Reserving  the  question  as 
to  the  possible  falfillment  of  these  conditions,  let 
us  turn  for  :i  moment  to  the  definition  of  Eternal 
Life  laid  down  by  Christ,  Let  us  place  it  along- 
side the  definition  of  Science,  and  mark  the 
jjoints  of  contact.  L'^ninterrupted  correspondence 
with  a  perfect  Environment  is  Eternal  Life  accord- 
ing to  Science.  "This  is  Life  Eternal,"  said 
Christ,  ''that  they  may  know  Thee,  the  only  true 
God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  Thou  hast  sent."! 
LTfe  Eternal  is  to  know  God.  To  know  God  is 
to  "correspond"  with  God.  To  correspond  with 
God  is  to  correspond  with  a  Perfect  Environment. 
And  the  organism  which  attains  to  this,  in  the 
nature  of  things  must  live  forever.  Here  is 
"eternal  existence  and  eternal  knowledge." 

The  main  point  of  agreement  between  the 
scientific  and  the  religious  definition  is  that  Life 
consists  in  a  peculiar  and  personal  relation  defined 
as  a  '  'correspondence. ' '  This  conception,  that  Life 
consists  in  correspondences,  has  been  so  abundantly 
illustrated  already  that  it  is  now  unnecessary  to 
discuss  it  further.  All  Life  indeed  consists 
essentially  in  correspondences  Avith  various 
Environments.  The  artist's  life  is  a  correspond- 
ence with  art;  the  musician's  with  music.  To 
cut  them  off  from  these  Environments  is  in  that 
relation  to  cut  off  their  Life.  To  be  cut  off  from 
all  Environment  is  death.  To  find  a  new  Envir- 
onment again  and  cultivate  relation  with  it  is  to 
find  a  new  Life.  To  live  is  to  correspond,  and 
to  correspond  is  to  live.  So  much  is  true  i» 
Science.  But  it  is  also  true  in  Eeligion.  And  il 
is  of  great  importance  to  observe  that  to  Religion 
also  the  conception  of  Life  is  a  correspondence 
No  truth  of  Christianity  has  been  more  igno^ 
antly  or  willfully  travestied  than  the  doctrine  a 
Immortality.  The  popular  idea,  in  spite  of  « 
hundred  protests,  is  that  Eternal  Life  is  to  live 
forever.      A  single  glance  at  the  locus  dassicus 


*  "Principles  of  Biology,"  p. 
t  John  xvii. 


158  ETERNAL    LIFE. 

might  have  made  this  error  impossible.  There 
we  are  told  that  Life  Eternal  is  not  to  live.  This 
is  Life  Eternal — to  know.  And  yet — and  it  is  a 
notorions  instance  of  the  fact  that  men  Avho  are 
opposed  to  Eeligion  will  take  their  conceptions  of 
its  profoundest  truths  from  mere  vulgar  perver- 
sions— this  view  still  represents  to  many  cultivated 
men  the  Scriptural  doctrine  of  Eternal  Life. 
From  time  to  time  the  taunt  is  thrown  at  Relig- 
ion, not  unseldom  from  lips  which  Science 
ought  to  have  taught  more  caution,  that  the 
Future  Life  of  Christianity  is  simply  a  prolonged 
existence,  an  eternal  monotony,  a  blind  and 
indefinite  continuance  of  being.  The  Bible  never 
could  commit  itself  to  any  such  empty  platitudes; 
nor  could  Christianity  ever  offer  to  the  world  a 
hope  so  colorless.  Not  that  Eternal  Life  has 
nothing  to  do  with  everlastingness.  That  is  part 
of  the  conception.  And  it  is  this  aspect  of  the 
question  that  first  arrests  us  in  the  field  of  Science. 
But  even  Science  has  more  in  its  definition  than 
longevity.  It  has  a  correspondence  and  an 
Environment;  and  although  it  cannot  fill  up 
these  terms  for  Religion,  it  can  indicate  at  least 
the  nature  of  the  relation,  the  kijid  of  thing  that 
is  meant  by  Life.  Science  speaks  to  us  indeed  of 
much  more  than  numbers  of  years.  It  defines 
degrees  of  Life.  It  explains  a  widening  Environ- 
ment. It  unfolds  the  relation  between  a*  widen- 
ing Environment  and  increasing  complexity 
in  organisms.  And  if  it  has  no  absolute  contribu- 
tion to  the  content  of  Religion,  its  analogies  are 
not  limited  to  a  point.  It  yields  to  Immortality, 
and  this  is  the  most  that  Science  can  do  in  any 
case,  the  board  framework  for  a  doctrine. 

The  further  definition,  moreover,  of  this 
correspondence  as  knowing  is  in  the  highest 
degree  significant.  Is  not  this  the  precise  quality 
in  an  Eternal  correspondence  which  the  analogies 
of  Science  would  prepare  us  to  look  for?  Lon- 
gevity is  associated  with  complexity.  And  com- 
plexity in  organisms  is  manifested  by  the  succes- 
sive addition  of  correspondences,  each  richer  and 


KTERXAL    LIFE.  159 

larger  than  those  which  have  gone  l)efo]e.  Tlie 
differentiation,  therefore,  of  the  spiritual  orgauisni 
ought  to  be  signalized  by  the  addition  of  tlie 
highest  possible  correspondence.  It  is  not  essen- 
tial to  the  idea  that  the  correspondence  should  be 
altogether  novel;  it  is  necessary  rather  that  it 
should  not.  An  altogether  new  correspondence 
appearing  suddenly  Avithout  shadow  or  prophecy 
would  be  a  violation  of  continnity.  What  we 
shonld  expect  would  be  something  new,  and  yet 
something  that  we  were  already  prepared  for.  We 
shonld  look  for  a  further  development  in  harmony 
with  current  developments;  the  extension  of  the 
last  and  highest  correspondence  in  a  new  and 
higher  direction.  And  this  is  exactly  what  we 
have.  In  the  world  with  wliich  biology  deals. 
Evolution  culminates  in  Knowledge. 

At  whatever  point  in  the  zoological  scale  this 
correspondence,  or  set  of  correspondences,  begins, 
it  is  certain  there  is  nothing  higher.  In  its  stunted 
infancy  merely,  when  we  meet  with  its  rudest  be- 
ginnings in  animal  intelligence,  it  is  a  thing  so 
wonderful,  as  to  strike  every  thoughtful  and  rever- 
ent observer  with  awe.  Even  among  the  inverte- 
])rates  so  marvelonsly  are  these  or  kindred  powers 
displayed,  that  naturalists  do  not  hesitate  now,  on 
the  ground  of  intelligence  at  least,  to  classify  some 
of  the  humblest  creatures  next  to  man  himself.* 
Nothing  in  nature,  indeed,  is  so  unlike  the  rest  of 
nature,  so  prophetic  of  what  is  beyond  it,  sq 
supernatural.  And  as  manifested  in  Man  who 
crowns  creation  with  his  all-embracing  conscious^ 
ness,  there  is  but  one  word  to  describe  his  knowl- 
edge: it  is  Divine.  If  then  from  this  point  there 
is  to  be  any  further  Evolution,  this  surely  must 
be  the  correspondence  in  which  it  shall  take  place? 
This  correspondence  is  great  enough  to  demand 
development;  and  yet  it  is  little  enough  to  need 
it.  The  magnificence  of  what  it  has  achieved 
relatively,  is  the  pledge  of  the  possibility  of  more; 
the    insignificance    of    its     conquest    absolutely 

*  Vide  Sir  John  Lubbock's  "Ants,  Bees,  and  Wasps,"  pp.  1-18L 


160  ETERNAL    LIFE, 

involves  the  probability  of  still  richer  triumphs. 
If  anythiug,  in  short,  in  humanity  is  to  go  on  it 
must  be  this.  Other  correspondences  may  con- 
tinue likewise;  others,  again,  we  can  well  afford 
to  leave  behind.  But  this  cannot  cease.  This 
correspondence — or  this  set  of  correspondences, 
for  it  is  very  complex — is  it  not  that  to  which 
men  with  one  consent  would  attach  Eternal  Life? 
Is  there  anything  else  to  which  they  would  attach 
it?  Is  anjrthiug  better  conceivable,  anything 
worthier,  fuller,  nobler,  anything  which  would 
represent  a  higher  form  of  Evolution  or  offer  a 
more  perfect  ideal  for  an  Eternal  Life? 

But  these  are  questions  of  quality;  and  the 
moment  we  pass  from  quantity  to  quality  we  leave 
Science  behind.  In  the  vocabulary  of  Science, 
Eternity  is  only  the  fraction  of  a  word.  It 
means  mere  everlastingness.  To  Religion,  on 
the  other  hand.  Eternity  has  little  to  do  with 
time.  To  correspond  with  the  God  of  Science, 
the  Eternal  Unknowable,  would  be  everlasting 
existence;  to  correspond  w^ith  "the  true  God  and 
Jesus  Christ,"  is  Eternal  Life.  The  quality  of 
the  Eternal  Life  alone  makes  the  heaven;  mere 
everlastingness  might  be  no  boon.  Even  the  brief 
span  of  the  temporal  life  is  too  long  for  those 
who  spend  its  years  in  sorrow.  Time  itself,  let 
alone  Eternity,  is  all  but  excruciating  to  Doubt. 
And  many  besides  Schopenhauer  have  secretly 
regarded  consciousness  as  the  hideous  mistake 
and  malady  of  Nature.  Therefore  we  must  not 
only  have  quantity  of  years,  to  speak  in  the 
language  of  the  present,  but  quality  of  corre- 
spondence. When  we  leave  Science  behind,  this 
correspondence  also  receives  a  higher  name.  It 
becomes  communion.  Other  names  there  are  for 
it,  religious  and  theological.  It  may  be  included 
in  a  general  expression.  Faith;  or  we  may  call  it 
by  a  personal  and  specific  term.  Love.  For  the 
knowing  of  a  Whole  so  great  involves  the  co- 
operation of  many  parts. 

Communion  with  God — can  it  be  demonstrated 
in  terms  of  Science  that  this  is  a  correspondence 


ETERNAL  LIFE.  161 

whieli  will  never  break?     We  do  not  appeal  to 
Science  for  such  a  testimony.     AVe  have  asked  for 
its  conception  of  an  Eternal  Life;  and  we  have 
received    for    answer    that    Eternal   Life   would 
consist  in  a  correspondence  which  should  never 
cease,  with  an  Environment  which  should  never 
pass  away.     And  yet  what  would  Science  demand 
of  a  perfect  correspondence  that  is  not  met  by 
this,  the  Jcnowing  of  God?    There  is  no  other 
correspondence  which  could  satisfy  one  at  least 
of  the   conditions.     Not    one    ci)uld    be    named 
which  would  not  bear  on  the  face  of  it  the  mark 
and  pledge  of  its  mortality.     But  this,  to  know 
God,  stands  alone.     To  know  God,  to   be   linked 
with  God,  to  be  linked  with  Eternity— if  this  is 
not  the  "eternal  existence"  of  biology,  what  can 
more  nearly  approach  it?    And  yet  we  are  still  a 
great  way  off — to  establish  a  communication  with 
the   Eternal   is  not  to  secure  Eternal  Life.     It 
must  be  assumed  that  the  communication  could 
be  sustained.     And  to  assume  this  would  be  to 
beg  the  question.     So  that  we  have  still  to  prove 
Eternal  Life.     But  let  it  be  again  repeated,  we 
are  not  here  seeking  proofs.     We  are  seeking  light. 
AYe  are  merely  reconnoitring  from  the   furthest 
promontory  of  Science  if  so  be  that  through  the 
haze  we  may  discern  the  outline  of  a  distant  coast 
and  come  to  some  conclusion  as  to  the  possibility 
of  landing. 

But,  it  may  be  replied,  it  is  not  open  to  any 
one  handling  the  question  of  Immortality  from 
the  side  of  Science  to  remain  neutral  as  to  the 
question  of  fact.  It  is  not  enough  to  announce 
that  he  has  no  addition  to  make  to  the  positive 
argument.  This  may  be  permitted  with  reference 
to  other  points  of  contact  between  Science  and 
Religion,  but  not  with  this.  We  are  told  this 
question  is  settled — that  there  is  no  positive  side. 
Science  meets  the  entire  conception  of  Immortality 
with  a  direct  negative.  In  the  face  of  a  power- 
ful consensus  against  even  the  possibility  of  a 
Future  Life,  to  content  one's  self  with  saying  that 


162  ETERNAL   LIFE. 

Science  pretended  to  no  argument  in  favor  of  it 
would  be  at  once  impertinent  and  dislionest.  We 
must  therefore  devote  ourselves  for  a  moment  to 
the  question  of  possibility. 

The  problem  is,  with  a  material  body  and  a 
mental  organization  inseparably  connected  with  it, 
to  bridge  the  grave.  Emotion,  volition,  thought 
itself,  are  functions  of  the  brain.  When  the  brain 
is  impaired,  they  are  impaired.  When  the  brain 
is  not,  they  are  not.  Everything  ceases  with  the 
dissolution  of  the  material  fabric;  muscular  activ- 
ity and  mental  activity  perish  alike.  With  the 
pronounced  positive  statements  on  this  point  from 
many  departments  of  modern  Science  we  are  all 
familiar.  The  fatal  verdict  is  recorded  by  a  hun- 
dred hands  and  with  scarcely  a  shadow  of  qualifi- 
cation. "  Unprejudiced  philosophy  is  compelled 
to  reject  the  idea  of  an  individual  immortality  and 
of  a  personal  continuance  after  death.  With  the 
decay  and  dissolution  of  its  material  substratum, 
through  wiiich  alone  it  has  acquired  a  conscious 
existence  and  become  a  person,  and  upon  which  it 
was  dependent,  the  spirit  must  cease  to  exist."* 
To  the  same  effect  Vogt:  "  Physiology  decides 
definitely  and  categorically  against  individual  im- 
mortality, as  against  any  sj^ecial  existence  of  the 
soul.  The  soul  does  not  enter  the  foetus  like  the 
evil  spirit  into  persons  possessed,  but  is  a  product 
of  the  development  of  the  brain,  just  as  muscular 
activity  is  a  product  of  muscular  development, 
and  secretion  a  product  of  glandular  develop- 
ment," After  a  careful  review  of  the  position  of 
recent  Science  with  regard  to  the  whole  doctrine, 
Mr.  Graham  sums  up  thus:  "  Such  is  the  argu- 
ment of  Science,  seemingly  decisive  against  a 
future  life.  As  we  listen  to  her  array  of  syllo- 
gisms, our  hearts  die  within  us.  The  hopes  of  men, 
placed  in  one  scale  to  be  weighed,  seem  to  fly  up 
against  the  massive  weight  of  her  evidence,  placed 
in  the  other.  It  seems  as  if  all  our  arguments 
were  vaiu  and  unsubstantial,  as  if  our  future  ex- 

*  Bttchner:  '-Force  and  Matter,"  3d  Ed.,  p.  233. 


ETERNAL   LIFE.  103 

pectatioiis  were  the  foolish  dreams  of  children,  as 
if  there  could  not  be  any  other  possible  verdict 
arrived  at  upon  the  evidence  brought  forward."* 
Can  we  go  on  in  the  teeth  of  so  real  an  obstruc- 
tion? Has  not  our  own  weapon  turned  against  us, 
Science  abolishing  with  authoritative  hand  the 
very  truth  we  are  asking  it  to  define? 

What   the  philosopher  has  to  throw  into  the 
other  scale  can  be  easily   indicated.     Generally 
speaking,  he  demurs  to  the  dogmatism  of  the  con- 
clusion.    That   mind   and  brain  react,   that  the 
mental  and  the  physiological  processes  are  related, 
and  very  intimately  related,  is  beyond  controversy. 
But  how  they  are  related,  he  submits,  is  still  alto- 
gether  unknown.     The  correlation  of  mind  and 
brain  do  not  involve  their  identity.     And  not  a  few 
authorities  accordingly  have  consistently  hesitated 
to  draw  any  conclusion  at  all.     Even  Biichner'J 
statement  turns  out,  on  close  examination,  to  be 
tentative  in  the  extreme.     In  prefacing  his  chap- 
ter on  Personal  Continuance,  after  a  single  sen- 
tence on  the  dependence  of  the  soul  and  its  mani- 
festations  upon   a    material  substratum,    he    re- 
marks, "  Though  we  are  unable  to  form  a  definite 
idea  as  to  the  how  of  this  connection,  we  are  still 
by  these  facts  justified  in  asserting,  that  the  mode 
of  this  connection  renders  it  apparently  impossi- 
ble that  they  should  continue  to  exist  separately."! 
There  is,  therefore,  a  flaw  at  this  point  in  the  argu- 
ment for  materialism.     It  may  not  help  the  spirit- 
ualist in  the  least  degree  j^ositively.     He  may  be 
as  far  as  ever  from  a  theory  of  how  consciousness 
could  continue  without  jtlie  material  tissue.     But 
his  contention  secures  for  him  the  right  of  specu- 
lation.     The   path   beyond  may  lie  in   hopeless 
gloom;  but  it  is- not  barred.     He  may  bring  for- 
ward his  theory  if  he  will.     And  this  is  some- 
thing.    For  a  permission  to  go  on  is  often  the 
most  that  Science  can  grant  to  Eeligion. 

Men  have  taken  advantage  of  this  loophole  in 


*  "The  Creed  of  Science,"  p.  169. 
t  "Force  and  Matter,"  p.  231. 


164  ETERNAL   LIFE. 

various  ways.  And  tliough  it  cannot  be  said  tliat 
these  speculations  offer  us  more  tlian  a  probability, 
this  is  still  enough  to  combine  with  the  deep-seated 
expectation  in  the  bosom  of  mankind  and  give 
fresh  luster  to  the  hope  of  a  future  life.  Whether 
we  find  relief  in  the  theory  of  a  simple  dualism; 
whether  with  Ulrici  we  further  define  the  soul  as 
an  invisible  enswathement  of  the  body,  material 
yet  non-atomic;  whether,  with  the  "  Unseen  Uni- 
verse," we  are  helped  by  the  spectacle  of  known 
forms  of  matter  shading  off  into  an  ever-growing 
subtilty,  mobility,  and  immateriality;  or  whether, 
with  AYuudt,  we  regard  the  soul  as  "  the  ordered 
unity  of  many  elements,"  it  is  certain  that  shapes 
can  be  given  to  the  conception  of  a  correspond- 
ence which  shall  bridge  the  grave  such  as  to  sat- 
isfy minds  too  much  accustomed  to  weigh  evidence 
to  put  themselves  off  with  fancies. 

But  whether  the  possibilities  of  physiology  or 
the  theories  of  philosophy  do  or  do  not  substan- 
tially assist  us  in  realizing  Immortality,  is  to  Eelig- 
ion,  to  Religion  at  least  regarded  from  the  present 
point  of  view,  of  inferior  moment.  The  fact  of 
Immortality  rests  for  us  on  a  different  basis.  Prob- 
ably, indeed,  after  all  the  Christian  philosopher 
never  engaged  himself  in  a  more  superfluous  task 
than  in  seeking  along  physiological  lines  to  find 
room  for  a  soul.  The  theory  of  Christianity  has 
only  to  be  fairly  stated  to  make  manifest  its  thor- 
ough independence  of  all  the  usual  speculations  on 
Immortality,  The  theory  is  not  that  thought,  vo- 
lition, or  emotion,  as  such  are  to  survive  the 
grave.  The  difficulty  of  holding  a  doctrine  in 
this  form,  in  spite  of  what  has  been  advanced  to 
the  contrary,  in  spite  of  the  hopes  and  wishes  of 
mankind,  in  spite  of  all  the  scientific  and  philo- 
sophical attempts  to  make  it  tenable,  is  still  pro- 
found. No  secular  theory  of  personal  continuance, 
as  even  Butler  acknowledged,  does  not  equally  de- 
mand the  eternity  of  the  brute.  No  secular  the- 
ory defines  the  point  in  the  chain  of  Evolution  at 
which  organisms  became  endowed  with  Immortal- 
ity.    No  secular  theory  explains  the  condition  of 


ETERNAL   LIFE.  165 

cbe  endowment,  nor  indicates  its  goal.  And  if 
we  have  nothing  more  to  fan  hope  than  the  unex- 
plored mystery  of  the  whole  region,  or  the  un- 
known remainders  among  the  potencies  of  Life, 
then,  as  tliose  who  have  "hope  only  in  this  world," 
we  are  "  of  all'men  the  most  miserable." 

When  we  turn,  on  the  other  hand,  to  the  doc- 
trine as  it  came  from  the  lips  of  Christ,  we  find 
ourselves  in  an  entirely  different  region.  He 
makes  no  attempt  to  project  the  material  into  the 
immaterial.  The  old  elements,  however  refined 
and  subtil  as  to  their  matter,  are  not  in  themselves 
to  inherit  the  Kingdom  of  God.  That  which  is 
flesh  is  flesh.  Instead  of  attaching  Immortality  to 
the  natural  organism,  He  introduces  a  new  and 
original  factor  which  none  of  the  secular,  and  few 
even  of  the  theological  theories,  seem  to  take 
sufficiently  into  account.  To  Christianity,  "  he 
that  hath  the  Son  of  God  hath  Life,  and  he  that 
hath  not  the  Son  hath  not  Life."  This,  as  we 
take  it,  defines  the  correspondence  which  is  to 
bridge  the  grave.  This  is  the  clue  to  the  nature 
of  the  Life  that  lies  at  the  back  of  the  spiritual 
organisii.  And  this  is  the  true  solution  of  the 
mystery  of  Eternal  Life. 

There  lies  a  something  at  the  back  of  the  cor- 
respondences of  the  spiritual  organism — just  as 
there  lies  a  something  at  the  back  of  the  natural 
correspondences.  To  say  that  Life  is  a  correspond- 
ence is  only  to  express  the  partial  truth.  There 
is  something  behind.  Life  manifests  itself  in 
correspondences.  But  what  determines  them? 
The  organism  exhibits  a  variety  of  correspondences. 
What  organizes  them?  As  in  the  natural,  so  in 
the  spiritual,  there  is  a  Principle  of  Life.  We 
cannot  get  rid  of  that  term.  However  clumsy, 
however  provisional,  however  much  a  mere  cloak 
for  ignorance,  Science  as  yet  is  unable  to  dispense 
with  the  idea  of  a  Principle  of  Life.  We  must 
work  with  the  word  till  we  get  a  better.  Now  that 
which  determines  the  correspondence  of  the  spirit- 
ual organism  is  a  Principle  of  Spiritual  Life.  It 
is  a  new  and  Divine  Possession.     He  that  hath  the 


166  ETERNAL   LIFE. 

Son  hath  Life;  conversely,  he  that  hath  Life  hath 
the  Son.  And  this  indicates  at  once  the  quality 
and  the  quantity  of  the  correspondence  which  is 
to  bridge  the  grave.  He  that  hatti  Life  hath  tJw 
Son.  He  possesses  the  Spirit  of  a  Son.  That 
spirit  is,  so  to  speak,  organized  within  him  by  the 
Son.  It  is  the  manifestation  of  the  new  nature — 
of  which  more  anon.  The  fact  to  note  at  present 
is  that  this  is  not  an  organic  correspondence,  but 
a  spiritual  correspondence.  It  comes  not  from 
generation,  but  from  regeneration.  Tlie  relation 
between  the  spiritual  man  and  his  Environment 
is,  in  theological  language,  a  filial  relation.  AVith 
the  new  Spirit,  the  filial  correspondence,  he  knows 
the  Father — and  this  is  Life  Eternal.  This  is  not 
only  the  real  relation,  but  the  only  possible  rela- 
tion: "  Neither  knoweth  any  man  the  Father  save 
the  Son,  and  he  to  whomsoever  the  Son  will  reveal 
Him."  And  this  on  purely  natural  grounds.  It 
takes  the  Divine  to  know  the  Divine — but  in  no 
more  mysterious  sense  than  it  takes  the  human  to 
understand  the  human.  The  analogy,  indeed,  for 
the  whole  field  here  has  been  finely  expressed 
already  by  Paul:  "What  man,"  he  asks,  "know- 
eth the  things  of  a  man,  save  the  spirit  of  man 
which  is  in  him?  even  so  the  things  of  God 
knoweth  no  man,  but  the  Spirit  of  God.  Now 
we  have  received,  not  the  spirit  of  the  world,  but 
the  Spirit  which  is  of  God;  that  we  might  know 
the  things  that  are  freely  given  to  us  of  God."* 
It  were  idle,  such  being  the  quality  of  the  new 
relation,  to  add  that  this  also  contains  the  guaran- 
tee of  its  eternity.  Here  at  last  is  a  correspond- 
ence which  will  never  cease.  Its  powers  in  bridg- 
ing the  grave  have  been  tried.  The  correspond- 
ence of  tlie  spiritual  man  possesses  the  supernat- 
ural virtues  of  the  Eesurrection  and  the  Life.  It 
is  known  by  former  experiment  to  have  survived 
the  "  changes  in  the  physical  state  of  the  environ- 
ment," and  those  "mechanical  actions"  and 
"  variations  of  available  food,"  which  Mr.  Herbert 

*  1  Cor.  ii.  11,  12. 


ETERNAL   LIFE.  167 

Spencer  tells  us  are  "liable  to  stop  the  processes 
going  on  in  the  organism. "  In  short,  this  is  a  cor- 
respondence which  at  once  satisfies  the  demands 
of  Science  and  Religion.  In  mere  quantity  it  is 
different  from  every  other  correspondence  known. 
Setting  aside  everything  else  in  Religion,  every- 
thing adventitious,  local,  and  provisional;  dissect- 
ing in  to  the  bone  and  marrow  we  find  this — a 
correspondence  which  can  never  break  with  an  En- 
vironment which  can  never  change.  Here  is  a 
relation  established  with  Eternity.  The  passing 
years  lay  no  limiting  hand  on  it.  Corruption  in- 
jures it  not.  It  survives  Death.  It,  and  it  only, 
will  stretch  beyond  the  grave  and  be  found  invio- 
late— 

"  When  the  moon  is  old, 

And  the  stars  are  cold, 

And  the  books  of  the  Judgment-day  unfold. " 

The  misgiving  which  will  creep  sometimes  over 
the  brightest  faith  has  already  received  its  expres- 
sion and  its  rebuke:  "'  Who  shall  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  Christ?  Shall  tribulation,  or  distress, 
or  persecution,  or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril, 
or  sword?  "  Shall  these  "changes  in  the  physical 
state  of  the  environment"  which  threaten  death 
to  the  natural  man  destroy  the  spiritual?  Shall 
death,  or  life,  or  angels,  or  principalities,  or  pow- 
ers, arrest  or  tamper  with  his  eternal  correspond- 
ences? "Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are  more 
than  conquerors  through  Him  that  loved  us.  For 
I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor 
angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth, 
nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us 
from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord."* 

It  may  seem  an  objection  to  some  that  the  "per- 
fect correspondence"  should  come  to  man  in  so 
extraordinary  a  way.  The  earlier  stages  in  the 
doctrine  are  promising  enough;  they  are  entirely 
in  line  with  Nature.     And  if  Nature  had  also  fur- 

*  Rom.  viii.  35-39. 


168  ETEENAL  LIFE. 

nislied  the  "perfect  correspondence"  demanded 
for  an  Eternal  Life  the  position  might  be  unassail- 
able. But  this  sudden  reference  to  a  something 
outside  the  natural  Environment  destroys  the  con- 
tinuity, and  discovers  a  permanent  weakness  in  the 
whole  theory? 

To  which  there  is  a  twofold  reply.  In  the  first 
place,  to  go  outside  what  we  call  Natui'e  is  not  to 
go  outside  Environment.  Nature,  the  natural 
Environment,  is  only  a  part  of  Environment. 
There  is  another  large  part  which,  though  some 
profess  to  have  no  correspondence  with  it,  is  noi 
on  that  account  unreal,  or  even  unnatural.  The 
mental  and  moral  world  is  unknown  to  the  plant. 
But  it  is  real.  It  cannot  be  affirmed  either  that  it 
is  unnatural  to  the  plant;  although  it  might  be 
said  that  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  Vegetable 
Kingdom  it  was  siq^er natural.  Things  are  natural 
or  supernatural  simply  according  to  where  one 
stands.  Man  is  supernatural  to  the  mineral;  God 
is  supernatural  to  the  man.  When  a  mineral  is 
seized  upon  by  the  living  plant  and  elevated  to  the 
organic  kingdom,  no  trespass  against  Nature  is 
committed.  It  merely  enters  a  larger  Environ- 
ment, which  before  was  supernatural  to  it,  but 
which  now  is  entirely  natural.  When  the  heart 
of  a  man,  again,  is  seized  upon  by  the  quickening 
Spirit  of  God,  no  further  violence  is  done  to  nat- 
ural law.  It  is  another  case  of  the  inorganic,  so  to 
speak,  passing  into  the  organic. 

But  in  the  second  place,  it  is  complained  as  if 
it  were  an  enormity  in  itself  that  the  spiritual 
correspondence  should  be  furnished  from  the 
spiritual  world.  And  to  this  the  answer  lies  in 
the  same  direction.  Correspondence  in  any  case 
is  the  gift  of  Environment.  The  natural  Environ- 
ment gives  men  their  natural  faculties;  the  spirit- 
nal  affords  them  their  spiritual  faculties.  It  is 
natural  for  the  spiritual  Environment  to  supply 
ihe  spiritual  faculties;  it  would  be  quite  unnat- 
aral  for  the  natural  Environment  to  do  it.  The 
flatiiral  law  of  Biogenesis  forbids  it;  the  moral 
iaci.  that  the  finite  cannot  comprehend  the  Infinite 


ETERKAIi   LIFE.  169 

is  against  it;  the  s])iritiial  principle  that  flesh  and 
blood  cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God  renders  it 
absurd.  Not,  however,  that  the  spiritual  faculties 
are,  as  it  were,  manufactured  in  the  spiritual  world 
and  supplied  leady-nuide  to  the  spiritual  organism 
— forced  upon  it  as  an  external  equipment.  This 
certainly  is  not  involved  in  saying  that  the  spirit 
uul  faculties  are  furnished  by  the  spiritual  world. 
Organisms  are  not  added  to  by  accretion,  as  in  tlie 
case  of  minerals,  but  by  growth.  And  the  spirit- 
ual faculties  are  organized  in  the  spiritual  proto- 
plasm of  the  soul,  just  as  other  faculties  are  organ- 
ized in  the  protoplasm  of  the  body.  The  plant  is 
made  of  materials  which  have  once  been  inorganic. 
An  organizing  principle  not  belonging  to  their 
kingdom  lays  hold  of  them  and  elaborates  them 
until  they  have  correspondences  with  the  kingdom 
to  which  the  organizing  principle  belonged. 
Their  original  organizing  principle,  if  it  can  be 
called  by  this  name,  was  CrystaJization ;  so  that 
we  have  now  a  distinctly  foreign  power  organizing 
in  totally  new  and  higher  directions.  In  the 
spiritual  world,  similarly,  we  find  an  organizing 
principle  at  work  among  the  materials  of  the  or- 
ganic kingdom,  performing  a  further  miracle,  but 
not  a  different  kind  of  miracle,  producing  orgaTi- 
izations  of  a  novel  kind,  but  not  by  a  novel 
method.  The  second  process,  in  fact,  is  simply 
what  an  enlightened  evolutionist  would  have  ex- 
pected from  the  first.  It  marks  the  natural  and 
legitimate  progress  of  the  development.  And  this 
in  the  line  of  the  true  Evolution — not  the  linear 
Evolution,  which  would  look  for  the  development 
of  the  natural  man  through  powers  already  inher- 
ent, as  if  one  were  to  look  to  Crystalization  to  ac- 
complish the  development  of  the  mineral  into  the 
plant — but  that  larger  form  of  Evolution  which 
includes  among  its  factors  the  double  Law  of  Bi- 
ogenesis and  the  immense  further  truth  that  this 
involves. 

What  is  further  included  in  this  complex  corre- 
spondence we  shall  have  opportunity  to  illustrate 


170  ETEKNAL   LIFE. 

afterw^fd.*  Meantime  let  it  be  noted  on  what 
the  Christian  argument  for  Immortality  really 
rests.  It  stands  upon  the  jJedestal  on  which  the 
theologian  rests  the  whole  of  historical  Christian- 
ity— the  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ. 

It  ought  to  be  placed  in  the  forefront  of  all 
Christian  teaching  that  Christ's  mission  on  earth 
was  to  give  men  Life.  "I  am  come/"  He  said, 
"  that  ye  might  have  Life,  and  that  ye  might  have 
it  more  abundantly."  And  that  He  meant  litenr 
Life,  literal  spiritual  and  Eternal  Life,  is  clea: 
from  the  whole  course  of  His  teaching  and  acting. 
To  impose  a  metaphorical  meaning  on  the  common- 
est word  of  the  New  Testament  is  to  violate  every 
canon  of  interpretation,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
charge  the  greatest  of  teachers  with  persistently 
mystifying  His  hearers  by  an  unusual  use  of  so 
exact  a  vehicle  for  exjiressing  definite  thought  as 
the  Greek  language,  and  that  on  the  most  momen- 
tous subject  of  which  He  ever  spoke  to  men.  It 
is  a  canon  of  interj^retation,  aocording  to  Alford, 
that  "a  figurative  sense  of  words  is  never  admis- 
sible except  Avhen  required  by  the  context."  The 
context,  in  most  cases,  is  not  only  directly  unfav- 
orable to  a  figurative  meaning,  but  in  innumerable 
instances  in  Christ's  teaching  Life  is  broadly  con- 
trasted with  Death.  In  the  teaching  of  the  apos- 
tles, again,  we  find  that,  without  exception,  they 
accepted  the  term  in  its  simple  literal  sense. 
Eeuss  defines  the  apostolic  belief  with  his  usual 
impartiality  when — and  the  quotation  is  doubly 
l)ertinent  here — he  discovers  in  the  apostle's  con- 
ception of  Life,  first,  "the  idea  of  a  real  existence, 
an  existence  such  as  is  proper  to  God  and  to  the 
Word;  an  imperishable  existence — that  is  to  say, 
not  subject  to  the  vicissitudes  and  imiierfections 
of  the  finite  world.  This  primaiy  idea  is  repeat- 
edly expressed,  at  least  in  a  negative  form;  it  leads 
lo  a  doctrine  of  immortality,  or,  to  speak  more 
correctly,  of  life,  far  surpassing  any  that  had  been 
expressed  in  the  formulas  of  the  current  philosoph  y 

*  Vide  "  Conformity  to  Type,"  page  387. 


ETERNAL  LIFE,  171 

or  theology,  and  resting  npon  premises  and  con- 
ceptions altogether  different.  In  fact,  it  can  dis- 
pense both  with  the  pliilosopliical  thesis  of  the 
immateriality  or  indestrnctibility  of  the  human 
soul,  and  with  the  theological  thesis  of  a  miracu- 
lous corporeal  reconstruction  of  our  person;  theses, 
the  first  of  which  is  altogether  foreign  to  the  relig- 
ion of  the  Bible,  and  the  second  absolutely  opposed 
to  reason."  Second,  "the  idea  of  life,  as  it  is 
conceived  in  this  system,  implies  the  idea  of  a 
power,  an  operation,  a  communication,  since  this 
life  no  longer  remains,  so  to  speak,  latent  or  pas- 
sive in  God  and  in  the  Word,  but  through  them 
reaches  the  believer.  It  is  not  a  mental  somnolent 
thing;  it  is  not  a  plant  without  fruit;  it  is  a  germ 
which  is  to  find  fullest  development."* 

If  we  are  asked  to  define  'more  clearly  what  is 
meant  by  this  mysterious  endowment  of  Life,  Ave 
again  hand  over  the  difficulty  to  Science.  When 
Science  can  define  the  Natural  Life  and  the  Phys- 
ical Force  we  may  hope  for  further  clearness  on 
the  nature  and  action  of  the  Spiritual  Powers, 
The  effort  to  detect  the  living  Sjoirit  must  be  at 
least  as  idle  as  the  attempt  to  subject  protoplasm 
to  microscopic  examination  in  the  hoi^e  of  discov- 
ering Life,  We  are  warned,  also,  not  to  expect 
too  much,  "  Thou  canst  not  tell  whence  it 
Cometh  or  whither  it  goeth,"  This  being  its 
quality,  when  the  Spiritual  Life  is  discovered  in 
tlie  laboratory  it  will  possibly  be  time  to  give  it  up 
altogether.  It  may  say,  as  Socrates  of  his  soul, 
"  You  may  bury  me — if  you  can  catch  me." 

Science  never  corroborates  a  spiritual  truth  with- 
out illuminating  it.  The  threshold  of  Eternity  is 
a  place  where  many  shadows  meet.  And  the  light 
of  Science  here,  where  everything  is  so  dark,  is 
welcome  a  thousand  times.  Many  men  would  be 
religious  if  they  knew  where  to  begin;  many  would 
be  more  religious  if  they  were  sure  where  it  would 
end.     It  is  not  indifference  that  keeps  some  men 


*  "History  of  Christian  Theology  in  the  Apostolic  Age,"  vol.  ii.  p 
49C. 


173  ETERNAL  LIFE. 

from  God,  but  ignorance.  "  Good  Master,  what 
must  I  do  to  inherit  Eternal  Life?"  is  still  the 
deepest  question  of  the  age.  What  is  Religion? 
What  am  I  to  believe?  What  seek  with  all  my 
heart  and  soul  and  mind? — this  is  the  imperious 
question  sent  up  to  consciousness  from  the  depths 
of  being  in  all  earnest  hours;  sent  down  again, 
alas,  with  many  of  us,  time  after  time,  unanswered. 
Into  all  our  thought  and  work  and  reading  this 
question  pursues  us.  But  the  theories  are  rejected 
one  by  one;  the  great  books  are  returned  sadly  to 
their  shelves,  the  years  pass,  and  the  problem  re- 
mains unsolved.  The  confusion  of  tongues  here  is 
terrible.  Every  day  a  new  authority  announces  him- 
self. Poets,  philosophers,  preachers  try  their  hand 
on  us  in  turn.  New  prophets  arise,  and  beseech  us 
for  our  soul's  sake  to  give  ear  to  them — at  last  in 
an  hour  of  inspiration  they  have  discovered  the 
final  truth.  Yet  the  doctrine  of  yesterday  is 
challenged  by  a  fresh  philosophy  to-day:  and  the 
creed  of  to-day  will  fall  in  turn  before  the  criticism 
of  to-morrow.  Increase  of  knowledge  increaseth 
sorrow.  And  at  length  the  conflicting  truths,  like 
the  beams  of  light  in  the  laboratory  experiment, 
combine  in  the  mind  to  make  total  darkness. 

But  here  are  two  outstanding  authorities  agreed 
— not  men,  not  philosophers,  not  creeds.  Here  is 
the  voice  of  God  and  the  voice  of  Nature.  I  can- 
not be  wrong  if  I  listen  to  them.  Sometimes 
when  uncertain  of  a  voice  from  its  very  loudness, 
■\v'e  catch  the  missing  syllable  in  the  echo.  In  God 
and  Nature  we  have  Voice  and  Echo.  When  I 
hear  both,  I  am  assured.  My  sense  of  hearing 
does  not  betray  me  twice.  I  recognize  the  Voice 
in  the  Echo,  the  Echo  makes  me  certain  of  the 
Voice;  I  listen  and  I  know.  The  question  of  a 
Future  Life  is  a  biological  question.  Nature  may 
be  silent  on  other  problems  of  Religion;  but  here 
she  has  a  right  to  speak.  The  whole  confusion 
around  the  doctrine  of  Eternal  Life  has  arisen  from 
making  it  a  question  of  Philosophy.  We  shall  do 
ill  to  refuse  a  hearing  to  any  spectilation  of  Phi- 
losophy; the  ethical  relations  here  especially  are 


ETERNAL    lAVE.  173 

intimate  and  real.  But  in  tlie  first  instance  Eter- 
nal Life,  as  a  question  of  Life,  is  a  problem  for 
Biology.  The  soul  is  a  living  organism.  And  for 
any  question  as  to  the  soul's  Life  we  must  appeal 
to  Life-science.  And  what  does  the  Life-science 
teach?  That  if  I  am  to  inherit  Eternal  Life,  I 
must  cultivate  a  correspondence  with  the  Eternal. 
This  is  a  simple  proposition,  for  Nature  is  always 
simple.  I  take  this  proposition,  and,  leaving  Na- 
ture, proceed  to  fill  it  in.  I  search  everywhere  for 
a  clue  to  the  Eternal.  I  ransack  literature  for  a 
definition  of  a  correspondence  between  man  and 
God.  Obviously  that  can  only  come  from  one 
source.  And  the  analogies  of  Science  permits  us 
to  apply  to  it.  All  knowledge  lies  in  Environment. 
When  I  want  to  know  about  minerals  I  go  to  min- 
erals. When  I  want  to  know  about  flowers  I  go 
to  flowers.  And  they  tell  me.  In  their  own  way 
they  speak  to  me,  each  in  its  own  way,  and  each 
for  itself — not  the  mineral  for  the  flower,  which  is 
impossible,  nor  the  flower  for  the  mineral,  which 
is  also  impossible.  So  if  I  want  to  know  about 
Man,  I  go  to  his  part  of  the  Environment.  '  And 
he  tells  me  about  himself,  not  as  the  plant  or  the 
mineral,  for  he  is  neither,  but  in  his  own  way. 
And  if  I  want  to  know  about  God,  I  go  to  His 
part  of  the  Environment.  And  He  tells  me  about 
Himself,  not  as  a  Man,  for  He  is  not  Man,  but  in 
His  own  way.  And  just  as  naturally  as  the  flower 
and  the  mineral  and  the  Man,  each  in  their  own 
way,  tell  me  about  themselves.  He  tells  me  about 
Himself.  He  very  strangely  condescends  indeed 
in  making  things  plain  to  me,  actually  assuming 
for  a  time  the  Form  of  a  Man  that  I  at  my  poor 
level  may  better  see  Him.  This  is  my  opportunity 
to  know  Him.  This  incarnation  is  God  making 
Himself  accessible  to  human  thought — God  open- 
ing to  man  the  possibility  of  correspondence 
through  Jesus  Christ.  And  this  corresjiondence 
and  this  Environment  are  those  I  seek.  He  Him- 
self assures  me,  "This  is  Life  Eternal,  that  they 
might  know  Thee,  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus 
Christ  whom  Thou  hast  sent." 


174  ETERNAL  LIFE. 

Do  I  not  now  discern  the  deeper  meaning  in 
''Jesus  Clirist  wliom  Thou  hast  sentf  Do  I  not 
better  understand  with  what  vision  and  rapture 
the  profoundest  of  tlie  disciples  exclaims,  "The 
Son  of  Ciiod  is  come,  and  hath  given  us  an  under- 
standing that  we  might  know  Him  that  is 
True?"  * 

Having  opened  correspondence  with  the  Eternal 
Environment,  the  subsequent  stages  are  in  the 
line  of  all  other  normal  development.  We  have 
but  to  continue,  to  deepen,  to  extend,  and  to  en- 
rich the  correspondence  that  has  been  begun. 
And  we  shall  soon  find  to  our  surprise  that  this  is 
accompanied  by  another  and  parallel  process.  The 
action  is  not  all  upon  our  side.  The  Environment 
also  will  be  found  to  correspond.  The  influence  of 
Environment  is  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  sub- 
stantial of  modern  biological  doctrines.  Of  the 
power  of  Environment  to  form  or  transform  organ- 
isms, of  its  ability  to  develop  or  suppress  function, 
of  its  potency  in  determining  growth,  and  gener- 
ally of  its  immense  influence  in  Evolution,  there 
is  no  need  now  to  speak.  But  Environment  is  now 
acknowledged  to  be  one  of  the  most  potent  factors 
in  the  Evolution  of  Life.  The  influence  of  Envir- 
onment too  seems  to  increase  rather  than  diminish 
as  we  approach  the  higher  forms  of  being.  The 
highest  forms  are  the  most  mobile  ;  their  capacity 
of  change  is  the  greatest;  they  are,  in  short,  most 
easily  acted  on  by  Environment.  And  not  only 
are  the  highest  organisms  the  most  mobile,  but  the 
highest  part  of  the  highest  organisms  are  more 
mobile  than  the  lower.  Environment  can  do  little, 
comparatively,  in  the  direction  of  inducing  varia- 
tion in  the  body  of  a  child:  but  how  plastic  is  its 
mind!  How  infinitely  sensitive  is  its  soul!  How 
infallibly  can  it  be  turned  to  music  or  to  dissonance 
by  the  moral  harmony  or  discord  of  its  outward 
lot!  How  decisively  indeed  are  we  not  all  formed 
and  moulded,  made  or  unmade,  by  external  circum- 
stance!    Might  we  not  all  confess  with  Ulysses — 

*  1  John  V.  20. 


ETERNAL   LIFE.  17o 

"I  am  a  part  of  all  that  I  have  met." 

Much  more,  then,  shall  we  look  for  the  influ- 
ence of  Environment  on  the  spiritual  nature  of 
him  who  has  opened  correspondence  with  God. 
lieaching  out  his  eager  and  quickened  faculties  to 
the  spiritual  world  around  him,  shall  he  not  be- 
come spiritual?  In  vital  contact  with  Holiness, 
shall  he  not  become  holy?  Breathing  now  an  at- 
mosphere of  ineffable  Purity,  shall  he  miss  becojii- 
ing  pure?  Walking  with  God  from  day  to  day, 
shall  he  fail  to  be  taught  of  God? 

Growth  in  grace  is  sometimes  described  as  a 
strange,  mystical,  and  unintelligible  process.  It 
is  mystical,  but  neither  strange  nor  unintelligible. 
It  proceeds  according  to  Natural  Law,  and  the 
leading  factor  in  sanctification  is  Influence  of 
Environment.  The  possibility  of  it  depends  upon 
the  mobility  of  the  organism;  the  result,  on  the 
extent  and  frequency  of  certain  correspondences. 
These  facts  insensibly  lead  on  to  a  further  sugges- 
tion. Is  it  not  possible  that  these  biological 
truths  may  carry  with  them  the  clue  to  still 
profounder  philosophy — even  that  of  Regenera- 
tion ? 

Evolutionists  tell  us  that  by  the  influence  of 
environment  certain  aquatic  animals  have  become 
adapted  to  a  terrestrial  mode  of  life.  Breathing 
normally  by  gills,  as  the  result  and  reward  of  a 
continued  effort  carried  on  from  generation  to 
generation  to  inspire  the  air  of  heaven  direct, 
they  have  slowly  acquired  the  lung-function.  In 
the  young  organism,  true  to  the  ancestral  tyjie, 
the  gill  still  j)ersists — as  in  the  tadj)ole  of  the 
common  frog.  But  as  maturity  approaches  the 
true  lung  appears;  the  gill  gradually  transfers  its 
task  to  the  higher  organ.  It  then  becomes 
atrophied  and  disappears,  and  finally  respiration 
in  the  adult  is  conducted  by  lungs  alone.*  AVe 
may  be  far,  in  the  meantime,  from  saying  that 

*  Vide  al8o  the  remarkable  experiments  of  Fraiilein  v.  Chauvin  on 
the  Transformation  of  the  Mexiean  Axototl  into  Amblystoma. — Wei8- 
mann'b  "Studies  in  the  Theory  of  Debceut,"  vol.  ii.  pt.  iii. 


176  ETERNAL   LIFE. 

this  is  proved.  It  is  for  those  who  accept  it  to 
deny  the  justice  of  the  spiritual  analogy.  Is 
religion  to  them  unscientific  in  its  doctrine  of 
Regeneration?  Will  the  evolutionist  who  admits 
the  regeneration  of  the  frog  under  the  modifying 
influence  of  a  continued  correspondence  with  a 
new  environment,  care  to  question  the  possibility 
of  the  soul  acquiring  such  a  faculty  as  that  of 
Prayer,  the  marvelous  breathing-function  of  the 
new  creature,  when  in  contact  with  the  atmo- 
sphere of  a  besetting  God  ?  Is  the  change  from  the 
earthly  to  the  heavenly  more  mysterious  than  the 
change  from  the  aquatic  to  the  terrestrial  mode  of 
life?  Is  Evolution  to  stop  with  the  organic?  If 
it  be  objected  that  it  has  takeji  ages  to  i:)erfect  the 
function  in  the  batrachian,  the  reply  is,  that  it 
will  take  ages  to  perfect  the  function  in  the 
Christian.  For  every  thousand  years  the  natural 
evolution  will  allow  for  the  development  of  its 
organism,  the  Higher  Biology  will  grant  its  prod- 
uct millions.  We  have  indeed  spoken  of  the 
spiritual  correspondence  as  already  perfect — but 
it  is  perfect  only  as  the  bud  is  perfect.  "It  doth 
not  yet  appear  what  it  shall  be,"  any  more  than 
it  appeared  a  million  years  ago  what  the  evolving 
batrachian  would  be. 

But  to  return.  We  have  been  dealing  with  the 
scientific  aspects  of  communion  with  God.  In- 
sensibly, from  quantity  we  have  been  led  to  speak 
of  quality.  And  enough  has  now  been  advanced 
to  indicate  generally  the  nature  of  that  correspond- 
ence with  which  is  necessarily  associated  Eiernal 
Life.  There  remain  but  one  or  two  details  to 
which  we  must  lastly,  and  very  briefly,  address 
ourselves. 

The  quality  of  everlastingness  belongs,  as  we 
have  seen,  to  a  single  correspondence,  or  rather  to 
a  single  set  of  corespondences.  But  it  is  apparent 
that  before  this  correspondence  can  take  full  and 
final  effect  a  further  process  is  necessary.  By 
some  means  it  must  be  separated  from  all  the  other 
correspondences  of  the  organism  which  do  not 
share  its  peculiar  quality.      In    this    life   it  is 


ETEENAL   LIFE.  177 

restrained  by  these  other  correspondences.  They 
may  contribute  to  it,  or  hinder  it;  but  they  are 
essentially  of  a  different  order.  They  belong  not 
to  Eternity  but  to  Time,  and  to  this  present 
world;  and,  unless  some  provision  is  made  for 
dealing  with  them,  they  will  detain  the  asjiiring 
organism  in  this  jiresent  world  till  Time  is  ended. 
Of  course,  in  a  sense,  all  that  belongs  to  Time 
belongs  also  to  Eternity;  but  these  lower  corre- 
spondences are  in  their  nature  unfitted  for  an 
Eternal  Life.  Even  if  they  were  perfect  in  their 
relation  to  their  Environment,  they  would  still 
not  be  Eternal.  However  opposed,  apparently, 
to  the  scientific  definition  of  Eternal  Life,  it  is 
yet  true  that  jierfect  correspondence  with  Envir- 
onment is  not  Eternal  Life.  A  very  important 
word  in  the  complete  definition  is,  in  this  sen- 
tence, omitted.  On  that  word  it  has  not  been 
necessary  hitherto,  and  for  obvious  reasons,  to 
place  any  emphasis,  l)ut  when  we  come  to  deal 
with  false  jDretenders  to  Immortality  we  must 
return  to  it.  "Were  the  definition  complete  as  it 
stands,  it  might,  with  the  permission  of  the 
psycho-physiologist,  guarantee  the  Immortality  of 
every  living  thing.  In  the  dog,  for  instance,  the 
material  framework  giving  way  at  death  might 
leave  the  released  canine  spirit  still  free  to  inhabit 
the  old  Environment.  And  so  with  every  creature 
which  had  ever  established  a  conscious  relation 
with  surrounding  things.  Xow  the  difficulty  in 
framing  a  theory  of  Eternal  Life  has  been  to 
construct  one  which  will  exclude  the  brute  crea- 
tion, drawing  the  line  rigidly  at  man,  or  at  least, 
somewhere  ivithin  the  human  race.  Xot  that  we 
need  object  to  the  Immortality  of  the  dog,  or  of 
the  whole  inferior  creation.  Xor  that  we  need 
refuse  a  place  to  any  intelligible  speculation  which 
would  people  the  earth  to-day  with  the  invisible 
forms  of  all  things  that  have  ever  lived.  Only 
we  still  insist  that  this  is  not  Eternal  Life.  And 
why?  Because  their  Environment  is  not  Eternal. 
Their  correspondence,  however  firmly  established, 
is  established  with  that  which  shall  pass  away. 


17^  ETEllNAL   LIFE. 

An  Eternal  Life  demands  an  Eternal  Environ- 
ment. 

The  demand  for  a  perfect  Environment  as  well 
as  for  a  j^erfect  corresj^ondence  is  less  clear  in  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer's  definition  tlian  it  might  be. 
But  it  is  an  essential  factor.  An  organism  might 
remain  true  to  its  Environment,  but  what  if  the 
Environment  played  it  false?  If  the  organism 
possessed  the  power  to  change,  it  could  adajit 
itself  to  successive  changes  in  the  Environment. 
And  if  this  were  guaranteed  we  should  also  have 
the  conditions  for  Eternal  Life  fulfilled.  But 
what  if  the  Environment  passed  away  altogether? 
What  if  the  earth  swept  suddenly  into  the  sun? 
This  is  a  change  of  Environment  against  which 
there  could  be  no  precaution  and  for  which  there 
could  be  as  little  provision.  With  a  changing 
Environment  even,  there  must  always  remain  tlie 
dread  and  possibility  of  a  falling  out  of  correspond- 
ence. At  the  best,  Life  would  be  uncertain. 
But  with  a  changeless  Environment — such  as  that 
2)ossessed  by  the  spiritual  organism — the  perpetu- 
ity of  the  correspondence,  so  far  as  the  external 
relation  is  concerned,  is  guaranteed.  This 
quality  of  jDermanence  in  the  Environment 
distinguishes  the  religious  relation  from  every 
othsr.  Why  should  not  the  musician's  life  be  an 
Eternal  Life?  Because,  for  one  thing,  the 
musical  world,  the  Environment  with  which  he 
corresponds,  is  not  eternal.  Even  if  his  corre- 
spondence in  itself  could  last,  eternally,  the  envir- 
oning material  things  with  which  he  corresjDonds 
must  pass  away.  His  soul  might  last  forever — 
but  not  his  violin.  So  the  man  of  the  world 
might  last  forever — but  not  the  world.  His 
Environment  is  not  eternal;  nor  are  even  his 
correspondences — the  world  passeth  away  and  the 
lust  thereof. 

We  find  then  that  man,  or  the  spiritual  man, 
is  equipped  witli  two  sets  of  correspondences. 
One  set  possesses  the  quality  of  everlastingness, 
the  other  is  temporal.  But  unless  these  are 
separated    by    some    means    the    temporal    will 


ETERNAL  LIFE.  179 

continue  to  impair  and  hinder  the  ete)Tiah 
The  final  preparation,  therefore,  for  the  inherit- 
ing of  Eternal  Life  must  consist  in  the  abandon- 
ment of  the  non-eternal  elements.  These  must 
be  unloosed  and  dissociated  from  the  higher 
elements.  And  this  is  etfected  by  a  closing 
catastrophe — Death. 

Death  ensues  because  certain  relations  in  the 
organism  are  not  adjusted  to  certain  relations  in 
the  Environment.  There  will  come  a  time  in 
each  history  when  the  imperfect  correspondences 
of  the  organism  will  betray  themselves  by  a  fail- 
ure to  compass  some  necessary  adjustment.  This 
is  why  Death  is  associated  with  Imperfection. 
Death  is  the  necessary  result  of  Imperfection, 
and  the  necessary  end  of  it.  Imperfect  corre- 
spondence gives  imperfect  and  uncertain  Life. 
"  Perfect  correspondence,"  on  the  other  hand, 
according  to  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  would  be 
"perfect  Life."  To  abolish  Death,  therefore,  all 
that  would  be  necessary  would  be  to  abolish  Im- 
perfection. But  it  is  the  claim  of  Christianity 
that  it  can  abolish  Death.  And  it  is  significant 
to  notice  that  it  does  so  by  meeting  this  very 
demand  of  Science — it  abolishes  Imperfection. 

The  part  of  the  organism  which  begins  to  get 
out  of  correspondence  with  the  Organic  Environ- 
ment is  the  only  part  which  is  in  vital  correspond- 
ence with  it.  Though  a  fatal  disadvantage  to 
nhe  natural  man  to  be  thrown  out  of  correspond- 
ence with  this  Environment,  it  is  of  inestimable 
importance  to  the  spiritual  man.  For  so  long  as 
it  is  maintained  the  way  is  barred  for  a  further 
Evolution.  And  hence  the  condition  necessary 
for  the  further  Evolution  is  that  the  spiritual  be 
released  from  the  natural.  That  is  to  say,  the 
condition  of  the  further  Evolution  is  Death. 
Mors  janiia  Vitm,  therefore,  becomes  a  scientific 
formula.  Death,  being  the  final  shifting  of  all 
the  correspondences,  is  the  indispensable  factor  of 
the  higher  Life.  In  the  language  of  Science,  not 
less  than  of  Scripture,  "To  die  is  gain." 


180  ETEllXAL    LU'E. 

The  shifting  of  the  correspondences  is  done  I)}' 
Nature.  This  is  its  last  and  greatest  contribution 
to  mankind.  Over  the  mouth  of  the  grave  the 
perfect  and  the  imperfect  submit  to  their  final 
separation.  Each  goes  to  its  own — earth  to  earth, 
ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to  dust,  Spirit  to  Spirit. 
"The  dust  shall  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was; 
and  the  Spirit  shall  return  unto  God  who  gave 
it." 


ENVIBONMENT.  181 


ENVIEONMENT. 


<*WTien  T  talked  vr*th  an  ardent  missionary  and  pointed  out  to  Inn. 
thj«t  his  creed  found  no  support  in  my  experience,  iie  replied:  'It  i.- 
not  80  in  your  experience,  but  is  so  in  tlie  other  world.'  1  answeron: 
'Other  world  1  There  is  no  other  world.  God  is  one  and  omnipres- 
ent; here  or  nowhere  is  the  whole  fact.'  " — Emerson. 

"Ye  are  complete  in  Sim."— Paul. 

"Whatever  amount  of  power  an  organism  expends  in  any  shape  is 
the  correlate  and  equivalent  of  a  power  that  was  taken  into  it  from 
without." — Herbert  Spencer. 

Students  of  Biography  will  observe  that  in  all 
well-written  Lives  -attention  is  concentrated  for 
the  first  few  chapters  npon  two  points.  We  are 
first  introduced  to  the  family  to  which  the  subject 
of  memoir  belonged.  The  grandparents,  or  even 
the  more  remote  ancestors,  are  briefly  sketched 
and  their  chief  characteristics  brought  jirominently 
into  view.  Then  the  parents  themselves  are 
photographed  in  detail.  Their  appearance  and 
physique,  their  character,  their  disposition,  their 
mental  qualities,  are  set  before  us  in  a  critical 
analysis.  And  finally  we  are  asked  to  observe 
how  much  the  father  and  the  mother  respectively 
have  transmitted  of  their  peculiar  nature  to  their 
offspring.  How  faithfully  the  ancestral  lines 
have  met  iu  the  latest  product,  how  mysteriously 
the  joint  characteristics  of  body  and  mind  have 
blended,  and  how  unexpected  yet  how  entirely 
natural  a  recombination  is  the  result — these  points 
are  elaborated  with  cumulative  effect  until  we 
realize  at  last  how  little  we  are  dealing  with  an 
independent  unit,  how  much  with  a  survival  and 
reorganization  of  what  seemed  buried  in  the 
grave. 

In  the  second  place,  we  are  invited  to  consider 


182  ENVIRONilENT. 

more  external  influences — schools  and  school' 
masters,  neighbors,  home,  pecuniary  circum- 
stances, scenery,  and,  by-and-by,  the  religious 
and  jjolitieal  atmosphere  of  the  time.  These  also 
we  are  assured  have  played  their  jiart  in  making 
the  individual 4vliat  he  is.  We  can  estimate  these 
early  influences  in  any  particular  case  with  bu^: 
small  imagination  if  we  fail  to  see  how  powerfully 
they  also  have  moulded  mind  and  characte]-,  and 
in  what  subtle  ways  they  have. determined  the 
course  of  the  future  life. 

This  twofold  relation  of  the  individual,  first,  to 
his  parents,  and  second,  to  his  circumstances,  is 
not  peculiar  to  human  beings.  These  two  factors 
are  responsible  for  making  all  living  organisms 
what  they  are.  When  a  naturalist  attempts  to 
unfold  the  life-history  of  any  animal,  he  proceeds 
precisely  on  these  same  lines.  Biography  is  really 
a  branch  of  Natural  History;  and  the  biographer 
who  discusses  his  hero  as  the  resultant  of  these 
two  tendencies,  follows  the  scientific  method  as 
rigidly  as  Mr,  Darwin  in  studying  "Animals  and 
Plants  under  Domestication." 

Mn  Darwin,  following  AVeismann,  long  ago 
pointed  out  that  there  are  two  main  factors  in  all 
Evolution — the  nature  of  the  organism  and  the 
nature  of  the  conditions.  We  have  chosen  our 
illustration  from  the  highest  or  human  species  in 
order  to  define  the  meaning  of  these  factors  in 
the  clearest  way;  but  it  must  be  remembered 
that  the  development  of  man  under  these  directive 
influences  is  essentially  the  same  as  that  of  any 
other  organism  in  the  hands  of  Nature.  We  are 
dealing  therefore  with  universal  Law.  It  will 
still  further  serve  to  complete  the  conception  of 
the  general  principle  if  we  now  substitute  for  the 
casual  phrases  by  which  the  factors  have  been 
described  the  more  accurate  terminology  of 
Science.  Thus  what  Biography  describes  as 
parental  influences,  Biology  would  speak  of  as 
Heredity;  and  all  that  is  involved  in  the  second 
factor — the  action  of  external  circumstances  and 
surroundings — the     naturalist     would     include 


ENVIRONMENT.  183 

iiiitlor  the  single  term  Environm^ut.  These  two. 
Heredity  and  Environment,  are  the  master- 
influences  of  the  organic  world.  These  have  made 
all  of  us  what  we  are.  These  forces  are  still 
ceaselessly  playing  upon  all  our  lives.  And  he 
who  truly  understands  these  influences;  he  who 
has  decided  how  much  to  allow  to  each;  he  who 
can  regulate  new  forces  as  they  arise,  or  adjust 
them  to  the  old,  so  directing  them  as  at  one 
moment  to  make  them  cooperate,  at  another  to 
counteract  one  another,  nnderstands  the  rationale 
of  personal  development.  To  seize  continuously 
the  02)portunity  of  more  and  more  perfect  adjust- 
ment to  b(itter  and  higher  conditions,  to  balance 
some  inward  evil  with  some  purer  influence  acting 
from  without,  in  a  word  to  make  our  Environment 
at  the  same  time  that  it  is  making  us — these  are 
the  secrets  of  a  well-ordered  and  successful  life. 

In  the  spiritual  world,  also,  the  subtle  influences 
which  form  and  transform  the  soul  are  Heredity 
and  Environment.  And  here  especially  where  all 
is  invisible,  where  much  that  we  feel  to  be  real  is 
yet  so  ill-defined,  it  becomes  of  vital  practical  mo- 
ment to  clarify  the  atmosphere  as  far  as  possible 
with  conceptions  borrowed  from  the  natural  life. 
Few  things  are  less  understood  than  the  conditions 
of  the  spiritual  life.  The  distressing  incompe- 
tence of  which  most  of  us  are  conscious  in  trying  to 
work  out  our  spiritual  experience  is  due  perhaps 
less  to  the  diseased  will  which  we  commonly  blame 
for  it  than  to  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  right  con- 
ditions. It  does  not  occur  to  us  how  natural  the 
spiritual  is.  We  still  strive  for  some  strange  trans- 
cendent thing;  wo  seek  to  promote  life  by  methods 
as  unnatural  as  they  prove  unsuccessful;  and  only 
the  utter  incomprehensibility  of  the  whole  region 
prevents  us  seeing  fully— what  we  already  half- 
suspect — how  completely  we  are  missing  the  road. 
Living  in  the  spiritual  world,  nevertheless,  is  just 
as  simple  as  living  in  the  natural  world;  and  it  is 
the  same  kind  of  simplicity.  It  is  the  same  kind 
of  simplicity  for  it  is  the  same  kind  of  world — 
there  are  not  two  kinds  of  worlds.    The  conditions 


184  ENVIEONMENT. 

of  life  in  the  one  are  the  conditions  of  life  in  the 
other.  And  till  these  conditions  are  -  sensibly 
grasped,  as  the  conditions  of  all  life,  it  is  impossi- 
ble that  the  personal  effort  after  the  highest  life 
shonld  be  other  than  a  blind  struggle  carried  on 
in  fruitless  sorrow  and  humiliation. 

Of  these  two  universal  factors.  Heredity  and 
Environment,  it  is  unnecessary  to  balance  the 
relative  imj^ortance  here.  The  main  influence,  un- 
questionably, must  be  assigned  to  tbe  former.  In 
practice,  however,  and  for  an  obvious  reason,  we 
are  chiefly  concerned  with  the  latter.  What  He- 
redity has  to  do  for  us  is  determined  outside  our- 
selves. No  man  can  select  his  own  pai-ents.  But 
every  man  to  some  extent  can  choose  his  own  En- 
vironment. His  relation  to  it,  however  largely 
determined  by  Heredity  in  the  first  instance,  is 
always  open  to  alteration.  And  so  great  is  his 
control  over  Environment  and  so  radical  its  influ- 
ence over  him,  that  he  can  so  direct  it  as  either  to 
undo,  modify,  perpetuate  or  intensify  the  earlier 
hereditary  influence  within  certain  limits.  But 
the  aspects  of  Environment  which  we  have  now  to 
consider  do  not  involve  us  in  questions  of  snch 
complexity.  In  what  high  and  mystical  sense, 
also,  Heredity  ajjplies  to  the  spiritual  organism  we 
need  not  just  now  inquire.  In  the  simpler  rela- 
tions of  the  more  external  factor  we  shall  find  a 
large  and  fruitful  field  for  study. 

The  influence  of  EnviroJiment  may  be  investi- 
gated in  two  main  aspects.  First,  one  might  dis- 
cuss the  modern  and  very  interesting  question  as 
to  tlie  power  of  Environment  to  induce  what  is 
known  to  recent  science  as  Variation.  A  change 
in  the  surroundings  of  any  animal,  it  is  now  well- 
known,  can  so  react  upon  it  as  to  cause  it  to  change. 
By  the  attempt,  conscious  or  unconscious,  to  ad- 
just itself  to  the  new  conditions,  a  true  physiolog- 
ical change  is  gradually  wrought  within  the  organ- 
ism. Hunter,'  for  example,  in  a  classical  experi- 
ment, so  changed  the  Environment  of  a  sea-gull 
by  keeping  it  in  captivity  that  it  could  only  secure 
a  grain   diet.      The  effect   was    to   modify   the 


EXVIROXMENT.  185 

stomach  of  the  bij-d,  normally  adapted  to  a  fish 
diet,  until  in  time  it  came  to  resemble  in  struc- 
ture the  gizzard  of  an  ordinary  grain-feeder  such 
as  the  pigeon.  Holmgren  again  reversed  this 
experiment  by  feeding  pigeons  for  a  lengthened 
period  on  a  meat-diet,  with  the  result  that  the  giz- 
zard became  transformed  into  the  carnivorous 
stomach.  Mr.  Alfred  Russel  Wallace  mentions  the 
case  of  a  Brazilian  parrot  which  changes  its  color 
from  green  to  red  or  yellow  when  fed  on  the  fat  of 
certain  fishes.  Not  only  changes  of  food,  however, 
but  changes  of  climate  and  of  temperature, 
changes  in  surrounding  organisms,  in  the  case  of 
marine  animals  even  changes  of  pressure,  of  ocean 
currents,  of  light,  and  of  many  other  circumstan- 
ces, are  known  to  exert  a  powerful  modifying  in- 
fluence upon  living  organisms.  These  relations 
are  still  being  worked  out  in  many  directions,  but 
the  influence  of  Environment  as  a  prime  factor  in 
Variation  is  now  a  recognized  doctrine  of  science.  * 

Even  the  popular  mind  has  been  struck  with 
the  curious  adaptation  of  nearly  all  animals  to 
their  habitat,  for  example  in  the  matter  of  color. 
The  sandy  hue  of  the  sole  and  flounder,  the  white 
of  the  polar  bear  with  its  suggestion  of  Arctic 
snows,  the  stripes  of  the  Bengal  tiger — as  if  the 
actual  reeds  of  its  native  jungle  had  nature-printed 
themselves  on  its  hide ; — these,  and  a  hundred 
others  which  will  occur  to  every  one,  are  marked 
instances  of  adaptation  to  Environment,  induced 
by  Natural  Selection  or  otherwise,  for  the  purpose, 
obviously  in  these  cases  at  least,  of  protection. 

To  continue  the  investigation  of  the  modifying 
action  of  Environment  into  the  moral  and  spiritual 
spheres,  would  be  to  open  a  fascinating  and  sugges- 
tive inquiry.  One  might  show  how  the  moral  man 
is  acted  upon  and  changed  continuously  by  the 
influences,  secret  and  open,  of  his  surroiindings,  by 
the  tone  of  society,  by  the  company  he  keeps,  by 


*  V:de  Karl  Samper''!?  "Tlie  Natural  Conrlitions  of  Existenoe  ms 
they  affect,  Animnl  Life;"  Wallace's  "Tropical  Nature;''"  Weisn  ^;i  - 
"Studies  in  the  Theory  of  Descent;"  Darwin's  "Animals  and  Pliiuie 
^der  Domestication." 


186  ENVIRONMENT. 

liis  occupation,  by  the  books  he  reads,  by  Nature, 
by  uU,  in  short,  that  constitutes  tlie  habitual 
atmosphere  of  his  thougiits  and  the  little  world  of 
his  daily  choice.  Or  one  might  go  deeper  still  and 
prove  how  the  spiritual  life  also  is  modified  from 
outside  sources  —its  health  or  disease,  its  growth  or 
decay,  all  its  changes  for  better  or  for  worse  being 
iletermined  by  the  varying  and  successive  circum- 
stances in  which  the  religious  habits  are  cultivated. 
But  we  must  rather  transfer  our  attention  to  a  sec- 
ond aspect  of  Environment,  not  perhaps  so  fascin- 
ating but  yet  more  important. 

So  much  of  the  modern  discussion  of  Environ- 
ment revolves  round  the  mere  question  of  Vai'ia- 
tion  that  one  is  apt  to  overlook  a  previous  question. 
Environment  as  a  factor  in  life  is  not  exhausted 
when  we  have  realized  its  modifying  influence. 
Its  significance  is  scarcely  touched.  The  great 
function  of  Environment  is  not  to  modify  but  to 
sustain.  In  sustaining  life,  it  is  true,  it  modifies. 
But  the  latter  influence  is  incidental,  the  former 
essential.  Our  Environment  is  that  in  v\diich  we 
live  and  move  and  have  our  being.  Without  it  we 
should  neither  live  or  move  nor  have  any  being. 
In  the  organism  lies  the  principle  of  life;  in  the 
Environuient  are  the  conditions  of  life.  Without 
the  fulfillment  of  these  conditions,  which  are  whol- 
ly supplied  by  Environment,  there  can  be  no  life. 
An  organism  in  itself  is  but  a  part;  Nature  is  its 
complement.  Alone,  cut  off  from  its  surroundings, 
it  is  not.  Alone,  cut  off  from  my  surroundings, 
I  am  not — physically  I  am  not.  I  am,  only  as  1 
am  sustained.  I  continue  only  as  I  receive.  My 
Environment  may  modify  me,  but  it  has  first  to 
k«ep  me.  And  all  the  time  its  secret  transforming 
power  is  indirectly  moulding  body  and  mind  it  is 
directly  active  in  the  more  oj^en  task  of  minister- 
ing to  my  myriad  wants  and  from  hour  to  hour 
sustaining  life  itself. 

To  understand  the  sustaining  influence  of  En- 
vironment in  the  animal  world,  oie  has  only  to 
recall  what  the  biologist  terms  the  extrinsic  or 
subsidiary  conditions  of  vitality.      Every    living 


EXVIKONMEXT.  187 

filing  normtilly  requires  for  its  development  an 
Environment  containing  air,  light,  Leat,  and 
water.  In  addition  to  these,  if  vitality  is  to  be 
prolonged  for  any  length  of  time,  and  if  it  is  to  be 
accompanied  with  growth  and  the  expenditure  of 
energy,  there  must  be  a  constant  supply  of  food. 
When  we  simply  remember  how  iudis])ensable  food 
is  to  growth  and  work,  and  when  we  further  bear 
in  mind  that  the  food-supply  is  solely  contributed 
by  the  Environment,  we  shall  realize  at  once  the 
meaning  and  the  truth  of  the  proposition  that 
without  Environment  there  can  be  no  life.  Sev- 
enty per  cent,  at  least  of  the  human  body  is  made 
of  pure  water,  the  rest  of  gases  and  earth.  These 
have  all  come  from  Environment.  Through  the 
secret  pores  of  the  skin  two  pounds  of  water  are 
exhaled  daily  from  every  healthy  adult.  The  sup- 
ply is  kept  up  by  Environment.  The  Environ- 
ment is  really  an  unajipropriated  part  of  ourselves. 
Definite  portions  are  continuously  abstracted  from 
it  and  added  to  the  organism.  And  so  long  as 
the  organism  continues  to  grow,  act,  think,  speak, 
work,  or  perform  any  other  function  demanding 
a  supply  of  energy,  there  is  a  constant,  simultane- 
ous, and  proportionate  drain  upon  its  surround- 

This  is  a  truth  in  the  physical,  and  therefore  in 
the  spiritual,  world  of  so  great  importance  that  we 
shall  not  mis-spend  time  if  we  follow  it,  for  fur- 
ther confirmation,  into  another  dej^artment  of  na- 
ture. Its  significance  in  Biology  is  self-evident; 
let  us  appeal  to  Chemistry. 

When  a  piece  of  coal  is  thrown  on  the  fire,  we 
say  that  it  will  radiate  into  the  room  a  certain 
quantity  of  heat.  This  heat,  in  the  popular  con- 
ception, is  supposed  to  reside  -in  the  coal  and  to  be 
set  free  during  tlie  process  of  combustion.  In 
reality,  however,  the  heat  energy  is  only  in  part 
contained  in  the  coal.  It  is  contained  just  as  truly 
in  the  coal's  Environment — that  is  to  say,  in  the 
oxygen  of  the  air.  The  atoms  of  carbon  which 
compose  the  coal  have  a  powei'ful  affinity  for 
the  oxygen  of  the  air.     Whenever  they  are  made  to 


188  E]SrVlRONME]SrT. 

approach  within  a  certain  distance  of  one  another, 
by  the  initial  application  of  heat,  they  rush  to- 
getlier  with  inconceivable  velocity.  The  heat 
which  appears  at  this  moment,  comes  neither  from 
the  carbon  alone,  nor  from  the  oxygen  alone. 
These  two  substances  are  really  inconsumable,  and 
continue  to  exist,  after  they  meet  in  a  combined 
form,  as  carbonic  acid  gas.  The  heat  is  due  to  the 
energy  develoi^ed  by  the  chemical  embrace,  the 
precipitate  rushing  together  of  the  molecules  of 
carbon  and  the  molecules  of  oxygen.  It  comeH, 
therefore,  partly  from  the  coal  and  partly  from  the 
Environment.  Coal  alone  never  could  produce 
heat,  neither  alone  could  Environment.  The  two 
are  mutually  dependent.  And  although  in  nearly 
all  the  arts  we  credit  everything  to  the  substance 
which  we  can  weigh  and  handle,  it  is  certain  that 
in  the  most  cases  the  larger  debt  is  due  to  an  in- 
visible Environment. 

This  is  one  of  those  great  commonplaces  which 
slip  out  of  general  reckoning  by  reason  of  their 
very  largeness  and  simplicity.  How  profound, 
nevertheless,  are  the  issues  which  hang  on  this 
elementary  truth,  we  shall  discover  immediately. 
Nothing  in  this  age  is  more  needed  in  every  de- 
partment of  knowledge  than  the  rejuvenescence  of 
the  commonplace.  In  the  spiritual  world  espe- 
cially, he  will  be  wise  who  courts  acquaintance  with 
the  most  ordinary  and  transparent  facts  of  Nature; 
and  in  laying  the  foundations  for  a  religious  life  he 
wall  make  no  unworthy  beginning  who  carries 
with  him  an  impressive  sense  of  so  obvious  a  truth 
as  that  without  Environment  there  can  be  no  life. 

For  what  does  this  amount  to  in  the  spiritual 
world?  Is  it  not  merely  the  scientific  re-statement 
of  the  reiterated  aphorism  of  Christ.  "Without 
Me  ye  can  do  nothing?"  There  is  in  the  spiritual 
organism  a  principle  of  life;  but  that  is  not  self- 
existent.  It  requires  a  second  factor,  a  something 
in  which  to  live  and  move  and  have  its  being,  an 
Environment.  Without  this  it  cannot  live  or  move 
or  have  any  being.  Without  Environment  the 
soul  is  as  the  carbon  without  the  oxygen,  as  the 


EXVIROXMENT.  189 

fish  without  the  water,  as  the  animal  frame  with 
out  the  extrinsic  conditions  of  vitality. 

And  what  is  the  spiritual  Environment?  It  is 
God.  Without  this,  tlierefore,  there  is  no  life,  no 
thought,  no  energy,  nothing — ''M'ithout  Me  ye 
can  do  nothing." 

The  cardinal  error  in  the  religious  life  is  to  at- 
tempt to  live  without  an  Environment.  Spiritual 
experience  occupies  itself,  not  too  much,  but  too 
exclusively,  with  one  factor— the  soul.  We  delight 
in  dissecting  this  much  tortured  faculty,  from 
time  to  time,  in  search  of  a  certain  sometliing 
Avhicli  we  call  our  faith — forgetting  that  faith  is 
but  an  attitude,  an  empty  hand  for  grasping  an 
environing  Presence.  And  when  we  feel  the  need 
of  a  power  by  which  to  overcome  the  world,  how 
often  do  we  not  seek  to  generate  it  within  our- 
selves by  some  forced  process,  some  fresh  girding 
of  the  will,  some  strained  activity  which  only 
leaves  the  soul  in  further  exhaustion?  To  exam- 
ine ourselves  is  good;  but  useless  unless  we  also 
examine  Environment.  To  bewail  our  weakness 
is  right,  but  not  remedial.  The  cause  must  be  in- 
vestigated as  well  as  the  result.  And  yet,  because 
we  never  see  the  other  half  of  the  problem,  our 
failures  even  fail  to  instruct  us.  After  each  new 
collapse  we  begin  our  life  anew,  but  on  the  old 
conditions;  and  the  attempt  ends  as  usual  in  the 
repetition — in  the  circumstances  the  inevitable 
repetition — of  the  old  disaster.  Not  that  at  times 
we  do  not  obtain  glimpses  of  the  true  state  of  the 
case.  After  seasons  of  much  discouragement,  with 
the  sore  sense  upon  us  of  our  abject  feebleness, 
we  do  confer  with  ourselves,  insisting  for  the 
thousandth  time,  ^'  My  soul,  wait  thou  only  upon 
God."  B^it  the  lesson  is  soon  forgotten.  The 
strength  supplied  we  speedily  credit  to  our  own 
achievement;  and  even  the  temporary  success  is 
mistaken  for  a  symptom  of  improved  inward  vital- 
ity. Once  more  we  become  self-existent.  Once 
more  we  go  on  living  without  an  Environment. 
And  once  more,  after  days  of  wasting  without  re- 
pairing, of  spending  without  replenishing,  we  be- 


190  EK^VIKONMENT. 

gin  Lo  2)erisli  witli  liimger^  only  returning  to  God 
again,  as  a  last  resort,  when  we  have  readied  star- 
vation point. 

Now  why  do  we  do  this?  Why  do  we  seek  to 
breathe  without  an  atmosphere,  to  drink  without 
a  well?  Why  this  unscientific  attempt  to  sustain 
life  for  weeks  at  a  time  without  an  Environment? 
It  is  because  we  have  never  truly  seen  the  necessity 
for  an  Environment.  We  have  not  been  working 
with  a  principle.  We  are  told  to  'Svait  only 
upon  (lod/'  but  we  do  not  know  why.  It  has 
never  been  as  clear  to  us  that  without  God  the 
soul  will  die  as  that  without  food  the  body  will 
perish.  In  short,  we  have  never  comj^rehended 
the  doctrine  of  the  Persistence  of  Force.  Instead 
of  being  content  to  transform  energy  we  have 
tried  to  create  it. 

The  Law  of  ISTature  here  is  as  clear  as  Science 
can  make  it.  In  the  words  of  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer,  "It  is  a  corollary  from  that  primordial 
truth  which,  as  we  have  seen,  underlies  all  other 
truths,  that  whatever  amount  of  power  an  organ- 
ism expends  in  any  shape  is  the  correlate  and 
equivalent  of  a  power  that  was  taken  into  it  from 
without."*  We  are  dealing  here  with  a  simple 
question  of  dynamics.  Whatever  energy  the  soul 
expends  must  first  be  "taken  into  it  from  with- 
out." We  are  not  Creators,  but  creatures;  God 
is  our  refuge  and  strength.  Communion  with 
God,  therefore,  is  a  scientific  necessity;  and 
nothing  will  more  help  the  defeated  spirit  which 
is  struggling  in  the  wreck  of  its  religious  life  than 
a  common-sense  hold  of  this  plain  biological 
principle  that  without  Environment  he  can  do 
nothing.  What  he  wants  is  not  an  occasional 
view,  but  a  principle — a  basal  principle  like  this, 
broad  as  the  universe,  solid  as  nature.  In  the 
natural  world  we  act  upon  this  law  unconsciously. 
We  absorb  heat,  breathe  air,  draw  on  Environment 
all  but  automatically  for  meat  and  drink,  for 
the  nourishment  of  the  senses,  for  mental  stimu- 

*  "Principles  of  Biologj',"  p.  57. 


ENVIRONMENT.  191 

lus.  for  all  that,  penetrating  us  from  without,  can 
prolong,  enrich,  and  elevate  life.  But  in  the 
spiritual  world  we  have  all  this  to  learn.  We  are 
new  creatures,  and  even  the  bare  living  has  to  be 
acquired. 

Now  the  great  point  in  learning  to  live  is  to 
live  naturally.  As  closely  as  possible  we  must 
follow  the  broad,  clear  lines  of  the  natural  life. 
And  there  are  three  things  especially  which  it  is 
necessary  for  us  to  keep  continually  in  view. 
The  first  is  that  the  organism  contains  within 
itself  only  one-half  of  what  is  essential  to  life; 
the  second  is  that  the  other  half  is  contained  in 
the  Environment;  the  third,  that  the  condition 
of  receptivity  is  simple  union  between  the  organism 
and  the  Environment. 

Translated  into  the  language  of  religion  these 
propositions  yield,  and  place  on  a  scientific  basis, 
truths  of  immense  practical  interest.  To  say, 
first,  that  the  organism  contains  within  itself 
only  one-half  of  what  is  essential  to  life,  is  to 
repeat  the  evangelical  confession,  so  worn  and  yet 
so  true  to  universal  experience,  of  the  utter 
helplessness  of  man.  Who  has  not  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  is  but  a  part,  a  fraction  of 
some  larger  whole?  Who  does  not  miss  at  every 
turn  of  his  life  an  absent  God?  That  nianis  but 
a  part,  he  knows,  for  there  is  room  in  him  for 
more.  That  God  is  the  other  part,  he  feels, 
because  at  times  He  satisfies  his  need.  Who  does 
not  tremble  often  under  that  sicklier  symptom  of 
his  incompleteness,  his  want  of  spiritual  energy, 
his  helplessness  with  sin?  But  now  he  under- 
stands both — the  void  in  his  life,  the  powerless- 
aess  of  his  will.  He  understands  tliat,  like  all 
other  energy,  spiritual  power  is  contained  in 
Environment.  He  finds  here  at  last  the  true  root 
of  all  human  frailty,  emptiness,  nothingness,  sin. 
This  is  why  "without  Me  ye  can  do  nothing." 
Powerlessness  is  the  normal  state  not  only  of  this 
but  of  every  organism — of  every  organism  apart 
from  its  Environment. 

The  entire  dependence  of  the  soul  upon  God  is 


192  ENVIRONMENT. 

not  au  exceptional  mystery,  nor  is  man's  helpless- 
ness an  arbitrary  and  nuprecedeiited  phenomenon. 
It  is  the  law  of  all  Nature.  The  spiritual  man  is 
not  taxed  beyond  the  natural.  He  is  not  pur- 
posely handicapped  by  singular  limitations  or 
unusual  incapacities.  God  has  not  designedly 
made  the  religious  life  as  hard  as  possible.  The 
arrangements  for  the  spiritual  life  are  the  same 
as  for  the  natural  life.  When  in  their  hours  of 
unbelief  men  challenge  their  Creator  for  placing 
the  obstacle  of  human  frailty  in  the  way  of  their 
highest  development,  their  protest  is  against  the 
order  of  nature.  They  object  to  the  sun  for  being 
the  source  of  energy  and  not  the  engine,  to  the 
carbonic  acid  being  in  the  air  and  not  in  the 
plant.  They  would  equip  each  organism  with  a 
personal  atmosphere,  each  brain  with  a  private 
store  of  energy;  they  would  grow  corn  in  the 
interior  of  the  body,  and  make  bread  by  a  special 
apparatus  in  the  digestive  organs.  They  must, 
in  short,  have  the  creature  transformed  into  a 
Creator.  The  organism  must  either  depend  on 
his  environment,  or  be  self-sufficient.  But  who 
will  not  rather  approve  the  arrangement  by  which 
man  in  his  creatural  life  may  have  unbroken 
access  to  an  Infinite  Power?  What  soul  will  seek 
to  remain  self-luminous  when  it  knows  that  "The 
Lord  God  is  a  Suiif  Who  will  not  willingly 
exchange  his  shallow  vessel  for  Christ's  well  of 
living  water?  Even  if  the  organism,  launched 
into  being  like  a  ship  putting  out  to  sea,  possessed 
a  full  equipment,  its  little  store  must  soon  come 
to  an  end.  But  in  contact  with  a  large  and 
bounteous  Environment  ics  supply  is  limitless. 
In  every  direction  its  resources  are  infinite. 

There  is  a  modern  school  which  protests  against 
the  doctrine  of  man's  inability  as  the  heartless 
fiction  of  a  past  theology.  While  some  forms  of 
that  dogma,  to  any  one  who  knows  man,  are 
incapable  of  defence,  there  are  others  which,  to 
any  one  who  knows  Nature,  are  incapable  of 
denial.  Those  who  oppose  it,  in  their  jealousy 
tor  humanity,  credit  the  organism  with  the  prop- 


ENVIRONMENT.  19b 

erties  of  Environment.  All  true  theology,  on 
the  other  hand,  has  remained  loyal  to  at  least  the 
voot-idea  in  this  truth.  The  New  Testament  is 
nowhere  more  impressive  than  where  it  insists  on 
the  fact  of  man's  dependence.  In  its  view  the 
first  step  in  religion  is  for  man  to  feel  his  helpless- 
ness. Christ's  first  beatitude  is  to  the  poor  in 
spirit.  The  condition  of  entrance  into  the  spirit- 
ual kingdom  is  to  possess  the  child-spirit — that 
state  of  mind  combining  at  once  the  profoundest 
helplessness  with  the  most  artless  feeling  of 
dependence.  Substantially  the  same  idea  under- 
lies the  countless  passages  in  which  Christ  affirms 
that  He  has  not  come  to  call  the  righteous,  but 
sinners  to  repentance.  And  in  that  farewell 
discourse  into  which  the  Great  Teacher  poured 
the  most  burning  convictions  of  His  life,  He  gives 
to  this  doctrine  an  ever  increasing  emphasis.  No 
words  could  be  more  solemn  or  arresting  than  the 
sentence  in  the  last  great  allegory  devoted  to_  this 
theme,  ''As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself 
except  it  abide  in  the  vine,  no  more  can  ye  except 
ye  abide  in  Me."  The  word  here,  it  will  be 
observed  again,  is  cannot.  It  is  the  imperative 
of  natural  law.  Fruit-bearing  without  Christ  is 
not  an  improbability,  but  an  impossibility.  As 
well  expect  the  natural  fruit  to  flourish  without 
air  and  heat,  without  soil  and  sunshine.  How 
thoroughly  also  Paul  grasped  this  truth  is  appar- 
ent from  a  hundred  pregnant  passages  in  which 
he  echoes  his  Master's  teaching.  To  him  life  was 
hid  with  Christ  in  God.  And  that  he  embraced 
this  not  as  a  theory  but  as  an  experimental  truth 
we  gather  from  his  constant  confession,  "When 
I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong." 

This  leads  by  a  natural  transition  to  the  second 
of  the  three  points  we  are  seeking  to  illustrate. 
We  have  seen  that  the  organism  contains  within 
itself  only  one  half  of  what  is  essential  to  life.  We 
have  next  to  observe,  as  the  complement  of  this, 
how  the  second  half  is  contained  in  the  Environ- 
ment. 

One    result    of    the   due  apprehension   of   oar 


x94  ENVIRONMENT. 

personal  helplessness  will  be  that  we  shall  no 
longer  waste  our  time  over  the  impossible  task  cf 
manufactiiring  energy  for  ourselves.  Our  science 
will  bring  to  an  abru2)t  end  the  long  series  of 
severe  experiments  in  which  we  have  indulged  in 
the  hope  of  finding  a  perpetual  motion.  And 
having  decided  upon  this  once  for  all,  our  first 
step  in  seeking  a  more  satisfactory  state  of  things 
must  be  to  find  a  new  source  of  energy.  Follow- 
ing Xature,  only  one  course  is  open  to  us.  We 
must  refer  to  Environment.  The  natural  life 
owes  all  to  Environment,  so  must  the  spiritual. 
Now  the  Environment  of  the  spiritual  life  is  God. 
As  Nature  therefore  forms  the  complement  of 
the  natural  life,  God  is  the  complement  of  the 
spiritual. 

The  proof  of  this?  That  Nature  is  not  more 
natural  to  my  body  than  God  is  to  my  soul. 
Every  animal  and  plant  has  its  own  Environment. 
And  the  further  one  inquires  into  the  relations  of 
the  one  to  the  other,  the  more  one  sees  the  mar- 
velous intricacy  and  beauty  of  the  adjustments. 
These  wonderful  adaptations  of  each  organism  to 
its  surroundings — of  the  fish  to  the  water,  of  the 
eagle  to  the  air,  of  the  insect  to  the  forest-bed; 
and  of  each  part  of  every  organism — the  fish's 
swim-bladder,  the  eagle's  eye,  the  insect's  breath- 
ing tubes — which  the  old  argument  from  design 
brought  home  to  us  with  such  enthusiasm,  inspire 
us  still  with  a  sense  of  the  boundless  resources 
and  skill  of  Nature  in  perfecting  her  arrangements 
for  each  single  life.  Down  to  the  last  detail  the 
world  is  made  for  what  is  in  it;  and  by  whatever 
process  things  are  as  they  are,  all  organisms  find 
in  surrounding  Nature  the  ample  complement  of 
themselves.  Man,  too,  finds  in  his  Environment 
provision  for  all  capacities,  scope  for  the  exercise 
of  every  faculty,  room  for  the  indulgence  of  each 
appetite,  a  just  supply  for  every  want.  So  the 
spiritual  man  at  the  apex  of  the  pyramid  of  life 
finds  in  the  vaster  range  of  his  Environment  a 
provision,  as  much  higher,  it  is  true,  as  he  is 
higher,  but  as  delicately  adjusted  to  his  varying 


ENVIKOXMENT.  l'J5 

needs.  And  all  this  is  supplied  to  him  just  as 
the  lower  organisms  are  ministered  to  by  the 
lower  environment,  in  the  same  simple  ways,  in 
the  same  constant  sequence,  as  appro2)riately  and 
as  lavishly.  AVe  fail  to  praise  the  ceaseless 
ministry  of  the  great  inanimate  world  around  us 
only  because  its  kindness  is  unobtrusive.  Nature 
is  always  noiseless.  All  her  greatest  gifts  are 
given  in  secret.  And  we  forget  how  truly  every 
good  and  perfect  gift  comes  from  without,  and 
from  above,  because  no  pause  in  her  changeless 
beneficence  teaches  us  the  sad  lesson  of  depriva- 
tion. 

It  is  not  a  strange  thing,  then,  for  the  soul  to 
find  its  life  in  God.  This  is  its  native  air.  God 
as  the  Environment  of  the  soul  has  been  from 
the  remotest  age  the  doctrine  of  all  the  deepest 
thinkers  in  religion.  How  profoundly  Hebrew 
poetry  is  saturated  with  this  high  thought  will 
appear  when  we  try  to  conceive  of  it  with  this  left 
out.  True  poetry  is  only  science  in  another  form. 
And  long  before  it  was  possible  for  religion  to 
give  scientific  expression  to  its  greatest  truths, 
men  of  insight  uttered  themselves  in  psalms 
which  could  not  have  been  truer  to  Nature  had 
the  most  modern  light  controlled  the  inspiration. 
"As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water-brooks,  so 
panteth  my  soul  after  Thee,  0  God."  What  fine 
sense  of  the  analogy  of  the  natural  and  the 
spiritual  does  not  underlie  these  words.  As  the 
hart  after  its  Environment,  so  man  after  his;  as 
the  water-brooks  are  fitly  designed  to  meet  the 
natural  wants,  so  fitly  does  God  implement  the 
spiritual  need  of  man.  It  will  be  noticed  that  in 
the  Hebrew  poets  the  longing  for  God  never 
strikes  one  as  morbid,  or  unnatural  to  the  men 
who  utter  it.  It  is  as  natural  to  them  to  long  for 
God  as  for  the  swallow  to  seek  her  nest. 
Throughout  all  their  images  no  suspicion  rises 
within  us  that  they  are  exaggerating.  We  feel 
how  truly  they  are  reading  themselves,  their 
deepest  selves.  No  false  note  occurs  in  all  their 
aspiration.     There  is  no  weariness  even  in  their 


196  ENVIROXMENT. 

ceaseless  sighing,  excejjt  the  lover's  weariness  for 
the  absent — if  they  would  fly  away,  it  is  only  to 
be  at  rest.  Men  who  have  no  soul  can  only 
wonder  at  this.  Men  who  have  a  soul,  but  with 
little  faith,  can  only  envy  it.  How  joyous  a 
thing  it  was  to  the  Hebrews  to  seek  their  God! 
How  artlessly  they  call  upon  Him  to  entertain 
them  in  His  pavilion,  to  cover  them  with  His 
feathers,  to  hide  them  in  His  secret  place,  to  hold 
them  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand  or  stretch  around 
them  the  everlasting  arms!  These  men  were  true 
children  of  Nature.  As  the  humming-bird  among 
its  own  palm-trees,  as  the  ephemera  in  the 
sunshine  of  a  summer  evening,  so  they  lived  their 
joyous  lives.  And  even  the  full  share  of  the 
sadder  experience  of  life  which  came  to  all  of 
them  but  drove  them  the  further  into  the  Secret 
Place,  and  led  them  with  more  consecration  to 
make,  as  they  expressed  it,  "the  Lord  their 
portion."  All  that  has  been  said  since  from 
Marcus  Aurelius  to  Swedenborg,  from  Augustine 
to  Schleiermacher  of  a  besetting  God  as  the  final 
complement  of  humanity  is  but  a  repetition  of 
the  Hebrew  poets'  faitli.  And  even  the  New 
Testament  has  nothing  higher  to  offer  man  than 
this.  The  psalmist's  "God  is  our  refuge  and 
strength"  is  only  the  earlier  form,  less  defined, 
less  practicable,  but  not  less  noble,  of  Christ's 
"Come  unto  Me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 

There  is  a  brief  phrase  of  Paul's  which  defines 
the  relation  with  almost  scientific  accuracy — 
"Ye  are  complete  in  Him."  In  this  is  summed 
up  the  whole  of  the  Bible  anthropology — the 
completeness  of  man  in  God,  his  incompleteness 
apart  from  God. 

If  it  be  asked,  In  what  is  man  incomplete,  or. 
In  what  does  God  complete  him?  the  question 
is  a  wide  one.  But  it  may  serve  to  show  at  least 
the  direction  in  which  the  Divine  Environment 
forms  the  complement  of  human  life  if  we  ask 
ourselves  once  more  what  it  is  in  life  that  needs 
complementing.  And  to  this  question  we  receive 
the'  significant  answer   that    it   is  in  the  higher 


EN"YIKOXMEXT.  197 

departments  alone,  or  mainly,  that  the  incom- 
pleteness of  our  life  appears.  The  lower  depart- 
ments of  "Nature  are  already  complete  enough. 
The  world  itself  is  about  as  good  a  world  as  might 
be.  It  has  been  long  in  the  making,  its  furniture 
is  all  in,  its  laws  are  in  perfect  working  order; 
and  although  wise  men  at  various  times  have 
suggested  improvements,  there  is  on  the  whole  a 
tolerably  unanimous  vote  of  confidence  in  things 
as  they  exist.  The  Divine  Environment  has  little 
more  to  do  for  this  planet  so  far  as  we  can  see, 
and  so  far  as  the  existing  generation  is  concerned. 
Then  the  lower  organic  life  of  the  world  is  also 
so  far  complete.  God,  through  Evolution  or 
otherwise,  may  still  have  finishing  touches  to 
add  here  and  there,  but  already  it  is  "all  very 
good."  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  anything  better 
of  its  kind  than  a  lily  or  a  cedar,  an  ant  or  an 
ant-eater.  These  organisms,  so  far  as  we  can 
judge,  lack  nothing.  It  might  be  said  of  them, 
"they  are  complete  in  Nature."  Of  man  also,  of 
man  the  animal,  it  may  be  affirmed  that  his 
Environment  satisfies  him.  He  has  food  and 
drink,  and  good  food  and  good  drink.  And 
there  is  in  him  no  purely  animal  want  which  is 
not  really  provided  for,  and  that  apparently  in 
the  hapj^iest  possible  way. 

But  the  moment  we  pass  beyond  the  mere 
animal  life  we  begin  to  come  upon  an  incomplete- 
ness. The  symptoms  at  first  are  slight,  and 
betray  themselves  only  by  an  unexplained  restless- 
ness or  a  dull  sense  of  want.  Then  the  feverish- 
ness  increases,  becomes  more  defined,  and  passes 
slowly  into  abiding  pain.  To  some  come  darker 
moments  when  the  unrest  deepens  into  a  mental 
agony  of  which  all  the  other  woes  of  earth  are 
mockeries — moments  when  the  forsaken  soul  can 
only  cry  in  terror  for  the  Living  God.  Up  to  a 
point  the  natural  Environment  supplies  man's 
wants,  beyond  that  it  only  derides  him.  How 
much  in  man  lies  beyond  that  point?  Very  much 
— almost  all,  all  that  makes  man  man.  The  first 
suspifion  of  the  terrible  truth — so  for  the  time  let 


198  E2TYIK0NMENT. 

US  call  it — wakens  with  tlie  dawn  of  the  intellect- 
ual life.  It  is  a  solemn  moment  when  the  slow- 
moving  mind  reaches  at  length  the  rerge  of  its 
mental  horizon,  and,  looking  over,  sees  nothing 
more.  Its  straining  makes  the  abyss  but  more 
profound.  Its  cry  comes  back  Avithout  an  echo. 
Where  is  the  Environment  to  complete  this 
rational  soul?  Men  either  find  one — One, — or 
spend  the  rest  of  their  days  in  trying  to  shut  their 
eyes.  The  alternatives  of  the  intellectual  life  are 
Christianity  or  Agnosticism.  The  Agnostic  is 
right  when  he  trumpets  his  incompleteness.  He 
who  is  not  complete  in  Him  must  be  forever 
incomplete.  Still  more  grave  becomes  man's 
case  when  he  begins  further  to  explore  his  moral 
and  social  nature.  The  problems  of  the  heart 
and  conscience  are  infinitely  more  jDcrplexing  than 
those  of  the  intellect.  Has  love  no  future?  Has 
right  no  triumph?  Is  the  unfinished  self  to 
remain  unfinished?  Again,  the  alternatives  are 
two,  Christianity  or  Pessimism.  But  when  we 
ascend  the  further  height  of  the  religious  nature, 
the  crisis  comes.  There,  without  Environment, 
the  darkness  is  unutterable.  So  maddening  now 
becomes  the  mystery  that  men  are  compelled  to 
construct  an  Environment  for  themselves.  No 
Environment  here  is  unthinkable.  An  altar  of 
some  sort  men  must  have — God,  or  Nature,  or 
Law.  But  the  anguish  of  Atheism  is  only  a 
negative  proof  of  man's  incompleteness.  A 
witness  more  overwhelming  is  the  prayer  of  the 
Christian.  What  a  very  strange  thing,  is  it  not, 
for  man  to  pray?  It  is  the  symbol  at  once  of  his 
littleness  and  of  his  greatness.  Here  the  sense  of 
imperfection,  controlled  and  silenced  in  the 
narrower  reaches  of  his  being,  becomes  audible. 
Now  he  must  utter  himself.  The  sense  of  need 
is  so  real,  and  the  sense  of  Environment,  that  he 
calls  out  to  it,  addressing  it  articulately,  and 
imploring  it  to  satisfy  his  need.  Surely  there  is 
nothing  more  touching  in  Nature  than  this? 
Man  could  never  so  expose  himself,  so  break 
through  all  constraint,  except  from  a  dire  neces- 


ENVIRONMENT.  199 

sity.  It  is  the  suddenness  and  unpremeditated- 
ness  of  Pra3^er  that  gives  it  a  unique  value  as  an 
apologetic. 

Man  has  three  questions  to  put  to  his  Environ- 
ment, three  symbols  of  his  incompleteness.  They 
come  from  three  different  centers  of  his  being. 
The  first  is  the  question  of  the  intellect.  What  is 
Truth?  The  natural  Environment  answers, 
"Increase  of  Knowledge  increaseth  Sorrow,"  and 
"much  study  is  a  AVeariness."  Christ  replies, 
"Learn  of  Me,  and  ye  shall  find  Eest."  Contrast 
the  world's  word  "Weariness"  with  Christ's  word 
"Rest."  No  other  teacher  since  the  world  began 
has  ever  associated  "learn"  with  Rest."  Learn 
of  me,  says  the  philosopher,  and  you  shall  find 
Restlessness.  Learn  of  Me,  says  Christ,  and  ye 
shall  find  Rest.  Thought,  which  the  godless 
man  has  cursed,  that  eternally  starved  yet  ever 
living  specter,  finds  at  last  its  imperishable  glory; 
Thought  is  complete  in  Him.  The  second  ques- 
tion is  sent  up  from  the  moral  nature,  Who  will 
show  us  any  good?  And  again  we  have  a  contrast: 
the  world's  verdict,  "There  is  none  that  doeth 
good,  no,  not  one;"  and  Christ's,  "There  is  none 
good  but  God  only."  And  finally,  there  is  the 
lonely  cry  of  the  spirit,  most  pathetic  and  most 
deep  of  all.  Where  is  he  whom  my  soul  seeketh? 
And  the  yearning  is  met  as  before,  "I  looked  on 
my  right  hand,  and  beheld,  but  there  was  no  man 
that  would  know  me;  refuge  failed  me;  no  man 
cared  for  my  soul.  I  cried  unto  Thee,  0  Lord: 
I  said.  Thou  are  my  refuge  and  my  portion  in  the 
land  of  the  living."* 

Are  these  the  directions  in  which  men  in  these 
days  are  seeking  to  complete  their  lives?  The 
completion  of  Life  is  just  now  a  supreme  question. 
It  is  important  to  observe  how  it  is  being  answered. 
If  we  ask  Science  or  Philosophy  they  will  refer  us 
to  Evolution.  The  struggle  for  Life,  they 
assure  us,  is  steadily  eliminating  imperfect  forms, 
and  as  the  fittest  continue  to  survive  we   shall 

*  Pb.  cxlii.  4.  5 


200  ENVIRONMENT. 

have  a  gradual  perfecting  of  beifig.  That  is  to 
say,  that  completeness  is  to  be  sought  for  in  the 
organism — we  are  to  be  complete  in  Nature  and 
in  ourselves.  To  Evolution,  certainh',  all  men 
will  look  for  a  further  perfecting  of  Life.  But 
it  must  be  an  Evolution  which  includes  all  the 
factors.  Civilization,  it  may  be  i^aid,  v»'ill  deal 
with  the  second  factor.  It  will  improve  the 
Environment  step  by  by  step  as  it  improves  the 
organism,  or  the  organism  as  it  improves  the 
Environment.  This  is  well,  and  it  will  perfect 
Life  up  to  a  point.  But  beyond  that  it  cannot 
carry  us.  As  the  possibilities  of  the  natural  Life 
become  more  defined,  its  impossibilities  will 
become  the  more  appalling.  The  most  perfect 
civilization  would  leave  the  best  part  of  us  still 
incomplete.  Men  will  have  to  give  up  the 
experiment  of  attempting  to  live  in  half  an 
Environment.  Half  an  Environment  will  give 
but  half  a  Life.  Half  an  Environment?  He 
whose  correspondences  are  with  this  world  alone 
has  only  a  thousandth  part,  a  fraction,  the  mere 
rim  and  shade  of  an  Environment,  and  only  the 
fraction  of  a  Life.  How  long  will  it  take  Science 
to  believe  its  own  creed,  that  the  material  universe 
we  see  around  us  is  only  a  fragment  of  the 
universe  we  do  not  see?  The  very  retention  of 
the  phrase  "Material  Universe,"  we  are  told,  is 
the  confession  of  our  unbelief  and  ignorance; 
since  "matter  is  the  less  important  half  of  the 
material  of  the  physical  universe."* 

The  thing  to  be  aimed  at  is  not  an  organism 
self-contained  and  self-sufficient,  however  high  in 
the  scale  of  being,  but  an  organism  comjjlete  in  the 
whole  Environment.  It  is  open  to  any  one  to  aim 
at  a  self-sufficient  Life,  but  he  will  find  no  encour- 
agement in  Nature.  The  Life  of  the  body  may 
complete  itself  in  the  physical  world;  that  is  its 
legitimate  Environment.  The  Life  of  the  senses, 
high  and  low,  may  perfect  itself  in  Nature. 
Even  the  Life  of  thought  may  find  a  large  com- 

*  The  "Unpeoii  Universe,"  6th  Ed.,  p.  100. 


ENVIROXMEXT.  ^01 

plement  in  surrounding  things.  But  the  higher 
thought,  and  the  conscience,  and  the  religious 
Life,  can  only  perfect  themselves  in  God.  To 
make  the  influence  of  Environment  stop  with 
the  natural  world  is  to  doom  the  spiritual  nature 
to  death.  For  the  soul,  like  the  body,  can  never 
perfect  itself  in  isolation.  The  law  for  both  is  to 
be  complete  in  the  appropriate  Environment. 
And  the  perfection  to  be  sought  in  the  spiritual 
world  is  a  perfection  of  relation,  a  perfect  adjust- 
ment of  that  which  is  becoming  perfect  to  that 
which  is  perfect. 

The  third  problem,  now  simplified  to  a  point, 
finally  presents  itself.  Where  do  organism  and 
Environment  meet?  How  does  that  which  is 
becoming  perfect  avail  itself  of  its  perfecting 
Environment?  And  the  answer  is,  just  as  in 
Nature.  The  condition  is  simple  receptivity. 
And  yet  this  is  perhaps  the  least  simple  of  all 
conditions.  It  is  so  simple  that  we  will  not  act 
upon  it.  But  there  is  no  other  condition.  Christ 
has  condensed  the  whole  truth  into  one  memorable 
sentence,  "As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of 
itself  except  it  abide  in  the  vine,  no  more  can  ye 
except  ye  abide  in  Me."  And  on  the  positive 
side,  "He  that  abideth  in  Me  the  same  bringeth 
forth  much  fruit." 


CONFORMITY   TO  TYPE.  20'6 


CONFOEMITY  TO  TYPE. 


"  'So  careful  of  the  type  ?'  but  no, 

From  scarped  cliff  and  quarried  stone 
She  cries,  'A  thousaud  types  are  gone, 
I  care  for  nothing,  all  shall  go. 

Thou  makest  thine  appeal  to  me; 
I  bring  to  life,  I  bring  to  death: 
The  spirit  does  but  mean  thy  breath: 

I  know  no  more/    And  he,  shall  he, 

Man,  her  last  work,  who  seem'd  so  fair, 
Such  splendid  purpose  in  his  eyes. 
Who  roird  the  psalm  to  wintry  skies. 

Who  built  him  fanes  of  fruitless  prayer. 

Who  trusted  God  was  love  indeed 

And  love  Creation's  final  law — 

Tho'  Nature,  red  in  tooth  and  claw 
With  ravine,  shrieked  against  his  creed— 

Who  loved,  who  suffered  countless  ills. 

Who  battled  for  the  True,  the  Just, 

Be  blown  about  the  desert  dust 
Or  seal'd  within  the  iron  hills  ?" 

— In  Memoriam. 

■'Until  Christ  be  formed  in  you." — Paul. 

"The  one  end  to  which,  in  all  living  beings,  the  formative  impulse 
is  tending— the  one  scheme  which  the  Archaeus  of  the  old  speculators 
strives  to  carry  out,  seems  to  be  to  mould  the  offspring  into  the  like- 
ness of  the  parent.  It  is  the  first  great  law  of  reproduction,  that  the 
offspring  tends  to  resemble  its  parent  or  parents  more  closely  than 
anything  else.  ^ — Huxley. 

If  a  botanist  be  asked  the  difference  between  an 
oak,  a  palm-tree  and  a  lichen,  he  will  declare 
that  they  are  separated  from  one  another  by  the 
broadest  line  known  to  classification.  AVithout 
taking  into  account  the  outward  differences  of 
size  and  form,  the  variety  of  flower  and  fruit, 
ihe  peculiarities  of  leaf  and  branch,  he  sees  even 


204  CONFORMITY   TO   TYPE. 

ill  their  general  architecture  types  of  structure  as 
distinct  as  Norman,  Gothic  and  Eg3^ptian.  But 
if  the  first  young  germs  of  these  three  plants  are 
placed  before  him  and  he  is  called  upon  to  define 
the  difference,  he  finds  it  impossible.  lie  cannot 
even  say  which  is  which.  Examined  under  the 
highest  powers  of  the  microscope  they  yield  no 
clue.  Analyzed  by  the  chemist  with  all  the 
appliances  of  his  laboratory  they  keep  their  secret. 
The  same  experiment  can  be  tried  with  tlie 
embryos  of  animals.  Take  the  ovule  of  the 
worm,  the  eagle,  the  elephant,  and  of  man  him- 
self. Let  the  most  skilled  observer  apply  the 
most  searching  tests  to  distingiiish  one  from  the 
other  and  he  will  fail.  But  there  is  something 
more  surprising  still.  Compare  next  the  two  sets 
of  germs,  the  vegetable  and  the  animal.  And 
there  is  still  no  shade  of  difference.  Oak  and 
palm,  worm  and  man  all  start  in  life  together. 
No  matter  into  what  strangely  different  forms 
they  may  afterward  develop,  no  matter  whether 
they  are  to  live  on  sea  or  land,  creep  or  fly,  swim 
or  walk,  think  or  vegetate,  in  the  embryo  as  it 
first  meets  the  eye  of  Science  they  are  indistin- 
guishable. The  apple  which  fell  in  Newton's 
garden,  Newton's  dog  Diamond,  and  Newton 
himself,  began  life  at  the  same  point.* 

If  we  analyze  this  material  point  at  which  all 
life  starts,  we  shall  find  it  to  consist  of  a  clear 
structureless  jelly-like  substance  resembling  albu- 
men or  white  of  egg.  It  is  made  of  Carbon,  Hy- 
drogen, Oxygen  and  Nitrogen.  Its  name  is  pro- 
toplasm.    And  it  is  not  only  the  structural  unit 

*  "There  is,  indeed,  a  period  in  the  development  of  every  tissue 
and  every  living  thing  known  to  us  when  there  are  actually  no  struc- 
tural peculiarities  whatever — when  the  whole  organism  consists  of 
transparent,  structureless,  semi-fluid  living  bioplasm — when  it  would 
not  be  possible  to  distinguish  the  growing  moving  matter  which  was 
to  evolve  the  oak  from  that  which  was  the  germ  of  a  vertebrate 
animal.  Nor  can  any  difference  be  discerned  between  the  bioplasm 
matter  of  the  lowest,  simplest,  epithelial  scale  of  man's  organism  and 
that  from  which  the  nerve  cells  of  his  brain  are  to  be  evolved. 
Neither  by  studying  bioplasm  under  the  microscope  nor  by  any  kind 
of  physical  or  chemical  investigation  known,  can  we  form  any  notion 
of  the  nature  of  the  substance  which  is  to  be  formed  by  the  bioplasm, 
or  what  will  be  the  ordinary  results  of  the  living." — •'Bioplasm," 
Lionel  S.  Beale,  F.R.S.,  pp.  17,  18. 


CONI'OKMITY    TO    lYl'E.  205 

with  which  all  living  bodies  stuil  in  life,  but  with 
which  they  are  subsequently  built  up.  "Proto- 
plasm," says  Huxley,  "  simple  or  nucleated,  is  the 
formal  basis  of  all  life,  it  is  the  clay  of  the  Pot- 
ter." '"  Beast  and  fowl,  reptile  and  hsh,  mollusk, 
worm  and  polype  are  all  composed  of  structural 
units  of  the  same  character,  namely,  masses  of 
protoplasm  with  a  nucleus."* 

What  then  determines  the  difference  between 
different  animals?  AVhat  makes  one  little  speck 
of  protoplasm  grow  into  Newton's  dog  Diamond, 
and  another,  exactly  the  same,  into  Newton  him- 
self? It  is  a  mysterious  something  which  has  en- 
tered into  this  protoplasm.  No  eye  can  see  it. 
No  science  can  define  it.  There  is  a  different 
something  for  Newton's  dog  and  a  different  some- 
thing for  Newton;  so  that  though  both  use  the 
same  matter  they  build  it  up  in  these  widely  differ- 
ent ways.  Protoplasm  being  the  clay,  this  some- 
thing is  the  Potter.  And  as  there  is  only  one  clay 
and  yet  all  these  curious  forms  are  developed  out 
of  it,  it  follows  necessarily  that  the  difference  lies 
in  the  potters.  There  must  in  short  be  as  many 
potters  as  there  are  forms.  There  is  the  potter 
who  segments  the  worm,  and  the  potter  who 
builds  up  the  form  of  the  dog,  and  the  potter  who 
moulds  the  man.  To  understand  unmistakably 
that  it  is  really  the  potter  who  does  the  work,  let 
us  follow  for  a  moment  a  description  of  the  pro 
cess  by  a  trained  eye-witness.  The  observer  is  Mr. 
Huxley.  Through  the  tube  of  his  microscope  he 
is  watching  the  development,  out  of  a  speck  of 
protoplasm,  of  one  of  the  commonest  animals: 
"  Strange  possibilities,"  he  says,  "lie  dormant  in 
that  semi-fluid  globule.  Let  a  moderate  supply  of 
warmth  reach  its  watery  cradle  and  the  plastic 
matter  undergoes  changes  so  rapid  and  yet  so 
steady  and  purposelike  in  their  succession  that  one 
can  only  compare  them  to  those  operated  by  a 
skilled  modeler  upon  a  formless  lump  of  clay.  As 
with  an  invisible  trowel  the  mass  is  divided  and 

*  Huxley:  "Lay  Sermons,"  6lh  Ed.,  pp.  121',  129. 


•^06  CONFORMITY  TO  TYPE. 

subdivided  into  smaller  Jind  smaller  portions,  until 
it  is  reduced  to  an  aggregation  of  granules  not  too 
large  to  build  withal  the  finest  fabrics  of  the 
nascent  organism.  And,  then,  it  is  as  if  a  delicate 
finger  traced  out  the  line  to  be  occupied  by  the 
spinal  column,  and  moulded  the  contour  of  the 
body;  pinching  up  the  head  at  one  end,  the  tail  at 
the  other,  and  fashioning  flank  and  limb  into  due 
proportions  in  so  artistic  a  way,  that,  after  watch- 
ing the  process  hour  by  hour,  one  is  almost  invol- 
untarily possessed  by  the  notion,  that  some  more 
subtle  aid  to  vision  than  an  achromatic  would  show 
the  hidden  artist,  with  his  plan  before  him,  striving 
with  skillful  manipulation  to  perfect  his  work."* 

Besides  the  fact,  so  luminously  brought  out 
here,  that  the  artist  is  distinct  from  the  "semi- 
fluid globule"  of  jarotoplasm  in  which  he  works, 
there  is  this  other  essential  point  to  notice,  that  in 
all  his  "skillful  manipulation  "  the  artist  is  not 
working  at  random,  but  according  to  law.  He 
has  "his  plan  before  him."  In  the  zoological 
laboratory  of  Nature  it  is  not  as  in  a  workshop 
where  a  skilled  artisan  can  turn  his  hand  to  any- 
thing— where  the  same  potter  one  day  moulds  a 
dog,  the  next  a  bird,  and  the  next  a  man.  In 
Nature  one  potter  is  set  apart  to  make  each.  It 
is  a  more  complete  system  of  division  of  labor. 
One  artist  makes  all  the  dogs,  another  mkes  all  the 
birds,  a  third  makes  all  the  men.  Moreover,  each 
artist  confines  himself  exclusively  to  working  out 
his  own  plan.  He  ajopears  to  have  his  own  plan 
somehow  stamped  upon  himself,  and  his  work:  is 
rigidly  to  reproduce  himself. 

The  Scientific  Law  by  which  this  takes  place  is 
the  Law  of  Conformity  to  Type.  It  is  contained, 
to  a  large  extent,  in  the  ordinary  Law  of  Inheri- 
tance; or  it  may  be  considered  as  simply  another 
way  of  stating  what  Darwin  calls  the  Laws  of  Unity 
of  Type.  Darwin  defines  it  thus:  "  By  Unity  of 
Type  is  meant  that  fundamental  agreement  in 
structure  which  we  see  in  organic  beings  of  the 

*  Huxley:  "Lay  Sermons,"  Cth  Ed.,  p.  361. 


CONFORMITY    TO   TYPE.  207 

same  class,  and  which  is  quite  independent  of  their 
habits  of  life."*  According  to  this  law  every  liv- 
ing thing  that  comes  into  the  world  is  compelled 
to  stamp  upon  its  offspring  the  image  of  itself. 
The  dog,  according  to  its  type,  produces  a  dog; 
the  bird  a  bird. 

The  artist  who  operates  upon  matter  in  this 
subtle  way  and  carries  out  this  law  is  Life.  There 
are  a  great  many  different  kinds  of  Life.  If  one 
might  give  the  broader  meaning  to  the  words  of 
the  apostle:  "  All  life  is  not  the  same  life.  There 
is  one  kind  of  life  of  men,  another  life  of  beasts, 
another  of  fishes,  and  another  of  birds."  There 
is  the  Life,  or  the  Artist,  or  the  Potter  who  seg- 
ments the  worm,  the  potter  who  forms  the  dog, 
the  potter  who  moulds  the  man.f 

What  goes  on  then  in  the  animal  kingdom  is 
this — the  Bird-Life  seizes  upon  the  bird-germ  and 
builds  it  up  into  a  bird,  the  image  of  itself.  The 
Reptile  Life  seizes  upon  another  germinal  speck, 
assimilates  surrounding  matter,  and  fashions  it  in- 
to a  reptile.  The  Reptile-Life  thus  simply  makes 
an  incarnation  of  itself.  The  visible  bird  is  simply 
an  incarnation  of  the  invisible  Bird-Life. 

Now  we  are  nearing  the  point  where  the  spirit- 
ual analogy  appears.  It  is  a  very  wonderful  anal- 
ogy, so  wonderful  that  one  almost  hesitates  to  put 
it  into  words.  Yet  Nature  is  reverent;  and  it  is 
her  voice  to  which  we  listen.  These  lower  phe- 
nomena of  life,  she  says,  are  but  an  allegory. 
There  is  another  knd  of  Life  of  which  Science  as 
yet  has  taken  little  cognizance.  It  obeys  the  same 
laws.  It  builds  up  an  organism  into  its  own  form. 
It  is  the  Christ-life.  As  the  Bird-Life  builds  up 
a  bird,  the   image  of  itself,   so  the  Christ-Life 

*  "Origin  of  Species,"  p.  166. 

t  There  ie  no  iutention  here  to  countenance  the  old  doctrine  of  the 
permanence  of  species.  W^hether  the  word  species  represent  a  fixed 
quantity  or  the  reverse  does  not  affect  the  question.  The  facts  as 
stated  are  true  in  contemporary  zoology  if  not  in  palaeontology.  It 
may  also  be  adde.^  that  the  general  conception  of  a  definite  Vital 
Principle  is  used  here  simply  as  a  working  hypothesis.  Science  may 
yet  have  to  give  up  what  the  Germans  call  the  "ontogenetic  directive 
Force."  But  in  the  absence  of  any  proof  to  the  contrary,  and  espe- 
cially of  any  satisfactory  alternative,  we  are  .iustified  in  working  still 
with  the  old  theory. 


208  CONFORMITY   TO   TYPE. 

builds  up  a  Christ,  the  image  of  Himself,  in  tlifi 
inward  nature  of  man.  When  a  man  becomes  a 
Christian  the  natural  prcoess  is  this:  The  Living 
Christ  enters  into  his  soul.  Development  begins. 
The  quickening  Life  seizes  upon  the  soul,  assimi- 
lates surrounding  elements,  and  begins  to  fashion 
it.  According  to  the  great  Law  of  Conformity  to 
Type  this  fashioning  takes  a  specific  form.  It  is 
that  of  the  Artist  who  fashions.  And  all  through 
I  life  this  wonderful,  mystical,  glorious,  yet  per- 
fectly definite  process,  goes  on  "'until  Christ  be 
formed  "  in  it. 

The  Christian  Life  is  not  a  vague  effort  a'ter 
righteousness — an  ill-defined  pointless  struggle  for 
an  ill-defined  jiointless  end.  Eeligiou  is  no  dis- 
hevelled mass  of  aspiration,  prayer,  and  faith. 
There  is  no  more  mystery  in  Religion  as  to  its  pro- 
cesses than  in  Biology.  There  is  much  mystery 
in  Biology.  We  know  all  but  nothing  of  Life  yet, 
nothing  of  development.  There  is  the  same 
mystery  in  the  spiritual  Life.  But  the  great  lines 
are  the  same,  as  decided,  as  luminous;  and  the 
laws  of  natural  and  spiritual  are  the  same,  as  un- 
erring, as  simple.  Will  everything  else  in  the 
natural  world  unfold  its  order,  and  yield  to  Science 
more  and  more  a  vision  of  harmony,  and  Eeligion, 
which  should  complement  and  j^erfect  all,  remain 
a  chaos?  From  the  standpoint  of  Eevelation  no 
truth  is  more  obscure  than  Conformity  to  Type. 
If  Science  can  furnish  a  companion  phenomena 
from  an  every-day  process  of  the  natural  life,  it 
may  at  least  throw  this  most  mystical  doctrine  of 
Christianity  into  thinkable  form.  Is  there  any 
fallacy  in  speaking  of  the  Embryology  of  the  New 
Life?  Is  the  analogy  invalid?  Are  there  not 
vital  processes  in  the  Spiritual  as  well  as  in  the 
^Natural  world?  The  Bird  being  an  incarnation 
of  the  Bird -Life,  may  not  the  Christian  be  a  spirit- 
ual incarnation  of  the  Christ-Life?  And  is  here 
not  a  real  justification  in  the  processes  of  the  New- 
Birth  for  such  a  parallel? 

Let  us  appeal  to  the  record  of  these  processes. 

In  what  terms  does  the  New  Testament  describe 


CONFORMITY    TO   TYPE.  209 

them?  The  answer  is  sufficiently  striking.  It  uses 
everywhere  the  language  of  Biology.  It  is  impos- 
sible that  the  New  Testament  writers  should  have 
been  familiar  with  these  biological  facts.  It  is 
impossible  that  their  views  of  this  great  truth 
should  have  been  as  clear  as  Science  can  make 
them  now.  But  they  had  no  alternative.  There 
was  no  other  way  of  expressing  this  truth.  It  was 
a  biological  question.  So  they  struck  out  unhesi- 
tatingly into  the  new  fields  of  words,  and,  with  an 
originality  which  commands  both  reverence  and 
surprise,  stated  their  truth  with  such  light,  or 
darkness,  as  they  had.  They  did  not  mean  to  be 
scientific,  only  to  be  accurate,  and  their  fearless 
accuracy  has  made  them  scientific. 

What  could  be  more  original,  for  instance,  than 
the  Apostle's  reiteration  that  the  Christian  was  a 
new  creature,  a  new  man,  a  babe?*  Or  that  this 
new  man  was  "  begotten  of  God,"  God's  workman- 
ship ?t  And  what  could  be  a  more  accurate  expres- 
sion of  the  law  of  Conformity  to  Type  than  this: 
"Put  on  the  new  man,  which  is  renewed  in 
knowledge  after  the  image  of  Him  that  created 
him?  "  t  Or  this,  "We  are  changed  into  the 
same  image  from  glory  to  glory?  "§  And  else- 
where we  are  expressly  told  by  the  same  writer  that 
this  Conformity  is  the  end  and  goal  of  the  Chris- 
tian life.  To  work  this  Type  in  us  is  the  whole 
purpose  of  God  for  man.  '"  Whom  He  did  fore- 
know He  also  did  predestinate  to  be  conformed 
to  the  image  of  His  Son."  || 

One  must  confess  that  the  originality  of  this 
entire  New  Testament  conception  is  most  start- 
ling. Even  for  the  nineteenth  century  it  is  the 
most  startling.  But  when  one  remembers  that 
such  an  idea  took  form  in  the  first,  he  cannot  fail 
to  be  impressed  with  a  deepening  wonder  at  the 
system  which  begat  and  cherished  it.  Men_  seek 
the  origin  of  Christianity  among  philosophies  of 
that  age.    Scholars  contrast  it  still  with  these  phi- 


*  3  Cor.  V.  17.        tl  John  v.  18;  1  Pet.  i.  3.         t  Col.  iii.  9,  10. 
'i  2  Cor.  iii.  18.  II  Rom.  viii,  39. 


310  CONFORMITY   TO   TYPE. 

losopliies,  and  scheme  to  fit  it  in  to  those  of  latei 
growth.  Has  it  never  occurred  to  them  how  much 
more  it  is  than  a  philosophy,  that  it  includes  a 
science,  a  Biology  pure  and  simple?  As  well 
might  naturalists  contrast  zoology  with  chemistry, 
or  seek  to  incorporate  geology  with  botany — the 
living  with  the  dead — as  try  to  explain  the  spiritual 
life  in  terms  of  mind  alone.  When  will  it  be  seen 
that  the  characteristic  of  the  Christian  Religion  is 
its  Life,  that  a  true  theology  must  begin  with  a 
Biology?  Theology  is  the  Science  of  God,  Why 
will  men  treat  God  as  inorganic? 

If  this  analogy  is  capable  of  being  worked  out, 
we  should  expect  answers  to  at  least  three  ques- 
tions. 

First:  What  corresponds  to  the  protoplasm  in 
the  spiritual  sphere? 

Second:  What  is  the  Life,  the  Hidden  Artist 
who  fashions  it? 

Third :  What  do  we  know  of  the  process  and  the 
plan? 

First:  The  Protoplasm. 

We  should  be  forsaking  the  lines  of  nature  were 
we  to  imagine  for  a  moment  that  the  new  creature 
was  to  be  found  out  of  nothing.  Ex  nihilo  nihil — 
nothing  can  be  made  out  of  nothing.  Matter  is 
uncreatable  and  indestructible;  Nature  and  man 
can  only  form  and  transform.  Hence  when  a  new 
animal  is  made,  no  new  clay  is  made.  Life  merely 
enters  into  already  existing  matter,  assimilates 
more  of  the  same  sort  and  re-builds  it.  The 
spiritual  Artist  works  in  the  same  way.  He  must 
have  a  peculiar  kind  of  protoplasm,  a  basis  of  life, 
and  that  must  be  already  existing. 

Now  we  find  this  in  the  materials  of  character 
with  which  the  natural  man  is  previously  provided. 
Mind  and  character,  the  will  and  the  affections, 
the  moral  nature — these  form  the  bases  of  spiritual 
life.  To  look  in  this  direction  for  the  protoplasm 
of  the  spiritual  life  is  consistent  with  all  analogy. 
The  lowest  or  mineral  world  mainly  supplies  the 
material — and  this  is  true  even  for  insectivorous 
SDe?ies — for  the  vegetable  kingdom.     The  vegc- 


COIfFOKMITY   TO   TYPE.  211  ' 

table  supplies  the  material  for  the  animal.  Next 
in  turn,  the  animal  furnishes  material  for  the 
mental,  and  lastly  the  mental  for  the  spiritual. 
Each  member  of  the  series  is  complete  only  when 
the  steps  below  it  are  complete;  the  highest  de- 
mands all.  It  is  not  necessary  for  the  immediate 
purpose  to  go  so  far  into  the  psychology  either  of 
the  new  creature  or  of  the  old  as  to  define  more 
clearly  what  these  moral  bases  are.  It  is  enough 
to  discover  that  in  this  womb  the  new  creature  is 
lo  be  born,  fashioned  out  of  the  mental  and  moral 
parts,  substance,  or  essence  of  the  natural  man. 
The  only  thing  to  be  insisted  npon  is  that  in  the 
natural  man  this  mental  and  moral  substance  or 
basis  is  spiritually  lifeless.  However  active  the 
intellectual  or  moral  life  may  be,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  this  other  Life  it  is  dead.  That  which 
is  flesh  is  flesh.  It  wants,  that  is  to  say,  the  kind 
of  Life  which  constitutes  the  difference  between 
the  Christian  and  the  not-a- Christian.  It  has  not 
yet  been  "  born  of  the  Spirit." 

To  show  further  that  this  protoplasm  possesses 
the  necessary  properties  of  a  normal  protoplasm  it 
will  be  necessary  to  examine  in  passing  what  these 
properties  are.  They  are  two  in  number,  the  capa- 
city for  life  and  plasticity.  Consider  first  the 
capacity  for  life.  It  is  not  enough  to  find  an 
adequate  supply  of  material.  That  must  be  of 
the  right  kind.  For  all  kinds  of  matter  have 
not  the  power  to  be  the  vehicle  of  life— all  kinds 
of  matter  are  not  even  fitted  to  be  the  vehicle  of 
electricity.  What  peculiarity  there  is  in  Carbon, 
Hydrogen,  Ox3^gen,  and  Nitrogen,  when  com- 
bined in  a  certain  way,  to  receive  life,  we  cannot 
tell.  We  only  know  that  life  is  always  associated 
in  Nature  with  this  particular  physical  basis  and 
never  with  any  other.  But  we  are  not  in  the  same 
darkness  with  regard  to  the  moral  protoplasm. 
When  we  look  at  this  complex  combination 
which  we  have  predicted  as  the  basis  of  spiritual 
life,  we  do  find  something  which  gives  it  a  pecu- 
liar qualification  for  being  the  protoplasm  of  the 
Christ-Life.     We   discover  one  strong  reason  at 


212  COJS^FOKMITY   TO   TYPE. 

least,  not  only  why  this  kind  of  life  should  be 
associated  with  this  kind  of  protoplasm,  but  why 
it  should  never  be  associated  with  other  kinds 
which  seem  to  resemble  it — why,  for  instance, 
this  spiritual  life  should  not  be  engrafted  upon 
the  intelligence  of  a  dog  or  the  instincts  of  an 
ant. 

The  protoplasm  in  man  has  a  something  in 
addition  to  its  instincts  or  its  habits.  It  has  a 
cajjacity  for  God.  In  this  capacity  for  God  lies 
its  receptivity;  it  is  the  very  protoplasm  that  was 
necessary.  The  chamber  is  not  only  ready  to 
receive  the  new  Life,  but  the  Guest  is  expected, 
and,  till  He  comes,  is  missed.  Till  then  the 
soul  longs  and  yearns,  wastes  and  pines,  waving 
its  tentacles  piteously  in  the  empty  air,  feeling 
after  God  if  so  be  that  it  may  find  Him,  This  is 
not  peculiar  to  the  protoplasm  of  the  Christian's 
soul.  In  every  land  and  in  every  age  there  have 
been  altars  to  the  Known  or  Unknown  God.  It 
is  now  agreed  as  a  mere  question  of  anthropology 
that  the  universal  language  of  the  human  soul 
has  always  been  "I  perish  with  hunger."  This 
is  what  fits  it  for  Christ.  There  is  a  grandeur  in 
this  cry  from  the  depths  which  makes  its  very 
unhappiness  sublime. 

The  other  quality  we  are  to  look  for  in  the  soul 
is  mouldableness,  plasticity.  Conformity  demands 
conformability.  Now  plasticity  is  not  only  a 
marked  characteristic  of  all  forms  of  life,  but  in 
a  special  sense  of  the*  highest  forms.  It  increases 
steadily  as  we  rise  in  the  scale.  The  inorganic 
world,  to  begin  with,  is  rigid.  A  crystal  of  silica 
dissolved  and  redissolved  a  thousand  times  will 
never  assume  any  other  form  than  the  hexagonal. 
The  plant  next,  though  plastic  in  its  elements,  is 
comparatively  insusceptible  of  change.  The 
very  fixity  of  its  sphere,  the  imprisonment  for  life 
in  a  single  spot  of  earth,  is  the  symbol  of  a  certain 
degradation.  The  animal  in  all  parts  is  mobile, 
sensitive,  free;  the  highest  animal,  man,  is  the 
most  mobile,  the  most  at  leisure  from  routine,  the 
most  impressionable,  the  most  open  for  change. 


CONFORMITY    TO   TYPE.  213 

And  when  we  reach  t/ie  mind  and  soul,  this 
mobility  is  found  in  its  most  developed  form. 
Whether  we  regard  its  susceptibility  to  impres- 
sions, its  lightning-like  response  even  to  influences 
the  most  impalpable  and  subtle,  its  power  of 
instantaneous  adjustment,  or  whether  Ave  regard 
the  delicacy  and  variety  of  its  moods^  or  its  vast 
powers  of  growth,  we  are  forced  to  recognize  in 
this  the  most  perfect  capacity  for  change.  This 
marvellous  plasticity  of  mind  contains  at  once  tlie 
possibility  and  jn-ophecy  of  its  transformation. 
The  soul,  in  a  word,  is  made  to  be  converted. 

Second,  The  Life. 

The  main  reason  for  giving  the  Life,  the  agent 
of  this  change,  a  separate  treatment,  is  to 
emphasize  the  distinction  between  it  and  the 
natural  man  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  spiritual 
man  on  the  other.  The  natural  man  is  its  basis, 
the  spiritual  man  is  its  product,  the  Life  itself 
is  something  different.  Just  as  in  an  organism 
we  have  these  three  things — formative  matter, 
formed  matter,  and  the  forming  principle  or  life; 
so  in  the  soul  we  have  the  old  nature,  the  renewed 
nature,  and  the  transforming  Life. 

This  being  made  evident,  little  remains  here  to 
be  added.  No  man  has  ever  seen  this  Life.  It 
cannot  be  analyzed,  or  weighed,  or  traced  in  its 
essential  nature.  But  this  is  just  what  we 
expected.  This  invisibility  is  the  same  property 
which  we  found  to  be  peculiar  to  the  natural 
life.  We  saw  no  life  in  the  first  embryos,  in  oak, 
in  palm,  or  in  bird.  In  the  adult  it  likewise 
escapes  us.  AYe  shall  not  wonder  if  we  cannot 
see  it  in  the  Christian.  We  shall  not  expect  to 
see  it.  A  fortiori  we  shall  not  expect  to  see  it, 
for  we  are  further  removed  from  the  coarser 
matter — moving  now  among  ethereal  and  spiritual 
things.  It  is  because  it  conforms  to  the  law  of 
this  analogy  so  well  that  men,  not  seeing  it,  have 
denied  its  being.  Is  it  hopeless  to  point  out  that 
one  of  the  most  recognizable  characteristics  of 
life  is  its  unrecoguizableness^  and  that  the  very 


3l4-  COJSriORMITY    TO   TYPE. 

token  of  its  spiritual  nature  lies  in  its  being 
beyond  the  grossness  of  our  eyes? 

We  do  not  pretend  that  Science  can  define  this 
Life  to  be  Christ.  It  has  no  definition  to  give 
even  of  its  own  life,  mncli  less  of  this.  But  there 
are  converging  lines  which  point,  at  least,  in  the 
direction  that  it  is  Christ.  There  was  One  whom 
history  acknowledges  to  have  been  the  Truth. 
One  of  His  claims  was  this,  "I  am  the  Life." 
According  to  the  doctrine  of  Biogenesis,  life  can 
only  come  from  life.  It  was  His  additional  claim 
that  His  function  in  the  world  was  to  give  men 
Life.  "I  am  come  that  ye  might  have  Life,  and 
that  ye  might  have  it  more  abundantly."  This 
could  not  refer  to  the  natural  life,  for  men  had 
that  already.  He  that  hath  the  Son  hath  another 
Life.  "Know  ye  not  your  own  selves  how  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  in  you." 

Again,  there  are  men  whose  characters  assume 
a  strange  resemblance  to  Him  who  was  the  Life. 
AVhen  we  see  the  bird-character  appear  in  an 
organism  we  assume  that  the  Bird-Life  has  been 
there  at  work.  And  when  we  behold  Conformity 
to  Type  in  a  Christian,  and  know  moreover  that 
the  type-organization  can  be  produced  by  the 
type-life  alone  does  this  not  lend  support  to  the 
hypotliesis  that  the  Type-Life  also  has  been  here 
at  work?  If  every  effect  demands  a  cause,  what 
other  cause  is  there  for  the  Christian?  When 
we  have  a  cause,  and  an  adequate  cause,  and  no 
other  adequate  cause;  when  we  have  the  express 
statement  of  that  Cause  that  he  is  that  cause, 
what  more  is  possible?  Let  not  Science,  knowing 
nothing  of  its  own  life,  go  further  than  to  say  it 
knows  nothing  of  this  Life.  We  shall  not  dissent 
from  its  silence.  But  till  it  tells  us  what  it  is,  we 
wait  for  evidence  that  it  is  not  this. 

Third,  the  Process. 

It  is  impossible  to  enter  at  length  into  any 
details  of  the  great  miracle  by  which  this  proto- 
plasm is  to  be  conformed  to  the  Image  of  the 
Son.  We  enter  that  province  tiow  only  so  far  as 
this  Law  of  Conformity  compels  us.     Nor  is  it  so 


C02!fF0EMITY   TO   TYPE.  ?15 

mucli  tlie  nature  of  the  process  we  liave  to  con- 
sider as  its  general  direction  and  results.  We  are 
dealing  with  a  question  of  mori^hology  rather 
than  of  physiology. 

It  must  occur  to  one  on  reaching  this  point, 
that  a  new  element  here  comes  in  which  compels 
us,  for  the  moment,  to  part  company  with  zoology.^ 
That  element  is  the  conscious  power  of  choice. 
The  animal  in  following  tlie  type  is  blind.  It  does 
not  only  follow  the  type  involuntarily  and  com- 
pulsorily,  but  does  not  know  that  it  is  following 
it.  We  might  certainly  have  been  made  to  con- 
form to  the  Type  in  the  higher  sphere  with  no 
more  knowledge  or  power  of  choice  than  animals 
or  automata.  But  then  we  should  not  have  been 
men.  It  is  a  possible  case,  but  not  possible  to  the 
kind  of  protoplasm  with  which  men  are  furnished. 
Owing  to  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  this 
protoplasm  an  additional  and  exceptional  provision 
is  essential. 

The  first  demand  is  that  being  conscious  and 
having  this  power  of  choice,  the  mind  should 
have  an  adequate  knowledge  of  what  it  is  to 
choose.  Some  revelation  of  the  Type,  that  is  to 
say,  is  necessary.  And  as  that  revelation  can  only 
come  from  the  Type,  we  must  look  there  for  it. 

We  are  confronted  at  once  with  the  Incarnation. 
There  we  find  how  the  Christ-Life  has  clothed. 
Himself  with  matter,  taken  literal  flesh,  and 
dwelt  among  us.  The  Incarnation  is  the  Life 
I'evealing  the  Type.  Men  are  long  since  agreed 
that  this  is  the  end  of  the  Incarnation — the 
revealing  of  God.  But  why  should  God  be 
revealed?  Why,  indeed,  but  for  man?  Why  but 
that  "beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the 
only  begotten  we  should  be  changed  into  the  same 
image?" 

To  meet  the  power  of  choice,  however,  some- 
thing more  was  necessary  than  the  mere  revelation 
of  tlae  Type — it  was  necessary  that  the  Type 
should  be  the  highest  conceivable  Type.  In 
other  words,  the  Type  must  be  an  Ideal.  For  all 
true  human  growth,  effort,  and  achievement,  an 


216  CONFORMITY   TO   TYPE. 

ideal  is  acknowledged  to  be  indispensable.  And 
all  men  accordingly  wdiose  lives  are  based  on 
principle,  have  set  themselves  an  ideal,  more  or 
less  perfect.  It  is  this  which  lirst  deflects  the 
will  from  what  is  based,  and  tnrns  the  wayward 
life  to  what  is  holy.  So  much  is  true  as  mere 
philosophy.  But  philosophy  failed  to  present 
men  with  their  ideal.  It  has  never  been  suggested 
that  Christianity  has  failed.  Believers  and 
unbelievers  have  been  compelled  to  acknowledge 
that  Christianity  holds  up  to  the  world  the  mis- 
sing Type,  the  Perfect  Man. 

The  recognition  of  the  Ideal  is  the  first  step  in 
the  direction  of  Conformity,  But  let  it  be  clearly 
observed  that  it  is  but  a  step.  There  is  no  vital 
connection  between  merely  seeing  the  Ideal  and 
being  conformed  to  it.  Thousands  admire  Christ 
who  never  become  Christians. 

But  the  great  question  still  remains.  How  is 
the  Christian  to  be  conformed  to  the  Type,  or  as 
we  should  now  say,  dealing  with  consciousness,  to 
the  Ideal?  The  mere  knowledge  of  the  Ideal  is 
no  more  than  a  motive.  How  is  the  process  to 
be  practically  accomplished?  Who  i/  to  do  it? 
Where,  when,  how?  This  is  the  test.  <}aestion  of 
Christianity.  It  is  here  that  all  Uieories  of 
Christianity,  all  attempts  to  explain  r'a  on  natural 
principles,  all  reductions  of  it  to  philoB<3phy,  inev- 
itably break  down.  It  is  here  that  ail  imitations 
of  Christianity  perish.  It  is  here,  also,  that 
personal  religion  finds  its  most  fatal  obstacle. 
Men  are  all  quite  clear  about  the  Ideal.  We  are 
all  convinced  of  the  duty  of  mankind  regarding 
it.  But  how  to  secure  that  willing  men  shall 
attain  it — that  is  the  problem  of  religion.  It  is 
the  failure  to  understand  the  dynariics  of  Chris- 
tianity that  has  most  seriously  and  most  pitifully 
hindered  its  growth  both  in  the  indiT'idual  and 
in  the  race. 

From  the  standpoint  of  biology  this  practical 
difficulty  vanishes  in  a  moment.  It  is  probably 
the  very  simplicity  of  the  law  rej;arding  it  that 
has    made    men    stumble.      For    nothing    is    s© 


COKFOllMITY    TO    TYPE.  217 

luvistble  to  most  men  as  transparency.  The  law 
liere  IS  the  same  biological  law  that  exists  in  the 
natural  world.  For  centuries  men  have  striven 
to  find  ont  ways  and  means  to  conform  themselves 
to  this  type.  Impressive  motives  have  been  pic- 
tured, the  proper  circumstances  arranged,  the 
direction  of  effort  defined,  and  men  have  toiled, 
struggled,  and  agonized  to  conform  themselves  to 
the  Image  of  the  Son.  Can  the  protolasm 
conform  itself  to  its  type  ?  Can  the  embryo 
fashion  itseJj?  Is  Conformity  to  Type  produced 
oy  the  matter  or  hy  the  life,  by  the  protoplasm  or 
oy  the  Type?  Is  organization  the  cause  of  life  or 
the  effect  of  it?  It  is  the  effect  of  it.  Conformity 
to  Type,  therefore,  is  secured  by  the  type.  Christ 
makes  the  Christian. 

Men  need  only  reflect  on  the  automatic  pro- 
cesses of  their  natural  body  to  discover  that  this  is 
the  universal  law  of  Life.  What  does  any  man 
consciously  do,  for  instance,  in  the  matter  of 
breathing?  What  part  does  he  take  in  circulating 
the  blood,  in  keeping  up  the  rhythm  of  his  heart? 
What  control  has  he  over  growth?  What  man  by 
taking  thought  can  add  a  cubit  to  his  stature? 
What  part  voluntarily  does  man  take  in  secretion, 
in  digestion,  in  the  reflex  actions?  In  point  of 
fact  is  he  not  after  all  the  veriest  automaton, 
every  organ  of  his  body  given  him,  every  function 
arranged  for  him,  brain  and  nerve,  thought  and 
sensation,  will  and  conscience,  all  provided  for 
him  ready  made?  And  yet  he  turns  upon  his 
soul  and  wishes  to  organize  that  himself!  0 
preposterous  and  vain  man,  thou  who  couldest 
not  make  a  finger-nail  of  thy  body,  thinkest  thou 
to  fashion  this  wonderful,  mysterious,  subtle  soul 
of  thine  after  the  ineffable  Image?  Wilt  thou  ever 
permit  thyself  to  he  conformed  to  the  Image  of 
the  Son?  Wilt  thou,  who  canst  not  add  a  cubit 
to  thy  stature,  submit  to  be  raised  by  the  Type- 
Life  within  thee  to  the  perfect  stature  of  Christ? 

This  is  a  humbling  conclusion.  And  therefore 
men  will  resent  it.  Men  will  still  experiment  "  hy 
works  of  righteousness  which  they  have  done  "  to 


318  CONFORMITY   TO   TYPE. 

earn  the  Ideal  life.  Tlie  doctrine  of  Human  In- 
ability, as  the  Church  calls  it,  has  always  been  ob- 
jectionable to  men  who  do  not  know  themselves. 
The  doctrine  itself,  perhaps,  has  been  partly  to 
blame.  While  it  has  been  often  affirmed  in  such 
language  as  rightly  to  humble  men,  it  has  also 
been  stated  and  cast  in  their  teeth  with  words 
which  could  only  insult  them.  Merely  to  assert 
dogmatically  that  man  has  no  power  to  move  hand 
or  foot  to  help  himself  toward  Christ,  carries  no 
real  conviction.  The  weight  of  human  authority 
is  always  powerless,  and  ought  to  be,  where  the 
intelligence  is  denied  a  rationale.  In  the  light  of 
modern  science  when  men  seek  a  reason  for  every 
thought  of  God  or  man,  this  old  doctrine  with  its 
severe  and  almost  inhuman  aspect — till  rightl}'' 
understood — must  presently  have  succumbed.  But 
to  the  biologist  it  cannot  die.  It  stands  to  him  on 
the  solid  ground  of  Nature.  It  has  a  reason  in 
the  laws  of  life  which  must  resuscitate  it  and  give 
it  another  lease  of  years.  Bird-Life  makes  the 
Bird.  Christ-Life  makes  the  Christian,  No  man 
by  taking  thought  can  add  a  cubit  to  his  stature. 
So  much  for  the  scientific  evidence.  Here  is 
the  corresponding  statement  of  the  truth  from 
Scripture.  Observe  the  passive  voice  in  these 
sentences:  ^^Begotten  of  God;"  "The  new  man 
which  is  renewed  in  knowledge  after  the  Image  of 
Him  that  created  him;"  or  this,  "AYe  are  changed 
into  the  same  Image;"  or  this,  "Predestinate  to 
be  conformed  to  the  Image  of  His  Son;"  or  again, 
"Lentil  Christ  he  formed  in  you;"  or  "Except  a 
man  he  horn  again  he  canno';  seen  the  Kingdom  of 
God;"  "Except  a  man  he  hornoi  water  and  of  the 
Spirit  he  cannot  enter  the  Kingdom  of  God." 
There  is  one  outstanding  verse  which  seems  at  first 
sight  on  the  other  side:  "AVork  out  your  own  sal- 
vation with  fear  and  trembling;"  but  as  one  reads 
on  he  finds,  as  if  the  writer  dreaded  the  very 
misconception^  the  complement,  "For  it  is  God 
which  worketh  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His 
good  pleasure." 
It  will  be  noticed  in  these  passages,  and  in  others 


CONFORMITY   TO   TYPE.  210 

^vliicli  might  be  named,  that  the  process  of  trans- 
I'ormation'is  referred  indifferently  to  the  agency  of 
each  Person  of  the  Trinity  in  turn.  We  are  not 
concerned  to  take  up  this  question  of  detail.  It 
is  sufiticient  that  the  transformation  is  wrought. 
Tiieologians,  however,  distinguish  thus:  the  indi- 
rect agent  is  Christ,  tlie  direct  influence  is  the 
Holy  Spirit.  In  other  words,  Christ  by  his  Spirit 
renews  the  souls  of  men. 

Is  man,  then,  out  of  the  arena  altogether? _  Ji 
he  mere  clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter,  a  machine, 
a  tool,  an  automaton?  Yes  and  No.  If  he  were 
a  tool  he  would  not  be  a  man.  If  he  were  a 
man  he  would  have  something  to  do.  One  need 
not  seek  to  balance  what  G  od  does  here,  and  what 
man  does.  But  we  shall  attain  to  a  sufficient 
measure  of  truth  on  a  most  delicate  problem  if  we 
make  a  final  appeal  to  the  natural  life.  We  find 
that  in  maintaining  thi^  natural  life  Nature  has  a 
shar  and  man  has  a  share.  By  far  the  larger  part 
is  done  for  us — the  brea'^ing,  the  secreting,  the 
circulating  of  the  blood,  the  building  up  of  the 
organism.  And  although  the  part  which  man 
plays  is  a  minor  part,  yet,  strange  to  say,  it  is  not 
less  essential  to  the  well  being,  and  even  to  the 
l)eing,  of  'he  whole.  For  instance,  man  has  to 
take  food.  He  has  nothing  to  do  with  it  after  he 
has  once,  taken  it,  for  the  moment  it  passes  his 
lips  it  is  taken  in  hand  by  reflex  actions  and 
handed  on  from  one  organ  to  another,  his  control 
over  it,  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  being 
completely  lost.  But  the  initial  act  was  his. 
And  without  that  nothing  could  have  been  done. 
Now  whether  there  be  an  exact  analogy  between 
the  voluntary  and  involuntary  functions  in  the 
body,  and  the  corresponding  processes  in  the  soul, 
we  do  not  at  present  inquire.  But  this  will  indi- 
cate, at  least,  that  man  has  his  own  part  to  play. 
Let  him  choose  Life;  let  him  daily  nourish  his 
soul;  let  him  forever  starve  the  old  life;  let  him 
abide  continuously  as  a  living  branch  in  the  Vine, 
and  the  True-Vine  Life  will  flow  into  his  soul, 
assimilating,  renewing,  conforming  to  Type,  till 


220  COXFOKMITY   TO   TYPE. 

Christ,  pledged  by  His  own  law,  be  formed  in 
him. 

We  have  been  dealing  with  Christianity  at  its 
most  mystical  point.  Mark  here  once  more  its 
absolute  naturalness.  The  pui'suit  of  the  Type  is 
Just  what  all  Nature  is  engaged  in.  Plant  and 
insect,  fish  and  reptile,  bird  and  mammal — these 
in  their  several  spheres  are  striving  after  the  Type. 
To  prevent  its  extinction,  to  ennoble  it,  to 
people  earth  and  sea  and  sky  with  it;  this  is  the 
meaning  of  the  Struggle  for  Life,  And  this  is  our 
life — to  pursue  the  Type,  to  poj)ulate  the  Avorld 
with  it. 

Our  religion  is  not  all  a  mistake.  We  are  not 
visionaries.  We  are  not  "unpractical,"  as  men 
pronounce  us,  when  we  worsliip.  To  try  to  follow 
Christ  is  not  to  be  "righteous  overmuch."  True 
men  are  not  rhapsodizing  when  they  preach;  nor 
do  those  waste  their  lives  who  waste  themselves 
in  striving  to  extend  the  Kingdom  of  God  on  earth. 
This  is  what  life  is  for.  The  Christian  in  his  life- 
aim  is  in  strict  line  with  Nature.  What  men  call 
his  supernatural  is  quite  natural. 

Mark  well  also  the  splendor  of  this  idea  of  sal- 
vation. It  is  not  merely  final  "safety,"  to  be  for- 
given sin,  to  evade  the  curse.  It  is  not,  vaguely, 
"to  get  to  heaven."  It  is  to  be  conformed  to  the 
Image  of  the  Son,  It  is  fol'  these  poor  elements  to 
attain  to  the  Supreme  Beauty.  The  organizing 
Life  being  Eternal,  so  must  this  Beauty  be  immor- 
tal. Its  progress  toward  the  Immaculate  is 
already  guaranteed.  And  more  than  all  there  is 
here  fulfilled  the  subi  aiest  of  all  prophecies;  not 
Beauty  alone  bi..  -  Unity  is  secured  by  the  Type — 
Unity  of  man  and  man,  God  and  man,  God  and. 
Christ  and  man  till  "all  shall  be  one." 

Could  Sci.'uce  in  its  most  brilliant  anticipations 
for  the  future  of  its  highest  organism  ever  have 
foreshadowed  a  development  like  this?  Now  that 
the  revelation  is  made  to  it,  it  surely  recognizes  it 
as  the  missing  point  in  Evolution,  the  climax  to 
which  all  Creation  tends.  Hitherto  Evolution 
had  no  future.     It  was  a  pillar  with  marvelous 


COXFOIOIITY    TO    TYPE.  221 

carving,  growing  richer  and  Cner  toward  the  top, 
but  without  a  capital;  a  pyramid,  the  vast  base 
buried  in  the  inorganic,  towering  higlier  and 
higher,  tier  above  tier,  life  above  life,  mind  above 
mind,  over  more  perfect  in  its  workmanship,  more 
noble  in  its  symmetry,  and  yet  withal  so  much  the 
more  mysterious  in  its  aspiration.  The  most  curi- 
ous eye,  following  it  upward,  saw  nothing.  The 
cloud  fell  and  covered  it.  Just  what  men  wanted 
to  see  was  hid.  The  work  of  the  ages  had  no  apex. 
But  the  work  begun  by  Nature  is  finished  by  the 
Supernatural — as  we  are  wont  to  call  the  higher 
natural.  And  as  the  veil  is  lifted  by  Christianity 
it  strikes  men  dumb  with  wonder.  For  the  goal 
of  Evolution  is  Jesus  Christ. 

The  Christian  life  is  the  only  life  that  will  ever 
be  completed.  Apart  from  Christ  the  life  of  man 
is  a  broken  pillar,  the  race  of  men  an  unfinished 
pyramid.  One  by  one  in  sight  of  Eternity  all 
human  Ideals  fall  short,  one  by  one  before  the  open 
grave  all  human  hoj^es  dissolve.  The  Laureate 
sees  a  moment's  light  in  Nature's  jealousy  for 
the  Type;  but  that  too  vanishes. 

"  '  So  careful  of  the  type?'  but  uo 

From  scarped  cliff  and  quarried  stone 
She  cries,  'A  thousand  types  are  gone  ; 
I  care  for  nothing,  all  shall  go. '  " 

All  shall  go?  No,  one  Type  remains.  "Whom  He 
did  foreknow  He  also  did  predestinate  to  be  con- 
formed to  the  Image  of  His  Son."  And  "when 
Christ  who  is  our  life  shall  appear,  then  shall  ye 
also  appear  with  Him  in  glory." 


SEMI-PARASITISM.  223 


SEMI-PARASITISM. 


"The  Situation  that  has  not  its  Duty,  its  Ideal,  was  never  yet  occu- 
pied by  man.  Yes,  here,  in  this  poor,  miserable,  hampered,  despica- 
Dle  Actual,  wherein  thou  even  now  standest,  here  or  nowhere  is  thy 
Ideal :  work  it  out  therefrom  ;  and  working,  believe,  live,  be  free."— 
Carlyle. 

"Work  out  your  own  salvation.  "—Pawi. 

"Any  new  set  of  conditions  occurring  to  an  animal  which  render 
its  food  and  safety  very  easily  attained,  seem  to  lead  as  a  rule  to 
degeneration."— £'.  Ray  Lankester. 

Parasites  are  the  paupers  of  Nature.  They  are 
forms  of  life  which  will  not  take  the  trouble  to 
find  their  own  food,  but  borrow  or  steal  it  from 
the  more  industrious.  So  deep-rooted  is  this  ten- 
dency in  Nature,  that  plants  may  become  parasitic 
— it  is  an  acquired  habit — as  well  as  animals;  and 
both  are  found  in  ev^ery  state  of  beggary,  some  do- 
ing a  little  for  themselves,  while  others,  more  ab- 
ject, refuse  even  to  prepare  their  own  food. 

There  are  certain  plants — the  Dodder,  for  in 
stance — which  begin  life  with  the  best  intentions, 
'strike  true  roots  into  the  soil,  .and  really  appear  as 
if  they  meant  to  be  independent  for  life.  But 
after  supporting  themselves  for  a  brief  period 
they  fix  curious  sucking  discs  into  the  stem  and 
branches  of  adjacent  plants.  And  after  a  little  ex- 
perimenting, the  epiphyte  finally  ceases  to  do  any- 
thing for  its  own  support,  thenceforth  drawing  all 
its  supplies  ready-made  from  the  sap  of  its  host.  In 
this  parasitic  state  it  has  no  need  for  organs  of 
nutrition  of  its  own,  and  Nature  therefore  takes 
them  away.  Henceforth,  to  the  botanist,  the  adult 
Dodder  presents  the  degraded  spectacle  of  a  plant 
without  a  root,  without  a  twig,  without  a  leaf,  and 
having  a  stem  so  useless  as  to  be  inadequate  to 
bear  its  own  weight. 


224:  SEMI-PARASITISM. 

In  the  Mistletoe  the  parasitic  liabit  has  reached 
a  stage  in  some  respects  lower  still.  It  has  persisted 
in  the  downward  course  for  so  many  generations 
that  the  young  forms  even  have  acquired  the  habit 
and  usually  begin  life  at  once  as  parasites.  The 
Mistletoe  berries,  which  contain  the  seed  of  the 
future  plant,  are  developed  especially  to  minister 
to  fhis  degeneracy,  for  they  glue  themselves  to  the 
branches  of  some  neighboring  oak  or  apple,  ana 
there  the  young  Mistletoe  starts  as  a  dependent 
from  the  rirst. 

Among  animals  these  lazzaroni  are  more  largely 
represented  still.  Almost  every  animal  is  a  living 
poor-house,  and  harbors  one  or  more  species  of 
epizoa  or  entozoa,  supplying  them  gratis,  not  only 
with  a  permanent  home,  but  with  all  the  neces- 
saries and  luxuries  of  life. 

Why  does  the  naturalist  think  liardly  of  the 
parasites?  Why  does  he  speak  of  them  as  de- 
graded, and  despise  them  as  the  most  ignoble 
creatures  in  Nature?  What  more  can  an  animal 
do  than  eat,  drink,  and  die  to-morrow?  If  under 
the  fostering  care  and  protection  of  a  higher 
organism  it  can  eat  better,  drink  more  easily,  live 
more  merrily,  and  die,  perhaps,  not  till  the  day 
after,  why  should  it  not  do  so?  Is  parasitism, 
after  all,  not  a  somewhat  clever  ruse?  Is  it  not 
an  ingenious  way  of  securing  the  benefits  of  life 
while  evading  its  responsibilities?  And  although 
this  mode  of  livelihood  is  selfish,  and  possibly  un- 
dignified, can  it  be  said  that  it  is  immoral? 

The  naturalist's  reply  to  this  is  brief.  Para- 
sitism, he  will  say,  is  one  of  the  gravest  crimes  in 
Nature.  It  is  a  breach  of  the  law  of  Evolution. 
Thou  shalt  evolve,  thou  shalt  develop  all  thy  facul- 
ties to  the  full,  thou  shalt  attain  to  the  highest 
conceivable  perfection  of  thy  race — and  so  perfect 
thy  race — this  is  the  first  and  greatest  command- 
ment of  nature.  But  the  parasite  has  no  thought 
for  its  race,  or  for  perfection  in  auy  shape  or  form. 
It  wants  two  things — food  and  shelter.  How  it 
gets  them  is  of  no  moment.     Each  member  lives 


SEMI-PARASITISM.  225 

exclusively  on  its  own  account,  an  isolated,  indo- 
lent, seltish,  and  backsliding  life. 

The  remarkable  thing  is  that  Nature  permits 
the  community  to  be  taxed  in  this  way  apparently 
without  protest.  For  the  parasite  is  a  consumer 
pure  and  simple.  And  the  "Perfect  Economy  of 
Nature"  is  surely  for  once  at  fault  when  it  en- 
courages species  numbered  by  thousands  which 
produce  nothing  for  their  own  or  for  the  general 
good,  but  live,  and  live  luxuriously,  at  the  expense 
of  others? 

Now  when  we  look  into  the  matter,  we  very  soon 
perceive  that  instead  of  secretly  countenancing 
this  ingenious  device  by  which  parasitic  animals 
and  plants  evade  the  great  law  of  the  Struggle  for 
Life,  Nature  sets  her  face  most  sternly  against  it. 
And,  instead  of  allowing  the  transgressors  to  slip 
through  her  fingers,  as  one  might  at  first  suppose, 
she  visits  upon  them  the  most  severe  and  terrible 
penalties.  The  parasite,  she  argues,  not  only  in- 
jures itself,  but  wrongs  others.  It  disobeys  the 
fundamental  law  of  its  own  being,  and  taxes  the 
innocent  to  contribute  to  its  disgrace.  So  that  if 
Nature  is  just,  if  Nature  has  an  avenging  hand, 
if  she  holds  one  vial  of  wrath  more  full  and  bitter 
than  another,  it  shall  surely  be  jDoured  out  upon 
those  who  are  guilty  of  this  double  sin.  Let  us 
see  what  form  this  punishment  takes. 

Observant  visitors  to  the  sea-side,  or  let  us  say 
to  an  aquarium,  are  familiar  with  those  curious 
little  creatures  known  as  Hermit-crabs.  The 
peculiarity  of  the  Hermits  is  that  they  take  up 
their  abode  in  the  cast-off  shell  of  some  other 
animal,  not  unusually  the  whelk;  and  here,  like 
Diogenes  in  his  tub,  the  creature  lives  a  solitary, 
but  by  no  means  an  inactive  life. 

The  Pagurus,  however,  is  not  a  parasite.  And 
yet  although  in  no  sense  of  the  word  a  parasite, 
this  way  of  inhabiting  throughout  life  a  house 
built  by  another  animal  approaches  so  closely  the 
parasitic  habit,  that  we  shall  find  it  instructive  as 
a  preliminary  illustration,  to  consider  the  effect 
of  this  free-house  policy  on  the  occupant.     There 


226  SEMI-PARASITISM. 

is  no  doubt,  to  begin  with,  that,  as  has  been  already 
indicated,  the  habit  is  an  acquired  one.  In  its 
general  anatomy  the  Hermit  is  essentially  a  crab. 
JSTow  the  crab  is  an  animal  which,  from  the  nature 
of  its  environment,  has  to  lead  a  somewhat  rough 
and  perilous  life.  Its  days  are  spent  among 
jagged  rocks  and  boulders.  Dashed  about  by  every 
wave,  attacked  on  every  side  by  monsters  of  the 
deep,  the  crustacean  has  to  protect  itself  by  devel- 
oping a  strong  and  serviceable  coat  of  mail. 

How  best  to  protect  themselves  has  been  the 
problem  to  which  the  whole  crab  family  have  ad- 
dressed themselves;  and,  in  considering  the  mat- 
ter, the  ancestors  of  the  Hermit-crab  hit  on  the 
happy  device  of  re-utilizing  the  habitations  of  the 
molluscs  which  lay  around  them  in  plenty,  well- 
built,  and  ready  for  immediate  occupation.  For 
generations  and  generations  accordingly,  the  Her- 
mit-crab has  ceased  to  exercise  itself  upon  questions 
of  safety,  and  dwells  in  its  little  shell  as  proudly 
and  securely  as  if  its  second-hand  house  were  a 
fortress  erected  especially  for  its  private  use. 

"Wherein,  then,  has  the  Hermit  suffered  for  this 
cheap,  but  real  solution  of  a  practical  difficulty? 
Whether  its  laziness  costs  it  any  moral  qualms,  or 
whether  its  cleverness  becomes  to  it  a  source  of 
congratulation,  we  do  not  know;  but  judged  from 
t  he  appearance  the  animal  makes  under  the  search- 
ing gaze  of  the  zoologist,  its  expedient  is  certainly 
not  one  to  be  commended.  To  the  eye  of  Science 
its  sin  is  written  in  the  plainest  characters  on  its 
very  organization.  It  has  suffered  in  its  own  ana- 
tomical structure  just  by  as  much  as  it  has  bor- 
rowed from  an  external  source.  Instead  of  being  a 
perfect  crustacean  it  has  allowed  certain  important 
parts  of  its  body  to  deteriorate.  And  several  vital 
organs  are  partially  or  wholly  atrophied. 

Its  sphere  of  life  also  is  now  seriously  limited; 
and  by  a  cheap  expedient  to  secure  safety,  it  has 
fatallji  lost  its  independence.  It  is  plain  from  its 
anatomy  that  the  Hermit-crab  was  not  always  a 
Hermit-crab.  It  was  meant  for  higher  things. 
Its  ancestors  doubtless  were  more  or  less  perfect 


SEMI-PARASITISM.  22? 

frustaceans,  thougli  what  exact  stage  of  develop- 
ment was  reached  before  the  hermit  habit  became 
tixed  in  the  species  we  cannot  telL  But  from  the 
moment  the  creature  took  to  relying  on  an  exter- 
nal source,  it  began  to  fall.  It  slowly  lost  in  its  own 
person  all  that  it  now  draws  from  external  aid. 

As  an  important  item  in  the  day's  work, 
namely.,  the  securing  of  safety  and  shelter,  was  now 
guaranteed  to  it,  one  of  the  chief  inducements  to 
a  life  of  high  and  vigilant  effort  was  at  the  same 
time  withdrawn.  A  number  of  functions,  in  fact, 
struck  work.  The  whole  of  the  parts,  therefore, 
of  the  complex  organism  which  ministered  to 
these  functions,  from  lack  of  exercise,  or  total  dis- 
use, became  gradually  feeble;  and  ultimately,  by 
the  stern  law  that  an  unused  organ  must  suffer  a 
slow  but  inevitable  atrophy,  the  creature  not  only 
lost  all  power  of  motion  in  these  parts,  but  lost  the 
parts  themselves,  and  otherwise  sank  into  a  rela- 
tively degenerate  condition. 

Every  normal  crustacean,  on  the  other  hand,  has 
the  abdominal  region  of  the  body  covered  by  a  thick 
chitinous  shell.  In  the  Hermits  this  is  represented 
only  by  a  thin  and  delicate  membrane — of  which 
the  sorry  figure  the  creature  cuts  when  drawn  from 
its  foreign  hiding-place  is  sufficient  evidence. 
Any  one  who  now  examines  further  this  half -naked 
and  woe-begone  object,  will  perceive  also  that  the 
fourth  and  fifth  pair  of  limbs  are  either  so  small 
and  wasted  as  to  be  quite  useless  or  altogether 
rudimentary;  and,  although  certainly  the  addi- 
tional development  of  the  extremity  of  the  tail  into 
an  organ  for  holding  on  to  its  extemporized  retreat 
may  be  regarded  as  a  slight  compensation,  it  is 
clear  from  the  whole  structure  of  the  animal  that 
it  has  allowed  itself  to  undergo  severe  Degenera- 
tion. 

In  dealing  with  the  Hermit-crab,  in  short,  we  are 
dealing  with  a  case  of  physiological  backsliding. 
That  tlie  creature  has  lost  anything  by  this  process 
from  a  practical  point  of  view  is  not  now  argued. 
It  might  fairly  be  shown,  as  already  indicated, 
that  its  freedom  is  impaired  by  its  cumbrous  eko- 


328  SEMI-PAKASITISM. 

skeleton,  and  tliat,  in  contrast  with  otlier  crabs, 
who  lead  a  free  and  roving  life,  its  independence 
generally  is  greatly  limited.  But  from  the  physi- 
ological standpoint,  there  is  no  question  that  the 
Hermit  tribe  have  neither  discharged  their  respon- 
sibilities to  Nature  nor  to  themselves.  If  the  end 
of  life  is  merely  to  escape  death,  and  serve  them- 
selves, possibly  they  have  done  well;  but  if  it  is  to 
attain  an  ever  increasing  }K'rfection,  then  are  they 
backsliders  indeed. 

A  zoologist's  verdict  would  be  that  by  this  act 
they  have  forfeited  to  some  extent  their  place  in 
the  animal  scale.  An  animal  is  classed  as  a  low  or 
high  according  as  it  is  adapted  to  less  or  more 
complex  conditions  of  life.  This  is  the  true  stand' 
point  from  which  to  judge  all  living  organisms. 
Were  perfection  merely  a  matter  of  continual  eat-. 
ing  and  drinking,  the  4-iiioeba — the  lowest  known 
organism — might  take  rank  with  the  highest,  Man, 
for  the  one  nourishes  itself  and  saves  its  skin 
almost  as  completely  as  the  other.  But  judged 
by  the  higher  standard  of  Complexity,  that  is,  by 
greater  or  lesser  adaption  to  more  or  less  complex 
conditions,  the  gulf  between  them  is  infinite. 

We  have  now  received  a  preliminary  idea, 
although  not  from  the  study  of  a  true  parasite,  of 
the  essential  j)rinciples  involved  in  parasitism. 
And  we  may  proceed  to  point  out  the  correlative 
in  the  moral  and  spiritual  spheres.  We  confine 
ourselves  for  the  present  to  one  point.  The  differ- 
ence between  the  Hermit-crab  and  a  true  parasite 
is,  that  the  former  has  acquired  a  semi-parasitic 
habit  only  Avith  reference  to  safety.  It  may  be 
that  the  Hermit  devours  as  a  preliminary  the  ac- 
commodating mollusc  whose  tenement  it  covets; 
but  it  would  become  a  real  parasite  only  on  the 
supposition  that  the  whelk  was  of  such  size  as  to 
keep  providing  for  it  throughout  life,  and  that  the 
external  and  interual  organs  of  the  crab  should 
disappear,  while  it  lived  henceforth,  by  simple 
imbibition,  u})on  the  elaborated  juices  of  its  host. 
All  the  mollusc  provides,  however,  for  the  crusta- 
cean in  this  instance  is  safety,  and,  accordingly 


SEMI-PARASITISM.  22  J 

in  tlie  maantime  we  limit  our  application  to  this. 
The  true  parasite  presents  us  with  an  organism  so 
much  more  degraded  in  all  its  parts,  that  its  les- 
sons may  well  be  reserved  until  we  have  paved  the 
way  to  understand  tlie  deeper  bearings  of  the  sub- 
ject. 

The  spiritual  principle  to  be  illustrated  in  the 
meantime  stands  thus:  Any  iwincipU  which  se- 
cures the  safety  of  the  individual  without  personal 
effort  or  the  vital  exercise  of  faculty  is  disastrous 
fi)  moral  character.  We  do  not  begin  by  attempting 
to  define  words.  \¥ere  we  to  define  truly  what  is 
meant  by  safety  or  salvation,  we  should  be  spared 
further  elaboration,  and  the  law  would  stand  out 
as  a  sententious  common-place.  But  we  have  to 
deal  with  the  ideas  of  safety  as  these  are  popularly 
held,  and  the  chief  purpose  at  this  stage  is  to  ex- 
pose what  may  be  called  the  Parasitic  Doctrine  of 
Salvation.  The  phases  of  religious  experience 
about  to  be  described  may  be  unknown  to  many. 
It  remains  for  those  who  are  familiar  with  the 
religious  conceptions  of  the  masses  to  determine 
whether  or  not  we  are  wasting  words. 

What  is  meant  by  the  Parasitic  Doctrine  of  Sal- 
vation one  ma}^  perhaps,  best  explain  by  sketching 
two  of  its  leading  t}^oes.  The  first  is  the  doctrine 
of  the  Church  of  Rome;  the  second,  that  repre- 
sented by  the  narrower  Evangelical  Eeligion.  We 
take  these  religions,  however,  not  in  their  ideal 
form,  with  which  possibly  we  should  have  little 
quarrel,  but  in  their  practical  working,  or  in  the 
form  in  which  they  are  held  especially  by  the  rank 
and  file  of  those  who  belong  respectively  to  these 
communions.  For  the  strength  or  weakness  of 
any  religious  system  is  best  Judged  from  the  form 
in  which  it  presents  itself  to,  and  influences  the 
common  mind. 

No  more  perfect  or  more  sad  example  of  semi- 
parasitism  exists  than  in  the  case  of  those  illiterate 
thousands  who,  scattered  everywhere  throughout 
the  habitable  globe,  swell  the  lower  ranks  of  the 
Church  of  Rome.  Had  an  organization  been 
specially  designed,  indeed,  to  induce  the  parasitic 


230  SEMI-PARASITISM. 

habit  in  the  souls  of  men,  nothing  better  fitted  to 
its  disastrous  end  could  be  established  than  the 
system  of  Eoman  Catholicism.  Eonian  Cathol- 
icism offers  to  the  masses  a  molluscan  shell.  They 
have  simply  to  shelter  themselves  within  its  pale", 
and  they  are  ''safe."  But  what  is  this  "safe?" 
It  is  an  external  safety — the  safety  of  an  institu- 
tion. It  is  a  salvation  recommended  to  men  by  all 
that  appeals  to  the  motives  in  most  common  use 
with  the  vulgar  and  the  superstitious,  but  which 
has  as  little  vital  connection  with  the  individual 
soul  as  the  dead  whelk's  shell  with  the  living 
Hermit.  Salvation  is  a  relation  at  once  vital,  per- 
sonal, and  spiritual.  This  is  mechanical  and 
purely  external.  And  this  is  of  course  the  final 
secret  of  its  marvelous  success  and  world-wide 
power.  A  cheap  religion  is  the  desideratum  of 
the  human  heart;  and  an  assurance  of  salvation  af 
the  smallest  possible  cost  forms  the  tempting  bait 
held  out  to  a  conscience-stricken  world  by  the 
Eomish  Church.  Thousands,  therefore,  who  have 
never  been  taught  to  use  their  faculties  in  "work- 
ing out  their  own  salvation,"  thousands  who  will 
not  exercise  themselves  religiously,  and  who  yet 
cannot  be  without  the  exercise  of  religion,  intrust 
themselves  in  idle  faith  to  that  venerable  house  of 
refuge  which  for  centuries  has  stood  between  God 
and  man.  A  Church  which  has  harbored  genera- 
tions of  the  elect,  whose  archives  enshrine  the 
names  of  saints  whose  foundations  are  consecrated 
with  martyrs'  blood — shall  it  not  afford  a  sure 
asylum  still  for  any  soul  which  would  make  its 
peace  with  God?  So,  as  the  Hermit  into  the 
molluscan  shell,  creeps  the  poor  soul  within  the 
pale  of  Eome,  seeking,  like  Adam  in  the  garden, 
to  hide  its  nakedness  from  God. 

Why  does  the  true  lover  of  men  restrain  not  his 
lips  in  warning  his  fellows  against  this  and  all 
other  priestly  religions?  It  is  not  because  he  fails 
to  see  the  prodigious  energy  of  the  Papal  See,  or  to 
appreciate  the  many  noble  types  of  Christian  man- 
hood nurtured  within  its  pale.  Nor  is  it  because 
its  teachers  are  often  corrupt  and  its  system  of 


SEMI-PARASITISM.  231 

doctrine  iuadequate  as  a  representation  of  the 
Truth — charges  which  have  to  bo  made  more  or 
less  against  all  religions.  But  it  is  because  it  min- 
isters falsely  to  the  deepest  need  of  man,  reduces 
the  end  of  religion  to  selfishness,  and  offers  safety 
without  spirituality.  That  these,  theoretically, 
are  its  pretensions,  we  do  not  affirm;  but  that  its 
practical  working  is  to  induce  in  man,  and  in  its 
worst  forms,  the  parasitic  habit,  is  testified  by  re- 
sults. "No  one  who  has  studied  the  religion  of  the 
Continent  upon  the  spot,  has  failed  to  be  impressed 
with  the  appalling  spectacle  of  tens  of  thousands 
of  unregenerated  men  sheltering  themselves,  as 
they  conceive  it  for  Eternity,  behind  the  Sacra- 
ments of  Eome. 

There  is  no  stronger  evidence  of  the  inborn 
parasitic  tendency  in  man  in  things  religious  than 
th3  absolute  complacency  with  which  even  cultured 
men  will  hand  over  their  eternal  interests  to  the 
care  of  a  Church.  We  can  never  dismiss  from 
memory  the  sadness  with  which  we  once  listened 
to  the  confession  of  a  certain  foreign  professor:  "I 
used  to  be  concerned  about  religion,"  he  said  in 
substance,  "but  religion  is  a  great  subject,  I  was 
very  busy;  there  was  little  time  to  settle  it  for 
myself.  A  protestant,  my  attention  was  called  to 
the  Eoman  Catholic  religion.  It  suited  my  case. 
And  instead  of  dabbling  in  religion  for  myself  I 
put  myself  in  its  hands.  Once  a  year,"  he  con- 
cluded, "I  go  to  mass."  These  were  the  words  of 
one  whose  work  will  live  in  the  history  of  his 
country,  one,  too,  who  knew  all  about  parasitism. 
Yet,  though  he  thought  it  not,  this  is  parasitism 
in  its  worst  and  most  degrading  form.  Nor,  in 
spite  of  its  intellectual,  not  to  say  moral  sin,  is 
this  an  extreme  or  exceptional  case.  It  is  a  case, 
which  is  being  duplicated  every  day  in  our  own 
country,  only  here  the  confessing  is  expressed  with 
a  candor  which  is  rare  in  company  with  actions 
betraying  so  signally  the  want  of  it. 

The  form  of  parasitism  exhibited  by  a  certain 
section  of  the  narrower  Evangelical  school  is  alto- 
gether different  from  that  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 


232  SEMI-PARASITISM. 

The  parasite  in  this  case  seeks  its  shelter,  not  in 
a  Church,  but  in  a  Doctrine  or  a  Creed.  Let  it 
be  observed  again  that  we  are  not  dealing  with  the 
Evangelical  Religion,  but  only  with  one  of  its  par- 
asitic forms — a  form  which  Avill  at  once  be  recog- 
nized by  all  who  know  the  popular  Protestantism  of 
this  country.  We  confine  ourselves  also  at  present 
to  that  form  which  finds  its  encouragement  in  a 
single  doctrine,  that  doctrine  being  the  Doctrine 
of  the  Atonement — let  us  say,  rather,  a  perverted 
form  of  this  central  truth. 

The  perverted  Doctrine  of  the  Atonement, 
which  tends  to  beget  the  parasitic  habit,  may  be 
defined  in  a  single  sentence — it  is  very  much  be- 
cause it  can  be  defined  in  a  single  sentence  that  it 
is  a  perversion.  Let  us  state  it  in  a  concrete  form. 
It  is  put  to  the  individual  in  the  following  syllo- 
gism: "You  believe  Christ  died  for  sinners;  you  are 
a  sinner;  therefore  Christ  died  for  you;  and  hence 
you  are  saved.'' ^  Now  what  is  this  but  another 
species  of  molluscan  shell?  Could  any  trap  for  a 
benighted  soul  be  more  ingeniously  planned?  It 
is  not  superstition  that  is  appealed  to  this  time;  it  is 
reason.  The  agitated  soul  is  invited  to  creep  into 
the  convolutions  of  a  syllogism,  and  entrench  itself 
behind  a  Doctrine  more  venerable  even  than  the 
Church.  But  words  are  mere  chitine.  Doctrines 
may  have  no  more  vital  contact  with  the  soul  than 
priest  or  sacrament,  no  further  influence  on  life 
and  character  than  stone  and  lime.  And  yet  the 
apostles  of  parasitism  pick  a  blackguard  from  the 
streets,  pass  him  through  this  plausible  formula, 
and  turn  him  out  a  convert  in  the  space  of  as 
many  minutes  as  it  takes  to  tell  it. 

The  zeal  of  these  men,  assuredly,  is  not  to  be 
questioned:  their  instincts  are  right,  and  their 
work  is  often  not  in  vain.  It  is  possible,  too,  up 
to  a  certain  point,  to  defend  this  Salvation  by 
Formula.  Are  these  not  the  very  words  of  Scrip- 
ture? Did  not  Christ  Himself  say,  "It  is 
finished?"  And  is  it  not  written,  "By  grace  are 
ye  saved  through  faith,"  "Not  of  works,  lest  any 
man  should  boast,"  and  "He  that  believeth  on 


SEMI-PAKASinSM.  233 

the  Son  hath  everlasting  life?"  To  which, 
however,  one  might  also  answer  in  the  words  of 
Scriptnre,  "The  Devils  also  believe,"  and 
"Except  a  man  be  born  again  he  cannot  see  the 
Kingdom  of  God."  But  without  seeming  to 
make  text  refute  text,  let  us  ask  rather  what 
the  supposed  convert  possesses  at  the  end  of  tlie 
process.  That  Christ  saves  sinners,  even  black- 
guards from  the  streets,  is  a  great  fact;  and  that 
the  simple  words  of  the  street  evangelist  do  some- 
times bring  this  home  to  man  with  convincing 
power  is  also  a  fact.  But  in  ordinary  circum- 
stances, when  the  inquirer's  mind  is  rapidly  urged 
through  the  various  stages  of  the  above  piece  of 
logic,  he  is  left  to  face  the  future  and  blot  out 
the  past  with  a  formula  of  words. 

To  be  sure  these  words  may  already  convey  a 
germ  of  truth,  they  may  yet  be  filled  in  with  a 
wealth  of  meaning  and  become  a  lifelong  power. 
But  we  would  state  the  case  against  Salvation  by 
Formula  w^ith  ignorant  and  unwarranted  clemency 
did  w^e  for  a  moment  convey  the  idea  that  this  is 
always  the  actual  result.  The  doctrine  plays  too 
well  into  tlie  hands  of  the  parasitic  tendency  to 
niake  it  possible  that  in  more  than  a  minority  of 
cases  the  result  is  anything  but  disastrous.  And 
it  is  disastrous  not  in  that,  sooner  or  later,  after 
losing  half  tlieir  lives,  those  who  rely  on  the 
naked  syllogism  come  to  see  their  mistake,  but  in 
that  thousands  never  come  to  see  it  all.  Are 
there  not  men  who  can  j)rove  to  you  and  to  the 
world,  by  the  irresistible  logic  of  texts,  that  they 
are  saved,  whom  you  know  to  be  not  only  un- 
worthy of  the  Kingdom  of  God — w^hicli  we  all  are 
— but  absolutely  incapable  of  entering  it?  The 
condition  of  membership  in  the  Kingdom  of  God 
is  well  know^i;  who  fulfill  this  condition  and  who 
do  not,  is  not  well  know^n.  And  yet  the  moral 
test,  in  spite  of  the  difficulty  of  its  applications, 
will  always,  and  rightly,  be  preferred  by  the  w^orld 
to  the  theological.  Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  the 
world's  verdict,  the  parasite  is  content.  He  is 
"safe."     Years  ago  his  mind  worked  through  a 


234  SEMI-PAKASITISM. 

certain  cliain  of  phrases  in  which  the  words 
"believe"  and  '"saved"  were  the  consj)icuous  terms. 
And  from  that  moment,  by  all  Scriptures,  by  all 
logic,  and  by  all  theology,  his  future  was  guaran- 
teed. He  took  out,  in  short,  an  insurance  policy, 
by  which  he  was  infallibly  secured  eternal  life  at 
death.  This  is  not  a  matter  to  make  light  of. 
AYe  wish  we  were  caricaturing  instead  of  repre- 
senting things  as  they  are.  But  we  carry  with  us 
all  who  intimately  know  the  spiritual  condition 
of  the  Narrow  Church  in  asserting  that  in  some 
cases  at  least  its  members  have  nothing  more  to 
show  for  their  religion  than  a  formula,  a  syl- 
logism, a  cant  phrase  or  an  experience  of  some 
kind  which  happened  long  ago,  and  which  men 
told  them  at  the  time  was  called  Salvation. 
Need  we  proceed  to  formulate  objections  to  the 
parasitism  of  Evangelicism?  Between  it  and  the 
Keligion  of  the  Church  of  Rome  there  is  an  affin- 
ity as  real  as  it  is  unsuspected.  For  one  thing 
these  religions  are  spiritually  disastrous  as  well  as 
theologically  erroneous  in  propagating  a  false 
conception  of  Christianity.  The  fundamental 
idea  alike  of  the  extreme  Eoman  Catholic  and 
extreme  Evangelical  Eeligions  is  Escape.  Man's 
chief  end  is  to  "get  off."  And  all  factors  in 
religion,  the  highest  and  most  sacred,  are  degraded 
to  this  level.  God,  for  example,  is  a  Great 
Lawyer.  Or  He  is  the  Almighty  Enemy;  it  is 
from  Him  we  have  to  "get  off."  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  One  who  gets  us  off — a  theological  figure  who 
contrives  so  to  adjust  matters  federally  that  the 
way  is  clear.  The  Church  in  the  one  instance  is 
a  kind  of  conveyancing  office  where  the  transac- 
tion is  duly  concluded,  each  party  accepting  the 
others'  terms;  in  the  other  case,  a  species  of 
sheep-pen  where  the  flock  awaits  impatiently  and 
indolently  the  final  consummation.  Generally,  the 
means  are  mistaken  for  the  end,  and  the  opening- 
up  of  the  possibility  of  spiritual  growth  becomes 
the  signal  to  stop  growing. 

Second,  these  being  cheap  religions,  are  inev- 
itably accompanied  by  a  cheap  life.     Safety  beiug 


SEMI-PARASITISM.  285 

guaranteed  from  the  first,  there  remains  nothing 
else  to  be  done.  The  mechanical  way  in  which 
the  transaction  is  effected,  leaves  the  soul  without 
stimulus,  and  the  character  remains  untouched 
by  the  moral  aspects  of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ. 
He  who  is  unjust  is  unjust  still;  he  who  is  unholy 
is  unholy  still.  Thus  the  whole  scheme  ministers 
to  the  Degeneration  of  Organs.  For  here,  again, 
by  just  as  much  as  the  organism  borrows  mechan- 
ically from  an  external  source,  by  so  much  exactly 
does  it  lose  in  its  own  organization.  Whatever 
rest  is  provided  by  Christianity  for  the  children 
of  God,  it  is  certainly  never  contemplated  that  it 
should  supersede  personal  effort.  And  any  rest 
which  ministers  to  indifference  is  immoral  and 
unreal — it  makes  parasites  and  not  men.  Just 
because  God  worketh  in  him,  as  the  evidence  and 
triumph  of  it,  the  true  child  of  God  works  out  his 
own  salvation — works  it  out  having  really  I'eceived 
it — not  as  a  light  thing,  a  superfluous  labor,  but 
with  fear  and  trembling  as  a  reasonable  and 
indispensable  service. 

If  it  be  asked,  then,  shall  the  parasite  be  saved 
or  shall  he  not,  the  answer  is  that  the  idea  of  sal- 
vation conveyed  by  the  question  makes  a  reply 
all  but  hopeless.  But  if  by  salvation  is  meant,  a 
trusting  in  Christ  in  order  to  likeness  to  Christ,  in 
order  to  that  holiness  without  which  oo  man  shall 
see  the  Lord,  the  reply  is  that  the  parasite's  hope 
is  absolutely  vain.  So  far  from  ministering  to 
growth,  parasitism  ministers  to  decay.  So  far 
from  ministering  to  holiness,  that  is  to  wholeness, 
parasitism  ministers  to  exactly  the  opposite.  One 
by  one  the  spiritual  faculties  droop  and  die,  one 
by  one  from  lack  of  exercise  the  muscles  of  the 
soul  grow  weak  and  flaccid,  one  by  one  the  moral 
activities  cease.  So  from  him  that  hath  not,  is 
taken  away  that  which  he  hath,  and  after  a  few 
years  of  parasitism  there  is  nothing  left  to  save. 

If  our  meaning  up  to  this  point  has  been  suffi- 
ciently obscure  to  make  the  objection  now 
possil)le  that  this  protest  against  Parasitism  is 
opposed  to  the  doctrines  of  Free  Grace,  we  cannot 


236  SEMI-PARASITISM. 

hope  in  a  closing  sentence  to  free  the  argument 
from  a  suspicion  so  ill-judged.  The  adjustment 
betvveeu  Faith  and  Works  does  not  fall  within 
our  province  now.  Salvation  truly  is  the  free  gift 
of  God,  but  he  Avho  really  knows  how  much  this 
means  knows — and  just  because  it  means  so  much 
— how  much  of  consequent  action  it  involves. 
With  the  central  doctrines  of  grace  the  whole 
scientific  argument  is  in  too  wonderful  harmony 
to  be  found  wanting  here.  The  natural  life,  nO' 
less  than  the  eternal,  is  the  gift  of  God.  But  life 
in  either  case  is  the  beginning  of  growth  and  not 
the  end  of  grace.  To  pause  where  we  should 
begin,  to  retrograde  where  we  should  advance,  to 
seek  a  mechanical  security  that  we  may  cover 
inertia  and  find  a  wholesale  salvation  in  which 
there  is  no  personal  sanctification — this  is  Parasit- 
ism. 


PAliASlTlSM.  'ZSI 


PARASITISM. 


"And  80  I  live,  you  see. 
Go  through  the  world,  try,  prove,  reject, 
Prefer,  still  struggling  to  effect 
My  warfare  ;  happy  that  I  can 
Be  crossed  and  thwarted  as  a  man, 
Not  left  in  God's  contempt  apart. 
With  ghastly  smooth  life,  dead  at  heart. 
Tame  in  earth's  paddock  as  her  prize. 

Thank  God,  no  paradise  stands  barred 

To  entry,  and  I  find  it  hard 

To  be  a  Christian,  as  I  said."— Srowwiny. 

"Work  out  your  own  salvation." — Paul. 

"Be  no  longer  a  chaos,  but  a  World,  or  even  Worldkin.  Produce  1 
Produce  !  Were  it  but  the  pitifullest  infinitesmal  fraction  of  a  Pra- 
duct,  produce  it,  in  God's  name  V'—Carlyle. 

From  a  study  of  the  habits  and  organization  of 
the  family  of  Hermit-crabs  we  have  ah-eady  gained 
some  insight  into  tlie  nature  and  eilects  of 
parasitism.  But  the  Hermit-crab,  be  it  remem- 
bered, is  in  no  real  sense  a  parasite.  And  before 
we  can  apply  the  general  principle  further  we 
must  address  ourselves  briefly  to  the  examination 
of  a  true  case  of  parasitism. 

We  have  not  far  to  seek.  Within  the  body  of 
the  Hermit-crab  a  minute  organism  may  frequently 
be  discovered  resembling,  when  magnified,  a 
miniature  kidney-bean.  A  bunch  of  root-like 
processes  hangs  from  one  side,  and  the  extremities 
of  these  are  seen  to  ramify  in  delicate  films 
through  the  living  tissues  of  the  crab.  This 
simple  organism  is  known  to  the  naturalist  as  a 
Saeculina;  and  though  a  full-grown  animal,  it 
consists  of  no  more  parts  than  those  just  named. 
Xot  a  trace  of  structure  is  to  be  detected  witLiiv 
this  rude  and  all  but  iininimate  frame;  it  possessec 


238  PARASITISM. 

neither  legs,  nor  eyes,  nor  mouth,  nor  throat,  nor 
stomach,  nor  any  other  organs,  external  or  inter- 
nal. This  Sacculina  is  a  typical  parasite.  By 
means  of  its  twining  and  theftuous  roots  it  imbibes 
automatically  its  nourishment  ready-prepared  from 
the  body  of  the  crab.  It  boards  indeed  entirely 
at  the  expense  of  its  host,  who  supplies  it  liberally 
with  food  and  shelter  and  everything  else  it  wants. 
So  far  as  the  result  to  itself  is  concerned  this 
arrangement  may  seem  at  first  sight  satisfactory 
enough;  but  when  we  inquire  into  the  life  history 
of  this  small  creature  we  unearth  a  career  of 
degeneracy  all  but  unparalleled  in  nature. 

The  most  certain  clue  to  what  nature  meant 
any  animal  to  become  is  to  be  learned  from  its 
embryology.  Let  us,  therefore,  examine  for  a 
moment  the  earliest  positive  stage  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  Sacculina.  When  the  embryo  first 
makes  its  appearance  it  bears  not  the  remotest 
resemblance  to  the  adult  animal.  A  different 
name  even  is  given  to  it  by  the  biologist,  who 
knows  it  at  this  period  as  a  Nauplius.  This 
minute  organism  has  an  oval  body,  supplied  with 
six  well-jointed  feet  by  means  of  which  it  paddles 
briskly  through  the  water.  For  a  time  it  leads  an 
active  and  independent  life,  industriously  securing 
its  own  food  and  escaping  enemies  by  its  own 
gallantry.  But  soon  a  change  takes  place.  The 
hereditary  taint  of  parasitism  is  in  its  blood,  and 
it  proceeds  to  adapt  itself  to  the  pauper  habits  of 
its  race.  The  tiny  body  first  doubles  in  upon 
itself,  and  from  the  two  front  limbs  elongated 
filaments  protrude.  Its  four  hind  limbs  entirely 
disappear,  and  twelve  short-forked  swimming 
organs  temporarily  take  their  place.  Thus  strange- 
ly metamorphosed  the  Sacculina  sets  out  in  search 
of  a  suitable  host,  and  in  an  evil  hour,  by  that  fate 
which  is  always  ready  to  accommodate  the  trans- 
gressor, is  thrown  into  the  company  of  the 
Hermit-crab.  With  its  two  filamentary  processes 
• — which  afterward  develop  into  the  root-like 
organs — it  penetrates  the  body ;  the  sac-like  form 
is  gradually  assumed;  the  Avhole  of  the  swimining 


PARASITISM.  239 

feet  drop  off — they  will  never  be  needed  again — 
and  the  animal  settles  down  for  the  rest  of  its  life 
as  a  parasite. 

One  reason  which  makes  a  zoologist  certain 
that  the  Sacculina  is  a  degenerate  type  is,  that  in 
almost  all  other  instances  of  anim.als  which  begin 
life  in  the  Nauplius-form — and  there  are  several 
— the  Nauplius  develops  through  higher  and 
higher  stages,  and  arrives  finally  at  the  high 
perfection  displayed  by  the  shrimp,  lobster,  crab, 
and  other  crustaceans.  But  instead  of  rising  to 
its  opportunities,  the  sacculine  Nauplius  having 
reached  a  certain  point  turned  back.  It  shrunk 
from  the  struggle  for  life,  and  beginning  probably 
by  seeking  shelter  from  its  host  went  on  to 
demand  its  food;  and  so  falling  from  bad  to 
worse,  became  in  time  an  entire  dependant. 

In  the  eyes  of  Nature  this  was  a  twofold  crime. 
It  was  first  a  disregard  of  evolution,  and  second, 
which  is  practically  the  same  thing,  an  evasion  of 
the   great   law   of   work.     And    the    revenge    of 
Nature  was   therefore   necessary.      It   could   not 
help  punishing  the  Sacculina   for  violated   law, 
and  the   punishment,   according  to   the   strange 
and   noteworthy   way   in   which    Nature   usually 
punishes,  was    meted   out  by  natural  processes, 
carried    on   within    its    own    organization.      Its 
punishment  was  simply  that  it  was  a  Sacculina — 
that  it  was  a  Sacculina  when  it  might  have  been 
a   Crustacean.      Instead    of    being    a    free    and 
independent  organism  high  in  structure,  original 
in  action,  vital  with  energy,  it  deteriorated  into 
a  torpid  and  all  but  amoi'phous  sac  confined  to 
perpetual  imprisonment  and  doomed  to  a  living 
death.     "Any  new  set  of  conditions,"  says  Eay 
Lankester,  "occurring  to  an  animal  which  render 
its  food  and  safety  very  easily  attained,  seem  to 
lead  as  a  rule  to  degeneration;  just  as  an  active 
healthy   man     sometimes     degenerates    when   he 
becomes  suddenly  possessed  of  a  fortune;    or  as 
Kome  degenerated  when  possessed  of  the  riches  of 
the    ancient    world.      The   habit    of    parasitism 
clearly  acts  upon  animal  organization  in  this  way. 


240  PARASITISM. 

Let  the  parasitic  life  once  be  secured,  and  awa} 
go  legs,  jawS;,  eyes,  and  ears;  the  active,  highly- 
gifted  crab,  insect  or  annelid  may  become  a  mere 
sac,  absorbing  nourishment  and  laying  eggs."* 

There  could  be  no  more  impressive  illustration 
than  this  of  what  with  entire  upjiropriateness  one 
might  call  "the  physiology  of  backsliding."  We 
fail  to  appreciate  the  meaning  of  spiritual  degen- 
eration or  detect  the  terrible  nature  of  the  conse- 
quences only  because  they  evade  the  eye  of  sense. 
But  could  we  investigate  the  spirit  as  a  living  or- 
ganism, or  study  the  soul  of  the  backslider  on 
principles  of  comparative  anatomy,  we  should 
have  a  revelation  of  the  organic  effects  of  sin,  even 
of  the  mere  sin  of  carelessness  as  to  growth  and 
work,  which  must  revolutionize  our  ideas  of 
practical  religion.  There  is  no  room  for  the 
doubt  even  that  what  goes  on  in  the  body  does  not 
with  equal  certainty  take  place  in  the  spirit  under 
the  corresponding  conditions. 

The  penalty  of  backsliding  is  not  something  un- 
real and  vague,  some  unknown  quantity  which  may 
be  measured  out  to  us  disproportionately,  or  which 
perchance,  since  God  is  good,  we  may  altogether 
evade.  The  consequences  are  already  marked  with- 
in the  structure  of  the  soul.  So  to  speak,  they  are 
physiological.  The  thing  affected  by  our  indiifer- 
ence  or  by  our  indulgence  is  not  the  book  of  final 
judgment  but  the  present  fabric  of  the  soul.  The 
punishment  of  degeneration  is  simply  degenera- 
tion— the  loss  of  functions,  the  decay  of  organs, 
the  atrophy  of  the  spiritual  nature.  It  is  well 
known  that  the  i-ecovery  of  the  backslider  is  one 
of  the  hardest  problems  in  spiritual  work.  To 
reinvigorate  an  old  organ  seems  more  difiicult  and 
hopeless  than  to  develop  a  new  one;  and  the  back- 
slider's terrible  lot  is  to  have  to  retrace  with  en- 
feebled feet  each  step  of  the  way  along  which  he 
strayed;  to  make  up  incli  by  inch  the  lee-way  he 
has  lost,  carrying  with  him  a  dead-weight  of  ac  > 
quired  reluctance,  and  scarce  knowing  whether 

•  "Degeneration,"  by  E,  Ray  Lankester,  p.  33. 


PARASITISM.  21  . 

to  be  stimulated  or  discouraged  by  the  oppressive 
memory  of  the  previous  fall, 

AVe  are  not.  however,  to  discuss  at  present  the 
physiology  of  backsliding.  Nor  need  we  point  out 
at  greater  length  tliat  parasitism  is  always  and  in- 
dissolubly  accompanied  by  degeneration.  We 
wish  rather  to  examine  one  or  two  leading  tenden- 
cies of  the  modern  religious  life  which  directly  or 
indirectly  induce  the  parasitic  habit  and  bring 
upon  thousands  of  unsuspecting  victims  such  se- 
cret and  appalling  penalties  as  "have  been  named. 

Two  main  causes  are  known  to  the  biologist  as 
tending  to  induce  the  parasitic  habit.  These  are, 
first,  the  temptation  to  secure  safety  without  the 
vital  exercise  of  faculties,  and,  second,  the  dispo- 
sition to  find  food  without  earning  it.  The  first, 
which  we  have  formally  considered,  is  probably 
the  preliminary  stage  in  most  cases.  The  animal, 
seeking  shelter,  finds  unexpectedly  that  it  can  also 
thereby  gain  a  certain  measure  of  food.  Com- 
pelled in  the  first  instance,  perhaps  by  stress  of 
circumstances,  to  rob  its  host  of  a  meal  or  perish, 
it  gradually  acquires  the  habit  of  drawing  all  its 
supplies  from  the  same  source,  and  thus  becomes 
in_  time  a  confirmed  parasite.  Whatever  be  its 
origin,  however,  it  is  certian  that  the  main  evil  of 
parasitism  is  connected  with  the  further  question 
of  food.  Mere  safety  with  N'ature  is  a  secondary, 
though  by  no  means  an  insignificant,  consideration. 
And  while  the  organism  forfeits  a  part  of  its  or- 
ganization by  any  method  of  evading  enemies 
which  demands  no  personal  effort,  the  most  entire 
degeneration  of  the  whole  system  follows  the  neg- 
lect or  abuse  of  the  functions  of  nutrition. 

The  direction  in  which  we  have  to  seek  the 
wider  application  of  the  subject  will  now  appear. 
We  have  to  look  into  those  cases  in  the  moral  and 
spiritual  sphere  in  which  the  functions  of  nu- 
trition are  either  neglected  or  abused.  To  sustain 
life,  physical,  mental,  moral,  or  spiritual,  some 
sort  of  food  is  essential.  To  secure  an  adequate 
supply  each  organism  also  is  provided  with  special 
and  appropriate  faculties.    But  the  final  gain  to  the 


243  PARASITISM. 

organism  does  not  depend  so  much  on  the  actual 
amount  of  food  procured  as  on  the  exercise  re- 
quired to  obtain  it.  In  one  sense  the  exercise  is 
only  a  means  to  an  end,  namely,  the  finding  food; 
hut  in  another  and  equally  real  sense,  the  exer^ 
cise  is  the  end,  the  food  the  means  to  attain  that. 
Neither  is  of  permanent  use  without  the  other,  but 
the  correlation  between  them  is  so  intimate  that  it 
were  idle  to  say  that  one  is  more  necessar}'^  than 
the  other.  Without  food  exercise  is  impossible, 
but  without  exercise  food  is  useless. 

Thus  exercise  is  in  order  to  food,  and  food  is  in 
order  to  exercise — in  order  especially  to  that  fur- 
ther progress  and  maturity  which  only  ceaseless 
activity  can  promote.  Now  food  too  easily  ac- 
quii-ed  means  food  without  that  accompaniment 
of  discipline  which  is  infinitely  more  valuable  than 
the  food  itself.  It  means  the  possibility  of  a  life 
which  is  a  mere  existence.  It  leaves  the  organism 
in  statu  qito,  undeveloped,  immature,  low  in  the 
scale  of  organization  and  with  a  growing  tendency 
to  pass  from  the  state  of  equilibrium  to  that  of  in- 
creasing degeneration.  What  an  organism  is  de- 
pends upon  what  it  does;  its  activities  make  it. 
And  if  the  stimulus  to  the  exercise  of  all  the  in- 
numerable faculties  concerned  in  nutrition  be 
withdrawn  by  the  conditions  and  circumstances 
of  life  becoming,  or  being  made  to  become,  too 
easy,  there  is  first  an  arrest  of  development,  and 
finally  a  loss  of  the  parts  themselves.  If,  in  short, 
an  organism  does  nothing,  in  that  relation  it  is 
nothing. 

We  may,  therefore,  formulate  the  general  prin- 
ciple thus:  A7iy  princi})le  which  secures  food  to  the 
individual  loithout  the  expenditure  of  work  is  in- 
jurious, and  accompanied  hy  the  degeneration  and 
loss  of  parts. 

The  social  and  political  analogies  of  this  law, 
which  have  been  casually  referred  to  already,  are 
sufficiently  familiar  to  render  any  further  develop- 
ment in  these  diretions  superfluous.  After  the 
eloquent  preaching  of  the  Gospel  of  Work  by 
Thomas  Carlyle,  this  century  at  least  can  never 


PARASITISM.  243 

])lead  that  one  of  the  most  important  moral  bear- 
ings of  the  siioject  has  not  been  duly  impressed 
upon  it.  All  that  can  be  said  of  idleness  gener- 
ally might  be  fitly  urged  in  support  of  this  great 
practical  truth.  All  nations  which  have  prema- 
turely passed  away,  buried  in  graves  dug  by  their 
own  effeminacy;  all  those  individuals  who  have 
secured  a  hasty  wealth  by  the  chances  of  specula- 
tion; all  children  of  fortune;  all  victims  of  inheri- 
tance; all  social  sponges;  all  satellites  of  the  court; 
all  beggars  of  the  market-place — all  these  are  liv- 
ing and  unlying  witness  to  the  unalterable  retri- 
butions of  the  law  of  parasitism.  But  it  is  when 
we  come  to  study  the  working  of  the  principle  in 
the  religious  sphere  there  we  discover  the  full  ex- 
tent of  the  ravages  which  the  parasitic  habit  can 
make  on  the  souls  of  men.  We  can  only  hope  to 
indicate  here  one  or  two  of  the  things  in  modern 
Christianity  which  minister  most  subtly  and  widely 
to  this  as  yet  all  but  unnamed  sin. 

We  begin  in  what  may  seem  a  seem  a  somewhat 
unlooked-for  quarter.  One  of  the  things  in  the 
religious  world  which  tends  most  strongly  to  in- 
duce the  parasitic  habit  is  Going  to  Church. 
Church-going  itself  every  Christian  will  rightly 
consider  an  invaluable  aid  to  the  ripe  development 
of  the  spiritual  life.  Public  worship  has  a  place 
iu  the  national  religious  life  so  firmly  established 
that  nothing  is  ever  likely  to  shake  its  influence. 
()  supreme  indeed,  is  the  ecclesiastical  system  in 
uLl  christian  countries  that  with  thousands  the 
religion  of  the  Church  and  the  religion  of  the  in- 
dividual are  one.  But  just  because  of  its  high 
and  unique  place  in  religious  regard,  does  it  be- 
come men  from  time  to  time  to  inquire  how  far 
the  Church  is  really  ministering  to  the  spiritual 
health  of  the  immense  religious  community  which 
looks  to  it  as  its  foster-mother.  And  if  it  falls  to 
us  here  reluctantly  to  expose  some  secret  abuses  of 
this  venerable  system,  let  it  be  well  understood 
that  these  are  abuses,  and  not  that  the  sacred  in- 
stitution itself  is  being  violated  by  the  attack  of 
da  impious  baud. 


244  PARASITISM. 

The  danger  of  church-going  largely  depends  on 
the  form  of  worship),  but  it  may  be  affirmed  that 
even  the  most  jjerfect  Church  tiffords  to  all 
worshipers  a  greater  or  less  temptation  to  parasit- 
ism. It  consists  essentially  in  the  deputy- work 
or  deputy -worship  inseparable  from  the  church 
or  chapel  ministrations.  One  man  is  set  apart  to 
prepare  a  certain  amount  of  spiritual  truth  for  the 
rest.  He,  if  he  is  a  true  man,  gets  all  the  benefits 
of  original  work.  He  finds  the  truth,  digests  it. 
is  nourished  and  enriched  by  it  before  he  offers  \: 
to  his  flock.  To  a  large  extent  it  will  nourish  and 
enrich  in  turn  a  number  of  his  hearers.  But  still 
they  will  lack  something.  The  faculty  of  select- 
ing truth  at  first  hand  and  appropriating  it  for 
one's  self  is  a  lawful  possession  to  every  Christian. 
Rightly  exercised  it  conveys  to  him  truth  in  its 
freshest  form;  it  offers  him  the  o]3portunity  of 
verifying  doctrines  for  himself;  it  makes  relig- 
ion personal;  it  deepens  and  intensifies  the  only 
convictions  that  are  worth  deepening,  those, 
namely,  which  are  honest;  and  it  supplies  the 
mind  with  a  basis  of  certainty  in  religion.  But  if 
all  one's  truth  is  derived  by  imbibition  from  the 
Church,  the  faculties  for  receiving  truth  are  not 
only  undeveloped  but  one's  whole  view  of  truth 
becomes  distorted.  He  who  abandons  the  personal 
search  for  truth,  under  whatever  pretext,  aban- 
dons truth.  The  very  word  truth,  by  becoming 
the  limited  possession  of  a  guild,  ceases  to  have 
any  meaning;  and  faith,  which  can  only  be 
founded  on  truth,  gives  way  to  credulity,  resting 
on  mere  opinion. 

In  those  churches  especially  where  all  parts  of 
the  worship  are  subordinated  to  the  sermon,  this 
species  of  parasitism  is  peculiarly  encouraged. 
What  is  meant  to  be  a  stimulus  to  thought  becomes 
the  substitute  for  it.  The  hearer  never  really 
learns,  he  only  listens.  And  while  truth  and 
knowledge  seem  to  increase,  life  and  character  are 
left  in  arrear.  Such  truth,  of  course,  and  such 
knowledge,  are  a  mere  seemn.g.  Having  cost 
nothing,  they  come  to   nothing.     The  organism 


PAEASITISM.  245 

acquires  a  growing  immobility,  and  finally  exists 
in  a  state  of  entire  intellectual  lieli)lessness  and 
inertia.  So  the  parasitic  Chureli-niember,  the 
literal  "adherent,"  comes  not  merely  to  live  only 
within  the  circle  of  ideas  of  his  minister,  but  to 
be  content  that  his  minister  has  these  ideas — like 
the  literary  parasite  who  fancies  he  knows  every- 
thing because  he  has  a  good  library. 

Where  the  worship,  again,  is  largely  liturgical 
the  danger  assumes  an  even  more  serious  form,  and 
it  acts  in  some  such  way  as  this.  Every  sincere 
man  who  sets  out  in  the  Christian  race  begins  1  y 
attempting  to  exercise  the  spiritual  faculties  for 
himself.  The  young  life  throbs  in  his  \eins,  and 
he  sets  himself  to  the  further  progress  with  earn- 
est purpose  and  resolute  will.  For  a  time  he  bids 
fair  to  attain  a  high  and  original  develojjment. 
But  the  temptation  to  relax  the  always  diflficult 
effort  at  spirituality  is  greater  than  he  knows. 
The  "carnal  mind"  itself  is  "enmity  against 
God,"  and  the  antipathy,  or  the  deadlier  apathy 
within,  is  unexpectedly  encouraged  from  that  very 
outside  source  from  which  he  anticipates  the  great- 
est help.  Connecting  himself  with  a  Church  he 
is  no  less  interested  than  surprised  to  find  how 
rich  is  the  provision  there  for  every  part  of  his 
spiritual  nature.  Each  service  satisfies  or  surfeits. 
Twice,  or  even  three  times  a  week,  this  feast  is 
spread  for  him.  The  thoughts  are  deeper  than 
his  own,  the  faith  keener,  the  worship  loftier,  the 
whole  ritual  more  reverent  and  splendid.  What 
more  natural  than  that  he  should  gradually  ex- 
change his  personal  religion  for  that  of  the  con- 
gregation ?  What  more  likely  than  that  a  public 
religion  should  by  insensible  stages  supjjlant  his 
individual  faith?  What  more  simple  than  to  con- 
tent himself  with  the  warmth  of  another's  soul. 
What  more  tempting  than  to  give  up  private 
prayer  for  the  easier  worship  of  the  liturgy  or  of 
the  church?  What,  in  short,  more  natural  than 
for  the  independent,  free-moving,  growing  Sac- 
culina  to  degenerate  into  the  listless,  useless,  pam- 
pered parasite  of  the  pew  ?    The  very  means  he 


346  PAEASITISM. 

takes  to  nurse  his  personal  religion  often  come 
in  time  to  wean  him  from  it.  Hanging  admir- 
ingly, or  even  enthusiastically,  on  the  lips  of  elo- 
quence, his  senses  now  stirred  by  ceremony,  now 
soothed  by  music,  the  parasite  of  the  pew  enjoys 
his  weekly  worship — his  character  untouched,  his 
will  unbraced,  his  crude  soul  unquickeued  and 
unimproved.  Thus,  instead  of  ministering  to  the 
growth  of  individual  members,  and  very  often 
just  in  proportion  to  the  superior  excellence  of 
the  p"ovision  made  for  them  by  another,  does 
this  gigantic  system  of  deputy-nutrition  tend  t3 
destroy  development  and  arrest  the  genuine  cul- 
ture of  the  soul.  Our  churches  overflow  with 
members  who  are  mere  consumers.  Their  inter- 
est in  religion  is  purely  parasitic.  Their  only 
spiritual  exercise  is  the  automatic  one  of  imbibi- 
tion, the  clergyman  being  the  faithful  Hermit- 
crab  who  is  to  be  depended  on  every  Sunday  for 
at  least  a  week's  supply. 

A  physiologist  would  describe  the  organism  re- 
sulting from  such  a  progress  as  a  case  of  '  'arrested 
development. "  Instead  of  having  learned  to  pray, 
the  ecclesiastical  j)arasite  becomes  satisfied  with 
being  prayed  for.  His  transactions  with  the  Eter- 
nal are  effected  by  commission.  His  work  for 
Christ  is  done  by  a  paid  deputy.  His  whole  life  is 
a  prolonged  indulgence  in  the  bounties  of  the 
Church;  and  surely — in  some  cases  at  least  the 
crowning  irony — he  sends  for  the  minister  when 
he  lies  down  to  die. 

Other  signs  and  consequences  of  this  species  of 
parasitism  soon  become  very  apparent.  The  first 
symptoms  is  idleness.  When  a  Church  is  off  its 
true  diet  it  is  off  its  true  work.  Hence  one 
explanation  of  the  hundreds  of  large  and  influer 
tial  congregations  ministered  to  from  week  ^o 
week  by  men  of  eminent  learning  and  earnestness, 
which  yet  do  little  or  nothing  in  the  line  of  these 
special  activities  for  which  all  churches  exist. 
An  outstanding  man  at  the  head  of  a  huge, 
useless  and  torpid  congregation  is  always  a  puzzle. 
But  is  the  reason  not  this,  that  the  congregation 


PAKA.SiTlSM.  24:; 

gets  too  good  food  too  cheap?  Pro\'iaf?nce  has 
mercifully  delivered  tlie  Cluireli  from  too  many 
great  men  in  her  pulpits,  but  there  are  enough  in 
every  country-side  to  play  the  host  disastrously  tc 
a  large  circle  of  otherwise  able-bodied  Christian 
people,  who,  thrown  on  their  own  resources, 
might  fatten  themselves  and  help  others.  There 
are  compensations  to  a  flock  for  a  poor  minister 
after  all.  Where  the  fare  is  indifferent  those  Avho 
are  really  hungry  will  exert  themselves  to  procure 
their  own  supply. 

That  the  Church  has  indispensable  functioiis 
to  discharge  to  the  individual  is  not  denied;  but 
taking  into  consideration  the  tmiversal  tendeuc}' 
to  parasitism  in  the  human  soul  it  is  a  grave 
question  whether  in  some  cases  it  does  not  really 
effect  more  harm  than  good.  A  dead  church 
certainly,  a  church  having  no  reaction  on  the- 
community,  a  church  without  propagative  powei* 
in  the  world,  cannot  be  other  than  a  calamity  to 
all  within  its  borders.  Such  a  church  is  an 
mstitution,  first  for  making,  then  for  screening 
parasites;  and  instead  of  representing  to  the 
world  the  Kingdom  of  God  on  earth,  it  is  de- 
spised alike  by  godly  and  by  godless  men  as  the 
refuge  for  fear  and  formalism  and  the  nursery  of 
superstition. 

And  this  suggests  a  second  and  not  less  practi- 
cal evil  of  a  parasitic  piety— that  it  presents  to 
the  world  a  false  conception  of  the  religion  of 
Christ.  One  notices  with  a  frequency  which  may 
well  excite  alarm  that  the  children  of  church- 
going  parents  often  break  away  as  they  grow  in 
intelligence,  not  only  from  church-connection  but 
from  the  whole  system  of  family  religion.  In 
some  cases  this  is  doubtless  due  to  natural  per- 
versity, but  in  others  it  certainly  arises  from  the 
hollowness  of  the  outward  forms"  which  pass  cur- 
rent in  society  and  at  home  for  vital  Chi'istianity. 
These  spurious  forms,  fortunately  or  unfortun- 
ately, soon  betray  themselves.  IIow  little  there 
is  in  them  becomes  gradually  apjiarent.  And 
rather  than   indulge    hi  a  sham    the    budding 


248  PARASITISM. 

sceptic,  as  the  first  step,  parts  with  the  form  and 
in  nine  cases  ont  of  ten  concerns  himself  no 
further  to  find  a  substitute.  Quite  deliberately, 
quite  honestly,  sometimes  with  real  regret  and 
even  at  personal  sacrifice  he  takes  up  his  position, 
and  to  his  parent's  sorrow  and  his  church's  dis- 
honor forsakes  forever  the  faith  and  religion  of 
his  fathers.  Who  will  deny  that  this  is  a  true 
account  of  the  natural  history  of  much  modern 
scepticism?  A  formal  religion  can  never  hold 
its  own  in  the  nineteenth  century.  It  is  better 
that  it  should  not.  We  must  either  be  real  or 
cease  to  be.  We  must  either  give  up  our  Parasit- 
ism or  our  sons. 

Any  one  who  will  take  the  trouble  to  investigate 
a  number  of  cases  where  whole  families  of  out- 
wardly godly  i^arents  have  gone  astray,  will 
probably  find  that  the  household  religion  had 
either  some  palpable  defect,  or  belonged  essen- 
tially to  the  parasitic  order.  The  popular  belief 
that  the  sons  of  clergymen  turn  out  worse  than 
those  of  the  laity  is,  of  course,  without  founda- 
tion; but  it  may  also  probably  be  verified  that  in 
the  instances  where  clergymen's  sons  notoriously 
discredit  their  father's  ministry,  that  ministry 
in  a  majority  of  cases,  will  be  found  to  be  profes- 
sional and  theological  rather  than  human  and 
spiritual.  Sequences  in  the  moral  and  spiritual 
world  follow  more  closely  than  we  yet  discern  the 
great  law  of  Heredity.  The  Parasite  begets  the 
Parasite — only  in  the  second  generation  the  off- 
spring are  sometimes  sufficiently  wise  to  make  the 
discovery,  and  honest  enough  to  proclaim  it. 

We  now  pass  on  to  the  consideration  of  another 
form  of  Parasitism  which  though  closely  related 
to  that  just  discussed,  is  of  sufficient  importance 
to  justify  a  separate  reference.  Appealing  to  a 
somewhat  smaller  circle,  but  affecting  it  not  less 
disastrously,  is  the  Parasitism  induced  by  certain 
abuses  of  tS//sfeius  of  TJteology. 

In  its  own  place,  of  course,  Theology  is  no  more 
to  be  dispensed  with  than  the  Church.  In  every 
perfect  religious  system  three  great  departments 


PARASITISM.  249 

must  always  be  represented — criticism,  dogmatism, 
and  evangelism.  AVithont  the  tirst  there  is  no 
guarantee  of  truth,  without  the  second  no  defence 
of  truth,  and  without  the  third  no  propagation  of 
truth.  But  when  these  departniei-ts  become 
mixed  up,  when  their  separate  functions  are  for- 
gotten, when  one  is  made  to  do  duty  for  another, 
or  where  either  is  developed  by  the  church  or  the 
individual  at  the  expense  of  the  rest,  the  result  is 
fatal.  The  particular  abuse,  however,  of  which 
we  have  now  to  speak,  concerns  the  tendency  in 
orthodox  communities,  first  to  exalt  orthodoxy 
above  all  other  elements  in  religion,  and  secondly 
to  make  the  possession  of  sound  beliefs  equivalent 
to  the  possession  of  truth. 

Docti'iual  preaching,  fortunately,  as  a  constant 
practice  is  less  in  vogue  than  in  a  former  age,  but 
there  are  still  large  numbers  whose  only  contact 
with  religion  is  through  theological  forms.  The 
method  is  supported  by  a  i^lausible  defence. 
What  is  doctrine  but  a  compressed  form  of  truth, 
systematized  by  able  and  pious  men,  and  sanc- 
tioned by  the  imprimatur  of  the  Church  ?  If  the 
greatest  minds  of  the  Church's  past,  having 
exercised  themselves  profoundly  upon  the  prob- 
lems of  religion,  fornuilated  as  with  one  voice  a 
system  of  doctrine,  why  should  the  humble 
inquirer  not  gratefully  accept  it?  Why  go  over 
the  ground  again?  Why  with  his  dim  light 
should  he  betake  himself  afresh  to  Bible  study 
and  with  so  great  a  body  of  divinity  already 
compiled,  presume  himself  to  be  still  a  seeker  after 
truth?  Does  not  Theology  give  him  Bible  truth 
in  reliable,  convenient,  and  moreover,  in  logical 
propositions?  There  it  lies  extended  to  the  last 
detail  in  the  tomes  of  the  Fathers,  or  abridged 
in  a  hundred  modern  compendia,  ready-made  to 
his  hand,  all  cut  and  dry,  guaranteed  sound  and 
wholesome,  why  not  use  it? 

Just  because  it  is  all  cut  and  dry.  Just 
because  it  is  ready-made.  Just  because  it  lies  there 
in  reliable,  convenient  and  logical  propositions. 
The  moment  you   appropriate   truth    in    such    a 


250  PARASITISM. 

shape  you  appropriate  a  form.  You  cannot  cut 
and  dry  trutli.  You  cannot  accept  truth  ready- 
made  without  it  ceasing  to  nourish  the  soul  as 
the  truth.  You  cannot  live  on  theological  forms 
without  becoming  a  Parasite  and  ceasing  to  be  a 
man. 

There  is  no  worse  enemy  to  a  living  Church 
than  a  prepositional  theology,  with  the  latter 
controlling  the  former  by  traditianal  authority. 
For  one  does  not  then  receive  the  truth  for  him- 
self, he  accepts  it  bodily.  He  begins  the  Chris- 
tian life  set  up  by  his  Church  with  a  stock-in-trade 
which  has  cost  him  nothing,  and  which,  though 
it  may  serve  him  all  his  life,  is  just  exactly  worth 
as  much  his  belief  in  his  Church.  This  possession 
of  truth,  moreover,  thus  lightly  won,  is  given  to 
him  as  infallible.  It  is  a  system.  There  is  noth- 
ing to  add  to  it.  At  his  peril  let  him  question  or 
take  from  it.  To  start  a  convert  in  life  with 
such  a  principle  is  unspeakably  degrading.  All 
through  life  instead  of  working  toward  truth  he 
must  work  from  it.  An  infallible  standard  is  a 
temptation  to  a  mechanical  faith.  Infallibility 
always  paralyzes.  It  gives  rest;  but  it  is  the  rest 
of  stagnation.  Men  perform  one  great  act  of  faith 
at  the  beginning  of  their  life,  then  have  done 
with  it  forever.  All  moral,  intellectual  and 
spiritual  effort  is  over;  and  a  cheap  theology 
ends  in  a  cheap  life. 

The  same  thing  that  makes  men  take  refuge 
in  the  Church  of  Rome  makes  them  take  refuge 
in  a  set  of  dogmas.  Infallibility  meets  the 
deepest  desire  of  man,  but  meets  it  in  the  most 
fatal  form.  Men  deal  with  the  hunger  after  truth 
in  two  ways.  First  by  Unbelief — which  crushes 
it  by  blind  force;  or,  secondly,  by  resorting  to 
some  external  source  credited  with  Infallibility — 
which  lulls  it  to  sleep  by  blind  faith.  The  effect 
of  a  doctrinal  theology  is  the  effect  of  Infallibility, 
And  the  wholesale  belief  in  such  a  system,  however 
accurate  it  may  be — grant  even  that  it  were 
infallible— is  not  Faith  though  it  always  gets  that 
name.     It  is  mere  Credulity.     It  is  a  complacent 


PARASITISM.  251 

and  idle  rest  upon  autliority,  not  a  hard-earned, 
self-obtained,  personal  possession.  The  moral 
responsibility  here,  besides,  is  reduced  to  nothing. 
Those  who  framed  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  or  the 
Westminster  Confession  are  responsible.  And 
anything  which  destroys  responsibility,  or  trans- 
fers it,  cannot  be  other  than  injurious  in  its  moral 
tendency  and  useless  in  itself. 

It  may  be  objected  perhaps  that  this  statement 
of  the  paralysis  spiritual  and  mental  induced  by 
Infallibility  applies  also  to  the  Bible.  The  ans- 
wer is  that  though  the  Bible  is  infallible,  the 
Infallibility  is  not  in  such  a  form  as  to  become  a 
temptation.  There  is  the  widest  possible  differ- 
ence betAveen  the  form  of  truth  in  the  Bible  and 
the  form  in  theology. 

In  theology  truth  is  prepositional — tied  up  in 
neat  parcels,  systematized,  and  arranged  in  logical 
order.  The  "Trinity  is  an  intricate  doctrinal 
problem.  The  Supreme  Being  is  discussed  in 
terms  of  philosophy.  The  Atonement  is  a  formula 
which  is  to  be  demonstrated  like  r  proposition  in 
Euclid.  And  Justification  is  to  be  worked  out  as  a 
question  of  jurisprudence.  There  is  no  necessary 
connection  between  these  doctfines  and  the  life  of 
him  who  holds  them.  They  make  him  orthodox, 
not  necessarily  righteous.  They  satisfy  the 
intellect  but  need  not  touch  the  heart.  It  does 
not,  in  short,  take  a  religious  man  to  be  a  theo- 
logian. It  simply  takes  a  man  with  fair  reason- 
ing powers.  This  man  happens  to  apply  these 
powers  to  theological  subjects — but  in  no  other 
sense  than  he  might  apply  them  to  astronomy  or 
physics.  But  truth  in  the  Bible  is  a  fountain. 
It  'is  a  diffused  nutriment,  so  diffused  that  no  one 
can  put  himself  off  with  the  form.  It  is  reached 
not  by  thinking,  but  by  doing.  It  is  seen, 
discerned,  not  demonstrated.  It  cannot  be  bolted 
whole,  but  must  be  slowly  absorbed  into  the 
system.  Its  vagueness  to  the  mere  intellect,  its 
refusal  to  be  packed  into  portable  phrases,  its 
satisfying   unsatisfyingness,  its  vast   atmosphere. 


252  PARASITISM. 

its  finding  of  us,  its  mystical  hold  of  us,  these  are 
the  tokens  of  its  infinity. 

Nature  never  provides  for  man's  wants  in  any 
direction,  bodily,  mental,  or  spiritual,  in  such  a 
form  as  that  he  can  simply  accept  her  gifts 
automatically.  She  puts  all  the  mechanical 
powers  at  his  disposal — but  he  must  make  his 
lever.  She  gives  him  corn,  but  he  must  grind  it. 
She  elaborates  coal,  but  he  must  dig  for  it.  Corn 
is  perfect,  all  the  products  of  Nature  are  perfect, 
but  he  has  everything  to  do  to  them  before  he 
can  use  them.  So  with  truth;  it  is  perfect, 
infallible.  But  he  cannot  use  it  as  it  stands. 
He  must  work,  think,  separate,  dissolve,  absorb, 
digest;  and  most  of  these  ne  must  do  for  himself 
and  within  himself.  If  it  be  replied  that  this  is 
exactly  what  theology  does,  we  answer  it  is  exactly 
what  it  does  not.  It  simply  does  what  the  green- 
grocer does  when  he  arranges  his  apples  and 
plums  in  his  shop  window.  He  may  tell  me  a 
magnum  bonum  from  a  Victoria,  or  a  Baldwin 
from  a  Newtown  Pippin.  But  he  does  not  help 
me  to  eat  it.  His  information  is  useful,  and  for 
scientific  horticulture  essential.  Should  a 
sceptical  pomologist  deny  that  there  was  such  a 
thing  as  a  Baldwin,  or  mistake  it  for  a  Newtown 
Pippin,  we  should  be  glad  to  refer  to  him;  but  if 
we  were  hungry,  and  an  orchard  were  handy,  we 
should  not  trouble  him.  Truth  in  the  Bible  is 
an  orchard  rather  than  a  museum.  Dogmatism 
will  be  very  valuable  to  us  when  scientific  necessity 
makes  us  go  to  the  museum.  Criticism  will  be 
very  useful  in  seeing  that  only  fruit-bearers  grow 
in  the  orchard.  But  truth  in  the  doctrinal  form 
is  not  natural,  proper,  assimilable  food  for  the 
soul  of  man. 

Is  this  a  plea  then  for  doubt?  Yes,  for  that 
philosophic  doubt  Avhich  is  the  evidence  of  a 
faculty  doing  its  own  work.  It  is  more  necessary 
for  us  to  be  active  than  to  be  orthodox.  To  be 
orthodox  is  what  we  wish  to  be,  but  we  can  only 
truly  reach  it  by  being  honest,  by  being  original, 
by  seeing  with  our   own  eyes,  by  believing  with 


PARASITISM.  253 

our  own  heart.  "An  idle  life,"  says  Goethe,  "is 
death  anticipated."'  I>etter  far  be  burned  at  the 
stake  of  Public  Opinion  than  die  the  living  death 
of  Parasitism.  Better  an  aberrant  theology  than 
a  suppressed  organization.  Better  a  little  faith 
dearly  won,  better  launched  alone  on  the  infinite 
bewilderment  of  Truth,  than  perish  on  the 
splendid  plenty  of  the  richest  creeds.  Such 
Doubt  is  no  self-willed  presumption.  Nor,  truly 
exercised,  will  it  prove  itself,  as  much  doubt  does, 
the  synonym  for  sorrow.  It  aims  at  a  life-long 
learning,  prepared  for  any  sacrifice  of  will  yet  for 
none  of  independence;  at  that  high  progressive 
education  which  yields  rest  in  work  and  work  in 
rest,  and  the  development  of  immortal  faculties 
in  both;  at  that  deeper  faith  which  believes  in 
the  vastness  and  variety  of  the  revelations  of  God, 
and  their  accessibility  to  all  obedient  hearts. 


CLASSIFICATION.  255 


CLASSIFICATION. 


"I  judge  of  the  order  of  the  world,  although  I  know  not  its  end,  be- 
cause to  judge  of  this  order  I  only  need  mutually  to  compare  the 
parts,  to  study  their  functions,  their  relations,  and  to  remark  their 
concert.  I  know  not  why  the  universe  exists,  but  I  do  not  desist  from 
■eeing  how  it  is  modified ;  I  do  not  cease  to  see  the  intimate  agree- 
ment by  which  the  beings  that  compose  it  render  a  mutual  help.  I 
am  like  a  man  who  should  see  for  the  first  time  an  open  watch,  who 
should  not  cease  to  admire  the  workmanship  of  it,  although  he 
knows  not  the  use  of  the  machine,  and  had  never  seen  dials.  I  do 
not  know,  he  would  say,  what  all  this  is  for,  but  I  see  that  each  piece 
is  made  for  the  others  ;  I  admire  the  worker  in  the  detail  of  his  work, 
and  I  am  very  sure  that  all  these  wheelworks  only  go  thus  in  con- 
cert for  a  common  end  which  I  cannot  perceive." — Rousseau. 

"That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh  ;  and  that  which  is  born 
of  the  Spirit  is  spirit." — Christ. 

"In  early  attempts  to  arrange  organic  beings  in  some  systematic 
manner,  we  see  at  first  a  guidance  by  conspicuous  and  simple  char- 
acters, and  a  tendency  toward  arrangement  in  linear  order.  In  suc- 
cessively later  attempts,  we  see  more  regard  paid  to  combinations  of 
character  which  are  essential  but  often  inconspicuous  ;  and  a  gradual 
abandonment  of  a  linear  arrangement." — Herbert  Spencer. 

On  one  of  the  shelves  in  a  certain  museum  lie 
two  small  boxes  filled  with  earth.  A  low  moun- 
tain in  Arran  has  furnished  the  first;  the  contents 
of  the  second  came  from  the  Island  of  Barbadoes. 
When  examined  with  a  pocket  lens,  the  Arran 
earth  is  found  to  be  full  of  small  objects,  clear  as 
crystal,  fashioned  by  some  mysterious  geometry 
into  forms  of  exquisite  symmetry.  The  substance 
is  silica,  a  natural  glass;  and  the  prevailing  shape 
is  a  six-sided  prism  capped  at  either  end  by  little 
pyramids  modeled  with  consummate  grace. 

When  the  second  specimen  is  examined,  the 
revelation  is,  if  possible,  more  surprising.  Here, 
also,  is  a  vast  assemblage  of  small  glassy  or  percell- 
anous  objects  built  up  into  curious  forms.     The 


256  CLASSIFICATION. 

material,  chemically,  remains  the  same,  hut  the 
angles  of  pyramid  and  jirism  have  given  place  to 
curved  lines,  so  that  the  contour  is  entirely  ditfer- 
ent.  The  appearance  is  that  of  a  vast  collection  of 
microscopic  urns,  goblets,  and  vases,  each  richly 
ornamented  with  small  sculptured  discs  or  perfo- 
rations which  are  disposed  over  the  pure  white  sur- 
face in  regular  belts  and  rows.  Each  tiny  urn  is 
chiseled  into  the  most  faultless  proportion,  and 
the  whole  presents  a  vision  of  magic  beauty. 

Judged  by  the  standard  of  their  loveliness  there 
is  little  to  choose  between  these  two  sets  of  objects. 
Yet  there  is  one  cardinal  difference  between  them. 
They  belong  to  different  worlds.  The  last  belong 
to  the  living  world,  the  former  to  the  dead.  The 
first  are  crystals,  the  last  are  shells. 

No  power  on  earth  can  make  these  little  urns  of 
the  Polycystince  except  Life.  We  can  melt  them 
down  in  the  laboratory,  but  no  ingenuity  of  chemis- 
try can  reproduce  their  sculptured  forms  We  are 
sure  that  Life  has  formed  them,  however,  for  tiny 
creatures  allied  to  those  which  made  the  Barba- 
does'  earth  are  living  still,  fashioning  their  fairy 
palaces  of  flint  in  the  same  mysterious  way.  On 
the  other  hand,  chemistry  has  no  difficulty  in 
making  these  crystals.  We  can  melt  down  this 
Arran  earth  and  reproduce  the  pyramids  and 
prisms  in  endless  numbers.  Nay,  if  we  do  melt  it 
down,we  cannot  help  reproducing  the  pyramid  and 
the  prism.  There  is  a  six-sidedness,  as  it  were,  in 
the  very  nature  of  this  substance  which  will  infal- 
libly manifest  itself  if  the  crystalizing  substance 
only  be  allowed  fair  play.  This  six-sided  tendency 
is  its  Law  of  Crystalization — a  law  of  its  nature 
which  it  cannot  resist.  But  in  the  crystal  there  is 
nothing  at  all  corresponding  to  Life.  There  is 
simply  an  inherent  force  which  can  be  called  into 
action  at  any  moment,  and  which  cannot  be  sep- 
arated from  the  particles  in  which  it  resides.  The 
crystal  may  be  ground  to  pieces,  but  this  force  re- 
mains intact.  And  even  after  being  reduced  to 
powder,  and  running  the  gauntlet  of  every  pro- 
cess in  the  chemical  laboratory,  the  moment  the 


CLASSIFICATION.  257 

substiiuce  is  left  to  itself  uiider  possible  conditions 
it  will  proceed  to  recrystalize  anew.  Bnt^  if  the 
Polycystine  nrn  be  broken,  no  inorganic  agency 
can  build  it  up  again.  So  far  as  any  inherent  urn- 
building  power,  analogous  to  the  crystaline 
force,  is  concerned,  it  might  lie  there  in  a  shape- 
less mass  forever.  That  which  modeled  it  at 
first  is  gone  from  it.  It  was  Vital ;  while  the  force 
which  built  the  crystal  was  only  Molecular. 

From  an  artistic  point  of  view  this  distinction 
is  of  small  importance,  ^sthetically,  the  Law  of 
Crystalization  is  probably  as  useful  in  ministering 
to  natural  beauty  as  Vitality.  What  are  more 
beautiful  than  the  crystals  of  a  snowflake  ?  Or 
what  frond  of  fern  or  feather  of  bird  can  vie  with 
the  tracery  of  the  frost  upon  a  window-pane?  Can 
it  be  said  that  the  lichen  is  more  lovely  than  the 
striated  crystals  of  the  granite  on  which  it  grows,  or 
the  moss  on  the  mountain  side  more  satisfying  than 
the  hidden  amethyst  and  cairngorm  in  the  rock 
beneath?  Or  is  the  botanist  more  astonished  when 
his  microscope  reveals  the  architecture  of  spiral 
tissue  in  the  stem  of  a  plant,  or  the  mineralogist 
who  beholds  for  the  first  time  the  chaos  of  beauty 
in  the  sliced  specimen  of  some  common  stone? 
So  far  as  beauty  goes  tlie  organic  world  and  the 
inorganic  are  one. 

To  the  man  of  science,  however,  this  identity  of 
jaeauty  signifies  nothing.  His  concern,  in  the  first 
instance,  is  not  Avith  the  forms  but  with  the  na- 
tures of  things.  It  is  no  valid  answer  to  him, 
when  he  asks  the  difference  between  the  moss  and 
the  cairngorm,  the  frost-work  and  the  fern,  to  be 
assured  that  both  are  beautiful.  For  no  fundamen- 
tal distinction  in  Science  depends  upon  beauty. 
He  wants  an  answer  in  terms  of  chemistry,  are 
they  organic  or  inorganic?  or  in  terms  of  biology, 
are  they  living  or  dead?  But  when  he  is  told  that 
the  one  is  living  and  the  other  dead,  he  is  in  pos- 
session of  a  characteristic  and  fundamental  scien- 
tific distinction.  From  this  point  of  view,  how- 
ever much  they  may  possess  in  common  of  material 
substance  and  beauty,  they  are  se])arated  from  one 


258  -         CLASSIFICATION. 

another  by  a  wide  and  uubridged  gulf.  The  cl;is- 
Bificatiou  of  these  forms,  therefore,  depends  upon 
the  standpoint,  and  we  should  pronounce  them 
like  or  unlike,  related  or  unrelated,  according  as 
we  judged  them  from  the  point  of  view  of  Art  or 
of  Science. 

The  drift  of  these  introductory  paragraphs 
must  already  be  apparent.  We  propose  to  inquire 
whether  among  men,  clothed  aj^parently  with  a 
common  beauty  of  character,  there  may  not  yet  be 
distinctions  as  radical  as  between  the  crystal  and 
the  shell;  and,  further,  whether  the  current  classi- 
fication of  men,  based  upon  Moral  Beauty,  is 
wholly  satisfactory  either  from  the  standpoint  of 
Science  or  of  Christianity.  Here,  for  example, 
are  two  characters,  pure  and  elevated,  adorned  with 
conspicuous  virtues,  stirred  by  lofty  impulses,  and 
commanding  a  spontaneous  admiration  from  all 
who  look  on  them — may  not  this  similarity  of  out- 
ward form  be  accompanied  by  a  total  dissimilarity 
of  inward  nature?  Is  the  external  appearance  the 
truest  criterion  of  the  ultimate  nature?  Or,  as  in 
the  crystal  and  the  shell,  may  there  not  exist  dis- 
tinctions more  profound  and  basal?  The  distinc- 
tions drawn  betvreen  men,  in  short,  are  commonly 
based  on  the  outward  appearance  of  goodness  or 
badness,  on  the  ground  of  moral  beauty  or  moral 
deformity — is  this  classification  scientific?  Or  is 
there  a  deeper  distinction  between  the  Christian 
and  the  not-a-Christian  as  fundamental  as  that 
between  the  organic  and  the  inorganic? 

There  can  be  little  doubt,  to  begin  with,  that 
with  the  great  majority  of  people  religion  is  re- 
garded as  essentially  one  with  morality.  Whole 
schools  of  philosophy  have  treated  the  Christian 
Religion  as  a  question  of  beauty,  and  discussed  its 
place  among  other  systems  of  ethics.  Even  those 
systems  of  theology  which  profess  to  draw  a  deeper 
distinction  have  rarely  succeeded  in  establishing 
it  upon  any  valid  basis,  or  seem  even  to  have  made 
that  distinction  perceptible  to  others.  So  little, 
indeed,  has  the  rationale  of  the  science  of  religion 
been  understood  that  there  is  still  no  more  unsatis- 


CLASSIFICATIO>r.  259 

factory  province  in  theology  tlian  where  morality 
and  religion  are  contrasted,  and  the  adjustment 
attempted  between  moral  philosophy  and.  what  are 
known  as  the  doctrines  of  grace. 

Examples  of  this  confusion  are  so  numerous 
that  if  one  were  to  proceed  to  proof  he  would  have 
to  cite  almost  the  entire  European  philosophy  of 
the  last  three  hundred  years.  From  Spinoza 
downward  through  the  whole  naturalistic  school. 
Moral  Beauty  is  persistently  regarded  as  synony- 
mous with  religion  and  the  spiritual  life.  The 
most  earnest  thinking  of  the  present  day  is  steeped 
in  the  same  confusion.  We  have  even  the  remark- 
able spectacle  presented  to  us  just  now  of  a  sub- 
lime Morality-Religion  divorced  from  Christianity 
altogether,  and  wedded  to  the  baldest  form  of 
materialism.  It  is  claimed,  moreover,  that  the 
moral  scheme  of  this  high  atheism  is  loftier  and 
more  perfect  than  that  of  Christianity,  and  men 
are  asked  to  take  their  choice  as  if  the  morality 
were  everything,  the  Christianity  or  the  atheism 
which  nourished  it  being  neither  here  nor  there. 
Others,  again,  studying  this  moral  beauty  care- 
fully, have  detected  a  something  in  its  Christian 
forms  which  has  compelled  them  to  declare  that  a 
distinction  certainly  exists.  But  in  scarcely  a 
single  instance  is  the  gravity  of  the  distinction 
more  than  dimly  apprehended.  Few  conceive  of 
it  as  other  than  a  difference  of  degree,  or  could 
give  a  more  definite  account  of  it  than  Mr. 
Matthew  Arnold's  "Religion  is  morality  touched 
by  Emotion" — an  utterance  significant  mainly  as 
the  testimony  of  an  acute  mind  that  a  distinction 
of  some  kind  does  exist.  In  a  recent  Symposium, 
where  the  question  as  to  "The  influence  upon 
Morality  of  a  decline  in  Religious  Belief,"  was  dis- 
cussed at  length  by  writers  of  whom  this  century 
is  justly  proud,  there  appears  scarcely  so  much  as 
a  recognition  of  the  fathomless  chasm  separating 
the  leading  terms  of  debate. 

If  beauty  is  the  criterion  of  religion,  this  view 
of  the  relation  of  religion  to  morality  is  justified. 
But  what  if  there  be  the  same  difference  in  the 


260  OLASSIFICATIOX. 

beauty  of  two  separate  characters  that  there  is  be- 
tween the  mineral  and  the  shell?  What  if  there 
be  a  moral  beauty  and  a  spiritual  beauty  ?  What 
answer  shall  we  get  if  we  demand  a  more  scientific 
distinction  between  characters  than  that  based  on 
mere  outward  form?  It  is  not  enough  from  the 
standpoint  of  biological  religion  to  say  of  two 
characters  that  both  are  beautiful.  For,  again,  no 
fundamental  distinction  in  Science  depends  ujjon 
beauty.  We  ask  an  answer  in  terms  of  biology, 
are  tiiey  flesh  or  spirit;  are  they  living  or  dead? 

If  this  is  really  a  scientific  question,  if  it  is  a 
question  not  of  moral  jihilosophy  only,  but  of  biol- 
ogy, we  are  compelled  to  repudiate  beauty  as  the 
criterion  of  spirituality.  It  is  not,  of  course, 
meant  by  this  that  spirituality  is  not  morally 
beautiful.  Spirituality  must  be  morally  very 
beautiful — so  much  so  that  popularly  one  is  justi- 
fied in  judging  of  religion  by  its  beauty.  Nor  is 
it  meant  that  morality  is  not  a  criterion.  All  that 
is  contended  for  is  that,  from  the  scientific  stand- 
point, it  is  not  tlie  criterion.  We  can  judge  of  the 
crystal  and  the  shell  from  many  other  standpoints 
besides  those  named,  each  classification  having  an 
importance  in  its  own  sphere.  Thus  we  might 
class  them  according  to  their  size  and  weight, 
their  percentage  of  silica,  their  use  in  the  arts,  or 
their  commercial  value.  Each  science  or  art  is 
entitled  to  regard  them  from  its  own  point  of  view; 
and  when  the  biologist  announces  his  classification 
he  does  not  interfere  with  those  based  on  other 
grounds.  Only,  having  chosen  his  standpoint,  he 
is  bound  to  frame  his  classification  in  terms  of  it. 

It  may  be  well  to  state  emj)hatically,  that  in 
proposing  a  new  classification — or  rather,  in  reviv- 
ing the  primitive  one — in  the  spiritual  sphere  we 
leave  untouched,  as  of  supreme  value  in  its  own 
province,  the  test  of  morality.  Morality  is  cer- 
tainly a  test  of  religion  — for  most  practical  pur- 
poses the  very  best  test.  And  so  far  from  tend- 
ing to  depreciate  morality,  the  bringing  into  prom- 
inence of  the  true  basis  is  entirel}'  in  its  interests 
—in  the  interests  of  a  moral  beauty,  indeed,  infin- 


CLASSIFICATION'.  261 

itely  surpassing  tlie  highest  attainable  perfection 
on  merely  natural  lines. 

The  warrant  for  seeking  a  further  classification! 
is  twofold.  It  is  a  principle  in  science  that  classi- 
fication should  rest  on  the  most  basal  characteris- 
tics. To  determine  what  these  are  may  not  always 
be  easy,  but  it  is  at  least  evident  that  a  classifica- 
tion framed  on  the  ultimate  nature  of  organisms 
must  be  more  distinctive  than  one  based  on  exter- 
nal characters.  Before  the  principles  of  classifica- 
tion were  understood,  organisms  were  invariably 
arranged  according  to  some  merely  external  re- 
semblance. Thus  plants  were  classed  according 
to  size  as  Herbs,  Shrubs,  and  Trees;  and  animals 
according  to  their  appearance  as  Birds,  Beasts, 
and  Fishes.  The  Bat  ujjon  this  j^i'inciple  was  a 
bird,  the  Whale  a  fish;  and  so  thoroughly  artificial 
were  these  early  systems  that  animals  were  often 
tabulated  among  the  plants,  and  plants  among 
the  animals.  ''In  early  attempts,"  says  Herbert 
Spencer,  "  to  arrange  organic  beings  in  some  sys- 
tematic matter,  we  see  at  first  a  guidance  by  con- 
spicuous and  simple  characters,  and  a  tendency 
toward  arrangement  in  linear  order.  In  succes- 
sively later  attempts,  we  see  more  regard  paid  to 
combinations  of  characters  which  are  essential  but 
often  inconspicuous;  and  a  gradual  abandonment 
of  a  linear  arrangement  for  an  arrangement  in 
divergent  groups  and  re-divergent  sub-groups.* 
Almost  all  the  natural  sciences  have  already  passed 
through  these  stages;  and  one  or  two  which  rested 
entirely  on  external  characters  have  all  but  ceased 
to  exist  —  Conchology,  for  example,  which  has 
yielded  its  place  to  Malacology.  Following  in 
the  wake  of  the  other  sciences,  the  classifications 
of  Theology  may  have  to  be  remodeled  in  the 
same  way.  The  popular  classification,  whatever  its 
merits  from  a  practical  point  of  view,  is  essentially 
a  classification  based  on  Morphology.  The  whole 
tendency  of  science  now  is  to  include  along  with 
morphological  considerations  the  profounder  gen^ 

*  "Principles  of  Biology,"  p.  894. 


2fi2  CLASSIFICATIOK. 

eralizations  of  Physiology  and  Embr}  ology.  And 
the  contribution  of  the  latter  science  especially  has 
been  found  so  imjiortant  that  biology  henceforth 
must  look  for  its  classification  largely  to  Embryo- 
logical  characters. 

But  apart  from  the  demand  of  modern  scientific 
e^^lture  it  is  palpably  foreign  to  Christianity,  not 
merely  as  a  Philosophy  but  as  a  Biology,  to  classify 
men  only  in  terms  of  the  former.  And  it  is 
somewhat  remarkable  that  the  writers  of  both  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments  seem  to  have  recognized 
the  deeper  basis.  The  favorite  classification  of 
the  Old  Testament  was  into  "the  nations  which 
knew  God"  and  "the  nations  which  knew  not  God" 
— a  distinction  which  we  have  formerly  seen  to  be, 
at  bottom,  biological.  In  the  New  Testament 
again  the  ethical  characters  are  more  prominent, 
but  the  cardinal  distinctions  based  on  regeneration, 
if  not  always  actually  referred  to,  are  through- 
out kept  in  view,  both  in  the  sayings  of  Christ 
and  in  the  Epistles, 

What  then  is  the  deeper  distinction  drawn  by 
Christianity?  What  is  the  essential  difference 
between  the  Christian  and  the  not-a-Christian, 
between  the  spiritual  beauty  and  the  moral  beauty? 
It  is  the  distinction  between  the  Organic  and  the 
Inorganic.  Moral  beauty  is  the  product  of  the 
natural  man,  spiritual  beauty  of  the  sjiiritual 
man.  And  these  two,  according  to  the  law  of 
Biogenesis,  are  separated  from  one  another  by  the 
deepest  line  known  to  Science.  This  Law  is  at 
once  the  foundation  of  Biology  and  of  Spiritual 
religion.  And  the  whole  fabric  of  Christianity 
falls  into  confusion  if  we  attempt  to  ignore  it. 
The  Law  of  Biogenesis,  in  fact,  is  to  be  regarded 
as  the  equivalent  in  biology  of  the  First  Law  of 
motion  in  physics:  Every  body  continues  in  its 
state  of  rest  or  of  uniform  motion  in  a  straight 
line,  excejjt  in  so  far  as  it  is  compelled  hy  force 
to  change  that  state.  The  first  Law  of  biology  is: 
That  which  is  Mineral  is  Mineral;  that  which  is 
Flesh  is  Flesh;  that  which  is  Spirit  is  Spirit. 
The  mineral  remains  in  the  inorganic  world  until 


CLASSIFICATION".  263 

it  is  seized  upon  by  a  something  called  Life  out- 
side the  inorganic  world ;  the  natural  man  remains 
the  natural  man,  until  a  Spiritual  Life  from 
without  the  natural  life  seizes  upon  him,  regener- 
ates him,  changes  him  into  a  spiritual  man.  The 
peril  of  the  illustration  from  the  law  of  motion 
will  not  be  felt  at  least  by  those  who  appreciate 
the  distinction  between  Physics  and  biology, 
between  Energy  and  Life.  The  change  of  state 
here  is  not  as  iu  physics  a  mere  change  of  direc- 
tion, the  affections  directed  to  a  new  object,  the 
will  into  a  new  channel.  The  change  involves  all 
this,  but  is  something  deeper.  It  is  a  change  of 
nature,  a  regeneration,  a  passing  from  death  into 
life.  Hence  relatively  to  this  higher  life  the 
natural  life  is  no  longer  Life,  but  Death,  and  the 
natural  man  from  the  standpoint  of  Christianity 
is  dead.  Whatever  assent  the  mind  may  give  to 
this  proposition,  however  much  it  has  been  over- 
looked in  the  past,  however  it  compares  with 
casual  observation,  it  is  certain  that  the  Founder 
of  the  Christian  religion  intended  this  to  be  the 
keystone  of  Christianity.  In  the  proposition 
TJiat  loliicli  is  flesh  is  flesh,  and  that  tohich  is 
spirit  is  spirit,  Christ  formulates  the  first  law  of 
biological  religion,  and  lays  the  basis  for  a  final 
classification.  He  divides  men  into  two  classes, 
the  living  and  the  not-living.  And  Paul  after- 
ward carries  out  the  classification  consistently, 
making  his  entire  system  depend  on  it,  and 
throughout  arranging  men,  on  the  one  hand  as 
m;evnaTtK<is — Spiritual,  on  the  other  as  c^vxiko? — carnal, 
in  terms  of  Christ's  distinction. 

Suppose  now  it  be  granted  for  a  moment  that 
the  character  of  the  not-a-Christian  is  as  beautiful 
as  that  of  the  Christian.  This  is  simply  to  say 
that  the  crystal  is  as  beautiful  as  the  organism. 
One  is  quite  entitled  to  hold  this;  but  what  he  is 
not  entitled  to  hold  is  that  both  in  the  same  sense 
are  living.  He  that  hath  the  Son  hath  Life,  and 
he  that  hath  not  the  Son  of  God  hath  noi  Life. 
And  in  the  face  of  this  law,  no  other  conclusion 
is  possible  than   that  that  which  is  flesh  remains 


264  CLASSIFICATION. 

flesh.  No  matter  how  great  the  development  of 
beauty,  that  which  is  flesh  is  withal  flesh.  The 
elaborateness  or  the  perfection  of  the  moral  devel- 
opment in  any  given  instance  can  do  nothing  to 
break  down  this  distinction.  Man  is  a  moral 
animal,  and  can,  and  ought  to,  arrive  at  great  na- 
tural beauty  of  character.  But  this  is  simply  to 
obey  the  law  of  his  nature — the  law  of  his  flesh; 
and  no  progress  along  that  line  can  project  him 
into  the  spiritual  sphere.  If  any  one  choose  to 
claim  that  the  mineral  beauty,  the  fleshly  beauty, 
the  natural  moral  beauty,  is  all  he  covets,  he  is  en- 
titled to  his  claim.  To  be  good  and  true,  pure  and 
benevolent  in  the  moral  sphere,  are  high  and,  so 
far,  legitimate  objects  of  life.  If  he  deliberately 
stop  here,  he  is  at  liberty  to  do  so.  But  what  he 
is  not  entitled  to  do  is  to  call  himself  a  Christian, 
or  to  claim  to  discharge  the  functions  peculiar  to 
the  Christian  life.  His  morality  is  mere  crystaliza- 
tion,  the  crystalizing  forces  having  had  fair  play 
in  his  development.  But  these  forces  have  no 
more  touched  the  sphere  of  Christianity  than  the 
frost  on  the  window-pane  can  do  more  than 
simulate  the  external  forms  of  life.  And  if  he 
considers  that  the  high  development  to  which  he 
lias  reached  may  pass  by  an  insensible  transition 
into  spirituality,  or  that  his  moral  nature  of  itself 
may  flash  into  the  flame  of  regenerate  Life,  he 
has  to  be  reminded  that  in  spite  of  the  apparent 
connection  of  these  things  from  one  standpoint, 
from  another  there-  is  none  at  all,  or  none  disco  f- 
erable  by  us.  On  the  one  hand,  there  being  no 
such  thing  as  Spontaneous  Generation,  his  moral 
nature,  however  it  may  encourage  it,  cannot 
generate  Life;  while,  on  the  other,  his  high 
organization  can  never  in  itself  result  in  Life, 
Life  being  always  the  cause  of  organization  and 
never  the  effect  of  it. 

The  practical  question  may  now  be  asked,  is  this 
distinction  palpable?  Is  it  a  mere  conceit  of 
Science,  or  what  human  interests  attach  to  it?  If 
it  cannot  be  j)roved  that  the  resulting  moral  or 
(Spiritual  beauty  is  higher  in  the  one  case  than  in 


CLASSIFICATION.  3Go 

the  other,  the  biological  distinction  is  useless. 
And  if  the  objection  is  pressed  that  the  spiritual 
man  has  nothing  further  to  effect  in  the  direction 
of  morality,  seeing  that  the  natural  man  can  suc- 
cessfully  compete  with  him,  the  questions  thus 
raised  become  of  serious  significance.  That  objec- 
tion would  certainly  be  fatal  which  could  show  that 
the  spiritual  world  was  not  as  high  in  its  demand 
for  a  lofty  morality  as  the  natural;  and  that  biology 
Avould  be  equally  false  and  dangerous  which  should 
in  the  least  encourage  the  view  that  "without 
holiness"  a  man  could  "see  the  Lord."  These 
questions  accordingly  we  must  briefly  consider.  It 
is  necessary  to  premise,  however,  that  the  diffi- 
culty is  not  peculiar  to  the  present  position.  This 
is  simply  the  old  difficulty  of  distinguishing  spir- 
ituality and  morality. 

In  seeking  whatever  light  Science  may  have  to 
offer  as  to  the  difference  between  the  natural  and 
the  spiritual  man,  we  first  submit  the  question  to 
Embryology.  And  if  its  actual  contribution  is 
small,  we  shall  at  least  be  indebted  to  it  for  an 
important  reason  why  the  difficulty  should  exist  at 
all.  That  there  is  grave  difficulty  in  deciding  be- 
tween two  given  characters,  the  one  natural,  the 
other  spiritual,  is  conceded.  But  if  we  can  find  a 
sufficient  justification  for  so  perplexing  a  circum- 
stance, the  fact  loses  weight  as  an  objection,  aiid 
the  whole  problem  is  placed  on  a  different  foot- 
ing. 

The  difference  on  the  score  of  beauty  between 
the  crystal  and  the  shell,  let  us  say  once  more,  is 
imperceptible.  But  fix  attention  for  a  moment, 
not  upon  their  appearance,  but  upon  their  possi- 
bilities, upon  their  relation  to  the  future,  and 
upon  their  place  in  evolution.  The  crystal  has 
reached  its  ultimate  stage  of  development.  It 
can  never  be  more  beautiful  than  it  is  now.  Take 
it  to  pieces  and  give  it  the  opportunity  to  beautify 
itself  afresh,  and  it  will  just  do  the  same  thing 
over  again.  It  will  form  itself  into  a  six-sided 
pyramid,  and  go  on  repeating  this  same  form  ad 
infinitum  as  often  as  it  is  dissolved  and  without 


2GG  CLASSIFICATION". 

ever  imjj roving  b}^  a  hair's  breadth.  Its  law  of 
crystalization  allows  it  to  reach  this  limit,  and 
nothing  else  within  its  kingdom  can  do  any  more 
for  it.  In  dealing  with  the  crystal,  in  short,  we 
are  dealing  with  the  maximum  beauty  of  the 
inorganic  world.  But  in  dealing  with  the  shell, 
we  are  not  dealing  with  the  maximum  achieve- 
ment of  the  organic  world.  In  itself  it  is  one  of 
the  humblest  forms  of  the  invertebrate  sub- 
kingdom  of  the  organic  world;  and  there  are 
other  forms  within  this  kingdom  so  different 
from  the  shell  in  a  hundred  resijects  that  to  mis- 
take them  M'ould  simply  be  impossible. 

In  dealing  with  a  man  of  fine  moral  character, 
again,  we  are  dealing  with  the  highest  achieve- 
ment of  the  organic  kingdom.  But  in  dealing 
with  a  spiritual  man  we  are  dealing  with  the 
lowest  form  of  life  in  the  spiritual  world.  To 
contrast  the  two,  therefore,  and  marvel  that  the 
one  is  apparently  so  little  better  than  the  other, 
is  unscientific  and  unjust.  The  spiritual  man  is  a 
mere  unformed  embryo,  hidden  as  yet  in  his 
earthly  chrysalis-case,  while  the  natural  man  has 
the  breeding  and  evolution  of  ages  represented  in 
his  character.  But  what  are  the  possibilities  of 
this  spiritual  organism?  What  is  yet  to  emerge 
from  this  chrysalis-case?  The  natural  character 
finds  its  limits  within  the  organic  sphere.  But 
who  is  to  define  the  limits  of  the  spiritual?  Even 
now  it  is  very  beautiful.  Even  as  an  embryo  it 
contains  some  prophecy  of  its  future  glory.  But 
the  point  to  mark  is,  that  it  doth  not  yet  appear 
tvhat  it  shall  be. 

The  want  of  organization,  thus,  does  not 
surprise  us.  All  life  begins  at  the  Amceboid  stage. 
Evolution  is  from  the  simple  to  the  complex;  and 
in  every  case  it  is  some  time  before  organization 
is  advanced  enough  to  admit  of  exact  classifica- 
lion.  A  naturalist's  only  serious  difficulty  in 
classification  is  when  he  comes  to  deal  with  low  or 
embryonic  forms.  It  is  impossible,  for  instance, 
to  mistake  an  oak  for  an  elephant;  but  at  the 
bottom  of  the  vegetable  series,  and  at  tlie  bottom  of 


CLASSIFICATION.  2G? 

the  animal  series,  there  are  organisms  of  so  doubt- 
ful a  character  that  it  is  equally  impossible  to 
distinguished  them.  So  formidable,  indeed,  has 
been  this  difficulty  that  Hsckel  has  had  to  pro- 
pose an  intermediate  regnum  proHsticum  to 
contain  those  forms  the  rudimentary  character 
of  which  makes  it  impossible  to  apply  to  the 
determining  tests. 

We  mention  this  merely  to  show  the  difficulty 
of  classification  and  not  for  analogy;  for  the 
proper  analogy  is  not  between  vegetal  and  animal 
forms,  whether  high  or  low,  but  between  the 
living  and  the  dead.  And  here  the  difficulty  is 
certainly  not  so  great.  By  suitable  tests  it  is  gen- 
erally possible  to  distinguish  the  organic  from  the 
inorganic.  The  ordinary  eye  may  fail  to  detect 
the  difference,  and  innumerable  forms  are  assigned 
by  the  popular  judgment  to  the  inorganic  world 
which  are  nevertheless  undoubtedly  alive.  And 
it  is  the  same  in  the  spiritual  world.  To  a  cursory 
glance  these  rudimentary  spiritual  forms  may  not 
seem  to  exhibit  the  phenomena  of  Life,  and 
therefore  the  living  and  the  dead  may  be  often 
classed  as  one.  But  let  the  appropriate  scientific 
tests  be  applied.  In  the  almost  amorphous  organ- 
ism, the  physiologist  ought  already  to  be  able  to 
detect  the  symptoms  of  a  dawning  life.  And  fur- 
ther i-esearcli  might  even  bring  to  light  some  faint 
indication  of  the  lines  along  which  the  future 
development  was  to  proceed.  Now  it  is  not 
impossible  that  among  the  tests  for  Life  there 
may  be  some  which  may  fitly  be  applied  to  the 
spiritual  organism.  We  may  therefore  at  this 
point  hand  over  the  problem  to  Physiology. 

The  tests  for  Life  are  of  two  kinds.  It  is 
remarkable  that  one  of  them  was  proposed,  in 
the  spiritual  sphere,  by  Christ.  Foreseeing  the 
difficulty  of  determining  the  characters  and 
functions  of  rudimentary  organisms,  He  suggested 
that  the  point  be  decided  by  a  furtlier  evolution. 
Time  for  development  was  to  be  allowed,  during 
which  the  marks  of  Life,  if  any,  would  become 
more  pronounced,  while  in  the  meantime  judg 


'268  CLASSIFICATION. 

ment  was  to  be  suspended.  "Let  both  grow 
together,"  He  said,  "until  the  harvest."  This 
is  a  thoroughly  scientific  test.  Obviously,  how- 
ever, it  cannot  assist  us  for  the  present — except 
in  the  way  of  enforcing  extreme  caution  in 
attempting  any  classification  at  all. 

The  second  test  is  at  least  not  so  manifestly 
impracticable.  It  is  to  apply  the  ordinary  methods 
by  which  biology  attempts  to  distinguish  the 
organic  from  the  inorganic.  The  characteristi»'s 
of  Life,  according  to  Physiology,  are  four  in 
number — Assimilation,  Waste,  Reproduction,  and 
Spontaneous  Action.  If  an  organism  is  found  to 
exercise  these  functions,  it  is  said  to  be  alive. 
Now  these  tests,  in  a  spiritual  sense,  might  fairly 
be  applied  to  the  spiritual  man.  The  experiment 
would  be  a  delicate  one.  It  might  not  be  open  to 
every  one  to  attempt  it.  This  is  a  scientific  ques- 
tion; and  the  experiment  would  have  to  be  con- 
ducted under  projier  conditions  and  by  competent 
persons.  But  even  on  the  first  statement  it  will  be 
plain  to  all  who  are  familiar  with  sj^iritual  diagnosis 
that  the  experiment  could  be  made,  and  especially 
on  one's  self,  with  some  hope  of  success.  Biological 
considerations,  however,  would  warn  us  not  to 
expect  too  much.  Whatever  be  the  inadequacy 
of  Morphology,  Physiology  can  never  be  studied 
apart  from  it;  and  the  investigation  of  function 
merely  as  function  is  a  task  of  extreme  difficulty. 
Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  affirms,  "We  have  next  to 
no  power  of  tracing  up  the  genesis  of  a  function 
considered  purely  as  a  function — no  opportunity 
of  observing  the  progressively-increasing  quanti- 
ties of  a  given  action  that  have  arisen  in  any  order 
of  organisms.  In  nearly  all  cases  we  are  able 
only  to  establish  the  greater  growth  of  the  part 
which  we  have  found  performs  the  action,  and 
to  infer  that  greater  action  of  the  part  has  accom- 
panied greater  growth  of  it."*  Such  being  the 
case,  it  would  serve  no  purpose  to  indicate  the 
details  of  a  barely  possible  experiment.     We  are 

*  "Principles  of  Biology,"  vol.  ii.  pp  382,  S23 


CLAS.SJfK'ATlUX.  2G9 

merely  sliowmg,  at  the  momeiit,  thut  Ihe  ques- 
tion '"How  do  I  know  that  I  uni  alive"  is  not, 
in  the  spiritual  sphere,  incapable  of  solution. 
One  might,  nevertheless,  single  out  some  distinc- 
tively spiritual  function  and  ask  himself  if  he 
consciously  discharged  it.  The  discharging  of 
that  function  is,  upon  biological  principles,  equiv- 
alent to  being  alive,  and  therefore  the  subject  of 
the  experiment  could  certainly  come  to  some 
conclusion  as  to  his  place  on  a  biological  scale. 
The  real  significance  of  his  actions  on  the  moral 
scale  might  be  less  easy  to  determine,  but  he 
could  at  least  tell  where  he  stood  as  tested  by  the 
standard  of  life — he  would  know  whether  he  were 
living  or  dead.  After  all,  the  best  test  for  Life 
is  just  living.  And  living  consists,  as  we  have 
formerly .  seen,  in  corresponding  with  Environ- 
ment. Those  therefore  who  find  within  them- 
selves, and  regularly  exercise,  the  faculties  for  cor- 
responding with  the  Divine  Environment,  may  be 
said  to  live  the  Spiritual  Life. 

That  this  Life  also,  even  in  the  embryonic 
organism,  ought  already  to  betray  itself  to  others, 
is  certainly  what  one  would  expect.  Every  organ- 
ism has  its  own  reaction  upon  Nature,  and  the 
reaction  of  the  spiritual  organism  upon  the  com- 
munity must  be  looked  for.  In  the  absence  of  any 
such  reactions  in  the  absence  of  any  token  that  it 
lived  for  a  higher  purpose,  or  that  its  real  inter- 
ests were  those  of  the  Kingdom  to  which  it  pro- 
fessed to  belong,  we  should  be  entitled  to  question 
its  being  in  that  Kingdom  It  is  obvious  that 
each  Kingdom  has  its  own  ends  and  interests,  its 
own  functions  to  discharge  in  Nature.  It  is  also 
a  law  that  every  organism  lives  for  its  Kingdom. 
And  man's  place  in  Nature,  or  his  position 
among  the  Kingdoms,  is  to  be  decided  by  the 
characteristic  functions  habitually  discharged  by 
him.  Now  when  the  habits  of  certain  individuals 
are  closely  observed,  when  the  total  effect  of  their 
life  and  work,  with  regard  to  the  community,  is 
gauged — as  carefully  observed  and  gauged  as  the 
influence  of  certain  individuals  in  a  colony  of  ants 


370  CLASSIFICATION. 

might  be  observed  and  gauged  by  Sir  John  Lub- 
bock— there  ought  to  be  no  difficulty  in  deciding 
whether  they  are  living  for  the  Organic  or  for  the 
Spiritual;  in  plainer  language,  for  the  world  or  foi- 
God.  The  question  of  Kingdoms,  at  least,  would 
be  settled  without  mistake.  The  place  of  any 
given  individual  in  his  own  Kingdom  is  a  different 
matter.  That  is  a  question  possibly  for  ethics. 
But  from  the  biological  standpoint,  if  a  man  is 
living  for  the  world  it  is  immaterial  how  well  he 
lives  for  it.  He  ought  to  live  well  for  it.  How- 
ever important  it  is  for  his  own  Kingdom,  it  does 
not  affect  his  biological  relation  to  the  other  King- 
dom whether  his  character  is  perfect  or  imperfect. 
He  may  even  to  some  extent  assume  the  outward 
form  of  organisms  belonging  to  the  higher  King- 
dom; but  so  long  as  his  reaction  upon  the  world  is 
the  reaction  of  his  species,  he  is  to  be  classed  with 
his  species,  so  long  as  the  bent  of  his  life  is  in  the 
direction  of  the  world,  he  remains  a  worldling. 

Recent  botanical  and  entomological  researches 
have  made  Science  familiar  with  what  is  termed 
Mimicry.  Certain  organisms  in  one  Kingdom 
assume,  for  jjurposes  of  their  own,  the  outward 
form  of  organisms  belonging  to  another.  This 
curious  hypocrisy  is  practiced  both  by  plants  and 
animals,  the  object  being  to  secure  some  personal 
advantage,  usually  safety,  which  would  be  denied 
were  the  organism  always  to  play  its  part  in  Nature 
in  propria  persona.  Thus  the  Ceroxylus  lacerahis 
of  Borneo  has  assumed  so  perfectly  the  disguise  of 
a  moss-covered  branch  as  to  evade  the  attack  of 
insectivorous  birds;  and  others  of  the  walking-stick 
insects  and  leaf-butterflies  practice  similar  decep- 
tions with  great  effrontery  and  success.  It  is  a 
startling  result  of  the  indirect  influence  of  Chris- 
tianity or  of  a  spurious  Christianity,  that  the  re- 
ligious world  has  come  to  be  populated — how 
largely  one  can  scarce  venture  to  think — with 
mimetic  species.  In  few  cases,  probably,  is  this 
a  conscious  deception.  In  many  doubtless  it  is 
induced,  as  in  Ceroxylus,  by  the  desire  for  safefj:. 
But  in  a  majority  of  instances  it  is  the  natural 


CLASSIFICATIOSr.  271 

effect  of  the  prestige  of  a  great  system  upon  those 
who,  coveting  its  benedictions,  yet  fail  to  under- 
stand its  true  nature,  or  decline  to  bear  its  pro- 
founder  responsibilities.  It  is  here  that  the  test 
of  Life  becomes  of  supreme  importance.  No  classi- 
fication on  the  ground  of  form  can  exclude  mi- 
metic species,  or  discover  them  to  themselves. 
But  if  man's  place  among  the  Kingdoms  is  deter- 
mined by  his  functions,  a  careful  estimate  of  his 
life  in  itself  and  in  its  reaction  upon  surrounding 
lives,  ought  at  once  to  betray  his  real  position. 
ISTo  matter  what  may  be  the  moral  uprightness  of 
his  life,  the  honorable  ness  of  his  career,  or  the 
orthodoxy  of  his  creed,  if  he  exercises  the  function 
of  loving  the  world,  that  defines  his  world — he 
belongs  to  the  Organic  Kingdom.  He  cannot  in 
that  case  belong  to  the  higher  Kingdom.  "If  any 
man  love  the  world,  the  love  of  the  Father  is  not 
in  him."  After  all,  it  is  by  the  general  bent  of  a 
man's  life,  by  his  heart-impulses  and  secret  desires, 
his  spontaneous  actions  and  abiding  motives,  that 
his  generation  is  declared. 

The  exclusiveness  of  Christianity,  separation, 
from  the  world,  uncompromising  allegiance  to  the 
Kingdom  of  God,  entire  surrender  of  body,  soul, 
and  spirit  to  Christ — these  are  truths  which  rise 
into  prominence  from  time  to  time,  become  the 
watch-words  of  insignificant  parties,  rouse  the 
church  to  attention  and  the  world  to  opposition, 
and  die  down  ultimately  for  want  of  lives  to  live 
them.  The  few  enthusiasts  who  distinguish  in 
these  requirements  the  essential  conditions  of  en- 
trance into  the  Kingdom  of  Christ  are  overpowered 
by  the  weight  of  numbers,  who  see  nothing  more 
in  Christianity  than  a  mild  religiousness,  and  who 
demand  nothing  more  in  themselves  or  in  their 
fellow-Christians  than  the  participation  in  a  con- 
ventional worship,  the  acceptance  of  traditional 
beliefs,  and  the  living  of  an  honest  life.  Yet  noth- 
ing is  more  certain  tlian  that  the  enthusiastics  arfi 
right.  Any  impartial  survey — such  as  the  unique 
analysis  in  "Ecce  Homo" — of  the  claims  of  Christ 
and  "of  the  nature  of  His  society,  will  convince  any 


272  CLASSIFICATIOiN'. 

one  who  cares  to  make  the  inquiry  of  the  outstand- 
ing difference  between  the  S3^stem  of  Christianity 
in  tiie  original  contemplation  and  its  representa- 
tions in  modern  life.  Christianity  marks  the  ad- 
vent of  what  is  simply  a  new  Kingdom,  Its  dis- 
tinctions from  the  Kingdom  below  it  are  funda- 
mental. It  demands  from  its  members  activities 
and  responses  of  an  altogether  novel  order.  It  is, 
in  the  conception  of  its  Founder,  a  Kingdom  for 
which  all  its  adherents  raust  henceforth  exclusively 
live  and  work,  and  which  opens  its  gates  alone  up- 
on those  who,  having  counted  the  cost,  are  prepared 
to  follow  it  if  need  be  to  the  death.  The  surrender 
Christ  demanded  was  absolute.  Every  aspirant 
for  membership  must  seek^^r.*^  the  Kingdom  of 
God.  And  in  order  to  enforce  the  demand  of 
allegiance,  or  rather  with  an  unconsciousness  which 
contains  the  finest  evidence  for  its  Justice,  He  even 
assumed  the  title  of  King — a  claim  which  in  other 
circumstances,  and  were  these  not  the  symbols  of 
a  higher  royalty,  seems  so  strangely  foreign  to  one 
who  is  meek  and  lowly  in  heart. 

But  this  imperious  claim  of  a  Kingdom  upon 
its  members  is  not  peculiar  to  Christianity.  It  is 
the  law  in  all  deiiartments  of  Nature  that  every 
organism  must  live  for  its  Kingdom.  And  in  de- 
fining living /or  the  higher  Kingdom  as  the  con- 
dition of  living  in  it,  Christ  enunciates  a  principle 
which  all  Nature  has  prepared  ns  to  expect. 
Every  province  has  its  peculiar  exactions,  every 
Kingdom  levies  upon  its  subjects  the  tax  of  an 
exclusive  obedience,  and  punishes  disloyalty  always 
with  death.  It  was  the  neglect  of  this  principle 
— that  every  organism  must  live  for  its  Kingdom  if 
it  is  to  live  in  it — which  first  slowly  depopulated 
the  spiritual  world.  The  example  of  its  Founder 
ceased  to  find  imitators,  and  the  consecration  of 
His  early  followers  came  to  be  regarded  as  a  super- 
fluous enthusiasm.  And  it  is  this  same  miscon- 
ception of  the  fundamental  principle  of  all  King- 
doms that  has  deprived  modern  Christianity  of  its 
vitality.  The  failure  to  regard  the  exclusive 
claims  of  Christ  as  more  than  accidental,  rhetori- 


CLASSIFICATION.  273 

cal,  or  ideal;  the  failure  to  discern  the  essential 
difference  between  His  Kingdom  and  all  other 
systems  based  on  the  lines  of  natural  religion,  and 
therefore  merely  Organic;  in  a  word,  the  general 
neglect  of  the  claims  of  Christ  as  the  Founder  of 
a  new  and  higher  Kingdom — these  have  taken  the 
very  heart  from  the  religion  of  Christ  and  left  its 
evangel  without  power  to  impress  or  bless  the 
world.  Until  even  religious  men  see  the  unique- 
ness of  Christ's  society,  until  they  acknowledge  to 
the  full  extent  its  claim  to  be  nothing  less  than  a 
new  Kingdom,  they  will  continue  the  hopeless  at- 
tempt to  live  for  two  Kingdoms  at  once.  And 
hence  the  value  of  a  more  explicit  Classification. 
For  probably  the  most  of  the  difficulties  of  trying 
to  live  the  Christian  life  arise  from  attempting  to 
half- live  it. 

As  a  merely  verbal  matter,  this  identification  of 
the  Spiritual  AVorld  with  what  are  known  to  Sci- 
ence as  Kingdoms,  necessitates  an  explanation. 
The  suggested  relation  of  the  Kingdom  of  Christ 
to  the  Mineral  and  Animal  Kingdoms  does  not, 
of  course,  depend  upon  the  accident  that  the  Spirit- 
ual World  is  named  in  the  sacred  writings  by  the 
same  word.  This  certainly  lends  an  appearance 
of  fancy  to  the  generalization:  and  one  feels 
tempted  at  first  to  dismiss  it  with  a  smile.  But, 
in  truth,  it  is  no  mere  play  on  the  word  Kingdom. 
Science  demands  the  classification  of  every  organ- 
ism. And  here  is  an  organism  of  a  unique  kind, 
a  living  energetic  spirit,  a  new  creature  which,  by 
an  act  of  generation,  has  been  begotten  of  God, 
Starting  from  the  point  that  the  spiritual  life  is  to 
be  studied  biologically,  we  must  at  once  proceed, 
as  the  first  step  in  the  scientific  examination  ojf 
this  organism,  to  enter  it  in  its  appropriate  class. 
Now  two  Kingdoms,  at  the  present  time,  are 
known  to  Science— the  Inorganic  and  the  Organic. 
It  does  not  belong  to  the  Inorganic  Kingdom,  be- 
cause it  lives.  It  does  not  belong  to  the  Organic 
Kingdom,  because  it  is  endowed  with  a  kind  of 
Life  infinitely  removed  from  either  the  vegetal  or 
animal.  Where  then  shall  it  be  classed  ?  We  are  left 


274  CLASSIFICATION. 

without  an  alternative.  There  being  no  Kingdom 
known  to  Science  whch  can  contain  it,  we  must 
construct  one.  Or  rather  we  must  inckide  in  the 
programme  of  Science  a  Kingdom  ah-eady  con- 
structed but  the  place  of  which  in  science  has  not 
yet  been  recognized.  That  Kingdom  is  the  King- 
dom of  God. 

Taking  now  this  larger  view  of  the  content  of 
science,  we  may  leave  the  case  of  the  individual 
and  pass  on  to  outline  the  scheme  of  nature  as  a 
whole.     The  general  conception  will  be  as  follows: 

First,  we  find  at  the  bottom  of  everj-thing  the 
Mineral  or  Inorganic  Kingdom.  Its  characteris- 
tics are,  first,  that  so  far  as  the  sphere  above  it  is 
concerned  it  is  dead;  second,  that  although  dead 
it  furnishes  the  physical  basis  of  life  to  the  King- 
dom next  in  order.  It  is  thus  absolutely  essential 
to  the  Kingdom  above  it.  And  the  more  minutely 
the  detailed  structure  and  ordering  of  the  whole 
fabric  are  investigated  it  becomes  increasingly  ap- 
parent that  the  Inorganic  Kingdom  is  the  prep- 
aration for,  and  the  prophecy  of,  the  Organic. 

Second,  we  come  to  the  world  next  in  order,  the 
world  containing  plant,  and  animal,  and  man,  the 
Organic  Kingdom.  Its  characteristics  are,  first, 
that  so  far  as  the  sphere  above  it  is  concerned  it  is 
dead;  and,  second,  although  dead  it  supplies  in 
turn  the  basis  of  life  to  the  Kingdom  next  in 
order.  And  the  more  minutely  the  detailed  struc- 
ture and  ordering  of  the  whole  fabric  are  investi- 
gated, it  is  obvious,  in  turn,  that  the  Organic 
Kingdom  is  the  preparation  for,  and  the  prophecy 
of  the  Spiritual. 

Third,  and  highest,  we  reach  the  Spiritual 
Kingdom,  or  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  What  its 
characteristics  are,  relatively  to  any  hypothetical 
higher  Kingdom,  necessarily  remain  unknown. 
That  the  Spiritual,  in  turn,  may  be  the  prepara- 
tion for,  and  the  prophecy  of,  something  still 
higher  is  not  impossible.  But  the  very  conception 
of  a  Fourth  Kingdom  transcends  us,  and  if  it  ex- 
ists, the  Spiritual  organism,  by  the  analogy,  must 
remain  at  present  wholly  dead  to  it. 


CLA-SSIFICATION".  275 

The  warrant  for  adding  this  Third  Kingdom 
consists,  as  just  stated,  in  the  fact  that  there  are 
organisms  which  from  their  peculiar  origin, 
nature,  and  destiny  cannot  be  fitly  entered  in  either 
of  the  two  Kingdoms  now  known  to  science.  The 
Second  Kingdom  is  proclaimed  by  the  advent 
upon  the  stage  of  the  First,  of  once-horn  organ- 
isms. The  Third  is  ushered  in  by  the  appearance, 
among  these  once-born  organisms,  of  forms  of  life 
which  have  been  born  again — twice-horn  organ- 
isms. The  classification,  therefore,  is  based,  from 
tiie  scientific  side  on  certain  facts  of  embryology 
and  on  the  Law  of  Biogenesis;  and  from  the  theo- 
logical side  on  certain  facts  of  experience  and  on 
the  doctrine  of  Regeneration.  To  whose  who  hold 
either  to  Biogenesis  or  to  Regeneration^  there  is 
no  escape  from  a  Third  Kingdom.* 

There  is  in  this  conception  of  a  high  and 
spiritual  organism  rising  out  of  the  highest  point 
of  the  Organic  Kingdom,  in  the  hypothesis  of  the 
spiritual  Kingdom  itself,  a  Third  Kingdom  follow- 
ing the  Second  in  sequence  as  orderly  as  the  Second 
jollows  the  First,  a  Kingdom  utilizing  the  materials 
of  both  the  Kingdoms  beneath  it,  continuing  their 
laws,  and,  above  all,  accounting  for  these  lower 
Kingdoms  in  a  legitimate  way  and  complementing 
them  in  the  only  known  way — there  '.s  in  all  this 
a  suggestion  of  the  greatest  of  modern  scientific 
doctrines,  the  Evolution  hypothesis,  too  impres- 
sive to  pass  unnoticed.  The  strength  of  the 
doctrine  of  Evolution,  at  least  in  its  broader  out- 
lines, is  now  such  that  its  verdict  on  any  biolog- 
ical question  is  a  consideration  of  moment.     And 

*  Philosophical  classifications  in  this  direction  (see  for  instance 
Godet'8  "Old  Testament  Studies,"  pp.  3-40),  owing  to  their  neglect  of 
the  facts  of  Biogenesis  can  never  satisfy  the  biologist — any  more  than 
the  above  will  wholly  satisfy  the  philosopher.  Both  are  needed. 
Rothe,  in  his  "Aphorisms,"  strikingly  notes  one  point :  "Es  ist  beach- 
tenswerth,  wie  in  der  SchOpfuug  inimer  aus  der  AutlOsung  der  nachst 
neideren  Stufe  die  nachst  hOhere  hervorgeht,  so  dass  jcne  immer  das 
Snbstrat  zur  Erzeugung  dieser  Kraft  der  schopferi.>;clien  Einwirknng 
bildet.  (Wie  es  denn  nicht  anders  sein  kann  bei  einer  Entwicklung 
der  Kreatur  aus  sich  eelbst.)  Aus  den  zersetzten  Elementen  erheben 
sich  das  Mineral,  aus  dem  verwitterten  Material  die  Pllanze,  aus  der 
verwesten  Pllanze  das  Thier.  So  erhebt  sich  auch  aus  dem  in  die 
Elemente  zuriicksinkenden  Materiellen  Menschen  der  tieist,  das 
geistige  (jfe8cti0pf."-'"aUUe  Stunden,"  p.  64. 


2T6  CLASSIFlCATlO^r. 

if  any  further  defence  is  needed  for  the  idea  of  a 
Third  Kingdom  it  may  be  found  in  the  singular 
liarmony  of  the  whole  conception  with  this  great 
modern  truth.  It  might  even  be  asked  whether 
a  complete  and  consistent  theoi'y  of  Evolution 
does  not  really  demand  such  a  conception?  Why 
should  Evolution  stop  with  the  Organic?  It  is 
surely  obvious  that  the  complement  of  Evolution 
is  Advolution,  and  the  inquiry,  Whence  has  all  this 
system  of  things  come,  is,  after  all,  of  minor 
importance  compared  with  the  question,  AVhither 
does  all  this  tend?  Science,  as  such,  may  have 
little  to  say  on  such  a  question.  And  it  is  per- 
haps impossible,  with  such  faculties  as  we  now 
possess,  to  imagine  an  Evolution  with  a  future  as 
great  as  its  past  So  stupendous  is  the  develop- 
ment from  the  atom  to  the  man  that  no  point 
can  be  fixed  in  the  future  as  distant  from  what 
man  is  now  as  he  is  from  the  atom.  But  it  has 
been  given  to  Christianity  to  disclose  the  lines  of 
a  further  Evolution.  And  if  Science  also  professes 
to  offer  a  further  Evolution,  not  the  most  sanguine 
evolutionist  will  venture  to  contrast  it,  either  as 
regards  the  dignity  of  its  methods,  the  magnifi- 
cence of  its  aims,  or  the  certainty  of  its  hopes, 
with  the  prospects  of  the  Spiritual  Kingdom. 
That  Science  has  a  prospect  of  some  sort  to  hold 
out  to  man,  is  not  denied.  But  its  limits  are 
already  marked.  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  after 
investigating  its  possibilities  fully,  tells  us, 
'•Evolution  has  an  impassable  limit."*  It  is 
the  distinct  claim  of  the  Third  Kingdom  that 
this  limit  is  not  final.  Christianity  opens  a  way 
to  a  further  development — a  development  apart 
from  which  the  magnificent  past  of  Nature  has 
been  in  vain,  and  without  which  Organic  Evolu- 
tion, in  spite  of  the  elaborateness  of  its  processes 
and  the  vastness  of  its  achievements,  is  a  simply 
a  stupendous  cul  de  sac.  Far  as  nature  carries  on 
the  task,  vast  as  is  the  distance  between  the  atom 
and  the  man,  she  has  to  lay  down  her  tools  when 

*  "First  Principles,"  p.  440. 


CLASSIFICATION.  277 

the  work  is  just  begun,  Man,  her  most  rich  and 
finished  product,  marvelous  in  his  complexity, 
all  but  Divine  in  sensibility,  is  to  the  Third 
Kingdom  not  even  a  shapeless  embryo.  The  old 
chain  of  processes  must  begin  again  on  the  higher 
plane  if  there  is  to  be  a  further  Evolution.  The 
highest  organism  of  the  Second  Kingdom — simple, 
immobile,  dead  as  the  inorganic  crystal,  toward 
the  sphere  above — must  be  vitalized  afresh.  Then 
from  a  mass  of  all  but  homogeneous  "protoplasm" 
the  organism  must  pass  through  all  the  stages  of 
ditferentiation  and  integration,  growing  in  perfect- 
ness  and  beauty  under  the  unfolding  of  the 
higher  Evolution,  until  it  reaches  the  Infinite 
Complexity,  the  Infinite  Sensibility,  God.  So 
the  spiritual  carries  on  the  marvelous  process  to 
which  all  lower  Nature  ministers,  and  perfects  it 
when  the  ministry  of  lower  Nature  fails. 

This  conception  of  a  further  Evolution  carries 
with  it  the  final  answer  to  the  charge  that,  as 
regards  morality,  the  Spiritual  world  has  nothing 
to  offer  man  that  is  not  already  within  his  reach. 
Will  it  be  contended  that  a  perfect  morality  is 
already  within  the  reach  of  the  natural  man? 
What  product  of  the  organic  creation  has  ever 
attained  to  the  fullness  of  the  stature  of  Him  who 
is  the  Founder  and  Type  of  the  Spiritual  King- 
dom? What  do  men  know  of  the  qualities 
enjoined  in  His  Beatitudes,  or  at  what  value  do 
they  estimate  them?  Proved  by  results,  it  is  surely 
already  decided  that  on  merely  natural  lines  moral 
perfection  is  unattainable.  And  even  Science  is 
beginning  to  awaken  to  the  momentous  truth  that 
Man,  the  highest  product  of  the  Organic  Kingdom, 
is  a  disappointment.  But  even  were  it  otherwise, 
if  even  in  prospect  the  hopes  of  the  Organic 
Kingdom  could  be  justified,  its  standard  of 
beauty  is  not  so  high,  nor,  in  spite  of  the  dreams 
of  Evolution,  is  its  guarantee  so  certain.  Tie 
goal  of  the  organisms  of  the  Spiritual  World  is 
nothing  less  than  this — to  be  "holy  as  He  is  holy, 
and  pure  as  He  is  pure."     And  by  the  Law  of 


278  CLASSIFICATION. 

Conformity  to  Type,  their  final  perfection  is 
secured.  The  inward  nature  must  develop  out 
according  to  its  T3Q)e,  until  the  consummation  of 
oneness  with  God  is  reached. 

These  proposals  of  the  Spiritual  Kingdom  in 
the  direction  of  Evolution  are  at  least  entitled  to 
be  carefully  con-sidered  by  Science.  Christianity 
defines  the  highest  conceivable  future  for  man- 
kind. It  satisfies  the  Law  of  Continuity.  It 
guarantees  the  necessary  conditions  for  carrying 
on  the  organism  successfully,  from  stage  to  stage. 
It  provides  against  the  tendency  to  Degeneration. 
And  finally,  instead  of  limiting  the  yearning 
hope  of  final  perfection  to  the  organisms  of  a 
future  age — an  age  so  remote  that  the  hope  for 
thousands  of  years  must  still  be  hopeless — instead 
of  inflicting  this  cruelty  on  intelligences  mature 
enough  to  know  perfection  and  earnest  enough  to 
wish  it,  Christianity  puts  the  prize  within 
immediate  reach  of  man. 

This  attempt  to  incorporate  the  Spiritual  King- 
dom in  the  scheme  of  Evolution,  may  be  met  by 
what  seems  at  first  sight  a  fatal  objection.  So 
far  from  the  idea  of  a  Spiritual  Kingdom  being 
in  harmony  with  the  doctrine  of  Evolution,  it  may 
be  said  that  it  is  violently  opposed  to  it.  It 
announces  a  new  Kingdom  starting  off  suddenly 
on  a  different  plane  and  in  direct  violation  of  the 
primary  principle  of  development.  Instead  of 
carrying  the  organic  evolution  further  on  its  own 
xines,  theology  at  a  given  point  interposes  a  sudden 
and  hopeless  barrier — the  barrier  between  the 
natural  and  the  spiritual — and  insists  that  the 
evolutionary  process  mast  begin  again  at  the 
beginning.  At  this  ])oint,  in  fact.  Nature  acts 
2)67-  saltum.  This  is  no  Evolution,  but  a  Catas- 
trophe— such  a  Catastrophe  as  must  be  fatal  to  any 
consistent  development  hyjiothesis. 

On  the  surface  this  objection  seems  final — but 
il  is  only  on  the  surface.  It  arises  from  taking  a 
too  narrow  view  of  what  Evolution  is.  It  takes 
evolution  in   zoology  for  Evolution  as  a  whole. 


CLASSIFICATION.  279 

Evolution  began,  let  us  say,  with  some  primeval 
nebulous  mass  in  whicli  lay  potentially  all  future 
worlds.  Under  the  evolutionary  hand,  the 
amorphous  cloud  broke  up,  condensed,  took 
definite  shape,  and  in  the  line  of  true  development 
assumed  a  gradually  increasing  complexity. 
Finally  there  emerged  the  cooled  and  finished 
earth,  highly  differentiated,  so  to  speak,  complete 
and  fully  equipped.  And  what  followed?  Let 
it  be  well  observed — a  Catastrophe.  Instead  of 
carrying  the  process  further,  the  Evolution,  if 
this'is  Evolution,  here  also  abruptly  stops.  A  sud- 
den and  hopeless  barrier — the  barrier  between  the 
Inorganic  and  the  Organic — interposes,  and  the 
process  has  to  begin  again  at  the  beginning  with 
the  creation  of  Life,  Here  then  is  a  barrier  placed 
by  Science  at  the  close  of  the  Inorganic  similar  to 
the  barrier  placed  by  Theology  at  tlie  close  of  the 
Organic.  Science  has  used  every  effort  to  abolish 
this  first  barrier,  but  there  it  still  stands  challenging 
the  attention  of  the  modern  world,  and  no  consist- 
ent theory  of  Evolution  can  fail  to  reckon  with  it. 
Any  objection,  then,  to  the  Catastrophe  intro- 
duced by  Christianity  between  the  Natural  and 
Spiritual  Kingdoms  applies  with  equal  force 
against  the  barrier  which  Science  places  between 
the  Inorganic  and  the  Organic.  The  reserve  of 
Life  in  either  case  is  a  fact,  and  a  fact  of  excep- 
tional significance. 

What  then  becomes  of  Evolution?  Do  these 
two  great  barriers  destroy  it  ?  By  no  means.  But 
they  make  it  necessary  to  frame  a  larger  doctrine. 
And  the  doctrine  gains  immeasurably  by  such  an 
enlargement.  For  now  the  case  stands  thus: 
Evolution,  in  harmony  with  its  own  law^  that 
progress  is  from  the  simple  to  the  complex,  begins 
itself  to  pass  toward  the  complex.  The  material- 
istic Evolution,  so  to  speak,  is  a  straight  line. 
Making  all  else  complex,  it  alone  remains  simple 
— unscientifically  simple.  But  as  Evoliition 
unfolds  everything  else,  it  is  now  seen  to  be  itself 
slowly  unfolding.     The   straigJit   line   is   coming 


280  CLASSIFICATION". 

out  gradually  in  curves.  At  a  given  point  a  new 
force  appears  deflecting  it;  and  at  another  given 
point  a  new  force  appears  deflecting  that.  These 
points  are  not  unreUited  points;  these  forces  are 
not  unrehited  forces.  The  arrangement  is  still 
harmonious,  and  the  develojiment  throughout 
obeys  the  evolutionary  law  in  being  from  the 
general  to  the  special,  from  the  lower  to  the 
higher.  What  we  are  reaching,  in  short,  is 
nothing  less  than  the  evolution  of  Evolution. 

Now  to  both  Science  and  Christianity,  and 
especially  to  Science,  this  enrichment  of  Evolution 
is  important.  And,  on  the  part  of  Christianity, 
the  contribution  to  the  system  of  Nature  of  a 
second  barrier  is  of  real  scientific  value.  At  first 
it  may  seem  merely  to  increase  the  difficulty. 
But  in  reality  it  abolishes  it.  However  paradox- 
ical it  seems,  it  is  nevertheless  the  case  that  two 
barriers  are  more  easy  to  understand  than  one — 
two  mysteries  are  less  mysterious  than  a  single 
mysterv.  For  it  requires  two  to  constitute  a 
harmony.  One  by  itself  is  a  Catastrophe.  But, 
just  as  the  recurrence  of  an  eclipse  at  different 
periods  makes  an  eclipse  no  breach  of  Continuity; 
Just  as  the  fact  that  the  astronomical  conditions 
necessary  to  cause  a  Glacial  Period  will  in  the 
remote  future  again  be  fulfilled  constitutes  the 
Great  Ice  Age  a  normal  phenomenon;  so  the 
recurrence  of  two  periods  associated  with  special 
phenomena  of  Life,  the  second  higher,  and  by 
the  law  necessarily  higher,  is  no  violation  of  the 
principle  of  Evolution.  Thus  even  in  the  matter 
of  adding  a  second  to  the  one  barrier  of  Nature, 
the  Third  Kingdom  may  already  claim  to  com- 
plement the  Science  of  the  Second.  The  over- 
throw of  Spontaneous  Generation  has  left  a  break 
in  Continuity  which  continues  to  put  Science  to 
confusion.  'Alone,  it  is  as  abnormal  and  perplex- 
ing to  tlie  intellect  as  the  first  eclipse.  But  if  the 
Spiritual  Kingdom  can  supply  Science  with  a 
companion-phenomenon,  the  most  exceptional 
thing  in  the  scientific   sphere   falls  within  the 


CLASSIFICATION.  281 

domuiu  of  Law.  Tliis,  however,  is  no  more  than 
might  be  expected  from  a  Third  Kingdom.  True 
to  its  place  as  the  highest  of  tlie  Kingdoms,  it 
ought  to  embrace  all  that  lies  beneath  and 
give  to  the  First  and  Second  their  final  explana- 
tion. 

How  much  more  in  the  under-Kingdoms  might 
be  explained  or  illuminated  upon  this  principle, 
however  tempting  might  be  the  inquiry,  we  cannot 
turn  aside  to  ask.  But  the  rank  of  the  Third 
Kingdom  in  the  order  of  Evolution  implies  that 
it  holds  the  key  to  much  that  is  obscure  in  the 
world  around — much  that,  apart  from  it,  must 
always  remain  obscure.  A  single  obvious  instance 
will  serve  to  illustrate  the  fertility  of  the  method. 
What  has  this  Kingdom  to  contribute  to  Science 
with  regard  to  the  Problem  of  the  origin  of  Life 
itself?  Taking  this  as  an  isolated  phenomenon, 
neither  the  Second  Kingdom,  nor  the  Third  apart 
from  revelation,  has  anything  to  pronounce.  But 
when  we  observe  the  companion-phenomenon  in 
the  higher  Kingdom,  the  question  is  simplified. 
It  will  be  disputed  by  none  that  the  source  of 
Life  in  the  Spiritual  World  is  God.  And  as  the 
same  Law  of  Biogenesis  prevails  in  both  spheres, 
we  may  reason  from  the  higher  to  the  lower  and 
affirm  it  to  be  at  least  likely  that  the  origin  of  life 
there  has  been  the  same. 

There  remains  yet  one  other  objection  of  a  some- 
what different  order,  and  which  is  only  referred  to 
because  it  is  certain  to  be  raised  by  those  who  fail 
to  appreciate  the  distinctions  of  Biology.  Those 
whose  sympathies  are  rather  with  Philosophy  than 
with  Science  may  incline  to  dispute  the  allocation 
of  so  high  an  organism  as  man  to  the  merely  vege- 
tal and  animal  Kingdom.  Recognizing  the  im- 
mense moral  and  intellectual  distinctions  between 
him  and  even  the  highest  animal,  they  would  intro- 
duce a  third  barrier  man  and  animal — a  barrier 
even  greater  than  that  between  the  Inorganic  and 
the  Organic.  Now,  no  science  can  be  blind  to 
these  distinctions.     The  only  question  is  Avhether 


282  CLASSIFICATION. 

they  are  of  such  a  kind  as  to  make  it  necessary  ta 
classify  man  in  a  separate  Kingdom.  And  to  this 
the  answer  of  Science  is  in  the  negative.  Modern 
Science  knows  only  two  Kingdoms — the  Inorganic 
and  the  Organic.  A  barrier  between  man  and 
animal  there  may  be,  but  it  is  a  different  barrier 
from  that  which  separates  Inorganic  from  Organic. 
But  even  were  this  to  be  denied,  and  in  sjDite  of 
all  science  it  will  be  denied,  it  would  make  no 
difference  as  regards  the  general  question.  It 
would  merely  interpose  another  Kingdom  between 
the  Organic  and  the  Spiritual,  the  other  relations 
remaining  as  before.  Any  one,  therefore,  with  a 
theory  to  support  as  to  the  exceptional  creation  of 
the  Human  Race  will  find  the  present  classification 
elastic  enough  for  his  purpose.  Philosophy,  of 
course,  may  propose  another  arrangement  of  the 
Kingdoms  if  it  chooses.  It  is  only  contended  that 
this  is  the  order  demanded  by  Biology.  To  add 
another  Kingdom  mid-way  between  the  Organic 
and  the  Spiritual,  could  that  be  justified  at  any 
future  time  on  scientific  grounds,  would  be  a  mere 
question  of  further  detail. 

Studies  in  Classification,  beginning  wdth  consid- 
erations of  quality,  usually  end  with  a  reference  to 
quantity.  And  though  one  would  willingly  ter- 
minate the  inquiry  on  the  threshold  of  such  a  sub- 
ject, the  example  of  Revelation  not  less  than  the 
analogies  of  Nature  press  for  at  least  a  general 
statement. 

The  broad  impression  gathered  from  the  ntter- 
ances  of  the  Founder  of  the  Spiritual  Kingdom  is 
that  the  number  of  organisms  to  be  included  in  it 
is  to  be  comparatively  small.  The  outstanding 
characteristic  of  the  new  Society  is  to  be  its  select- 
ness.  "Many  are  called,"  said  Christ,  "but  few 
are  chosen."  And  wdien  one  recalls,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  conditions  of  membership,  and,  on  the 
other,  observes  the  lives  and  aspirations  of  aver- 
age men,  the  force  of  the  verdict  becomes  appar- 
ent. In  its  bearing  upon  the  general  question, 
such  a  conclusion  is  not  without  suggestiveness. 
Here  again   is  another  evidence   of  the  radical 


CLASSIFICATION.  383 

nature  of  Christianity.  That  "few  are  cliosen" 
indicates  a  deeper  view  of  the  relation  of  Clirist's 
Kingdom  to  the  world,  and  stricter  qualifica- 
tions of  membership,  than  lie  on  the  surface 
or  are  allowed  for  in  the  ordinary  practice  of 
religion. 

The  analogy  of  Nature  upon  this  jjoint  is  not 
less  striking — it  may  be  added,  not  less  solemn. 
It  is  an  open  secret,  to  be  read  in  a  hundred  anal- 
ogies from  the  world  around,  that  of  the  millions 
of  possible  entrants  for  advancement  in  any  de- 
partment of  Nature  the  number  ultinuitely  selected 
for  preferment  is  small.  Here  also  "many  are 
called  and  few  are  chosen."  The  analogies  from 
the  waste  of  seed,  of  pollen,  of  human  lives,  are  too 
familiar  to  be  quoted.  In  certain  details,  possibly, 
these  comparisons  are  inajjpropriate.  But  there 
are  other  analogies,  wider  and  more  just,  which 
strike  deeper  into  the  system  of  Nature  A  com- 
prehensive view  of  the  whole  lield  of  Nature  dis- 
closes the  fact  that  the  circle  of  the  chosen  slowly 
contracts  as  we  rise  in  the  scale  of  being.  Some 
mineral,  but  not  all,  becomes  vegetable;  some 
vegetable,  but  not  all,  becomes  animal;  some  ani- 
mal, but  not  all,  becomes  human;  some  human, 
but  not  all,  becomes  Divine.  Thus  the  area  nar- 
rows. At  the  base  is  the  mineral,  most  broad  and 
simple;  the  spiritual  at  the  apex,  smallest,  but 
most  highly  differentiated.  So  form  rises  above 
form.  Kingdom  above  Kingdom.  Quantity  dC' 
creases  as  quality  increases. 

The  gravitation  of  the  whole  system  of  nature 
toward  quality  is  surely  a  phenomenon  of  command- 
ing interest.  And  if  among  the  more  recent  reve- 
lations of  Nature  there  is  one  thing  more  signifi- 
cant for  religion  than  another,  it  is  the  majestic 
spectacle  of  the  rise  of  Kingdoms  toward  scarcer 
yet  nobler  forms,  and  simpler  yet  diviner  ends. 
Of  the  early  stage,  the  first  development  of  the 
earth  from  the  nebulous  matrix  of  space.  Science 
speaks  with  reserve.  The  second,  the  evolution  of 
each  individual  from  the  simple  protoplasmic  cell 
to  the  formed  adult,  is  proved.     The  still  wider 


284  CLASSIFICATION. 

evolution,  not  of  solitary  individuals,  but  of  all 
the  individuals  within  each  province — in  the  veg- 
etal world  from  the  unicellular  cryptogam  to  the 
highest  phanerogam,  in  the  animal  world  from  the 
amorphous  amceba  to  Man — is  at  least  suspected, 
the  gradual  rise  of  types  being  at  all  events  a  fact. 
Bat  now,  at  last,  we  see  the  Kingdoms  themselves 
evolving.  And  that  supreme  law  which  has 
guided  the  develo2:)ment  from  simple  to  complex 
in  matter,  in  individual,  in  sub-Kingdom,  and  in 
Kingdom,  until  only  two  or  three  great  Kingdoms 
remain,  now  begins  at  the  beginning  again,  direct- 
ing the  evolution  of  these  million-peopled  worlds 
as  if  they  were  simple  cells  or  organisms.  Thus, 
what  applies  to  the  individual  applies  to  the  family, 
what  applies  to  the  family  applies  to  the  Kingdom, 
what  applies  to  the  Kingdom  applies  to  the  King- 
doms. And  so,  out  of  tlie  infinite  complexit}'  there 
rises  an  infinite  simplicity,  the  foreshadowing  of 
a  final  unity,  of  that 

"One  God,  one  law,  one  element, 

And  one  far-off  divine  event. 
To  which  the  whole  creation  moves."* 

This  is  the  final  triumph  of  Continuity,  the 
heart  secret  of  Creation,  the  unspoken  prophecy  of 
Christianity.  To  Science,  defining  it  as  a  working 
principle,  this  mighty  process  of  amelioration  is 
simply  Evolution.  To  Christianity,  discerning 
the  end  through  th'^  means,  it  is  Redemption. 
These  silent  and  patient  processes,  elaborating, 
eliminating,  developir'^  all  from  the  first  of  time, 
conducting  the  evolution  from  millennium  to  mil- 
lennium with  unaltering  purpose  and  unfaltering 
power,  are  the  early  stages  in  the  redemptive 
work — the  unseen  approach  of  that  Kingdom 
whose  strange  mark  is  that  it  "cometh  without 
observation."  And  these  Kingdoms  rising  tier 
above  tier  in  ever  increasing  sublimity  and  beauty, 
their  foundations  visibly  fixed  in  the  past,  their 

*  "In  Memoriam. 


CLASSIFICATIOX.  285 

progress,  and  the  direction  of  their  progress,  be- 
ing facts  in  Nature  still,  are  the  signs  which,  since 
the  Magi  saw  His  star  in  the  East,  have  never  been 
wanting  from  the  firmament  of  truth,  and  which 
in  every  age  with  growing  clearness  to  the  wise, 
and  with  ever-gathering  mystery  to  the  uninitiated, 
proclaim  that  "tli3  Kingdom  of  God  is  at  hand.'* 


Finis. 


Date  Due 

^^^^ 

f^*? 

m 

PRINTED 

IN  U.  S.  A. 

1    1012  01007  0540