{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_22105/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_22105","id":"gutenberg_22105","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22105","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christian ethics"],"text":"E-text prepared by Al Haines\n\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\n   Page numbers in this book are indicated by numbers enclosed\n   in curly braces, e.g. {99}.  They have been located where page\n   breaks occurred in the original book.  For its Index, a page\n   number has been placed only at the start of that section.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHRISTIANITY AND ETHICS\n\nA Handbook of Christian Ethics\n\nby\n\nARCHIBALD B. D. ALEXANDER, M.A., D.D.\n\nAuthor of 'A Short History of Philosophy,'\n  'The Ethics of St. Paul,' etc.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLondon: Duckworth & Co.\n3 Henrietta St., Covent Garden\n1914\nAll rights reserved\n\n\n\n\n{v}\n\nPREFACE\n\nThe object of this volume is to present a brief but comprehensive view\nof the Christian conception of the moral life.  In order to conform\nwith the requirements of the series to which the volume belongs, the\nwriter has found the task of compression one of almost insurmountable\ndifficulty; and some topics, only less important than those dealt with,\nhave been necessarily omitted.  The book claims to be, as its title\nindicates, simply a handbook or introduction to Christian Ethics.  It\ndeals with principles rather than details, and suggests lines of\nthought instead of attempting an exhaustive treatment of the subject.\nAt the same time, in the author's opinion, no really vital question has\nbeen overlooked.  The treatise is intended primarily for students, but\nit is hoped that it may prove serviceable to those who desire a\nsuccinct account of the moral and social problems of the present day.\n\nA fairly full bibliography has been added, which, along with the\nreferences to authorities in the body of the work, may be helpful to\nthose who wish to prosecute the study.  For the convenience of readers\nthe book has been divided into four sections, entitled, Postulates,\nPersonality, Character, and Conduct; and a detailed synopsis of\ncontents has been supplied.\n\nTo the Rev. W. R. Thomson, B.D. of Bellshill, Scotland, who read the\nchapters in type, and generally put at his disposal much valuable\nsuggestion, the author would record his most sincere thanks.\n\n\n\n\n{vii}\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n                                                             PAGE\nA PLEA FOR THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS . . . . . . . . . .    1\n\n\n\nSECTION A--POSTULATES\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE NATURE AND SCOPE OF ETHICS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .    9\n\n   I. General Definition.\n  II. Distinctive Features--1. Ideal; 2. Norm; 3. Will.\n III. Is Ethics a Science?\n  IV. Relation to--1. Logic; 2. Aesthetics; 3. Politics.\n   V. Dependence upon--1. Metaphysics; 2. Psychology.\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE POSTULATES OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS . . . . . . . . . . . . .   22\n\n   I. Philosophical Ethics.\n  II. Dogmatics.\n III. Theological Presuppositions--\n      1. Christian Idea of God.\n      2. Christian Doctrine of Sin.\n      3. Human Responsibility.\n  IV. Authority and Method.\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nETHICAL THOUGHT BEFORE CHRIST  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   36\n\n   I. In Greece and Rome--Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Stoics.\n      Stoicism and St. Paul.\n  II. In Israel--1. Law; 2. Prophecy; 3. Poetry.\n      Preparatory Character of pre-Christian Morality.\n\n\nSECTION B--PERSONALITY\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE ESTIMATE OF MAN  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   55\n\n   I. Conflicting Views of Human Nature--\n      1. Man by nature Morally Good.\n      2. Man by nature Totally Depraved.\n      3. The Christian View.\n  II. Examination of Man's Psychical Nature--\n      1. The Unity of the Soul.\n      2. The Divine in Man.\n      3. The Physical and Mental Life.\n III. Appeal of Christianity to the Mind.\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE WITNESS OF CONSCIENCE  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   68\n\n   I. Treatment of Conscience--\n      1. In Greek Poetry and Philosophy.\n      2. In Old Testament.\n      3. In New Testament.\n  II. Nature and Origin of Conscience--\n      1. Intuitionalism.\n      2. Evolutionalism.\n III. Validity of Conscience--\n      1. The Christian View.\n      2. The Moral Imperatives.\n      3. The Permanence of Conscience\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n'THE MIRACLE OF THE WILL'  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   82\n\n   Is Man free to choose the Good?\n   Creative Power of Volition.\n   Aspects of Problem raised.\n   I. Scientific--\n      Man and Physical Necessity.\n  II. Psychological--\n      Determinism and Indeterminism.\n      Criticism of James and Bergson.\n      Spontaneity and Necessity.\n III. Theological--\n      Divine Sovereignty and Human Freedom.\n      Jesus and Paul--Challenge to the Will.\n      Freedom--a Gift and a Task.\n\n\nSECTION C--CHARACTER\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nMODERN THEORIES OF LIFE  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   99\n\n   I. Naturalistic Tendency--\n      1. Materialistic--\n         (1) Idyllic or Poetic--Rousseau.\n         (2) Philosophic--Feuerbach.\n         (3) Scientific--Haeckel.\n      2. Utilitarian--Hobbes, Bentham, Mill.\n      3. Evolutionary--Spencer.\n      4. Socialistic--Marx, Engels.\n      5. Individualistic--\n         (1) Aestheticism--Goethe, Schiller.\n         (2) Subjectivism--\n             (_a_) Pessimism--Schopenhauer.\n             (_b_) Optimism--Nietzsche.\n  II. Idealistic Tendency--\n      1. Kant--Categorical Imperative.\n      2. Fichte and Hegel--Idea of Personality.\n      3. James--Pragmatism.\n      4. Bergson--Vitalism.\n      5. Eucken--Activism.\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nTHE CHRISTIAN IDEAL  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .    127\n\n   Life, as the highest Good.\n   I. Life, in its Individual Aspect--\n      1. Its Intensity.\n      2. Its Expansion.\n      3. 'Eternal Life.'\n  II. Life, in its Social Aspect--\n      1. 'The Kingdom of God'--\n         Eschatological Interpretation.\n         Untenableness of _Interimsethik_.\n      2. Christ's View of Kingdom--\n         (1) A Present Reality--a Gift.\n         (2) A Gradual Development--a Task.\n         (3) A Future Consummation--a Hope.\n III. Life, in its Godward Aspect--\n      1. Holiness.\n      2. Righteousness.\n      3. Love.\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nSTANDARD AND MOTIVE  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  146\n\n   I. Christ as Example--\n      1. Portrayal by Synoptists--\n         (1) Artlessness of Disciples.\n         (2) Naturalness of Jesus,\n      2. Impression of Power--\n         (1) Power of Loyalty to Calling.\n         (2) Power of Holiness.\n         (3) Power of Sympathy.\n      3. Value of Jesus' Example for Present Life--\n         Misconception of Phrase 'Imitation of Christ.'\n  II. The Christian Motive--\n      1. Analysis of Springs of Conduct--\n         (1) Divine Forgiveness.\n         (2) Fatherhood of God.\n         (3) Sense of Vocation.\n         (4) Brevity of Life.\n         (5) Idea of Immortality.\n      2. Question as to Purity of Motive--\n         (1) Charge of Asceticism.\n         (2) Charge of Hedonism.\n      3. Doctrine of Rewards--\n         (1) In Philosophy.\n         (2) In Christianity--(_a_) Jesus; (_b_) Paul.\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE DYNAMIC OF THE NEW LIFE  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  164\n\n   I. Divine Power--\n      Operative through Christ's\n      1. Incarnation and Life.\n      2. Death and Sacrifice.\n      3. Resurrection and Indwelling Presence.\n  II. Human Response--\n      1. Repentance--\n         (1) Contrition--Confession--Resolution.\n         (2) Question of 'Sudden Conversion.'\n         (3) 'Twice Born' or 'Once Born.'\n      2. Faith--\n         (1) In Ordinary Life.\n         (2) In Teaching of Jesus.\n         (3) The Pauline Doctrine.\n      3. Obedience--\n         (1) Active Appropriation of Grace.\n         (2) Determination of Whole Personality.\n         (3) Gradual Assimilation.\n\n\nSECTION D--CONDUCT\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nVIRTUES AND VIRTUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  183\n\n   Definition of Virtue.\n   I. The Natural Basis of the Virtues--\n      'The Cardinal Virtues.'\n  II. The Christian Transformation of the Virtues--\n      1. The New Testament Account.\n      2. Cardinal Virtues, Elements of Christian Character.\n      3. Place of Passive Virtues in Life.\n III. The Unification of the Virtues--\n      1. Unity in Relation to God.\n      2. Love, Spring of all Virtues,\n      3. 'Theological Virtues,' Aspects of Love.\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE REALM OF DUTY  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  199\n\n   I. Aspects of Duty--\n      1. Duty and Vocation.\n      2. Conflict of Duties--\n         (1) Competing Obligations.\n         (2) 'Counsels of Perfection.'\n         (3) Indifferent Acts.\n      3. Rights and Duties--\n         (1) Claim of 'Natural Rights.'\n         (2) Based on Worth of Individual.\n         (3) Christian Idea of Liberty.\n  II. Spheres of Duty--\n      1. Duties in Relation to Self--\n         (1) Self-Respect.\n         (2) Self-Preservation.\n         (3) Self-Development--\n             Self-regarding Duties not prominent in Scripture.\n             Self-Realisation through Self-Sacrifice.\n      2. Duties in Relation to Others--\n         (1) Regard for Man: Brotherly Love--\n             (_a_) Justice.\n             (_b_) Veracity.\n             (_c_) Judgment.\n         (2) Service--\n             (_a_) Sympathy.\n             (_b_) Beneficence.\n             (_c_) Forgiveness.\n         (3) Example and Influence.\n      3. Duties in Relation to God--\n         (1) Recognition.\n         (2) Obedience--Passive and Active.\n         (3) Worship--Reverence, Prayer, Thanksgiving.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nSOCIAL INSTITUTIONS  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   230\n\n   I. The Family--\n      1. Origin and Evolution of Family.\n      2. Christian view--\n         (1) Christ's Teaching on Marriage.\n         (2) State Regulation and Eugenics.\n         (3) Tendencies to Disparagement.\n      3. Family Relationships--\n         (1) Parents and Children.\n         (2) Woman's Place and Rights.\n         (3) Child Life and Education.\n  II. The State--\n      1. Basis of Authority--\n         Tolstoy and Anarchism.\n         'Social Contract.'\n      2. State, in New Testament.\n      3. Modern Conceptions--\n         Views of Augustine and Hegel.\n         (1) Duty of State to Citizens.\n         (2) Duty of Citizens to State.\n         (3) The Democratic Movement--\n             Reciprocity of Service and Sense of Brotherhood.\n III. The Church--\n      1. Relation of Church and State.\n      2. Purpose and Ideal of Church--\n         (1) Worship and Edification.\n         (2) Witness to Christ.\n         (3) Evangelisation of Mankind.\n      3. The Church and the Social Problem--\n         (1) Christ's Teaching as to Industry and Wealth.\n         (2) Attitude of Early Church to Society.\n         (3) Of Roman and Reformed Churches.\n      4. Duty of Christianity to the World--\n         The Missionary Imperative and Opportunity.\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nCONCLUSION--THE PERMANENCE OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS . . . . . . .  245\n\nBIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  248\n\nINDEX  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  263\n\n\n\n\n{1}\n\nCHRISTIANITY AND ETHICS\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nA PLEA FOR THE STUDY OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS\n\nIf, as Matthew Arnold says, conduct is three-fourths of life, then a\ncareful inquiry into the laws of conduct is indispensable to the proper\ninterpretation of the meaning and purpose of life.  Conduct of itself,\nhowever, is merely the outward expression of character; and character\nagain has its roots in personality; so that if we are to form a just\nconception of life we have to examine the forces which shape human\npersonality and raise it to its highest power and efficiency.  In\nestimating the value of man all the facts of consciousness and\nexperience must be considered.  Hence no adequate account of the end of\nlife can be given without regard to that which, if it is true, must be\nthe most stupendous fact of history--the fact of Christ.\n\nIf the Christian is a man to whom no incident of experience is secular\nand no duty insignificant, because all things belong to God and all\nlife is dominated by the spirit of Christ, then Christian Ethics must\nbe the application of Christianity to conduct; and its theme must be\nthe systematic study of the ideals and forces which are alone adequate\nto shape character and fit man for the highest conceivable\ndestiny--fellowship with, and likeness to, the Divine Being in whose\nimage he has been made.  This, of course, may be said to be the aim of\nall theology.  The theologian must not be content to discuss merely\nspeculative problems about God and man.  He must seek above {2} all\nthings to bring the truths of revelation to bear upon human practice.\nAll knowledge has its practical implicate.  The dogma which cannot be\ntranslated into duty is apt to be a vague abstraction.\n\nIn all ages there has been a tendency to separate truth and duty.  But\nknowledge has two sides; it is at once a revelation and a challenge.\nThere is no truth which has not its corresponding obligation, and no\nobligation which has not its corresponding truth.  And not until every\ntruth is rounded into its duty, and every duty is referred back into\nits truth shall we attain to that clearness of vision and consistency\nof moral life, to promote which is the primary task of Christian Ethics.\n\nIt is this practical element which gives to the study of morals its\njustification and makes it specially important for the Christian\nteacher.  In this sense Ethics is really the crown of theology and\nought to be the end of all previous study.\n\nAs a separate branch of study Christian Ethics dates only from the\nReformation.  It was natural, and perhaps inevitable that the first\nefforts of the Church should be occupied with the formation and\nelaboration of dogma.  With a few notable exceptions, among whom may be\nmentioned Basil, Clement, Alquin and Thomas Aquinas, the Church fathers\nand schoolmen paid but scanty attention to the ethical side of\nreligion.  It was only after the Reformation that theology, Roman and\nProtestant alike, was divided into different branches.  The Roman\nCatholic name for what we style Ethics is 'moral philosophy,' which,\nhowever, consists mainly of directions for father confessors in their\ndealing with perplexed souls.  Christian Ethics appears for the first\ntime as the name of a treatise by a French theologian of the\nCalvinistic persuasion--Danaeus, whose work, however, is confined to an\nexposition of the Decalogue.  The first recorded work of the Lutheran\nchurch is the _Theologia Moralis_, written in 1634, by George Calixtus.\n\nBut the modern study of the subject really dates from {3}\nSchleiermacher (1768-1834), who divides theology into two sections,\nDogmatics and Ethics, giving to the latter an independent treatment.\nSince his time Ethics has been regarded as a separate discipline, and\nwithin the last few decades increasing attention has been devoted to it.\n\nThis strong ethical tendency is one of the most noticeable features of\nthe present age.  Everywhere to-day the personal human interest is in\nevidence.  We see it in the literature of the age and especially in the\nbest poetry, beginning already with Coleridge and Wordsworth, and\ncontinued in Tennyson and Browning.  It is the inner life of man as\ndepicted to us by these master singers, the story of the soul, even\nmore than the delineation of nature which appeals to man's deepest\nexperience and evokes his finest response.  We see it in the art of our\ntimes, which, not content to be a mere expression of sensuous beauty or\nlifeless nature, seeks to be instinct with human sympathy and to become\nthe vehicle of the ideas and aims of man.  We see it in modern fiction,\nwhich is no longer the narration of a simple tale, but the subtle\nanalysis of character, and the intricate study of the passions and\nambitions of common life.  History to-day is not concerned so much with\nrecording the intrigues of kings and the movements of armies as with\nscrutinising the motives and estimating the personal forces which have\nshaped the ages.  Even in the domain of theology itself this tendency\nis visible.  Our theologians are not content with discussing abstract\ndoctrines or recounting the decisions of church councils, but are\nturning to the gospels and seeking to depict the life of Jesus--to\nprobe the secret of His divine humanity and to interpret the meaning\nfor the world of His unique personality.\n\nNor is this tendency confined to professional thinkers and theologians,\nit is affecting the common mind of the laity.  'Never was there a\ntime,' says a modern writer, 'when plain people were less concerned\nwith the metaphysics or the ecclesiasticism of Christianity.  The\nconstruction of systems and the contention of creeds which once\nappeared the central themes of human interest are now {4} regarded by\nmillions of busy men and women as mere echoes of ancient controversies,\nif not mere mockeries of the problems of the present day.'  The Church\nunder the inspiration of this new feeling for humanity is turning with\nfresh interest to the contemplation of the character of Jesus Christ,\nand is rising to a more lofty idea of its responsibilities towards the\nworld.  More than ever in the past, it is now felt that Christianity\nmust vindicate itself as a practical religion; and that in view of the\ngreat problems--scientific, social and industrial, which the new\nconditions of an advancing civilisation have created, the Church, if it\nis to fulfil its function as the interpreter and guide of thought, must\ncome down from its heights of calm seclusion and grapple with the\nactual difficulties of men, not indeed by assuming a political role or\nacting as a divider and judge amid conflicting secular aims, but by\nrevealing the mind of Christ and bringing the principles of the gospel\nto bear upon the complex life of society.\n\nNo one who reflects upon the spirit of the times will doubt that there\nare reasons of urgent importance why this aspect of Christian life and\nduty, which we have been considering, should be specially insisted upon\nto-day.  Of these the first and foremost is the prevalence of a\nmaterialistic philosophy.  Taking its rise in the evolutionary theories\nof last century, this view is now being applied with relentless logic\nas an interpretation of the problems of society by a school of\nsocialistic writers.  Man, it is said, is the creature of heredity and\nenvironment alone.  Condition creates character, and relief from the\nwoes of humanity is to be sought, not in the transformation of the\nindividual but in the revolutionising of the circumstances of life.  As\na consequence of this philosophy of externalism there is a filtering\ndown of these materialistic views to the multitude, who care, indeed,\nlittle for theories, but are quick to be affected by a prevailing tone.\nUnderlying the feeling of unrest and dissatisfaction, so marked a\nfeature of our present day life, there is distinctly discernible among\nthe masses a loosening of religious faith and a slackening {5} of moral\nobligation.  The idea of personality and the sense of duty are not so\nvivid and strong as they used to be.  A vague sentimentalising about\nsin has taken the place of the more robust view of earlier times, and\nevil is traced to untoward environment rather than to feebleness of\nindividual will.  And finally, to name no other cause, there is a\ntendency in our day among all classes to divorce religion from life--to\nseparate the sacred from the secular, and to regard worship and work as\nbelonging to two entirely distinct realms of existence.\n\nFor these reasons, among others, there is a special need, as it seems\nto us, for a systematic study of Christian Ethics on the part of those\nwho are to be the leaders of thought and the teachers of the people.\nThe materialistic view of life must be met by a more adequate Christian\nphilosophy.  The unfaith and pessimism of the age must be overcome by\nthe advocacy of an idealistic conception which insists not only upon\nthe personality and worth of man, involving duties as well as rights,\nbut also upon the supremacy of conscience in obedience to the law of\nChrist.  Above all, we need an ethic which will show that religion must\nbe co-extensive with life, transfiguring and spiritualising all its\nactivities and relationships.  Life is a unity and all duty is one,\nwhether it be duty to God or duty to man.  It must be all of a piece,\nlike the robe of Christ, woven from the top to the bottom without seam.\nIt takes its spring from one source and is dominated by one spirit.  In\nthe Christianity of Christ there stand conspicuous two great ideas\nbound together, indeed, in a higher--love to God the Father.  These are\npersonal perfection and the service of mankind--the culture of self and\nthe care of others.  'Be ye perfect' and 'love your neighbour as\nyourself.'  It is the glory of Christianity to have harmonised these\nseemingly competing aims.  The disciple of Christ finds that he cannot\nrealise his own life except as he seeks the good of others; and that he\ncannot effectively help his fellows except by giving to them that which\nhe himself is.  This, as we take it, is the Christian conception of the\nmoral life; and it is {6} the business of Christian Ethics to show that\nit is at once reasonable and practical.\n\n\nThe present volume will be divided into _four_ main parts, entitled,\n_Postulates_, _Personality_, _Character_ and _Conduct_.  The _first_\nwill deal with the meaning of Ethics generally and its relation to\ncognate subjects; and specially with the Philosophical, Psychological\nand Theological presuppositions of Christian Ethics.  The _second_ part\nwill be devoted to man as moral subject, and will analyse the\ncapacities of the soul which respond to the calls and claims of the new\nLife.  The _third_ Section will involve a consideration of the\nformative Principles of Character, the moulding of the soul, the\nIdeals, Motives and Forces by means of which the 'New Man' is\n'recreated' and fashioned.  _Finally_, under Conduct, the Virtues,\nDuties and Rights of man will be discussed; and the various spheres of\nservice and institutions of society examined in relation to which the\nmoral life in its individual and social aspects is manifested and\ndeveloped.\n\n\n\n\n{7}\n\nSECTION A\n\nPOSTULATES\n\n{9}\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE NATURE AND SCOPE OF ETHICS\n\nPhilosophy has been defined as 'thinking things together.'  Every man,\nsays Hegel, is a philosopher, and in so far as it is the natural\ntendency of the human mind to connect and unify the manifold phenomena\nof life, the paradox of the German thinker is not without a measure of\ntruth.  But while this is only the occasional pastime of the ordinary\nindividual, it is the conscious and habitual aim of the philosopher.\nIn daily life people are wont to make assumptions which they do not\nverify, and employ figures of speech which of necessity are partial and\ninadequate.  It is the business of philosophy to investigate the\npre-suppositions of common life and to translate into realities the\npictures of ordinary language.  It was the method of Socrates to\nchallenge the current modes of speaking and to ask his fellow-men what\nthey meant when they used such words as 'goodness,' 'virtue,'\n'justice.'  Every time you employ any of these terms, he said, you\nvirtually imply a whole theory of life.  If you would have an\nintelligent understanding of yourself and the world of which you form a\npart, you must cease to live by custom and speak by rote.  You must\nseek to bring the manifold phenomena of the universe and the various\nexperiences of life into some kind of unity and see them as\nco-ordinated parts of a whole.\n\nWhen men thus begin to reflect on the origin and connection of things,\nthree questions at once suggest themselves--what, how, and why?  What\nis the world?  How do I know it? and why am I here?  We might briefly\nclassify the three great departments of human thought as attempts {10}\nto answer these three inquiries.  What exists is the problem of\nMetaphysics.  What am I and how do I know? is the question of\nPsychology.  What is my purpose, what am I to do? is the subject of\nEthics.  These questions are closely related, and the answer given to\none largely determines the solution of the others.  The truths gained\nby philosophical thought are not confined to the kingdom of abstract\nspeculation but apply in the last resort to life.  The impulse to know\nis only a phase of the more general impulse to be and to act.  Beneath\nall man's activities, as their source and spring, there is ever some\ndim perception of an end to be attained.  'The ultimate end,' says\nPaulsen, 'impelling men to meditate upon the nature of the universe,\nwill always be the desire to reach some conclusion concerning the\nmeaning of the source and goal of their lives.'  The origin and aim of\nall philosophy is consequently to be sought in Ethics.\n\nI.  If we ask more particularly what Ethics is, definition affords us\nsome light.  It is to Aristotle that we are indebted for the earliest\nuse of this term, and it was he who gave to the subject its title and\nsystematic form.  The name _ta ethika_ is derived from _ethos_,\ncharacter, which again is closely connected with _ethos_, signifying\ncustom.  Ethics, therefore, according to Aristotle is the science of\ncharacter, character being understood to mean according to its\netymology, customs or habits of conduct.  But while the modern usage of\nthe term 'character' suggests greater inwardness than would seem to be\nimplied in the ancient definition, it must be remembered that under the\ntitle of Ethics Aristotle had in view, not only a description of the\noutward habits of man, but also that which gives to custom its value,\nviz., the sources of action, the motives, and especially the ends which\nguide a man in the conduct of life.  But since men live before they\nreflect, Ethics and Morality are not synonymous.  So long as there is a\ncongruity between the customs of a people and the practical\nrequirements of life, ethical questions do not occur.  It is only when\ndifficulties arise as to matters of right, for which the {11} existing\nusages of society offer no solution, that reflection upon morality\nawakens.  No longer content with blindly accepting the formulae of the\npast, men are prompted to ask, whence do these customs come, and what\nis their authority?  In the conflict of duties, which a wider outlook\ninevitably creates, the inquirer seeks to estimate their relative\nvalues, and to bring his conception of life into harmony with the\nhigher demands and larger ideals which have been disclosed to him.\nThis has been the invariable course of ethical inquiry.  At different\nstages of history--in the age of the Sophists of Ancient Greece, when\nmen were no longer satisfied with the old forms of life and truth: at\nthe dawn of the Christian era, when a new ideal was revealed in Christ:\nduring the period of the Reformation, when men threw off the bondage of\nthe past and made a stand for the rights of the individual conscience:\nand in more recent times, when in the field of political life the\nantithesis between individual and social instincts had awakened larger\nand more enlightened views of civic and social responsibility--the\nstudy of Ethics, as a science of moral life, has come to the front.\n\nEthics may, therefore, be defined as the science of the end of\nlife--the science which inquires into its meaning and purpose.  But\ninasmuch as the end or purpose of life involves the idea of some good\nwhich is in harmony with the highest conceivable well-being of\nman--some good which belongs to the true fulfilment of life--Ethics may\nalso be defined as the science of the highest good or _summum bonum_.\n\nFinally, Ethics may be considered not only as the science of the\nhighest good or ultimate end of life, but also as the study of all that\nconditions that end, the dispositions, desires and motives of the\nindividual, all the facts and forces which bear upon the will and shape\nhuman life in its various social relationships.\n\nII.  Arising out of this general definition three features may be\nmentioned as descriptive of its distinctive character among the\nsciences.\n\n{12}\n\n1.  Ethics is concerned with the _ideal_ of life.  By an ideal we mean\na better state of being than has been actually realised.  We are\nconfessedly not as we should be, and there floats before the minds of\nmen a vision of some higher condition of life and society than that\nwhich exists.  Life divorced from an ideal is ethically valueless.\nSome conception of the supreme good is the imperative demand and moral\nnecessity of man's being.  Hence the chief business of Ethics is to\nanswer the question: What is the supreme good?  For what should a man\nlive?  What, in short, is the ideal of life?  In this respect Ethics as\na science is distinguished from the physical sciences.  They explain\nfacts and trace sequences, but they do not form ideals or endeavour to\nmove the will in the direction of them.\n\n2.  Ethics again is concerned with a _norm_ of life, and in this sense\nit is frequently styled a normative science.  That is to say, it is a\nscience which prescribes rules or maxims according to which life is to\nbe regulated.  This is sometimes expressed by saying that Ethics treats\nof what _ought to be_.  The ideal must not be one which simply floats\nin the air.  It must be an ideal which is possible, and, therefore, as\nsuch, obligatory.  It is useless to feel the worth of a certain idea,\nor even to speak of the desirability of it, if we do not feel also that\nit ought to be realised.  Moral judgments imply an 'ought,' and that\n'ought' implies a norm or standard, in the light of which, as a\ncriterion, all obligation must be tested, and according to which all\nconduct must be regulated.\n\n3.  Ethics, once more, is concerned with the _will_.  It is based\nspecifically on the fact that man is not only an intellectual being\n(capable of knowing) and a sensitive being (possessed of feeling) but\nalso a volitional being; that is, a being endowed with self-determining\nactivity.  It implies that man is responsible for his intentions,\ndispositions and actions.  The idea of a supreme ideal at which he is\nto aim and a norm or standard of conduct according to which he ought to\nregulate his life, would have no meaning if we did not presuppose the\npower of self-determination.  {13} Whatever is not willed has no moral\nvalue.  Where there is no freedom of choice, we cannot speak of an\naction as either good or evil.[1]  When we praise or blame a man's\nconduct we do so under the assumption that his action is voluntary.  In\nall moral action purpose is implied.  This is the meaning of the\nwell-known dictum of Kant, 'There is nothing in the world . . . that\ncan be called good without qualification except a good will.  A good\nwill is good, not because of what it performs or effects, not by its\naptness for the attainment of some proposed end, but simply by virtue\nof the volition.'[2]  It is the inner aim, the good will which alone\ngives moral worth to any endeavour.  It is not what I do but the reason\nwhy I do it which is chiefly of ethical value.  The essence of virtue\nresides in the will, not in the achievement; in the intention or\nmotive, not in the result.\n\nIII.  The propriety of styling Ethics a science has sometimes been\nquestioned.  Science, it is said, has to do with certain necessary and\nuniform facts of experience; its object is simply to trace effects from\ncauses and to formulate laws according to which sequences inevitably\nresult from certain ascertained causes or observed facts.  But is not\ncharacter, with which Ethics confessedly deals, just that concerning\nwhich no definite conclusions can be predicted?  Is not conduct,\ndependent as it is on the human will, just the element in man which\ncannot be explained as the resultant of calculable forces?  If the will\nis free, and is the chief factor in the moulding of life, then you\ncannot forecast what line conduct will take or predict what shape\ncharacter will assume.  The whole conception of Ethics as a science\nmust, it is contended, fall to the ground, if we admit a variable and\nincalculable element in conduct.\n\nSome writers, on this account, are disposed to regard Ethics as an art\nrather than a science, and indeed, like every normative science, it may\nbe regarded as lying midway between them.  A science may be said to\nteach us to know {14} and an art to do: but as has been well remarked,\n'a normative science teaches to know how to do.'[3]  Ethics may indeed\nbe regarded both as a science and an art.  In so far as it examines and\nexplains certain phenomena of character it is a science: but in so far\nas it attempts to regulate human conduct by instruction and advice it\nis an art.[4]  Yet when all is said, in so far as Ethics has to do with\nthe volitional side of man,--with decisions and acts of will,--there\nmust be something indeterminate and problematic in it which precludes\nit from being designated an exact science.  A certain variableness\nbelongs to character, and conduct cannot be pronounced good or bad\nwithout reference to the acting subject.  Actions cannot be wholly\nexplained by law, and a large portion of human life (and that the\nhighest and noblest) eludes analysis.  A human being is not simply a\npart of the world.  He is able to break in upon the sequence of events\nand set in motion new forces whose effects neither he himself nor his\nfellows can estimate.  It is the unique quality of rational beings that\nin great things and in small things they act from ideas.  The magic\npower of thought cannot be exaggerated.  Great conceptions have great\nconsequences, and they rule the world.  A new spiritual idea shoots\nforth its rays and enlightens to larger issues generations of men.\nThere is a mystery in every forth-putting of will-power, and every\nexpression of personality.  Character cannot be computed.  The art of\ngoodness, of living nobly, if so unconscious a thing may be called an\nart, is one certainly which defies complete scientific treatment.  It\nis with facts like these that Ethics has to do; and while we may lay\ndown broad general principles which must underlie the teaching of every\ntrue prophet and the conduct of every good man, there will always be an\nelement with which science cannot cope.\n\nIV.  It will not be necessary, after what has been said, to trace at\nany length the relations between Ethics and the {15} special mental\nsciences, such as Logic, Aesthetics, and Politics.\n\n1.  _Logic_ is the science of the formal laws of thought, and is\nconcerned not with the truth of phenomena, but merely with the laws of\ncorrect reasoning about them.  Ethics establishes the laws according to\nwhich we ought to act.  Logic legislates for the reason, and decerns\nthe laws which the intellect must obey if it would think correctly.\nBoth sciences determine what is valid; but while Logic is confined to\nthe realm of what is valid in reasoning, Ethics is occupied with what\nis valid in action.  There is, indeed, a logic of life; and in so far\nas all true conduct must have a rational element in it and be guided by\ncertain intelligible forms, Ethics may be described as a kind of logic\nof character.\n\n2.  The connection between Ethics and _Aesthetics_ is closer.\nAesthetics is the science of the laws of beauty, while Ethics is the\nscience of the laws of the good.  But in so far as Aesthetics deals\nwith the emotions rather than the reason it comes into contact with\nEthics in the psychological field.  In its narrower sense Aesthetics\ndeals with beauty merely in an impersonal way; and its immediate object\nis not what is morally beautiful, but rather that which is beautiful in\nitself irrespective of moral considerations.  Ethics, on the other\nhand, is concerned with personal worth as expressed in perfection of\nwill and action.  Conduct may be beautiful and character may afford\nAesthetic satisfaction, but Ethics, in so far as it is concerned with\njudgments of virtue, is independent of all thought of the mere beauty\nor utility of conduct.  Aesthetic consideration may indeed aid\npractical morality, but it is not identical with it.  It is conceivable\nthat what is right may not be immediately beautiful, and may indeed in\nits pursuit or realisation involve action which contradicts our ideas\nof beauty.  But though both sciences have different aims they are\noccupied largely with the same emotions, and are connected by a common\nidealising purpose.  In the deepest sense, what is good is beautiful\nand what is beautiful is good; and {16} ultimately, in the moral and\nspiritual life, goodness and beauty coincide.  Indeed, so close is the\nconnection between the two conceptions that the Greeks used the same\nword, _to kalon_, to express beauty of form and nobility of character.\nAnd even in modern times the expression 'a beautiful soul,' indicates\nthe intimate relation between inner excellence of life and outward\nattractiveness.  Both Aesthetics and Ethics have regard to that\nsymmetry or proportion of life which fulfils our ideas at once of\ngoodness and of beauty.  In this sense Schiller sought to remove the\nsharpness of Kant's moral theory by claiming a place in the moral life\nfor beauty.  Our actions are, indeed, good when we do our duty because\nwe ought, but they are beautiful when we do it because we cannot do\notherwise, because they have become our second nature.  The purpose of\nall culture, says Schiller, is to harmonise reason and sense, and thus\nto fulfil the idea of a perfect manhood.[5]\n\n  'When I dared question: \"It is beautiful,\n  But is it true?\" Thy answer was, \"In truth lives beauty.\"'[6]\n\n\n3.  _Politics_ is still more closely related to Ethics, and indeed\nEthics may be said to comprehend Politics.  Both deal with human action\nand institution, and cover largely the same field.  For man is not\nmerely an individual, but is a part of a social organism.  We cannot\nconsider the virtues of the individual life without also considering\nthe society to which he is related, and the interaction of the whole\nand its part.  Politics is usually defined as the science of\ngovernment, which of course, involves all the institutions and laws\naffecting men's relations to each other.  But while Politics is\nstrictly concerned only with the outward condition of the state's\nwell-being and the external order of {17} the community, Ethics seeks\nthe internal good or virtue of mankind, and is occupied with an ideal\nsociety in which each individual shall be able to realise the true aim\nand meaning of life.  But after all, as Aristotle said, Politics is\nreally a branch of Ethics, and both are inseparable from, and\ncomplementary of each other.  On the one hand, Ethics cannot ignore the\nmaterial conditions of human welfare nor minimise the economic forces\nwhich shape society and make possible the moral aims of man.  On the\nother hand, Economics must recognise the service of ethical study, and\nkeep in view the moral purposes of life, otherwise it is apt to limit\nits consideration to merely selfish and material ends.\n\nV.  While Ethics is thus closely connected with the sciences just\nnamed, there are two departments of knowledge, pre-supposed indeed in\nall mental studies, which in a very intimate way affect the science of\nEthics.  These are Metaphysics on the one hand and Psychology on the\nother.\n\n1.  Metaphysics is pre-supposed by all the sciences; and indeed, all\nour views of life, even our simplest experiences, involve metaphysical\nassumptions.  It has been well said that the attempt to construct an\nethical theory without a metaphysical basis issues not in a moral\nscience without assumptions, but in an Ethics which becomes confused in\nphilosophical doubts.  Leslie Stephen proposes to ignore Metaphysics,\nand remarks that he is content 'to build upon the solid earth.'  But,\nas has been pertinently asked, 'How does he know that the earth is\nsolid on which he builds?'  This is a question of Metaphysics.[7]  The\nclaim is frequently made by a certain class of writers, that we\nwithdraw ourselves from all metaphysical sophistries, and betake\nourselves to the guidance of commonsense.  But what is this commonsense\nof which the ordinary man vaunts himself?  It is in reality a number of\nvague assumptions borrowed unconsciously from old exploded\ntheories--assertions, opinions, beliefs, accumulated, no one knows how,\n{18} and accepted as settled judgments.[8]  We do not escape philosophy\nby refusing to think.  Some kind of theory of life is implied in such\nwords, 'soul,' 'duty,' 'freedom,' 'power,' 'God,' which the\nunreflecting mind is daily using.  It is useless to say we can dispense\nwith philosophy, for that is simply to content ourselves with bad\nphilosophy.  'To ignore the progress and development in the history of\nPhilosophy,' says T. H. Green,[9] 'is not to return to the simplicity\nof a pre-philosophic age, but to condemn ourselves to grope in the maze\nof cultivated opinion, itself the confused result of these past systems\nof thought which we will not trouble ourselves to think out.'  The aim\nof all philosophy, as Plato said, is just to correct the assumptions of\nthe ordinary mind, and to grasp in their unity and cohesion the\nultimate principles which the mind feels must be at the root of all\nreality.  We have an ethical interest in determining whether there be\nany moral reality beneath the appearances of the world.  Ethical\nquestions, therefore, run back into Metaphysics.  If we take\nMetaphysics in its widest sense as involving the idea of some ultimate\nend, to the realisation of which the whole process of the world as\nknown to us is somehow a means, we may easily see that metaphysical\ninquiry, though distinct from ethical, is its necessary\npre-supposition.  The Being or Purpose of God, the great first cause,\nthe world as fashioned, ordered and interpenetrated by Him, and man as\nconditioned by and dependent upon the Deity--are postulates of the\nmoral life and must be accepted as a basis of all ethical study.  The\ndistinction between Ethics and Philosophy did not arise at once.  In\nearly Greek speculation, almost to the time of Aristotle, Metaphysics\nand Morals were not separated.  And even in later times, Spinoza and to\nsome extent Green, though they professedly treat of Ethics, hardly\ndissociate metaphysical from ethical considerations.  Nor is that to be\nwondered at when men are dealing with the first principles of all being\nand life.  Our view of God and of the {19} world, our fundamental\n_Welt-Anschauung_ cannot but determine our view of man and his moral\nlife.  In every philosophical system from Plato to Hegel, in which the\nuniverse is regarded as having a rational meaning and ultimate end, the\ngood of human beings is conceived as identical with, or at least as\nincluded in the universal good.\n\n2.  But if a sound metaphysical basis be a necessary requisite for the\nadequate consideration of Ethics, _Psychology_ as the science of the\nhuman soul is so vitally connected with Ethics, that the two studies\nmay almost be treated as branches of one subject.  An Ethic which takes\nno account of psychological assumptions would be impossible.\nConsciously or unconsciously every treatment of moral subjects is\npermeated by the view of the soul or personality of man which the\nwriter has adopted, and his meaning of conduct will be largely\ndetermined by the theory of human freedom and responsibility with which\nhe starts.  Questions as to character and duty invariably lead to\ninquiries as to certain states of the agent's mind, as to the functions\nand possibilities of his natural capacities and powers.  We cannot\npronounce an action morally good or bad until we have determined the\nextent and limits of his faculties and have investigated the questions\nof disposition and purpose, of intention and motive, which lie at the\nroot of all conduct, and without which actions are neither moral nor\nimmoral.  It is surely a mistake to say, as some do, that as logic\ndeals with the correctness of reasoning, so Ethics deals only with the\ncorrectness of conduct, and is not directly concerned with the\nprocesses by which we come to act correctly.[10]  On the contrary,\nmerely correct action may be ethically worthless, and conduct obtains\nits moral value from the motives or intentions which actuate and\ndetermine it.  Ethics cannot, therefore, ignore the psychological\nprocesses of feeling, desiring and willing of the acting subject.  It\nis indeed true that in ordinary life men are frequently judged to be\ngood or bad, according to the outward effect of their actions, and\nmaterial results are often regarded as the sole {20} measure of good.\nBut while it may be a point of difficulty in theoretic morality to\ndetermine the comparative worth and mutual relation of good affections\nand good actions, all surely will allow that a certain quality of\ndisposition or motive in the agent is required to constitute an action\nmorally good, and that it is not enough to measure virtue by its\nutility or its beneficial effect alone.  Hence all moralists are agreed\nthat the main object of their investigation must belong to the\npsychical side of human life--whether they hold that man's ultimate end\nis to be found in the sphere of pleasure or maintain that his\nwell-being lies in the realisation of virtue for its own sake.  The\nproblems as to the origin and adequacy of conscience, as to the meaning\nand validity of voluntary action; the questions concerning motives and\ndesires, as to the historical evolution of moral customs, and man's\nrelation at each stage of his history to the social, political and\nreligious institutions amid which he lives--are subjects which, though\nfalling within the scope of Ethics, have their roots in the science of\nthe soul.  The very existence of a science of Ethics depends upon the\nanswers which Psychology gives to such questions.  If, for example, it\nbe decided that there is in man no such faculty or organ as conscience,\nand that what men so designate is but a natural manifestation gradually\nevolved in and through the physical and social development of man: or\nif we deny the self-determining power of human beings and assume that\nwhat we call the freedom of the will is a delusion (or at least, in the\nlast resort, a negligible element) and that man is but one of the many\nphenomena or facts of a physical universe--then we may continue,\nindeed, as some evolutionary and naturalistic thinkers do, to speak of\na science of Ethics, but such a science will not be a study of the\nmoral life as we understand it and have defined it.\n\nEthics, therefore, while dependent upon the philosophical sciences, has\nits own distinct content and scope.  The end of life, that for which a\nman should live, with all its implications, forms the subject of moral\ninquiry.  It is {21} concerned not merely with what a man is or\nactually does, but more specifically with what he should be and should\ndo.  Hence, as we have seen, the word 'ought' is the most distinctive\nterm of Ethics involving a consideration of values and a relation of\nthe actual and the ideal.  The 'ought' of life constitutes at once the\npurpose, law, and reason of conduct.  It proposes the three great\nquestions involved in all ethical inquiry--whither? how? and why? and\ndetermines the three great words which are constantly recurring in\nevery ethical system--end, norm, motive.  Moral good is the moral end\nconsidered as realised.  The moral norm or rule impelling the will to\nthe realisation of this end is called Duty.  The moral motive\nconsidered as an acquired power of the acting will is called Virtue.[11]\n\n\n\n[1] Cf. Mackenzie, _Manual of Ethics_, p. 32; also Wuttke, _Christian\nEthics_ (Eng. Trans.), vol. i. p. 14.\n\n[2] _Metaph. of Morals_, sect. i.\n\n[3] Mackenzie, _Manual of Ethics_, p. 8.  See also Muirhead, _Elements\nof Ethics_.\n\n[4] Hyslop, _Elements of Ethics_, p. 1.\n\n[5] Schiller, _Ueber Anmuth und Wuerde_.  Cf. also Ruskin, _Mod.\nPainters_, vol. ii.; Seeley, _Natural Religion_, and Inge, _Faith and\nits Psychology_, p. 203 ff.  See also Bosanquet _Hist. of Aesthetic_.\nWe are indebted to _Romanticism_, and especially to Novalis in Germany\nand Cousin in France for the thought that the good and the beautiful\nmeet and amalgamate in God.\n\n[6] Browning.\n\n[7] Cf. Newman Smyth, _Christian Ethics_, p. 8.\n\n[8] See Author's _History of Philosophy_, p. 585.\n\n[9] Introduction to Hume's _Works_.\n\n[10] Mackenzie seems to imply this view.  _Ethics_, p. 25.\n\n[11] Cf. Haering, _Ethics of the Christian Life_, p. 9.\n\n\n\n\n{22}\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE POSTULATES OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS\n\nWe now proceed to define Christian Ethics and to investigate the\nparticular postulates, philosophical and theological, upon which it\nrests.\n\nChristian Ethics presupposes the Christian view of life as revealed in\nChrist, and its definition must be in harmony with the Christian ideal.\nThe prime question of Christian Ethics is, How ought Christians to\norder their lives?  It is therefore the science of morals as\nconditioned by Christian faith; and the problems it discusses are, the\nnature, meaning and laws of the moral life as dominated by the supreme\ngood which has been revealed to the world in the Person and Teaching of\nChrist.  It is based upon an historical event, and presupposes a\nparticular development and consummation of the world.\n\n\nI\n\n_The Relation of Christian to Philosophical Ethics_.--Christian Ethics\nis a branch of general Ethics.  But it is something more; it is Ethics\nin its richest and fullest expression--the interpretation of life which\ncorresponds to the supreme manifestation of the divine will.  For if\nthe revelation of God in Christ is true, then that revelation is not\nmerely a factor, but the factor, which must dominate and colour man's\nwhole outlook and give an entirely new value to all his aims and\nactions.  In Christianity we are confronted with the motive-power of a\ngreat Personality who has entered into the current of human history and\n{23} given a new direction to the moral life of man.  Man's life at its\nhighest can only be interpreted in the light of this supreme\nrevelation, and can only be accounted for as the creation of the\ndynamic force of this unique Personality.\n\nBut while this truth gives to Christian Ethics its distinctive\ncharacter and pre-eminent worth it does not throw discredit upon\nphilosophical Ethics, nor indeed separate the two departments by any\nhard and fast lines.  They have much in common.  A large domain of\nconduct is covered by both.  The so-called pagan virtues have their\nvalue for Christian character and are in the line of Christian virtue.\nEven in his natural state man is constituted for the moral life, and,\nas St. Paul states, is not without some knowledge of right and wrong.\nThe moral attainments of the ancients are not to be regarded simply as\n'splendid vices,' but as positive achievements of good.  Duty may\ndiffer in content, but it is of the same kind under any system.  Purity\nis purity and benevolence benevolence, whether manifested in a heathen\nor a Christian.  While, therefore, Christian Ethics takes its point of\ndeparture from the special revelation of God and the unique disclosure\nof man's possibilities in Christ, it gladly accepts and freely uses the\nresults of moral philosophy in so far as they throw light upon the\nfundamental facts of human nature.  As a system of morals Christianity\nclaims to be inclusive.  It takes cognisance of all the data of\nconsciousness, and assumes as its own, from whatever quarter it may\ncome, all ascertained truth.  The facts of man's natural history, the\nconclusions from philosophy, the manifold lights afforded by previous\nspeculation--all are gathered up, sifted and tried by one\nall-authoritative measure of truth--the mind of Christ.  It completes\nwhat is lacking in other systems in so far as their conclusions are\nbased upon an incomplete survey of facts.  It deals, in short, with\npersonality in its highest ranges of moral power and spiritual\nconsciousness and seeks to interpret life by its greatest possibilities\nand loftiest attainments as they are revealed in Christ.\n\nBut while Christian Ethics is at one with philosophic {24} Ethics in\npostulating a natural capacity for spiritual life, it is differentiated\nfrom all non-Christian systems by its distinctive belief in the\npossibility of the re-creation of character.  Speculative Ethics\nprescribes only what ought ideally to be done or avoided.  It takes no\naccount of the foes of the spiritual life; nor does it consider the\nremedy by which character, once it is perverted or destroyed, can be\nrestored and transformed.  Christian Ethics, on the other hand, is\nconcerned primarily with the question, By what power can a man achieve\nthe right and do the good?  It is not enough to postulate the inherent\ncapacity of man.  Experience of human nature shows that there are\nhostile elements which too often frustrate his natural development.\nHence the practical problem which Christian Ethics has to face is, How\ncan the spiritual ideal be made a reality?  It regards man as standing\nin need of recovery, and it is forced to assume, that which\nphilosophical Ethics does not recognise, a divine power by which\ncharacter can be renewed.  Christianity claims to be 'the power of God\nunto salvation to every one that believeth.'  Christian Ethics\ntherefore is based upon the twofold assumption that the ideal of\nhumanity has actually been revealed in Christ, and that in Him also is\nthe power by which man may realise this ideal.\n\n\nII\n\n_The relation of Christian Ethics to Dogmatics_.--Within the sphere of\ntheology proper the two main constituents of Christian teaching are\nDogmatics and Ethics, or Doctrines and Morals.  Though it is convenient\nto regard these separately they really form a whole, and are but two\naspects of one subject.  It is difficult to define their limits, and to\nsay where Dogmatics ends and Ethics begins.  The distinction is\nsometimes expressed by saying that Dogmatics is a theoretic science,\nwhereas Ethics is practical.  It is true that Ethics stands nearer to\neveryday life and deals with matters of practical conduct, while\nDogmatics is concerned with beliefs and treats of their origin and\nelucidation.  {25} But, on the other hand, Ethics also takes cognisance\nof beliefs as well as actions, and is interested in judgments not less\nthan achievements.  There is a practical side of doctrine and there is\na theoretic side of morals.  Even the most theoretic of sciences,\nMetaphysics, though, as Novalis said, it bakes no bread, is not without\nits direct bearing upon life.  Dogmatic theology when divorced from\npractical interest is in danger of becoming mere pedantry; and ethical\ninquiry, if it has no dogmatic basis, loses scientific value and sinks\ninto a mere enumeration of duties.  Nor is the common statement, that\nDogmatics shows what we should believe and Ethics what we ought to do,\nan adequate one.  Moral precepts are also objects of faith, and what we\nshould believe involves moral requirements and pre-supposes a moral\ncharacter.  Schleiermacher has been charged with ignoring the\ndifference between the two disciplines, but with scant justice.  For,\nwhile he regards the two subjects as but different branches of\nChristian theology, and insists upon their intimate connection, he does\nnot neglect their distinction.  There has been a growing tendency to\naccentuate the difference, and recent writers such as Jacoby, Haering\nand Lemme, not to mention Martensen, Dorner and Wuttke, claim for\nEthics a separate and independent treatment.  The ultimate connection\nbetween Dogmatics and Ethics cannot be ignored without loss to both.\nIt tends only to confusion to speak as some do of 'a creedless\nmorality.'  On the one hand, Ethics saves Dogmatics from evaporating\ninto unsubstantial speculation, and by affording the test of\nworkableness, keeps it upon the solid foundation of fact.  On the other\nhand, Dogmatics supplies to Ethics its formative principles and\nnormative standards, and preserves the moral life from degenerating\ninto the vagaries of fanaticism or the apathy of fatalism.  But while\nboth sciences form complementary sides of theology and stand in\nrelations of mutual service, each deals with the human consciousness in\na different way.  Dogmatics regards the Christian life from the\nstandpoint of divine dependence: Ethics regards it from the {26}\nstandpoint of human determination.  Dogmatics deals with faith in\nrelation to God, as the receptive organ of grace: Ethics views faith\nrather in relation to man, as a human activity or organ of conduct.\nThe one shows us how our adoption into the kingdom of God is the work\nof divine love: the other shows how this knowledge of salvation\nmanifests itself in love to God and man, and must be worked out through\nall the relationships of life.\n\n\nIII\n\nWe may define more particularly the relation of Ethics to Dogmatics by\nenumerating briefly the doctrinal postulates or assumptions with which\nEthics starts.\n\n1.  Ethics assumes the Christian _idea of God_.  God is for Ethics not\nan impersonal force, nor even simply the creator of the universe as\nphilosophy might conceive Him.[1]  Creative power is not of course\ndenied, but it is qualified by what theology calls the 'moral\nattributes of God.'  We do not ignore His omnipotence, but we look\nbeyond it, to 'the love that tops the power, the Christ in God.'[2]  It\nis not necessary here to sketch the Old Testament teaching with regard\nto God.  It is sufficient to state that the New Testament writers,\nwhile not attempting to proclaim abstract doctrines, took over\ngenerally the Hebrew conception of the Deity as a God who was at once\nalmighty, holy and righteous.  The distinctive note which the New\nTestament emphasises is the Personality of God, and personality\nincludes reason, will and love.  The fact that we are His offspring, as\nSt. Paul argues, is the basis of our true conception of God's nature.\nThrough that which is highest in man we are enabled to discern\nsomething of His character.  But it is specially in and through Jesus\nChrist that the distinctive character of the Divine Personality is\ndeclared.  Christ reveals Him as our Father, and everywhere the New\n{27} Testament writers assume that men stand in the closest filial\nrelations to him.  In the fundamental conception of divine Fatherhood\nthere are implicitly contained certain elements of ethical\nsignificance.[3]  Of these may be mentioned:\n\n(1) _The Spiritual Perfection of God_.--The Christian doctrine of God\nincludes not only His personality, but His spiritual perfection.  All\nthat is highest and best in life is attributed to God.  What we regard\nas having supreme moral worth is eternally realised in Him.  It is this\nfact that prescribes man's ideal and makes it binding.  'Be ye perfect\neven as your Father in heaven is perfect,' says Christ.  Because of\nwhat God is, spiritual and moral excellence takes precedence of all\nother aims which can be perceived and pursued by man.  Morality is the\nrevelation of an ideal eternally existing in the divine mind.  'The\nbelief in God,' it has been said, 'is the logical pre-supposition of an\nobjective or absolute morality.'[4]  The moral law, as the norm and\ngoal of our life, obtains its validity and obligation for us not\nbecause it is an arbitrarily-given command, but because it is of the\nvery character of God.\n\n(2) _The Sovereignty of God_.--Not only the spiritual perfection but\nthe moral sovereignty of God is pre-supposed.  He is the supreme\nexcellence on whom all things depend, and in whom they find their\nultimate explanation.  The world is not merely His creation, it is the\nexpression of His mind.  He is not related to the universe as an artist\nis related to his work, but rather as a personal being to his own\nmental and moral activities.[5]  He is immanent in all the phenomena of\nnature and movements of life and thought; and in the order and purpose\nof the world His character and will are manifested.  The fact that the\nmeaning and order of things are not imposed from without, but\nconstitute their inner nature, reveals not only the completeness of His\n{28} sovereignty, but the purpose of it.  The highest end of God, as\nmoral and spiritual, is fulfilled by the constitution and education of\nspiritual beings like Himself, and in laying down the conditions which\nare necessary for their existence and perfecting.  No definition of\ndivine sovereignty can exclude the idea of moral freedom and the\nconsequences bound up with it.  Hence God must not only confer the gift\nof individual liberty, but respect it throughout the whole course of\nHis dealings with man.\n\n(3) _The Supremacy of Love_.--This is the highest and most distinctive\nfeature of the divine personality.  It is the sum of all the others; as\nwell as the special characteristic of the Fatherhood of God as revealed\nby Christ.  'God is love' is the crowning statement of the Gospel and\nthe fullest expression of the divine nature.  The essential of all love\nis self-giving; and the peculiarity of God's love is the communication\nand imparting of Himself to His creatures.  The love of God finds its\nhighest manifestation in the gift and sacrifice of His Son.  He is the\nsupreme personality in history, revealing God in and to the world.  In\nthe light of what Christ is we know what God is, and from His\nrevelation there flows a new and ever-deepening experience of the\ndivine Being.\n\n2.  Christian Ethics presupposes the _Christian doctrine of Sin_.  It\nis not the province of Ethics to discuss minutely the origin of evil or\npropound a theory of sin.  But it must see to it that the view it takes\nis consistent with the truths of revelation and in harmony with the\nfacts of life.  A false or inadequate conception of sin is as\ndetrimental to Ethics as it is to Dogmatics; and upon our doctrine of\nevil depends very largely our interpretation of life in regard to its\ndifficulties and purposes, its trials and triumphs.  In the meantime it\nis enough to remark that considerable vagueness of idea and looseness\nof expression exist concerning this subject.\n\nWhile some regard sin simply as a _defect_ or shortcoming, a missing of\nthe mark, as the Greek word _hamartia_ implies, others treat it as a\n_disease_, or infirmity of the flesh--a malady affecting the physical\nconstitution which may be {29} incurred by heredity or induced by\nenvironment.  In both cases it is regarded as a misfortune, rather than\na fault, or even as a fate from which the notion of guilt is absent.\nWhile there is an element of truth in these representations, they are\ndefective in so far as they do not take sufficient account of the\npersonal and determinative factor in all sinful acts.  The Christian\nview, though not denying that physical weakness and the influence of\nheredity and environment do, in many cases, affect conduct, affirms\nthat there is a personal element always present which these conditions\ndo not explain.  Sin is not merely negative.  It is something positive,\nnot so much an imperfection as a trespass.  It is to be accounted for\nnot as an inherited or inherent malady, but as a self-chosen\nperversity.  It belongs to the spirit rather than to the body, and\nthough it has its seat in the heart and in the emotions, it has to do\nprincipally with the will.  'Every man is tempted when he is drawn away\nby his own lust and enticed.  Then when lust has conceived it bringeth\nforth sin.'[6]  The essence of sin is selfishness.  It is the\ndeliberate choice of self in preference to God--personal and wilful\nrebellion against the known law of righteousness and truth.  There are,\nof course, degrees of wrongdoing and undoubtedly extenuating\ncircumstances which must be taken into account in estimating the\nsignificance and enormity of guilt, but in the last resort Christian\nEthics is compelled to postulate the fact of sin, and to regard it as a\npersonal rebellion against the holy will of God, the deliberate choice\nof self and the wilful perversion of the powers of man into instruments\nof unrighteousness.\n\n3.  A third postulate, which is a corollary of the Christian view of\nGod and of sin, is the _Responsibility of Man_.  Christian Ethics\ntreats every man as accountable for his thoughts and actions, and\ntherefore, as capable of choosing the good as revealed in Christ.\nWhile not denying the sovereignty of God, nor minimising the mystery of\nevil, Christianity firmly maintains the doctrine of human freedom.  An\nEthic would be impossible if, on the one side, grace were absolutely\n{30} irresistible; or, on the other, sin were unalterably necessitated.\nWhatever be the doctrine we formulate on these subjects, Ethics demands\nthat what we call freedom be safeguarded.  An interesting question\nemerges at this point as to the possibility, apart from a knowledge of\nChrist, of choosing the good.  Difficult as this question is, and\nthough it was answered by Augustine and many of the early Fathers in\nthe negative, the modern, and probably the more just view, is that we\ncannot hold mankind responsible unless we allow to all men the larger\nfreedom and judge them according to their light and opportunity.  If\nnon-Christians are fated to do evil, then no guilt can be imputed.\nHistory shows that a love of goodness has sometimes existed, and that\nmany isolated acts of purity and kindness have been done, among people\nwho have known nothing of the historical Christ.  The New Testament\nrecognises degrees of depravity in nations and individuals, and a\nmeasure of noble aspiration and honest endeavour in ordinary human\nnature.  St. Paul plainly assumes some knowledge and performance on the\npart of the heathen, and though he denounces their immorality in\nunsparing terms, he does not affirm that pagan society was so corrupt\nthat it had lost all knowledge of moral good.\n\n\nIV\n\nBefore concluding this chapter some remarks regarding the authority and\nmethod of Christian Ethics may be not inappropriate.\n\n1.  Christian Ethics is not directly concerned with critical questions\nas to the genuineness and authenticity of the New Testament writings.\nIt is sufficient for its purpose that these have been generally\nreceived by the Church, and that they present in the Person of Christ\nthe highest embodiment of the law and spirit of the moral life.  The\nwritings of the New Testament thus become ethically normative in virtue\nof their direct reflection of the mind of Christ and their special\nreceptivity of His spirit.  Their {31} authority, therefore, is\nChrist's own authority, and has a value for us as His word is\nreproduced by them.  It does not detract from the validity of the New\nTestament as the reflection of the spirit of Christ that there are\ndiscernible in it distinct signs of development of doctrine, a manifest\ngrowth in clearness and depth of insight and knowledge of the mind of\nJesus.  Such evidences of advancement are specially noticeable in the\napplication of Christian principles to the practical problems of life,\nsuch as the questions of slavery, marriage, work and property.  St.\nPaul does not disclaim the possibility of development, and he\nassociates himself with those who know in part and wait for fuller\nlight.  In common with all Christians, Paul was doubtless conscious of\na growing enrichment in spiritual knowledge; and his later epistles\nshow that he had reached to clearer prospects of Christ and His\nredemption, and had obtained a fuller grasp of the world-wide\nsignificance of the Gospel than when he first began to preach.\n\nOne cannot forget that the battle of criticism is raging to-day around\nthe inner citadel--the very person and words of Jesus.  If it can be\nshown that the Gospels contain only very imperfect records of the\nhistorical Jesus, and that very few sayings of our Lord can be\ndefinitely pronounced genuine, then, indeed, we might have to give up\nsome of the particular passages upon which we have based our conception\nof truth and duty, but nothing less than a wholesale denial of the\nhistorical existence of Jesus[7] would demand of us a repudiation of\nthe Christian view of life.  The ideals, motives, and sentiments--the\nentire outlook and spirit of life which we associate with Christ--are\nnow a positive possession of the Christian consciousness.  There is a\nChristian view of the world, a Christian _Welt-Anschauung_, so living\nand real in the heart of Christendom that even though we had no more\nreliable basis than the 'Nine Foundation Pillars' which Schmiedel\ncondescends to leave us, we should not be wholly deprived of the\nfundamental principles upon which the Christian life might be reared.\n{32} If to these we add the list of 'doubly attested sayings' collected\nby Burkitt,[8] which even some of the most negative critics have been\nconstrained to allow, we should at least have a starting-point for the\nstudy of the teaching of Jesus.  The most reputable scholars, however,\nof Germany, America and Britain acknowledge that no reasonable doubt\ncan be cast upon the general substance and tone of the Synoptic\nGospels, compiled, as they were, from the ancient Gospel of Mark and\nthe source commonly called 'Q' (_i.e._ the lost common origin of the\nnon-Markian portions of Matthew and Luke).  To these we should be\ndisposed to add the Fourth Gospel, which, though a less primary source,\nundoubtedly records acts and sayings of our Lord attested by one, who\n(whosoever he was) was in close touch with his Master's life, and had\ndrunk deeply of His spirit.\n\nIn the general tone and trend of these writings we find abundant\nmaterials for what may be called the Ethics of Jesus.  It is true, no\nsharp line can be drawn between His religious and moral teaching.  But,\ntaking Ethics in its general sense, as the discussion of the ideals,\nvirtues, duties of man, the relation of man to God and to his\nfellow-men, it will at once be seen that a very large portion of\nChrist's teaching is distinctly ethical.  The facts of His own earthly\nexistence, all His great miracles, His parables, and above all, the\nSermon on the Mount, have an immediate bearing upon human conduct.\nThey all deal with character, and are chiefly illustrations and\nenforcements of the divine ideal of life and of the value of man as a\nchild of God which He came to reveal.  In the example of Jesus Himself\nwe have the best possible illustration of the translation of principles\ninto life.  And in so far as we find our highest good embodied in Him,\nHe becomes for us, as J. S. Mill acknowledged, a kind of personified\nconscience.  No abstract statement of ethical principles can possibly\ninfluence life so powerfully as the personal incarnation of these\nprinciples; and if the greatest means to the true life is personal\nassociation with the high and noble, then it need not seem strange {33}\nthat love and admiration for the person of Christ have as a matter of\nfact proved the mightiest of historical motives to noble living.\n\nHowever imperfectly we may know the person of Jesus, and however\nfragmentary may be the record of His teaching, one great truth looms\nout of the darkness--the peerlessness of His character and the\nincomparableness of His ideal of life.  He comes to us with a message\nof Good, new to man, based on the great conviction of the Fatherhood of\nGod.  The all-dominating faith that a genuine seeking love is at the\nheart of the universe makes Jesus certain that the laws of the world\nare the laws of a loving God--laws of life which must be studied,\nwelcomed, and heartily obeyed.\n\n2.  The Christian ideal, though given in Christ, has to be examined,\nanalysed, and applied by the very same faculties as are employed in\ndealing with speculative problems.  All science must be furnished with\nfacts, and its task generally is to shape its materials to definite\nends.  The scientist does not invent.  He does not create.  He simply\n_discovers_ what is already there: he only moulds into form what is\ngiven.  In like manner, the Christian moralist deals with the\nrevelation of life which has been granted to him partly in the human\nconsciousness, and partly through the sacred scriptures.  The\nscriptures, however, do not offer a systematic presentation of the life\nof Christ, or a formal directory of moral conduct.  The data are\nsupplied, but these data require to be interpreted and unified so as to\nform a system of Ethics.  The authority to which Christian Ethics\nappeals is not an external oracle which imposes its dictates in a\nmechanical way.  It is an authority embodied in intelligible forms, and\nappealing to the rational faculties of man.  Christian Ethics, though\ndeduced from scripture, is not a cut and dry code of rules prescribed\nby God which man must blindly obey.  It has to be thought out, and\nintelligently applied to all the circumstances of life.  According to\nthe Protestant view, at least, Ethics is not a stereotyped compendium\nof precepts which {34} the Church supplies to its members to save them\nfrom thinking.  Slavish imitation is wholly foreign to the genius of\nthe Gospel.  Christ Himself appeals everywhere to the rational nature\nof man, and His words are life and spirit only as they are intelligibly\napprehended and become by inner conviction the principles of action.\n\nAuthoritative, then, as the scriptures are, and containing as they do\nthe revelation of an unique historical fact, they do not present a\nclosed or final system of truth.  Christ has yet many things to say\nunto us, and the Holy Spirit is continually adding new facts to human\nexperience, and disclosing richer and fuller manifestations of God\nthrough history and providence and the personal consciousness of man.\nNo progress in thought or life can indeed be made which is inconsistent\nwith, or foreign to, the fundamental facts which centre in Christ: and\nwe may be justly suspicious of all advancement in doctrine or morals\nwhich does not flow from the initial truths of the Master's life and\nteaching.  But, just as progress has been made, both in the increase of\nmaterials of knowledge and in regard to the clearer insight and\nappreciation of the meaning of Christian truth, since the apostles'\nage, so we may hope that, as the ages go on, we shall acquire a still\nfuller conception of the kingdom of God and a richer apprehension of\nthe divine will.  The task and method of Christian Ethics will be,\nconsequently, the intelligent interpretation and the gradual\napplication to human life and society, in all their relationships, of\nthe mind of Christ under the constant illumination and guidance of the\nDivine Spirit.\n\n\n\n[1] Cf. Dorner, _System der Christl. Ethik_, p. 48.  See also Newman\nSmyth, _Christian Ethics_, p. 44.\n\n[2] Cf. Mackintosh, _Christian Ethics_, p. 11.\n\n[3] Cf. Lidgett, _The Christian Religion_, pp. 106, 485 ff., where the\nidea of God's nature is admirably developed.\n\n[4] Rashdall, _The Theory of Good and Evil_, vol. ii. p. 212.\n\n[5] Lidgett, _idem_.  But see Bosanquet, _Principle of Indiv. and\nValue_, p. 380 ff.\n\n[6] James i. 13, 14.\n\n[7] As, for example, that of Drew's _Christus Myth_.\n\n[8] Cf. _Gospel History and its Transmission_.\n\n\n\n\n{35}\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nETHICAL THOUGHT BEFORE CHRIST\n\nApart from the writings of the New Testament, which are the primary\nsource of Christian Ethics, a comprehensive view of our subject would\ninclude some account of the ethical conceptions of Greece, Rome and\nIsrael, which were at least contributory to the Christian idea of the\nmoral life.  Whatever view we take of its origin, Christianity did not\ncome into the world like the goddess Athene, without preparation, but\nwas the product of many factors.  The moral problems of to-day cannot\nbe rightly appreciated except in the light of certain concepts which\ncome to us from ancient thought; and Greco-Roman philosophy as well as\nHebrew religion have contributed not a little to the form and trend of\nmodern ethical inquiry.\n\nAll we can attempt is the briefest outline, first, of the successive\nepochs of Greek and Roman Ethics; and second, of the leading moral\nideas of the Hebrews as indicating the preparatory stages in the\nevolution of thought which finds its completion in the Ethics of\nChristianity.\n\n\nI\n\nBefore the golden age of Greek philosophy there was no Ethics in the\nstrictest sense.  Philosophy proper occupied itself primarily with\nontological questions--questions as to the origin and constitution of\nthe material world.  It was only when mythology and religion had lost\ntheir hold upon the cultured, and the traditions of the poets had come\nto be doubted, that inquiries as to the meaning of life and conduct\narose.\n\n{36}\n\nThe Sophists may be regarded as the pioneers of ethical science.  This\nbody of professional teachers, who appeared about the fifth century in\nGreece, drew attention to the vagueness of common opinion and began to\nteach the art of conduct.  Of these Protagoras is the most famous, and\nto him is attributed the saying, 'Man is the measure of all things.'\nAs applied to conduct, this dictum is commonly interpreted as meaning\nthat good is entirely subjective, relative to the individual.  Viewed\nin this light the saying is one-sided and sceptical, subversive of all\nobjective morality.  But the dictum may be regarded as expressing an\nimportant truth, that the good is personal and must ultimately be the\ngood for man as man, therefore for all men.\n\n1.  It was _Socrates_, however, who, as it was said, first called\nphilosophy from heaven to the sphere of this earth, and diverted men's\nminds from the consideration of natural things to the affairs of human\nlife.  He was indeed the first moral philosopher, inasmuch as that,\nwhile the Sophists merely talked at large about justice and virtue, he\nasked what these terms really meant.  Living in an age when the old\nguides of life--law and custom--were losing their hold upon men, he was\ncompelled to find a substitute for them by reflection upon the meaning\nand object of existence.  For him the source of evil is want of\nthought, and his aim is to awaken men to the realisation of what they\nare, and what they must seek if they would make the best of their\nlives.  He is the prophet of clear self-consciousness.  'Know thyself'\nis his motto, and he maintains that all virtue must be founded on such\nknowledge.  A life without reflection upon the meaning of existence is\nunworthy of a man.[1]  Hence the famous Socratic dictum, 'Virtue is\nknowledge.'  Both negatively and positively Socrates held this\nprinciple to be true.  For, on the one hand, he who is not conscious of\nthe good and does not know in what it consists, cannot possibly pursue\nit.  And, on the other hand, if a man is once alive to his real good,\nhow can he do otherwise than pursue it?  No one therefore does {37}\nwrong willingly.  Let a man know what is right, and he will do it.\nKnowledge of virtue is not, however, distinct from self-interest.\nEvery one naturally seeks the good simply because he sees that the good\nis identical with his ultimate happiness.  The wise man is the happy\nman.  Hence to know oneself is the secret of well-being.  Let each be\nmaster of himself, knowing what he seeks, and seeking what he\nknows--that, for Socrates, is the first principle of Ethics, the\ncondition of all moral life.  This view is obviously one-sided and\nessentially individualistic, excluding all those forms of morality\nwhich are pursued unconsciously, and are due more to the influence of\nintuitive perception and social habit than to clear and definite\nknowledge.  The merit of Socrates, however, lies in his demand for\nethical reflection, and his insistence upon man not only acting\nrightly, but acting from the right motive.\n\n2.  While Socrates was the first to direct attention to the nature of\nvirtue, it received from _Plato_ a more systematic treatment.  Platonic\nphilosophy may be described as an extension to the universe of the\nprinciples which Socrates applied to the life of the individual.  Plato\nattempts to define the end of man by his place in the cosmos; and by\nbringing Ethics into connection with Metaphysics he asks What is the\nidea of man as a part of universal reality?  Two main influences\ncombined to produce his conception of virtue.  First, in opposition to\nthe Heraclitean doctrine of perpetual change, he contended for\nsomething real and permanent.  Second, in antagonism to the Sophistic\ntheory of the conventional origin of the moral law, he maintained that\nman's chief end was the good which was fixed in the eternal nature of\nthings, and did not consist in the pursuit of transient pleasures.\nHence, in two respects, Plato goes beyond Socrates.  He puts opinion,\nwhich is his name for ordinary consciousness, between ignorance and\nknowledge, ascribing to it a certain measure of truth, and making it\nthe starting-point for reflection.  And further, he transforms the\nSocratic idea of morality, rejecting the notion that its principle is\nto be found in a mere calculation of pleasures, {38} and maintaining\nthat particular goods must be estimated by the good of life as a whole.\nPlato's philosophy rests upon his doctrine of ideas, which, as the\ntypes of permanent reality, represent the eternal nature of things; and\nthe problem of life is to rise from opinion to truth, from appearance\nto reality, and attain to the ideal principle of unity.  The highest\ngood Plato identifies with God, and man's end is ultimately to be found\nin the knowledge of, and communion with, the eternal.\n\nThe human soul he conceived to be a mixture of two elements.  In virtue\nof its higher spiritual nature it participates in the world of ideas,\nthe life of God: and in virtue of its lower or animal impulses, in the\ncorporeal world of decay.  These two dissimilar parts are connected by\nan intermediate element called by Plato _thymos_ or courage, implying\nthe emotions or affections of the heart.  Hence a threefold\nconstitution of the soul is conceived--the rational powers, the\nemotional desires, and the animal passions.  If we ask who is the good\nman? Plato answers, it is the man in whom these three elements are\nharmonised.  On the basis of this psychology Plato classifies and\ndetermines the virtues--adopting the four cardinal virtues of Greek\ntradition as the fundamental types of morality.  Wisdom is the quality,\nor condition of all virtue and the crown of the moral life: courage is\nthe virtue of the emotional part of man; temperance or moderation, the\nvirtue of the lower appetites: while justice is the unity and the\nprinciple of the others.  Virtue is thus no longer identified with\nknowledge simply.  Another source of vice besides ignorance is assumed,\nviz., the disorder and conflict of the soul; and the well-being of man\nlies in the attainment of a well-ordered and harmonious life.  As\nhealth is the harmony of the body, so virtue is the harmony of the\nsoul--a condition of perfection in which every desire is kept in\ncontrol and every function performs its part with a view to the good of\nthe whole.  Morality, however, does not belong merely to the\nindividual, but has its perfect realisation in the state in which the\nthree elements of the soul have their {39} counterpart in the threefold\nrank of society.  Man is indeed but a type of a larger cosmos, and it\nis not as an individual but as a citizen that he finds his station and\nduties, and is capable of realising his true life.\n\nThus we see how Plato is led to correct the shortcomings of\nSocrates--his abrupt distinction between ignorance and knowledge, his\nvagueness as to the meaning of the good, and his tendency to emphasise\nthe subjective side of virtue and withdraw the individual from the\ncommunity of which he is essentially a part.  But in developing his\ntheory of ideas Plato has represented the true life of man as\nconsisting in the knowledge of, and indeed in absorption in, God, a\nstate to which man can only attain by the suppression of his natural\nimpulses and withdrawal from earthly life: and though there is not\nwanting in Plato's later teaching the higher conception of the\ntransformation of the animal passions, he is not wholly successful in\novercoming the dualism between impulse and reason which besets some of\nthe earlier dialogues.\n\nIt is a striking proof of the vitality of Plato that his teaching has\naffected every form of idealism and has helped to shape the history of\nreligious thought in all ages.  Not only many of the early Fathers,\nsuch as Clement and Origen, but the Neo-Platonists of Alexandria, the\nCambridge Platonists of the seventeenth century, and also the German\ntheologians, Baur and Schleiermacher, have recognised numerous\ncoincidences between Christianity and Platonism: as Bishop Westcott has\nsaid, 'Plato points to St. John.'[2]  His influence may be detected in\nsome of the greatest Christian poetry of our own country, especially in\nthat of Wordsworth and Tennyson.  For Plato believes, in common with\nthe greatest of every age, in 'that inborn passion for perfection,'\nthat innate though often unconscious yearning after the true, the\nbeautiful, the good,\n\n  'Those obstinate questionings\n  Of sense and outward things,'\n\nwhich are the heritage of human nature.\n\n{40}\n\n3.  The Ethics of _Aristotle_ does not essentially differ from that of\nPlato.  He is the first to treat of morals formally as a science,\nwhich, however, in his hands becomes a division of politics.  Man, says\nAristotle, is really a social animal.  Even more decisively than Plato,\ntherefore, he treats man as a part of society.  While in Plato there is\nthe foreshadowing of the truth that the goal of moral endeavour lies in\ngodlikeness, with Aristotle the goal is confined to this life and is\nconceived simply as the earthly well-being of the moral subject.\n'Death,' he declares, 'is the greatest of all evils, for it is the\nend.'  Aristotle begins his great work on Ethics with the discussion of\nthe chief good, which he declares to be happiness or well-being.  But\nhappiness does not consist in sensual pleasure, nor even in the pursuit\nof honour, but in an 'activity of the soul in accordance with\nreason.'[3]  There are required for this life of right thinking and\nright doing not only suitable environment but proper instruction.\nVirtue is not virtuous until it is a habit, and the only way to be\nvirtuous is to practise virtue.  To be virtuous a man's conduct must be\na law for him, the regular expression of his will.  Hence the virtues\nare habits of deliberate choice, and not natural endowments.  Following\nPlato, Aristotle sees that there is in man a number of impulses\nstruggling for the mastery of the soul, hence he is led to assume that\nthe natural instincts need guidance and control.  Moderation is\ntherefore the one chief virtue; and moral excellence consists in an\nactivity which at every point seeks to strike a 'mean' between two\nopposite excesses.  Virtue in general, then, may be defined as the\nobservation of the due mean in action.  Aristotle also follows Plato in\nassigning the ideal good to contemplation, and in exalting the life of\nreason and speculation above all others.  In thus idealising the\ncontemplative life he was but reflecting the spirit of his race.  This\napotheosis of knowledge infected all Greek thought, and found\nexaggerated expression in the religious absorption of Neo-Platonism.\n\n{41}\n\nWithout dwelling further upon the ethical philosophy of Aristotle, a\ndefect which at once strikes a modern in regard to his scheme of\nvirtues is that benevolence is not recognised, except obscurely as a\nform of magnanimity; and that, in general, the gentler virtues, so\nprominent in Christianity, have little place in the list.  The virtues\nare chiefly aristocratic.  Favourable conditions are needed for their\ncultivation.  They are not possible for a slave, and hardly for those\nengaged in 'mercenary occupations.'[4]  Further, it may be remarked\nthat habit of itself does not make a man virtuous.  Morality cannot\nconsist in a mere succession of customary acts.  'One good custom would\ncorrupt the world,' and habit is frequently a hindrance rather than a\nhelp to the moral life.  But the main defect of Aristotle's treatment\nof virtue is that he tends to regard the passions as irrational, and he\ndoes not see that passions if wholly evil could have no 'mean.'  Reason\npervades all the lower appetites of man: and the instincts and desires,\ninstead of being treated as elements which must be suppressed, ought to\nbe regarded rather as powers to be transformed and employed as vehicles\nof the moral life.  At the same time there are not wanting passages in\nAristotle as well as in Plato which, instead of emphasising the\navoidance of excess, regard virtue as consisting in complementary\nelements--the addition of one virtuous characteristic to another--'that\nbalance of contrasted qualities which meets us at every turn in the\ndistinguished personalities of the Hellenic race, and which is too\noften thought of in a merely negative way, as the avoidance of excess\nrather than as the highest outcome of an intense and many-sided\nvitality.'[5]\n\n4.  After Aristotle philosophy rapidly declined, and Ethics degenerated\ninto popular moralising which manifested itself chiefly in a growing\ndepreciation of good as the end {42} of life.  The conflicting elements\nof reason and impulse, which neither Plato nor Aristotle succeeded in\nharmonising, gave rise ultimately to two opposite interpretations of\nthe moral life.  The _Stoics_ selected the rational nature as the true\nguide to an ethical system, but they gave to it a supremacy so rigid as\nto threaten the extinction of the affections.  The _Epicureans_, on the\nother hand, fastening upon the emotions as the measure of truth,\nemphasised the happiness of the individual as the chief good--a\ndoctrine which led some of the followers of Epicurus to justify even\nsensual enjoyment.  It is not necessary to dwell upon the details of\nEpicureanism, for though its description of the 'wise man,' as that of\na person who prudently steered a middle course between passion and\nasceticism, was one which exercised considerable influence upon the\nmorals of the age, it is the doctrines of Stoicism which more\nespecially have come into contact with Christianity.  Without\ndiscussing the Stoic conception of the world as interpenetrated and\ncontrolled by an inherent spirit, and the consequent view of life as\nproceeding from God and being in all its parts equally divine, we may\nnote that the Stoics, under the influence of Platonism, regarded\nself-realisation as the true end of man.  This idea they expressed in\nthe formula, 'Life according to nature.'  The wise man is he who seeks\nto live in all the circumstances of life in agreement with his rational\nnature.  The law of nature is to avoid what is hurtful and strive for\nwhat is appropriate.  Pleasure, though not the immediate object of man,\narises as an accompaniment of a well-ordered life.  Pleasure and pain\nare, however, really accidents, to be met by the wise man with\nindifference.  He alone is free who acknowledges the absolute supremacy\nof reason and makes himself independent of earthly desires.  This life\nof freedom is open to all: since all men are members of one body.  The\nslave may be as free as the consul, and in every station of life each\nmay make the world serve him by living in harmony with it.\n\nThere is a certain sublimity in the ethics of Stoicism which has always\nappealed to noble minds.  'It inspired,' {43} says Mr. Lecky, 'nearly\nall the great characters of the early Roman Empire, and nerved every\nattempt to maintain the dignity and freedom of the human soul.'[6]  But\nwe cannot close our eyes to its defects.  Divine providence, though\nfrequently dwelt upon, signified little more for the Stoic than destiny\nor fate.  Harmony with nature was simply a sense of proud\nself-sufficiency.  Stoicism is the glorification of reason, even to the\nextent of suppressing all emotion.  Sin is unreason, and salvation lies\nin an external control of the passions--in indifference and apathy\nbegotten of the subordination of desire to reason.\n\nThe chief merit of Stoicism is that in an age of moral degeneracy it\ninsisted upon the necessity of integrity in all the conditions of life.\nIn its preference for the joys of the inner life and its scorn of the\ndelights of sense; in its emphasis upon individual responsibility and\nduty; above all, in its advocacy of a common humanity and its belief in\nthe relation of each human soul to God, Roman Stoicism, as revealed in\nthe writings of a Seneca, an Epictetus, and a Marcus Aurelius, not only\nshowed how high Paganism at its best could reach, but proved in a\nmeasure a preparation for Christianity, with whose practical truths it\nhad much in common.\n\nThe affinities between Stoicism and Paulinism have been frequently\npointed out, and the similarity in language and thought can scarcely be\naccounted for by coincidence.  There are, however, elements in Stoicism\nwhich St. Paul would never have dreamt of assimilating.  The material\nconception of the world, the self-conscious pride, the absence of all\nsense of sin, the temper of apathy, and unnatural suppression of\nfeelings were ideas which could not but rouse the apostle's strongest\nantagonism.  But, on the other hand, there were characteristics of a\nnobler order in Stoic morality which, we may well believe, Paul found\nready to his hand and did not hesitate to incorporate in his teaching.\nOf these we may mention, the Immanence of God, the idea of Wisdom, the\nconception of freedom as {44} the prerogative of the individual, and\nthe notion of brotherhood as the goal of humanity.[7]\n\nThe Roman Stoics, notwithstanding their theoretic interest in moral\nquestions, lived in an ideal world, and hardly attempted to bring their\nviews into connection with the facts of life.  Their philosophy was a\nrefuge from the evil around them rather than an effort to remove it.\nThey seek to overcome the world by being indifferent to it.  In\nNeo-Platonism--the last of the Greek schools of philosophy--this\ntendency to withdraw from life and its problems becomes still more\nmarked.  Absorption in God is the goal of existence and the essence of\nreligion.  'Man is left alone with God without any world to mediate\nbetween them, and in the ecstatic vision of the Absolute the light of\nreason is extinguished.'[8]\n\nMeagre as our sketch of ancient thought has necessarily been, it is\nperhaps enough to show that the debt of religion to Greek and Roman\nEthics is incalculable.  It lifted man above vague wonder, and gave him\ncourage to define his relation to existence.  It caused him to ask\nquestions of experience, and awakened him to the value of life and the\nmeaning of freedom, duty, and good.  Finally, it brought into view\nthose contrasted aims of life and society which find their solution in\nthe Christian ideal.[9]\n\n\nII\n\nChristianity stands in the closest relation with _Hebrew religion_.\nMuch as the philosophy of Greece and Rome have contributed to\nChristendom, there is no such intimate relation between them as that\nwhich connects Christian Ethics with the morality of Israel.  Christ\nHimself, and still more the Apostle Paul, assumed as a substratum of\n{45} their teaching the revelation which had been granted to the Jews.\nThe moral and religious doctrines comprehended under the designation of\nthe 'law' served, as the apostle said, as a _paidagogos_ or usher whose\nfunction it was to lead them to the school of Christ.\n\nAt the outset we are impressed by the fact that the Ethics of Judaeism\nwas inseparable from its religion.  Moral obligations were conceived as\ndivine commands, and the moral law as a revelation of the divine will.\nAt first Jehovah was simply a tribal deity, but gradually this\nrestricted view gave place to the wider conception of God as the\nsovereign of all men.  The divine commandment is the criterion and\nmeasure of man's obedience.  Evil, while it has its source and head in\na hostile but subsidiary power, consists in violation of Jehovah's will.\n\nThere are three main channels of Hebrew revelation, commonly known as\nthe _Law_, the _Prophecy_, and _Poetry_ of Old Testament.\n\n\n1.  LAW\n\n(1) _The Mosaic Legislation_ centering in the Decalogue[10] is the\nfirst stage of Old Testament Ethic.  The ten commandments, whether\nderived from Mosaic enactment or representing a later summary of duty,\nhold a supreme and formative place in the teaching of the Old\nTestament.  All, not even excepting the fourth, are purely moral\nrequirements.  They are, however, largely negative; the fifth\ncommandment only rising to positive duty.  They are also merely\nexternal, regulative of outward conduct.  The sixth and seventh protect\nthe rights of persons, while the eighth guards outward property.\nThough these laws may be shown to have their roots in the moral\nconsciousness of mankind, they were at first restricted by Israel in\ntheir scope and practice to its own tribes.\n\n(2) _The Civil laws_ present a second factor in the ethical education\nof Israel.  The 'Book of the Covenant'[11] reveals a certain\nadvancement in political legislation.  Still the {46} hard and legal\nenactments of retaliation--'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a\ntooth'--disclose a barbarous conception of right.  Alongside of these\nprimitive laws must be set those of a more humane nature--laws with\nregard to release, the permission of gleaning, the privileges of the\nyear of jubilee.\n\n(3) _The Ceremonial laws_ embody a third element in the moral life of\nIsrael.  These had to do chiefly with commands and prohibitions\nrelative to personal conduct--'Meats and drinks and diverse washings';\nand with sacrifices and forms of ritual worship.[12]\n\nWith regard to the moral value of the commandments two opposite errors\nare to be avoided.  We must not refuse to recognise in the Old\nTestament the record of a true, if elementary and imperfect, revelation\nof God.  But also we must beware of exalting the commandments of the\nOld Dispensation to the level of those of the New; and thus\nmisunderstanding the nature and relation of both.\n\nThe Christian faith is in a sense the development of Judaeism, though\nit is infinitely more.  The commandments of Moses, in so far as they\nhave their roots in the constitution of man, have not been superseded,\nbut taken up and spiritualised by the Ethic of the Gospel.\n\n\n2.  PROPHECY\n\nThe dominant factor of Old Testament Ethics lay in the influence\nexerted by the prophets.  They, and not the priests, are the great\nmoralists of Israel.  The prophets were speakers for God, the\ninterpreters of His will.  They were the moral guides of the people,\nthe champions of integrity in political life, not less than witnesses\nfor individual purity.[13]\n\nWe may sum up the ethical significance of the Hebrew prophets in three\nfeatures.\n\n(1) They were preachers of _personal righteousness_.  In {47} times of\nfalsehood and hypocrisy they were witnesses for integrity and truth,\nupholding the personal virtues of justice, sincerity, and mercy against\nthe idolatry and formalism of the priesthood.  'What doth the Lord\nrequire of thee,' said Micah, 'but to do justly, to love mercy, and to\nwalk humbly with thy God.'[14]  In the same strain Isaiah exclaimed,\n'Bring no more vain oblations, but wash you and make you clean.'[15]\nAnd so also Habakkuk has affirmed in words which became the keynote of\nPaul's theology and the watchword of the Reformation--'The just shall\nlive by faith.'[16]\n\n(2) They were the advocates of the _rights of man_, of equity and\njustice between man and man.  They denounce the tyranny of kings, and\nthe luxury of the nobles.  They protest against the oppression of the\npoor and befriend the toilers of the cities.  They proclaim the worth\nof man as man.  They reveal Jehovah as the God of the common people,\nand seek to mitigate the burdens which lie upon the enslaved and\ndown-trodden.\n\n(3) They were the apostles of _Hope_.  Not only did they seek to lift\ntheir fellow-men above their present calamities, but they proclaimed a\nmessage of peace and triumph which was to be evolved out of trouble.  A\ngreat promise gradually loomed on the horizon, and hope began to centre\nin an anointed Deliverer.  The Hebrew prophets were not probably\nconscious of the full significance of their own predictions.  Like all\ntrue poets, they uttered greater things than they knew.  The prophet\nwho most clearly outlines this truth is the second Isaiah.  As he looks\ndown the ages he sees that healing is to be brought about through\nsuffering, the suffering of a Sinless one.  Upon this mysterious figure\nwho is to rise up in the latter days is to be laid the burden of\nhumanity.  No other, not even St. Paul himself, has grasped so clearly\nthe great secret of atonement or given so touching a picture of the\npower of vicarious suffering as this unknown prophet of Israel.\n\n\n{48}\n\n3.  THE POETICAL BOOKS\n\nPassing from the prophets to the poets of Israel--and especially to the\nbook of Psalms--the devotional manual of the people, reflecting the\nmoral and religious life of the nation at the various stages of its\ndevelopment--we find the same exalted character of God as a God of\nRighteousness, hating evil and jealous for devotion, the same profound\nsense of sin and the same high vocation of man.  The Hebrew nation was\nessentially a poetic people,[17] and their literature is full of\npoetry.  But poetry is not systematic.  It is not safe, therefore, to\ndeduce particular tenets of faith or moral principles from passages\nwhich glow with intensity of feeling.  But if a nation's character is\nrevealed in its songs, the deep spirituality and high moral tone of\nIsrael are clearly reflected in that body of religious poetry which\nextends over a period of a thousand years, from David to the Maccabean\nage.  It is at once national and personal, and is a wonderful record of\nthe human heart in its various moods and yearnings.  Underlying all\ntrue poetry there is a philosophy of life.  God, for the Hebrew\npsalmist, is the one pervading presence.  He is not a mere\nimpersonation of the powers of nature, but a personal Being, righteous\nand merciful, with whom man stands in the closest relations.  Holy and\nawful, indeed, hating iniquity and exacting punishment upon the wicked,\nHe is also tender and pitiful--a Father of the oppressed, who bears\ntheir burdens, forgives their iniquities, and crowns them with tender\nmercy.[18]  All nature speaks to the Hebrew of God.  He is no far-off\ncreator, but immanent in all His works.[19]  He presides over mankind,\nand provides for the manifold wants of his creatures.  It is this\nthought which gives unity to the nation, and binds the tribes into a\ncommon brotherhood.  God is their personal friend.  In war and peace,\nin worship and labour, at home and in exile, it is to Jehovah they look\n{49} for strength and light and joy.  He is their Shepherd and\nRedeemer, under whose wings they trust.  Corresponding to this sublime\nfaith, the virtues of obedience and fidelity are dwelt upon, while the\nideal of personal righteousness and purity is constantly held forth.\nIt is no doubt largely temporal blessings which the psalmists\nemphasise, and the rewards of integrity are chiefly those of material\nand earthly prosperity.  The hope of the future life is nowhere clearly\nexpressed in the Old Testament, and while in the Psalter here and there\na dim yearning for a future with God breaks forth, hardly any of these\npoems illumine the destiny of man beyond the grave.  The hope of Israel\nwas limited mostly to this earth.  The land beyond the shadows does not\ncome within their purview.  Like a child, the psalmist is content to\nknow that his divine Father is near him here and now.  When exactly the\nlarger hope emerged we cannot say.  But gradually, with the breaking up\nof the national life and under the pressure of suffering, a clearer\nvision dawned.  With the limitations named, it is a sublime outlook\nupon life and a high-toned morality which the Psalter discloses.\nPoetry, indeed, idealises, and no doubt the Israelites did not always\nlive up to their aspirations; but men who could give utterance to a\nfaith so clear, to a penitence so deep, and to longings so lofty and\nspiritual as these Psalms contain are not the least among the heralds\nof the kingdom of Christ.\n\nWe cannot enlarge upon the ethical ideas of the other writings of the\nOld Testament, the books of Wisdom, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Job.\nTheir teaching, while not particularly lofty, is generally healthy and\npractical, consisting of homely commonplaces and shrewd observations\nupon life and conduct.  The motives appealed to are not always the\nhighest, and frequently have regard only to earthly prosperity and\nworldly policy.  It must not, however, be overlooked that moral\npractice is usually allied with the fear of God, and the right choice\nof wisdom is represented as the dictate of piety not less than the\nsanction of prudence.  The writers of the Wisdom literature are the\n{50} humanists of their age.  As distinguished from the idealism of the\nprophets, they are realists who look at life in a somewhat utilitarian\nway.  With the prophets, however, they are at one in regarding the\ninferiority of ceremonial to obedience and sincerity.  God is the ruler\nof the world, and man's task is to live in obedience to Him.  What God\nrequires is correct outward behaviour, self-restraint, and\nconsideration of others.\n\nIn estimating the Ethics of Israel the fact that it was a preparatory\nstage in the revelation of God's will must not be overlooked.  We are\nnot surprised, therefore, that, judged by the absolute standard of the\nNew Testament, the morality of the Old Testament must be pronounced\nimperfect.  In two respects at least, in intent and extent, it is\ndeficient.\n\n(1) It is lacking in _Depth_.  There is a tendency to dwell upon the\nsufficiency of external acts rather than the necessity of inward\ndisposition.  At the same time, in the Psalter and prophecy inward\npurity is recognised.[20]  Further, the character of Jehovah is\nsometimes presented in a repellent aspect; as in the threatenings of\nthe second commandment; the treatment of the children of Achan and the\nSons of Korah; the seeming injustice of God, implied in the complaint\nof Moses, and the protests of Abraham and David.  But again there are\nnot wanting more kindly features of the Divine Being; and the\nFatherhood of God finds frequent expression.  Though the penal code is\nsevere, a gentler spirit shines through many of its provisions, and\nprotection is afforded to the wage-earner, the dependent, and the poor;\nwhile the care of slaves, foreigners, and even lower animals is not\noverlooked.[21]  Again, it has been noticed that the motives to which\nthe Old Testament appeals are often mercenary.  Material prosperity\nplays an important part as an inducement to well-doing.  The good which\nthe pious patriarch or royal potentate contemplates is something which\nis calculated to enrich himself or advance his people.  But here we\nmust not forget that {51} God's revelation is progressive, and His\ndealing with man educative.  There is naturally a certain accommodation\nof the divine law to the various stages of the moral apprehension of\nthe Jewish people.  Gradually the nation is being carried forward by\nthe promise of material benefits to the deeper and more inward\nappreciation of spiritual blessings.\n\n(2) It is lacking in _Scope_.  In regard to universality the Hebrew\nideal, it must be acknowledged, is deficient.  God is usually\nrepresented as the God of Israel alone, and not as the God of all men,\nand the obligations of veracity, honesty, and mercy are confined within\nthe limits of the nation.  It is true that a prominent commandment\ngiven to Israel and endorsed by our Lord runs thus: 'Thou shalt love\nthy neighbour as thyself.'[22]  But the extent of the obligation seems\nto be restricted by the context: 'Thou shalt not avenge nor bear any\ngrudge against the children of thy people.'  It is contended that the\nword translated 'neighbour' bears a wider import than the English term,\nand is really applicable to any person.  The larger idea is expressed\nin vv. 33, 34, where the word 'stranger' or 'foreigner' is substituted\nfor neighbour.  And there are passages in which the stranger is\nregarded as the special client of God, and is enjoined to look to Him\nfor protection.\n\nThe Jews were not in practice, however, faithful to the humanitarianism\nof their law, and, in keeping with other nations, showed a tendency to\nrestrict divine favours within the limits of their own land, and to\nmaintain throughout their history an attitude of aloofness and\nrepellent isolation which even amounted to intolerance towards other\nraces.  In early days, however, the obligation of hospitality was\nregarded as sacred.[23]  Nor must we forget that, whatever may have\nbeen the Jewish practice, the promise enshrined in their revelation\ninvolves the unity of mankind; while several of the prophecies and\nPsalms look forward to a world-wide blessing.[24]  In Isaiah we even\nread, 'God of the whole earth shall He be called.'[25]\n\n{52}\n\nThe stream of preparation for Christianity thus flowed steadily through\nthree channels, the Greek, the Roman, and the Jew.  Each contributed\nsomething to the fullness of the time.\n\nThe problem of Greek civilisation was the problem of _freedom_, the\nrealisation of self-dependence and self-determination.  In the pursuit\nof these ends Greece garnered conclusions which are the undying\npossessions of the world.  If to the graces of self-abasement, meekness\nand charity it remained a stranger, it gave a new worth to the\nindividual, and showed that without the virtues of wisdom, courage,\nsteadfastness and justice man could not attain to moral character.\n\nThe Roman's gift was unbending devotion to _duty_.  With a genius for\nrule he forced men into one polity; and by levelling material barriers\nhe enabled the nations to commune, and made a highway for the message\nof freedom and brotherhood.  But, intoxicated with material glory, he\nbecame blind to spiritual good, and in his universal toleration he\nemptied all faiths of their content, driving the masses to\nsuperstition, and the few who yearned for a higher life to withdrawal\nfrom the world.\n\nThe Jewish contribution was _righteousness_.  Not specially\ndistinguished by intellectual powers, nor gifted in political\nenterprise, his endowment was spiritual insight, and by his dispersion\nthroughout the world he made others the sharers of his inheritance.\nBut his tendency was to keep his privilege to himself, or so to load it\nwith legal restrictions as to bar its acceptance for strangers; and in\nhis pride of isolation he failed to recognise his Deliverer when He\ncame.\n\nThus, negatively and positively, by failure and by partial attainment,\nthe world was prepared for Him who was the desire of all nations.  In\nChrist were gathered up the wisdom of the Greek, the courage of the\nRoman, the righteousness of the Jew; and He who came not to destroy but\nto fulfil at once interpreted and satisfied the longings of the ages.\n\n\n\n[1] _Apologia_, pp. 38-9.\n\n[2] Cf. Adam, _Vitality of Platonism_, p. 3.\n\n[3] _Nic. Ethics_, bk. i. chap. 5.\n\n[4] _histharnikai ergasiai_, Arist., _Politics_, iii.  'There is\nnothing common between a master and his slave,' _Nic. Ethics_, viii.\n\n[5] Butcher, _Harvard Lectures on Greek Subjects_, quoted by Barbour,\n_Philos. Study of Christian Ethics_, p. 11.  Cf. also Burnet, _Ethics\nof Aristotle_, p. 73.  'The \"mean\" is really the true nature of the\nsoul when fully developed.'\n\n[6] _Hist. of Europ. Morals_, vol. i. chap. ii.\n\n[7] See Author's _Ethics of St. Paul_ for further discussion of\nrelation of Paul to Stoics.\n\n[8] Cf. E. Caird, _Evolution of Theology in the Greek Philosophers_,\nvol. i. p. 48.\n\n[9] Cf. Caird, idem.  Pfleiderer, _Vorbereitung des Christentums in der\nGriech. Philos._; Wenley, _Preparation for Christianity_.\n\n[10] Exod. xx.; Deut. v.\n\n[11] Ex. xx.-xxiii.\n\n[12] Amos v. 25; Hos. vi. 6; Isa. i. 11-13.\n\n[13] Cf. Wallace, _Lectures and Essays on Natural Theol. and Ethics_,\np. 183.\n\n[14] Micah vi. 8.\n\n[15] Isa. i. 13-17; Micah vi. 7.\n\n[16] Hab. ii. 4; cf. Rom. i. 17; Gal. iii. 2.\n\n[17] Though Houston Chamberlain, in his recent work, _The Foundations\nof the Nineteenth Century_, maintains that they were 'a most prosaic,\nmaterialistic people, without any real sense of poetry.'\n\n[18] Ps. 51.\n\n[19] Ps. 19.\n\n[20] Ps. 51; Isa. 1.\n\n[21] Deut. xxiv. 14, 15; Jer. xxii. 13-17; Matt. iii 5; Deut. xxv. 4.\n\n[22] Lev. xix. 18.\n\n[23] Gen. xviii. xix.\n\n[24] Isa. lxi.; Ps. xxii. 27; xlviii. 2-10; lxxxvii.\n\n[25] Isa. liv. 5.\n\n\n\n\n{53}\n\nSECTION B\n\nPERSONALITY\n\n{55}\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE ESTIMATE OF MAN\n\nHaving thus far laid the foundations of our study by a discussion of its\npresuppositions and sources, we are now prepared to consider man as the\npersonal subject of the new life.  The spirit of God which takes hold of\nman and renews his life must not be conceived as a foreign power breaking\nthe continuity of consciousness.  The natural is the basis of the\nsupernatural.  It is not a new personality which is created; it is the\nold that is transformed and completed.  If there was not already implicit\nin man that which predisposed him for the higher life, a consciousness to\nwhich the spirit could appeal, then Christianity would be simply a\nmechanical or magical influence without ethical significance and having\nno relation to the past history of the individual.  But that is not the\nteaching of our Lord or of His apostles.  We are bound, therefore, to\nassume a certain substratum of powers, physical, mental and moral, as\nconstituting the raw material of which the new personality is formed.\nThe spirit of God does not quench the natural faculties of man, but works\nthrough and upon them, raising them to a higher value.[1]\n\nI.  But before proceeding to a consideration of these elements of human\nconsciousness to which Christianity appeals, we must glance at two\nopposite theories of human nature, either of which, if the complete view\nof man, would be inimical to Christianity.[2]\n\n{56}\n\n1.  The first view is that man _by nature is morally good_.  His natural\nimpulses are from birth wholly virtuous, and require only to be left to\ntheir own operation to issue in a life of perfection.  Those who favour\nthis contention claim the support of Scripture.  Not only does the whole\ntone of the Bible imply the inherent goodness of primitive man, but many\ntexts both in the Old and New Testaments suggest that God made man\nupright.[3]  Among the Greeks, and especially the Stoics, this view\nprevailed.  All nature was regarded as the creation of perfect reason,\nand the primitive state as one of uncorrupted innocence.  Pelagius\nespoused this doctrine, and it continued to influence dogmatic theology\nnot only in the form of Semi-Pelagianism, but even as modifying the\nseverer tenets of Augustine.  The theory received fresh importance during\nthe revolutionary movement of the eighteenth century, and found a strong\nexponent in Rousseau.  'Let us sweep away all conventions and\ninstitutions of man's making and get back to the simplicity of a\nprimitive age.'  The man of nature is guileless, and his natural\ninstincts would preserve him in uncorrupted purity if they were not\nperverted by the artificial usages of society.  So profoundly did this\ntheory dominate the thoughts of men that its influence may be detected\nnot only in the political fanaticism which found expression in the French\nRevolution, but also in the practical views of the Protestant Church\nacting as a deterrent to missionary effort.[4]  This view of human\nnature, though not perhaps formally stated, finds expression in much of\nthe literature of the present day.  Professor James cites Theodore Parker\nand other leaders of the liberal movement in New England of last century\nas representatives of the tendency.[5]  These writers do not wholly\nignore moral effect, but they make light of sin, and regard it not as\nsomething positive, but merely as a stage in the development of man.\n\n{57}\n\n2.  The other theory of human nature goes to the opposite extreme.  Man\nby nature is _utterly depraved_, and his natural instincts are wholly\nbad.  Those who take this view also appeal to Scripture: 'Man is shapen\nin iniquity and conceived in sin.'  Many passages in the New Testament,\nand especially in the writings of St. Paul, seem to emphasise the utter\ndegradation of man.  It was not, however, until the time of Augustine\nthat this idea of innate depravity was formulated into a doctrine.  The\nAugustinean dogma has coloured all later theology.  In the Roman Catholic\nChurch, even in such a writer as Pascal, and in Protestantism, under the\ninfluence of Calvin, the complete corruption of man's nature has been\ndepicted in the blackest hues.\n\nThese theories of human nature represent aspects of truth, and are false\nonly in their isolation.\n\nThe doctrine that man is innocent by nature is not in agreement with\nhistory.  Nowhere is the noble savage to be found.  The primitive man\nexhibits the same tendencies as his more civilised neighbour, and his\nanimal passions are indulged without control of reason or consideration\nfor others.  Indeed, Hobbes's view of early society as a state of war and\nrapacity is much truer to fact than Rousseau's.  The noble savage is\nsimply a fiction of the imagination, an abstraction obtained by\nwithdrawing him from all social environment.  But even could we conceive\nof a human being kept from infancy in isolation, he would not fulfil the\ntrue idea of virtue, but would simply develop into a negative creature, a\nmutilated being bereft of all that constitutes our notion of humanity.\nSuch experiences as are possible only in society--all forms of goodness\nas suggested by such words as 'love,' 'sympathy,' 'service'--would never\nemerge at all.  The native instincts of man are simply potencies or\ncapacities for morality; they must have a life of opportunity for their\nevolution and exercise.  The abstract self prior to and apart from all\nobjective experience is an illusion.  It is only in relation to a world\nof moral beings that the moral life becomes possible for man.  The\ninnocence which the advocates of this theory contend for is {58}\nsomething not unlike the non-rational existence of the animal.  It is\ntrue that the brute is not immoral, but neither is it moral.  The whole\nsignificance of the passions as they exist in man lies in the fact that\nthey are not purely animal, but, since they belong to man, are always\nimpregnated with reason.  It is reason that gives to them their moral\nworth, and it is because man must always put his self into every desire\nor impulse that it becomes the instrument either of virtue or of vice.[6]\n\nBut if the theory of primitive purity is untenable, not less so is that\nof innate depravity.  Here, also, its advocates are not consistent with\nthemselves.  Even the systems of theology derived from Augustine do not\ncontend that man was created with an evil propensity.  His sin was the\nresult of an historical catastrophe.  In his paradisiacal condition man\nis conceived as possessing a nobility and innocence of nature far beyond\nthat even which Rousseau depicted.  Milton, in spite of his Calvinistic\npuritanism, has painted a picture of man's ideal innocence which for\nidyllic charm is unequalled in literature.[7]  Nor does historical\ninquiry bear out the theory of the utter depravity of man.  The latest\nanthropological research into the condition of primitive man suggests\nrather that even the lowest forms of savage life are not without some dim\nconsciousness of a higher power and some latent capacity for good.[8]\nFinally, these writers are not more successful when they claim the\nsupport of the Bible.  Not only are there many examples of virtue in\npatriarchal times, but, as we have seen, there are not a few texts which\nimply the natural goodness of man.  Our Lord repeatedly assumes the\naffinity with goodness of those who had not hitherto come into contact\nwith the Gospel, as in the case of Jairus, the rich young ruler, and the\nSyrophenician woman.  It has been affirmed by Wernle[9] that the Apostle\nPaul in the interests of salvation grossly {59} exaggerates the condition\nof the natural man.  'He violently extinguished every other light in the\nworld so that Jesus might shine in it alone.'  But this surely is a\nmisstatement.  It is true that no more scathing denunciation of sinful\nhuman nature has ever been presented than the account of heathen\nimmorality to be found in the first chapter of Romans.  Yet the apostle\ndoes not actually affirm, nor even imply, that pagan society was so\nutterly corrupt that it had lost all knowledge of moral good.  Though so\nbad as to be beyond hope of recovery by natural effort, it was not so bad\nas to have quenched in utter darkness the light which lighteth every man.\n\n3.  Christianity, while acknowledging the partial truth of both of these\ntheories, reconciles them.  If, on the one hand, man were innately good\nand could of himself attain to righteousness, there would be no need of a\ngospel of renewal.  But history and experience alike show that that is\nnot the case.  If, on the other hand, man were wholly bad, had no\nsusceptibility for virtue and truth, then there would be nothing in him,\nas we have seen, which could respond to the Christian appeal.[10]\nChristianity alone offers an answer to the question in which Pascal\npresents the great antithesis of human nature: 'If man was not made for\nGod, how is it that he can be happy only in God?  And if he is made for\nGod, how is he so opposite to God?'[11]  However, then, we may account\nfor the presence of evil in human nature, a true view of Christianity\ninvolves the conception of a latent spiritual element in man, a capacity\nfor goodness to which his whole being points.  Matter itself may be said\nnot merely to exist for spirit, but to have within it already the potency\nof the higher forms of life; and just as nature is making towards\nhumanity, and in humanity at last finds itself; as\n\n  'Striving to be man, the worm\n  Mounts through all the spires of form,'[13]\n\n{60} so man, even in his most primitive state, has within him the promise\nof higher things.  No theory of his origin can interfere with the\nassumption that he belongs to a moral Sphere, and is capable of a life\nwhich is shaping itself to spiritual ends.  Whatever be man's past\nhistory and evolution, he has from the beginning been made in God's\nimage, and bears the divine impress in all the lineaments of body and\nsoul.  His degradation cannot wholly obliterate his inherent nobility,\nand indeed his actual corruption bears witness to his possible holiness.\nGranting the hypothesis of evolution, matter even in its crudest\nbeginnings contains potentially all the rich variety of the natural and\nspiritual life.  The reality of a growing thing lies in its highest form\nof being.  In the light of the last we explain the first.  If the\nuniverse is, as science pronounces, an organic totality which is ever\nconverting its promise into actuality, then 'the ultimate interpretation\neven of the lowest existence of the world, cannot be given except on\nprinciples which are adequate to explain the highest.'[13]  Christian\nmorality is therefore nothing else than the morality prepared from all\neternity, and is but the highest realisation of that which man even at\nhis lowest has ever been, though unconsciously, striving after.  All that\nis best and highest in man, all that he is capable of yet becoming, has\nreally existed within him from the very first, just as the flower and\nleaf and fruit are contained implicitly in the seedling.  This is the\nPauline view of human nature.  Jesus Christ, according to the apostle, is\nthe End and Consummation of the whole creation.  Everywhere in all men\nthere is a capacity for Christ.  Whatever be his origin, man comes upon\nthe stage of being bearing within him a great and far-reaching destiny.\nThere is in him, as Browning says, 'a tendency to God.'  He is not simply\nwhat he is now, but all that he is yet to be.\n\nII.  Assuming, then, the inherent spirituality of man, we may now proceed\nto examine his moral consciousness with a view to seeing how its various\nconstituents form what we have called the substratum of the Christian\nlife.\n\n{61}\n\n1.  We must guard against seeming to adopt the old and discredited\npsychology which divides man into a number of separate and independent\nfaculties.  Man is not made like a machine, of a number of adjusted\nparts.  _He is a unity_, a living organism, in which every part has\nsomething of all the others; and all together, animated by one spirit,\nconstitute a Living whole which we call personality.  While the Bible is\nrich in terms denoting the different constituents of man, neither the Old\nTestament nor the New regards human nature as a plurality of powers.  A\nbind of unity or hierarchy of the natural faculties is assumed, and amid\nall the difference of function and variety of operation it is undeniable\nthat the New Testament writers generally, and particularly St. Paul,\npresuppose a unity of consciousness--a single ego, or Soul.  It is\nunnecessary to discuss the question, much debated by Biblical\npsychologists, as to whether the apostle recognises a threefold or a\ntwofold division of man.[14] Our view is that he recognised only a\ntwofold division, body and soul, which, however, he always regarded as\nconstituting a unity, the body itself being psychical or interpenetrated\nwith spirit, and the spirit always acting upon and working through the\nphysical powers.\n\nMan is a unique phenomenon in the world.  Even on his physical side he is\nnot a piece of dead matter, but is instinct through and through with\nspirit.  And on his psychical side he is not an unsubstantial wraith, but\na being inconceivable apart from outward embodiment.  Perhaps the most\ngeneral term which we may adopt is _psyche_ or Soul--the living self or\nvital and animating principle which is at once the seat of all bodily\nsensation and the source of the higher cognitive faculties.\n\n2.  The fact of ethical interest from which we must proceed is that man,\nin virtue of his spiritual nature, is _akin to God_, and participates in\nthe three great elements of the divine Personality--thought, love and\nwill.[15]  Personality has been called 'the culminating fact of the {62}\nuniverse.'  And it is the task of man to realise his true personality--to\nfulfil the law of his highest self.  In this work he has to harmonise and\nbring to the unity of his personal life, by means of one dominating\nforce, the various elements of his nature--his sensuous, emotional, and\nrational powers.  By the constitution of his being he belongs to a larger\nworld, and when he is true to himself he is ever reaching out towards it.\nFrom the very beginning of life, and even in the lowest phases of his\nnature he has within him the potency of the divine.  He carries the\ninfinite in his soul, and by reason of his very existence shares the life\nof God.  The value of his soul in this sense is repeatedly emphasised in\nscripture.  In our Lord's teaching it is perhaps the most distinctive\nnote.  The soul, or self-conscious spiritual ego, is spoken of as capable\nof being 'acquired' or 'lost.'[16]  It is acquired or possessed when a\nman seeks to regain the image in which he was created.  It is lost when\nhe refuses to respond to those spiritual influences by which Christ\nbesets him, and by means of which the soul is moulded into the likeness\nof God.\n\n3.  A full presentation of this subject would involve a reference even to\nthe physical powers which form an integral part of man and witness to his\neternal destiny.\n\n(1) The very body is to be redeemed and sanctified, and made an\ninstrument of the new life in Christ.  The extremes of asceticism and\nself-indulgence, both of which found advocates in Greek philosophy and\neven in the early Church, have no countenance in scripture.  Evil does\nnot reside in the flesh, as the Greeks held, but in the will which uses\nthe flesh for its base ends.  Not mutilation but transformation, not\nsuppression but consecration is the Christian ideal.  The natural is the\nbasis of the spiritual.  Man is the Temple of God, every part of which is\nsacred.  Christ claims to be King of the body as of every other domain of\nlife.  The secret of spiritual progress does not consist in the\nunflinching destruction of the flesh, but in its firm but kindly\ndiscipline for loyal service.  It is not, therefore, by {63} leaving the\nbody behind but by taking it up into our higher self that we become\nspiritual.  As Browning says,\n\n  'Let us cry all good things\n  Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more now\n  Than flesh helps soul.'\n\n\nWithout dwelling further upon the physical elements of man, there are\nthree constituents or functions of personality prominent in the New\nTestament which claim our consideration, reason, conscience and will.  It\nis just because man possesses, or _is_ mind, conscience and will, that he\nis capable of responding to the life which Christ offers, and of sharing\nin the divine character which he reveals.\n\n(2) The term _nous_, or reason, is of frequent occurrence in the New\nTestament.  Christianity highly honours the intellectual powers of man\nand accords to the mind an important role in apprehending and entering\ninto the thoughts and purposes of God.  'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God\nwith all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy mind,' says\nJesus.  Many are disposed to think that the exercise of faith, the\nimmediate organ of spiritual apprehension, is checked by the interference\nof reason.  But so far from faith and reason being opposed, not only are\nthey necessary to each other, but in all real faith there is an element\nof reason.  In all religious feeling, as in morality, art, and other\nspheres of human activity, there is the underlying element of reason\nwhich is the characteristic of all the activities of a self-conscious\nintelligence.  To endeavour to elicit that element, to infuse into the\nspontaneous and unsifted conceptions of religious experience the\nobjective clearness, necessity and organic unity of thought--is the\nlegitimate aim of science, in religion as in other spheres.  It would be\nstrange if in the highest of all provinces of human experience\nintelligence must renounce her claim.[17]  The Ritschlian value-judgment\ntheory in its disparagement of philosophy is practically a dethronement\nof reason.  And the protest of Pragmatism and the voluntarists {64}\ngenerally against what they term 'Intellectualism'[18] and their distrust\nof the logical faculty, are virtually an avowal of despair and a resort\nto agnosticism, if not to scepticism.  If we are to renounce the quest\nfor objective truth, and accept 'those ideas only which we can\nassimilate, validate, corroborate,'[19] those ideas in short which are\n'practically useful in guiding us to desirable issues,' then it would\nseem we are committed to a world of subjective caprice and confusion and\nmust give up the belief in a rational view of the universe.\n\n(3) In spite of the wonderful suggestiveness of M. Bergson's philosophy,\nwe are unable to accept the distinction which that writer draws between\nintuition and intelligence, in which he seems to imply that intuition is\nthe higher of the two activities.  Intelligence, according to this\nwriter, is at home exclusively in spatial considerations, in solids, in\ngeometry, but it is to be repelled as a foreign element when it comes to\ndeal with life.  Bergson would exclude rational thought and intelligence\nfrom life, creation, and initiative.  The clearest evidence of intuition\nis in the works of great artists.  'What is implied is that in artistic\ncreation, in the work of genius and imagination, we have pure novelty\nissuing from no premeditated or rational idea, but simply pure\nirrationality and unaccountableness.'[20]  The work of art cannot be\npredicated; it is beyond reason, as life is beyond logic and law.[21]\nBut so far from finding life unintelligible, it would be nearer the truth\nto say that man's reason can, strictly speaking, understand nothing\nelse.[22]  'Instinct finds,' says Bergson, 'but does not search.  Reason\nsearches but cannot find.'[23]  'But,' adds Professor Dewey, 'what we\nfind is meaningless save as measured by searching, and so instincts and\npassions must be elevated into reason.'[24]  In the lower creatures\ninstinct does the {65} work of reason--sufficiently for the simple\nconditions in which the animal lives.  And in the earlier stages of human\nlife instinct plays an important part.  But when man, both as an\nindividual and as humanity, advances to a more complex life, instinct is\nunequal to the new task confronting him.  We cannot be content to be\nguided by instinct.  Reason asserts itself and seeks to permeate all our\nexperiences, and give unity and purpose to all our thoughts and acts.\n\nThe recent disparagement of intellectualism is probably a reaction\nagainst the extreme absolutism of German idealism which, beginning with\nKant, found fullest expression in Fichte, Schelling and Hegel.  But the\ntrue way to meet exclusive rationalism is not to discredit the function\nof mind, but to give to it a larger domain of experience.  We do not\nexalt faith by emptying it of all intellectual content and reducing it to\nmere subjective feeling; nor do we explain genius by ascribing its acts\nto blind, unthinking impulse.  'The real is the rational,' says Hegel.\nTruth, in other words, presupposes a rational universe which we, as\nrational beings, must assume in all our thought and effort.  To set up\nfaith against reason, or intuition against intelligence is to set the\nmind against itself.  We cannot set up an order of facts, as Professor\nJames would have us do, outside the intellectual realm; for what does not\nfall within our experience can have for us no meaning, and what for us\nhas no meaning cannot be an object of faith.  An ineradicable belief in\nthe rationality of the world is the ultimate basis of all art, morality\nand religion.  To rest in mere intuition or emotion and not to seek\nobjective truth would be for man to renounce his true prerogative and to\nopen the door for all kinds of superstition and caprice.\n\nIII.  In the truest sense it may be claimed that this is the teaching of\nChristianity.  When Christ says that we are to love God with our minds He\nseems to imply that there is such a thing as intelligent affection.  The\ndistinctive feature of our Lord's claim is that God is not satisfied when\nHis creatures render a merely implicit obedience; He {66} desires also\nthe enthusiastic use of their intellect, intent on knowing everything\nthat it is possible for men to know about His character and ways.  And is\nthere not something sublime in this demand of God that the noblest part\nof man should be consecrated to Him?  God reveals Himself in Christ to\nour highest; and He would have us respond to His manifestations with our\nhighest.  Nor is this the attitude of Christ only.  The Apostle Paul also\nhonours the mind, and gives to it the supreme place as the organ of\napprehending and appropriating divine truth.  Mr. Lecky brings the\nserious charge against Christianity that it habitually disregards the\nvirtues of the intellect.  If there is any truth in this statement it\nrefers, not to the genius of the Gospel itself, nor to the earlier\nexponents of it, but rather to the Church in those centuries which\nfollowed the conversion of Constantine.  No impartial reader of St.\nPaul's Epistles can aver that the apostle made a virtue of ignorance and\ncredulity.  These documents, which are the earliest exposition of the\nmind of Christ, impress us rather with the intellectual boldness of their\nattempt to grapple with the greatest problems of life.  Paul was\nessentially a thinker; and, as Sabatier says, is to be ranked with Plato\nand Aristotle, Augustine and Kant, as one of the mightiest intellectual\nforces of the world.  But not content with being a thinker himself, he\nsought to make his converts thinkers too, and he does not hesitate to\nmake the utmost demand upon their reasoning faculties.  He assumes a\nnatural capacity in man for apprehending the truth, and appeals to the\nmind rather than to the emotions.  The Gospel is styled by him 'the word\nof truth,' and he bids men 'prove all things.'  Worship is not a\nmeaningless ebullition of feeling or a superstitious ritual, but a form\nof self-expression which is to be enlightened and guided by thought.  'I\nwill pray with the understanding and sing with the understanding.'\n\nIt is indeed a strong and virile Christianity which Paul and the other\napostles proclaim.  It is no magic spell they seek to exert.  They are\nconvinced that there is that in {67} the mind of man which is ready to\nrespond to a thoughtful Gospel.  If men will only give their unprejudiced\nminds to God's Word, it is able to make them 'wise unto salvation.'  It\nwould lead us beyond the scope of this chapter to consider the peculiar\nPauline significance of faith.  It is enough to say that while he does\nnot identify it with intellectual assent, as little does he confine it to\nmere subjective assurance.  It is the primary act of the human spirit\nwhen brought into contact with divine truth, and it lies at the root of a\nnew ethical power, and of a deeper knowledge of God.  If the apostle\nappears to speak disparagingly of wisdom it is the wisdom of pride, of\n'knowledge that puffeth up.'  He warns Timothy against 'science falsely\nso called.'  On the whole St. Paul exalts the intellect and bids men\nattain to the full exercise of their mental powers.  'Be not children in\nunderstanding: but in understanding be men.'[25]\n\nIf, as we have seen, the body be an integral part of man, and has its\nplace and function in the Christian life, not less, but even more, has\nthe mind a special ethical importance.  It is to the intelligence that\nChristianity appeals, and it is with the rational faculties that moral\ntruth is apprehended and applied to life.  Reason in its broadest sense\nis the most distinctive feature of man, and by means of it he exerts his\nmightiest influence upon the world.  Mental and moral growth are closely\nconnected, and personal character is largely moulded by thought.  'As a\nman thinketh in his heart so is he.'  Not only at the beginning of the\nnew life, but in all its after stages the mind is an important factor,\nand its consecration and cultivation are laid upon us as an obligation by\nHim in whose image we have been made, and whom to know and serve is our\nhighest end.\n\n\n\n[1] See Author's _Ethics of St. Paul_.\n\n[2] Cf. Murray, _Sandbank of Christian Ethics_.  See also Hegel, _Phil.\nder Religion_, vol. ii. p. 210 ff., where the antithesis is finely worked\nout.\n\n[3] Gen. i. 26; Eccles. vii. 29; Col. iii. 10; James iii. 9.\n\n[4] See Hugh Miller's _Essays_, quoted by Murray, _op. cit._, p. 137.\n\n[5] Cf. W. James, _Varieties of Religious Experience_, pp. 81-86.\n\n[6] Cf. Goethe's _Faust_.  See also Nietzsche, _Goetzendaemmerung_ for\ntrenchant criticism of Rousseau.\n\n[7] Murray, _idem_.\n\n[8] Max Mueller, Fraser, _Golden Bough_, and others.\n\n[9] Anfaenge des Christentums.\n\n[10] Cf. Ottley, _Christian Ideas and Ideals_, p. 52.  'Christianity does\njustice both to man's inherent instinct that he has been made for God,\nand to his sense of unworthiness and incapacity.'\n\n[11] _Pensees_, part ii. art. 1.\n\n[12] Emerson.\n\n[13] Ed. Caird, _Critical Philosophy of Kant_, p. 35.\n\n[14] See Author's _Ethics of St. Paul_.\n\n[15] Ottley, _idem_, p. 55.\n\n[16] Luke xxi. 19.\n\n[17] Cf. John Caird, _Introd. to the Philosophy of Religion_.\n\n[18] Cf. Wm. James's _Pragmatism_ and _A Pluralistic World_.\n\n[19] _Idem_, p. 201.\n\n[20] Cf. Bosanquet, _The Principles of Individuality and Value_.\n\n[21] Bergson, _Evol. Creat._, p. 174 f.\n\n[22] Cf. E. Caird, _Kant_, vol. ii. pp. 530 and 535.\n\n[23] _Evol. Creat._, p. 159.\n\n[24] _Hib. Jour._, July 1911.\n\n[25] Some sentences in the above are borrowed from the writer's _Ethics\nof St. Paul_.\n\n\n\n\n{68}\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE WITNESS OF CONSCIENCE\n\nPassing from the physical and mental constituents of man, we turn to\nthe more distinctly moral elements; and in this chapter we shall\nconsider that aspect of the human consciousness to which mankind has\ngiven the name of 'conscience.'\n\nNo subject has presented greater difficulties to the moralist, and\nthere are few which require more careful elucidation.  From the\nearliest period of reflection the question how we came to have moral\nideas has been a disputed one.  At first it was thought that there\nexisted in man a distinct innate faculty or moral sense which was\ncapable of deciding categorically man's duty without reference to\nhistory or condition.  But in modern times the theory of evolution has\ndiscredited the inviolable character of conscience, and sought rather\nto determine its nature and significance in the light of its origin and\ndevelopment.  Only the barest outline of the subject can be attempted\nhere, since our object is simply to show that however we may account\nfor its presence, there is in man, as we know him, some power or\nfunction which bears witness to divine truth and fits him to respond to\nthe revelation of Christ.  It will be most convenient to consider the\nsubject under three heads: I. the history of the Conception; II. the\nnature and origin of Conscience; and III. its present validity.\n\nI.  _History of the Conception_.--'The name conscience,' says a writer\non the subject, 'appears somewhat late in {69} the history of the\nworld: that for which it stands is as old as mankind.'[1]\n\n1.  Without pushing our inquiries back into the legendary lore of\nsavage life, in which we find evidence of the idea in the social\ninstitutions and religious enactments of primitive races, it is among\nthe Greeks that the word, if not the idea of conscience, first meets\nus.  Perhaps the earliest trace of the notion is to be found in the\nmythological conception of the Furies, whose business it was to avenge\ncrime--a conception which might be regarded as the reaction of man's\nown nature against the violation of better instincts, if not as the\nreflection or embodiment of what is popularly called conscience.  It\ncan scarcely be doubted that the Erinnyes of Aeschylus were deities of\nremorse, and possess psychological significance as symbols of the\nprimitive action of conscience.[2]  Though Sophocles is less of a\ntheologian than Aeschylus, and problems of Ethics count less than the\nhuman interest of his story, the law of Nemesis does find in him\ndramatic expression, and the noble declaration put into the mouth of\nAntigone concerning the unwritten laws of God that 'know no change and\nare not of to-day nor yesterday, but must be obeyed in preference to\nthe temporary commandments of men,'[3] is a protest on behalf of\nconscience against human oppression.  And even in Euripides, regarded\nas an impious scoffer by some scholars,[4] there are not wanting,\nespecially in the example of Alcestis, evidence of belief in that\ndivine justice and moral order of which the virtues of self-devotion\nand sacrifice in the soul of man are the witness.\n\nSocrates was among the first teachers of antiquity who led the way to\nthat self-knowledge which is of the essence of conscience, and in the\n'Daemon,' or inner voice, which he claimed to possess, some writers\nhave detected the trace {70} of the intuitive monitor of man.  Plato's\ndiscussion of the question, 'What is the highest good?' involves the\ncapacity of moral judgment, and his conception of reason regulating\ndesire suggests a power in the mind whose function it is to point to\nthe highest good and to subordinate to it all the other impulses of\nman.  In the ethics of Aristotle there is a reference to a faculty in\nman or 'rule within,' which, he says, the beasts lack.\n\nBut it is among the Stoics that the word first appears; and it is to\nthe Roman moralist, Seneca, that we are indebted for the earlier\ndefinite perception of an abiding consciousness bearing witness\nconcerning a man's own conduct.  The writings of Epictetus, Aurelius,\nand Seneca approach in moral sublimity and searching self-analysis the\nNew Testament Scriptures.  It was probably to the Stoics that St. Paul\nwas indebted for the word _syneidesis_ to which he has given so\ndistinctive a meaning that it has coloured and determined the whole\nlater history of the moral consciousness.\n\n2.  But if the word as used in the New Testament comes from Greek\nsources the idea itself was long prevalent in the Jewish conception of\nlife, which, even more than the Greek, was constitutive of, and\npreparatory to, the Christian view.  The word does not, indeed, occur\nin the Old Testament, but the question of God to Adam, 'Where art\nthou?' the story of Cain and the curse he was to suffer for the murder\nof his brother; the history of Joseph's dealing with his brethren; the\naccount of David's sin and conviction, are by implication appeals to\nconscience.  Indeed, the whole history of Israel, from the time when\nthe promise was given to Abraham and the law through Moses until the\ndenunciations of wrong-doing and the predictions of doom of the later\nprophets, is one long education of the moral sense.  It is the problem\nof conscience that imparts its chief interest to the book of Job; and\none reason why the Psalms in all ages have been so highly prized is\nbecause they are the cries of a wounded conscience, and the confessions\nof a convicted and contrite heart.\n\n{71}\n\n3. If we turn to the New Testament we find, as we might expect, a much\nclearer testimony to the reality of the conscience.  The word came into\nthe hands of the New Testament writers ready-made, but they gave to it\na richer meaning, so that it is to them we must go if we would\nunderstand the nature and the supremacy of the conscience.  The term\noccurs thirty-one times in the New Testament, but it does not appear\nonce in the Gospels.  It is, indeed, principally a Pauline expression,\nand to the apostle of the Gentiles more than to any other writer is due\nthe clear conception and elucidation of the term.  It would be a\nmistake, however, to assume that the doctrine itself depends entirely\nupon the use of the word.  Our Lord never, indeed, employs the term,\nbut surely no teacher ever sounded the depths of the human heart as He\ndid.  It was His mission to reveal men to themselves, to convict them\nof sin, and show the need of that life of righteousness and purity\nwhich He came to give.  'Why even of yourselves,' He said, 'judge ye\nnot what is right?'  Christ, indeed, might be called the conscience of\nman.  To awaken, renew and enlighten the moral sense of individuals, to\nmake them know what they were and what they were capable of becoming\nwas the work of the Son of Man, and in contact with Him every one was\nmorally unveiled.\n\nThe word occurs twice in Acts, five times in Hebrews, three times in\nthe Epistles of Peter, and more than twenty times in the Pauline\nEpistles.  St. Paul's doctrine of the conscience is contained in Romans\nii. 14, 15, where he speaks of the Gentiles being 'a law unto\nthemselves,' inasmuch as they possess a 'law written in their hearts,'\n'their conscience bearing witness, therewith accusing or excusing\nthem.'  The idea underlying the passage is the responsibility of all\nmen for their actions, their condemnation in sin, and their acceptance\nin righteousness.  This applies to Gentiles as well as Jews, and it\napplies to them because, though they have not the explicit revelation\nof the law, they have a revelation of the good in their hearts.  The\npassage therefore teaches two things: (1) That man has received a {72}\nrevelation of good sufficient at all stages of his history to make him\nmorally responsible; and (2) That man possesses a moral faculty which\nindeed is not a separate power, but the whole moral consciousness or\npersonality in virtue of which he recognises and approves of the good\nwhich, either as the law written in his heart or as the law\ncommunicated in the Decalogue, has been revealed to him, and by whose\nauthority he judges himself.\n\nII.  _Nature, and Origin of Conscience_.--While experience seems to\npoint to the existence of something in man witnessing to the right,\nthere is great diversity of view as to the nature of this moral\nelement.  The word 'Conscience' stands for a concept whose meaning is\nfar from well defined, and the lack of definiteness has left its trace\nupon ethical theories.  While some moralists assign conscience to the\nrational or intellectual side of man, and make it wholly a faculty of\njudgment; others attribute it to feeling or impulse, and make it a\nsense of pleasure or pain; others again associate it more closely with\nthe will, and regard its function to be legislative or imperative.\nThese differences of opinion reveal the complexity of the nature of\nconscience.  The fact is, that it belongs to all these departments--the\nintellectual, emotional, and volitional--and ought to be regarded not\nas a single faculty distinct from the particular decisions, motives,\nand acts of man, not as an activity foreign to the ego, but as the\nexpression of the whole personality.  The question of the origin of\nconscience, though closely connected with its nature, is for ethics\nonly of secondary importance.  It is desirable, however, to indicate\nthe two main theories which have been held regarding its genesis.\nWhile there are several varieties, they may be divided broadly into\ntwo--Intuitionalism and Evolutionalism.\n\n1.  _Nativism_, of which Intuitionalism is the most common form,\nregards the conscience as a separate natural endowment, coeval with the\ncreation of man.  Every individual, it is maintained, has been endowed\nby nature with a distinct faculty or organ by which he can immediately\nand clearly {73} pronounce upon the rightness or wrongness of his own\nactions.  In its most pronounced form this theory maintains that man\nhas not merely a general consciousness of moral distinctions, but\npossesses from the very first, apart from all experience and education,\na definite and clear knowledge of the particular vices which ought to\nbe avoided and the particular virtues which ought to be practised.\nThis theory is usually connected with a form of theism which maintains\nthat the conscience is particularly a divine gift, and is, indeed,\nGod's special witness or oracle in the heart of man.\n\nThough there would seem to be an element of truth in intuitionalism,\nsince man, to be man at all, must be conceived as made for God and\nhaving that in him which points to the end or ideal of his being, still\nin its most extreme form it would not be difficult to show that this\ntheory is untenable.  It is objectionable, because it involves two\nassumptions, of which the one conflicts with experience, and the other\nwith the psychological nature of man.\n\n(1) Experience gives us no warrant for supposing that duty is always\nthe same, and that conscience is therefore exempt from change.  History\nshows rather that moral convictions only gradually emerge, and that the\nlaws and customs of one age are often repudiated by the next.  What may\nseem right to one man is no longer so to his descendant.  History\nrecords deeds committed in one generation in the name of conscience\nwhich in the same name a later generation has condemned with horror.\nMoreover, the possibility of a conflict between duties proves that\nunconditional truth exists at no stage of moral development.  There is\nno law so sacred that it may not in special cases have to yield to the\nsacredness of a higher law.  When duties conflict, our choice cannot be\ndetermined by any _a priori_ principle residing in ourselves.  It must\nbe governed by that wider conception of the moral life which is to be\ngained through one's previous development, and on the basis of a ripe\nmoral experience.[5]  (2) Nor is this theory consistent with {74} the\nknown nature of man.  We know of no separate and independent organ\ncalled conscience.  Man must not be divided against himself.  Reason\nand feeling enter into all acts of will, since these are not processes\ndifferent in kind, but elements of voluntary activity itself and\ninseparable from it.  It is impossible for a man to be determined in\nhis actions or judgments by a mere external formula of duty, a\n'categorical imperative,' as Kant calls it, apart from motives.\nMoreover, all endowments may be regarded as divine gifts, and it is a\nprecarious position to claim for one faculty a spiritually divine or\nsupernatural origin which is denied to others.  Man is related to God\nin his whole nature.  The view which regards the law of duty as\nsomething foreign to man, stern and unchangeable in its decrees, and in\nnowise dependent upon the gradual development and growing content of\nthe moral life is not consistent either with history or psychology.\n\n2.  _Evolutionalism_, which since the time of Darwin has been applied\nby Spencer and others to account for the growth of our moral ideas,\nholds that conscience is the result of a process of development, but\ndoes not limit the process to the life of the individual.  It extends\nto the experience of the race.  While admitting the existence of\nconscience as a moral faculty in the rational man of to-day, it holds\nthat it did not exist in his primitive ancestors.  Earlier individuals\naccumulated a certain amount of experience and moral knowledge, the\nresult of which, as a habit or acquired capacity, was handed down to\ntheir successors.  From the first man has been a member of society, and\nis what he is in virtue of his relation to it.  All that makes him man,\nall his powers of body and mind, are inherited.  His instincts and\ndesires, which are the springs of action, are themselves the creation\nof heredity, association and environment.  The individual takes its\nshape at every point from its relation to the social organism of which\nit is a part.  What man really seeks from the earliest is satisfaction.\n'No school,' says Mr. Spencer, 'can avoid taking for the ultimate moral\naim a desirable {75} state of feeling.'[6]  Prolonged experience of\npleasure in connection with actions which serve social ends has\nresulted in certain physiological changes in the brain and nervous\nsystem rendering these actions constant.  Thus, according to Spencer,\nis begotten conscience.\n\nWhile acknowledging the service which the evolutionary theory has done\nin calling attention to the place and function of experience and social\nenvironment in the development of the moral life, and in showing that\nmoral judgment, like every other capacity, must participate in the\ngradual unfolding of personality, as a conclusive explanation of\nconscience it must be pronounced insufficient.  Press the analysis of\nsensation as far back as we please, and make an analysis of instincts\nand feelings as detailed as possible, we never get in man a mere\nsensation, as we find it in the lower animal; it is always sensation\nrelated to, and modified by, a self.  In the simplest human instincts\nthere is always a spiritual element which is the basis of the\npossibility at once of knowledge and morality.  'That countless\ngenerations,' says Green, 'should have passed during which a\ntransmitted organism was progressively modified by reaction on its\nsurroundings, by struggle for existence or otherwise, till its\nfunctions became such that an eternal consciousness could realise or\nproduce itself through them--might add to the wonder with which the\nconsideration of what we do and are must always fill us, but it could\nnot alter the results of that consideration.'[7]\n\nNo process of evolution, even though it draws upon illimitable ages,\ncan evolve what was not already present in the form of a spiritual\npotency.  The empiric treatment of conscience as the result of social\nenvironment and culture leads inevitably back to the assumption of some\nrudimentary moral consciousness without which the development of a\nmoral sense would be an impossibility.  The history of mankind,\nmoreover, shows that conscience, so far from being merely the reflex of\nthe prevailing customs and institutions of a particular age, has\nfrequently {76} closed its special character by reacting upon and\nprotesting against the recognised traditions of society.  The\nindividual conscience has often been in advance of its times; and the\nprogress of man has been secured as much by the champions of liberty as\nby those who conform to accepted customs.  In all moral advance there\ncomes a stage when, in the conflict of habit and principle, conscience\nasserts itself, not only in revealing a higher ideal, but in urging men\nto seek it.\n\nIII.  _The Validity and Witness of Conscience_.--It is not, however,\nwith the origin of conscience, but with its capacities and functions in\nits developed state that Ethics is primarily concerned.  The beginning\nmust be interpreted by the end, and the process by the result to which\nit tends.\n\n1.  The Christian doctrine is committed neither to the intuitional nor\nthe evolutionist theory, but rather may be said to reconcile both by\nretaining that which is true in each.  While it holds to the inherent\nability on the part of a being made in God's image to recognise at the\ndifferent stages of his growth and development God's will as it has\nbeen progressively revealed, it avoids the necessity of conceiving man\nas possessing from the very beginning a full-fledged organ of\ninfallible authority.  The conscience participates in man's general\nprogress and enlightenment.  Nor can the moral development of the\nindividual be held separate from the moral development of the race.  As\nthere is a moral solidarity of mankind, so the individual conscience is\nconditional by the social conscience.  The individual does not start in\nlife with a full-grown moral apparatus any more than he starts with a\nmatured physical frame.  The most distinctively spiritual attainments\nof man have their antecedents in less human and more animal capacities.\nAs there is a continuity of human life, so individuals and peoples\ninherit the moral assets of previous generations, and incorporate in\ntheir experience all past attainments.  Conscience is involved in man's\nmoral history.  It suffers in his sin and alienation from God, becoming\nclouded in its insight and feeble in its testimony, but it shares also\nin his {77} spiritual advancement, growing more sensitive and decisive\nin its judgments.\n\n(1) Conscience, as the New Testament teaches, can be _perverted_ and\ndebased.  It is always open to a free agent to disobey his conscience\nand reject its authority.  On the intuitional theory, which regards the\nconscience as a separable and independent faculty, it would be\ndifficult to vindicate the terrible consequences of such conduct.  It\nis because the conscience is the man himself as related to the\nconsciousness of the divine will that the effects are so injurious.\nConscience may be (_a_) _Stained_, defiled, and polluted in its very\ntexture (1 Cor. viii. 7); (_b_) _Branded_ or seared (1 Tim. iv. 2),\nrendered insensible to all feeling for good; (_c_) _Perverted_, in\nwhich the very light within becomes darkness.  In this last stage the\nman calls evil good and good evil--the very springs of his nature are\npoisoned and the avenues of his soul are closed.\n\n  'This is death, and the sole death,\n  When man's loss comes to him from his gain.'[8]\n\n\n(2) But if conscience can be perverted it may also be _improved_.  The\neducation is twofold, social and individual.  Through society, says\nGreen, personality is actualised.  'No individual can make a conscience\nfor himself.  He always needs a society to make it for him.'[9]  There\nis no such thing as a purely individual conscience.  Man can only\nrealise himself, come to his best, in relation to others.  The\nconditions amid which a man is born and reared--the home, the school,\nthe church, the state--are the means by which the conscience is\nexercised and educated.  But the individual is not passive.  He has\nalso a part to play; and the whole task of man may be regarded as an\nendeavour to make his conscience effective in life.  The New Testament\nwriters refrain from speaking of the conscience as an unerring and\nperfect organ.  Their language implies rather the possibility of its\ngradual enlightenment; and St. Paul specially dwells upon the necessity\nof 'growing in spiritual {78} knowledge and perception.'  As life\nadvances moral judgment may be modified and corrected by fuller\nknowledge, and the perception of a particular form of conduct as good\nmay yield to the experience of something better.\n\n2.  'It is one of the most wonderful things,' says Professor Wundt,\n'about moral development, that it unites so many conditions of\nsubordinate value in the accomplishment of higher results,'[10] and the\nworth of morality is not endangered because the grounds of its\nrealisation in special cases do not always correspond in elevation to\nthe moral ideas.  The conscience is not an independent faculty which\nissues its mandates irrespective of experience.  Its judgments are\nalways conditioned by motives.  The moral imperatives of conscience may\nbe grouped under four heads:[11] (1) _External constraints_, including\nall forms of punishment for immoral actions and the social\ndisadvantages which such actions involve.  These can only produce the\nlowest grade of morality, outward propriety, the mere appearance of\nvirtue which has only a negative value in so far as it avoids what is\nmorally offensive.  (2) _Internal constraints_, consisting of\ninfluences excited by the example of others, by public opinion and\nhabits formed through education and training.  (3) _Self-satisfaction_,\noriginating in the agent's own consciousness.  It may be a sense of\npleasure or feeling of self-approbation: or higher still, the idea of\nduty for its own sake, commonly called 'conscientiousness.'  (4) _The\nideal of life_, the highest imperative of conscience.  Here the\nnobility of life, as a whole, the supreme life-purpose, gives meaning\nand incentive to each and every action.  The ideal of life is not,\nhowever, something static and completed, given once and for all.  It\ngrows with the enlightenment of the individual and the development of\nhumanity.  The consciousness of every age comprehends it in certain\nlaws and ends of life.  The highest form of the ideal finds its\nembodiment in what are called noble characters.  These ethical heroes\nrise, in rare and exceptional circumstances, above the ordinary level\nof {79} common morality, gathering up into themselves the entire moral\ndevelopment of the past, and radiating their influence into the\nremotest distances of the future.  They are the embodiments of the\nconscience of the race, at once the standard and challenge of the moral\nlife of mankind, whose influence awakens the slumbering aspirations of\nmen, and whose creative genius affects the whole history of the world,\nlifting it to higher levels of thought and endeavour.\n\nThe supreme example--unique, however, both in kind and degree, and\ndiffering by its uniqueness from every other life which has in some\nmeasure approximated to the ideal--is disclosed in Jesus Christ.  Thus\nit is that the moral consciousness of the world generally and of the\nindividual in particular, of which the conscience is the organ and\nexpression, develops from less to more, under the influence of the\nsuccessive imperatives of conduct, till finally it attains to the\nvision of the greatness of life as it is revealed in its supreme and\nall-commanding ideal.[12]\n\n3.  Finally, in this connection the question of the _permanence of\nconscience_ may be referred to.  Is the ultimate of life a state in\nwhich conscience will pervade every department of a man's being,\ndominating all his thoughts and activities? or is the ideal condition\none in which conscience shall be outgrown and its operation rendered\nsuperfluous?  A recent writer on Christian ethics[13] makes the\nremarkable statement that where there is no sense of sin conscience has\nno function, and he draws the inference that where there is complete\nnormality and perfect moral health conscience will be in abeyance.\nSatan, inasmuch as he lacks all moral instinct, can know nothing of\nconscience; and, because of His sinlessness, Jesus must also be\npronounced conscienceless.  Hence the paradox attributed to\nMachiavelli: 'He who is without conscience is either a Christ or a\ndevil.'  But though it is true that the Son of Man had no actual\nexperience of sin, and could not, indeed, feel remorse or contrition,\nyet in so far as He was man there was in Him {80} the possibility of\nsin, and in the intimate relation which He bore to the human race He\nhad a most accurate and clear knowledge both of the meaning and\nconsequences of evil.  So far from saying that Christ had no\nconscience, it would be nearer the truth to say that He had a perfect\nconscience, a personality and fullness of consciousness which was a\ncomplete reflection of, and harmony with, the highest conceivable good.\nThe confusion of thought into which Professor Lemme seems to fall is\ndue, we cannot help thinking, to the too restricted and negative\nsignification he gives to conscience.  Conscience is not merely the\nfaculty of reproving and approving one's own conduct when brought into\nrelation with actual sin.  It is involved in every moral judgment.  A\ngood conscience is not only the absence of an evil one.  It has also a\npositive sanctioning value.  The 'ought' of life is constantly present.\nIt is the whole man ever conscious of, and confronted by, his ideal\nself.  The conscience participates in man's gradual progress and\nenlightenment; so far from the individual growing towards a condition\nin which self-judgment ceases, he is progressing rather in moral\ndiscernment, and becoming more and more responsive to the will of Him\nwhose impress and image he bears upon his soul.\n\nThe tendency of modern physiological accounts of conscience has been to\nundermine its authority and empty life of its responsibility, but no\ntheory of the origin of conscience must be permitted to invalidate its\njudgments.  If conscience has any moral worth it is that it contains\nthe promise and witness of God.  The prime question is, What is the\nnature of its testimony?  According to the teaching of Scripture it\nbears witness to the existence of a higher than man--to a divine Person\nwith whom he is spiritually akin and to whom he is accountable.\n\n'God's most intimate presence in the soul.'  As the revelation of God's\nwill grows clearer man's ideal becomes loftier.  Hence a man's\nconscience is the measure of his moral life.  It reveals God, and in\nthe light of God reveals man to himself.  We carry a 'forever' within\nour bosom, {81} 'ein Gott in unserer Brust,'[14] as Goethe says, which\nreminds us that even while denizens of this earth we are citizens of\nheaven and the sharers of an eternal life.  Like another John the\nBaptist, conscience points to one greater than itself.  It emphasises\nthe discord that exists between the various parts of man's nature, a\ndiscord which it condemns but cannot remove.  It can judge, but it\ncannot compel.  Hence it places man before Christ, and bids him yield\nto the sway of a new transforming power.  As one has finely said, 'He\nwho has implanted in every breast such irrefragible testimony to the\nright, and such unappeasable yearnings for its complete triumph, now\ncomes in His own perfect way to reveal Himself as the Lord of\nconscience, the Guide of its perplexities, the Strength of its weakness\nand the Perfecter of its highest hopes.'[15]\n\n\n\n[1] Davidson, _The Christian Conscience_.\n\n[2] Cf. Symonds, _Studies of Greek Poets_, first series, p. 191.\n\n[3] _Antigone_, Plumptre's Trans., 455-9.\n\n[4] Cf. Bunsen, _God in History_, vol. ii. p. 224; also Campbell,\n_Religion in Greek Literature_.\n\n[5] Cf. Wundt, _Ethik_, vol. ii. p. 66.\n\n[6] _Data of Ethics_, p. 18.\n\n[7] _Proleg._, section 83.\n\n[8] Browning.\n\n[9] _Proleg._, section 321.\n\n[10] _Ethik_, vol. ii. p. 66.\n\n[11] _Idem_.\n\n[12] Cf. Wundt, _Ethik_, vol. ii. pp. 67-74.\n\n[13] Lemme, _Christliche Ethik_, vol. i.\n\n[14] _Tasso_, act iii. scene 2.\n\n[15] Davidson, _The Christian Conscience_, p. 113.\n\n\n\n\n{82}\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n'THE MIRACLE OF THE WILL'\n\nClosely connected with the conscience as a moral capacity is the power of\nself-determination, or as it is popularly called--free-will.  If\nconscience is the manifestation of man as knowing, will is more\nespecially his manifestation as a being who acts.  The subject which we\nnow approach presents at once a problem and a task.  The nature of\nfreedom has been keenly debated from the earliest times, and the history\nof the problem of the will is almost the history of philosophy.  The\npractical question which arises is whether the individual has any power\nby which the gulf between the natural and the spiritual can be\ntranscended.  Can man choose and decide for a spiritual world above that\nin which he is by nature involved?  The revelation of the good must,\nindeed, precede the activity of man.  But at the same time the change\ncannot merely happen to him.  He cannot simply be a passive recipient.\nThe new life must be taken up by his own activity, and be made his by his\nown decision and acceptance.  This responsive activity on the part of man\nis the task which life presents to the will.\n\nMuch obviously depends upon the answer we are able to give to this\nquestion.  If man has no power of choice, no capacity of\nself-determination, and is nothing more than a part of the natural world,\nthen the ethical life is at once ruled out of court.\n\nThe difficulties connected with the problem of moral freedom resolve\nthemselves mainly into three: a scientific, a psychological, and a\ntheological.\n\n{83}\n\nI.  On the part of natural science it is claimed that man is subject,\nlike everything else, to physical necessity.\n\nII.  From the psychological standpoint it is urged that man's actions are\nalways determined by the strongest motive.\n\nIII.  On the theological side it is alleged that human freedom is\nincompatible with divine Sovereignty.  A complete doctrine of freedom\nwould require to be examined in the light of these three objections.  For\nour purpose it will be sufficient to indicate briefly the value of these\ndifficulties, and the manner in which they may be met.\n\n\nI\n\nThe wonderful progress of the natural sciences in the second half of the\nnineteenth century has tended to banish the old idea of freedom from the\nrealm of experience.  Science, it is maintained, clearly shows that man\nbelongs to a great world-movement, in relation to which his whole life\nand work are completely determined.  Though even in earlier ages, and\nespecially in Stoic philosophy, this conception of life was not ignored,\nit is more particularly in recent times, under the influence of the\nevolutionary theory, that the idea of determination has been applied with\nrelentless insistence to the structure of the soul.  There is, it is\nalleged, no room for change or spontaneity.  Everything, down to the\nminutest impulse, depends upon something else, and proceeds from a\ndefinite cause.  The idea of choice is simply the remnant of an\nunscientific mode of thinking.  It might be sufficient to reply that in\nthus reducing life and experience to a necessary part of a world-whole,\nmore is surrendered than even science is willing to yield.  The freedom\nwhich some writers reject in the interests of science they attempt to\nintroduce in an altered form.  Why are these philosophers so anxious to\nconserve the ethical consequences of life?  Is it not because they feel\nthat there is something in man which will not fit into a rigid\nworld-mechanism, and that conduct would cease {84} to have moral worth if\nlife were reduced to a causal series of happenings?  But it may be\nfurther argued that, if the mechanical conception of life, which reduces\nthe spiritual to the natural, were consistently carried out it would lead\nnot merely to the destruction of the moral life, but to the destruction\nof science itself.  If man is merely a part of nature, subject entirely\nto nature's law, then the realities of the higher life--love,\nself-sacrifice, devotion to ends beyond ourselves--must be radically\nre-interpreted or regarded simply as illusions.  But it is also true that\nfrom this standpoint science itself is an illusion.  For if reality lies\nonly in the passing impressions of our sensible nature, the claim of\nscience to find valid truth must end in the denial of the very\npossibility of knowledge.  Does not the very existence of physical\nscience imply the priority of thought?  While in one sense it may be\nconceded that man is a part of nature, does not the truth, which cannot\nbe gainsaid, that he is aware of the fact, prove a certain priority and\npower which differentiates him from all other phenomena of the universe?\nIf he is a link in the chain of being, he is at least a link which is\nconscious of what he is.  He is a being who knows himself, indeed,\nthrough the objective world, but also realises himself only as he makes\nhimself its master and the agent of a divine purpose to which all things\nare contributing, and for which all things exist.  In all our reasoning\nand endeavour we must start from the unity of the self-conscious soul.\nWhatever we can either know or achieve, is _our_ truth, _our_ act\npresented in and through our self-consciousness.  It is impossible for us\nto conceive any standard of truth or object of desire outside of our\nexperience.  As a thinking and acting being man pursues ends, and has the\nconsciousness that they are his own ends, subject to his own choice and\ncontrol.  It is always the self that the soul seeks; and the will is\nnothing else than the man making and finding for himself another world.\n\nThe attempt has recently been made to measure mental states by their\nphysical stimuli and explain mental {85} processes by cerebral reaction.\nIt is true that certain physical phenomena seem to be invariably\nantecedent to thought, but so far science has been unable to exhibit the\nform of nexus between these physical antecedents and ideas.  Even if the\nknowledge of the topography of the brain were immeasurably more advanced\nthan it now is, even though we could observe the vast network of\nnerve-fibres and filaments of which the brain is composed, and could\ndiscern the actual changes in brain-cells under nerve stimulations, we\nshould still be a long way off from understanding the nature and genesis\nof ideas which can only be known to us as immediate in their own quality.\nAll that we can ever affirm is that a certain physical excitation is the\nantecedent of thought.  It is illegitimate to say that it is the 'cause'\nof thought; unless, indeed, the word 'cause' be invested with no other\nmeaning than that which is involved in such a conception.  It is,\nhowever, in a very general way only, and within an exceedingly narrow\nrange, that such measurement is possible.  We do not even know at present\nwhat nerves correspond to the sensations of heat and cold, pain and joy;\nand all attempts to localise will-centres have proved unavailing.\n\nThe finer and more delicate feelings cannot be gauged.  But even though\nthe alleged parallelism were entirely demonstrated, the immediate and\npertinent question would still remain, Who or what is the investigator?\nIs it an ego, a thinking self? or is it only a complex of vibrations or\nmechanical impressions bound together in a particular body which, for\nconvenience, is called an ego?  Are the so-called entities--personality,\nconsciousness, self--but symbols, as Professor Mach says, useful in so\nfar as they help us to express our physical sensations, but which with\nfurther research must be pronounced illusions?[1]  Monistic naturalism,\nwhich would explain all psychical experiences in terms of cerebral\naction, must not be allowed to arrogate to itself powers which it does\nnot possess, and quietly brush {86} aside facts which do not fit into its\nsystem.  The moral sanctions so universally and deeply rooted in the\nconsciousness of mankind, the feelings of responsibility, of guilt and\nregret; the soul's fidelities and heroisms, its hopes and fears, its aims\nand ideals--the poetry, art, and religion that have made man what he is,\nall that has contributed to the uplifting of the world--are, to say the\nleast, unaccounted for, if it must be held that 'man is born in chains.'\nPrimary facts must not be surrendered nor ultimate experiences sacrificed\nin the interests of theoretic simplicity.  In the recent\nanti-metaphysical movement of Germany, of which Haeckel, Avenarius,\nOswald and Mach are representatives, there is presented the final\nconflict.  It is not freedom of will only that is at stake, it is the\nvery existence of a spiritual world.  'Es ist der Kampf um die Seele.'[2]\n\nIf the world forms a closed and 'given' system in which every particular\nis determined completely by its position in the whole, then there can be\nno place for spontaneity, initiative, creation, which all investigation\nshows to be the distinctive feature in human progress and upward\nmovement.  So far from its being true that the world makes man, it would\nbe nearer the truth to say that man makes the world.  A 'given' world can\nnever be primary.[3]  There must be a mind behind it.  We fall back,\ntherefore, upon the principle which must be postulated in the whole\ndiscussion--the unity and self-determining activity of the self-conscious\nmind.\n\n\nII\n\nWe may now proceed to the second problem of the will, the objection that\nhuman action is determined by motives, and that what we call freedom is\nnothing else than the necessary result of the pressure of motives upon\nthe will.  In other words, the conduct of the individual is always\ndetermined by the strongest motive.  It will be seen on examination that\nthis objection is just another form of that which we have already\nconsidered.  Indeed, the {87} analogy of mechanical power is frequently\napplied to the motives of the will.  Diverse motives have been compared\nto different forces which meet in one centre, and it is supposed that the\nresult in action is determined by the united pressure of these various\nmotives.  Now it may be freely admitted at the outset that the individual\nnever acts except under certain influences.  An uninfluenced man, an\nunbiassed character cannot exist.  Not for one moment do we escape the\nenvironment, material and moral, which stimulates our inner life to\nreaction and response.  It is not contended that a man is independent of\nall motives.  What we do affirm is that the self-realising potentiality\nof personality is present throughout.  Much of the confusion of thought\nin connection with this subject arises from a false and inadequate notion\nof personality.  Personality is the whole man, all that his past history,\npresent circumstances and future aims have made him, the result of all\nthat the world of which he is a part has contributed to his experience.\nHis bodily sensations, his mental acts, his desires and motives are not\ndetached and extraneous forces acting on him from without, but elements\nwhich constitute his whole being.  The person, in other words, is the\nvisible or tangible phenomenon of something inward--the phase or function\nby which an individual agent takes his place in the common world of human\nintercourse and interaction, and plays his peculiar and definite part in\nlife.[4]  But this totality of consciousness, so far from reducing man to\na 'mere manufactured article,' gives to personality its unique\ndistinction.  By personality all things are dominated.  'Other things\nexist, so to speak, for the sake of their kind and for the sake of other\nthings: a person is never a mere means to something beyond, but always at\nthe same time an end in himself.  He has the royal and divine right of\ncreating law, of starting by his exception a new law which shall\nhenceforth be a canon and a standard.'[5]\n\n{88}\n\nThe objection to the freedom of the will which we are now considering may\nbe best appreciated if we examine briefly the two extreme theories which\nhave been maintained on the subject.  On the one hand, _determinism_ or,\nas it is sometimes called, necessitarianism, holds that all our actions\nare conditioned by law--the so-called motive that influences a man's\nconduct is simply a link in a chain of occurrences of which his act is\nthe last.  The future has no possibilities hidden in its womb.  I am\nsimply what the past has made me.  My circumstances are given, and my\ncharacter is simply the necessary resultant of the natural forces that\nact upon me.  On the other hand, _indeterminism_, or libertarianism,\ninsists upon absolute liberty of choice of the individual, and denies\nthat necessity or continuity determines conduct.  Of two alternatives\nboth may now be really possible.  You can never predict what will be, nor\nlay down absolutely what a man will do.  The world is not a finished and\nfixed whole.  It admits of infinite possibilities, and instead of the\nvolition I have actually made, I could just as easily have made a\ndifferent one.\n\nWithout entering upon a detailed criticism of these two positions, it may\nbe said that both contain an element of truth and are not so\ncontradictory as they seem.  On the one hand, all the various factors of\nthe complex will may seem to be determined by something that lies beyond\nour control, and thus our will itself be really determined.  But, on the\nother hand, moral continuity in its last analysis is only a half truth,\nand must find its complement in the recognition of the possibilities of\nnew beginnings.  The very nature of moral action implies, as Lotze has\nsaid, that new factors may enter into the stream of causal sequence, and\nthat even though a man's life may be, and must be, largely conditioned by\nhis circumstances, his activity may be really originative and free.  What\nthe determinists seem to forget is, as Green says, that 'character is\nonly formed through a man's conscious presentation to himself of objects\nas _his_ good, as that in which his self-satisfaction is found.'[6] {89}\nDesires are always for objects which have a value for the individual.  A\nman's real character is reflected in his desires, and it is not that he\nis moved by some outside abstract force, which, being the strongest, he\ncannot resist, but it is because he puts _himself_ into the desire or\nmotive that it becomes the strongest, the one which he chooses to follow.\nMy motives are really part of myself, of which all my actions are the\noutcome.  Human desires, in short, are not merely external tendencies\nforcing a man this way or that way.  They are a part of the man himself,\nand are always directed towards objects related to a self; and it is the\nsatisfaction of self that makes them desirable.\n\nOn the other hand, the fallacy lurking in the libertarian view arises\nfrom the fact that it also makes a hard and fast distinction between the\nself and the will.  The indeterminists speak as if the self had amongst\nits several faculties a will which is free in the sense of being able to\nact independently of all desires and motives.  But, as a matter of fact,\nthe will, as we have said, is simply the man, and it cannot be separated\nfrom his history, his character, and the objects which his character\ndesires.  To speak, as people sometimes do in popular language, of being\nfree to do as they like--that is, to be influenced by no motive whatever,\nis not only an idea absurd in itself, but one which, if pushed to its\nconsequences, would be subversive of all freedom, and consequently of all\nmoral value.  'The liberty of indifference,' if the phrase means anything\nat all, implies not merely that the agent is free from all external\ncompulsion, but that he is free from himself, not determined even by his\nown character.  And if we ask what it really is that causes him to act,\nit must be answered, some caprice of the moment, some accidental impulse\nor arbitrary freak of fancy.  The late Professor James makes a valiant\nattempt to solve the 'dilemma of determinism' by resorting to the idea of\n'chance' which he defines as a 'purely relative term, giving us no\ninformation about that which is predicated, except that it happens to be\ndisconnected with something else--not controlled, secured or {90}\nnecessitated by other things in advance of its own actual presence.'[7]\n'On my way home,' he says, 'I can choose either of two ways'; and suppose\n'the choice is made twice over and each time falls on a different\nstreet.'  'Imagine that I first walk through Divinity Avenue, and then am\nset again at the door of this hall just as I was before the choice was\nmade.  Imagine then that, _everything else being the same_,[8] I now make\na different choice and traverse Oxford Street.  Looking outwardly at\nthese universes of which my two acts are a part, can you say which is the\nimpossible and accidental one and which the rational and necessary one?'\nPerhaps an outsider could not say, but Professor James, if he examined\nhis reasons, could say.  He assumes that 'everything else is the same.'\nBut that is just what cannot be.  A new factor has been introduced, it\nmay be a whim, a sudden impulse, perhaps even a desire to upset\ncalculation--a something in his character in virtue of which his second\nchoice is different from his first.  It is an utter misnomer to call it\n'chance.'  Even though he had tossed a coin and acted on the throw, his\naction would still be determined by the kind of man he was.\n\nLet us not seek to defend freedom on inadequate grounds, or contend for a\nspurious liberty.  No view of the subject should indeed debar us from\nacknowledging 'changes in heart and life,' but a misunderstanding of the\ndoctrine of freedom may tend to paralyse moral initiative.  The attempt\nto sunder the will and the understanding and discover the source of\nfreedom in the realm of the emotions, as the voluntarists seek to do,\ncannot be regarded as satisfactory or sound philosophy.  In separating\nfaith and knowledge the Ritschlian school tends to make subjective\nfeeling the measure of truth and life; while recent psychological\nexperiments in America with the phenomena of faith-healing, hypnotism and\nsuggestion, claim to have discovered hitherto unsuspected potencies of\nthe will.  This line of thought has been welcomed by many as a relief\nfrom the mechanical theory of life and as a witness to moral {91} freedom\nand Christian hope.  But so far from proving the sovereignty and autonomy\nof the will, it discloses rather the possibilities of its abject bondage\nand thraldom.\n\nNo one can doubt the facts which Professor James and others, working from\nthe side of religious psychology, have recently established, or discredit\nthe instances of conversion to which the annals of the Christian life so\nabundantly testify.  But even conversion must not be regarded as a change\nwithout motives.  There must be some connection between motive, character\nand act, otherwise the new spiritual experience would be simply a magical\nhappening lacking all moral significance.  If there were no continuity of\nconsciousness, if I could be something to-day irrespective of what I was\nyesterday, then all we signify by contrition, penitence, and shame would\nhave no real meaning.  Even the grace of God works through natural\nchannels and human influences.  The past is not so much obliterated, as\ntaken up into the new life and transfigured with a new value.\n\nThe truth of spontaneity and initiative in life has lately found in M.\nBergson a fresh and vigorous advocacy, and we cannot be too grateful to\nthat profound thinker for his reassertion of some neglected aspects of\nfreedom and his philosophical vindication of the doctrine which puts it\nin a new position of prominence and security.  'Life is Creation.'\n'Reality is a perpetual growth, a Creation pursued without end.'  'Our\nwill performs this miracle.'  'Every human work in which there is\ninvention, every movement that manifests spontaneity brings something new\ninto the world.  In the composition of the work of genius, as in a simple\nfree decision, we create what no mere assemblage of materials could have\ngiven.'[9]  But yet he says that 'life cannot create absolutely because\nit is confronted with matter. . . .  But it seizes upon this matter which\nis necessity itself, and strives to introduce into it the greatest\npossible amount of indetermination and liberty.'[10]  Even Bergson,\nthough he emphasises so strongly immediacy and incalculableness in {92}\nall human action, cannot deny that the bodily arrangements and mechanisms\nare at least the basis of the working of the soul.  Man cannot produce\nany change in the world except in strict co-ordination with the forces\nand qualities of material things.  The idea in his consciousness is\npowerless save in so far as it is a guide to combinations and\nmodifications which are latent in reality.  The man who works with his\nhands does not create out of nothing a new totality.  Even genius is\nconditioned by the elements he works with and upon.  He can do nothing\nwith his materials beyond what it is in themselves to yield.  This sense\nof co-operation is strongly marked in the higher grades of activity.  The\nworld may be in the making, as Bergson says, but it is being made of\npossibilities already inherent in it.  Life may be incalculable, and you\ncan never know beforehand what a great man, indeed, what any man may\nachieve, but even the originality of a Leonardo or a Beethoven cannot\neffect the impossible or contradict the order of nature.  The sculptor\nfeels that the statue is already lying in the marble awaiting only his\ncreative touch to bring it forth.  The metal is alive in the worker's\nhands, coaxing him to make of it something beautiful.[11]  Purpose does\nnot come out of an empty mind.  Freedom and initiative never begin\nentirely _de novo_.  Life is a 'creation,' but it is also, as M. Bergson\nlabours to prove, an 'evolution.'  Our ideals are made out of realities.\nOur heaven must be shaped out of the materials of our earth.\n\nA moral personality is a self-conscious, self-determining being.  But\nthat is only half the reality.  The other half is that it is a\nself-determining consciousness _in a world_.  As Bergson is careful to\ntell us, the shape and extent of self-consciousness are determined by our\nrelation to a world which acts upon us and upon which we act.  Without a\nworld in which we had personal business we should have no\nself-consciousness.\n\nThe co-operation of spontaneity and necessity is implied {93} in every\ntrue idea of freedom.  If a man were the subject of necessity alone he\nwould be merely the creature of mechanical causation.  If he had the\npower of spontaneity only his so-called freedom would be a thing of\ncaprice.  Necessity means simply that man is conditioned by the world in\nwhich he lives.  Spontaneity means, not that he can conjure up at a wish\na dream-world of no conditions, but that he is not determined by anything\noutside of himself, since the very conditions amid which he is placed may\nbe transmuted by him into elements of his own character.  Moral decisions\nare never isolated from ideals and tasks presented by our surroundings.\nThe self cannot act on any impulse however external till the impulse has\ntransplanted itself within and become our motive.\n\n'Our life,' says Eucken, 'is a conflict between fate and freedom, between\nbeing \"given\" and spontaneity.  Spiritual individuality does not come to\nany one, but has first to be won by the work of life, elevating that\nwhich destiny brings. . . .  The idea of freedom calls man to independent\nco-operation in the conflict of the worlds.  It gives to the simply human\nand apparently commonplace an incomparable greatness.  However powerful\ndestiny may be, it does not determine man entirely: for even in\nopposition to it there is liberation from it.'[12]\n\n\nIII\n\nIt will not be necessary to dwell at any length on the third\ndifficulty--the incompatibility of divine sovereignty and grace with\nmoral personality.\n\nHow to reconcile divine power and human freedom is the great problem\nwhich meets us on the very threshold of the study of man's relation to\nGod.  The solution, in so far as it is possible for the mind, must be\nsought in the divine immanence.  God works through man, and man acts\nthrough God.  Reason, conscience, and will are equally the testimony to\nGod's indwelling in man and man's {94} indwelling in God.  It is, as St.\nPaul says, God who worketh in us both to will and to do.  But just\nbecause of that inherent power, it is we who work out our own character\nand destiny.  The divine is not introduced into human life at particular\npoints or in exceptional crises only.  Every man has something of the\ndivine in him, and when he is truest to himself he is most at one with\nGod.  The whole meaning of human personality is a growing realisation of\nthe divine personality.  God's sovereignty has no meaning except in\nrelation to a world of which He is sovereign, and His purposes can only\nbe fulfilled through human agency.  While His thoughts far transcend in\nwisdom and sublimity those of His creatures they must be in a sense of\nthe same kind--thoughts, in other words, which beings made in His image\ncan receive, love and, in a measure, share.  And though God cannot be\nconceived as the author of evil, He may permit it and work through it,\nbringing order out of chaos, and evolving through suffering and conflict\nHis sovereign purposes.\n\nThe problem becomes acutest when we endeavour to harmonise the antinomy\nof man's moral freedom and the doctrine of grace.  However insoluble the\nmystery, it is not lessened by denying one side in the interest of unity.\nScripture boldly affirms both truths.  No writer insists more strenuously\nthan the Apostle Paul on the sovereign election of God, yet none presents\nwith greater fervour the free offer of salvation.  In his ethical\nteaching, at least, Paul is no determinist.  Freedom is the distinctive\nnote of his conception of life.  Life is a great and solemn trust\ncommitted to each by God, for the use or abuse of which every man will be\ncalled to account.  His missionary zeal would have no meaning if he did\nnot believe that men were free to accept or refuse his message.  Paul's\nown example, indeed, is typical, and while he knew that he was 'called,'\nhe knew, too, that it lay with him to yield himself and present his life\nas a living sacrifice to God.  Jesus, too, throughout His ministry,\nassumed the ability of man freely to accept His call to righteousness,\nand though He speaks {95} of the change as a 'new birth,' a creation from\nabove, beyond the strength of man to effect, He invariably makes His\nappeal to the will--'Follow Me,' 'Come unto Me.' He assumes in all His\ndealings with individuals that they have the power of decision.  And so\nfar from admitting that the past could not be undone, and no chain of\nhabit broken, the whole purpose of His message and lifework was to\nproclaim the need and possibility of a radical change in life.  So full\nof hope was He for man that He despaired of none, not even of those who\nhad most grievously failed, or most utterly turned their back on purity.\nThe parables in the Third Gospel of the lost coin, the lost sheep, and\nthe lost son lay emphasis upon the possibility of recovery, and, in the\ncase of the prodigal, specially on the ability to return for those who\nhave gone astray.\n\nThe teaching of Scripture implies that while God is the source of all\nspiritual good, and divine grace must be present with and precede all\nrightful action of the human will, it rests with man to respond to the\ndivine love.  No human soul is left destitute of the visiting of God's\nspirit, and however rudimentary the moral life may be, no bounds can be\nset to the growth which may, and which God intends should, result\nwherever the human will is consentient.  While, therefore, no man can\nclaim merit in the sight of God, but must acknowledge his absolute\ndependency upon divine grace, no one can escape loss or blame if he\nwilfully frustrates God's design of mercy.  Whatever mystery may attend\nthe subject of God's sovereign grace, the Bible never presents it as\nnegating the entire freedom of man to give or withhold response to the\ngift and leading of the divine spirit.\n\nIn the deepest New Testament sense to be free is to have the power of\nacting according to one's true nature.  A man's ideal is his true self,\nand all short of that is for him a limitation of freedom.  Inasmuch as no\nideal is ever completely realised, true freedom is not so much a\npossession as a progressive appropriation.  It is at once a gift and a\ntask.  It contains the twofold idea of emancipation {96} and submission.\nMere deliverance from the lower self is not liberty.  Freedom must be\ncompleted by the appropriation of the higher self and the acceptance of\nthe obligations which that self involves.  It is to be acquired through\nsubmission to the truth.  'Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall\nmake you free.'  A man is never so free as when he is the bondsman of\nChrist.  The saying of St. Paul sums up the secret and essence of all\ntrue freedom: 'The law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me\nfree from the law of sin and death.'\n\n\n\n[1] Mach, _Erkenntniss und Irrtum_.  Vorwort.  See also _Die Analyse der\nEmpfindungen_, p. 20.  'Das Sich ist unrettbar,' he says.\n\n[2] Cf. W. Schmidt, _Der Kampf um die Seele_, p. 13.\n\n[3] Cf. Eucken.\n\n[4] Cf. Wallace, _Logic of Hegel, Proleg._, p. 233.\n\n[5] Wallace, _Idem_, p. 235.  Cf. Aristotle's wise man whose conduct is\nnot _kata logon_ but _meta logon_.\n\n[6] _Proleg._, section 108.\n\n[7] _The Will to Believe_, p. 154.\n\n[8] _The italics are ours_.\n\n[9] _Creative Evolution_ (Eng. trans.), p. 252.\n\n[10] _Idem_, p. 265.\n\n[11] Cf. Morris, _Lects. on Art_, p. 195; Bosanquet, _Hist. of\nAesthetic_, p. 445; also _Individuality and Value_, p. 166.\n\n[12] _Life's Basis and Life's Ideals_, p. 181 f.\n\n\n\n\n{97}\n\nSECTION C\n\nCHARACTER\n\n{99}\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nMODERN THEORIES OF LIFE\n\nBearing in mind the three fundamental ideas lying at the root of all\nethical inquiry--End, Norm, and Motive--we have now to deal with the\nshaping forces of the Christian life, the making of character.  In this\nsection, therefore, we shall be engaged in a discussion of the ideals,\nlaws, and springs of moral action.  And first, What is the supreme good?\nWhat is the highest for which a man should live?  This question\ndetermines the main problem of life.  It forces itself irresistibly upon\nus to-day, and the answer to it is the test of every system of morals.\n\nBut before endeavouring to determine the distinctively Christian ideal,\nas presented in the teaching of Jesus and interpreted by the growing\nChristian consciousness of mankind, it may be well to review briefly some\nof the main theories of life which are pressing their claims upon our\nattention to-day.  Many of these modern views have arisen as a reaction\nagainst traditional religion.  From the seventeenth century onwards, and\nespecially during the nineteenth, there has been a growing disposition to\ncall in question the Christian conception of life.  The antagonism\nreveals itself not only in a distrust of all forms of religion, but also\nin a craving for wider culture.  The old certitudes fail to satisfy men\nwho have acquired new habits of reflection, and there is a disinclination\nto accept a scheme of life which seems to narrow human interests and\nexclude such departments as science, art, and politics.  One reason of\nthis change is to be found in the wonderful advance of science during the\nlast century.  Men's minds, withdrawn {100} from primary, and fixed upon\nsecondary causes, have refused to believe that the order of nature can be\ndisturbed by supernatural intervention.  Whether the modern antipathy to\nChristianity is justified is not the question at present before us.  We\nmay see in the movements of our day not so much a proof that the old\nfaith is false, as an indication that if Christianity is to regain its\npower a radical re-statement of its truths, and a more comprehensive\napplication of its principles to life as a whole must be undertaken.\n\nIn the endeavour to find an all-embracing ideal of life two possibilities\npresent themselves, arising from two different ways of viewing man.\nHuman life is in one aspect receptive; in another, active.  It may be\nregarded as dependent upon nature for its maintenance, or as a creative\npower whose function is not merely to receive what nature supplies, but\nto re-shape nature's materials and create a new spiritual world.\nReceptivity and activity are inseparable, and form together the\nharmonious rhythm of life.\n\nBut there has ever been a tendency to emphasise one or other of these\naspects.  The question has constantly arisen, Which is the more important\nfor life--what we receive or what we create?  Accordingly two contrasted\nconceptions of life have appeared--a naturalistic and an idealistic.\nUnder the first we understand those theories which place man in the realm\nof sense and explain life by material conditions; under the second we\ngroup such systems as give to life an independent creative power.\n\n\nI\n\nNATURALISTIC TENDENCY\n\n1.  Naturalism has usually taken three forms, an idyllic or poetic, a\nphilosophic, and a scientific, of which Rousseau, Feuerbach, and Haeckel\nmay be chosen as representatives.\n\n(1) According to Rousseau, man is really a part of nature, {101} and only\nas he conforms to her laws and finds his satisfaction in what she gives\ncan he be truly happy.  Nature is the mother of us all, and only as we\nallow her spirit to pervade and nourish our being do we really live.  The\nwatchword, 'back to nature' may be said to have given the first impulse\nto the later call of the 'simple life,' which has arisen as a protest\nagainst the luxury, ostentation, and artificiality of modern times.\n\n(2) The philosophical form of naturalism, as expounded by Feuerbach,\ninveighs against an idealistic interpretation of life.  The author of\n_The Essence of Christianity_ started as a disciple of Hegel, but soon\nreversed the Hegelian principle, and pronounced the spiritual world to be\na fiction of the mind.  Man belongs essentially to the earth, and is\ngoverned by his senses.  Self-interest is his only motive, and egoism his\nsole law of life.  It was only what might be expected, that the ultimate\nconsequences of this philosophy of the senses should be drawn by a\ndisciple of Feuerbach, Max Stirner,[1] in whose work, _The Individual and\nHis Property_, the virtues of egoism are extolled, and contempt is poured\nupon all disinterestedness and altruism.\n\n(3) The latest form of naturalism is the scientific or monistic, as\nrepresented by Haeckel.  It may be described as scientific in so far as\nits author professes to deduce the moral life from biological principles.\nIn the chapter[2] devoted to Ethics in his work, _The Riddle of the\nUniverse_, his pronouncements upon morality are not scientifically\nderived, but simply dogmatically assumed.  The underlying principle of\nmonism is that the universe is a unity in which no distinction exists\nbetween the material and the spiritual.  In this world as we know it\nthere reigns only one kind of law, the invariable law of nature.  The\nso-called spiritual life of man is not an independent realm having its\nown rights and aims; it belongs wholly to nature.  The moral world is a\nprovince of the physical, and the key to all the departments of reality\nis to be found in science {102} alone.  The doctrine of evolution is\nbrought into the service of monism, and the attempt is made to prove that\nin the very process of biological development human thought, moral\nsentiment, and social instincts have been evolved.  With a curious\nsacrifice of consistency, Haeckel does not agree with Feuerbach in\nexalting egoism to the place of supremacy in the moral life.  He\nrecognises two kinds of duty--duty to self and duty to society.  The\nsocial sense once created is permanent, and rises to ever-fresh\ndevelopments.  But benevolence, like every other obligation, is,\naccording to evolutionary monism, a product evolved from the battle of\nexistence.  Traced to its source, it has its spring in the physical\norganism, and is but an enlargement of the ego.[3]\n\nThe monistic naturalism of Haeckel offers no high ideal to life.  Its\nEthics is but a glorified egoism.  Its dictates never rise above the\nimpulses derived from nature.  But not religion only with its kingdom of\nGod, nor morality only with its imperatives, nor art with its power of\nidealising the world of nature, but even science itself, with its claim\nto unify and organise facts, proves that man stands apart from, and is\nhigher than, the material world.  The very existence of such activities\nin the invisible realm renders vain every attempt to reduce the spiritual\nto the natural, and to make truth, goodness and beauty mere outgrowths of\nnature.\n\n2.  On its ethical side naturalism is closely associated with the theory\nof life which bears the name of _utilitarianism_--the theory which\nregards pleasure or profit as the aim of man.  In its most independent\nform Hedonism can hardly be said to exist now as a reasoned theory.\nCarried out to its extreme consequences it reduces man to a mere animal.\nHence a type of reflective egoism has taken the place of animal\ngratification, and the idea of ulterior benefit has succeeded to that of\nimmediate pleasure.\n\nThe names associated with this theory of morals are those of Hobbes,\nBentham, and the two Mills.  Hobbes, {103} who preaches undiluted\negoism,[4] may be regarded as the father of utilitarianism.  But the\ntitle was first applied to the school of Bentham.[5]  Bentham's watchword\nwas 'utility' expressed in his famous formula--'The greatest happiness of\nthe greatest number.'  While renouncing the abstract ideal of equality,\nhe yet asserted the equal claim of every individual to happiness.  In its\ndistribution 'each is to count for one, and no one for more than one.'\nHence Bentham insisted upon an exact quantitative calculation of the\nconsequences of our actions as the only sufficient guide to conduct.  The\nend is the production of the maximum of pleasure and the minimum of pain.\n\nJ. S. Mill modified considerably the principle of utility by introducing\nthe doctrine of the qualitative difference in pleasures.[6] While Bentham\nassumed self-interest as the only motive of conduct, Mill affirmed the\npossibility of altruism in the motive as well as in the end or criterion\nof right actions.[7]  Thus the idea of utility was extended to embrace\nhigher moral ends.  But the antithesis between the 'self' and the 'other'\nwas not overcome.  To introduce the notion of sympathy, as Adam Smith and\nothers did, is to beg the question.  Try as you will, you cannot deduce\nbenevolence from selfishness.  The question for the utilitarian must\nalways arise, 'How far ought I to follow my natural desires, and how far\nmy altruistic?'  There must be a constant conflict, and he can only be at\npeace with himself by striking a balance.  The utilitarian must be a\nlegalist.  The principle of self-sacrifice does not spring from his inner\nbeing.  Truth, love, sacrifice--all that gives to man his true worth as a\nbeing standing in vital relation to God--are only artificial adaptations\nbased on convenience and general advantage.\n\n3.  Evolutionary ethics, as expounded by Spencer and others, though\nemploying utilitarian principles, affords an ampler and more plausible\naccount of life than early {104} Hedonism.[8]  The evolutionists have\nenriched the idea of happiness by quietly slipping in many ends which\nreally belong to the idea of the 'good.'  As the term 'gravitation' was\nthe magic word of the eighteenth century, so the word 'evolution' is the\ntalisman of the present age.  It must be admitted that it is a sublime\nand fruitful idea.  It explains much in nature and history which the old\nstatic notion failed to account for.  It has a great deal to teach us\neven in the spiritual sphere.  But when applied to life as a whole, and\nwhen it is assumed to be the sole explanation of moral action, it is apt\nto rob the will of its initiative and reduce all moral achievements to\nmerely natural factors in an unfolding drama of life.  The soul itself,\nwith all its manifestations and experiences, is treated simply as the\nresultant and harmonious effect of adaptation to environment.  Man is\nregarded as the highest animal, the most richly specialised organism--the\nlast of a long series in the development of life, the outstanding feature\nof which is the acquired power of complete adjustment to the world, of\nwhich it is a part.  Strictly speaking, there is no room for a personal\nGod in this mechanical theory of the universe.  The world becomes\ninevitably 'the Be all and the End all.'  Hence, as might be expected,\nwhile evolutionary Ethics claims to cover the whole range of this present\nlife, it does not pretend to extend into the regions of the hereafter.\nIt is concerned only with what it conceives to be the highest earthly\ngood--the material and social well-being of mankind.  But no theory of\nlife can be pronounced satisfactory which explains man in terms of this\nearth alone.  The 'Great Unknown' which Mr. Spencer posits[9] as the\nultimate source of all power, is a force to be reckoned with; and, known\nor unknown, is the mightiest factor in all life's experiences.  Man's\nspiritual nature in its whole range cannot be treated as of no account.\n'The powers of the world to come' have an essential bearing upon human\n{105} conduct in this world.  They shape our thoughts and determine our\nideals.  Hence any view of life which excludes from consideration the\nspiritual side of man, and limits his horizon by the things of this earth\nmust of necessity be inadequate and unsatisfactory.\n\n4.  Closely connected with, and, indeed, arising out of, the evolutionary\ntheory, another type of thought, prevalent to-day, falls to be\nnoted--_the socialistic tendency_.  It is now universally recognised that\nthe individual cannot be treated as an isolated being, but only in\nrelation to society of which he is a part.  The emphasis is laid upon the\nsolidarity of mankind, and man is explained by such social facts as\nheredity and environment.  Marx and Engels, the pioneers of the\nsocialistic movement, accepted in the fullest sense the scientific\ndoctrine of evolution.  So far from being a mere Utopian dream, Marx\ncontends that Socialism is the inevitable outcome of the movement of\nmodern society.  The aim of the agitation is to bring men to a clear\nconsciousness of a process which is going forward in all countries where\nthe modern industrial methods prevail.  Democracy must come to itself and\nassume its rights.  The keynote of the past has been the exploitation of\nman by man in the three forms of slavery, serfdom, and wage-labour.  The\nkeynote of the future must be the exploitation of the earth by man\n_associated to man_.  The practical aim of Socialism is that industry is\nto be carried on by associated labourers jointly owning the means of\nproduction.  Here, again, the all-pervading ideal is--the general good of\nsociety--the happiness of the greatest number.  The reduction of all aims\nto a common level, the equalising of social conditions, the direction and\ncontrol of all private interests and personal endeavours, are to be means\nto one end--the material good of the community.  Socialism is not,\nhowever, confined to an agitation for material welfare.  The industrial\naspect of it is only a phase of a larger movement.  On its ethical side\nit is the outcome of a strong aspiration after a higher life.[10]  The\nworld is awakening to {106} the fact that the majority of the human\nfamily has been virtually excluded from all participation in man's\ninheritance of knowledge and culture.  The labouring classes have been\nfrom time immemorial sunk in drudgery and ignorance, bearing the burden\nof society without sharing in its happiness.  It is contended that every\nman ought to have an opportunity of making the most of his life and\nobtaining full freedom for the development of body and mind.  The aim to\nsecure justice for the many, to protect the weak against the strong, to\nmitigate the fierceness of competition, to bring about a better\nunderstanding between capital and labour, and to gain for all a more\nelevated and expansive existence, is not merely consistent with, but\nindispensable to, a true Christian conception of life.  But the question\nwhich naturally arises is, how this reformation is to be brought about.\nNever before have so many revolutionary schemes been proposed, and so\nmany social panaceas for a better world set forth.  It is, indeed, a\nhopeful sign of the times that the age of unconcern is gone and the\ntemper of cautious inaction has yielded to scientific diagnosis and\ncourageous treatment.  It must not be forgotten, however, that the\nexclusively utilitarian position tends to lower the moral ideal, and that\nthe exaggerated emphasis upon the social aspect of life fails to do\njustice to the independence of the individual.  The tendency of modern\npolitical thought is to increase the control of government, and to regard\nall departments of activity as branches of the state, to be held and\nworked for the general good of the community.  Thus there is a danger\nthat the individual may gradually lose all initiative, and life be\nimpoverished under a coercive mechanical system.\n\nSocialism in its extreme form might easily become a new kind of tyranny.\nBy the establishment of collectivism, by making the state the sole owner\nof all wealth, the sole employer of labour, and the controller of science\nand art, as well as of education and religion, there is a danger of\ncrushing the spiritual side of man, and giving to all life and endeavour\na merely naturalistic character and content.\n\n{107}\n\n5.  It was inevitable that an exaggerated insistence upon the importance\nof society should provoke an equally one-sided emphasis upon the worth of\nthe individual, and that as a protest against the demands of Socialism\nthere should arise a form of subjectivism which aims at complete\nself-affirmation.\n\n(1) This tendency has received the name of _aesthetic-individualism_.  As\na conception of life it may be regarded as intermediate between\nnaturalism and idealism.  While rooted in a materialistic view of life,\nit is moulded in the hands of its best advocates by spiritual\naspirations.  Its standpoint may be characterised as a theory of\nexistence which seeks the highest value of life in the realm of the\nbeautiful, and which therefore endeavours to promote the supreme good of\nthe individual through devotion to art.  Not only does the cultivation of\nart tend in itself to elevate life by concentrating the soul upon all\nthat is fairest and noblest in the world, but the best means of enriching\nand ennobling life is to regard life itself as a work of art.  This view\nof existence, it is claimed, widens the scope of experience, and leads us\ninto ampler worlds of interest and enjoyment.  It aims at giving to\npersonality a rounded completeness, and bringing the manifold powers and\npassions of man into harmonious unity.  As a theory of life it is not\nnew.  Already Plato, and still more Aristotle, maintained that a true man\nmust seek his highest satisfaction not in the possession of external\nthings, but in the most complete manifestation of his faculties.\nIndividual aestheticism largely animated the Romantic movement of Germany\nat the beginning of last century.  But probably the best illustration of\nit is to be found in Goethe and Schiller; while in our country Matthew\nArnold has given it a powerful and persuasive exposition.  It was the aim\nof Goethe to mould his life into a work of art, and all his activities\nand poetic aspirations were subordinated to this end.  The beautiful\nharmonious life is the true life, the well-rounded whole from which must\nbe banished everything narrow, vulgar, and distasteful, and in which\n{108} everything fair and noble must find expression.  'Each individual,'\nsays Schiller, 'is at once fitted and destined for a pure ideal manhood.'\nAnd the attainment of this ideal requires from us the most zealous\nself-culture and a concentration of effort upon our own peculiar\ngifts.[11]\n\nA new form of aestheticism has lately appeared which pretends to combine\nmorality and culture.  'The New Ethic,'[12] as it is called, protests\nagainst the sombreness of religious traditions and the rigidity of moral\nrestrictions, and assigns to art the function of emancipating man and\nidealising life.  But what this movement really offers under its new\ncatchword is simply a subtler form of epicureanism, a finer\nself-indulgence.  It is the expression of a desire to be free from all\nrestraint, to close one's eyes to the 'majesty of human suffering,'\nallowing one's thoughts to dwell only upon the agreeable and gay in life.\nIt regards man as simply the sum-total of his natural inclinations, and\nconceives duty to be nothing else than the endeavour to bring these into\nequilibrium.\n\nThat the aesthetic culture of life is a legitimate element in Christian\nmorality can hardly be denied by any one who has pondered the meaning in\nall its breadth of the natural simplicity and spiritual beauty of the\nmanifestation of the Son of Man.  The beautiful, the good, and the true\nare intimately connected, and constitute together all that is conceivably\nhighest in life.  Christian Ethics ought to include everything that is\ngracious and fair; and any theory of life that has no room for joy and\nbeauty, for laughter and song, for appreciation of artistic or poetic\nexpression, is surely deficient.  But it is one thing to acknowledge\nthese things; it is another to make them the whole of existence.  We live\nin a world in which much else besides beauty and joy exists, and it is\nnot by shirking contact with the unlovely phases of experience, but by\nresolutely accepting the ministry of sorrow they impose, {109} that we\nattain to our highest selves.  The narrow Puritanism of a past age may\nneed the corrective of the broader Humanism of to-day, but not less must\nthe Ethic of self-culture be reinforced by the Ethic of self-sacrifice.\nWe may not cultivate the beauty of life at the cost of duty, nor forget\nthat it is often only through the immolation of self that the self can be\nrealised.\n\n(2) While the Romantic movement, of which Goethe was the most illustrious\nrepresentative, did much to enlarge life and ennoble the whole expanse of\nbeing, its extreme subjectivism and aristocratic exclusiveness found\nultimate expression (_a_) in the pessimism of Schopenhauer, and the\narrogance of Nietzsche.  The alliance between art and morality was\ndissolved.  The imagination scorned all fetters and, in its craving for\nnovelty and contempt of convention, became the organ of individual\ncaprice and licence.  In Nietzsche--that strange erratic genius--at once\nartist, philosopher, and rhapsodist--this philosophy of life found\nbrilliant if bizarre utterance.  If Schopenhauer reduces existence to\nnothing, and finds in oblivion and extinction its solution, (_b_)\nNietzsche seeks rather to magnify life by striking the note of a proud\nand defiant optimism.  He claims for the individual limitless rights;\nand, repudiating all moral ties, asserts the complete sovereignty of the\nself-sufficing ego.  With a deep-rooted hatred of the prevailing\ntendencies of civilisation, he combines a vehement desire for a richer\nand unrestrained development of human power.  He would not only revalue\nall moral values, but reverse all ideas of right and wrong.  He would\nsoar 'beyond good and evil,' declaring that the prevailing judgments of\nmankind are pernicious prejudices which have too long tyrannised over the\nworld.  He acknowledges himself to be not a moralist, but an\n'immoralist,' and he bids us break in pieces the ancient tables of the\nDecalogue.  Christianity is the most debasing form of slave-morality.  It\nhas made a merit of weakness and servility, and given the name of virtue\nto such imbecilities as meekness and self-sacrifice.  He calls upon the\nindividual to exalt himself.  The man of {110} the future is to be the\nman of self-mastery and virile force, 'the Superman,' who is to crush\nunder his heel the cringing herd of weaklings who have hitherto possessed\nthe world.  The earth is for the strong, the capable, the few.  A mighty\nrace, self-assertive, full of vitality and will, is the goal of humanity.\nThe vital significance of Nietzsche's radicalism lies less in its\npositive achievement than in its stimulating effect.  Though his account\nof Christianity is a caricature, his strong invective has done much to\ncorrect the sentimental rose-water view of the Christian faith which has\nbeen current in some pietistic circles.  The Superman, with all its\nvagueness, is a noble, inspiring ideal.  The problem of the race is to\nproduce a higher manhood, to realise which there is need for sacrifice\nand courage.  Nietzsche is the spiritual father and forerunner of the\nEugenics.  The Superman is not born, he is bred.  Our passions must be\nour servants.  Obedience and fidelity, self-discipline and courage are\nthe virtues upon which he insists.  'Be master of life. . . .'  'I call\nyou to a new nobility.  Ye shall become the procreators and sowers of the\nfuture.'\n\nWhile there is much that is suggestive in Nietzsche's scathing\ncriticisms, and many passages of striking beauty in his books, he is\nstronger in his denials than his affirmations, and it is the negative\nside that his followers have fastened upon and developed.  Sudermann, the\nnovelist, has carried his philosophy of egoism to its extreme.  This\nwriter, in a work entitled _Sodom's End_, affirms that there is nothing\nholy and nothing evil.  There is no such thing as duty or love.  Only\nnerves exist.  The 'Superman' becomes a monster.  Such teaching can\nscarcely be taken seriously.  It conveys no helpful message.  It is the\nperversion of life's ideal.\n\nAs a passing phase of thought it is interesting, but it solves no\nproblems; it advances no truths.  It resembles a whirlwind which helps to\nclear the air and drive away superfluous leaves, but it does little to\nquicken or expand new seeds of life.\n\n{111}\n\nII\n\nIDEALISTIC TENDENCY\n\n1.  Modern Idealism was inaugurated by Kant.  Kant's significance for\nthought lies in his twofold demand for a new basis of knowledge and\nmorality.  He conceived that both are possible, and that both are\ninterdependent, and have but one solution.  The solution, however, could\nonly be achieved by a radical change of method, and by the introduction\nof new standards of value.  Kant's theory of morals was an attempt to\nreconcile the two opposing ethical principles which were current in the\neighteenth century.  On the one side, the Realists treated man simply as\na natural being, and accordingly demanded a pursuance of his natural\nimpulses.  On the other side, the Dogmatists conceived that conduct must\nbe governed by divine sanctions.  Both theories agreed in regarding\nhappiness as the end of life; the one the happiness of sensuous\nenjoyment; the other, that of divine favour.  Both set an end outside of\nman himself as the basis of their ethical doctrine.  Kant was\ndissatisfied with this explanation of the moral life.  The question,\ntherefore, which arises is, Whence comes the idea of duty which is an\nundeniable fact of our experience?  If it came merely from without, it\ncould never speak to us with absolute authority, nor claim unquestioning\nobedience.  That which comes from without depends for its justification\nupon some consequence external to our action, and must be based, indeed,\nupon some excitement of reward or pain.  But that would destroy it as a\nmoral good; since nothing can be morally good that is not pursued for its\nown sake.  Kant, therefore, seeks to show that the law of the moral life\nmust originate within us, must spring from an inherent principle of our\nown rational nature.  Hence the distinctive feature of Kant's moral\ntheory is the enunciation of the 'Categorical Imperative'--the supreme\ninner demand of reason.  From this principle of autonomy there arise at\nonce the notions of man's freedom and the law's {112} universality.\nSelf-determination is the presupposition of all morality.  But what is\ntrue for one is true for all.  Each man is a member of a rational order,\nand possesses the inalienable independence and the moral dignity of being\nan end in himself.  Hence the formula of all duty is, 'Act from a maxim\nat all times fit to be a universal law.'\n\nIt is the merit of Kant that he has given clear expression to the majesty\nof the moral law.  No thinker has more strongly asserted man's spiritual\nnature or done more to free the ideal of duty from all individual\nnarrowness and selfish interest.  But Kant's principle of duty labours\nunder the defect, that while it determines the form, it tells us nothing\nof the content of duty.  We learn from him the grandeur of the moral law,\nbut not its essence or motive-power.  He does not clearly explain what it\nis in the inner nature of man that gives to obligation its universal\nvalidity or even its dominating force.  As a recent writer truly says,\n'In order that morality may be possible at all, its law must be realised\n_in_ me, but while the way in which it is realised is mine, the content\nis not mine; otherwise the whole conception of obligation is\ndestroyed.'[13]  If the soul's function is purely formal how can we\nattain to a self-contained life?  Moreover, if the freedom which Kant\nassigns to man is really to achieve a higher ideal and bring forth a new\nworld, must there not be some spiritual power or energy, some dynamic\nforce, which, while it is within man, is also without, and independent\nof, him?  'Duty for duty's sake' lacks lifting power, and is the essence\nof legalism.  Love, after all, is the fulfilling of the law.\n\n2.  To overcome the Kantian abstraction, and give content to the formal\nlaw of reason was the aim of the idealistic writers who succeeded him.\nFichte conceived of morality as action--self-consciousness realising\nitself in a world of deeds.  Hegel started with the _Idea_ as the source\nof all reality, and developed the conception of Personality attaining\nself-realisation through the growing consciousness of the world and of\nGod.  Personality involves capacity.  The {113} law of life, therefore,\nis, 'Be a person and respect others as persons.'[14] Man only comes to\nhimself as he becomes conscious that his life is rooted in a larger self.\nMorality is just the gradual unfolding of an eternal purpose whose whole\nis the perfection of humanity.  It has been objected that the idea of\nlife as an evolutionary process, which finds its most imposing embodiment\nin the system of Hegel, if consistently carried out, destroys all\npersonal motive and self-determining activity, and reduces the history of\nthe world to a soulless mechanism.  Hegel himself was aware of this\nobjection, and the whole aim of his philosophy was to show that\npersonality has no meaning if it be not the growing consciousness of the\ninfinite.  The more recent exponents of his teaching have endeavoured to\nprove that the individual, so far from being suppressed, is really\n_expressed_ in the process, that, indeed, while the universal life\nunderlies, unifies, and directs the particular phases of existence, the\nindividual in realising himself is at the same time determining and\nevolving the larger spiritual world--a world already implicitly present\nin his earliest consciousness and first strivings.  The absolute is\nindeed within us from the very beginning, but we have to work it out.\nHence life is achieved through conflict.  The universe is not a place for\npleasure or apathy.  It is a place for soul-making.  No rest is to be\nfound by an indolent withdrawal from the world of reality.  'In one way\nor another, in labour, in learning, and in religion, every man has his\npilgrimage to make, his self to remould and to acquire, his world and\nsurroundings to transform. . . .  It is in this adventure, and not apart\nfrom it, that we find and maintain the personality which we suppose\nourselves to possess _ab initio_.'[15] The soul is a world in itself; but\nit is not, and must not be treated as, an isolated personality impervious\nto the mind of others.  At each stage of its evolution it is the focus\nand expression of a larger world.  A man does not value himself as a\ndetached subject, but as the {114} inheritor of gifts which are focused\nin him.  Man, in short, is a trustee for the world; and suffering and\nprivation are among his opportunities.  The question for each is, How\nmuch can he make of them?  Something above us there must be to make us do\nand dare and hope, and the important thing is not one's separate destiny,\nbut the completeness of experience and one's contribution to it.[16]\n\n3.  It was inevitable that there should arise a reaction against the\nextreme Intellectualism of Hegel and his school, and that a conception of\nexistence which lays the emphasis upon the claims of practical life\nshould grow in favour.  The pursuit of knowledge tended to become merely\na means of promoting human well-being.\n\nThe first definite attempt to formulate a specific theory of knowledge\nwith this practical aim in view takes the form of what is known as\n'Pragmatism.'  The modern use of this term is chiefly connected with the\nname of the late Professor James, to whose brilliant writings we are\nlargely indebted for the elucidation of its meaning.  'Pragmatism,' says\nJames, 'represents the empiricist attitude both in a more radical and\nless objectionable form than it has ever yet assumed.'[17]  It agrees\nwith utilitarianism in explaining practical aspects, and with positivism\nin disdaining useless abstractions.  It claims to be a method rather than\na system of philosophy.  And its method consists in bringing the pursuit\nof knowledge into close relationship with life.  Nothing is to be\nregarded as true which cannot be justified by its value for man.  The\nhypothesis which on the whole works best, which most aptly fits the\ncircumstances of a particular case, is true.  The emphasis is laid not on\nabsolute principles, but on consequences.  We must not consider things as\nthey are in themselves, but in their reference to the good of mankind.\nIt is useless, for example, to speculate about the existence of God.  If\nthe hypothesis of a deity works satisfactorily, if the best results\nfollow for the moral well-being of humanity by believing in a God, {115}\nthen the hypothesis may be taken as true.  It is true at least for us.\nTruth, according to Pragmatism, has no independent existence.  It is\nwholly subjective, relative, instrumental.  Its only test is its utility,\nits workableness.\n\nThis view of truth, though supported by much ingenuity and brilliance,\nwould seem to contradict the very idea of truth, and to be subversive of\nall moral values.  If truth has no independent validity, if it is not\nsomething to be sought for itself, irrespective of the inclinations and\ninterests of man, then its pursuit can bring no real enrichment to our\nspiritual being.  It remains something alien and external, a mere\narbitrary appendix of the self.  It is not the essence and standard of\nhuman life.  If its sole test is what is advantageous or pleasant it\nsinks into a merely utilitarian opinion or selfish bias.  'Truth,' says\nEucken, 'can only exist as an end in itself.  Instrumental truth is no\ntruth at all.'[18]\n\nAccording to this theory, moreover, truth is apt to be broken up into a\nnumber of separate fragments without correlation or integrating unity.\nThere will be as many hypotheses as there are individual interests.  The\ntruth that seems to work best for one man or one age may not be the truth\nthat serves another.  In the collision of opinions who is to arbitrate?\nIf it be the institutions and customs of to-day, the present state of\nmorals, that is to be the measure of what is good, then we seem to be\ncommitted to a condition of stagnancy, and involved in the quest of a\ndoubtful gain.\n\nAs might be expected, Professor James's view of truth determines his view\nof the world.  It is pluralistic, not monistic; melioristic, not\noptimistic.  It is characteristic of him that when he discusses the\nquestion, Is life worth living? his answer practically is, 'Yes, if you\nbelieve it is.'  Pragmatism is put forward as the mediator between two\nopposite tendencies, those of 'tender-mindedness' and 'tough-mindedness.'\n'The tendency to rest in the Absolute is the characteristic mark of the\ntender-minded; the {116} radically tough-minded, on the other hand, needs\nno religion at all.'[19]  There is something to be said for both of these\nviews, James thinks, and a compromise will probably best meet the case.\nHence, against these two ways of accepting the universe, he maintains the\npragmatic faith which is at once theistic, pluralistic, and melioristic.\nHe accepts a personal power as a workable theory of the universe.  But\nGod need not be infinite or all-inclusive, for 'all that the facts\nrequire is that the power should be both other and larger than our common\nselves.'[20] Such a conception of God, even on James's own admission, is\nakin to polytheism.  And such polytheism implies a pluralistic view of\nthe universe.  The invisible order, in which we hope to realise our\nlarger life, is a world which does not grow integrally in accordance with\nthe preconceived plan of a single architect, 'but piecemeal by the\ncontributions of its several parts.'[21]  We make the world to our will,\nand 'add our fiat to the fiat of the creator.'  With regard to the\nsupreme question of human destiny Professor James's view is what he calls\n'melioristic.'  There is a striving for better things, but what the\nultimate outcome will be, no one can say.  For the world is still in the\nmaking.  Life is a risk.  It has many possibilities.  Good and evil are\nintermingled, and will continue so to be.  It is a pluralistic world just\nbecause the will of man is free, and predetermination is excluded.  If\ngood was assured as the final goal of ill, and there was no sense of\nventure, no possibility of loss or failure, then life would lack\ninterest, and moral effort would be shorn of reality and incentive.\n\nIn Professor James's philosophy of life there is much that is original\nand stimulating, and it draws attention to facts of experience and modes\nof thought which we were in danger of overlooking.  It has compelled us\nto consider the psychological bases of personality, and to lay more\nstress upon the power of the will and individual choice in the\ndetermining of character and destiny.  It is pre-eminently {117} a\nphilosophy of action, and it emphasises an aspect of life which\nintellectualism was prone to neglect--the function of personal endeavour\nand initiative in the making of the world.  It postulates the reality of\na living God who invites our co-operation, and it encourages our belief\nin a higher spiritual order which it is within our power to achieve.\n\nPragmatism has hitherto made headway chiefly in America and Britain, but\non its activistic side it is akin to a new philosophical movement which\nhas appeared in France and Germany.  The name generally given to this\ntendency is 'Activism' or 'Vitalism'--a title chosen probably in order to\nemphasise the self-activity of the personal consciousness directed\ntowards a world which it at once conquers and creates.  The authors of\nthis latest movement are the Frenchman, Henri Bergson, and the German,\nRudolf Eucken.  Differing widely in their methods and even in their\nconclusions, they agree in making a direct attack both upon the realism\nand the intellectualism of the past, and in their conviction that the\nworld is not a 'strung along universe,' as the late Professor James puts\nit, but a world that is being made by the creative power and personal\nfreedom of man.  While Eucken has for many years occupied a position of\ncommanding influence in the realm of thought, Bergson has only recently\ncome into notice.  The publication of his striking work, _Creative\nEvolution_, marks an epoch in speculation, and is awakening the interest\nof the philosophical world.[22]\n\n4.  With his passion for symmetry and completeness Bergson has evolved a\nwhole theory of the universe, {118} resorting, strange to say, to a form\nof reasoning that implies the validity of logic, the instrument of the\nintellect which he never wearies of impugning.  Without entering upon his\nmerely metaphysical speculations, we fix upon his theory of\nconsciousness--the relation of life to the material world--as involving\ncertain ethical consequences bearing upon our subject.  The idea of\nfreedom is the corner-stone of Bergson's system, and his whole philosophy\nis a powerful vindication of the independence and self-determination of\nthe human will.  Life is free, spontaneous, creative and incalculable;\ndetermined neither by natural law nor logical sequence.  It can break\nthrough all causation and assert its own right.  It is not, indeed,\nunrelated to matter, since it has to find its exercise in a material\nworld.  Matter plays at once, as he himself says, the role of obstacle\nand stimulus.[23]  But it is not the world of things which legislates for\nman; it is man who legislates for it.  Bergson's object is to vindicate\nthe autonomy of consciousness, and his entire philosophy is a protest\nagainst every claim of determinism to dominate life.  By introducing the\ncreative will before all development, he displaces mechanical force, and\nmakes the whole evolution of life dependent upon the 'vital impulse'\nwhich pushes forward against all obstacles to ever higher and higher\nefficiency.  Similarly, by drawing a distinction between intellect and\nintuition, he shows that the latter is the truly creative power in man\nwhich penetrates to the heart of reality and shapes its own world.\nIntellect and instinct have been developed along divergent lines.  The\nintellect has merely a practical function.  It is related to the needs of\naction.[24]  It is the faculty of manufacturing artificial objects,\nespecially tools to make tools.[25]  It deals with solids and geometrical\nfigures, and its instrument is logic.  But according to Bergson it has an\ninherent incapacity to deal with life.[26]  When we contrast the rigidity\nand superficiality of intellect with the fluidity, sympathy and intimacy\nof intuition, we see at once wherein {119} lies the true creative power\nof man.  Development, when carried too exclusively along the lines of\nintellect, means loss of will-power; and we have seen how, not\nindividuals alone, but entire nations, may be crushed and destroyed by a\ntoo rigid devotion to mechanical and stereotyped methods of thought.\nOnly life is adequate to deal with life.  Let us give free expression to\nthe intuitive and sympathetic force within us, 'feel the wild pulsation\nof life,' if we would conquer the world and come to our own.  'The\nspectacle,' says Bergson, 'of life from the very beginning down to man\nsuggests to us the image of a current of consciousness which flows down\ninto matter as into a tunnel, most of whose endeavours to advance . . .\nare stopped by a rock that is too hard, but which, in one direction at\nleast, prove successful, and break out into the light once more.'[27]\nBut there life does not stop.\n\n  'All tended to mankind,\n  But in completed man begins anew\n  A tendency to God.'[28]\n\nThis creative consciousness still pushes on, giving to matter its own\nlife, and drawing from matter its nutriment and strength.  The effort is\npainful, but in making it we feel that it is precious, more precious\nperhaps than the particular work it results in, because through it we\nhave been making ourselves, 'raising ourselves above ourselves.'  And in\nthis there is the true joy of life--the joy which every creator\nfeels--the joy of achievement and triumph.  Thus not only is the self\nbeing created, but the world is being made--original and\nincalculable--not according to a preconceived plan or logical sequence,\nbut by the free spontaneous will of man.\n\nThe soul is the creative force--the real productive agent of novelty in\nthe world.  The strange thing is that the soul creates not the world\nonly, but itself.  Whence comes this mystic power?  What is the origin of\nthe soul?  Bergson does not say.  But in one passage he suggests that\n{120} possibly the world of matter and consciousness have the same\norigin--the principle of life which is the great prius of all that is and\nis to be.  But Bergson's 'elan vital,' though more satisfactory than the\nfirst cause of the naturalist, or the 'great unknown' of the\nevolutionist, or even than some forms of the absolute, is itself\nadmittedly outside the pale of reason--inexplicable, indefinable, and\nincalculable.\n\nThe new 'vitalism' unfolds a living self-evolving universe, a restless,\nunfinished and never-to-be-finished development--the scope and goal of\nwhich cannot be foreseen or explained.  An infinite number of\npossibilities open out; which the soul will follow no one can tell; why\nit follows this direction rather than that, no one can see.  There seems\nto be no room here for teleology or purposiveness; and though Bergson has\nnot yet worked out the theological and ethical implications of his\ntheory, as far as we can at present say the personality and imminence of\na Divine Being are excluded.  Though Bergson never refers to Hegel by\nname, he seems to be specially concerned in refuting the philosophy of\nthe Absolute, according to which the world is conceived as the evolution\nof the infinite mind.  If 'tout est donne,' says Bergson, if all is given\nbeforehand, 'why do over again what has already been completed, thus\nreducing life and endeavour to a mere sham.'  But even allowing the force\nof that objection, the idea of a 'world in the making,' though it appeals\nto the popular mind, is not quite free from ambiguity.  In one sense it\nstates a platitude--a truth, indeed, which is not excluded from an\nabsolute or teleological conception of life.  But if it is implied that\nthe world, because it is in process of production, may violate reason and\ntake some capricious form, the idea is absurdly false, so long as we are\nwhat we are, and the human mind is what it is.  The real must always be\nthe rational.  All enterprise and effort are based on the faith that we\nbelong to a rational world.  Though we cannot predict what form the world\nwill ultimately take, we can at least be sure that it can assume no\ncharacter which will {121} contradict the nature of intelligence.  Even\nin the making of a world, if life has any moral worth and meaning at all,\nthere must be rational purpose.  There are creation and initiative in man\nassuredly, but they must not be interpreted as activities which deviate\ninto paths of grotesque and arbitrary fancy.  Our actions and ideas must\nissue from our world.  Even a poem or work of art must make its appeal to\nthe universal mind; any other kind of originality would wholly lack human\ninterest and sever all creation and life from their root in human nature.\nBut at least we must acknowledge that Bergson has done to the world of\nthought the great service of liberating us from the bonds of matter and\nthe thraldom of a fatalistic necessity.  It is his merit that he has\nlifted from man the burden of a hard determinism, and vindicated the\nfreedom, choice, and initiative of the human spirit.  If he has no\ndistinctly Christian message, he has at least disclosed for the soul the\npossibility of new beginnings, and has shown that there is room in the\nspiritual life, as the basis of all upward striving, for change of heart\nand conversion of life.\n\n5.  In the philosophy of Eucken there is much that is in harmony with\nthat of Bergson; but there are also important differences.  Common to\nboth is a reaction against formalism and intellectualism.  Neither claims\nthat we can gain more than 'the knowledge of a direction' in which the\nsolution of the problem may be sought.  It is not a 'given' or finished\nworld with which we have to do.  'The triumph of life is expressed by\ncreation,' says Eucken, 'I mean the creation of self by self.'  'We live\nin the conviction,' he says again, 'that the possibilities of the\nuniverse have not yet been played out,[29] but that our spiritual life\nstill finds itself battling in mid-flood with much of the world's work\nstill before us.'  While Bergson confines himself rigidly to the\nmetaphysical side of thought, Eucken is chiefly interested in the ethical\nand religious aspects of life's problem.  Moreover, while there is an\nabsence of a distinctly teleological aim in Bergson, the purpose and\nideal {122} of life are prominent elements in Eucken.  Notwithstanding\nhis antagonism to intellectualism, the influence of Hegel is evident in\nthe absolutist tendency of his teaching.  Life for Eucken is\nfundamentally spiritual.  Self-consciousness is the unifying principle.\nPersonality is the keynote of his philosophy.  But we are not\npersonalities to begin with: we have the potentiality to become such by\nour own effort.  He bids us therefore forget ourselves, and strive for\nour highest ideal--the realisation of spiritual personality.  The more\nman 'loses his life' in the pursuit of the ideals of truth, goodness, and\nbeauty the more surely will he 'save it.'  He realises himself as a\npersonality, who becomes conscious of his unity with the universal\nspiritual life.\n\nHence there are two fundamental principles underlying Eucken's philosophy\nwhich give to it its distinguishing character.  The first is the\nmetaphysical conception of _a realm of Spirit_--an independent spiritual\nReality, not the product of the natural man, but communicating itself to\nhim as he strives for, and responds to, it.  This spiritual reality\nunderlies and transcends the outward world.  It may be regarded as an\nabsolute or universal life--the deeper reality of which all visible\nthings are the expression.  The second cardinal principle is the\n_doctrine of Activism_.  Life is action.  Human duty lies in a world of\nstrife.  We have to contend for a spiritual life-content.  Here Eucken\nhas much in common with Fichte.[30]  But while Fichte starts with\nself-analysis, and loses sight of error, care, and sin, Eucken starts\nwith actual conflict, and ever retains a keen sense of these hampering\nelements.  The evil of the world is not to be solved simply by looking\ndown upon the world from some superior optimistic standpoint, and\npronouncing it very good.  The only way to solve it is the practical one,\nto leave the negative standing, and press on to the deeper\naffirmative--the positive truth, that beneath the world of nature there\nexists a deeper reality of spirit, of which we become participators by\nthe freedom and activity of our lives.  We are here to acquire a new\nspiritual world, but {123} it is a world in which the past is taken up\nand transfigured.  Against naturalism, which acquiesces in the present\norder of the universe, and against mere intellectualism, which simply\ninvestigates it, Eucken never wearies of protesting.  He demands, first,\na fundamental cleavage in the inmost being of man, and a deliverance from\nthe natural view of things; and he contends, secondly, for a spiritual\nawakening and an energetic endeavour to realise our spiritual resources.\nNot by thought but by action is the problem of life to be solved.  Hence\nhis philosophy is not a mere theory about life, but is itself a factor in\nthe great work of spiritual redemption which gives to life its meaning\nand aim.\n\nThat which makes Eucken's positive idealism specially valuable is his\napplication of it to religion.  Religion has been in all ages the mighty\nuplifting power in human life.  It stands for a negation of the finite\nand fleeting, and an affirmation of the spiritual and the eternal.  This\nis specially true of the Christian religion.  Christianity is the supreme\ntype of religion because it best answers the question, 'What can religion\ndo for life?'  But the old forms of its manifestation do not satisfy us\nto-day.  Christianity of the present fails to win conviction principally\nfor three reasons: (1) because it does not distinguish the eternal\nsubstance of religion from its temporary forms; (2) because it professes\nto be the final expression of all truth, thus closing the door against\nprogress of thought and life; and (3) while emphasising man's redemption\nfrom evil, it forgets the elevation of his nature towards good.  There is\na tendency to depreciate human nature, and to overlook the joyousness of\nlife.  What is needed, therefore, is the expression of Christianity in a\nnew form--a reconstruction which shall emphasise the positiveness,\nactivity, and joy of Christian morality.[31]\n\nWhile every one must feel the sublimity and inspiration in this\nconception of a spiritual world, which it is the task of life to realise,\nmost people will be also conscious of a {124} certain vagueness and\nelusiveness in its presentation.  We are constrained to ask what is this\nindependent spiritual life?  Is it a personal God, or is it only an\nimpersonal spirit, which pervades and interpenetrates the universe?  The\nelusive obscurity of the position and function which Eucken assigns to\nhis central conception of the _Geistes-Leben_ must strike every reader.\nEven more than Hegel, Eucken seems to deal with an abstraction.  The\nspiritual life, we are told, 'grows,' 'divides,' 'advances'--but it\nappears to be as much a 'bloodless category' as the Hegelian 'idea,'\nhaving no connection with any living subject.  God, the Spirit, may\nexist, indeed Eucken says He does, but there is nowhere any indication of\nhow the spiritual life follows from, or is the creation of, the Divine\nSpirit.  Our author speaks with so great appreciation of Christianity\nthat it seems an ungracious thing to find fault with his interpretation\nof it.  Yet with so much that is positive and suggestive, there are also\nsome grave omissions.  In a work that professes to deal with the\nChristian faith--_The Truth of Religion_--and which indeed presents a\npowerful vindication of historical Christianity, we miss any\nphilosophical interpretation of the nature and power of prayer,\nadoration, or worship, or any account, indeed, of the intimacies of the\nsoul which belong to the very essence of the Christian faith.  While he\ninsists upon the possibility, nay, the necessity, of a new beginning, he\nfails to reveal the power by which the great decision is made.  While he\naffirms with much enthusiasm and frankness the need of personal decision\nand surrender, he has nothing to say of the divine authority and power\nwhich creates our choice and wins our obedience.  Nowhere does he show\nthat the creative redemptive force comes not from man's side, but\nultimately from the side of God.  And finally, his teaching with regard\nto the person and work of Jesus Christ, notwithstanding its tender\nsympathy and fine discrimination, does less than justice to the\nuniqueness and historical significance of the Son of Man.  With profound\nappreciation and rare beauty of language he depicts the life of Jesus.\n'Seldom,' {125} says a recent writer, 'has the perfect Man been limned\nwith so persuasive a combination of strenuous thought and gracious\nword.'[32] 'He who makes merely a normal man of Jesus,' he says, 'can\nnever do justice to His greatness.'[33]  Yet while he protests rightly\nagainst emptying our Lord's life of all real growth and temptation, and\nthe claim of practical omniscience for His humanity (conceptions of\nChrist's Person surely nowhere entertained by first-class theologians),\nhe leaves us in no manner of doubt that he does not attach a divine worth\nto Jesus, nor regard Him in the scriptural sense as the Supreme\nrevelation and incarnation of God.  And hence, while the peerless\nposition of Jesus as teacher and religious genius is frankly\nacknowledged, and His purity, power, and permanence are extolled--the\nmediatorial and redemptive implicates of His personality are overlooked.\n\nBut when all is said, no one can study the spiritual philosophy of Eucken\nwithout realising that he is in contact with a mind which has a sublime\nand inspiring message for our age.  Probably more than any modern\nthinker, Eucken reveals in his works deep affinities with the central\nspirit of Christianity.  And perhaps his influence may be all the greater\nbecause he maintains an attitude of independence towards dogmatic and\norganised Christianity.  Professor Eucken does not attempt to satisfy us\nwith a facile optimism.  Life is a conflict, a task, an adventure.  And\nhe who would engage in it must make the break between the higher and the\nlower nature.  For Eucken, as for Dante, there must be 'the penitence,\nthe tears, and the plunge into the river of Lethe before the new\ntranscendent love begins.'  There is no evasion of the complexities of\nlife.  He has a profound perception of the contradictions of experience\nand the seeming paradoxes of religion.  For him true liberty is only\npossible through the 'given,' through God's provenience and grace:\ngenuine self-realisation is only achievable through a continuous\nself-dedication to, and {126} incorporation within, the great realm of\nspirits; and the Immanence within our lives of the Transcendent.[34]\n\nIn styling the tendencies which we have thus briefly reviewed\nnon-Christian, we have had no intention of disparagement.  No earnest\neffort to discover truth, though it may be inadequate and partial, is\never wholly false.  In the light of these theories we are able to see\nmore clearly the relation between the good and the useful, and to\nacknowledge that, just as in nature the laws of economy and beauty have\nmany intimate correspondences, so in the spiritual realm the good, the\nbeautiful, and the true may be harmonised in a higher category of the\nspirit.  We shall see that the Christian ideal is not so much\nantagonistic to, as inclusive of, all that is best in the teaching of\nscience and philosophy.  The task therefore now before us is to interpret\nthese general conceptions of the highest good in the light of Christian\nRevelation--to define the chief end of life according to Christianity.\n\n\n\n[1] Kasper Schmidt, _Der Einzige und sein Eigentum_.\n\n[2] Haeckel, _op. cit._, chap. xix.\n\n[3] Haeckel, _op. cit._, chap. xix. p. 140.\n\n[4] Hobbes' _Leviathan_, chap. vi.\n\n[5] Cf. Pringle-Pattison, _Philos. Radicals_, and J. Seth's _Eng.\nPhilosophers_, p. 240.\n\n[6] _Utilitarianism_, chap. ii.\n\n[7] _Idem_, chap. iii.\n\n[8] Cf. Spencer, _Data of Ethics_, p. 275; also _Social Statics_.  In the\nformer work an attempt is made to exhibit the biological significance of\npleasure and the relation between egoism and altruism.\n\n[9] See _First Principles_, p. 166 ff.\n\n[10] See Kirkup, _An Inquiry into Socialism_, p. 19.\n\n[11] See Luetgert, _Natur und Geist Gottes_, for striking chapter on\nGoethe's _Ethik_, p. 121 f.\n\n[12] Cf. Eucken, _Main Currents of Modern Thought_, p. 401 f.\n\n[13] Macmillan, _The Crowning Phase of the Critical Philosophy_, p. 28.\n\n[14] Hegel, _Phil. of Right_, p. 45.\n\n[15] Bosanquet, _The Principles of Individuality and Value_.\n\n[16] Bosanquet, _The Principles of Individuality and Value_.\n\n[17] _Pragmatism_, p. 51.\n\n[18] _Main Currents of Thought_, p. 78.\n\n[19] _Pragmatism_, p. 278 f.; also _Varieties of Relig. Experience_, p.\n525 f.\n\n[20] _Idem_, p. 299.\n\n[21] _Idem_, p. 290.\n\n[22] The writer regrets that the work of the Italian, Benedetto Croce,\n_Philosophy of the Practical, Economic and Ethic_ (Part II. of\n_Philosophy of the Spirit_), came to his knowledge too late to permit a\nconsideration of its ethical teaching in this volume.  Croce is a thinker\nof great originality, of whom we are likely to hear much in the future,\nand whose philosophy will have to be reckoned with.  Though independent\nof others, his view of life has affinities with that of Hegel.  He\nmaintains the doctrine of development of opposites, but avoids Hegel's\ninsistence upon the concept of nature as a mode of reality opposed to the\nspirit.  Spirit is reality, the whole reality, and therefore the\nuniversal.  It has two activities, theoretic and practical.  With the\ntheoretic man understands the universe; with the practical he changes it.\nThe Will is the man, and freedom is finding himself in the Whole.\n\n[23] _Hibbert Journal_, April 1912.\n\n[24] _Evol. Creat._, p. 161.\n\n[25] _Idem_, p. 146.\n\n[26] _Idem_, p. 165.\n\n[27] _Hibbert Journal_.\n\n[28] Browning.\n\n[29] _Die Geistigen Stroemunyen der Gegenwart_, p. 10.\n\n[30] Cf. _Problem of Life_.\n\n[31] Cf. _Life's Basis and Life's Ideal_.\n\n[32] Hermann, _Bergson und Eucken_, p. 103.\n\n[33] _The Problem of Life_, p. 152.\n\n[34] Cf. von Huegel, _Hibbert Journal_, April 1912.\n\n\n\n\n{127}\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nTHE CHRISTIAN IDEAL\n\nThe highest good is not uniformly described in the New Testament, and\nmodern ethical teachers have not always been in agreement as to the chief\nend of life.  While some have found in the teaching of Jesus the idea of\nsocial redemption alone, and have seen in Christ nothing more than a\npolitical reformer, others have contended that the Gospel is solely a\nmessage of personal salvation.  An impartial study shows that both views\nare one-sided.  On the one hand, no conception of the life of Jesus can\nbe more misleading than that which represents Him as a political\nrevolutionist.  But, on the other hand, it would be a distinct narrowing\nof His teaching to assume that it was confined to the aspirations of the\nindividual soul.  His care was indeed primarily for the person.  His\nemphasis was put upon the worth of the individual.  And it is not too\nmuch to say that the uniqueness of Jesus' teaching lay in the discovery\nof the value of the soul.  There was in His ministry a new appreciation\nof the possibilities of neglected lives, and a hitherto unknown yearning\nto share their confidence.  It would be a mistake, however, to represent\nChrist's regard for the individual as excluding all consideration of\nsocial relations.  The kingdom of God, as we shall see, had a social and\ncorporate meaning for our Lord.  And if the qualifications for its\nentrance were personal, its duties were social.  The universalism of\nJesus' teaching implied that the soul had a value not for itself alone,\nbut also for others.  The assertion, therefore, that the individual has a\nvalue cannot mean that he has a value in isolation.  {128} Rather his\nvalue can only be realised in the life of the community to which he truly\nbelongs.  The effort to help others is the truest way to reveal the\nhidden worth of one's own life; and he who withholds his sympathy from\nthe needy has proved himself unworthy of the kingdom.\n\nWhile the writers of the New Testament vary in their mode of presenting\nthe ultimate goal of man, they are at one in regarding it as an exalted\nform of _life_.  What they all seek to commend is a condition of being\ninvolving a gradual assimilation to, and communion with, God.  The\ndistinctive gift of the Gospel is the gift of life.  'I am the Life,'\nsays Christ.  And the apostle's confession is in harmony with his\nMaster's claim--'For me to live is Christ.'  Salvation is nothing else\nthan the restoration, preservation, and exaltation of life.\n\nCorresponding, therefore, to the three great conceptions of Life in the\nNew Testament, and especially in the teaching of Jesus--'Eternal Life,'\n'the kingdom of God,' and the perfection of the divine Fatherhood,\n'Perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect'--there are three aspects,\nindividual, social, and divine, in which we may view the Christian ideal.\n\n\nI\n\nSelf-realisation is not, indeed, a scriptural word.  But rightly\nunderstood it is a true element in the conception of life, and may, we\nthink, be legitimately drawn from the ethical teaching of the New\nTestament.[1]  Though the free full development of the individual\npersonality as we conceive it in modern times does not receive explicit\nstatement,[2] still one cannot doubt, that before every man our Lord does\npresent the vision of a possible and perfect self.  Christianity does not\ndestroy 'the will to live,' but only the will to live at all costs.  Even\nmediaeval piety only inculcated self-mortification as a stage towards a\nhigher {129} self-affirmation.  Christ nowhere condemns the inherent\ndesire for a complete life.  The end, indeed, which each man should place\nbefore himself is self-mastery and freedom from the world;[3] but it is a\nmastery and freedom which are to be gained not by asceticism but by\nconquest.  Christ would awaken in every man the consciousness of the\npriceless worth of his soul, and would have him realise in his own person\nGod's idea of manhood.\n\nThe ideal of self-realisation includes three distinct elements:\n\n1.  _Life as intensity of being_.--'I am come that they might have life,\nand that they might have it more abundantly.'[4]  'More life and fuller'\nis the passion of every soul that has caught the vision and heard the\ncall of Jesus.  The supreme good consists not in suppressed vitality, but\nin power and freedom.  Life in Christ is a full, rich existence.  The\ndoctrine of quietism and indifference to joy has no place in the ethic of\nJesus.  Life is manifested in inwardness of character, and not in pomp of\ncircumstance.  It consists not in what a man has, but in what he is.[5]\nThe beatitudes, as the primary qualifications for the kingdom of God,\nemphasise the fundamental principle of the subordination of the material\nto the spiritual, and the contrast between inward and outward good.[6]\nSelf-mastery is to extend to the inner life of man--to dominate the\nthoughts and words, and the very heart from which they issue.  A divided\nlife is impossible.  The severest discipline, even renunciation, may be\nneedful to secure that singleness of heart and strenuousness of aim which\nare for Jesus the very essence of life.  'Ye cannot serve God and\nmammon.'[7]  In harmony with this saying is the opposition in the\nJohannine teaching between 'the world' and 'eternal life.'[8]  The\nquality of life indeed depends not upon anything contingent or\naccidental, but upon an intense inward realisation of blessedness in\nChrist in comparison with which even {130} the privations and sufferings\nof this world are but as a shadow.[9]  At the same time life is not a\nmere negation, not simply an escape from evil.  It is a positive good,\nthe enrichment and intensifying of the whole being by the indwelling of a\nnew spiritual power.  'For me to live is Christ,' says St. Paul.  'This\nis life eternal,' says St. John, 'that they may know Thee the only true\nGod, and Him whom Thou didst send, even Jesus Christ.'[10]\n\n2.  _Life as Expansion of Personality_.--By its inherent power it grows\noutwards as well as inwards.  The New Testament conception of life is\nexistence in its fullest expression and fruitfulness.  The ideal as\npresented by Christ is no anaemic state of reverie or ascetic withdrawal\nfrom human interest.  It is by the elevation and consecration of the\nnatural life, and not by its suppression, that the 'good' is to be\nrealised.  The natural life is to be transformed, and the very body\npresented unto God as a living sacrifice.[11]  So far from Christianity\nbeing opposed to the aim of the individual to find himself in a world of\nlarger interests, it is only in the active and progressive realisation of\nsuch a life that blessedness consists.  Herein is disclosed, however, the\ndefect of the modern ideal of culture which has been associated with the\nname of Goethe.  In Christ's ideal self-sufficiency has no place.  While\nrightly interpreted the 'good' of life includes everything that enriches\nexistence and contributes to the efficiency and completeness of manhood,\nmere self-culture and artistic expression are apt to become perverted\nforms of egoism, if not subordinated to the spirit of service which alone\ncan give to the human faculties their true function and exercise.  Hence\nlife finds its real utterance not in the isolated development of the\nself, but in the fullness of personal relationships.  Only in response to\nthe needs of others can a man realise his own life.  In answer to the\nyoung ruler who asked a question 'concerning that which is good,' Christ\nreplied, 'If thou wilt enter into life keep the {131} commandments'; and\nthe particular duties He mentioned were those of the second table of the\nDecalogue.[11]  The abundance of life which Christ offers consists in the\nmutual offices of love and the interchange of service.  Thus\nself-realisation is attained only through self-surrender.[13]  The\nself-centred life is a barren life.  Not by withholding our seed but by\nflinging it forth freely upon the broad waters of humanity do we attain\nto that rich fruition which is 'life indeed.'\n\n3.  _Life as Eternal Good_.--Whatever may be the accurate signification\nof the word 'eternal,' the words 'eternal life,' regarded as the ideal of\nman, can mean nothing else than life at its highest, the fulfilment of\nall that personality has within it the potency of becoming.  In one sense\nthere is no finality in life.  'It seethes with the morrow for us more\nand more.'  But in another sense, to say that the moral life is never\nattained is only a half truth.  It is always being attained because it is\nalways present as an active reality evolving its own content.  In Christ\nwe have 'eternal life' now.  It is not a thing of quantity but of\nquality, and is therefore timeless.\n\n  'We live in deeds not years, in thoughts not breaths,\n  In feelings, not in figures on a dial.'[14]\n\nHe who has entered into fellowship with God has within him now the\nessence of 'life eternal.'\n\nBut the conception of life derived from, and sustained by, God involves\nthe idea of immortality.  'No work begun shall ever pause for death.'[15]\nTo live in God is to live as long as God.  The spiritual man pursues his\nway through conflict and achievement towards a higher and yet a higher\ngoal, ever manifesting, yet ever seeking, the infinite that dwells in\nhim.  All knowledge and quest and endeavour, nay existence itself, would\nbe a mockery if man had 'no forever.' Scripture corroborates the\nyearnings of the heart and represents life as a growing good which is to\nattain to ever higher reaches and fuller realisations in the world to\n{132} come.  It is the unextinguishable faith of man that the future must\ncrown the present.  No human effort goes to waste, no gift is delusive;\nbut every gift and every effort has its proper place as a stage in the\nendless process.[16]\n\n  'There shall never be lost one good!  What was shall live as\n      before.'[17]\n\n\nII\n\nThe foregoing discussion leads naturally to the second aspect of the\nhighest Good, the Ideal in its social or corporate form--_the kingdom of\nGod_.  Properly speaking, there is no such thing as an individual.  As\nbiologically man is only a member of a larger organism, so ethically he\ncan only realise himself in a life of brotherhood and service.  It is\nonly within the kingdom of God and by recognition of its social relations\nthat the individual can attain to his own blessedness.  Viewed in the\nlight of the mutual relation of its members the kingdom is a brotherhood\nin which none is ignored and all have common privileges and\nresponsibilities; viewed in the light of its highest good it is the\nentire perfection of the whole--a hierarchy of interests subordinated to,\nand unified by, the sovereignty of the good in the person of God.[18]\n\n1.  By reason of its comprehensiveness the doctrine of the kingdom has\nbeen regarded by many as the most general conception of the ideal of\nJesus.  'In its unique and unapproachable grandeur it dwarfs all the\nlesser heights to which the prophetic hopes had risen, and remains to\nthis day the transcendent and commanding ideal of the possible exaltation\nof our humanity.'[19]  The principles implicitly contained in the\nteaching of Jesus concerning the kingdom have become the common\npossessions of mankind, and are moulding the thoughts and institutions of\nthe civilised world.  Kant's theory of a kingdom of ends, Comte's idea of\nHumanity, and the modern conceptions of scientific and {133} historical\nevolution are corroborative of the teaching of the New Testament.  Within\nits conception men have found room for the modern ideas of social and\neconomic order, and under its inspiration are striving for a fuller\nrealisation of the aspirations and hopes of humanity.[20]\n\nThough frequently upon His lips the phrase did not originate with Jesus.\nAlready the Baptist had employed it as the note of his preaching, and\neven before the Baptist it had a long history in the annals of the Jewish\npeople.  Indeed the entire story of the Hebrews is coloured by this\nconception, and in the days of their decline it is the idea of the\nrestoration of their nation as the true kingdom of God that dominates\ntheir hopes.  When earthly institutions did not fulfil their promise, and\nnothing could be expected by natural means, hope became concentrated upon\nsupernatural power.  Thus before Jesus appeared there had grown up a mass\nof apocalyptic literature, the object of which was to encourage the\nnational expectation of a sudden and supernatural coming of the kingdom\nof heaven.  Men of themselves could do nothing to hasten its advent.\nThey could only wait patiently till the set time was accomplished, and\nGod stretched forth His mighty hand.[21]\n\nA new school of German interpretation has recently arisen, the aim of\nwhich is to prove that Jesus was largely, if not wholly, influenced by\nthe current apocalyptic notions of His time.  Jesus believed, it is said,\nin common with the popular sentiment of the day, that the end of the\nworld was at hand, and that at the close of the present dispensation\nthere would come suddenly and miraculously a new order into which would\nbe gathered the elect of God.  Johannes Weiss, the most pronounced\nadvocate of this view, maintains that Jesus' teaching is entirely\neschatological.  The kingdom is supramundane and still to come.  Jesus\ndid not inaugurate it; He only predicted its advent.  Consequently there\nis no Ethics, strictly so called, in His {134} preaching; there is only\nan Ethic of renunciation and watchfulness[22]--an _Interimsethik_.\n\nThe whole problem resolves itself into two crucial questions: (1) Did\nJesus expect a gradual coming of the kingdom, or did He conceive of it as\nbreaking in suddenly by the immediate act of God? and (2) Did Jesus\nregard the kingdom as purely future, or as already begun?\n\nIn answer to the first question, while there are undoubtedly numerous and\nexplicit sayings, too much neglected in the past and not to be wholly\nexplained by mere orientalism, suggesting a sudden and miraculous coming,\nthese must be taken in connection with the many other passages implying a\ngradual process--passages of deep ethical import which seem to colour our\nLord's entire view of life and its purposes.  And in answer to the second\nquestion, while there are not a few utterances which certainly point to a\nfuture consummation, these are not inconsistent with the immediate\ninauguration and gradual development of the kingdom.\n\nA full discussion of this subject is beyond the scope of this volume.[23]\nThere are, however, two objections which may be taken to the apocalyptic\ninterpretation of Christ's teaching as a whole.  (1) As presented by its\nmost pronounced champions, this view seems to empty the person and\nteaching of Jesus of their originality and universality.  It tends to\nreduce the Son of Man to the level of a Jewish rhapsodist, whose whole\nfunction was to encourage His countrymen to look away from the present\nscene of duty to some future state of felicity, which had no connection\nwith the world of reality, and no bearing upon their present character.\nIt would be surely a caricature to interpret the religion of the New\nTestament from this standpoint alone to the exclusion of those directly\nethical and spiritual {135} principles in which its originality chiefly\nappeared, and on which its permanence depends.[24]  As Bousset[25] points\nout, not renunciation but joy in life is the characteristic thing in\nJesus' outlook.  He does not preach a gloomy asceticism, but proclaims a\nnew righteousness and a new type of duty.  He recognises the worth of the\npresent life, and teaches that the world's goods are not in themselves\nbad.  He came as a living man into a dead world, and by inculcating a\nliving idea of God and proclaiming the divine Fatherhood gave a new\ndirection and inner elevation to the expectations of His age, showing the\ntrue design of God's revelation and the real meaning of the prophetic\nutterances of the past.  To interpret the kingdom wholly from an\neschatological point of view would involve a failure to apprehend the\nspiritual greatness of the personality with which we are dealing.[26]\n(2) This view virtually makes Christ a false prophet.  For, as a matter\nof fact, the sudden and catastrophic coming of the kingdom as predicted\nby the Hebrew apocalyptics did not take place.  On the contrary the\nkingdom of God came not as the Jews expected in a sudden descent from the\nclouds, but in the slow and progressive domination of God over the souls\nand social relationships of mankind.  In view of the whole spirit of\nJesus, His conception of God, and His relation to human life, as well as\nthe attitude of St. Paul to the Parousia, it is critically unsound to\ndeny that Jesus believed in the presence of the kingdom in a real sense\nduring His lifetime.[27]\n\n2.  If this conception of the kingdom of God be correct we may now\nproceed to regard it under three aspects, Present, Progressive, and\nFuture--as a _Gift_ immediately bestowed by Jesus, as a _Task_ to be\nworked out by man in the history of the world, and as a _Hope_ to be\nconsummated by God in the future.\n\n{136}\n\n(1) _The Kingdom as a Present Reality_.--After what has been already said\nit will not be necessary to dwell upon this aspect.  It might be\nsupported by direct sayings of our Lord.[28]  But the whole tenor and\natmosphere of the Gospels, the uniqueness of Christ's personality, His\nclaim to heal disease and forgive sin, as well as the conditions of\nentrance, imply clearly that in Jesus' own view the kingdom was an actual\nfact inaugurated by Him and obtaining its meaning and power from His own\nperson and influence.  Obviously He regarded Himself as the bearer of a\nnew message of life, and the originator of a new reign of righteousness\nand love which was to have immediate application.  Christ came to make\nGod real to men upon the earth, and to win their allegiance to Him at\nonce.  No one can fail to recognise the lofty idealism of the Son of Man.\nHe carries with Him everywhere a vision of the perfect life as it exists\nin the mind of God, and as it will be realised when these earthly scenes\nhave passed away; yet it would be truer to say that His interests were in\n'first things' rather than in 'last things,' and would be more justly\ndesignated Protology than Eschatology.[29]  His mission, so far from\nhaving an iconoclastic aim, was really to 'make all things new.'  He was\nconcerned with the initiation of a new religion, therefore with a\nmovement towards a regeneration of society which would be virtually a\nreign of God in the hearts of men.  'The kingdom of God is within you.'\nNot in some spot remote from the world, some beautiful land beyond the\nskies, but in the hearts and homes, in the daily pursuits and common\nrelationships of life must God rule.  The beatitudes, while they\nundoubtedly refer to a future when a fuller realisation of them will be\nenjoyed, have a present reference as well.  They make the promise of the\nkingdom a present reality dependent upon the inner state of the\nrecipients.  Not in change of environment but in change {137} of heart\ndoes the kingdom consist.  The lowly and the pure in heart, the merciful\nand the meek, the seekers after righteousness and the lovers of peace\nare, in virtue of their disposition and aspiration, already members.\n\n(2) The kingdom as a _gradual development_.--The inward gift prescribes\nthe outward task.  It is a power commanding the hearts of men and\nrequiring for its realisation their response.  It might be argued that\nthis call to moral effort presented to the first Christians was not a\nsummons to transform the present world, but to prepare themselves for the\ndestiny that awaited them in the coming age.[30]  It is true that\nwatchfulness, patience, and readiness are among the great commands of the\nNew Testament.[31]  But admitting the importance of these requirements,\nthey do not militate against the view that Christians were to work for\nthe betterment of the world.  Christ did not look upon the world as\nhopeless and beyond all power of reclaiming; nor did He regard His own or\nHis disciples' ministry within it as without real and positive effects.\nWhile His contemporaries were expecting some mighty intervention that\nwould suddenly bring the kingdom ready-made from heaven, He saw it\ngrowing up silently and secretly among men.  He took his illustrations\nfrom organic life.  Its progress was to be like the seed hidden in the\nearth, and growing day and night by its own inherent germinating force.\nThe object of the parables of the sower, the tares, the mustard seed, the\nleaven, was to show that the crude catastrophic conception of the coming\nof the kingdom must give place to the deeper and worthier idea of\ngrowth--an idea in harmony with the entire economy of God's working in\nthe world of nature.  In the parable of the fruit-bearing earth Jesus\nshows His faith in the growth of the good, and hence in the adaptation of\nthe truth to the human soul.  In the parables of the leaven, the light,\nand salt Jesus illustrates the gradual power of truth to pervade,\nillumine, and purify the life of humanity.  His method of bringing about\nthis {138} good is the contagion of the good life.  His motive is the\nsense of the need of men.  And His goal is the establishment of the\nkingdom of love--a kingdom in which all the problems of ambition, wealth,\nand the relationships of the family, of the industrial sphere, and of the\nstate, are to be transfigured and spiritualised.[32]\n\nIt is surely no illegitimate application of the mind of Christ if we see\nin His teaching concerning the kingdom a great social ideal to be\nrealised by the personal activities and mutual services of its citizens.\nIt finds its field and opportunity in the realm of human society, and is\na good to be secured in the larger life of humanity.  This ideal, though\nonly dimly perceived by the early Church, has become gradually operative\nin the world, and has been creative of all the great liberating movements\nin history.  It lay behind Dante's vision of a spiritual monarchy, and\nhas been the inspiring motive of those who, in obedience to Christ, have\nwrought for the uplifting of the hapless and the down-trodden.  It has\nbeen the soul of all mighty reformations, and is the source of that\nconception of a new social order which has begun to mean so much for our\ngeneration.\n\nLoyalty to the highest and love for the lowest--love to God and\nman--these are the marks of the men of all ages who have sought to\ninterpret the mind of Christ.  Mutual service is the law of the kingdom.\nEvery man has a worth for Christ, therefore reverence for the personality\nof man, and the endeavour to procure for each full opportunity of making\nthe most of his life, are at once the aim and goal of the new spiritual\nsociety of which Christ laid the foundations in His own life and\nministry.  Everything that a man is and has, talents and possessions of\nevery kind, are to be used as instruments for the promotion of the\nkingdom of God.\n\n  'For life, with all it yields of joy and woe,\n  And hope and fear . . .\n  Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love.'\n\n{139}\n\n(3) But though the reign of God has begun, it has _yet to be\nconsummated_.--There is not wanting in the New Testament an element of\nfuturity and expectancy not inconsistent with, but rather complementary\nto, the notion of gradual development.  The eschatological teaching of\nJesus has its place along with the ethical, and may be regarded not as\nannulling, but rather reinforcing the moral ideals which He\nproclaimed.[33]  There is nothing pessimistic in Christ's outlook.  His\nteaching concerning the last things, while inculcating solemnity and\nearnestness of life as become those to whom has been entrusted a high\ndestiny, and who know not at what hour they may be called to give an\naccount of their stewardship,[34] bids men look forward with certainty\nand hope to a glorious consummation of the kingdom.  Though many of our\nLord's sayings with regard to His second coming are couched in figurative\nlanguage, we cannot believe that He intended to teach that the kingdom\nitself was to be brought about in a spectacular or material way.  He bids\nHis disciples take heed lest they be deceived by a visible Christ, or led\naway by merely outward signs.[35]  His coming is to be as 'the lightning\nwhich cometh out of the east and shineth even unto the west'[36]--an\nemblem not so much of suddenness as of illuminating and convincing, and\nespecially, of progressive force.  Not in a visible reign or personal\nreturn of the Son of Man does the consummation of the kingdom consist,\nbut in the complete spiritual sovereignty of Christ over the hearts and\nminds of men.  When the same love which He Himself manifested in His life\nbecomes the feature of His disciples; when His spirit of service and\nsacrifice pervades the world, and the brotherhood of man and the\nfederation of nations everywhere prevail; then, indeed, shall the sign of\nthe Son of Man appear in the heavens, and then shall the tribes of {140}\nthe earth see Him coming in the clouds with power and glory.[37]\n\nJesus does not hesitate to say that there will be a final judgment and an\ningathering of the elect from all quarters of the earth.[38]  There will\nbe, as the parable of the Ten Virgins suggests, a division and a shut\ndoor.[39]  But punishment will be automatic.  Sin will bring its own\nconsequences.  Those only will be excluded at the last who even now are\nexcluding themselves.  For Christ is already here, and is judging the\nworld every day.  By the common actions of their present life men are\nbeing tried; and that which will determine their final relation to Christ\nwill not be their mere perception of His bodily presence, but their moral\nand spiritual likeness to Him.\n\nAmidst the imperfections of the present men have ever looked forward to\nsome glorious consummation, and have lived and worked in the faith of it.\n'To the prophets of Israel it was the new age of righteousness; to the\nGreek thinkers the world of pure intelligible forms; to Augustine and\nDante the holy theocratic state; to the practical thought of our own time\nthe renovated social order.  Each successive age will frame its own\nvision of the great fulfilment; but all the different ideals can find\ntheir place in the message of the kingdom which was proclaimed by\nJesus.'[40]\n\nThere is thus opened to our vision a splendid conception of the future of\nhumanity.  It stands for all that is highest in our expectations because\nit is already expressive of all that is best in our present achievements\nand endeavours.  The final hope of mankind requires for its fulfilment a\nprogressive moral discipline.  Only as Christ's twofold command--love to\nGod and love to man--is made the all-pervasive rule of men's lives will\nthe goal of a universally perfected humanity be attained.\n\n{141}\n\nIII\n\nThe chief good may be regarded finally in its _divine_ aspect--as the\nendeavour after God-likeness.  In this third form of the ideal the two\nothers--the personal and the social--are harmonised and completed.  To\nrealise the perfect life as it is revealed in the character and will of\nGod is the supreme aim of man, and it embraces all that is conceivably\nhighest for the individual and for humanity as a whole.  This aspiration\nfinds its most explicit expression in the sublime word of Christ--'Be ye\nperfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect.'[41] This commandment,\nunlike so many generalisations of duty, is no cold abstraction.  It is\npervaded with the warmth of personality and the inspiration of love.  In\nthe idea of Fatherhood both a standard and motive are implied.  Because\nGod is our Father it is at once natural and possible for us to be like\nHim.  He who would imitate another must have already within him something\nof that other.  As there is a community of nature which makes it possible\nfor the child to grow into the likeness of its parent, so there is a\nkinship in man with God to which our Lord here appeals.\n\n1.  Among the ethical qualities of divine perfection set forth in\nscripture for man's imitation _Holiness_ stands preeminent.  God, the\nperfect being, is the type of holiness, and men are holy in proportion as\ntheir lives are Godlike.  This conception of holiness is fundamental in\nthe Old Testament.  It is summed up in a command almost identical with\nthat of our Lord: 'Be ye holy, for I am holy.'[42]  Holiness, as\nChristianity understands it, is the name for the undimmed lustre of God's\nethical perfection.  God is 'the Holy one'--the alone 'good' in the\nabsolute sense.[43]\n\nIf God's character consists in 'Holiness,' then that quality determines\nthe moral end of man.  But holiness, as the most comprehensive name for\nthe divine moral perfection--the pure white light of God's Being--breaks\nup into the {142} separate rays which we designate the special moral\nattributes.  These have been grouped under 'Righteousness' (truth,\nfaithfulness, justice, zeal, etc.), and 'Love' (goodness, pity, mercy,\netc.), though they are really but expressions of one individual life.[44]\n\n2.  In the New Testament _Righteousness_ is almost equivalent to\nholiness.  It is the attribute of God which determines the nature of His\nkingdom and the condition of man's entrance into it.  As comprising\nobedience to the will of God and the fulfilment of the moral law, it is\nthe basal and central conception of the Christian ideal.[45]  It is the\nkeynote of the Pauline Epistles.  Life has a supreme sacredness for Paul\nbecause the righteousness of God is its end.  While righteousness is the\ndistinctive note of the Pauline conception, it is also fundamental in the\nEthics of Jesus.  It is the ruling thought in the Sermon on the Mount.\nTo be righteous for Jesus simply means to be right and true--to be as one\nought to be.  But human standards are insufficient.  A man must order his\nlife by the divine standard.  Jesus is as emphatic as any Old Testament\nprophet in insisting upon the need of absolute righteousness.  That, for\nall who would share in the kingdom of the good, is to be their ideal--the\nobject of their hunger and thirst.  It is a 'good' which is essential to\nthe very satisfaction and blessedness of the soul.[46]  It is the supreme\ndesire of the man who would be at peace with God.  It involves poverty of\nspirit, for only those who are emptied of self are conscious of their\nneed.  They who, in humility and meekness, acknowledge their sins, are in\nthe way of holiness and are already partakers of the divine nature.\n\nChrist's teaching in regard to righteousness has both a negative and a\npositive aspect.  It was inevitable that He should begin with a criticism\nof the morality inculcated by the leaders of His day.  The characteristic\nfeature of Pharisaism was, as Christ shows, its _externalism_.  If a man\nfulfilled the outward requirements of the law he was {143} regarded as\nholy, by himself and others, whatever might be the state of his heart\ntowards God.  This outwardness tended to create certain vices of\ncharacter.  Foremost amongst these were (1) _Vanity_ or Ostentation.  To\nappear well in the opinion of others was the aim of pharisaic conduct.\nAlong with ostentation appears (2) _Self-complacency_.  Flattery leads to\nself-esteem.  He who loves the praise of man naturally begins to praise\nhimself.  As a result of self-esteem arises (3) _Censoriousness_, since\nhe who thinks well of himself is apt to think ill of others.  As a system\nPharisaism was wanton hypocrisy--a character of seeming righteousness,\nbut too often of real viciousness.\n\nBut Christ came not to destroy but to fulfil the law.[47]  His aim was to\nproclaim the true principles of righteousness in contrast to the current\nnotions of it.  This He proceeds to do by issuing the law in its ideal\nand perfected form.[48]  Hence Jesus unfolds its _positive_ content by\nbringing into prominence the virtues of the godly character as opposed to\nthe pharisaic vices.  _Modesty_ and _humility_ are set over against\nostentation and self-righteousness.[49]  _Single-minded sincerity_ is\ncommended in opposition to hypocrisy.[50]  The vice of censoriousness is\nmet by the duty of _self-judgment_ rather than the judgment of others.[51]\n\nThe two positive features of the new law of righteousness as expounded by\nJesus are--_inwardness_ and _spontaneity_.  The righteousness of the\nGospel, so far from being laxer or easier of fulfilment, was actually to\nexceed that of the Pharisees:[52] (_a_) in _depth and inwardness_.  It is\nnot enough not to kill or steal or commit adultery.  These commandments\nmay be outwardly kept yet inwardly broken.  Something more radical is\nexpected of the man who has set before him the doing of God's will, a\nrighteousness not of appearance but of reality.  (_b_) In _freedom and\nspontaneity_.  It is to have its spring in the heart.  It is to be a\nrighteousness not of servile obedience, but of willing devotion.  The aim\nof life is no longer the painful effort of the bondsman who {144} strives\nto perform a distasteful task, but the gladsome endeavour of the son who\nknows and does, because he loves, his father's will.  In the Ethics of\nthe Christian life there is no such thing as mere duty; for a man never\nfulfils his duty till he has done more than is legally required of him.\n'Whosoever shall compel you to go with him one mile, go with him\ntwain.'[53]  The 'nicely calculated less or more' is alien to the spirit\nof him who would do God's will.  Love is the fulfilling of the law, and\nlove knows nothing of limits.\n\n3.  Thus the holiness of God is manifested not in righteousness only, but\nin the attribute of Love.  The human mind can attain to no higher\nconception of the divine character than that which the word 'love'\nsuggests.  The thought is the creation of Christianity.  It was the\nspecial contribution of one of the innermost circle of Jesus' disciples\nto give utterance to the new vision of the divine nature which Christ had\ndisclosed--'God is love.'[54]  In our Lord's teaching the centre of\ngravity is entirely changed.  The Jewish idea of God is enriched with a\nfuller content.  He is still the Holy One, but the sublimity of His\nrighteousness, though fully recognised, is softened by the gentler\nradiance of love.[55]  Jehovah the Sovereign is revealed as God the\nFather.  Divine righteousness is not simply justice, but goodness\nmanifested in far-reaching activities of mercy and pity and benevolence.\nA new note is struck in the Ethics of Jesus.  A new relationship is\nestablished between God and man--a personal filial relationship which\nentirely alters man's conception of life.  To be perfect as our Father in\nheaven is perfect, to be, and embody in life all that love means, that is\nthe sublime aim which Jesus in His own person and teaching sets before\nthe world.  As God's love is universal, and His care and compassion\nworld-wide, so, says Christ, not by retaliation or even by the\nperformance of strict justice, but in loving your enemies, in returning\ngood for evil and extending your acts of helpfulness and charity to those\n'who know not, care not, think {145} not, what they do,' shall ye become\nthe children of your Father, and realise something of that divine pattern\nof every man which has been shown him on the holy mount.\n\nIf the view presented in this chapter of the ethical ideal of\nChristianity be correct, then the doctrine of an _Interims-ethik_\nadvocated by modern eschatologists must be pronounced unsatisfactory as a\ncomplete account of the teaching of Jesus.[56]  The three features which\nstand out most clearly in the Ethics of Christ are, Absoluteness,\nInwardness, and Universality.  It is an ideal for man as man, for all\ntime, and for all men.  The personality of God represents the highest\nform of existence we know; and the love of God is the sublimest attribute\nwe can conceive.  But because God is our Father there is a kinship\nbetween the divine and the human; and no higher or grander vision of life\nis thinkable than to be like God--to share that which is most distinctive\nof the divine Fatherhood--His love of all mankind.  Hence Godlikeness\ninvolves Brotherhood.[57]  In the ideal of love--high as God, broad as\nthe world--the other aspects of the chief good, the individual and the\nsocial, are harmonised.  In Christian Ethics, the problem of philosophy\nhow to unite the one and the many, egoism and altruism, has been\npractically solved.  The individual realises his life only as he finds\nhimself in others; and this he can only do as he finds himself in God.\nThe first and last word of all morality and religion is summed up in\nChrist's twofold law of love: 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all\nthy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind; and thou shalt\nlove thy neighbour as thyself.'[58]\n\n\n\n[1] Cf. Troeltsch, _Die Sociallehren d. Christl. Kirchen_, vol. i. p.\n37, where the idea of self-worth and self-consecration is worked out.\n\n[2] Wernle, _Beginnings of Christianity_, vol. i. p. 76.\n\n[3] Wernle, _Beginnings of Christianity_, pp. 76 f.\n\n[4] John x. 10.\n\n[5] Luke xii. 15, 16.\n\n[6] Matt. v.\n\n[7] Matt. vi. 24.\n\n[8] 1 John ii. 15.\n\n[9] Luke x. 21; Matt. xi. 28-30; Mark viii. 35; John iii. 15, x. 28,\nxvii. 2.\n\n[10] John xvii. 3.\n\n[11] Rom. xii. 1.\n\n[12] Matt. xix. 17.\n\n[13] Luke xvii. 33; John xii. 25.\n\n[14] Bailey, _Festus_.\n\n[15] Browning.\n\n[16] Jones, _Browning as a Philosophical and Religious Teacher_, p. 354.\n\n[17] Abt Vogler.\n\n[18] Cf. Balch, _Introd. to the Study of Christian Ethics_, p. 150.\n\n[19] Newman Smyth, _Christian Ethics_, p. 97.\n\n[20] Balch, _Introd. to the Study of Christian Ethics_, p. 150.\n\n[21] See Apocalypses of Baruch, Esdras, Enoch, and Pss. of Solomon, and\nalso Daniel and Ezekiel.  Cf. E. F. Scott, _The Kingdom and the Messiah_,\nfor Apoc. literature.\n\n[22] J. Weiss, _Die Predigt Jesu vom Reiche Gottes_.  Cf. also Wernle,\n_Die Anfaenge unsurer Religion_, who is not so pronounced.  Bousset\nrejects this view, and Titius, in his _N. T. Doctrine of Blessedness_,\nregards the kingdom of God as a present good.  See also Moffatt, _The\nTheology of the Gospels_.\n\n[23] Cf. Dobschuetz, _The Eschatology of the Gospels_, also Schweitzer,\n_op. cit._, and Sanday, _The Life of Christ in Recent Research_, E.\nScott, _The Kingdom of God and the Messiah_, and Moffatt, _op. cit._\n\n[24] Cf. Barbour, _A Philos. Study of Chr. Ethics_, p. 184.\n\n[25] 'Jesu predigt in ihrem Gegensatz zum Judenthum.'\n\n[26] Cairns, _Christianity in the Mod. World_, p. 173.  See Schweitzer,\n_The Quest of the Historical Jesus_, for advocates and opponents of this\nview, pp. 222 ff.  Cf. also Troeltsch, _op. cit._, vol. i. p. 35.\n\n[27] Cf. Moffatt, _op. cit._\n\n[28] Luke iv. 21, xvii. 21; Matt. xii. 28, xi. 2-8, xi. 20; Luke xvi.\n16.  Cf. also Matt. xiii. 16-17.\n\n[29] Our Lord never uses the word 'final' or 'last' of anything\nconcerning the kingdom.  Only in the fourth Gospel do we find the phrase\n'the last day.'  See art., _Contemporary Review_, Sept. 1912.\n\n[30] The view of Weiss.\n\n[31] Luke xii. 19; Matt xxiv. 13; Mark xiii. 13; 2 Tim. ii. 12.\n\n[32] King, _The Ethics of Jesus_, p. 143.\n\n[33] Mark xiii. 7-31 has been called the 'little Apocalypse' and the\nhypothesis has been thrown out that a number of verses (fifteen in all)\nform a document by themselves, 'a fly leaf put into circulation before\nthe fall of Jerusalem, and really incorporated by the Evangelist himself.\nSee Sanday, art., _Hibbert Journal_, Oct. 1911, and _Life of Christ in\nRecent Research_.\n\n[34] Matt. xxiv. 42.\n\n[35] Matt. xxiv. 23.\n\n[36] Matt. xxiv. 27.\n\n[37] Matt. xxiv. 30.\n\n[38] Matt. xxiv. 31.\n\n[39] Matt. xxv.\n\n[40] E. F. Scott, _The Kingdom and the Messiah_, p. 256.\n\n[41] Matt. v. 48.\n\n[42] Lev. iv. 11, xix. 2.\n\n[43] Mark x. 18.\n\n[44] Cf. Orr, _Sin as a Problem of To-day_, chap. iii.\n\n[45] Cf. Jacoby, _Neu-testamentliche Ethik_, p. 1.\n\n[46] Matt. v. 3 f.\n\n[47] Matt. v. 17.\n\n[48] Matt. v. 18.\n\n[49] Matt. vi. 1-6.\n\n[50] Matt. vi. 16-18.\n\n[51] Matt. vii. 1-5.\n\n[52] Matt. v. 20.\n\n[53] Matt. v. 41.\n\n[54] 1 John iv. 8, 16.\n\n[55] John xvii. 11; Heb. x. 31; Rev. xv. 4.\n\n[56] Cf. E. Digges La Touche, _The Person of Christ in Modern Thought_,\npp. 150 ff.\n\n[57] 1 John iv. 21.\n\n[58] Matt. xxii. 37.\n\n\n\n\n{146}\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nTHE STANDARD AND MOTIVE OF THE NEW LIFE\n\nIn every system of Ethics the three ideas of End, Norm, and Motive are\ninseparable.  Christian Ethics is unique in this respect that it presents\nnot merely a code of morals, but an ideal of good embodied in a person\nwho is at once the pattern and inspiration of the new life.  In this\nchapter we propose to consider these two elements of the good.\n\n_Christ as Example_.--The value of 'concrete examples' has been\nfrequently recognised in non-Christian systems.  In the 'philosopher\nking' of Plato, the 'expert' of Aristotle, and the 'wise man' of the\nStoics we have the imaginary embodiment of the ideal.  A similar tendency\nis apparent in modern theories.  Comte invests the abstract idea of\n'Humanity' with certain personal perfections for which he claims homage.\nBut what other systems have conceived in an imaginative form only,\nChristianity has realised in an actual person.\n\nThe example of Christ is not a separate source of authority independent\nof His teaching, but rather its witness and illustration.  Word and deed\nin Jesus are in full agreement.  He was what He taught, and every truth\nHe uttered flowed directly from His inner nature.  He is the prototype\nand expression of the 'good' as it exists in the mind of God, as well as\nthe perfect representative and standard of it in human life.  In Him is\nmanifested for all time what is meant by the good.\n\n{147}\n\n1.  If Christ is the normative standard of life it is extremely important\nto obtain a true perception of Him as He dwelt among men.  But too often\nhave theology and art presented a Christ embellished with fantastic\ncolours or obscured by abstract speculations.  Recently, however, there\nhas been a revival of interest in the actual life of Jesus.  Men are\nturning wistfully to the life of the Master for guidance in practical\nmatters, and it is beginning to dawn upon the world that the highest\nideals of manhood were present in the Carpenter of Nazareth.  We must\ntherefore go back to the Gospels if we would know what manner of man\nJesus was.  The difficulty of presenting the Man Christ Jesus as the\neternal example to the world must have been almost insurmountable; and we\nare at once struck with two remarkable features of the synoptics'\nportrayal of Him.  (1) The writers make no attempt to produce a work of\nart.  They never dream that they are drawing a model for all men to copy.\nThere is no effort to touch up or tone down the portrait.  They simply\nreflect what they see without admixture of colours of their own.  Hence\nthe paradox of His personality--the intense humanness and yet the mystery\nof godliness ever and anon shining through the commonest incidents of His\nlife.  (2) Even more remarkable than the absence of subjectivity on the\npart of the evangelists is the unconsciousness of Jesus that He is being\nportrayed as an example.  We do not receive the impression that the Son\nof Man was consciously living for the edification of the world.  His\nmental attitude is not that of an actor playing a part, but of a true and\ngenuine man living his own life and fulfilling his own purpose.  There is\nno seeming or display.  Goodness to be effectual as an example must be\nunconscious goodness.  We are impressed everywhere with the perfect\nnaturalness and spontaneity of all that Christ did and uttered.[1]\n\nThe character of Jesus has been variously interpreted, and it is one of\nthe evidences of His moral greatness that each age has emphasised some\nnew aspect of His {148} personality.  In a nature so rich and complex it\nis difficult to fix upon a single category from which may be deduced the\nmanifold attributes of His character.  Two conceptions of Jesus have\ngenerally prevailed down the centuries.  One view interprets His\ncharacter in terms of asceticism; the other in terms of aestheticism.[2]\nSome regard Him as the representative of Hebrew sorrow and sacrifice;\nothers see in Him the type of Hellenic joy and geniality.  There are\npassages in Scripture confirmatory of both impressions.  On the one hand,\nthere is a whole series of virtues of the passive order which are utterly\nalien to the Greek ideal; and, on the other hand, there is equally\nprominent a tone of tranquil gladness, of broad sympathy with, and keen\nappreciation of, the beautiful in nature and life which contrasts with\nthe spirit of Hebrew abnegation.  But, after all, neither of these traits\nreveals the secret of Jesus.  Joy and sorrow are but incidents in life.\nThey have only moral value as the vehicles of a profounder spiritual\npurpose.  To help every man to realise the fullness and perfection of his\nbeing as a child of God is the aim of His life and ministry, and\neverything that furthers this end is gratefully recognised by Him as a\ngood.  He neither courts nor shuns pain.  Neither joy nor sorrow is for\nHim an end in itself.  Both are but incidents upon the way of holiness\nand love which He had chosen to travel.\n\n2.  Everywhere there was manifest in the life and teaching of Jesus a\nnote of _self-mastery and authority_ which impressed His contemporaries\nand goes far to explain and unify the various features of His personality\nand influence.  It is remarkable to notice how often the word 'power' is\napplied to Jesus in the New Testament.[3]  Whether we regard His attitude\nto God, or His relation to others, it is this note of quiet strength, of\nvital moral force which arrests our attention.  It will be sufficient to\nmention in passing three directions in which this quality of power is\nmanifest.\n\n{149}\n\n(1) It is revealed in the consciousness of a _divine mission_.  He goes\nsteadily forward with the calmness of one who knows himself and his work.\nHe has no fear or hesitancy.  Courage, earnestness, and singleness of\npurpose mark His career.  He is conscious that His task has been given\nHim by God, and that He is the chosen instrument of His Father's will.\nLife has a greatness and worth for Him because it may be made the\nmanifestation and vehicle of the divine purpose.\n\n(2) His power is revealed again in the _realisation of Holiness_.\nHoliness is to be differentiated, on the one hand, from innocence; and,\non the other, from sinlessness.  Innocence is untried goodness;\nsinlessness is negative goodness; holiness is achieved and victorious\ngoodness.  It was not mere absence of sin that distinguished Jesus.  His\nwas a purity won by temptation, an obedience perfected through suffering,\na peace and harmony of soul attained not by self-suppression, but by the\nconsecration of His unfolding life to the will of God.\n\n(3) His power is manifested once more in His _Sympathy with man_.  His\npurity was pervasive.  It flowed forth in acts of love.  He went about\ndoing good, invading the world of darkness and sorrow with light and joy.\nIt is the wealth of His interests and the variety of His sympathy which\ngive to the ministry of the Son of Man its impressiveness and charm.\nWith gladness as with grief, with the playfulness of childhood and the\nearnestness of maturity, with the innocent festivities and the graver\npursuits of His fellow-men, with the cares of the rich and the trials of\nthe poor, He disclosed the most intimate and tender feeling.  His\nparables show that He had an open and observant eye for all the life\naround Him.  To every appeal He responded with an insight and delicacy of\nconsideration which betokened that He Himself had sounded the depths of\nhuman experience and knew what was in man.  Humour, irony, and pathos in\nturn are revealed in His human intercourse.\n\nBut while Jesus delighted to give of Himself freely He knew also how to\nwithhold Himself.  There can be no true {150} sympathy without restraint.\nThe passive virtues--meekness, patience, forbearance--which appear in the\nlife of Christ are 'not the signs of mere self-mortification, they are\nthe signs of power in reserve.  They are the marks of one who can afford\nto wait, who expects to suffer; and that not because he is simply meek\nand lowly, but because he is also strong and calm.'[4]\n\nThe New Testament depicts Jesus as made in the likeness of men, whose\nlife, though unique in some of its aspects, was in its general conditions\nnormal, passing through the ordinary stages of growth, and participating\nin the common experiences of mankind.  He had to submit to the same laws\nand limitations of the universe as we have.  There was the same call, in\nHis case as in ours, to obedience and endurance.  There was the same\ndemand for moral decision.  Temptation, suffering, and toil, which mean\nso much for man in the discipline of character, were factors also in the\nspiritual development of Christ.  Trust, prayer, thanksgiving were\nexercised by the Son of Man as by others; confession alone had no place\nin His life.\n\n3.  The question has been seriously asked, Can the example and teaching\nof Jesus be really adopted in modern life as the pattern and rule of\nconduct?  Is there not something strangely impracticable in His Ethics;\nand, however admirably suited to meet the needs of His own time, utterly\ninapplicable to the complex conditions of society to-day?  On the one\nhand, Tolstoy would have us follow the example of Jesus to the letter,\nand rigidly practise the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount, even to the\nextent of refusing to resist wrong and possess property, and of holding\naloof from all culture and enterprise, and the interests of life\ngenerally.  On the other hand, philosophers like Paulsen and Bradley,\nperceiving the utter impracticableness of Tolstoy's contentions, yet at\nthe same time recognising his attitude as the only consistent one if the\nimitation of Christ is to have vogue at all, are convinced that the\nearthly life of Jesus is not the model of our {161} age, and that to\nattempt to carry out His precepts consistently would be not only\nimpossible but injurious to all the higher interests of humanity.[5]\n\nBut this conclusion is based, it seems to us, upon a two-fold\nmisapprehension.  It is founded upon an inadequate interpretation of the\nlife and teaching of Christ; and also upon a wholly mechanical\nunderstanding of the meaning and value of example.\n\n(1) What was Christ's ideal of the Christian life?  Was it that of the\nmonk or the citizen?--the recluse who meditates apart on his own\nsalvation, or the worker who enters the world and contributes to the\nbetterment of mankind?  Is the kingdom of God a realm apart and separate\nfrom all the other domains of activity?  Or has Christianity, according\nto its essence, room within it for an application of its truth to the\ncomplex relations and manifold interests of modern life?  Both views have\nfound expression in the history of the Church.  But there can be little\ndoubt as to which is the true interpretation of the mind of Jesus.[6]\n\n(2) But, again, what is meant by the 'imitation of Christ' has been also\nmisconceived.  Imitation is not a literal mechanical copying.  To make\nthe character of another your model does not mean that you are to become\nhis mimic or echo.  In asking us to follow Him, Christ does not desire to\nsuppress our individuality, but to enrich and ennoble it.  When He says,\non the occasion of the feet-washing of His disciples, 'I have given you\nan example, that ye should do as I have done to you,'[7] obviously it was\nnot the outward literal performance, but the spirit of humility and\nservice embodied in the act which He desired His disciples to emulate.\nFrom another soul we receive incentives rather than rules.  No teacher or\nmaster, says Emerson, can {152} realise for us what is good.[8]  Within\nour own souls alone can the decision be made.  We cannot hope to\ninterpret the character of another until there be within our own breasts\nthe same moral spirit from which we believe his conduct to proceed.  The\nvery nature of goodness forbids slavish reproduction.  Hence there is a\ncertain sense in which the paradox of Kant is true, that 'imitation finds\nno place at all in morality.'[9]  The question, 'What would Jesus do?' as\na test of conduct covers a quite inadequate conception of the intimate\nand vital relations Christ bears to our humanity.  'It is not to copy\nafter Christ,' says a modern writer, 'but to receive His spirit and make\nit effective--which is the moral task of the Christian.'[10]  Christ is\nindeed our example, but He is more.  And unless He were more He could not\nbe so much.  We could not strive to be like Him if He were not already\nwithin us, the Principle and Spirit of our life, the higher and diviner\nself of every man.\n\nWhat is meant, then, by saying that Christ is the ideal character or norm\nof life is that He represents to us human nature in its typical or ideal\nform.  As we behold His perfection we feel that this is what we were made\nfor, this is the true end of our being.  Every one may, in short, see in\nHim the fulfilment of the divine idea and purpose of man--the conception\nand end of himself.[11]\n\n\nII\n\n_The Christian Motive_.--Rightly regarded Christ is not only the model of\nthe new life, but its motive as well.  All the great appeals of the\nGospel--every persuasion and plea by which God seeks to awaken a\nresponsive love in the hearts of men--are centred in, and find expression\nthrough, the Person and Passion of Christ.\n\n1.  The question of motive is a primary one in Ethics.  {153} If,\ntherefore, we ask, What is the deepest spring of action, what is the\nincentive and motive power for the Christian?  The answer is: (1) the\nlove of God, a love which finds its highest expression in _Forgiveness_.\nOf all motives the most powerful is the sense of being pardoned.  Even\nwhen it is only one human being who forgives another, nothing strikes so\ndeep into the human heart or evokes penitence so tender and unreserved,\nor brings a joy so pure and lasting.  It not only restores the old\nrelation which wrong had dissolved; it gives the offender a sense of\nloyalty unknown before.  He is now bound not by law but by honour, and it\nwould be a disloyalty worse than the original offence if he wounded such\nlove again.  Thus it is that God becomes the object of reverence and\naffection, not because He imposes laws upon us but because He pardons and\nredeems.  The consciousness of forgiveness is far more potent in\nproducing goodness than the consciousness of law.  This psychological\nfact lay at the root of Christ's ministry, and was the secret of His hope\nfor man.  This, too, is the key to all that is paradoxical, and, at the\nsame time, to all that is most characteristic in St Paul's Gospel.  What\nthe Law could not do, forgiveness achieves.  It creates the new heart,\nand with it the new holiness.  'It is not anything statutory which makes\nsaints out of sinful men; it is the forgiveness which comes through the\npassion of Jesus.'[12]\n\n(2) Next to the motive of forgiveness, and indeed arising from it, is the\nnew consciousness of the _Fatherhood of God_, and the corresponding idea\nof sonship.  This was a motive to which Jesus habitually appealed.  He\ninvariably sought not only to create in men confidence in God by\nrevealing His fatherly providence, but also to lift them out of their\napathy and thraldom by kindling in their souls a sense of their worth and\nliberty as sons of God.  The same thought is prominent also in the\nepistles both of St. Paul and St. John.  As children of God we are no\nlonger menials and hirelings who do their work merely for pay, and\nwithout {154} intelligent interest, but sons who share our Father's\npossessions and co-operate with Him in His purposes.[13]\n\n(3) Closely connected with the idea of Sonship is that of life as a\n_Divine Vocation_.  Life is a trust, and as the children of God we are\ncalled to serve Him with all we have and are.  The sense of the vocation\nand stewardship of life acts as a motive: (_a_) in giving _dignity and\nstability_ to character, saving us, on the one hand, from fatalism, and\non the other from fanaticism, and affording definiteness of purpose to\nall our endeavours; and (_b_) in promoting _sincerity and fidelity_ in\nour life-work.  Thoroughness will permeate every department of our\nconduct, since whatsoever we do in word or deed we do as unto God.  All\nduty is felt to be one, and as love to God becomes its motive the\nsmallest as well as the greatest act is invested with infinite worth.\n'All service ranks the same with God.'\n\n(4) Another motive, prominent in the Pauline Epistles, but present also\nin the eschatological passages of the Synoptics, ought to be mentioned,\nthough it does not now act upon Christians in the same form--_the\nShortness and Uncertainty of life_.  Our Lord enjoins men to work while\nit is day for the night cometh; and in view of the suddenness and\nunexpectedness of the coming of the Son of Man He exhorts to watchfulness\nand preparedness.  A similar thought forms the background of the\napostle's conception of life.  His entire view of duty as well as his\nestimate of earthly things are tinged with the idea that 'the time is\nshort,' and that 'the Lord is at hand.'  Christians are exhorted,\ntherefore, to sit lightly to all worldly considerations.  Our true\ncitizenship is in heaven.  But neither the apostle nor his Master ever\nurges this fact as a reason for apathy or indifference.  Life may be\nbrief, but it is not worthless.  The thought of life's brevity must not\nact as an opiate, but rather as a stimulant.  If our existence here is\nshort, then there is all the greater necessity that its days should be\nnobly filled, and its transient opportunities seized and turned into\noccasions of strenuous service.\n\n{155}\n\n(5) To the considerations just mentioned must be added a cognate truth\nwhich has coloured the whole Christian view of life, and has been a most\npowerful factor in shaping Christian conduct--_the idea of Immortality_.\nIt is not quite correct to say that we owe this doctrine to Christianity\nalone.  Long before the Christian era it was recognised in Egypt, Greece,\nand the Orient generally.  But it was entertained more as a surmise than\na conviction.  And among the Greeks it was little more than the shadowy\nspeculation of philosophers.  Plato, in his _Phaedo_, puts into the mouth\nof Socrates utterances of great beauty and far-reaching import; yet,\nnotwithstanding their sublimity, they scarcely attain to more than a\n'perhaps.'  Even in Hebrew literature, as we have seen, while isolated\ninstances of a larger hope are not wanting, there is no confident or\ngeneral belief in an after-life.  But what was only guessed at by the\nancients was declared as a fact by Christ, and preached as a sublime and\ncomforting truth by the apostles; and it is not too much to say that\nsurvival after death is at once the most distinctive doctrine of\nChristianity and the most precious hope of Christendom.  The whole moral\ntemperature of the world, says Jean Paul Richter, has been raised\nimmeasurably by the fact that Christ by His Gospel has brought life and\nimmortality to light.  This idea, which has found expression, not only in\nall the creeds of Christendom, but also in the higher literature and\npoetry of modern times, has given a new motive to action, has founded a\nnew type of heroism, and nerved common men and women to the discharge of\ntasks from which nature recoils.  The assurance that death does not end\nexistence, but that 'man has forever,' has not only exalted and\ntransfigured the common virtues of humanity; but, held in conjunction\nwith the belief in the divine Fatherhood and human brotherhood, given to\nlife itself a new solemnity and pathos.[14]\n\n2.  But if these are the things which actuate men in their service of God\nand man, can it be legitimately said that the Christian motive is pure\nand disinterested?  It is {166} somewhat remarkable that two opposite\ncharges have been brought against Christian Ethics.[15]  In one quarter\nthe reproach has been made that Christianity suppresses every natural\ndesire for happiness, and inculcates a life of severe renunciation.  And\nwith equally strong insistence there are others who find fault with it\nbecause of its hedonism, because it rests morality upon an appeal to\nselfish interests alone.\n\n(1) The first charge is sufficiently met, we think, by our view of the\nChristian ideal.  We have seen that it is a full rich life which Christ\nreveals and commends.  The kingdom of God finds its realisation, not in a\nwithdrawal from human interests, but in a larger and fuller participation\nin all that makes for the highest good of humanity.  It is a caricature\nof Christ's whole outlook upon existence to represent Him as teaching\nthat this life is an outlying waste, forsaken of God and unblessed, and\nthat the world is so hopelessly bad that it must be wholly renounced.  On\nthe contrary, it is for Him one of the provinces of the divine kingdom,\nand the most trivial of our occupations and the most transient of our\njoys and sorrows find their place in the divine order.  It is not\nnecessary to endorse Renan's idyllic picture of the Galilean ministry to\nbelieve that for Jesus all life, its ordinary engagements and activities,\nhad a worth for the discipline and perfecting of character, and were\ncapable of being consecrated to the highest ends.  There are, indeed, not\na few passages in which the call to self-denial is emphasised.  But\nneither Christ nor His apostles represent pain and want as in themselves\nefficacious or meritorious.  Renunciation is inculcated not for its own\nsake, but always as a means to fuller realisation.  Jesus, indeed,\ntranscends the common antithesis of life.  For Him it is not a question\nas to whether asceticism or non-asceticism is best.  Life is for use.  It\nis at once a trust and a privilege.  It may seem to some that He chose\n'the primrose path,' but if he did so it was not due to an easy-going\ngood-nature.  We dare not forget the terrible issues {157} He faced\nwithout flinching.  As Professor Sanday has finely said, 'If we are to\ndraw a lesson in this respect from our Lord's life, it certainly would\nnot be that\n\n  \"He who lets his feelings run\n    In soft luxurious flow,\n  Shrinks when hard service must be done,\n    And faints at every woe.\"\n\nIt would be rather that the brightest and tenderest human life must have\na stern background, must carry with it the possibility of infinite\nsacrifice, of bearing the cross and the crown of thorns.'[16]\n\n(2) The second charge, the charge of hedonism, though seemingly opposed\nto the first, comes into line with it in so far as it is alleged that\nChristianity, while inculcating renunciation in this world, does so for\nthe sake of happiness in the next.  It is contended that in regard to\npurity of motive the Ethics of Christianity falls below the Ethics of\nphilosophy.[17]  This statement, so often repeated, requires some\nexamination.\n\n3.  While it may be acknowledged that unselfishness and disinterestedness\nare the criterion of moral sublimity, it must be noted at the outset that\nconsiderable confusion of thought exists as to the meaning of motive.\nEven in those moral systems in which virtue is represented as wholly\ndisinterested, the motive may be said to reside in the object itself.\nThe maxim, 'Virtue for virtue's sake,' really implies what may be called\nthe 'interest of achievement.'  If virtue has any meaning it must be\nregarded as a 'good' which is desirable.  Perseverance in the pursuit of\nany good implies the hope of success; in other words, of the reward which\nlies in the attainment of the object desired.  The reward sought may not\nbe foreign to the nature of virtue itself, but none the less, the idea of\nreward is present, and, in a sense, is the incentive to all virtuous\nendeavour.  This is, indeed, implied by a no less rigorous {168} moralist\nthan Kant.  For as he himself teaches, the question, 'What should I do?'\nleads inevitably to the further question, 'What may I hope?'[18]  The end\nstriven after cannot be a matter of indifference, if virtue is to have\nmoral value at all.  It must be a real and desirable end--an end which\nfulfils the purpose of a man as a moral being.\n\n(1) But though Kant insists with rigorous logic that reverence for the\nmajesty of the moral law must be the only motive of duty, and that all\nmotives springing from personal desire or hope of happiness must be\nseverely excluded, it is curious to find that in the second part of his\n_Critique of Practical Reason_ he proceeds, with a strange inconsistency,\nto make room for the other idea, viz., that virtue is not without its\nreward, and is indeed united in the end with happiness.  Felicity and\nholiness shall be ultimately one, he says; and, at the last, virtue shall\nbe seen 'to be worthy of happiness,' and happiness shall be the crown of\ngoodness.[19]  Thus those philosophers, of whom Kant is typical, who\ncontend for the purity of the moral motive and the disinterested loyalty\nto the good, bring in, at the end, the notion of happiness, which, as a\nconcomitant or consequence of virtue, cannot fail to be also an active\nincentive.\n\n(2) When we turn to Christian Ethics we find that here, not less than in\nphilosophical Ethics, the motive lies in the object itself.  The end and\nthe motive are really one, and the highest good is to be sought for\nitself and not for the sake of some ulterior gain.  It is true, indeed,\nthat Christianity has not always been presented in its purest form; too\noften have prudence, fear, other-worldliness been set forth as\ninducements to goodness, as if the Gospel cared nothing for the\ndisposition of a man, and was concerned only with his ultimate happiness.\nEven a moralist so acute as Paley bases morality upon no higher ground\nthan enlightened self-interest.  But the most superficial reader of the\nGospels must see at a glance the wide variance between such a view and\nthat of Christ.  Nothing could be further from the spirit of Jesus than\nto estimate the {169} excellence of an action by the magnitude or the\nutility of its effects rather than the intrinsic good of its motive.\nOtherwise He would not have ranked the widow's mite above the gifts of\nvanity, nor esteemed the tribute of the penitent, not so much for the\ncostliness of her offering, as for the sincerity of affection it\nrevealed.  Christ looked upon the heart alone, and the worth of an action\nlay essentially for Him in its inner quality.  Sin resided not merely in\nthe overt act, but even more in the secret desire.  A man may be\noutwardly blameless, and yet not really good.  He who remains sober or\nhonest simply because of the worldly advantages attaching to such conduct\nmay obtain a certificate of respectability from society; but, judged by\nthe standard of Christ, he is not truly a moral man.  In an age which is\ntoo prone to make outward propriety the gauge of goodness, it cannot be\nsufficiently insisted upon that the Ethic of Christianity is an Ethic of\nthe inner motive and intention, and that, in this respect, it does not\nfall a whit behind the demand of the most rigid system of disinterested\nmorality.\n\n(_a_) It must, however, be freely admitted that our Lord frequently\nemploys the sanctions both of rewards and penalties.  In the time of\nChrist the idea of reward, so prominent in the Old Testament, still held\nan important place in Jewish religion, being specially connected with the\nMessianic Hope and the coming of the kingdom.  It was not unnatural,\ntherefore, that Jesus, trained in Hebrew religious modes of thought and\nexpression, should frequently employ the existing conceptions as vehicles\nof His own teaching; but, at the same time, purifying them of their more\nmaterialistic associations and giving to them a richer spiritual content.\nWhile the kingdom of God is spoken of as a gift, and promised, indeed, as\na reward, the word 'reward' in this connection is not used in the\nordinary sense, but 'is rather conceived as belonging to the same order\nof spiritual experience as the state of heart and mind which ensures its\nbestowal.'[20]  Though Jesus does not {160} hesitate to point His\ndisciples to the blessings of heaven which they will receive in the\nfuture, these are represented for the most part not as material benefits,\nbut as the intensification and enrichment of life itself.[21]\n\nIt was usually the difficulties rather than the advantages of\ndiscipleship upon which Jesus first laid stress.  He would not that any\none should come to Him on false pretences, or without fully counting the\ncost.[22]  Even when He Himself called His original disciples, it was of\nservice and not of recompense He spoke.  'Follow Me, and I will make you\nfishers of men.'[23]  The privilege consisted not in outward eclat, but\nin the participation of the Master's own purpose and work.  Still, all\nservice carries with it its own reward, and no one can share the mission\nof Christ without also partaking of that satisfaction and joy which are\ninseparable from the highest forms of spiritual ministry.[24]\n\nThere is, however, one passage recorded by all the Synoptists which seems\nat first sight to point more definitely to a reward of a distinctly\nmaterial character, and to one that was to be enjoyed not merely in the\nfuture, but even in this present life.  When Peter somewhat boastfully\nspoke of the sacrifice which he and his brethren had made for the\nGospel's sake, and asked, 'What shall we have therefor?' Jesus replied,\n'Verily, I say unto you, that no man that hath left home, or brethren, or\nsisters, or mother, or father, or children, or lands, for My sake and the\nGospel's sake, but shall receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses\nand brethren, sisters and mothers, and children and lands, with\npersecutions; and in the world to come eternal life.'[25]  Now, while\nthis is a promise of wide sweep and large generosity, it is neither so\narbitrary nor material as it seems.  First, the words, 'with\npersecutions,' indicate that suffering is not only the very condition of\nthe promise, but indeed an essential part of the reward--an element which\nwould of itself be a true test of the sincerity of the sacrifice.  {161}\nBut, second, even the promise, 'An hundredfold now in this time,' is\nobviously not intended to be taken in a literal sense, but rather as\nsuggesting that the gain, while apparently of the same nature as the\nsacrifice, will have a larger spiritual import.  For, just as Jesus\nHimself looked upon all who shared His own devotion as His mother and\nbrethren; so, in the deepest sense, when a man leaves father and mother,\nrenouncing home and family ties for the sake of bringing his fellow-men\nto God, he seems to be emptying his life of all affectionate\nrelationships, but in reality he is entering into a wider brotherhood;\nand, in virtue of his ministry of love, is being knit in bonds stronger\nthan those of earthly kinship, with a great and increasing community of\nsouls which owe to him their lives.[26]  The promise is no arbitrary gift\nor bribe capriciously bestowed; it is the natural fruition of moral\nendeavour.  For there is nothing so productive as sacrifice.  What the\nman who yields himself to the service of Christ actually gives is life;\nand what he gets back, increased an hundredfold, is just life again, his\nown life, repeated and reflected in the men and women whom he has won to\nChrist.\n\nIn some of His parables Christ employs the analogy of the\nwork-engagement, in which labour and payment seem to correspond.  But the\nlegal element has a very subordinate place in the simile.  Jesus lifts\nthe whole relationship into a higher region of thought, and transforms\nthe idea of wages into that of a gift of love far transcending the legal\nclaim which can be made by the worker.  He who has the bondsman's mind,\nand works only for the hireling's pay, will only get what he works for.\nBut he who serves from love finds in the service itself that which must\nalways be its truest recompense--the increased power of service, the\ncapacity of larger devotion[27]--'The wages of going on.'[28]  In his\nlatest volume Deissmann has pointed out that we can only do justice to\nthe utterances of the New Testament regarding work and wages by examining\nthem _in situ_, {162} amidst their natural surroundings.  Jesus and St.\nPaul spoke with distinct reference to the life and habits of the common\npeople of their day.  'If you elevate such utterances to the level of the\nKantian moral philosophy, and reproach primitive Christianity with\nteaching for the sake of reward, you not only misunderstand the words,\nbut tear them up by the roots.' . . . 'The sordid ignoble suggestions so\nliable to arise in the lower classes are altogether absent from the\nsayings of Jesus and His apostles, as shown by the parable of the\nLabourers in the Vineyard, and the analogous reliance of St. Paul solely\nupon grace.'[29]\n\nThe same inner relation subsists between Sin and Penalty.  But here,\nagain, the award of punishment is not arbitrary, but the natural\nconsequence of disobedience to the law of the spiritual life.  He who\nseeks to save his life shall lose it.  He who makes this world his all\nshall receive as his reward only what this world can give.  He who buries\nhis talent shall, by the natural law of disuse, forfeit it.  Not to\nbelieve in Christ is to miss eternal life.  To refuse Him who is the\nLight of the world is to remain in darkness.\n\n(6) An examination of the Pauline epistles yields a similar conclusion.\nSt. Paul does not disdain to employ the sanctions of hope and fear.\n'Knowing the terrors of the Lord' he persuades men, and 'because of the\npromises' he urges the Corinthians 'to cleanse themselves and perfect\nholiness.'  But in Paul's case, as in that of our Lord, the charge of\nhedonism is meaningless.  For not only does the conception hold a most\nsubordinate place in his teaching, but the idea loses the sense of merit,\nand is transmuted into that of a free gift.  And in general, in all the\npassages where the hope of the future is introduced, the idea of reward\nis merged in the yearning for a fuller life, which the Christian, who has\nonce tasted of its joy here, may well expect in richer measure\nhereafter.[30]\n\nEnough has been said to clear Christianity of the charge of hedonism.  So\nfar from Christian Ethics falling {163} below Philosophical Ethics in\nregard to purity of motive, it really surpasses it in the sublimity of\nits sanctions.  The Kantian idea of virtue tends to empty the obligation\nof all moral content.  Goodness, as the philosopher himself came to see,\ncannot be represented as a mere impersonal abstraction.  Virtue has no\nmeaning except in relation to its ultimate end.  And life in union with a\npersonal God, in whose image we have been made, is the end and purpose of\nman's being.  Noble as it may be to live morally without the thought of\nGod, the man who so strives to live does not attain to such a high\nconception of life as he who lives with God for his object.  Motives\nadvance with aims, and the higher the ideal the nobler the incentive.\nFear of future punishment and the desire for future happiness may prove\neffective aids to the will at certain stages of moral development, but\nultimately the love of God and the beauty of holiness make every other\nmotive superfluous.  Indeed, the reward of the Christian life is such as\ncan only appeal to one who has come to identify himself with the divine\nwill.  The Christian man is always entering upon his reward.  His joy is\nhis Master's joy.  He has no other interest.  His reward, both here and\nhereafter, is not some external payment, something separable from\nhimself; it is wholly conditioned by what he is, and is simply his own\ngrowth of character, his increasing power of being good and doing good.\nAnd if it be still asked, What is the great inducement?  What is it that\nmakes the life of the Christian worth living?  The answer can only\nbe--The hope of becoming what Christ has set before man as desirable, of\ngrowing up to the stature of perfect manhood, of attaining to the\nlikeness of Jesus Christ Himself.  But so far from this being a selfish\naim, not to seek one's life in God--to be indifferent to all the inherent\nblessings and joys involved--would be not the mark of pure\ndisinterestedness, but the evidence, rather, of a lack of appreciation of\nwhat life really means.  The soul that has caught the vision of God and\nbeen thrilled with the grace of the Son of Man cannot but yield itself to\nthe best it knows.\n\n\n\n[1] Cf. Fairbairn, _The Phil. of the Ch. Religion_, pp. 358 ff.\n\n[2] Peabody, _Christ and the Christian Character_, p. 44.\n\n[3] Peabody, _op. cit._, pp. 53 f.\n\n[4] Peabody, _op. cit._, p. 68.\n\n[5] See Paulsen, _System der Ethik_, pp. 56 ff.; also Troeltsch, _op.\ncit._, vol. ii. p. 847.\n\n[6] Cf. Ehrhardt, _Der Grundcharacter d. Ethik. Jesu_, p. 110.  'The\nascetic element in the ethics of Jesus is its transient, the service of\nGod its permanent element.'  Cf. also Strauss, _Leben Jesu_, who speaks\nof 'the Hellenic quality' in Jesus; also Keim, _Jesus of Nazareth, and\nTroeltsch_, _op. cit._, vol. i. pp. 34 ff.\n\n[7] John xiii. 15.\n\n[8] _Conduct of Life_.\n\n[9] _Metaphysics of Ethics_, sect. ii.\n\n[10] Schultz, _Grundriss d. evang. Ethik_, p. 5.\n\n[11] Cf. _Ecce Homo_, chap. x.\n\n[12] This thought has been beautifully worked out by Prof. Denney in\n_British Weekly_, Jan. 13, 1912.\n\n[13] Luke xv.\n\n[14] Cf. Knight, _The Christian Ethic_, p. 36.\n\n[15] See Haering, _Ethics of the Christian Life_, p. 190.\n\n[16] 'Apocalyptic Element in the Gospels,' _Hibbert Journal_, Oct. 1911.\n\n[17] The question of rewards has been fully discussed by Jacoby,\n_Neutestamentliche Ethik_, pp. 41 ff.; also Barbour, _op. cit._, pp.  226\nff.\n\n[18] Cf. _Kritik d. prakt. Vernunft_, p. 143.\n\n[19] Kant, _Idem_.\n\n[20] Barbour, _op. cit._, p. 231.\n\n[21] Matt. v. 12, xix. 21, xxv. 34; Luke vi. 23, xviii. 22; Mark x. 21.\n\n[22] Mark viii. 19; Luke ix. 57.\n\n[23] Mark i. 17, ii. 14.\n\n[24] Luke xxii. 29 f.\n\n[25] Mark x. 28-31; cf. Matt. xix. 27-30.\n\n[26] This thought is finely elaborated by Barbour.\n\n[27] Matt. xxv. 21; Luke xix. 17.\n\n[28] Tennyson, _Wages_.\n\n[29] Deissmann, _Light from the Ancient East_, pp. 316 ff.\n\n[30] See also Eph. vi. 5-8; 1 Cor. iii. 14; Rom. v. 2-5, vi. 23, viii.\n16.\n\n\n\n\n{164}\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE DYNAMIC OF THE NEW LIFE\n\nIn the dynamic power of the new life we reach the central and\ndistinguishing feature of Christian Ethics.  The uniqueness of\nChristianity consists in its mode of dealing with a problem which all\nnon-Christian systems have tended to ignore--the problem of translating\nthe ideal into life.  The Gospel not only sets before men the highest\ngood, but it imparts the secret of realising it.  The ideals of the\nancients were but visions of perfection.  They had no objective\nreality.  Beautiful as these old-time visions of 'Good' were, they\nlacked impelling force, the power to change dreams into realities.\nThey were helpless in the face of the great fact of sin.  They could\nsuggest no remedy for moral disease.\n\nChristianity is not a philosophical dream nor the imagination of a few\nvisionaries.  It claims to be a new creative force, a power\ncommunicated and received, to be worked out and realised in the actual\nlife and character of common men and women.\n\nIn this chapter we have to consider the means whereby man is brought\ninto a new spiritual relation with God, and enabled to live the new\nlife as it has been revealed in Christ.  This reconciliation implies a\ntwofold movement--a redemptive action on God's part, and an\nappropriating and determinative response on the part of man.\n\n\nI\n\nTHE DIVINE POWER\n\nThe urgent problem of the New Testament writers was, How can man\nachieve that good which has been embodied {165} in the life and example\nof Jesus Christ?  A full answer to this question would lead us into the\nrealm of dogmatic theology.  And therefore, without entering upon\ndetails, it may be said at once that the originality of the Gospel lies\nin this, that it not only reveals the good in a concrete and living\nform, but discloses the power which makes the good possible in the\nhitherto unattempted derivation of the new life from a new birth under\nthe influence of the spirit of God.  The power to achieve the moral\nlife does not lie in the natural man.  No readjustment of\ncircumstances, nor spread of knowledge, is of itself equal to the task\nof creating that entirely new phenomenon--the Christian character.\nThere must be a cause proportionate to the effect.  'Nothing availeth,'\nsays Paul, 'but a new creature.'  This new condition owes its origin to\nGod.  It is a life communicated by an act of divine creative activity.\n\nBut while this regenerative energy is represented generally as the work\nof God's spirit, it is more particularly set forth as operating through\nChrist who is the power of God unto salvation.\n\nThere are three great facts in Christ's life with which the New\nTestament connects the redemptive work of God.\n\n1.  _The Incarnation_.--In Christ God shares man's nature, and thus\nmakes possible a union of the divine and human.  On its divine side the\nincarnation is the complete revelation of God in human life, and on the\nhuman side it is the supreme expression of the spiritual meaning of\nhuman nature itself.  Christ saves not by a special act of atonement\nalone, but emphatically by manifesting in Himself the union of God and\nman.  In view of the fact of the world's sin, the Incarnation, as the\nrevelation of the divine life, includes a gracious purpose.  It\ninvolves the sacrifice of God, which theologians designate by the\ntheory of _Kenosis_.  The Advent was not only the consummation of the\nreligious history of the race; it was also the inauguration of a new\nera.  The Son of Man initiated a new type of humanity, to be realised\nin increasing fullness as men entered into the meaning of the great\nrevelation.  'He {166} recapitulated in Himself the long unfolding of\nmankind.'[1]  Hence in the very fact of the word becoming flesh\natonement is involved.  In Christ God is revealed in the reality of His\nlove and the persistence of His search for man, while man is disclosed\nin the greatness of his vision and vocation.\n\n2.  _The Death of Christ_.--Although already implied in the life, the\natonement culminates in the death of Christ.  Even by being made in the\nlikeness of men Jesus did not escape from, but willingly took up, the\nburdens of humanity and bore them as the Son of Man.  But His passion\nupon the cross, as the supreme instance of suffering borne for others,\nat once illuminated and completed all that He suffered and achieved as\nman's representative.  It is this aspect of Christ's redemptive work\nupon which St. Paul delights to dwell.  And though naturally not so\nprominent in our Lord's own teaching, yet even there the significance\nof the Redeemer's death is foreshadowed, and in more than one passage\nexplicitly stated.[2]  Here we are in the region of dogmatics, and we\nare not called upon to formulate a doctrine of the atonement.  All that\nwe have to do with is the ethical fact that between man and the new\nlife there lies the actuality of sin, the real source of man's failure\nto achieve righteousness, and the stumbling-block which must be removed\nbefore reconciliation with God the Father can be effected.  The act, at\nonce divine and human, which alone meets the case is represented in\nScripture as the Sacrifice of Christ.  In reference to the efficacy of\nthe sacrifice upon the cross Bishop Butler says: 'How and in what\nparticular way it had this efficacy, there are not wanting persons who\nhave endeavoured to explain; but I do not find that the Scripture has\nexplained it.'[3]  Though, indeed, the fact is independent of any\ntheory, the truth for which the cross stands must be brought by us into\nsome kind of intelligible relation with our view of the world,\notherwise it is a piece of magic lying outside of our experience, and\n{167} having no ethical value for life.  At the same time no doctrine\nhas suffered more from shallow theorisings, and particularly by the\nemployment of mechanical, legal, and commercial analogies, than the\ndoctrine of the atonement.  The very essence of the religious life is\nincompatible with the idea of an external transference of goodness from\none being to another.  Man can be reconciled to God only by an absolute\nsurrender of himself to God.  To assimilate this spiritual act to a\ncommercial or legal transaction is to destroy the very idea of the\nmoral life.  No explanation, however, can be considered satisfactory\nwhich does not safeguard two ideas of a deeply ethical nature--the\nvoluntariness and the vicariousness of Christ's sacrifice.  We must be\ncareful to do justice, on the one hand, to the eternal relations in\nwhich Christ stands to God; and on the other, to the intimate\nassociation with man into which Jesus has entered.  It is the task of\ntheology to bring together the various passages of Scripture, and\nexhibit their systematic connection and relative value for a doctrine\nof soteriology.  For Ethics the one significant fact to be recognised\nis that in a human life was fulfilled perfect obedience, even as far as\ndeath, a perfect obedience that completely met and fully satisfied the\ndemand of the very highest, the divine ideal.\n\n3.  _The Resurrection of Christ_.--If the Incarnation naturally issues\nin the sacrifice unto death, that again is crowned and sealed by\nChrist's risen life.  The Resurrection is the vindication and\ncompletion of the Redeemer's work.  He who was born of the seed of\nDavid according to the flesh was declared to be the Son of God by the\nResurrection.  It was the certainty that He had risen that gave to His\ndeath, in the apostles' eyes, its sacrificial value.  This was the\nground of St. Paul's conviction that the old order had passed away, and\nthat a new order had been established.  'If Christ be not risen ye are\nyet in your sins.'  In virtue of His ascended life Christ becomes the\nindwelling presence and living power within the regenerate man.  It is\nin no external way that the Redeemer exerts His influence.  He is the\nprinciple of life working within the soul.  The key {168} to the new\nstate is to be found in the mystical union of the Christian with the\nrisen Lord.  The twofold act of death and resurrection has its analogy\nin the experience of every redeemed man.  Within the secret sanctuary\nof the human soul that has passed from death to life, the history of\nthe Redeemer is re-enacted.  In the several passages which refer to\nthis subject the idea is that the changed life is based upon an ethical\ndying and rising again with Christ.[4]  The Christ within the heart is\nthe vital principle and dynamic energy by which the believer lives and\ntriumphs over every obstacle--the world, sin, sorrow, and death itself.\n'I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.'[5]  All that makes life,\n'life indeed'--an exalted, harmonious, and joyous existence--is derived\nfrom union with the living Lord, who has come to be what He is for man\nby the earthly experiences through which He has passed.  Thus by His\nIncarnation, Death, and Resurrection He is at once the source and goal,\nthe spring and ideal of the new life.\n\n  'Yea, thro' life, death, sorrow, and through sinning,\n  He shall suffice me for He hath sufficed;\n  Christ is the end, for Christ was the beginning;\n  Christ the beginning, for the end is Christ.'[6]\n\n\nTheology may seek to analyse the personality of Christ into its\nelements--the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus.  But after\nall it is one and indivisible.  It is the whole fact of Christ, and not\nany particular experience taken in its isolation, which is the power of\nGod unto salvation.  The question still remains after all our analysis,\nWhat was it that gave to these events in the history of Jesus their\ncreative and transforming power?  And the answer can only be--Because\nChrist was what He was.  It was the unique character of the Being of\nwhom these were but the manifestations which wrought the spell.  What\nbound the New Testament Christians to the cross was that their Master\nhung there.  They saw in that life lived among {169} men, and in that\nsacrifice upon Calvary, the perfect consummation of the ideal manhood\nthat lived within their own hearts, and of the love, new upon the\nearth, which made it possible.  The cross stood for the symbol of a\ntruth that pierced to the inner core of their souls.  'He bore our\nsins.'  And thus down the centuries, in their hour of shame, and grief,\nand death, men have lifted their eyes to the Man of Sorrows, and have\nfound in His life and sacrifice, apart from all theories of atonement,\ntheir peace and triumph.  It is this note of absolute surrender towards\nGod and of perfect love for man which, because it answers to a deep\nyearning of the human heart, has given to the mystery of the\nIncarnation and the Cross its lifting and renewing power,\n\n\nII\n\nTHE HUMAN RESPONSE\n\nPossession of power involves the obligation to use it.  The force is\ngiven; it has to be appropriated.  The spirit of Christ is not offered\nin order to free a man from the duties of the moral life.  Man is not\nsimply the recipient of divine energy.  He has to make it his own and\nto work it out by his self-determinative activity.  Nevertheless the\nrelation of the divine spirit to the human personality is a subject of\ngreat perplexity, involving the psychological problem of the connection\nof the divine and the human in life generally.  If in the last resort\nGod is the ultimate source of all life, the absolute Being, who\n\n  'Can rejoice in naught\n  Save only in Himself and what Himself hath wrought';\n\nthat truth must be held in harmony with the facts of divine immanence\nand human experience.  The divine spirit holds within His grasp all\nreality, and by His self-communicating activity makes the world of\nnature and of life possible.  But that being granted, how are we to\nconceive the relation of that Spirit to man with his distinct\nindividuality, with {170} his sense of working out a future and a fate\nin which the Absolute may indeed be fulfilling its purpose, but which\nare none the less man's own achievement?  That is the crux of the\nproblem.  The outstanding fact which bears upon this problem is the\ngeneral character of our experience, the growth of which is not the\nmere laying of additional material upon a passive subject by an\nexternal power, but is a true development, a process in which the\nsubject is himself operative in the unfolding of his own\npotentialities.  Without dwelling further upon this question it may be\nwell to bear in mind two points: (1) The growth of experience is a\ngradual entrance into conscious possession of what we implicitly are\nand potentially have from the beginning.  Duty, for example, is not\nsomething alien from a man, something superimposed by a power not\nhimself.  It lies implicit in his nature as his ideal and vocation.\nThe moral life is the life in which a man comes to 'know himself,' to\napprehend himself as he truly is.  (2) In this development of\nexperience we ourselves are active and self-organising.  We are really\nmaking ourselves, and are conscious, that even while we are the\ninstruments of a higher power, we are working out our own\nindividuality, exercising our own freedom and determination.[7]  The\nteaching of the New Testament is in full accord with this position.\nIf, on the one hand, St. Paul states that every moral impulse is due to\nthe inspiration of God, no less emphatic is he in ascribing to man\nhimself full freedom of action.  'The ethical sense of responsibility,'\nsays Johannes Weiss,[8] 'the energy for struggle, and the discipline of\nthe will were not paralysed nor absorbed in Paul's case by his\nconsciousness of redemption and his profound spiritual experiences.'\nScripture lends no support to the idea which some forms of Augustinian\ntheology assume, that the divine spirit is an irresistible force acting\nfrom without upon man and superseding his exertions.  It acts as an\nimmanent moral power, not compelling or crushing the will, but\nquickening and inspiring its efforts.\n\n{171}\n\nIf we inquire what constitutes the subjective or human element in the\nmaking of the new life, we find that the New Testament emphasises three\nmain factors--Repentance, Faith, and Obedience.  These are\ncomplementary, and together constitute what is commonly called\n'conversion.'\n\n1.  _Repentance_ is a turning away in sorrow and contrition from a life\nof sin, a breaking off from evil because a better standard has been\naccepted.  Our Lord began His ministry with a call to repentance.  The\nfirst four beatitudes set forth its elements; while the parable of the\nprodigal illustrates its nature.\n\nEthical writers distinguish between a negative and a positive aspect of\nrepentance.  On its negative side it is regarded as the emotion of\nsorrow excited by reflection upon sin.  But sorrow, though accompanying\nrepentance, must not be identified with it.  Mere regret, either in the\nform of bitterness over one's folly, or chagrin on account of\ndiscovery, may be but a weak sentiment which exerts little or no\ninfluence upon a man's subsequent conduct.  Even remorse following the\ncommission of wickedness may only deepen into a paralysing despair\nwhich works death rather than repentance unto life.\n\n(1) On its positive side repentance implies action as well as feeling,\nand involves a determination of will to quit the past and start on a\nnew life.  A man repents not merely when he grieves over his misdeed,\nbut when he confesses it and seeks to make what amendment he can.  This\npositive outlook upon the future, rather than the passive brooding over\nthe past, is happily expressed in the New Testament term _metanoia_,\nchange of mind, and is enforced in the Baptist's counsel, 'Bring forth\nfruits meet for repentance.'[9]  The change of mind here indicated is\npractically equivalent to what is variously called in the New Testament\n'Conversion,'[10] 'Renewal,'[11] 'Regeneration,'[12]--words suggestive\nof the completeness of the change.\n\n(2) The variety of terms employed to describe conversion {172} would\nseem to imply that the Scriptures recognise a diversity of mode.  All\ndo not enter the kingdom of God by the same way; and the New Testament\noffers examples varying from the sudden conversion of a Saul to the\nalmost imperceptible transformation of a Nathaniel and a Timothy.  In\nmodern life something of the same variety of Christian experience is\nmanifest.  While what is called 'sudden conversion' cannot reasonably\nbe denied,[13] as little can those cases be ignored in which the truth\nseems to pervade the mind gradually and almost unconsciously--cases of\nsteady spiritual growth from childhood upwards, in which the believer\nis unaware of any break in the continuity of his inner history, his\ndays appearing to be 'bound each to each by natural piety.'\n\n(3) The question arises, Which is the normal experience?  The matter\nhas been put somewhat bluntly by the late Professor James,[14] as to\nwhether the 'twice-born' or the 'once-born' present the natural type of\nChristian experience.  Is it true, he asks, that the experience of St.\nPaul, which has so long dominated Christian teaching, is really the\nhigher or even the healthier mode of approaching religion?  Does not\nthe example of Jesus offer a simpler and more natural ideal?  The moral\nexperience of the Son of Man was not a revolution but an evolution.\nHis own religion was not that of the twice-born, and all that He asked\nof His disciples was the childlike mind.[15]  Paul, the man of cities,\nfeels a kindred turbulence within himself.  Jesus, the interpreter of\nnature, feels the steady persuasiveness of the sunshine of God, and\ngrows from childhood in stature, wisdom, and favour with God and man.\nIt is contended by some that the whole Pauline conception of sin is a\nnightmare, and rests upon ideas of God and man which are unworthy and\nuntrue.  'As a matter of fact,' says Sir Oliver Lodge, 'the higher man\nof to-day is not worrying about his sins at all, still less about their\npunishment; his mission, if he is good for anything, is to be up and\ndoing.'[16] {173} This amounts to a claim for the superiority of the\nfirst of the two types of religious consciousness, the type which James\ndescribes as 'sky-blue souls whose affinities are with flowers and\nbirds and all enchanting innocencies than with dark human passions;\n. . . in whom religious gladness, being in possession from the outset,\nneeds no deliverance from any antecedent burden.'[17]  The second type\nis marked by a consciousness, similar to St. Paul's, of the divided\nself.  It starts from radical pessimism.  It only attains to religious\npeace through great tribulation.  It is the religion of the 'sick soul'\nas contrasted with that of 'healthy-mindedness.'  But, morbid as it may\nappear, to be disturbed by past sin, it is really the 'twice-born' who\nhave sounded the depths of the human heart, and have been the greatest\nreligious leaders.  And so far from the sense of the need of repentance\nbeing the sign of a diseased mind, the decreasing consciousness of sin\nin our day may only prove the shallowness of the modern mind.  What men\nneed of religion is power.  And there is a danger of people to-day\nlosing a sense of the dynamic force of the older Gospel.[18]\n\nBut whether Paul's case is abnormal or the reverse, it is surely a\nfalse inference that, because Christ grew up without the need of\nconversion, His life affords in this respect a pattern to sinful men.\nIt is just His perfect union with God which differentiates Him entirely\nfrom ordinary men; and that which may be necessary for sinful creatures\nis unthinkable in His case.  What He was we are to become.  But before\nwe can follow Him, there is for us, because of sin, a preliminary\nstep--a breaking with our evil past.  And, in all His teaching our Lord\nclearly recognises this.  His first call is a call to repentance.  It\nis indeed the childlike mind He requires; but He significantly says\nthat 'except _ye turn_ and become as little children, ye shall in no\nwise enter the kingdom of heaven.'[19]\n\nThe decision of will demanded of Jesus, while it may not {174}\nnecessarily involve a catastrophe of life or convulsion of nature, must\nbe none the less a deliberate and decisive turning from evil to good.\nBy what road a man must travel before he enters the kingdom, through\nwhat convulsion of spirit be must pass, so frequently dwelt upon by St.\nPaul and illustrated by his own life, Christ does not say.  In the\nFourth Gospel there is one reported saying describing a process of\nspiritual agony, like that of physical child-birth, indicative that the\nchange must be radical, and that at some point of experience the great\ndecision must be made, a decision which is likely to involve deep\ntravail of soul.\n\nThere are many ways in which a man may become a Christian.  Some men\nhave to undergo, like Paul, fierce inward conflict.  Others glide\nquietly, almost imperceptibly, into richer and ampler regions of life.\nBut when or how the transition is made, whether the renewal be sudden\nor gradual, it is the same victory in all cases that must be won, the\nvictory of the spirit over the flesh, the 'putting off of the old man'\nand the 'putting on of the new.'  Life cannot be always a compromise.\nSooner or later it must become an alternative.  He who has seen the\nhigher self can be no longer content with the lower.  The acts of\ncontrition, confession, and decision--essential and successive steps in\nrepentance--are the immediate effects of the vision of Christ.  Though\nrepentance is indeed a human activity, here, as always, the earlier\nimpulse comes from the divine side.  He who truly repents is already in\nthe grip of Christ.  'We love Him because He first loved us.'\n\n2.  _Faith_.--If repentance looks back and forsakes the old, faith\nlooks forward and accepts the new.  Even in repentance there is already\nan element of faith, for a man cannot turn away from his evil past\nwithout having some sense of contrast between the actual and the\npossible, some vision of the better life which he feels to be desirable.\n\n(1) While there is no more characteristic word in the New Testament\nthan faith, there is none which is used in a greater variety of senses,\nor whose import it is more difficult to determine.  It must not be\nforgotten at the outset {175} that though it is usually regarded as a\ntheological term, it is a purely human act, and represents an element\nin ordinary life without which the world could not hold together for a\nsingle day.  We constantly live by faith, and in our common intercourse\nwith our fellows we daily exercise this function.  We have an\nirresistible conviction that we live in a rational world in which\neffect answers to cause.  Faith, it has been said, is the capital of\nall reasoning.  Break down this principle, and logic itself would be\nbankrupt.  Those who have denied the intelligibility of the universe\nhave not been able to dispense with the very organ by which their\nargument is conducted.  Hence faith in its religious sense is of the\nsame kind as faith in common life.  It is distinguishable only by its\n_special object_ and its _moral intensity_.\n\n(2) The habitual relationship between Christ and His disciples was one\nof mutual confidence.  While Jesus evidently trusts them, they regard\nHim as their Master on whose word they wholly rely.  Ever invested with\na deep mystery and awe, He is always for His disciples the embodiment\nof all that is highest and holiest, the supreme object of reverence,\nthe ultimate source of authority.  Peter but expresses the mind of the\ncompany when he says, 'To whom can we go but unto Thee, Thou hast the\nwords of eternal life.'  Nor was it only the disciples who manifested\nthis personal trust.  Many others, the Syrophenician woman, the Roman\nCenturion, Zacchaeus, Bartimaeus, also evinced it.  It was, indeed, to\nthis element in the human heart that Jesus invariably appealed; and\nwhile He was quick to detect its presence, He was equally sensitive to\nits absence.  Even among the twelve, when, in the face of some new\nemergency, there was evidence of mistrust, He exclaimed, 'O ye of\nlittle faith.'  And when, beyond His own immediate circle, He met with\nsuspicion and unbelief, it caused Him surprise and pain.[20]\n\nFrom these and other incidents it is obvious that faith for Jesus had a\nvariety of meanings and degrees.\n\n{176}\n\n(_a_) Sometimes it meant simply _trust in divine providence_; as when\nHe bids His disciples take no thought for their lives, because He who\nfeeds the ravens and clothes the lilies cares for them.  (_b_) It meant\nagain _belief in His own divine power_; as when He assures the\nrecipients of His healing virtue that their faith hath made them whole.\n(_c_) It is regarded by Jesus as _a condition of forgiveness and\nsalvation_.  Thus to the woman who had sinned He said, 'Thy faith hath\nsaved thee,' and to the man who was sick of the palsy, 'Son, thy sins\nbe forgiven thee.'[21]\n\nThe essential and vital mark in all Christ's references is the personal\nappropriation of the good which He Himself had brought to man.  In His\nvarious modes of activity--in His discourses, His works of healing and\nforgiveness--it is not too much to say that Jesus regarded Himself as\nthe embodiment of God's message to the world; and to welcome His word\nwith confidence and joy, and unhesitatingly act upon it, was faith.\nHence it did not mean merely the mental acceptance of some abstract\ntruth, but, before all else, personal and intimate devotion to Himself.\nIt seems the more necessary to emphasise this point since Harnack has\naffirmed 'that, while Christ was the special object of faith for Paul\nand the other apostles, He did not enter as an element into His own\npreaching, and did not solicit faith towards Himself.'[22]  It is\nindeed true that Jesus frequently associated Himself with His Father,\nwhose immediate representative He claims to be.  But no one can doubt\nthat He also asserts authority and power on His own account, and\nsolicits faith on His own behalf.  Nor does He take pains, even when\nchallenged, to explain that He was but the agent of another.  On the\ncontrary, as we have seen, He acts in His own right, and pronounces the\nblessings of healing and forgiveness in His own name.  Even when the\nword 'Faith' is not mentioned the whole attitude and spirit of Jesus\nimpels us to the same conclusion.  There was an air of independence and\nauthority {177} about Him which filled His disciples and others, not\nmerely with confidence, but with wonder and awe.  His repeated word is,\n'I say unto you.'  And there is a class of sayings which clearly\nindicate the supreme significance which He attached to His own\npersonality as an object of faith.  Foremost among these is the great\ninvitation, 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and\nI will give you rest.'\n\n(3) If we turn to the epistles, and especially to the Pauline, we are\nstruck by the apparently changed meaning of faith.  It has become more\ncomplex and technical.  It is no longer simply the receptive relation\nof the soul towards Christ; it is also a justifying principle.  Faith\nnot only unites the believer to Christ, it also translates him into a\nnew sphere and creates for him a new environment.  The past is\ncancelled.  All things have become new.  The man of faith has passed\nout of the dominion of law into the kingdom of Grace.\n\nThe Pauline doctrine of Justification by Faith has received in the\nhistory of the Church a twofold interpretation.  On the one hand, it\nhas been maintained that the sole significance of faith is that it\ngives to the believer power, by God's supernatural aid, to realise a\ngoodness of which he is naturally incapable.  On the other hand, it is\nheld that the peculiarity of faith is that, though he himself is a\nsinner deserving condemnation, it affords to the believer an assurance\nof the favour with which a loving Father regards him, not on account of\nhis own attainments, but in virtue of the perfect obedience of the Son\nof God with whom each is united by faith.  The former is the more\ndistinctively Roman view; the latter that of the Reformed Church.\nWhile the Catholic form of the doctrine gives to 'works' a place not\nless important than faith in justification, the Protestant exalts\n'faith' to the position of priority as more in harmony with the mystery\nof the atoning sacrifice of Christ as expounded by St. Paul.  Faith\njustifies, because it is for the Christian the vision of an ideal.\nWhat we admire in another is already implicitly within us.  We {178}\nalready possess the righteousness we believe in.  The moral beauty of\nChrist is ours inasmuch as we are linked to Him by faith, and have\naccepted as our true self all that He is and has achieved.  Hence faith\nis not merely the sight of the ideal in Christ.  It is the energy of\nthe soul as well, by which the believer strives to realise that which\nhe admires.  According to the teaching of Scripture faith has thus a\nthreefold value.  It is a receptive attitude, a justifying principle,\nand an energising power.  It is that by which the believer accepts and\nappropriates the gift of Life offered by God in Christ.\n\n3.  _Obedience_.--Faith contains the power of a new obedience.  But\nfaith worketh by love.  The soul's surrender to Christ is the crowning\nphase of man's response.  The obedience of love is the natural sequel\nof repentance and faith, the completing act of consecration.  As God\ngives Himself in Christ to man, so man yields in Christ to God all he\nis and all he has.\n\nWithout enlarging upon the nature of this final act of self-surrender,\nthree points of ethical value ought not to be overlooked.\n\n(1) Obedience is an _activity_ of the soul by which the believer\nappropriates the life of God.  Life is not merely a gift, it is a task,\nan achievement.  We are not simply passive recipients of the Good, but\nfree and determinative agents who react upon what is given, taking it\nup into our life and working it into the texture of our character.  The\nobedience of love is the practical side of faith.  While God imparts\nthe energy of the Spirit, we apply it and by strenuous endeavour and\nunceasing effort mould our souls and make our world.\n\n(2) It is a consecration of the _whole personality_.  All the powers of\nman are engaged in soul-making.  Religion is not a detached region of\nexperience, a province separate from the incidents and occupations of\nordinary existence.  Obedience must cover the whole of life, and\ndemands the exercise and devotion of every gift.  Not only is every\nthought to be brought into subjection to the mind of {179} Christ, but\nevery passion and desire, every activity and power of body and mind are\nto be consecrated to God and transformed into instruments of service.\n'Our wills are ours to make them thine.'  But the will is not a\nseparate faculty; it is the whole man.  And the obedience of the will\nis nothing less than the response of our entire manhood to the will of\nGod.\n\n(3) Finally, obedience is a _growing power of assimilation_ to Christ.\nWe grow in the Christian life according to the measure of our faith and\nthe exercise of our love.  The spiritual world is potentially ours at\nthe beginning of the Christian life, but it has to be worked out in\ndaily experience.  Like every other form of existence spiritual life is\na growth which only attains to strength and fruition through continual\nconflict and achievement.  The soul is not a finished product.  In\npatience it is to be acquired.[23]  By trial and temptation, by toil\nand expenditure, through all the hardships and hazards of daily life\nits value is determined and its destiny shaped.  And according to the\nmeasure in which we use these experiences, and transmute them by\nobedience to the will of God into means of good, do we grow in\nChristian character and approximate to the full stature of the perfect\nMan.\n\nTo this self-determining activity Eucken has given the name of\n'Activism.'  'The basis of a true life,' says this writer, 'must be\ncontinually won anew.'[24]  Activism acquires ethical character\ninasmuch as it involves the taking up of the spiritual world into our\nown volition and being.  Only by this ceaseless endeavour do we advance\nto fresh attainments of the moral life, and are enabled to assimilate\nthe divine as revealed to us in Christ.  Nor is it merely the\nindividual self that is thus enriched and developed by obedience to the\nwill of God.  By personal fidelity to the highest we are aiding the\nmoral development of mankind, and are furthering the advancement of all\nthat is good and true in the world.  Not only are we making {180} our\nown character, but we are helping to build up the kingdom of God upon\nthe earth.\n\nRepentance, Faith, and Obedience are thus the human factors of the new\nlife.  They are the moral counterparts of Grace.  God gives and man\nappropriates.  By repentance we turn from sin and self to the true home\nof our soul in the Fatherhood of God.  By faith we behold in Christ the\nvision of the ideal self.  By obedience and the daily surrender of\nourselves to the divine will we transform the vision into the reality.\nThey are all manifestations of love, the responsive notes of the human\nheart to the appeal of divine love.\n\n\n\n[1] Irenaeus, _Contra Haereses_, III. xviii. 1.\n\n[2] Matt. xx. 28; John xi. 51; Matt. xxvi. 28; Mark xiv. 8, 9.\n\n[3] _The Analogy_, part II. chap. v.\n\n[4] 2 Cor. v. 14 f.; Rom. vi.; Ephes. iii. 16, 17, v. 8.\n\n[5] Gal. ii. 20.\n\n[6] Meyers, _Saint Paul_.\n\n[7] See Blewett, _The Christian View of the World_, pp. 88 ff., where\nthis subject is suggestively treated.\n\n[8] _Christ and Paul_.\n\n[9] Matt. iii. 8; Luke iii. 8.\n\n[10] Acts xxvi. 20.\n\n[11] Rom. xii. 12; Titus iii. 5.\n\n[12] 2 Cor. v. 17; Gal. vi. 15.\n\n[13] See Begbie, _Broken Earthenware_.\n\n[14] _Varieties of Relig. Experience_.\n\n[15] Mark x. 15.\n\n[16] _Man and the Universe_, p. 220.\n\n[17] _Varieties of Religious Experience_, p. 80.\n\n[18] Cf. _Foundations: a Statement of Religious Belief by seven Oxford\nmen_, Essay VI., pp. 274 f.\n\n[19] Matt. xviii. 3.\n\n[20] Matt. xiii. 58; Mark vi. 5.\n\n[21] Cf. Stalker, _The Ethic of Jesus_, p. 179.\n\n[22] _Das Wesen des Christenthums_, p. 91, quoted by Stalker, _idem_,\np. 176.\n\n[23] Luke xxi. 19.\n\n[24] _Life's Basis and life's Ideal_, p. 255.\n\n\n\n\n{181}\n\nSECTION D\n\nCONDUCT\n\n{183}\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nVIRTUES AND VIRTUE\n\nSo far we have gained some conception of the Christian ideal as the\nhighest moral good, and have learned also how the Christian character is\nbrought into being.  We now enter upon a new section--the last stage of\nour inquiry--and have to consider the 'new man'--his virtues, duties, and\nrelationships.\n\nThe business lying immediately before us in this chapter is to consider\nthe accepted standards in which the Christian good is exhibited--the\nvirtues recognised by the Christian consciousness.\n\nWhat, then, are the particular forms or manifestations of character which\nresult from the Christian interpretation of life?  When we think of man\nas living in relation to his fellows, and engaging in the common\nactivities of the world, what are the special traits of character which\ndistinguish the Christian?  These questions suggest one of the most\nimportant, and at the same time one of the most difficult, tasks of\nChristian Ethics--the classification of the virtues.  The difficulty\narises in the first instance from the ambiguity attaching to the term\n'virtue.'  It is often loosely used to signify a meritorious act--as in\nthe phrase, 'making a virtue of a necessity.'  It is frequently employed\ngenerally for a moral quality or excellency of character, and in this\nrespect is contrasted with vice.  Finally, virtues are sometimes\nidentified with duties.  Thus we speak of the virtue of veracity.  But\nobviously we may also refer to the duty of veracity.  The word _arete_;\nsignifies 'force,' and was originally used as a property of bodies,\nplants, or animals.  {184} At first it had no ethical import.  In Attic\nusage it came to signify aptness or fitness of manhood for public life.\nAnd this signification has shaped the future meaning of its Latin\nequivalent--_virtus_ (from _vis_, strength, and not from _vir_, a man).\n\nPlato gave to the term a certain ethical value in connection with his\nmoral view of the social life, so that Ethics came to be designated the\ndoctrine of virtues.  In general, however, both by the Greek and Roman\nmoralists, and particularly the Stoics, the word _virtus_ retained\nsomething of the sense of force or capacity--a quality prized in the\ncitizen.  The English word is a direct transcript of the Latin.  The\nGerman noun, _Tugend_ (from _taugen_, to fit) means capability, and is\nrelated to worth, honour, manliness.  The word _arete_ does not\nfrequently occur in the New Testament.[1]  In the few passages in which\nit appears it is associated with praiseworthiness.  In one passage[2] it\nhas a more distinctly ethical signification--'add to your faith\nvirtue'--where the idea is that of practical worth or manhood.\n\nVirtue may be defined as the acquired power or capacity for moral action.\nFrom the Christian point of view virtue is the complement, or rather the\noutcome, of grace.  Hence virtues are graces.  In the Christian sense a\nman is not virtuous when he has first appropriated by faith the new\nprinciple of life.  He has within him, indeed, the promise and potency of\nall forms of goodness, but not until he has consciously brought his\npersonal impulses and faculties into the service of Christ can he be\ncalled truly virtuous.  Hence the Christian character is only\nprogressively realised.  On the divine side virtue is a gift.  On the\nhuman side it is an activity.  Our Lord's figure of the vine and the\nbranches represents the relation in which Christian character stands to\nChrist.  In like manner St. Paul regards the manifestations of the\nChristian life as the fruit of the Spirit--the inevitable and natural\noutgrowth of the divine seed of life implanted in the heart.  Hence\narises the importance of {185} cultivating the inner life of the spirit\nwhich is the root of all moral excellency.  On the other hand it must be\nremembered that Christian morality is not of a different sort from\nnatural morality, and the Christian virtues are not merely supernatural\nqualities added on, but simply human virtues coloured and transfigured by\ngrace and raised to a higher value.  The power to act morally, the\ncapacity to bring all our faculties into the service of the spiritual\nlife, is the ground of Christian virtue just as it is of every natural\nexcellence.  From this it follows that the distinction sometimes made\nbetween natural goodness and Christian goodness is unsound.  A virtue is\nnot a superlative act of merit, implying an excess of excellence beyond\nthe requirements of duty.  From the Christian standpoint there are no\nworks of supererogation, and there is no room in the Christian life for\nexcess or margin.  As every duty is a bounden duty, so every possible\nexcellence is demanded of the Christian.  Virtues prescribe duties;\nideals become laws; and the measure is, 'Be ye perfect as your Father in\nheaven is perfect.'  The Stoic maxim, 'Nothing in excess,' is inadequate\nin reference to moral excellence, and Aristotle's doctrine of the 'Mean'\ncan hardly be applied without considerable distortion of facts.  The only\nvirtue which with truth can be described as a form of moderation is\nTemperance.  It has been objected that by his doctrine of the 'Mean'\nAristotle 'obliterates the awful and absolute difference between right\nand wrong.'  If we substitute, as Kant suggested, 'law' for 'mean,' some\nof the ambiguity is obviated.  Still, after all extenuation is made it\nmay be questioned whether any term implying quantity is a fit expression\nfor a moral attribute.[3]\n\nAt the same time the virtues must not be regarded as mere abstractions.\nMoral qualities cannot be isolated from the circumstances in which they\nare exercised.  Virtue is character in touch with life, and it is only in\ncontact with actual events that its quality can be determined.  Actions\nare not simply good or bad in themselves.  They must {186} always be\nvalued both by their inner motives and intended ends.  Courage or\nveracity, for example, may be exercised from different causes and for the\nmost various ends, and occasionally even for those of an immoral\nnature.[4]\n\nFor these and similar reasons some modern ethical writers have regarded\nthe classification of the virtues as unsatisfactory, involving arbitrary\nand illogical distinctions in value; and some have even discarded the use\nof the word 'virtue' altogether, and substituted the word 'character' as\nthe subject of ethical study.  But inasmuch as character must manifest\nitself in certain forms, and approximate at least to certain norms or\nideals of conduct, it may not be altogether superfluous to consider in\ntheir relation and unity those moral qualities (whether we call them\nvirtues, graces, or norms of excellence) which the Christian aims at\nreproducing in his life.\n\nWe shall consider therefore, first, the natural elements of virtue as\nthey have been disclosed to us by classical teachers.  Next, we shall\ncompare these with the Christian conception of life, showing how\nChristianity has given to them a new meaning and value.  And finally, we\nshall endeavour to reveal the unifying principle of the virtues by\nshowing that when transformed by the Christian spirit they are the\nexpressions or implicates of a single spiritual disposition or totality\nof character.\n\n\nI\n\n_The Natural Basis of the Virtues_.--At a certain stage of reflection\nthere arises an effort not merely to designate, but to co-ordinate the\nvirtues.  For it is soon discovered that all the various aspects of the\ngood have a unity, and that the idea of virtue as one and conscious is\nequivalent to the idea of the good-will or of purity of heart.  Thus it\nwas seen by the followers of Socrates that the virtues are but different\nexpressions of one principle, and that the ultimate good of character can\nonly be realised by the actual pursuit {187} of it in the recognised\nvirtues.  We do not sufficiently reflect, says Green, how great was the\nservice which Greek philosophy rendered to mankind.  From Plato and\nAristotle comes the connected scheme of virtues and duties within which\nthe educated conscience of Christendom still moves when it is impartially\nreflecting on what ought to be done.[5]  Religious teachers may have\nextended the scope of our obligations, and strengthened the motives which\nactuate men in the performance of duty, but 'the articulated scheme of\nwhat the virtues and duties are, in their difference and their unity,\nremains for us now in its main outlines what the Greek philosophers left\nit.'[6]\n\nAmong ancient moralists four virtues, Wisdom, Courage, Temperance,\nJustice were constantly grouped.  They were already traditional in\nPlato's time, but he adopts them as fundamental.  Aristotle retained\nPlato's list, but developed from it some minor excellences.\n\nVirtue, according to Plato, was the health or harmony of the soul; hence\nthe principle of classification was determined by the fitness of the soul\nfor its proper task, which was conceived as the attainment of the good or\nthe morally beautiful.  As man has three functions or aspects, a\ncognitive, active, and appetitive, so there are three corresponding\nvirtues.  His function of knowing determines the primal virtue of Wisdom;\nhis active power constitutes the virtue of Courage; while his appetitive\nnature calls for the virtue of Temperance or Self-control.  These three\nvirtues have reference to the individual's personal life.  But inasmuch\nas a man is a part of a social organism, and has relations to others\nbeyond himself, justice was conceived by Plato as the social virtue, the\nvirtue which regulated and harmonised all the others.  For the Stoics\nthese four virtues embraced the whole life according to nature.  It may\nbe noticed that Plato and Aristotle did not profess to have created the\nvirtues.  Wisdom, fortitude, temperance, and justice were, as they\nbelieved, radical principles of the moral nature; and all they professed\nto do was to {188} awaken men to the consciousness of their natural\ncapacities.  If a man was to attain to fitness of life, then these were\nthe fundamental and essential lines on which his rational life must\ndevelop.  In every conceivable world these are the basal elements of\ngoodness.  Related as they are to fundamental functions of personality,\nthey cannot be less or more.  They stand for the irreducible principles\nof conduct, to omit any one of which is to present a maimed or only\npartial character.  In every rational conception of life they must remain\nthe essential and desirable objects of pursuit.  It was not wonderful,\ntherefore, when we remember the influence of Greek thought upon early\nChristianity, that the four classical virtues should pass over into\nChristian Ethics.  But the Church, recognising that these virtues had\nreference to man's life in relation to himself and his fellow-men in this\nworld alone, added to these the three Pauline Graces, Faith, Hope, and\nCharity, as expressive of the divine element in man, his relation to God\nand the spiritual world.  The first four were called natural, the last\nthree supernatural: or the 'Cardinal' (_cardo_, a hinge) and the\n'Theological' virtues.  They make in all seven, the mystic perfect\nnumber, and over against these, to complete the symmetry of life, were\nplaced the seven deadly sins.\n\n\nII\n\n_Their Christian Transformation_.--But now if we compare the cardinal\nvirtues with the conception of goodness revealed in Scripture, we are at\nonce conscious of a contrast.  We seem to move in a new atmosphere, and\nto be confronted with a view of life in which entirely different values\nhold.\n\n1.  While in the New Testament many virtues are commended, no complete\ndescription occurs in any single passage.  The beatitudes may be regarded\nas our Lord's catalogue of the typical qualities of life, and a\ndevelopment of virtuous life might be worked out from the Sermon on the\nMount.  Beginning with poverty of spirit, {189} humility, and meekness,\nand rising up out of the individual struggle of the inner man, we attain\nto mercifulness and peaceableness--the spirit which bears the poverty of\nothers, and seeks to make others meek and gentle.  Next the desire for\nrighteousness finds expression in a readiness to endure persecution, to\nsupport the burden of duty in the midst of worldly conflict; and finally\nin the highest stage the light of virtue shines through the clouds of\nstruggle and breaks forth spontaneously, irradiating all who come into\ncontact with it, and constituting man the servant of humanity, the light\nof the world.[7]  Or we might turn to the apostle Paul, who regards the\nvirtues as the fruit of the Spirit, describing them in general as 'love,\njoy, peace, long-suffering, goodness, faith, gentleness, humility.'[8]  A\nrich cluster is also mentioned as 'the fruit of light'--goodness,\nrighteousness, truth.  A further enumeration is given in Colossians where\nthe apostle commends compassion, kindness, humility, meekness,\nlong-suffering, forbearance, and forgiveness.[9]  And once more there is\nthe often-quoted series in the Epistle to the Philippians, 'Whatsoever\nthings are true, reverent, just, chaste, lovely, and kindly spoken\nof.'[10]  Nor must we forget the characteristics of love presented in the\napostle's 'Hymn of Charity.'[11]  To these descriptions of St. Paul there\nought to be added the remarkable passage in which St. Peter unfolds the\nprocess of the moral life from its seed to the perfect flower.[12]\nThough the authorship of this passage has been disputed, that fact does\nnot make the representation less trustworthy and typical as an exhibition\nof early Christian morality.  According to this picture, just as in St.\nPaul's view, the whole moral life has its root in faith, and character is\nnothing else than the working out of the initial energy of the soul into\nvirtue, knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness, brotherly kindness,\nand charity--all that makes life worthy and excellent.  Character is not\nbuilt like a house, by the addition of stone to stone.  It is evolved as\n{190} a plant from a seed.  Given faith, there will ultimately emerge all\nthe successive qualities of true goodness--knowledge, temperance,\npatience--the personal virtues, rising upwards to godliness or the love\nof God, and widening out to brotherhood, and thence to charity or a love\nof mankind--a charity which embraces the whole world, even those who are\nnot Christian: the enemy, the outcast, and the alien.\n\nThese descriptions are not formal or systematic, but are characterised by\na remarkable similarity in spirit and tone.  They all reflect the mind of\nChrist, and put the emphasis where Jesus Himself invariably laid it--on\nlove.  But the point to which we desire to draw attention is the contrast\nbetween the classical and the Christian type of virtue.  The difference\nis commonly expressed by saying that the pagan virtues were of a bold\nmasculine order, whereas the Christian excellences are of an amiable and\npassive nature.\n\nYet if we carefully examine the lists as given in Scripture, we shall see\nthat this is hardly a just distinction.  Certainly Christianity brings to\nthe front some virtues of a gentle type which are apparently wanting in\nthe Platonic catalogue.  But, on the other hand, the pagan virtues are\nnot excluded from the New Testament.  They have an acknowledged place in\nChristian morality.  Fortitude and temperance, not to speak of wisdom and\njustice, are recognised as essential qualities of the Christian\ncharacter.  Christianity did not come into the world as the negative of\nall that was previously noble in human nature; on the contrary, it took\nover everything that was good and true, and gave to it a legitimate\nplace.  Whatsoever things, says the apostle, are true and just and fair,\nif there be any virtue or praise in them, think of these things.\n\nCourage is not disparaged by Christianity.  In writing to Timothy Paul\ngives to this virtue its original significance.  He only raises it to a\nhigher level, and gives to it a nobler end--the determination not to be\nashamed of bearing testimony, and the readiness to suffer hardship for\nthe Gospel's sake.  And though the apostle does not expressly {191}\ncommend courage in its active form in any other passage, we may gather\nfrom the whole tenor of his life that bravery, fortitude, endurance,\noccupied a high place in his esteem.  While he made no parade of his\nsufferings his life was a continual warfare for the Gospel.  The courage\nof a man is none the less real because it is evinced not on the\nbattlefield, but in the conflict of righteousness.  He who devotes\nhimself unnoticed and unrewarded, at the risk of his life and at the\nsacrifice of every pleasure, to the service of the sick and the debased,\npossesses courage the same in principle as that of the 'brave man'\ndescribed by Aristotle.  Life is a battle, and there are other objects\nfor which a man must contend than those peculiar to a military calling.\nIn all circumstances of his existence the Christian must quit himself as\na man, and without courage no one can fulfil in any tolerable degree the\nduties of his station.\n\nIn like manner temperance or self-control is a truly Christian virtue,\nand it finds repeated mention in Scripture.  When, however, we compare\nthe conception of temperance as formulated by Aristotle with the demand\nof self-denial which the enlightened Christian conscience makes upon\nitself we are struck with a difference both in the motive and the scope\nof the principle.  Temperance as Aristotle conceived it was a virtue\nexhibited only in dealing with the animal passions.  And the reason why\nthis indulgence ought to be checked was that the lusts of the flesh\nunfitted a man for his discharge of the civic duties.  But, in view of\nthe Greek idea that evil resides in the physical constitution of man, the\nlogical deduction would be the total suppression of the animal passions\naltogether.  But from the Christian standpoint the physical instincts are\nnot an evil to be crushed, but rather a legitimate element in man which\nis to be disciplined and brought into the service of the spiritual life.\nTemperance covers the whole range of moral activity.  It means the\npractical mastery of self, and includes the proper control and employment\nof hand and eye, tongue and temper, tastes and affections, so that they\nmay become effective instruments of righteousness.  The practice of {192}\nasceticism for its own sake, or abstinence dictated merely by fear of\nsome painful result of indulgence, we do not now regard as a virtue.  The\ntrue form of self-denial we deem to be only rendered when we forbid\nourselves the enjoyment of certain legitimate inclinations for the sake\nof some higher interest.  Thus the scope of the virtue of temperance has\nbeen greatly enlarged, and we present to ourselves objects of moral\nloyalty, for the sake of which we are ready to abandon our desires in a\nfar greater variety of forms than ever occurred to the Greek.  An\nindulgence, for example, which a man might legitimately allow himself, he\nforgoes in consideration of the claims of his family, or fellow-workmen,\nor for the good of mankind at large, in a way that the ancient world\ncould not understand.  Christian temperance, while the same in principle\nwith the ancient virtue, penetrates life more deeply, and is fraught with\na richer and more positive content than was contemplated by the Greek\ndemand.\n\nAnd the same may be said of the virtues of Wisdom and Justice.  Wisdom is\na New Testament grace, but mere calculating prudence or worldly\nself-regard finds no place in the Christian scheme of life.  We are\nenjoined, indeed, to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves in our\nrelations with men; but what we are urged to cultivate is a mind for the\nright interpretation of the things of God, that spiritual insight which\ndiscerns the things of the Spirit; and, while recognising life as a\ndivinely given trust, seeks to obtain a wise understanding of our duties\ntoward God and man.\n\nWhile the other virtues are to a certain extent self-regarding, Justice\nis eminently social.  At the very lowest it means 'equal consideration'\nfor all, treating, as Kant would say, every man as an 'end,' and not as a\nmeans.  Morally no man may disregard the claims of others.  It is said,\nindeed, that we must be 'just before we are generous.'  But a full and\nperfect conception of Justice involves generosity.  There is no such\nthing as bare justice.  Righteousness, which is the New Testament\nequivalent, demands more than negative goodness, and in Christian Ethics\n{193} passes over into Charity, which finds and fulfils itself in others.\nLove here and always is the fulfilling of the law, and mercy,\nbenevolence, kindness are the implicates of true justice.\n\n2.  It is thus evident that the cardinal virtues are essential elements\nof Christian character.  Christianity, in taking over the moral\nconceptions of the ancient world, gave to them a new value and range by\ndirecting them to new objects and enthusing them with new motives.  It\nhas been truly said that the religion of Jesus so profoundly modified the\ncharacter of the moral ideals of the past that they became largely new\ncreations.  The old moral currency was still kept in circulation, but it\nwas gradually minted anew.[13]  Fortitude is still the cool and steady\nbehaviour of a man in the presence of danger; but its range is widened by\nthe inclusion of perils of the soul as well as the body.  Temperance is\nstill the control of the physical passions; but it is also the right\nplacing of new affections, and the consecration of our impulses to nobler\nends.  Justice is still the suppression of conflict with the rights of\nothers; but the source of it lies in giving to God the love which is His\ndue, and finding in the objects of His thought the subjects also of our\ncare.  Wisdom is still the practical sense which chooses the proper\ncourse of action; but it is no longer a selfish calculation of advantage,\nbut the wisdom of men who are seeking for themselves and others not\nmerely temporal good, but a kingdom which is not of this world.\n\nThe real reason, then, why Christianity seems by contrast to accentuate\nthe gentler graces is not simply as a protest against the spirit of\nmilitarism and the worship of physical power, so prevalent in the ancient\nworld--not merely that they were neglected--but because they and they\nalone, rightly considered, are of the very essence of that perfection of\ncharacter which God has revealed to man in Christ.  What Christianity has\ndone is not to give pre-eminence to one class over another, but _to make\nhuman character complete_.  Ancient civilisation was one-sided in its\nmoral {194} development.  The pagan conceptions of virtue were merely\nmaterialistic, temporal, and self-regarding.  Christ showed that without\nthe spirit of love even such excellences as courage, temperance, and\njustice did not attain to their true meaning or yield their full\nimplication.  Paul, as we have seen, did not disparage heroism, but he\nthought that it was exhibited as much, if not more, in patience and\nforgiveness as in self-assertion and retaliation.  What Christianity\nreally revealed was a new type of manliness, a fresh application of\ntemperance, a fuller development of justice.  It showed the might of\nmeekness, the power of gentleness, the heroism of sacrifice.\n\n3.  It is thus misleading to say that Christian Ethics differs from\nancient morality in the prominence it gives to what have been called 'the\npassive virtues.'  Poverty of spirit, humility, meekness, mercifulness,\nand peaceableness are indeed the marks of Christ's teaching.  But as\nChrist conceived them they were not passive qualities, but intensely\nactive energies of the soul.  It has been well remarked that[14] there\nwas a poverty of spirit in the creed of the cynic centuries before\nChristianity.  There was a meekness in the doctrine of the Stoic long\nbefore the advent of Jesus.  But these tenets were very far from being\nanticipations of Christ's morality.  Cynic poverty of spirit was but the\npoor-spiritedness of apathy.  Stoic meekness was merely the indifference\nof oblivion.  But the humility and lowliness of heart, the mercifulness\nand peace-seeking which Christ inculcated were essentially powers of\nself-restraint, not negative but positive attitudes to life.  The motive\nwas not apathy but love.  These qualities were based not on the idea that\nlife was so poor and undesirable that it was not worthy of consideration,\nbut upon the conviction that it was so grand and noble, something so far\nbeyond either pleasure or pain, as to demand the devotion of the entire\nself--the mastery and consecration of all a man's powers in the\nfulfilment and service of its divine end.\n\nHence what Christianity did was not so much to institute {195} one type\nof character for another as to exhibit for the first time the complete\nconception of what human life should be--a new creature, in whom, as in\nits great Exemplar, strength and tenderness, courage and meekness,\njustice and mercy were alike combined.  For, as St. Paul said, in Christ\nJesus there is neither male nor female, but all are as one.  And in this\ncharacter, as the same apostle finely shows, faith, hope, and charity\nhave the primary place, not as special virtues which have been added on,\nbut as the spiritual disposition which penetrates the entire personality\nand qualifies its every thought and act.\n\n\nIII\n\n_The Unification of the Virtues_.--While it is desirable, then, to\nexhibit the virtues in detail, it is even more important to trace back\nthe virtues to virtue itself.  A man's duties are diverse, as diverse as\nthe various occasions and circumstances of life, and they can only come\ninto being with the various institutions of his time, Church and State,\nhome and country, commerce and culture.  But the performance of these may\nbe slowly building up in him a consistent personality.  It is in\ncharacter that the unity of the moral life is most clearly expressed.\nThere must be therefore a unity of character underlying the multiplicity\nof characteristics, one single and commanding principle at work in the\nformation of life of which every possible virtue is the expression.\n\n1.  A unity of this kind is supplied by man's relation to God.  Religion\ncannot be separated from conduct.  If it were true, as Epicurus said,\nthat the gods take no concern in human affairs, then not religion only,\nbut morality itself would be in danger.  As men's conceptions of God are\npurified and deepened, they tend to exhibit the varied contents of\nmorality in their connection with a diviner order.  It is, then, the\nthought of man's relation to God which gives coherence to the moral life,\nand brings all its diverse manifestations into unity.\n\n{196}\n\nIf we examine the Christian consciousness as presented in the New\nTestament, we find three words of frequent occurrence repeatedly grouped\ntogether, which may be regarded as the essential marks of Christian\ncharacter in relation to God--Faith, Hope, and Love.\n\nSo characteristic are these of the new life that they have been called\nthe theological virtues, because, as Thomas Aquinas says, 'They have God\nfor their object: they bring us into true relation to God, and they are\nimparted to us by God alone.'[15]\n\n2.  These graces, however, cannot be separated.  A man does not exercise\nat one time faith, and at another time hope or love.  They are all of a\npiece.  They are but different manifestations of one virtue.  Of these\nlove is the greatest, because it is that without which faith and hope\ncould not exist.  Love is of the very essence of the Christian life.  It\nis its secret and sign.  No other term is so expressive of the spirit of\nChrist.  It is the first and last word of apostolic Christianity.  Love\nmay be called the discovery of the Gospel.  It was practically unknown in\nthe ancient world.  _Eros_, the sensuous instinct and _philia_, the bond\nof friendship, did exist, but _agape_ in its spiritual sense is the\ncreation of Christ.  In Christian Ethics love is primal and central.\nHere we have got down to the bedrock of virtue.  It is not simply one\nvirtue among many.  It is the quality in which all the virtues have their\nsetting and unity.  From a Christian point of view every excellence of\ncharacter springs directly from love and is the manifestation of it.  It\nis, as St. Paul says, 'the bond of perfectness.'  The several virtues of\nthe Christian life are but facets of this one gem.[16]\n\nLove, according to the apostle, is indispensable to character.  Without\nit Faith is an empty profession; {197} Knowledge, a mere parade of\nlearning; Courage, a boastful confidence; Self-denial, a useless\nasceticism.  Love is the fruitful source of all else that is beautiful\nand noble in life.  It not only embraces but produces all the other\ngraces.  It creates fortitude; it begets wisdom; it prompts\nself-restraint and temperance; it tempers justice.  It manifests itself\nin humility, meekness, and forgiveness:\n\n  'As every hue is light,\n  So every grace is love.'\n\nLove is, however, closely associated with faith and hope.  Faith, as we\nhave seen, is theologically the formative and appropriating power by\nwhich man makes his own the spirit of Christ.  But ethically it is a form\nof love.  The Christian character is formed by faith, but it lives and\nworks by love.  A believing act is essentially a loving act.  It is a\ngiving of personal confidence.  It implies an outgoing of the self\ntowards another--which is the very nature of love.  Hope, again, is but a\nparticular form of faith which looks forward to the consummation of the\ngood.  The man of hope knows in whom he believes, and he anticipates the\nfulfilment of his longings.  Hope is essentially an element of love.\nLike faith it is a form of idealism.  It believes in, and looks forward\nto, a better world because it knows that love is at the heart of the\nuniverse.  As faith is the special counteragent against materialism in\nthe present, so hope is the special corrective of pessimism in regard to\nthe future.  Love supplies both with vision.  Christian hope, because\nbased on faith and prompted by love, is no easy-going complacence which\nsimply accepts the actual as the best of all possible worlds.  The\nChristian is a man of hope because in spite of life's sufferings he never\nloses faith in the ideal which love has revealed to him.  'Tribulation,'\nsays St. Paul, 'worketh patience, and patience probation, and probation\nhope.'  Hope has its social aspect as well as its personal; like faith it\nis one of the mighty levers of society.  Men of hope are the saviours of\nthe world.  In days of persecution and doubt it is their courage which\nrallies the wavering hosts and gives others {198} heart for the struggle.\nEvery Christian is an optimist not with the reckless assurance that calls\nevil good, but with the rational faith, begotten of experience, that good\nis yet to be the final goal of ill.  'Thy kingdom come' is the prayer of\nfaith and hope, and the missionary enterprise is rooted in the confidence\nbegotten of love, that He who has given to man His world-wide commission\nwill give also the continual presence and power of His Spirit for its\nfulfilment.\n\n3.  Faith, hope, and charity are at once the root and fruit of all the\nvirtues.  They are the attributes of the man whom Christ has redeemed.\nThe Christian has a threefold outlook.  He looks upwards, outwards, and\ninwards.  His horizon is bounded by neither space nor time.  He embraces\nall men in his regard, because he believes that every man has infinite\nworth in God's eyes.  The old barriers of country and caste, which\nseparated men in the ancient world, are broken down by faith in God and\nhope for man which the love of Christ inspires.  Faith, hope, and love\nhave been called the theological virtues.  But if they are to be called\nvirtues at all, it must be in a sense very different from what the\nancients understood by virtue.  These apostolic graces are not elements\nof the natural man, but states which come into being through a changed\nmoral character.  They connect man with God, and with a new spiritual\norder in which his life has come to find its place and purpose.  They\nwere impossible for a Greek, and had no place in ancient Ethics.  They\nare related to the new ideal which the Gospel has revealed, and obtain\ntheir value as elements of character from the fact that they have their\nobject in the distinctive truth of Christianity--fellowship with God\nthrough Christ.\n\nThese graces are not outward adornments or optional accomplishments.\nThey are the essential conditions of the Christian man.  They constitute\nhis inmost and necessary character.  They do not, however, supersede or\nrender superfluous the other virtues.  On the contrary they transmute and\ntransfigure them, giving to them at once their coherence and value.\n\n\n\n[1] Phil. iv. 8; 1 Peter ii. 9.\n\n[2] 2 Peter i. 5.\n\n[3] Cf. Sir Alex. Grant, _Aristotle's Ethics_.\n\n[4] Cf. Wundt, _Ethik_, p. 147.\n\n[5] Green, _Proleg. to Ethics_, section 249.\n\n[6] _Idem_.\n\n[7] Matt. v. 1-16.\n\n[8] Gal. v. 22-3.\n\n[9] Col. iii. 12, 13.\n\n[10] Phil. iv. 8.\n\n[11] 1 Cor. xiii.\n\n[12] 2 Peter i. 5.\n\n[13] Strong, _Christian Ethics_.\n\n[14] Mathieson, _Landmarks of Christian Morality_.\n\n[15] _Summa_, I. ii.\n\n[16] An interesting parallel might be drawn between the Pauline\nconception of Love as the supreme passion of the soul and lord of the\nemotions, and the Platonic view of Justice as the intimate spirit of\norder alike in the individual and the state, expressing itself in, and\nharmoniously binding together, the virtues of Temperance, Courage, and\nWisdom.\n\n\n\n\n{199}\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nTHE REALM OF DUTY\n\nWe have now to see how the virtues issue in their corresponding duties\nand cover the whole field of life.\n\nVirtues and duties cannot be strictly distinguished.  As Paulsen\nremarks, 'They are but different modes of presenting the same\nsubject-matter.'[1]  Virtues are permanent traits of character; duties\nare particular acts which seek to realise virtues.\n\nThe word 'duty,' borrowed from Stoic philosophy, inadequately\ndescribes, both on the side of its obligation and its joy, the service\nwhich the Christian is pledged to offer to Christ.  For the Christian\nthe two moments of pleasure and duty are united in the higher synthesis\nof love.\n\nIn this chapter we shall consider, first, some aspects of Christian\nobligation; and, second, the particular duties which arise therefrom in\nrelation to the self, others, and God.\n\n\nI\n\nASPECTS OF DUTY\n\n1.  _Duty and Vocation_.--'While duty stands for a universal element\nthere is a personal element in moral requirement which may be called\nvocation.'[2]  As soon as the youth enters upon the larger world he has\nto make choice of a profession or life-work.  Different principles may\nguide him in his selection.  First of all, the circumstances {200} of\nlife will help to decide the individual's career.  Our calling and\nduties arise immediately out of our station.  Already by parental\ninfluence and the action of home-environment character is being shaped,\nand tastes and purposes are created which will largely determine the\nfuture.  Next to condition and station, individual capacity and\ndisposition ought to be taken into account.  No good work can be\naccomplished in uncongenial employment.  A man must have not only\nfitness for his task, but also a love for it.  Proper ambition may also\nbe a determining factor.  We have a right to make the most of\nourselves, and to strive for that position in which our gifts shall\nhave fullest scope.  But the ultimate decision must be made in the\nlight of conscience.  Self-interest should not be our sole motive in\nthe choice of a vocation.  It is not enough to ask what is most\nattractive, what line of life will ensure the greatest material gain or\nworldly honour?  Rather should we ask, Where shall I be safest from\nmoral danger, and, above all, in what position of life, open to me, can\nI do the most good?  It is not enough to know that a certain mode of\nlivelihood is permitted by law; I must decide whether it is permitted\nto me as a Christian.  For, after all, underlying, and giving purpose\nand direction to, our earthly vocation is the deeper calling of God\ninto His kingdom.  These cannot, indeed, be separated.  We cannot\ndivide our life into two sections, a sacred and a secular.  Nor must we\nrestrict the idea of vocation to definite spheres of work.  Even those\nwho are precluded by affliction from the activities of the world are\nstill God's servants, and may find in suffering itself their divinely\nappointed mission.  There is a divinity which shapes our ends, and in\nevery life-calling there is something sacred.  'Saints,' says George\nEliot, 'choose not their tasks, they choose but to do them well.'\n\nBut the decisions of life do not cease with the choice of a calling.\nAt every moment of our career fresh difficulties arise, and new\nopportunities open up which demand careful thought.  Our first\nobligation is to meet faithfully the claims of our station.  But in the\ncomplexity of life we are {201} being constantly brought into wider\nrelations with our fellow-men, which either modify the old, or create\nentirely new situations.  While the rule is to do the duty that lies\nnearest us, to obey the call of God at each moment, it needs no little\nwisdom to discern one's immediate duty, and to know what the will of\nGod actually is.\n\n2.  _Conflict of Duties_.--In the sphere of duty itself a three-fold\ndistinction, having the imprimatur of the Romish Church, has been made\nby some moralists: (1) the problem of colliding interests; (2)\n'counsels of perfection'; and (3) indifferent acts or 'Adiaphora,'\nactions which, being neither commanded nor forbidden, fall outwith the\ndomain of Christian obligation.  It will not be necessary to discuss at\nlength these questions.  The Gospel lends no support to such\ndistinctions, and as Schleiermacher points out they ought to have no\nplace in Protestant Ethics.[3]\n\n(1) With regard to the 'conflict of duties,' when the collision is\nreally, as it often is, a struggle between inclination and duty, the\nquestion answers itself.  There are, of course, cases in which\nperplexity must occur to an honest man.  But the difficulty cannot be\ndecided by drawing up a list of axiomatic precepts to fit all\nconceivable cases.  In the dilemma, for example, between\nself-preservation and self-sacrifice which may present itself in some\ntragic experience of life, a host of considerations relative to the\nindividual's history and relationships enter in to modify the\nsituation, and the course to be taken can be _finally_ determined by a\nman's _own_ conscience alone.  Ultimately there can be no collision of\nduties as such.  Once a man recognises a certain mode of conduct to be\nright for him there is really no choice.  In judgment he may err;\npassion or desire may obscure the issue; but once he has determined\nwhat he ought to do there is no alternative, 'er kann nicht anders.'\n\n(2) Again, it is a complete misapprehension of the nature of duty to\ndistinguish between the irreducible minimum and acts of supererogatory\ngoodness which outrun duty.  {202} Goodness is one, and admits of no\ndegrees.  All duty is absolute.  An overplus is unthinkable, since no\nman can do more than his duty.  A Christian can only do what he\nrecognises as his obligation, and this he ought to fulfil at every\nmoment and with all his might.  Love, which is the Christian's only\nlaw, knows no limit.  Even when we have done our utmost we are still\nunprofitable servants.\n\n(3) Finally, the question as to whether there are any acts which are\nindifferent, permissible, but neither enjoined nor forbidden, must also\nbe answered in the negative.  If the Christian can do no more than his\nduty, because in every single action he seeks to fulfil the whole will\nof God, it is clear that there can be no moment of life that can be\nthought of not determined by the divine will.  There is no part of life\nthat is colourless.  There must be no dropped stitches in the texture\nof the Christian character.\n\nIt is most frequently in the domain of amusement that the notion of the\n'Permissible' is applied.  It has been contended that as recreation\nreally lies outwith the Christian sphere, it may be allowed to\nChristian people as a concession to human weakness.[4]  But can this\nposition be vindicated?  Relaxation is as much a need of man as work,\nand must, equally with it, be brought within the scope of Christian\nconduct.  We have no business to engage in any activity, whether\ninvolving pleasure or pain, that we cannot justify to our conscience.\nAre not the joys of life, and even its amusements, among God's gifts\ndesigned for the enriching of character?  And may not they, too, be\nconsecrated to the glory of God?  We are to use the world while not\nabusing it, for all things are ours if we are Christ's.  Over every\ndepartment of life the law of Christ is sovereign, and the ultimate\nprinciple applicable to all problems of duty is, 'Whatsoever ye do in\nword or deed do all to the glory of God.'\n\n3.  _Rights and Duties_.--The foregoing question as to the scope of\nduty leads naturally to the consideration of the relation of duties and\nrights.  It is usual to distinguish {203} between legal and moral\nrights; but at bottom they are one.  The rights which I legally claim\nfor myself I am morally bound to grant to others.  A right is expressed\nin the form of a permission; a duty, of an imperative.  I may or may\nnot demand my legal rights; morally, I must perform my duties.  But, on\nthe other hand, a right may be secured by legal compulsion; a duty, as\na moral obligation, can never be enforced by external power: it needs\nour own assent.[5]\n\nStrictly speaking rights and duties are correlative.  Every right\ncarries with it an obligation; not merely in the objective sense that\nwhen one man has a right other men are under the obligation to respect\nit, but also in the subjective sense that when a man has a right he is\nbound to use it for the general good.  It is sometimes said, 'A man may\ndo what he likes with his own.'  Legally that may be true, but morally\nhe is under obligation to employ it for the general good just as\nstrictly as if it were another's.  A man's rights are not merely\ndecorations or ends in themselves.  They are opportunities,\ninstruments, trusts.  And when any man has them, it means that he is\nplaced on a vantage-ground from which, secure of oppression or\ninterference, he may begin to do his duty.[6]  But this moral aspect of\nright is often lost sight of.  People are so enamoured of what they\ncall their rights that they forget that the real value of every right\ndepends upon the use to which they put it.  A man's freedom does not\nconsist in having rights, but in fulfilling them.  'After all,' says\nMazzini, 'the greatest right a man can possess or recognise--the\ngreatest gift of all--is simply the privilege and obligation to do his\nduty.'[7]  This is the only Christian doctrine of rights.  It underlies\nour Lord's teaching in the parable of the Talents.  We only have what\nwe use.\n\n(1) Much has been written of the 'Natural rights of Man.'[8]  This was\nthe claim of a school of political philosophy of {204} which Paine was\nthe most rigorous exponent.  The contentions of Paine were met as\nvigorously by the negations of Bentham and Burke.  And if it be\nsupposed that the individual is born into the world with certain\nready-made possessions, fixed and unalterable, the claim is untenable.\nSuch an artificial account of man ignores entirely the evolution of\nmoral nature, and denies the possibility of development in man's\nconception of law and duty.  'It is,' as Wundt says, 'to derive all the\nmoral postulates that have been produced in our minds by previous moral\ndevelopment from moral life as it actually exists.'[9]\n\n(2) But while the 'natural rights of man' cannot be theoretically\nvindicated, they may still be regarded as ends or ideals to be striven\nafter.  'Justifiable or unjustifiable in theory, they may still remain\na convenient form in which to couch the ultimatum of determined\nmen.'[10]  They give expression, at least, to a conviction which has\ngrown more clear and articulate with the advance of thought--the\nconviction of the _dignity and worth of the individual_.  This thought\nwas the keynote of the Reformation.  The Enlightenment, with its appeal\nto reason, as alike in all men, gave support to the idea of equality.\nDescartes claimed it as the philosophical basis of man's nature.\nRousseau and Montesquieu were among its most valiant champions.  Kant\nmade it the point of departure for the enforcement of human right and\nduty.  Fichte but elaborated Kant's view when he contended for 'the\nequality of everything which bears the human visage.'[11]  And Hegel\nhas summed up the conception in what he calls 'the mandate of\nright'--'Be a person, and respect others as persons.'[12]  Poets\nsometimes see what others miss.  And in our country, at least, it is to\nWordsworth, Tennyson, and Browning, and still more, perhaps, to Burns,\nthat we are indebted for the insistence upon the native worth of man.\n\nBut if this claim has only gradually attained to articulate {205}\nexpression, and is only now being made the basis of social\nreconstruction, it must not be forgotten that it is essentially a\nChristian truth.  In Harnack's language, 'Jesus Christ was the first to\nbring the value of every human soul to light, and what He did no one\ncan any more undo.'[13]\n\nWhen, however, the attempt is made to analyse this ultimate principle\nof manhood, opinions differ as to its constituents, and a long list of\n'rights' claimed by different political thinkers might be made.  The\nfamous 'Declaration of Rights'[14] included Life, Liberty, Property,\nSecurity, and 'Resistance of Oppression.'  To these some have added\n'Manhood Suffrage,' 'Free Access to the Soil,' and a common\ndistribution of the benefits of life and means of production.  This is\na large programme, and certainly no community as yet has recognised all\nits items without qualification.  Obviously they are not all of the\nsame quality, nor are they of independent validity; and at best they\nbut roughly describe certain factors, considered by various agitators\nas desirable, of an ideal social order.\n\n(3) We are on safer ground, and for Christian Ethics, at least, more in\nconsonance with ultimate Christian values, when we describe the primary\nrealities of human nature in terms of the revelation of life as given\nby the Person and teaching of Jesus Christ.  The three great verities\nupon which He constantly insisted were, man's value for himself, his\nvalue for his fellow-men, and his value for God.  These correspond\ngenerally to the three great ethical ideas of life--Personality,\nFreedom, and Divine Kinship.  But although the sense of independence,\nliberty and divine fellowship is the first aspect of a being who has\ncome to the consciousness of himself, it is incomplete in itself.  Man\nplants himself upon his individuality in order that he may set out from\nthence to take possession, by means of knowledge, action, and service,\nof his larger world.  Man's rights are but {206} possibilities which\nmust be transmuted by him into achievements.\n\n  'This is the honour,--that no thing I know,\n  Feel, or conceive, but I can make my own\n  Somehow, by use of hand or head or heart.'[15]\n\nRights involve obligations.  The right of personality carries with it\nthe duty of treating life, one's own and that of others, as sacred.\nThe right of freedom implies the use of one's liberty for the good of\nthe society of which each is a member.  And finally, the sense of\ndivine kinship involves the obligation of making the most of one's\nlife, of realising through and for God all that God intends in the gift\nof life.\n\nIn these three values lies the Christian doctrine of man.[16]  Because\nof their fullness of implication they open out to our vision the goal\nof humanity--the principle and purpose of the whole process of human\nevolution--the perfection of man.  Given these three Christian\ntruths--the Sacredness of Personality, the Brotherhood of Man, and the\nFatherhood of God--and all that is essential in the claim of the\n'Natural Rights of Man' is implicitly contained.  The one thing needful\nis that men become alive to their privileges and go forward to 'possess\ntheir possessions.'\n\n\nII\n\nSPHERES OF DUTY\n\nWe are thus led to a division, natural if not wholly logical, of duties\nwhich spring from these rights--duties towards self, others, and God.\nThough, indeed, self-love implies love of others, and all duty is duty\nto God, still it may be permissible to frame a scheme of duties\naccording as one or other element is prominent in each case.\n\n1.  _Duties in Relation to Self_.--It is obvious that without (1)\n_respect_ for self there can be no respect for others.  I am {207} a\npart of the moral whole, and an element in the kingdom of God.  I\ncannot make myself of no account.  Our Lord's commandment, 'Thou shalt\nlove thy neighbour as thyself,' makes a rightly conceived self-love the\nmeasure of love to one's neighbour.  Self-respect involves (2)\n_self-preservation_, the care of health, the culture of body and mind.\nNot only is it our duty to see that the efficiency and fitness of the\nbodily organism is fully maintained, but we must also guard it against\neverything that would defile and disfigure it, or render it an\ninstrument of sin.  Christianity requires the strictest personal\npurity, purity of thought and feeling as well as of deed.  It demands,\ntherefore, constant vigilance, self-control, temperance, and even\nself-denial, so that the body may be, not, as the ancients thought, the\nprison-house of the soul, but the temple of the Holy Spirit.\nChristianity is, however, opposed to asceticism.  Though Jesus denied\nHimself to the uttermost in obedience to the voice of God, there is in\nHis presentation of life a complete absence of those austerities which\nin the history of the Church have been so often regarded as marks of\nsuperior sanctity.[17]  It is unnecessary here to dwell upon athletics\nand sport which now so largely occupy the attention of the youth of our\nland.  Physical exercise is necessary to the maintenance of bodily\nfitness, yet it may easily become an all-absorbing pursuit, and instead\nof being merely a means to an end, may usurp the place in life which\nbelongs to higher things.\n\n(3) Self-maintenance involves also the duty of _self-development_, and\nthat not merely of our physical, but also of our mental life.  If the\nbody has its place and function in the growth of Christian character,\nstill more has the mind its ethical importance.  Our Maker can have no\ndelight in ignorance.  He desires that we should present not a\nfragmentary but complete manhood.  Specialisation, though a necessity\nof the age, is fraught with peril to the individual.  The exigencies of\nlabour require men to concentrate their energies on their own immediate\ntasks; but each must seek to be not merely a craftsman, but a man.\nOther sides {208} of our nature require to be cultivated besides those\nwhich bring us into contact with the ways and means of existence.\nIndeed, it is only by the possession of a well-trained mind that the\nfullest capacity, even for special pursuits, can be obtained.  It has\nbecome a commonplace to say that every man should have equality of\nopportunity to earn a livelihood.  But equality of opportunity for\neducation, as something which ought to be within the reach of every\nyouth in the land, is not so frequently insisted upon.  Beyond the\nclaims of daily occupation every one should have a chance, and, indeed,\nan inducement, to cultivate his mental and spiritual nature.  Hence\nwhat is called 'culture,' the all-round development of the human\nfaculties, is an essential condition of moral excellence.  For, as\nGoethe has said, the object of education ought to be rather the\nformation of tastes than simply the communication of knowledge.  But\nmost important of all the self-regarding aims of life is the obligation\nof _Self-discipline_, and the use of every means of moral culture which\nthe world supplies.  It is through the complex conditions of earthly\nexistence that the character of the individual is developed.  It will\nonly be possible to indicate briefly some of the aids to the culture of\nthe moral life.  Among these may be mentioned: (_a_) _The Providential\nExperiences of life_.   The world itself, as a sphere of Work,\nTemptation, and Suffering, is a school of character.  The affections\nand cares of the home, the duties and tasks incident to one's calling,\nthe claims of one's fellow-men, the trials and temptations of one's\nlot--these are the universal and common elements in man's moral\neducation.  Not to escape from the world's activities and conflicts,\nbut to turn them into conditions of self-mastery, is the duty of each.\nMen do work, but work makes men.  The shopkeeper is not merely selling\nwares; the artisan or mechanic is not simply engaged in his handicraft;\nthe mason and builder are not only erecting a house; each is, in and\nthrough his toil, making his own soul.  And so, too, suffering and\ntemptation are the tools which God commits to His creatures for the\nshaping of their own lives.  Saints {209} and sinners are made out of\nthe same material.  By what Bosanquet has finely called 'the miracle of\nwill' the raw stuff of life is taken up and woven into the texture of\nthe soul.  (_b_) The so-called _secular opportunities of culture_.\nInnumerable sources of self-enrichment are available.  Everything may\nbe made a vehicle of moral education.  Knowledge generally, and\nespecially the ministry of nature, the influence of art, and the study\nof literature, are potent factors in the discipline and development of\nChristian character.  To these must be added (_c_) _The special\nreligious aids and means of grace_.  From an ethical point of view the\nChurch is a school of character.  It 'guards and keeps alive the\ncharacteristic Christian ideas, and thereby exhibits and promotes the\nChristian ideal of life.'[18]  Its fellowship, worship, and ordinances;\nits opportunities of brotherly service and missionary activity, as well\nas the more private spiritual exercises of prayer and meditation--all\nare means of discipline and gifts committed to the stewardship of\nindividuals in order that they may realise the greatness of life's\npossibilities, and attain through union with God to the fullness of\ntheir stature in Christ.\n\nBut while the truth that the soul has an inalienable worth is\nrepeatedly affirmed, the New Testament touches but lightly upon the\nduties of self-regard.  To be occupied constantly with the thought of\none's self is a symptom of morbid egoism rather than of healthy\npersonality.  The avidity of self-improvement and even zeal for\nreligion may become a refined form of selfishness.  We must be willing\nat times to renounce our personal comfort, to restrain our zest for\nintellectual and aesthetic enjoyment, to be content to be less cultured\nand scholarly, less complete as men, and ready to part with something\nof our own immediate good that others may be ministered to.  Hence the\nchief reason probably why the Scriptures do not enlarge upon the duties\nof self-culture is, that according to the spirit of the Gospel the true\nrealisation of self is achieved through self-sacrifice.  Only as a man\nloses his life does he find it.  To horde [Transcriber's note: hoard?]\none's {210} possessions is to waste them.  Growth is the condition of\nlife.  But in all growth there is reciprocity of expenditure and\nassimilation, of giving and receiving.  Self-realisation is only gained\nthrough self-surrender.  Not, therefore, by anxiously standing guard\nover one's soul, but by dedicating it freely to the good of others does\none achieve one's true self.\n\n2.  _Duties in Relation to Others_.--We belong to others, and others\nbelong to us.  They and we are alike parts of a larger whole.\n\n(1) While this is recognised in Scripture, and all men are declared to\nbe brothers in virtue of their common humanity, Christianity traces the\nbrotherhood of man to a deeper source.  The relation of the individual\nto Christ is the true ground of love to others.  In Christ all\ndistinctions which in other respects separate men are dissolved.\nBeneath the meanest garb and coarsest features, in spite even of the\ndefacement of sin, we may detect the vast possibilities of the soul for\nwhom Christ has died.  The law of love is presented by Jesus as the\nhighest of all the commandments, and the duty to others is summed up\ngenerally in what is known as the golden rule.  Of the chief\nmanifestations of brotherly love mention must be made (_a_) of the\ncomprehensive duty of _Justice_.  The ground upon which justice rests\nis the principle that each individual is an end in himself.  Hence it\nis the duty of each to respect the rights of his neighbours, negatively\nrefraining from injury and positively rendering that which our\nfellow-men have a right to claim.  Religion makes a man more sensitive\nto the claims of humanity.  Mutual respect requires a constant effort\non the part of all to secure for each the fullest freedom to be\nhimself.  Christianity interprets justice to mean emancipation from\nevery condition which crushes or degrades a man.  It seeks to create a\nsocial conscience, and to arouse in each a sense of responsibility for\nthe good of all.  At the same time social justice must not be\nidentified with charity.  Charity has done much to relieve distress,\nand it will always form an indispensable element in {211} the\nChristian's duty towards his less fortunate brethren; but something\nmore radical than almsgiving is required if the conditions of life are\nto be appreciably bettered.  Justice is a demand not for bread alone;\nit is a claim of humanity to life, and all that life ought to mean.\nChristianity affirms the spirit of human brotherhood--a brotherhood in\nwhich every child will have a chance to grow to a noble manhood, and\nevery man and woman will have opportunity and encouragement to live a\nfree, wholesome, and useful life.  That is the Christian ideal, and to\nhelp towards its realisation is the duty laid upon every citizen of the\ncommonwealth.  The problems of poverty, housing, unemployment,\nintemperance, and all questions of fair wages, legitimate profits, and\njust prices, fall under the regulative principle of social justice.\nThe law is, 'Render to all their dues.'  The love which worketh no ill\nto his neighbour will also withhold no good.[19]\n\n(_b_) _Truthfulness_.--Justice is not confined to acts, but extends to\nspeech and even to thought.  We owe to others veracity.  Even when the\nmotive is good, there can be no greater social disservice than to fail\nin truthfulness.  Falsehood, either in the form of hypocrisy or\nequivocation, and even of unsound workmanship, is not only unjust to\nothers; it is unjust to ourselves, and a wrong to the deeper self--the\nnew man in Christ.[20]\n\nIs deception under all circumstances morally wrong?  Moralists have\nbeen divided on this question.  The instance of war is frequently\nreferred to, in which it is contended that ruse and subterfuge are\npermissible forms of strategy.[21]  There are, however, many\ndistressing cases of conscience, in which the duties of affection and\nveracity seemingly conflict.  It must be remembered that no command can\nbe carried out to its extreme, or obeyed literally.  Truth is not\nalways conveyed by verbal accuracy.  There may be higher interests at\nstake which might be prejudiced, and indeed unfairly represented by a\nmerely literal statement.  {212} The individual conscience must decide\nin each case.  We are to speak the truth in love.  Courage and\nkindliness are to commingle.  But when all is said it is difficult to\navoid the conclusion that in the last analysis lack of truth argues a\ndeficient trust in the ultimate veracities of the universe, and rests\nupon a practical unbelief in the divine providence which can make 'all\nthings work together for good to them that love God.'\n\n(_c_) Connected with truthfulness, and also a form of justice, is the\nduty enjoined by St. Paul of forming _just judgments_ of our\nfellow-men.  If we would avoid petty fault-finding and high-minded\ncontempt, we must dismiss all prejudice and passion.  The two qualities\nrequisite for proper judgment are knowledge and sympathy.  Goethe has a\nfine couplet to the effect that 'it is safe in every case to appeal to\nthe man who knows.'[22]  But to understanding must be added\nappreciative consideration.  We must endeavour to put ourselves in the\nposition of our brother.  Without a finely blended knowledge and\nsympathy we grow intolerant and impatient.  Fairness is the rarest of\nmoral qualities.  He who would estimate another truly must have what\nSt. Paul calls 'spiritual discernment'--the 'even-balanced soul' of one\n'who saw life steadily and who saw it whole.'\n\n(2) Brotherly Love evinces itself further in _Service_, which takes the\nthree forms of Compassion, Beneficence or practical kindness, and\nExample.\n\n(_a_) _Compassion_ or sympathy is a readiness to enter into the\nexperiences of others.  As Christians nothing that concerns our brother\ncan be a matter of indifference to us.  As members of the same\nspiritual community we are participators in each other's joys and\nsorrows, 'weeping with those that weep, and rejoicing with those that\nrejoice.'  It is no mere natural instinct, but one which grows out of\nthe Christian consciousness of organic union with Christ.  'When one\nmember suffers, all the members suffer with it.'[23] {213} We fulfil\nthe law of Christ by bearing one another's burdens.\n\n(6) _Practical Beneficence_ is the natural outcome of sympathy.\nFeelings pass into deeds.  Those redeemed by the love of Christ become\nthe agents of His love, gladly dispensing to others what they\nthemselves have received.  The ministry of love, whatever shape it may\ntake, must, in the last resort, be a giving of self.  No one can do a\nkindness who does not put something of himself into it.  No true\nservice can be done that does not cost us more than money.\n\nIn modern society it is inevitable that personality should largely find\nits expression and exercise in material possessions.  Without entering\nhere upon the question of the institution of private property, it is\nenough to say that the possession of material goods may be morally\ndefended on the twofold ground, that it ensures the security of\nexistence, and is an essential condition of the development of\nindividual and national resources.  The process of acquisition is a\nmoralising influence, since it incites the individual to work, and\ntends to create and foster among men interchange of service.  Property,\nsays Hegel, is the embodiment and instrument of the will.[24]  But in a\ncivilised community there must be obviously restrictions to the\nacquisition and use of wealth.  Unbridled appropriation and\nirresponsible abuse are alike a peril to society.  The State has\ntherefore the right of interference and control in regard to all\npossessions.  Even on the lowest ground of expediency the very idea of\nproperty involves on the part of all the principle of co-operation and\nreciprocity--the obligation of contributing to the general weal.  It\nwould, however, be most undesirable that the government should\nundertake everything for the general good of man that is now left to\nspontaneous effort and liberality.  But from the standpoint of\nChristian Ethics possessions of all kinds are subject to the law of\nstewardship.[25]  Every gift is {214} bestowed by God for the purpose\nof social service.  No man can call the things which he\npossesses--endowments, wealth, power--his own.  He is simply a trustee\nof life itself.  No one may be an idler or parasite, and society has a\njust claim upon the activity of every man.  The forms of such service\nare various; but the Christian spirit will inspire a sense of 'the\nultimate unity of all pursuits that contribute to the good of man.'[26]\n\nThe ministry of love extends over the whole realm of existence, and\nvaries with every phase of need.  Physical necessities are to be met in\nthe spirit of charity.  St. Paul pleads repeatedly the cause of the\npoor, and commends the grace of liberality.  Giving is to be cheerful\nand without stint.  But there are needs which material aid cannot\nmeet--desolation, anxiety, grief--to which the loving heart alone can\nfind ways of ministering.  And beyond all physical and moral need is\nthe need of the soul; and it lies as a debt upon those who themselves\nhave experienced the grace of Christ to seek the renewal and spiritual\nenrichment of their brethren.\n\n(_c_) There is one special form of practical kindness towards others\nwhich a follower of Christ will often be called upon to exercise--the\nspirit of _forbearance and forgiveness_.  The Christian is to speak\nevil of no man, but to be gentle, showing all meekness unto all men;\nliving peaceably with all men, avoiding everything provocative of\nstrife; even 'forbearing one another and forgiving one another, if any\nhave a quarrel against any; even as Christ forgave you so also do ye.'\n\n(3) Finally, we may serve others by _Example_, by letting the light of\nlife so shine before men that they seeing our good works shall glorify\nGod our Father.  This duty, however, as Fichte points out, 'has often\nbeen viewed very incorrectly, as if we could be obliged to do this or\nthat, which otherwise we would not have needed to do, for the sake of a\ngood example.'[27]  That which I am commanded {215} to do I must do for\nits own sake without regard to its effect upon others.  Esteem can be\nneither outwardly compelled nor artistically produced; it manifests\nitself voluntarily and spontaneously.  A modern novelist[28] ironically\nexposes this form of altruism by putting into the mouth of one of her\ncharacters the remark, 'I always make a point of going to church in\norder to show a good example to the domestics.'  At the same time no\none can withhold one's influence; and while the supreme motive must be,\nnot to make a display, but to please God, he who is faithful to his\nstation and its duties cannot fail to affect his fellow-men for good.\nThe most effective example is given unconsciously, as the rose exhales\nits sweetest perfume without effort, or the light sheds its radiance\nsimply by being what it is.\n\n3.  _Duties in Relation to God_.--Here morality runs up into religion,\nand indeed since all duties are in their last analysis duties toward\nGod, Kant and other moralists have objected to the admission into\nEthics of a special class of religious obligations.  It has been well\nremarked that the genuine Christian cannot be known by particular\nprofessions or practices, but only by the heavenly spirit of his\nlife.[29]  Hence religious duty cannot be formulated in a number of\nprecise rules.  Love to God finds expression not in mechanical\nobedience, but in the spontaneous outflow of the heart.  The special\nduties to the Divine Being may be briefly described under the main\nheads of Recognition, Obedience, and Worship.\n\n(1) _Recognition_.--The acknowledgment of God rests upon knowledge.\nWithout some comprehension of what God is there can be no intelligent\nallegiance to Him.  We cannot, indeed, by logical reasoning demonstrate\nthe existence of the Deity any more than we can demonstrate our own\nbeing.  But He has not left Himself without a witness, and He speaks to\nman with many voices.  The material creation is the primary word of\nGod.  The beauty, and still more the sublimity, of nature are a\nrevelation through {216} matter of something beyond itself, a message\nof the spiritual, bearing 'authentic tidings of invisible things.'  But\nnature is symbolic.  It is a prophecy rather than an immediate\nrevelation.  Still it warrants the expectation of a yet fuller\nmanifestation.  That fuller utterance we have in man himself.  There,\nspirit reveals itself to spirit; and in the two primary intuitions of\nman--self-consciousness and the sense of moral obligation--the presence\nof God is disclosed.  But, higher still, the long historic evolution\nhas culminated in a yet clearer manifestation of the Deity.  In Christ,\nthe God-Man, the mystery underlying and brooding over the world is\nunveiled, and to the eye of faith is revealed the Fatherhood of God.\n\nThe first duty, therefore, we owe to God is that of recognition, the\nacknowledgment of His presence in the world.  To feel that He is\neverywhere, sustaining and vitalising all things; to recognise His will\nin all the affairs of our daily life, is at once the duty and\nblessedness of man.\n\n(2) _Obedience_ follows acknowledgment.  It is partly passive and\npartly active.\n\n(_a_) As _passive_, it takes the form of habitual trust or\n_acquiescence_, the submissive acceptance of trials which are\nultimately, we believe, not really evils, because ordained by God and\noverruled for good.[30]  This spirit of obedience can be maintained by\n_constant vigilance_ alone.[31]  While connected with the anticipated\ncoming of the Son of Man, the obligation had a more general\napplication, and may be regarded as the duty of all in the face of the\nunknown and unexpected in life.  We are therefore to watch for any\nintimation of the divine will, and commit ourselves trustfully to the\nabsolute disposal of Him in whose hands are the issues of our lives.\n\n(_b_) But obedience has also an _active_ side.  _Faithfulness_ is the\ncomplement of faith.  The believer must exercise fidelity, and go\nforward with energy and purpose to the tasks committed to him.  As\nstewards of Christ we are {217} to occupy till He come, employing every\ntalent entrusted to us in His service.  Work may be worship, and we can\nglorify God in our daily tasks.  No finer tribute can a man give than\nsimply himself.\n\n(3) _Worship_.--The special duties of worship belong to the religious\nrather than the ethical side of life, and do not demand here more than\na passing reference.  The essence of religion lies in the subordination\nof the finite self to the infinite; and worship is the conscious\noutgoing of the man in his weakness and imperfection to his Maker, and\nit attains its fullest exercise in (_a_) _reverence_, humility, and\ndevotion.  The feeling of dependence and sense of need, together with\nthe consciousness of utter demerit and inability which man realises as\nhe gazes upon the majesty and grace of God, awaken the (_b_) instinct\nof _prayer_.  'It is the sublime significance of prayer,' says Wuttke,\n'that it brings into prominence man's great and high destiny, that it\nheightens his consciousness of his true moral nature in relation to\nGod; and as morality depends on our relation to God, prayer is the very\nlife-blood of morality.'[32]  The steadfast aspiration of the soul to\nGod, whose will is our law and whose blessing is granted to whatsoever\nis done in His name, is the habitual temper of the Christian life.  But\nprayer must also be particular, definite, and expectant.  By a law of\nour nature, and apart from all supernatural intervention, prayer\nexercises a reflex influence of a very beneficial character upon the\nmind of the worshippers.  But he who offers his petitions expecting\nnothing more will not even attain this.  'If prayers,' says Mr. Lecky,\n'were offered up solely with a view to this benefit, they would be\nabsolutely sterile and would speedily cease.'[33]  The purely\nsubjective view of prayer as consisting solely in 'beneficent\nself-suggestion' empties the term of significance.  Even Frederick\nMeyers, who lays so much stress upon the importance of self-suggestion\nin other aspects of experience, admits that prayer is something more\nthan a subjective {218} phenomenon.  'It is not only a calling up of\none's own private resources; it must derive its ultimate efficacy from\nthe increased flow from the infinite life into the life of the\nsuppliant.'[34]\n\n(_c_) Prayer attains its highest expression in _Thanksgiving and Joy_.\nGratitude is the responsive feeling which wells up in the heart of\nthose who have experienced the goodness of God, and recognise Him as\nthe great Benefactor.  Christians are to abound in thankfulness.  We\nlive in a world where everything speaks to us of divine love.  Praise\nis the complement of prayer.  The grateful heart sees life\ntransfigured.  It discovers everywhere tokens of grace and hope,\n\n  'Making the springs of time and sense\n  Sweet with eternal good.'\n\nPeace, trust, joy, hope are the ultimate notes of the Christian life.\n'Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks.'\nThanksgiving, says St. Bernard, 'is the return of the heart to God in\nperpetual benediction.'\n\n\nIn the kingdom of love duty is swallowed up in joy.  Life is nothing\nbut the growing realisation of God.  With God man's life begins, and to\nHim turns back at last in the wrapt contemplation of His perfect being.\nIn fellowship with God man finds in the end both himself and his\nbrother.\n\n  'What is left for us, save, in growth\n  Of soul, to rise up, far past both,\n  From the gift looking to the Giver,\n  From the cistern to the river,\n  And from the finite to the Infinity\n  And from man's dust to God's divinity?'[35]\n\n'God,' says Green, 'is a Being with whom we are in principle one, in\nthe sense that He is all which the human spirit is capable of\nbecoming.'[36]  In the worship of God, {219} man dies to the temporal\ninterests and narrow ends of the exclusive self, and lives in an\never-expanding life in the life of others, manifesting more and more\nthat spiritual principle which is the life of God, who lives and loves\nin all things.[37]\n\n\n\n[1] Paulsen, _Ethics_, bk. III. chap. i.  Cf. also Wundt, _Ethik_, p.\n148.  But see also W. Wallace, _Lectures and Essays_, p. 325, on their\nconfusion.\n\n[2] Mackintosh, _Chr. ethics_, p. 114.\n\n[3] Cf. Haering, _Ethics of Chr. Life_, p. 230.\n\n[4] This seems to be the position of Herrmann; see _Ethik_.\n\n[5] Cf. Eucken, _Life's Basis_, p. 185.\n\n[6] Maccunn, _Ethics of Citizenship_, p. 40.\n\n[7] _Duties of Man_, chap. i.\n\n[8] See discussion by late W. Wallace in _Lectures and Essays_, pp. 213\nff.\n\n[9] _Ethik_, p. 190.\n\n[10] Maccunn, _op. cit._; p. 42.\n\n[11] Cf. Eucken, _Main Currents of Modern Thought_, p. 348.\n\n[12] Hegel, _Philosophy of Right_, p. 45.\n\n[13] _Das Wesen des Christenthums_; cf. also _Ecce Homo_, p. 345.\n\n[14] Adopted in Massachusetts in 1773.--'All men have equal rights to\nlife, liberty, and property.'\n\n[15] Browning, _Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau_.\n\n[16] Cf. Wheeler Robinson, _The Christian Doctrine of Man_, pp. 281 f.\n\n[17] Matt. xi. 18; Luke vii. 33.\n\n[18] Ottley, _Ideas and Ideals_.\n\n[19] Rom. xiii. 7-10.\n\n[20] Col. iii. 9, 10.\n\n[21] See Lecky, _Map of Life_.\n\n[22] _Vor dem Wissenden sich stellen, sicher ist's in allen Faellen_.\n\n[23] 1 Cor. xii. 26.\n\n[24] _Phil. of Right_, pp. 48 ff.; see also Wundt, _Ethik_, pp. 175 f.\n\n[25] Cf. Ottley, _Idem_, p. 271.\n\n[26] Green, _Proleg._, p. 173, quoted by Ottley.\n\n[27] _Science of Ethics_ (trans.), p. 337.\n\n[28] Miss Fowler, _Concerning Isabel Carnaby_.\n\n[29] Drummond, _Via, Veritas, Vita_, p. 227.\n\n[30] Matt. viii. 25 f., x. 26; Luke viii. 23 f.\n\n[31] Matt. xxv. 1 f.; Mark xxiv. 42; Luke xii. 36 f.\n\n[32] _Chr. Ethics_ (trans.), vol. ii. p. 221.\n\n[33] _Hist. of Europ. Morals_, vol. i. p. 36.\n\n[34] _Human Personality_, vol. ii. p. 313.\n\n[35] Browning, _Christmas Eve_.\n\n[36] _Proleg._, p. 198.\n\n[37] Cf. Jones, _Browning as Philosophical and Religious Teacher_, p.\n367.\n\n\n\n\n{220}\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nSOCIAL INSTITUTIONS\n\nIn last chapter we dealt with the rights and duties of the individual\nas they are conditioned by his relation to himself, others, and to God.\nIn this chapter it remains to speak more particularly of the organised\ninstitutions of society in which the moral life is manifested, and by\nmeans of which character is moulded.  These are the Family, the State,\nand the Church.  These three types of society, though distinguishable,\nare closely allied.  At first, indeed, they were identical.  Human\nsociety had its origin, most probably, in a primitive condition in\nwhich domestic, political, and religious ends were one.  Even in modern\nlife Family, State, and Church do not stand for separate interests.  So\nfar from their aims colliding they are mutually helpful.  An individual\nmay be a member of all three at one time.  From a Christian point of\nview each is a divine institution invested with a sacred worth and a\nholy function, and ordained of God for the advancement of His kingdom.\n\n\nI\n\n_The Family_ is the fountain-head of all the other social groups, 'the\ncell of the social organism.'  Man enters the world not as an isolated\nbeing, but by descent and generation.  In the family each is cradled\nand nurtured, and by the domestic environment character is developed.\nThe family has a profound value for the nation.  Citizenship rests on\nthe sanctity of the home.  When the fire on the hearth is quenched, the\nvigour of a people dies.\n\n{221}\n\n1.  Investigations of great interest and value have been pursued in\nrecent years regarding the origin and evolution of the family.  However\nfar back the natural history of the race is carried, it seems scarcely\npossible to resist the conclusion that some form of family relationship\nis coeval with human life.  Widely as social arrangements differ in\ndetail among savage peoples, arbitrary promiscuity can nowhere be\ndetected.  Certain laws of domestication have been invariably found to\nexist, based upon definite social and moral restrictions universally\nacknowledged and rigidly enforced.  Two primitive conditions are\npresent wherever man is found--the tribe and the family.  If the family\nis never present without the tribe, the tribe is never discovered\nwithout 'those intra-tribal distinctions and sexual regulations which\nlie at the bottom of the institution of the family.'[1]  Westermarck\nindeed says that 'the evidence we possess tends to show that among our\nearliest human ancestors the family and not the tribe formed the\nnucleus of every social group, and in many cases was itself perhaps the\nonly social group.  The tie that kept together husband and wife,\nparents and children, was, if not the only, at least the principal\nfactor in the earliest forms of man's social life.'[2]  If the family\nhad been an artificial convention called into being by human will and\ningenuity, it might conceivably be destroyed by the same factors.  But\nwhatever arguments may be adduced for the abolition of marriage and\nfamily life to-day, the appeal to primitive history is not one of them.\nOn the contrary the earliest forms of society show that the family is\nno invention, that it has existed as long as man himself, and that all\nsocial evolution has been a struggle for the preservation of its most\nvaluable features.[3]\n\n2.  If, even in early times, and especially among the Hebrews, Greeks,\nand Romans, the family was an important factor in national development,\nit has been infinitely more so {222} since the advent of Christianity.\nChrist did not create this relationship.  He found it in existence when\nHe came to the earth.  But He invested it with a new ethical value.  He\nlaid upon it His consecrating touch, and made it the vehicle of all\nthat is most tender and true in human affection, so that among\nChristian people to-day no word is fraught with such hallowed\nassociations as the word 'home.'  This He did both by example and\nteaching.  As a member of a human family Himself, He participated in\nits experiences and duties.  He spent His early years in the home of\nNazareth, and was subject unto His parents.  He manifested His glory at\na marriage feast.  By the grave of Lazarus He mingled His tears with\nthose of the sorrowing sisters of Bethany.  He had a tender regard for\nlittle children, and when mothers brought their infants to Him He\nwelcomed them with gracious encouragement, and, taking the little ones\nin His arms, blessed them, thus consecrating for all time both\nchildhood and motherhood.  Throughout His life there are indications of\nHis deep reverence and affection for her who was His mother, and with\nHis latest breath he confided her to the care of His beloved disciple.\n\nThere are passages indeed which seem to indicate a depreciation of\nfamily relationships.[4]  The most important of these are the sayings\nwhich deal with the home connections of those whom He called to special\ndiscipleship.[5]  Not only are father and mother to be loved less than\nHe, but even in comparison with Himself are to be hated.[6]  Among the\nsacrifices His servants must be ready to make is the surrender of the\nhome.[7]  But these references ought to be taken in conjunction with,\nand read in the light of, His more general attitude to the claims of\nkindred.  It was not His indifference to, but His profound regard for,\nhome ties that drew from Him these words.  He knew that affection may\nnarrow as well as widen the heart, and that our {223} tenderest\nintimacies may bring our most dangerous temptations.  There are moments\nin the history of the heart when the lesser claim must yield to the\ngreater.  For the Son of Man Himself, there were interests higher even\nthan those of the family.  Some men, perhaps even most, are able to\nfulfil their vocation without a surrender of the joys of kinship.  But\nothers are called to a wider sphere and a harder task.  For the sake of\nthe larger brotherhood of man, Jesus found it necessary to renounce the\nintimacies of home.  What it cost Him to do so we, who cannot fathom\nthe depth of His love, know not.  Even such an abandonment did He\ndemand of His first disciples.  And for the follower of Christ still\nthere must be the same willingness to make the complete sacrifice of\neverything, even of home and kindred, if they stand in the way of\ndevotion to the kingdom of God.[8]\n\n(1) Our Lord's direct statements regarding the nature of the family\nleave us in no doubt as to the high place it holds in His conception of\nlife.  Marriage, upon which the family rests, is, according to Jesus,\nthe divinely ordained life-union of a man and woman.  In His quotation\nfrom Genesis He makes reference to that mysterious attraction, deeply\nfounded in the very nature of man, by which members of the opposite sex\nare drawn to each other.  But while acknowledging the sensuous element\nin marriage, He lifts it up into the spiritual realm and transmutes it\ninto a symbol of soul-communion.  Our Lord does not derive the sanction\nof wedded life from Mosaic legislation.  Still less does He permit it\nas a concession to human frailty.  It has its ground in creation\nitself, and while therefore it is the most natural of earthly\nrelationships it is of God's making.  To the true ideal of marriage\nthere are several features which our Lord regards as indispensable.\n(_a_) It must be _monogamous_, the fusion of two distinct\npersonalities.  'They two shall be one flesh.'  Mutual self-impartation\ndemands that the union should be an exclusive one.  (_b_) It is a\n_union of equality_.  Neither {224} personality is to be suppressed.\nThe wedded are partners who share one another's inmost thoughts and\nmost cherished purposes.  But this claim of equality does not exclude\nbut rather include the different functions which, by reason of sex and\nconstitution, each is enabled to exercise.  'Woman is not undeveloped\nman but diverse.'  And it is in diversity that true unity consists.\nBoth will best realise their personality in seeking the perfection of\none another.  (_c_) It is a _permanent_ union, indissoluble till the\nparting of death.  The only exception which Christ acknowledges is that\nform of infidelity which _ipso facto_ has already ruptured the sacred\nbond.[9]  According to Jesus marriage is clearly intended by God to\ninvolve sacred and permanent obligations, a covenant with God, as well\nas with one another, which dare not be set aside at the dictate of a\nwhim or passion.  The positive principle underlying this declaration\nagainst divorce is the spirit of universal love that forbids that the\nwife should be treated, as was the case among the dissolute of our\nLord's time, as a chattel or slave.  Nothing could be more abhorrent to\nChristian sentiment than the modern doctrine of 'leasehold marriage'\nadvocated by some.[10]  It has been ingeniously suggested that the\nrecord of marital unrest and divorce in America, shameful as it is, may\nnot be in many cases altogether an evil.  The very demand to annul a\nunion in which reverence and affection have been forfeited may spring\nfrom a growing desire to realise the true ideal of marriage.[11]  (_d_)\nFinally, it is a _spiritual_ union.  It is something more than a legal\ncontract, or even an ecclesiastical ordinance.  The State must indeed\nsafeguard the civil rights of the parties to the compact, and the\nChurch's ceremony ought to be sought as the expression of divine\nblessing and approval.  But of themselves these do not constitute the\ninner tie which makes the twain one, and binds them together amid all\nthe chances and changes of this earthly life.[12]  In the teaching of\nboth Christ and {225} the apostles marriage is presented as a high\nvocation, ordained by God for the enrichment of character, and invested\nwith a holy symbolism.  According to St. Paul it is the emblem of the\nmystic union of Christ and His Church, and is overshadowed by the\npresence of God, who is the archetype of those sacred ideas which we\nassociate with the name of fatherhood.\n\n(2) Though marriage is the most personal of all forms of social\nintercourse, there are many varied and intricate interests involved\nwhich require _legal recognition_ and adjustment.  Questions as to the\nlegitimacy of offspring, the inheritance of property, the status and\nrights of the contracting parties, come within the domain of law.  The\nState punishes bigamy, and forbids marriage within certain degrees of\nconsanguinity.  Many contend that the State should go further, and\nprevent all unions which endanger the physical vigour and efficiency of\nthe coming generation.  It is undoubtedly true that the government has\na right to protect its people against actions which tend to the\ndeterioration of the race.  To permit those to marry who are suffering\nfrom certain maladies of mind or body is to commit a grave crime\nagainst society.  But care must be taken lest we unduly interfere with\nthe deeper spiritual sympathies and affections upon which a true union\nis founded.  In agitating for State control in the mating of the\nphysically fit, the champions of eugenics are apt to exaggerate the\nmaterialistic side of marriage, and overlook those qualities of heart\nand mind which are not less important for the well-being of the race.\nIn the discipline of humanity weakness and suffering are assets which\nthe world could ill afford to lose.[13]\n\n(3) In modern times the institution of marriage is menaced by two\nopposite forces; on the one hand, by a revolutionary type of socialism,\nand on the other, by the reactionary influence of self-interested\nindividualism.  (_a_) It is contended by some advanced socialists that\namong {226} the poor and the toiling home life is practically\nnon-existent; indeed, under present industrial conditions, impossible.\nMarriage and separate family life are insuperable barriers, it is said,\nto corporate unity and social progress.  It is but fair to add that\nthis extreme view is now largely repudiated by the most enlightened\nadvocates of a new social order, who are contending, they tell us, not\nfor the abolition, but for the betterment, of domestic conditions.[14]\n(_b_) The stability of social life is being threatened even more\nseriously by a self-centred individualism.  Marriage is considered as a\nmerely temporary arrangement which may be terminated at will.  It is\ncontended that divorce should be granted on the easiest terms, and the\nmost trifling reasons are seriously put forward as legitimate grounds\nfor the annulling of the holiest of vows.  Without discussing these\ndisintegrating influences, it is enough to say that the trend of\nhistory is against any radical tampering with the institution of\nmarriage, and any attempt to disparage the sanctity of the home or\nbelittle domestic obligations would be to poison at its springs the\nmoral life of man.\n\n3.  The duties of the various members of the family are explicitly, if\nbriefly, stated in the apostolic epistles.  They are valid for all\ntimes and conditions.  Though they may be easily elaborated they cannot\nwell be improved.  All home obligations are to be fulfilled _in_ and\n_unto_ the Lord.  The fear of God is to inspire the nurture of\nchildren, and to sanctify the lowliest services of the household.\nAuthority is to be blended with affection.  (1) _Parents_ are not to\nprovoke their children by harsh and despotic rule, nor yet to spoil\nthem by soft indulgence.  _Children_ are to render obedience, and, when\nable, to contribute to the support of their parents.[15]  Masters are\nto treat their servants with equity and respect.  Servants are exhorted\nto show fidelity.  In short all the relationships of the household are\nto be hallowed by the spirit of Christian love.\n\nMany questions relative to the family arise, over which {227} we may\nnot linger.  One might speak of the effect of industrial conditions\nupon domestic life, the employment of women and children in factories,\nthe evil of sweating, the problem of our city slums, and, generally, of\nthe need of improved environment in order that our labouring classes\nmay have a chance of a healthier and purer home existence.  Legislation\ncan do much.  But even law is ineffective to achieve the highest ends\nif it is not backed by the public conscience.  The final solution of\nthe problem of the family rests not in conditions but in character, not\nin environment but in education, in the kind of men we are rearing.\n\n(2) This century has been called the _woman's_ century.  And certainly\nthere is an obvious trend to-day towards acknowledgment, in all\ndepartments of life, of women's equality with men.  There is, however,\na difference of opinion as to what that equality should mean; and there\nseems to be a danger in some quarters of overlooking the essential\ndifference of the sexes.  No people can achieve what it ought while its\nwives and mothers are degraded or denied their rights.  For her own\nsake, as well as for the weal of the race, whatever is needful to\nenable woman to attain to her noblest womanhood must be unhesitatingly\ngranted.[16]\n\n(3) But this is even more the _children's_ era.  A new sense of\nreverence for the child is one of the most promising notes of our age,\nand the problems arising out of the care and education of the young\nhave created the new sciences of pedagogy and child-psychology.  Regard\nfor child-life owes its inspiration directly to the teaching of Christ.\nThe child in the simplicity of its nature and innocence of its\ndependence is, according to the Master, the perfect pattern of those\nwho seek after God.  It is true that in the art of antiquity child-life\nwas frequently represented.  But as Burckhardt says it was the drollery\nand playfulness, even the quarrelsomeness and stealth, and above all\nthe lusty health and animal vigour of young life that was depicted.\nAncient art did not behold in the child the prophecy of a new and purer\nworld.  Moreover, it was aesthetic {228} feeling and not real sympathy\nwith childhood which animated this movement.  As time went on the\nteaching of Christ on this subject was strangely neglected, and the\nhistory of the treatment of the young is a tragic tale of neglect and\nsuffering.  Only now are we recovering the lost message of Jesus in\nregard to the child, and we are beginning to realise that infancy and\nyouth have their rights, and demand of the world both care and\naffection.  Ours sons and daughters are the nation's assets.  Yet it is\na parent's question even more than the State's.  In a deeper sense than\nwe imagine children are the creation of their parents.  It is the\neffect of soul upon soul, the mother's touch and look, the father's\nwords and ways, that kindle into flame the dull material of humanity,\nand begin that second birth which should be the anxiety and glory of\nparenthood.  But if the parent makes the child, scarcely less true is\nit that the child makes the parent.  In the give and take of home life\na new world is created.  When a father really looks into his child's\neye he is not as he was before.[17]  Indispensable as is the State's\neducation of the young, there is an important part which the community\ncannot undertake, and there is a danger in curbing individuality by a\nstereotyped method of instruction.  'All social enactments,' says\nHarnack, 'have a tendency to circumscribe the activities of the\nindividual.  If we unduly fetter the free play of individual effort we\nbreak the mainspring of progress and enterprise, and create a state of\nsocial immobility which is the antecedent of national decay.'[18]\nYouth ought to be taught self-reliance and strenuousness of will; and\nthis is a work which can only be done in the home by the firm yet\nkindly influence of the parents.  But there is another aspect of the\nhome problem not less pressing.  The want of training in working-class\nfamilies is largely answerable for the waifs and strays with which our\ncities team.  Even in middle-class households there are indications of\na lack not only of discipline, but of {229} that kindly sympathy and\naffectionate counsel on the part of parents, and of reverence and\nfrankness in the children; with the result that the young people,\nmissing the attachment and interest which the home should supply, seek\ntheir satisfaction outside the domestic circle, often with the most\ndisastrous results.  The problem of the family is thus the problem of\nnurturing the very seeds of the moral life.  Within the precincts of\nthe nation's homes the future of the commonwealth is being determined.\n\n\nII\n\n1.  The _State_ is the supreme controller of social relationships.  As\ndistinguished from the family and the Church, it is the realm of\norganised force working for social ends.  Its purpose is to secure the\nconditions of life essential to order and progress, and it can fulfil\nits function only as it is endowed with power to enforce its authority.\nThe interference of the State with the liberty of the individual has\ncreated a reaction in two opposite quarters towards complete abrogation\nof all State compulsion.  On the one side Tolstoy pleads for the\nremoval of force, because it violates the principle of love and\nsubverts the teaching of Jesus--'Resist not evil.'  Militant anarchism\nas the other extreme demands the abrogation of authority, because it\nbelieves that restraint hinders progress and happiness, and that if\ngovernmental force were abolished individuals would be best able to\ntake care of themselves.  The aim of anarchism is to destroy force by\nforce; the aim of Tolstoy is to allow force to do its worst.  Such a\nspirit of non-resistance would mean the overthrow of all security, and\nthe reversion to wild lawlessness.  It is an utter travesty of Christ's\nteaching.  Extremes meet.  Violence and servility join hands.\nAnarchism and Tolstoyism reveal the total bankruptcy of unrestricted\nindividualism.\n\nThe social order for which the State stands is not so much an\ninterference with the freedom of the subject as the condition under\nwhich alone individual liberty can be preserved.  {230} The view,\nhowever, that the State is an artificial relationship into which men\nvoluntarily enter in order to limit their selfish instincts and to\nsecure their mutual advantages--the theory of the 'social\ncontract'--has been discarded in modern times as a fiction of the\nimagination.  It is not of his own choice that the individual becomes a\nmember of society.  He is born into it.  Man is not a whole in himself.\nHe is only complete in his fellows.  As he serves others he serves\nhimself.  But men are not the unconscious functions of a mechanical\nsystem.  They are free, living personalities, united by a sense of\nhuman obligation and kindredship.  The State is more than a physical\norganism.  It is a community of moral aims and ideals.  Even law, which\nis the soul of the State, is itself the embodiment of a moral\nprinciple; and the commonwealth stands for a great ethical idea, to the\nfulfilment of which all its citizens are called upon to contribute.\n\n2.  The reciprocal duties of the State and its citizens receive\ncomparatively little prominence in the New Testament.  But they are\nnever treated with disparagement or contempt.  During our Lord's\nearthly life the supreme power belonged to the Roman Empire.  Though\nJesus had to suffer much at the hands of those in authority, His\nhabitual attitude was one of respect.  He lived in obedience to the\ngovernment of the country, and acknowledged the right of Caesar to\nlegislate and levy taxes in his own province.  While giving all\ndeference to the State officials before whom He was brought, He did not\nhesitate to remind them of the ideal of truth and justice of which they\nwere the chosen representatives.[19]  St. Paul's teaching is in harmony\nwith his Master's, and is indeed an expansion of it.[20]  'The powers\nthat be are ordained of God.  Render therefore to all their dues,\ntribute to whom tribute.'  Beyond, however, enjoining the necessity of\nwork as a means of independence, and recommending that each should\nremain in the sphere in which he has been placed, and perform\nconscientiously the duties of his calling, we {231} find little direct\nreference in the Epistles to the matter of citizenship.  But as has\nbeen truly said 'the citizen has but to stand in his station, and\nperform its duties, in order to fulfil the demands of citizenship.'[21]\nSt. Paul's insistence therefore upon the personal fidelity of every man\nto the duties of his sphere goes far to recognise that spirit of\nreciprocal service which is the fundamental idea of the commonwealth.\n\n3.  Of the two extreme views as to the meaning of the State between\nwhich the verdict of history has wavered--that of Augustine, who\nregarded the State as the result of man's sinful condition and as the\ndirect antithesis of the kingdom of God; and that of Hegel, who saw in\nit the highest ethical form of society, the realisation of the moral\nideal--the view of St. Paul may be said to have approximated more\nnearly to the latter.  Writing to the Christians at Rome Paul does not\nsuggest that it was merely for prudence' sake that they should give to\nthe Imperial Power unquestioning obedience.  He appeals to the loftiest\nmotives.  All authority is of God in its origin and ultimate purpose.\nWhat does it matter to him whether Nero be a devil or a saint?  He is\nthe prince upon the throne.  He is the symbol of divine authority, 'the\nminister of God to thee for good.'  As a Christian Paul looks beyond\nthe temporal world-power as actually existing.  Whatever particular\nform it may assume, he sees in the State and its rulers only the\nexpression of God's will.  Rome is His agent, oppressive, and, it may\nbe, unjust, but still the channel through which for the moment the\nAlmighty works for the furtherance of His purposes.[22]\n\nThe conception of the State as thus formulated involves a twofold\nobligation--of the State towards its citizens, and of its citizens\ntowards the State.\n\n(1) As the embodiment of public right the State owes protection to its\nsubjects, guarding individual privileges and prohibiting such actions\nas interfere with the general {232} good.  Its functions, however, are\nnot confined to restrictive measures.  Its duty is not only to protect\nthe rights of the individual, but to create and maintain such\nconditions of life as are essential to the development of personality.\nIn its own interests it is bound to foster the growth of character, and\nto promote culture and social well-being.  In modern times we look to\nthe State not only to protect life and property, but to secure for each\nindividual and for all classes of men that basis of material well-being\non which alone life in its truest sense can be built up.  The\ngovernment must therefore strike some kind of balance between the\nextremes of individualism and socialism.  While the old theory of\n_laissez-faire_, which would permit every man to follow his own\nindividual bent without regard to the interests of others, has been\ngenerally repudiated, there is still a class of politicians who\nridicule the 'night watchman' idea of the State as Lassalle calls it.\n'Let there be as little State as possible,' exclaims Nietzsche.\nAccording to such thinkers the State has only negative functions.  The\nbest government is that which governs least, and allows the utmost\nscope to untrammelled individual enterprise.  But if there is a\ntendency on the part of some to return to the individualistic\nprinciple, the 'paternal' idea as espoused by others is being carried\nto the verge of socialism.  The function of the State is stretched\nalmost to breaking point when it is conceived as the 'guardian angel'\nwho accompanies and guards with perpetual oversight the whole life of\nthe individual from the cradle to the grave.  Many of the more cautious\nwriters[23] of the day are exposing the dangers which lurk in the\nbureaucratic system of government.  This tendency is apt to crush\nindividual enterprise, and cause men to place entire reliance upon\nexternal aid and centralised power.  It is indeed difficult to draw a\nfast line of demarcation between purely individual and social ends.\nThere are obviously primary interests belonging to society as a whole\nwhich the State, if it is to be the instrument of the common good,\nought to control; certain {233} activities which, if permitted as\nmonopolies, become a menace to the community, and which can be\nsatisfactorily conducted only as departments of the State.  National\nlife is a unity, and it can only maintain its integrity as it secures\nfor all its constituents, justice, equity before the law, and freedom\nof each to be himself.  The State ought to protect those who in the\ncompetitive struggle of the modern industrial system find themselves at\na hopeless disadvantage.  It is the duty of the commonwealth to secure\nfor each the opportunity to become what he is capable of being, and to\nfulfil the functions for which he is best fitted.  The State cannot\nmake men moral, but it can interfere with existing conditions so as to\nmake the moral life easier for its citizens.  Criminal law cannot\ncreate saints, but it can punish evil-doers and counteract the forces\nof lawlessness which threaten the social order.  It cannot legislate\nwithin the domain of motive, but it can encourage self-restraint and\nthrift, honesty and temperance.  It cannot actually intermeddle with\nthe sanctity of the home, or assume the role of paternal authority, but\nit can insist upon the fulfilment of the conditions of decency and\npropriety; it can condemn insanitary dwellings, suppress traffic in\nvice, supervise unhealthy trades, protect the life and health of\nworkmen, and, generally, devise means for the culture and the\nadvancement, intellectually and morally, of the people.  The State in\nsome degree embodies the public conscience, and as such it has the\nprerogative of awakening and stimulating the consciences of\nindividuals.  As a divine institution it is one of the channels through\nwhich God makes His will known to man.  Law has an ethical import, and\nthe State which is founded upon just and beneficent laws moulds the\ncustoms and forms the characters of its citizens.\n\n(2) But if the State is to fulfil its ideal function it must rely upon\nthe general co-operation of its citizens.  The measure of its success\nor failure will depend upon the extent to which an enlightened sense of\nmoral obligation prevails in the community.  Men must rise above their\n{234} own immediate interests and realise their corporate being.\nGovernment makes its will dominant through the voice of the people.  It\ncannot legislate beyond the sympathies of its constituents.  As the\nindividuals are, so the commonwealth will be.  Civil duties vary\naccording to the qualifications and opportunities of individuals.  But\ncertain general obligations rest upon all.\n\n(_a_) It is the duty of all to take an _interest in public affairs_.\nWhat concerns us collectively is the concern of each.  Everything that\ntouches the public good should be made a matter of intelligent and\nwatchful interest by all.  (_b_) It is the duty of all to _conform to\nthe laws_ of the country.  It is possible that a particular enactment\nmay conflict with the dictates of conscience, and it may be necessary\nto protest against what seems to be an injustice.  No rule can be laid\ndown for exceptional cases.  Generally it will be best to submit to the\nwrong, while at the same time using all legitimate means to secure the\nrepeal of the obnoxious law.  And if they will revolt, martyrs must not\ncomplain nor be unready to submit to the penalties involved.  (_c_) It\nis the further duty of all to take some _personal part_ in the\ngovernment--if not by active service, at least by the conscientious\nrecording of one's vote.  Christians must not leave the direction of\nthe nation's affairs to non-Christians.  The spirit of Christ forbids\nmoral indifference to anything human.  All are not fitted for, or\ncalled upon to take, public office; but it is incumbent upon every man\nto maintain an intelligent public spirit, and to exercise all the\nduties of good citizenship.  It has been truly said that they who give\nmost to the State get most from the State.  It is the men who play\ntheir part as active citizens working for the nation's cause who enrich\ntheir own lives and reap the harvest of a full existence.  Not by\nwithdrawal from social service, but in untiring labour for their\ncountry's weal, shall men win for themselves and their brethren the\nfruits of liberty and peace.  For nations as for men emancipation may\ncome with a stroke, but freedom can be earned only by strenuous and\nunited toil.\n\n{235}\n\n(3) Already these ideals have begun to take shape.  The most\nsignificant feature of modern times is the growing spirit of democracy.\nMen of all classes are awakening to their rights, and are accepting\ntheir share in the task of social reconstruction.  'We know how the\nmasses,' says Eucken, 'are determined to form a mere dependent body of\nthe so-called higher classes no longer, but to take the problem of life\nindependently into their own hands.'[24]  But while the modern\ndemocratic movement is not without its hopeful aspects, it is fraught\nalso with grave perils.  It is well that the people should awake to\ntheir obligations, and realise the meaning of life, especially in its\nsocial implications.  But there is a danger that culture may not\nadvance with emancipation, and while the masses demand their rights\nthey may not at the same time discern their duties.  For rights involve\nduties, and emancipation, as we have seen, is not liberty.  The appeal\nof the socialistic party is to the equality of all who bear human\nfeatures.  It sounds plausible.  But there never has been, nor never\ncan be, such equality.  Nature and experience alike reveal a pronounced\nand insuperable inequality among men.  The law of diversity strikes\ndeep down into the very origin and constitution of mankind.  The\nequality proclaimed by the French Revolutionists is now regarded as an\nidle dream.  Not equality of nature but equity before the law, justice\nfor all, the opportunity for every man to realise himself and make the\nmost of the life and the gifts which God has given him--that is the\nonly claim which can be truly made.  'The only idea,' says Eucken,\n'which can give to equality any meaning is the conviction that humanity\nhas spiritual relations, that each individual has a value for himself\nand for the whole because he is a part of a larger spiritual world.'\nHence if democracy is truly to come to its own and fulfil its high\nvocation, the Pauline figure of the reciprocal influence of the body\nand its members must be proclaimed anew as the ideal of the body\npolitic--a unity fulfilling itself in difference--an organic life in\nwhich the unit finds its {236} place of security-and-service in the\nwhole, and the whole lives in and acts through the individual parts.\n\nIf we are to awaken to the high vocation of the Christian state, to\nrealise the possibilities of our membership one with another, a new\nfeeling of manhood and of national brotherhood, a new pride in the\ncommunity of life, must take possession of our hearts.  We need, as one\nhas said, a baptism of religious feeling in our corporate\nconsciousness, a new sense that we are serving God in serving our\nfellows, which will hallow and hearten the crusade for health and\nsocial happiness, and give to every citizen a sense of spiritual\nservice.\n\n\nIII\n\nUnlike the family and State the _Church_ is the creation of Jesus\nChrist.  It is the witness of His Presence in the world.  In its ideal\nform it is world-wide.  The Redemption for which it stands is a good\nfor all men.  Though in practice many do not acknowledge its blessing,\nthe Church regards no man beyond its pale of grace.  It is set in the\nmidst of the world as the symbol and pledge of God's universal love.\n\n1.  The _Relation of Church and State_ is a difficult question with a\nlong history, and involving much controversy.  Whatever view may be\nheld as to their legal connection, their interests can never be\nregarded as inimical.  The Church cannot be indifferent to the action\nof the State, nor can the State ignore the work of the Church.  But\nsince their spheres are not identical nor their aims entirely similar,\nthe trend of modern opinion seems to indicate that, while working in\nharmony, it is more satisfactory that they should pursue independent\npaths.  There are spiritual ends committed to the Church by its Head\nover which the civil power has no jurisdiction.  On the other hand\nthere are temporal concerns with which ecclesiastical courts have\nneither the vocation nor the qualifications to deal.  Still, the\nChurch, as the organ of Christian thought {237} and activity, has\nresponsibilities with regard to civil matters.  While religion is the\nchief agent in the regeneration of man, religion itself is dependent\nupon all social means, and the Church must regard with sympathy every\neffort made by the community for moral improvement.  The main function\nof the Church in this connection is to keep before its members a high\nideal of social life, to create a spirit of fidelity in every sphere of\nactivity, and, particularly, to educate men for the tasks of\ncitizenship.  The State, on the other hand, as the instrument of civic\nlife, has obligations towards the Church.  Its duty is hardly exhausted\nby observing an attitude of non-interference.  In its own interests it\nis bound, not merely to protect, but encourage the Church in the\nfulfilment of its immediate aims.  Parliament, however, must concede to\necclesiastical bodies complete liberty to govern themselves.  The\nChurch, as the institution of Christ, claims full autonomy; and the\nState goes beyond its province when it imposes hampering restrictions\nwhich interfere with the exercise of its authority and discipline\nwithin its own sphere.\n\n2.  As a religious institution the Church exists for three main\npurposes: (1) the _Worship_ of God and the Edification of its members;\n(2) the _Witness_ of Christ to Mankind; (3) the _Evangelisation_ of the\nWorld.\n\n(1) The first of these objects has already been dealt with when\ntreating of the duties to God.  It is only needful to add here that the\nChurch is more than a centre of worship; it is the home of kindred\nsouls knit together by a common devotion to Christ.  It is the school\nof character which seeks the mutual edification of its members 'by\nprovoking one another to love and to good works.'  Hence among\nProtestants the duty of _Church Discipline_ is acknowledged, which\ndeals with such sins or lapses from rectitude as constitute 'offences'\nor 'scandals,' and tend to bring into disrepute the Christian name and\nprofession.  In the Roman Church, the Confessional, through which moral\nerror is avowed, with its system of penances, has in view the same\nobject--viz., to reprove, correct, and reclaim {238} those who have\nlapsed into sin--thus seeking to fulfil Christ's ideal 'to despair of\nno man.'\n\n(2) But the Church is also a rallying place of service.  Both in its\ncorporate capacity, and through the lives of its individual members,\nthe Church seeks to bear constant _witness to the mind of Christ_.  It\nproclaims His living example.  It reiterates His will and embodies His\njudgment, approving of what is good, condemning what is evil, and ever\nmore confronting the world with the high ideal of the divine Life and\nWord.  Not all who bear the name of Christ are consistent witnesses.\nBut still the aim of the Church is to harmonise the profession and\npractice of its members, and generally to spiritualise secular life by\nthe education of public opinion.  Before, however, Christians can hope\nto make a profound impression upon the outside world, it is not\nunnatural to expect that they should exhibit a _spirit of concord_,\namong themselves, seeking to heal the unhappy schisms by which the\nChurch is rent.  But while our separations are deplorable--and we ought\nnot to cease our endeavour for the reunion of Christendom--we must not\nforget that there may be harmony of spirit even amid diversity of\noperation, and that where there is true brotherly sympathy between\nChristians, there already is essential unity.[25]\n\n(3) The special work of the Church to which it is constrained by the\nexpress terms of its Master's commission, is to _preach the Gospel_ to\nevery creature and to bring all men into obedience to Christ.  A\ndistinction is commonly made between Home and Foreign Missions.  While\nthe distinction is useful, it is scarcely valid.  The work of the\nChurch at home and abroad is one.  The claims of the ignorant and\nhapless of our own land do not exempt us from responsibilities to the\nheathen world.  The Lord's Prayer for the coming of the Kingdom\nrequires of Christian men that they shall consecrate their gifts along\nevery line of effort to the fulfilment of the divine will upon the\nearth.\n\n3.  While all sections of the Church are convinced that {239} an honest\napplication of the principles of Jesus to the practical affairs of life\nwould speedily transform society, there is considerable diversity of\nopinion as to the proper attitude of Christianity to _social problems_.\nThe outward reconstruction of social order was not, it must be\nadmitted, the primary aim of Jesus: it was rather the spiritual\nregeneration of the individual.  But such could only become a reality\nas it transformed the entire fabric of life.  (1) Christ's teaching\ncould not but affect the organisation of industry as well as every\nother section of the social structure.  Though Jesus has many warnings\nas to the perils of riches, there is no depreciation of wealth (in its\ntruest sense).  It is true He refuses to interfere in a dispute between\ntwo brothers as to worldly property, and repudiates generally the\noffice of arbiter.  It is true also that He warns His disciples against\ncovetousness, and lays down the principle that 'a man's life consisteth\nnot in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.'  But these\nsayings, so far from implying disapproval of earthly possessions, imply\nrather that property and trading are the indispensable basis upon which\nthe outward fabric of the social order is built.  Christ does not\ncounsel withdrawal from the activities of the world.  He honours work.\nHe recognises the legitimacy of trading.  Many of His parables would\nhave no meaning if His attitude to the industrial system of His day had\nbeen one of uncompromising hostility.  He has no grudge against riches\nin themselves.  In the parable of the talents it is the comparatively\npoor man who is censured while the rich is commended.  To sum up what\nJesus thought about wealth is not easy.  Many have thought that He\ncondemned the holding of property altogether.  But such a conclusion\ncannot be drawn from His teaching.  Possessions, both outward and\ninward, are rather to be brought to the test of His judgment.  His\ninfluence would rather bring property and commerce under the control of\nrighteousness and brotherhood.  His ideal of life is to be attained\nthrough learning the right use of wealth rather than through the\nabolition of it.  Wealth {240} can be used for the kingdom of God, and\nit is a necessary instrument in the Church's work.  It may be\nconsecrated like every other gift to the service of Christ.  But there\nare mighty forces enlisted against its best usefulness, and only\nthrough the fullness of Christian grace can its good work be done.\nWhat Jesus does condemn however is the predatory instinct, that greed\nof gain which embodies itself everywhere in the spirit of plunder,\nexploitation, and the impulse to gambling.  He can have nothing but\ncondemnation for that great wave of money-love which has swept over\nChristendom in our time, affecting all classes.  It has fostered\nself-indulgence, stimulated depraved appetites, corrupted business and\npolitics, oppressed the poor, materialised our ideals, and weakened\nreligious influences.  'From this craze of the love of money the voice\nof Jesus calls the people back to the sane life in Ethics and religion\nin which He is leader.'[26]  What then ought to be the attitude of the\nChurch to the industrial questions of our day?  While some contend that\nthe social question is really a religious question, and that the Church\nis untrue to its mission when it holds itself aloof from the economical\nproblems which are agitating men's minds, others view with suspicion,\nif not with hostility, the deflection of religion from its traditional\npath of worship, and deem it a mistake for the Church to interfere in\nindustrial movements.\n\nA recent writer[27] narrates that in his boyhood he actually heard an\nold minister of the Church of Scotland declare in the General Assembly,\n'We are not here to make the world better: we have only to pass through\nit on the way to glory.'  'No grosser travesty,' adds the author, 'was\never uttered.  We _are_ here to make the world better.  We have a\ncommission to stamp out evil and to prevent men from falling into it.\nIf this is not Christian work, what is?'\n\nAt the same time a portion of the clergy have gone to the opposite\nextreme, identifying the kingdom of God with social propaganda, and\nthus losing sight of its spiritual {241} and eternal, as well as its\npersonal, significance.  There has been moreover a tendency on the part\nof some to associate themselves with a political party, and to claim\nfor the Church the office of judge and arbitrator in industrial strife.\nBut surely it is one thing to degrade the Church to the level of a\nsecular society, and another, by witness and by effort, to make the law\nof Christ dominant over all the relationships of life.  Men are\nimpatiently asking, 'Has the Church no message to the new demands of\nthe age?  Are Christians to stand apart from the coming battle, and\npreach only the great salvation to individual souls?  _That_ the\nChristian minister must never cease to do; but the Gospel, if it is to\nmeet the needs of men, must be read in the light of history and\nexperience, and interpreted by the signs of the times.\n\n(2) The ground idea of Jesus' teaching was, as Troeltsch has pointed\nout,[28] the declaration of the kingdom of God.  Everything indeed is\nrelative to union with God, but in God man's earthly life is involved.\nTwo notes were therefore struck by Jesus, a note of individualism and a\nnote of universalism--love to God and love to man.  These notes do not\nreally conflict, but they became the two opposite voices of the Church,\nand gave rise to different ethical tendencies.  The first religious\ncommunities consisted of the poor and the enslaved.  It never occurred\nto them that they had civic rights: all they desired was freedom to\nworship Christ.  Not how to transform the social world, but how to\nmaintain their own religious faith without molestation in the world of\nunbelief and evil was their problem.\n\n(3) In the early Catholic Church the spirit of individualism ruled.\nWith the Reformation a new type of life was developed, and a new\nattitude to the social world was established.  But while Lutheranism\nsought to exercise its influence upon social life through state\nregulation, Calvinism was more individualistic, and sought rather to\n{242} enforce its teaching by means of the personal life.  The attitude\nof the various sects--Baptists, Pietists, Puritans--has been largely\nindividualistic, and instead of endeavouring to rectify the abuses of\nindustrial life they have been disposed rather to suffer the ills of\nthis evil world, finding in faith alone their compensation and solace.\n\nIn modern times the tendency of the Church, Romanist and Protestant\nalike, has been toward social regeneration; and a form of Christian\nSocialism has even appeared which however lacks unity of principle and\nuniformity of action.  The mediaeval idea of a Holy Roman Empire, in\nwhich all nations and classes were to be consolidated, is now admitted\nto be a dream incapable of realisation, partly because the idea itself\nis illusory, but principally because the hold of the Papacy upon the\npeople has been weakened.  The agitation, 'Los von Rom' on the one\nhand, and the 'Modernist' movement on the other, have tended to\ndissipate the unity and energy of Catholicism.  Nevertheless the\nChurch, which is really the society of Christian people, is coming to\nsee that it cannot close its eyes to questions which concern the daily\nlife of man, nor hold aloof from efforts which are working for the\nsocial betterment of the world.  To bring in the kingdom of God is the\nChurch's work, and it is becoming increasingly evident that the\nkingdom, if it is to come in any real and living sense, must come where\nJesus Himself founded it--upon the plane of this present life.\n\nThere are two considerations which make this work on the part of the\nChurch at once imperative and hopeful.  The first is that the Church is\nspecially called upon by the command and example of its Founder to\nrange itself on the side of the weak and helpless.  It is commanded to\nbring the principles of brotherly love to bear upon the conditions of\nlife which press most heavily upon the handicapped.  It is called on in\nthe spirit of its Master to rebuke the greed of gain and the callous\nselfishness which uses the toil, and even the degradation of others,\nfor its own personal enjoyment.  The Church only fulfils its function\nwhen {243} it is not only the consoler of the suffering but also the\nchampion of the oppressed.  And the other consideration is that in\nvirtue of its nature and charter the Church is enabled to appeal to\nmotives which the State cannot supply.  It brings all social obligation\nunder the comprehensive law of love.  It exalts the principle of\nbrotherhood.  It lifts up the sacrifice of Christ, and seeks to make it\npotent over the hearts of men.  It preaches the doctrine of humanity,\nand strives to win a response in all who are willing to acknowledge\ntheir common kinship and equality before God.  It appeals to masters\nand servants, to employers and labourers, to rich and poor, and bids\nthem remember that they are sharers alike of the Divine Mercy,\npensioners together upon their Heavenly Father's love.\n\n4.  Whatever shape the obligation of the Church may take in regard to\nthe social problems of the homeland, the duty of Christianity to the\nlarger world of Humanity admits of no question.  The ethical\nsignificance of the missionary movement of last century has been\npronounced by Wundt,[29] the distinguished historian of morals, as the\nmightiest factor in modern civilisation.  Speaking of humanity in its\nhighest sense as having been brought into the world by Christianity, he\nmentions as its first manifestation the care of the sick, and then\nadds, 'the second great expression of Christian humanity is the\nestablishment of missions.'  It is unnecessary to dwell upon this\nmodern form of unselfish enthusiasm.  It has its roots in the simple\nnecessity, on the part of the morally awakened, of sharing their best\nwith other people.  'Man grows with the greatness of his purposes,' and\nno greater ideal task has ever presented itself to the imagination of\nman than this mighty attempt to conquer the world for Christ, and give\nto his brother men throughout the earth that which has raised and\nenriched himself.[30]\n\n'The two great forming agencies in the world's history,' says a\nprominent political economist, 'have been the {244} religious and the\neconomic.'[31]  On the one hand the economic is required as the basis\nof civilisation, but on the other the supreme factor is religion.  The\ncommercial impulse, carried on independently of any higher motive than\nself-interest, has however not infrequently reacted favourably on the\nmoral life of the race.  Mutual understanding, the sense of a common\nhumanity, the virtues of honesty, fairness, and confidence upon which\nall legitimate commerce is founded, have paved the way in no small\ndegree for the message of brotherhood and mercy.  The present hour is\nthe Church's opportunity.  Already the world has been opened up, the\nnations of the earth are awakening to the greatness of life's\npossibilities.  The danger is that the Oriental peoples should become\nsatisfied with the mere externals of civilisation, and miss that which\nwill assure their complete emancipation.  Christianity was born in the\nEast, though it has become the inheritance of the West.  It is adapted\nby its genius to all men.  And undoubtedly the West has no better boon\nto confer on the East than that on which its own life and hope are\nfounded--the religion of Jesus Christ.  If we do not give that, we are\nunfaithful to our Master's call; we falsify our own history, and wholly\nmiss the purpose for which we have been entrusted with divine\nenlightenment and power.\n\n\n\n[1] Lofthouse, _Ethics of the Family_, p. 77.\n\n[2] _Hist. of Human Marriage_, p. 538.\n\n[3] The literature on this subject is enormous.  See specially works of\nWestermarck, M'Lennan, Frazer, Hobhouse, Andrew Lang, and Ihering.\n\n[4] See chap. vii. in Garvie's _Studies in Inner Life of Jesus_.\n\n[5] Matt. viii. 21, 22; Luke ix. 59-62.\n\n[6] Luke xiv. 26; Matt. x. 37.\n\n[7] Mark x. 29, 30.\n\n[8] Matt. xix. 12.\n\n[9] Matt. v. 32, xix. 3-10; Mark x. 11, 12.\n\n[10] See Forsyth, _Marriage: its Ethics and Religion_.\n\n[11] King, _Ethics of Jesus_, p. 69.\n\n[12] Stalker, _Ethics of Jesus_, p. 336.\n\n[13] Though Nietzsche does not use the word he may be regarded as the\nfather of modern eugenics.\n\n[14] Cf. Ramsay Macdonald, _Socialism_.\n\n[15] Mark vii. 9-13.\n\n[16] Cf. King, _The Moral and Religious Challenge of our Times_, pp. 42\nf.\n\n[17] Cf. W. Wallace, _Lects. and Addresses_, p. 114.\n\n[18] _Aus Leben und Wissenschaft_.\n\n[19] Matt. xii. 18-22; John xviii. 23, xix. 10 f.\n\n[20] Rom. xiii.\n\n[21] Sir H. Jones, _Idealism as a Practical Creed_, p. 123.\n\n[22] Some sentences are here borrowed from author's _Ethics of St.\nPaul_.\n\n[23] _E.g._ Eucken, Kindermann, Mallock, and earlier H. Spencer.\n\n[24] _Life's Ideal and Life's Basis_.\n\n[25] Eph. iv. 3.\n\n[26] Clarke, _Ideal of Jesus_, p. 258.\n\n[27] Watson, _Social Advance_.\n\n[28] _Die Soziallehren der Christlichen Kirchen und Gruppen_, a recent\nwork on social ethics of great erudition and importance.\n\n[29] _Ethik_, vol. ii.\n\n[30] King, _The Moral and Religious Challenge of our Times_, pp. 44 and\n346.\n\n[31] Marshall, _Principles of Economics_.\n\n\n\n\n{245}\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nCONCLUSION--THE PERMANENCE OF CHRISTIAN ETHICS\n\nIn bringing to a close our study of Christian Ethics, we repeat that\nthe three dominant notes of the Christian Ideal are--Absoluteness,\nInwardness, and Universality.  The Gospel claims to be supreme in life\nand morals.  The uniqueness and originality of the Ethics of\nChristianity are to be sought, however, not so much in the range of its\npractical application as in the unfolding of an ideal which is at once\nthe power and pattern of the new life.  That ideal is Christ in whom\nthe perfect life is disclosed, and through whom the power for its\nrealisation is communicated.  Life is a force, and character a growth\narising in and expanding from a hidden seed.  Hence in Christian Ethics\napathy and passivity, and even asceticism and quietism, which occupy an\nimportant place in the moral systems of Buddha and Neo-Platonism, in\nmediaeval Catholicism and the teaching of Tolstoy, play only a\nsubsidiary part, and are but preparatory stages towards the realisation\nof a fuller life.  On the contrary all is life, energy, and unceasing\nendeavour.  'I am come that ye may have life, and that ye may have it\nmore abundantly.'\n\nThere is no finality in Christian Ethics.  It is not a mechanical and\ncompleted code.  The Ethic of the New Testament, just because it has\nits spring in the living Christ, is an inexhaustible fountain of life.\n'True Christianity,' says Edward Caird, 'is not something which was\npublished in Palestine, and which has been handed down by a dead\ntradition ever since; it is a living and growing {246} spirit, and\nlearns the lessons of history, and is ever manifesting new powers and\nleading on to new truths.'\n\nThe teaching of Jesus is not merely temporary or local.  It is an utter\nperversion of the Gospels to make the eschatology present in them the\nmaster-key to their meaning, or to derive the ethical ideal from the\nutterances which anticipate an abrupt and immediate end.  Jesus spoke\nindeed the language of His time and race, and often clothed His\nspiritual purpose in the form of national expectation.  But to base His\nmoral maxims on an 'Interim-Ethic' adapted to a transitory world is to\n'distort the perspective of His teaching, and to rob it of its unity\nand insight.'  On the contrary, the Ethics of Jesus are everywhere\ncharacterised by adaptability, universality, and permanence, and in His\nattitude to the great problems of life there is a serenity and sympathy\nwhich has nothing in common with the nervous and excited expectation of\nsudden catastrophe.\n\nIn like manner it is a misinterpretation of the teaching of Jesus to\nrepresent asceticism as the last word of Christian Ethics.\nRenunciation and unworldliness are undoubtedly frequently commended in\nthe New Testament, but they are urged not as ends in themselves but as\nmeans to a fuller self-realisation.  Such was not the habitual temper\nand tone of Jesus in His relations to the world, nor was the ultimate\npurpose of His mission to create a type of manhood whose perfection lay\nin withdrawal from the interests and obligations of life.  'To single\nout a teaching of non-resistance as the core of the Gospels, to retreat\nfrom social obligations in the name of one who gladly shared them and\nwas called a friend of wine-bibbers and publicans--all this, however\nheroic it may be, is not only an impracticable discipleship but a\nhistorical perversion.  It mistakes the occasionalism of the Gospels\nfor universalism.'[1]\n\nFinally, there are many details of modern social well-being with which\nthe New Testament does not deal, questions of present-day ethics and\neconomics which cannot be decided by a direct reference to chapter and\n{247} verse, either of the Gospels or Epistles.  The problems of life\nshift with the shifting years, but the nature of life remains\nunchanged, and responds to the life and the spirit of Him who was, and\nremains down the ages, the Light of men.  The individual virtues of\nhumility, purity of heart, and self-sacrifice are not evanescent, but\nare now and always the pillars of Christian Ethics; while the great\nprinciples of human solidarity, of brotherhood and equality in Christ,\nof freedom, of love, and service; the New Testament teachings\nconcerning the family, the State, and the kingdom of God; our Lord's\nprecepts with regard to the sacredness of the body and the soul, the\nduty of work, the stewardship of wealth, and the accountability to God\nfor life with its variety of gifts and tasks--contain the germ and\npotency of all personal and social transformation and renewal.\n\n\n\n[1] Prof. Peabody, _Harvard Theological Review_, May 1913.\n\n\n\n\n{248}\n\nBIBLIOGRAPHY\n\nA.--GENERAL WORKS ON ETHICS\n\nI. ENGLISH WORKS\n\n1. _Early Idealism and Intuitionalism_.\n\nHobbes, 1650; Mandeville, 1714; Cudworth, 1688; Cumberland, 1672; Sam.\nClarke, 1704; Shaftesbury, 1713; Butler, 1729; Hutchison, 1756; Adam\nSmith, 1759; R. Price, 1757; Thom. Reid, 1793; Dugald Stewart, 1793; W.\nWhewell, 1848; H. Calderwood, _Handbook of Mor. Phil._, 1872;\nMartineau, _Types of Ethical Theory_, 1886; Laurie, _Ethics_, 1885; N.\nPorter, _Elements of Moral Science_, 1885.\n\n\n2. _Utilitarianism_.\n\nLocke, _Concerning Human Understanding_, 1690;  Hartley, _Observations\non Man_, 1748; Hume, _Enquiry Concerning Principles of Morals_, 1751;\n_Essays_, 1742; Paley, _Principles of Mor. and Political Phil._, 1785;\nBentham, _Introd. to Principles of Morals and Legislation_, 1789; Jas.\nMill, _Analysis of the Human Mind_, 1829; J. S. Mill, _Utilitarianism_,\n1863; A. Bain, _Mental and Moral Science_, 1868; _Mind and Body_, 1876;\nH. Sidgwick, _Methods of Ethics_ (6th ed.), 1901; Shadworth Hodgson,\n_Theory of Practice_, 1870; T. Fowler, _Progressive Morality_, 1884;\nGrote, _Examination of Utilitarian Ethics_, 1870.\n\n\n3. _Evolutionary Ethics_.\n\nChas. Darwin, _Descent of Man_, 1871; Herbert Spencer, _Principles of\nEthics_ and _Data of Ethics_, 1879; W. K. Clifford, _Lectures and\nEssays_, 1879; Leslie Stephen, _Science of Ethics_, 1882; S. Alexander,\n_Moral Order and Progress_, 1889; Shurman, _Ethical Import of\nDarwinism_; Huxley, _Evolution and Ethics_; Hobhouse, _Morals in\nEvolution_ (2 vols.), 1906; Westermarck, _Origin and Development of the\nMoral Ideas_, 1909.\n\n\n4. _Modern Idealism_.\n\nT. H. Green, _Proleg. to Ethics_, 1883; F. H. Bradley, _Ethical\nStudies_, 1876; _Appearance and Reality_, 1893; E. Caird, _Crit. Phil.\nof Kant_, 1890; _Evolution of Religion_, 1903; W. R. Sorley, _Ethics of\nNaturalism_, 1885; _Recent Tendencies in Ethics_, 1904; _The Moral\nLife_, 1912; W. L. Courtney, _Constructive Ethics_, 1886; J. S.\nMackenzie, _Introd. to Social Philos._, 1890; _Manual of Ethics_ (4th\ned.), 1900; W. Wallace, _Lectures and Essays_, 1898; Muirhead,\n_Elements of Ethics_, 1892; Rashdall, _Theory of Good and Evil_; Boyce\nGibson, _A Philos. Introd. to Ethics_, 1904; Ward, _Kingdom of Ends_\n(Gifford Lect.), 1910; Bosanquet, _Principles of Individuality and\nValue_, 1912; _Value and Destiny of the Individual_ (Gifford Lects.),\n1913; _Psychology of the Moral Self_; D'Arcy, _Short Study of Ethics_;\nW. Arthur, _Physical and Moral Law_; Jas. Seth, _Study of Ethical\nPrinciples_ (11th ed.), 1910; Ryland, _Manual of Ethics_; G. E. Moore,\n_Principia Ethica_, 1903; _Ethics_ (Home Univ. Lib.), 1912; MacCunn,\n_Making of Character_, 1905; _Ethics of Citizenship_, 1907; _Six\nRadical Thinkers_, 1907; Bowne, _Principles of Ethics; Immanence of\nGod_, 1906; Dewey, _Outlines of a Crit. Theory of Ethics_, 1891;\nHarris, _Moral Evolution_; Hyslop, _Elements of Ethics_, 1895; Mezes,\n_Ethics, Descriptive and Explanatory_, 1901; Royce, _Religious Aspects\nof Philosophy; Philosophy of Loyalty_, 1908; Taylor, _Problem of\nConduct_; Rand, _The Classical Moralists_ (Selections), 1910.\n\n\nII. FOREIGN WORKS\n\nKant's works, specially _Metaphysics of Ethics_, trans. by T. K.\nAbbott, under title, _Kant's Theory of Ethics_ (3rd ed.), 1883; Fichte,\n_Science of Ethics_ (trans.), 1907; _Science of Rights_ (trans.);\n_Popular Works_ (2 vols.); _Vocation of Man_, etc.; Hegel, _Philosophy\nof Right_, trans. by S. W. Dyde, 1896; Lotze, _Practical Philosophy,\n_1890; Paulsen, _System of Ethics_, trans. by Tufts; Wundt, _Ethics, An\nInvestigation of the Facts and Laws of the Moral Life_ (3 vols.),\ntrans. from 2nd German ed., 1892; Dubois, _The Culture of Justice_;\nGuyot, _La Morale_; Janet, _Theory of Morals_ (trans.); Nietzsche's\n_Works_, translated by Oscar Levy (18 vols.); Eucken, _The Problem of\nHuman Life_, 1912; _Life's Basis and Life's Ideal_, 1912; _Meaning and\nValue of Life_, 1912; _Main Current of Modern Thought_, 1912; _The Life\nof the Spirit_, 1909; Hensel, _Hauptproblem der Ethik_, 1903; Lipps,\n_Die Ethischen Grundfragen_, 1899; Natorp, _Social-paedagogik_;\nSchuppe, _Grundzuege der Ethik_; Wentscher, _Ethik_; Schwarz, _Das\nSittliche Leben_; L. Levy-Bruhl, _Ethics and Moral Science_, trans. by\nEliz. Lee, 1905; Windelband, _Praeludien. ueber Willensfreiheit_; Bauch,\n_Glueckseligkeit und Persoenlichkeit in der krit. Ethik_; {250}\n_Sittlichkeit und Kuttur_; Cohen, _Ethik des Reinen Willens_, 1904;\nDilthey, _Einleitung in die Geisteswissenschaften_; Ihering, _Der Zweck\nim Recht_ (2 Bde.), 1886; Cathrein, _Moral. Philosophie_ (2 Bde.),\n1904; Tonnies, _Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft_, 1887.\n\n\nB.--CHRISTIAN ETHICS\n\nI. GENERAL\n\nHarless, _Christl. Ethik_, 1842 (trans.), 1868; Schleiermacher, _Die\nChristl. Sitte_, 1843; Marheineke, _System d. Christl. Moral_, 1847;\nBothe, _Theol. Ethik_, 1845; De Wette, _Lehrbuch d. Christl.\nSittenlehre_, 1853; Ch. F. Schmid, _Christl. Sittenlehre_, 1861; A.\nWuttke, _Handbuch d. Christl. Sittenlehre_, 1861 (trans., 2 vols., J.\nP. Lacroix, 1873); F. P. Cobbe, _Religious Duty_, 1864; _Studies\nEthical and Social_, 1865; Seeley, _Ecce Homo_, 1886; Maurice, _Social\nMorality_, 1872; _Conscience_, 1872; Wade, _Christianity and Morality_,\n1876; Hofmann, _Theol. Ethik_, 1878; Lange, _Grundriss d. Christl.\nEthik_, 1878; Martensen, _Christl. Ethik_ (trans., 3 vols.), 1878;\nGregory Smith, _Characteristics of Christian Morality_, 1876; O.\nPfleiderer, _Grundriss d. Glaubens und Sittenlehre_, 1880; Luthardt,\n_Vortraege ueber die Moral d. Christenthums_, 1882; S. Leathes,\n_Foundations of Morality_, 1882; Frank, _System d. Christl.\nSittenlehre_, 1885; Westcott, _Social Aspects of Christianity_, 1887;\nW. T. Davidson, _The Christian Conscience_, 1888; Balfour, _The\nReligion of Humanity_, 1888; Maccoll, _Christianity in Relation to\nScience and Morals_, 1889; Stanton, _Province of Christian Ethics_,\n1890; Hughes, _Principles of Natural and Supernatural Morals_, 1890; W.\nG. Lilly, _Right and Wrong_, 1890; Bright, _Morality in Doctrine_,\n1892; Schultz, _Grundriss d. Evangelischen Ethik_, 1891; Newman Smyth,\n_Christian Ethics_, 1892; Dowden, _Relation of Christian Ethics to\nPhilos. Ethics_, 1892; Jas. Drummond, _Via, Veritas, Vita_ (Hib.\nLect.), 1894; Jacoby, _Neukstamentliche Ethik_, 1889; Salwitz, _Das\nProblem d. Ethik_, 1891; Knight, _The Christian Ethic_, 1893; Jas.\nKidd, _Morality and Religion_, 1895; Strong, _Christian Ethics_, 1897;\nTroeltsch, _Die Christl. Ethik und die heutige Gesellschaft_, 1904;\n_Die Sociallehren d. Christl. Kirchen u. Gruppen_ (2 vols.), 1912;\n_Protestantism and Progress_, 1912; Lemme, _Christl. Ethik._ (2 vols.),\n1908; Kirn, _Grundriss d. Theol. Ethik_, 1909; _Sitlliche\nLebenanschauungen d. Geigenwart_, 1911; Nash, _Ethics and Revelation_;\nDobschuetz, _The Christian Life in the Primitive Church_; Clark, _The\nChurch and the Changing Order_; Ottley, _Christian Ideas and Ideals_,\n1909; Clark Murray, _Handbook of Christian Ethics_, 1908; Henry W.\nClark, _The Christian Method of Ethics_, 1908; Rauschenbusch,\n_Christianity and the Social Crisis_, 1908; Geo. Matheson, _Landmarks\nof New Testament Morality_, 1888; J. Smith, _Christian Character and\nSocial Power_; Gladden, _Applied Christianity_; J. R. Campbell,\n_Christianity and the Social Order_; Coe, _Education in Religion and\nMorals_; Peile, _The Reproach of the Gospel_; Gottschick, _Ethik_,\n1907; W. Schmidt, _Der Kampf um die Sittliche Welt_, 1906; Herrmann,\n_Ethik_, 1909; _Faith and Morals, Communion of the Christian with God_;\nA. E. Balch, _Introduction to the Study of Christian Ethics_;\nKirkpatrick, _Christian Character and Conduct_; Church, _Outlines of\nChristian Character_; Paget, _Christian Character_; Illingworth,\n_Christian Character; Personality, Human and Divine_; R. Mackintosh,\n_Christian Ethics_, 1909; Haering, _The Ethics of the Christian Life_\n(trans.), 1909; Barbour, _A Philos. Study of Christian Ethics_, 1911;\nStubbs, _Christ and Economics_; W. S. Bruce, _Social Aspects of\nChristian Morality_, 1905; _Formation of Christian Character_; Harper,\n_Christian Ethics and Social Progress_, 1912; T. C. Hall, _Social\nSolutions in the Light of Christian Ethics_, 1911.\n\n\n\nII. SPECIAL SUBJECTS\n\n1. _Ethics of Jesus_.\n\nBriggs, _Ethical Teaching of Jesus_; P. Brooks, _Influence of Jesus_;\nDale, _Laws of Christ for Common Life_; Feddersen, _Jesus und die\nSocialen Dinge_; Gardner, _Exploratio Evangelica_; Ehrhardt, _Der\nGrundcharacter d. Ethik Jesu_, 1895; Grimm, _Die Ethik Jesu_, 1903;\nPeabody, _Jesus Christ and the Christian Character_, 1905; _Jesus\nChrist and the Social Question_, 1902; _The Approach to the Social\nQuestion_, 1909; King, _The Ethics of Jesus_, 1910; _Moral and Social\nChallenge of our Times_, 1912; Rau, _Die Ethik Jesu_; Stalker, _Imago\nChristi_, 1888; _The Ethic of Jesus_, 1909; Mathews, _The Social\nTeaching of Jesus_; Horton, _The Commandments of Jesus_; W. N. Clarke,\n_The Ideal of Jesus_, 1911.\n\n\n2. _Teaching of Jesus and Apostles_.\n\n_Works_ of A. B. Bruce; Gilbert, _Revelation of Jesus_; Harnack, _What\nis Christianity?_ (Das Wesen); _Sayings of Jesus_; Juelicher,\n_Gleichnissreden Jesu_; Denney, _Jesus and the Gospel_, 1909; Latham,\n_Pastor Pastorum_; Moorhouse, Pullan, Ross, Von Schrenck, Stevens,\nSwete; Tolstoy, _My Religion_; Wendt, _Lehre Jesu_ (2 ed.), 1901;\nWeizsaecker, _The Apostolic Age_; Hausrath, _History of N. T. Times_;\nFairbairn, _Christ in Modern Thought_; D. La Touche, _The Person of\nChrist in Modern Thought_, 1911; Pfanmueller, _Jesus im Urtheil d.\nJahrhunderte_; Bacon, _Jesus, the Son of God_; Dalman, _Words of\nJesus_; Baur, _Paulinismus_; Bosworth, _Teaching of Jesus and\nApostles_; Pfleiderer, _Paulinismus; Primitive Christianity_;\nJohan-Weiss, _Paul and Jesus_; Gardner, _Relig. Experience of St.\nPaul_; Alexander, _Ethics of St. Paul_.\n\n\n{252}\n\nC.--HISTORY OF ETHICS\n\nSee Histories of Philosophy: Ueberweg, Erdmann, Windelband, Schwegler,\nMaurice, Rogers; Alexander, _A Short History of Philosophy_ (2nd ed.),\n1908; Lecky, _Hist. of Europ. Morals_; Luthardt, _History of Ethics_;\nRogers, _A Short History of Ethics_, 1912; Thoma, _Geschichte d.\nChristl. Sittenlehre in der Zeit d. N. T._, 1879; Wundt (_Vol. II. of\nEthics_); Wuttke (_Vol. I. of Ethics_); Sidgwick, _History of Ethics_;\nZiegler, _Gesch. d. Ethik_; Jodl, _Gesch. d. Ethik in d. Neueren\nPhilosophie_; T. C. Hall, _History of Ethics within Organized\nChristianity_, 1910.  See also Relevant Articles in Bible Dictionaries,\nespecially Hastings' _Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics_.\n\n\n\n\n{253}\n\nINDEX\n\n  Activism, 117, 122, 179.\n  Adiaphora, 201.\n  Aestheticism, 15 f., 108.\n  Alquin, 2.\n  Apocalyptic teaching of Christ, 133.\n  Aquinas, Thomas, 2, 196.\n  Aristotle, 10, 17 f., 40 f., 66, 70, 87, 107, 187.\n  Arnold, Matthew, 1, 107.\n  Asceticism, 129, 150, 192, 245.\n  Assimilation to Christ, 179.\n  Atonement, 166.\n  Augustine, 30, 57 f., 66, 140, 231.\n  Aurelius, Marcus, 43, 70.\n  Avenarius, 86.\n\n  Balch, 132, 133.\n  Barbour, 41, 135, 157, 159, 161.\n  Baur, 39.\n  Beatitudes, 129, 136, 188.\n  Beneficence, 213.\n  Bentham, 103, 204.\n  Bergson, 64, 91 f., 117 f.\n  Bernard, 218.\n  Blewett, Christian view of God, 170.\n  Bosanquet, 16, 27, 64, 92, 113, 114.\n  Bousset, 134, 135.\n  Brotherhood, 145, 210, 243, 247.\n  Browning, 3, 16, 60, 63, 77, 119, 131, 132, 138, 206, 218.\n  Bunsen, 69.\n  Burckhardt, 227.\n  Burke, 204.\n  Burkitt, 32.\n  Burnet, 41.\n  Burns, Robert, 204.\n  Butcher, 41.\n  Butler, Bishop, 166.\n\n  Caird, E., 44, 60, 64, 245.\n  ---- J., 63.\n  Cairns, 135.\n  Calixtas, G., 2.\n  Calvinism, 2, 57, 241.\n  Cambridge Platonists, 39.\n  Campbell, 69.\n  Chamberlain, Houston, 48.\n  Character, 6, 10, 14, 15, 24, 186;\n    making of, 208.\n  Childhood, children, 226 f.\n  Christ, 1, 4, 5, 11 f., 124;\n    as example, 146 f.;\n    character of, 148 f., 150.\n  Christianity, 123 f.\n  Church, 4, 209, 236 ff.\n  Citizenship, 39, 151, 233 f.\n  Clarke, 240.\n  Clement, 2, 39.\n  Coleridge, 3.\n  Collectivism, 106.\n  Compassion, 212.\n  Conduct, 1, 6, 13, 15, 183 f.\n  Conscience, 68 f.\n  Conversion, 171.\n  Courage, 38, 186, 187, 190.\n  Cousin, 16.\n  _Creative Evolution_, 117.\n  Croce, Benedetto, 117.\n  Culture, 16, 99, 108, 130, 148, 156, 207, 208.\n\n  Daemon of Socrates, 69.\n  Danaeus, 2.\n  Dante, 125, 138.\n  Darwin, 74.\n  David, Psalms, 48 f., 70.\n  Davidson, 69, 81.\n  Death of Christ, 166.\n  Decalogue, 2, 45, 72.\n  Deissmann, 162.\n  Democracy, 235.\n  Denney on Forgiveness, 163.\n  Descartes, 204.\n  Determinism, 88 f.\n  Dewey, Professor, 64.\n  Disinterestedness of motive, 156 f.\n  Divorce, 224.\n  Dobschuetz, 134.\n  Dogmatics, 3, 24 f.\n  Dorner, 25 f.\n  Drew, 31.\n  Duty, Duties, 8, 21, 52, 196 ff.\n  Dynamic of new life, 164 f.\n\n  'Ecce Homo,' 152, 205.\n  Ecclesiasticism, 3, 49.\n  Economics, 17, 239.\n  Ehrhardt, 151.\n  Emerson on Example, 151.\n  Empire, Roman, 43; 'Holy,' 242.\n  Engels, 105.\n  Epictetus, 43, 70.\n  Epicureans, 42.\n  Erinnyes of Aeschylus, 69.\n  Eschatology, 133 f.\n  Eternal life, 131.\n  Ethics, Christian, 1 f., 5, 6, 10 ff;\n    Philos., 22, 35 f., 168;\n    permanence of, 245.\n  ---- of Israel, 44 ff.\n  Eucken, 86, 93, 108, 115, 117, 121 f., 179, 203, 207, 235.\n  Eugenics, 110, 255.\n  Euripides, 69.\n  Evil, 57 f., 62, 118.\n  Evolutionalism, 74 f., 103 f.\n  Example, human, 151, 214 f.;\n    of Jesus, 140, 222 f.\n  Externalism, 142 f.\n\n  Fairbairn, A. M., 147.\n  Faith, 65, 67, 174 f., 196, 216;\n    Pauline doct., 177.\n  Faithfulness, 200, 203, 216, 224, 231.\n  Faith healing, 90.\n  Family, 220 f.; relationships, 222, 226.\n  Fatherhood of God, 141, 145, 153, 216.\n  Feuerbach, 101.\n  Fichte, 65, 112, 204.\n  Forgiveness, divine, 153; human, 214.\n  Forsyth, 224.\n  'Foundations,' 173.\n  Frazer, 29, 221.\n\n  Garvie, 222.\n  God, idea of, 26; sovereignty of, 27; fatherhood of, 27;\n    love of, 28; recognition of, 215; obedience to, 216;\n    worship of, 217.\n  Godlikeness, 141, 218.\n  Goethe, 58, 81, 107, 130, 212.\n  Grace, means of, 209.\n  Graces, 188.\n  Grant, Sir A., on 'Mean,' 185.\n  Greece, Ancient, 11, 35.\n  Greeks, 16, 28, 69.\n  Green, T. H., 18, 75, 77, 88, 187, 218.\n\n  Haeckel, 86, 101.\n  Haering, 21, 25, 156, 201.\n  Harnack, 176, 205, 228.\n  Hebrew, 35, 44.\n  Hedonism, 104.\n  Hegel, 9, 19, 55, 65, 112 f., 124, 204, 213, 231.\n  Heraclitus, 37.\n  Hermann, E., 125.\n  Herrmann, 202.\n  Hobbes, 57, 102.\n  Hobhouse, 221.\n  Holiness, 141; of Jesus, 149.\n  Hope, 47, 197 f.\n  Huegel, von, 126.\n  Hume, 18.\n  Hypnotism, 90.\n  Hyslop, 14.\n\n  Ideals, 6, 12; idealism, 107, 127 f.\n  Ihering, 221.\n  Immanence of God, 43, 93.\n  Immortality, 155.\n  Incarnation, 165 f.\n  Indeterminism, 88.\n  Individualism, 107, 204, 205.\n  Inge, 16.\n  Intellect and Intuition, 65, 118.\n  Intellectualism, 64, 65, 114, 118.\n  Intensity of life, 129 f.\n  _Interimsethik_, 134 f., 246.\n  Intuitionalism, 72.\n  Irenaeus, 166.\n  Israel, 35, 44, 70.\n\n  Jacoby, 25, 142, 157.\n  James, St., 29.\n  ---- W., 56, 65, 66, 89 f., 114 f., 172.\n  Jones, Sir H., 132, 219, 231.\n  Judaeism, Ethics of, 45.\n  Judgment, final, 140; just judgment, 212.\n  Justice, 32, 38, 172, 187 f., 210, 233.\n  Justification by faith, 177.\n\n  Kant, 13, 65 f., 74, 111 f., 152, 158, 162, 185, 204.\n  Keim, 151.\n  King, 134, 224, 227, 243.\n  Kingdom of God, 132 f.\n  Kirkup, 105.\n  Knight, 36.\n\n  Lassalle, 232.\n  Law, Mosaic, 45 f., 70.\n  Lecky, 43, 66, 211, 217.\n  Lemme, 25, 79 f.\n  Leonardo, 92.\n  Lidgett, 27.\n  Life, 12, 118; as ideal, 128; as vocation, 200;\n    regard for, 207; as Godlikeness, 141; sacredness of, 142;\n    Christ as standard of, 147; brevity of, 154; 'eternal,' 131.\n  Lodge, Sir O., 172.\n  Lofthouse, 221.\n  Logic, 15, 118.\n  Lotze, 88.\n  Love, supremacy of, 28, 196 f; divine, 144, 153.\n  Luetgert, 108.\n\n  Maccabean age, 48.\n  MacCunn, 203.\n  Macdonald, Ramsay, 220.\n  Mach, 85 f.\n  Machiavelli, 70.\n  Mackenzie, 13, 14, 19.\n  Mackintosh, 26, 199.\n  Macmillan, 112.\n  Mallock, 232.\n  Man, estimate of, 55 ff.; primitive, 57.\n  Mark, St., 32.\n  Marriage, 223, 225.\n  Marshall, 224.\n  Martensen, 25.\n  Marx, 105.\n  Massachusetts, 'Declaration of Rights,' 205.\n  Matheson, Geo., 194.\n  Mazzini on Rights, 203.\n  'Mean' of Aristotle, 40, 185.\n  Metaphysics, 3, 10, 17 f., 25, 37.\n  Meyers, St. Paul, 168, 217.\n  Micah, 47.\n  Mill, J. S., 32, 103.\n  Millar, Hugh, 56.\n  Milton, 58.\n  Mission of Jesus, 149.\n  Missionary movement, 243.\n  Moffatt, 134.\n  Morality, 10, 37 f.\n  Morals, 24.  See Ethics.\n  Morris, 92.\n  Motives, 6, 10; Christian, 152 f.\n  Muirhead, 14.\n  Murray, 55, 58.\n  Mueller, Max, 58.\n\n  Nativism, 72.\n  Naturalism, 100 ff.\n  Nemesis, 69.\n  Neo-Platonism, 39 f., 40, 44, 245.\n  'New Ethic,' 108.\n  Nietzsche, 58, 109, 225, 232.\n  Nine Foundation Pillars of Schmiedel, 31.\n  Norm, Normative, 12, 146.\n  Novalis, 16, 25.\n\n  Obedience, 178.\n  Old Dispensation, 45.\n  Origin, 39.\n  Orr, J., 142.\n  Oswald, 86.\n  Ottley, 59, 61, 209, 213.\n  'Ought,' 12, 21, 80.\n\n  Paine, 204.\n  Parables of the kingdom, 137.\n  Parents, 226.\n  Parker, Theodore, 56.\n  Pascal, 57, 59.\n  Passions, 41, 58, 191.\n  Paul, St., 22, 26, 30 f., 43, 47, 57 f.,\n    66, 70, 77, 94 f., 162, 173, 177.\n  Paulsen, 10, 151, 199.\n  Peabody, 148, 150, 246.\n  Pelagius, 56.\n  Penalty, 162.\n  _Pensees_, 59.\n  Perfection, spiritual, 27, 141.\n  Permissible, 202.\n  Personality, 6, 55 f., 61, 112, 113, 122, 209, 213.\n  Pfleiderer, 44.\n  Pharisaism, 143.\n  Philosophy, 4, 5, 9, 35 f.\n  Plato, 18 f., 37 ff., 66, 107, 184, 187.\n  Pluralism, 116.\n  Poetry of Old Testament, 45 f., 48.\n  Politics, 15 f.\n  Postulates, 6, 18, 22, 25, 29.\n  Power, divine, 164 f.\n  Pragmatism, 63, 114 f.\n  Prayer, 217.\n  Pringle-Pattison, 103.\n  Property, 213.\n\n  Rashdall, 27.\n  Realisation of self, 128.\n  Reformation, 2, 11, 47.\n  Regeneration, 171.\n  Regret, 171.\n  Renewal, 171.\n  Renunciation of Gospel, 156.\n  Repentance, 171.\n  Response, human, 169.\n  Responsibility of man, 29.  See Will.\n  Resurrection of Christ, 167.\n  Revolution, French, 56, 235.\n  Rewards, 157 f.\n  Richter, Jean Paul, 155.\n  Righteousness, 46 f., 52, 142, 192.\n  Risen life, 167.\n  Ritschlian school, 63, 90.\n  Romanticism, 107.\n  Rome, 35; Romanist, 243.\n  Rousseau, 56 f., 100.\n  Ruskin, 16.\n\n  Sabatier, 66.\n  Sacrifice of Christ, 166; self, 131, 191, 194, 209.\n  Sanday, Professor, 139, 157.\n  Schelling, 65.\n  Schiller, 16, 107.\n  Schleiermacher, 3, 25, 39, 201.\n  Schmidt, 86.\n  Schmiedel, 31.\n  Schopenhauer, 109.\n  Schultz on copying Christ, 152.\n  Schweitzer, 134.\n  Science, 13 f., 83.\n  Scott, E., 134, 140.\n  Seeley, 16.\n  Self-regard, 207.\n  Self-restraint of Jesus, 150.\n  Self-sufficiency, 130.\n  Seneca, 43, 70.\n  Sermon on (the) Mount, 32.\n  Seth, Jas., 103.\n  Sin, 28 f., 140.\n  Sinlessness of Jesus, 149.\n  Smith, Adam, 103.\n  Smyth, Newman, 17, 26, 132.\n  Socialism, 105; social problems, 225 f., 239.\n  Society.  Social institutions, 220 ff.\n  Socrates, 9, 36 f., 39, 69, 186.\n  Sonship, 153.\n  Sophists, 11, 36, 37.\n  Sophocles, 69.\n  Soul, 61, 119.\n  Sovereignty of God, 27, 93, 144.\n  Specialisation, 207.\n  Spencer, 74 f., 103, 232.\n  Spinoza, 18.\n  Sport, 207.\n  Stalker, 176, 224.\n  Standard of New Life, 146 f.\n  State, 229 ff.\n  Stephen, Leslie, 17.\n  Stoics, 42, 56, 70, 185, 194.\n  Strauss, 151.\n  Strong, 193.\n  Sudermann, 110.\n  Suffering, 202, 208.\n  _Summum bonum_, 11.  See Ideal.\n  Symonds, 69.\n  Sympathy of Jesus, 149.\n  Synoptic Gospels, 33.\n\n  Tasso, 81.\n  Temperance, 38, 187, 191.\n  Temptation, 208.\n  Tennyson, 3, 39; wages, 161.\n  Testament, New, 28, 30 f., 35, 57, 71.\n  ---- Old, 26, 45.\n  Thanksgiving, 218.\n  _Theologia Moralis_, 2.\n  Titius, 134.\n  Touche, E. D. La, 145.\n  Troeltsch, 135, 151, 241.\n  Truthfulness, 211.\n\n  Utilitarianism, 103 f., 114.\n\n  Virtue.  Virtues, 69, 21, 38 ff., 183 ff.\n  Vitalism, 117, 120.\n  Vocation, 154, 199 f.\n\n  Wages, 161.\n  Watson, 240.\n  Wealth, 239.\n  Weiss, Johannus, 134, 170.\n  _Welt-Anschauung_, 19, 31.\n  Wenley, 44.\n  Wernle, 58, 134.\n  Westcott, Bishop, 39.\n  Westermarck, 221.\n  Will, 12 ff., 82 f.\n  Wisdom, 38, 43, 49, 187, 192.\n  Wordsworth, 3, 39.\n  Work, 208, 239.\n  Worship, 217, 237.\n  Wundt, 73, 78 f., 186, 213, 243.\n  Wuttke, 13, 25, 217.","title":"Christianity and Ethics: A Handbook of Christian Ethics","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":87691}