{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_37697/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_37697","id":"gutenberg_37697","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37697","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Ethical culture movement","Ethics","Religion"],"text":"Produced by David Widger\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCREED AND DEED\n\nA SERIES OF DISCOURSES\n\n\nBy Felix Adler\n\n\n1880\n\n\n\n\nPREFATORY NOTICE.\n\nThe lectures contained in the following pages are published by request\nof the society before which they were delivered. Those on Immortality\nand Religion have been considerably abridged and condensed. The\nremainder have been allowed to retain their original form without any\nserious modification. The First Anniversary Discourse reviews the work\nof the year, and gives a brief account of the motives which impelled the\nsociety to organize and of the general animus by which its labors are\ndirected. The Lecture entitled The Form of the Ideal foreshadows the\nconstructive purpose of the movement. The articles on The Evolution of\nHebrew Religion and Reformed Judaism from the _Popular Science Monthly\n(September_, 1876) and the _North American Review (July-August and\nSeptember-October)_ contain in the substance of several of the lectures\nof last winter's course, and are reprinted in the appendix with the\nkind consent of the editors. Rigid adherrence to the requirements of\nsystematic exposition is neither possible nor desirable in addresses of\nthe kind and has not therefore been attempted.\n\nIn giving this volume to the public I gladly embrace the opportunity of\nexpressing my sincere gratitude to those faithful and self-sacrificing\nfriends whose indefatigable labors have gone so far to win for a\nhazardous venture the promise of assured permanence and satisfactory\ndevelopment.\n\nFelix Adler.\n\nNew York, September, 1877.\n\n\n\n\nCREED AND DEED\n\n\n\n\nI. IMMORTALITY\n\n     \"not by the Creed but by the Deed.\"\n\nThe Spciety which I have the privilege of addressing, has been organized\nwith the above for its motto. Some of my hearers have entirely abandoned\nthe tenets of the positive religions; others continue to hold them true,\nbut, are discouraged by the lack of spiritual force, the prominence\ngiven to mere externals, the barren formalism in the churches and\nsynagogues. We agree in believing that theology is flourishing at\nthe expense of religion. It seems to us that differences in creed are\nconstantly increasing, and will continue to multiply with the growth and\ndifferentiation of the human intellect. We perceive that every attempt\nto settle problems of faith has thus far signally failed, nor can we\nhope for better results in the future. Certainty even with regard to\nthe essential dogmas appears to us impossible. We do not therefore deny\ndogma, but prefer to remit it to the sphere of individual conviction\nwith which public associations should have no concern. Far from\nbelieving that the doctrines of religion as commonly taught are\nessential to the well being of society, we apprehend that the disputes\nconcerning the \"author of the law\" have diverted the attention of men\nfrom the law itself, and that the so-called duties toward God too often\ninterfere with the proper performance of our duties toward one another.\nIt were better to insist less upon a right belief, and more upou right\naction.\n\nIn order to find a common basis whereon good men, whether believers or\nunbelievers can unite, we look to the moral law itself, whose certainty\nrests in the universal experience of civilized Humanity. We shall\nhold questions of faith in abeyance, shall endeavor to stimulate the\nconscience and to this end shall seek to awaken an interest in the grave\nsocial problems of our day, which need nothing so much as a vigorous\nexertion of our moral energies, in order to arrive at a peaceable\nsolution. To broaden and deepen the ethical sentiment in ourselves, and\nto hold up to the sad realities of the times, the mirror of the ideal\nlife, is the object with which we set out. We do not therefore delude\nourselves with the hope that the ideal will ever be fully realized,\nbut are convinced that in aspiring to noble ends the soul will take on\nsomething of the grandeur of what it truly admires. Starting with the\nassumption that the doctrines of religion are incapable of proof,\nit behooves us to show in one or more instances the fallacy of the\narguments upon which they are commonly founded, and we shall begin with\nthe doctrine of IMMORTALITY.\n\nIn approaching our subject we are first confronted by the argument\nfrom the common consent of mankind. Like the belief in God, the hope\nof immortality is said to be implanted in every human heart, and the\nexperience of travellers is cited to show that even the most barbarous\nraces have given it expression in some form, however crude. Aside from\nthe fact that the statement, as it stands, is somewhat exaggerated, we\nwill admit that the belief in a future state is widely current among\nsavage tribes. But the value of this testimony becomes extremely\ndoubtful on closer inspection. A brief account of the origin of the\nconception of soul among our primitive ancestors, will make this plain.\n\nIf we observe a child in its sleep, some half articulate word, some cry\nor gesture occasionally reveals to us the vividness of the dreams with\nwhich the little brain is teeming. It is hardly doubtful that the child\nmistakes the visions of its dream for actual occurrences, and attaches\nthe same reality to these miasmas of the stagnant night as to the\nclear prospects of daylight reason. Even the adult sometimes finds it\ndifficult to clear his brain of the fancies which occupied it in the\nhours of sleep. And the test of large experience can alone enable him to\ndistinguish between fact and phantom. I call attention to these facts,\nbecause the phenomena of sleep and dreams seem to offer a satisfactory\nclue to the naive theories of the lower races concerning death and the\nafter life. The savage indeed is the veritable child-man. His ardent\nemotions, his crude logic, the eagerness with which he questions the how\nand wherefore of nature, and the comparative ease with which his simple\nunderstanding accepts the most fanciful solutions, all combine to place\nhim on the level of the child.\n\nAware that the body in sleep is at rest, while at the same time the\nsleeper is conscious of acting and suffering, visiting distant regions\nperhaps, conversing with friends, engaging in battle with enemies, the\nsavage reasoned that there must be a man within the man, as it were,--an\nairy counterfeit of man which leaves its grosser tenement in the night,\nand in the course of its wanderings experiences whatever the fortunes of\nthe dream may chance to be. Instances are related where the body was\nprematurely disturbed, the inner man was prevented from returning to his\nenvelope, and death resulted. The shadow cast by the human figure, an\nattenuated image of man, connected with the body and yet distinct from\nit, afforded a curious confirmation of this artless theory. The Basutos*\naffirm that a person having on one occasion incautiously approached the\nbank of a river, his shadow was seized by a crocodile, and he died in\nconsequence. The story of shadowless or soulless men has been made\nfamiliar to modern literature by Chamisso's well known tale. The\nspectral man who severs his connection with the body during sleep,\nremains concealed within it during the hours of waking, and in this\nmanner, the idea of a human soul as distinct from the body, takes its\nrise.** It is easy to see how by extending the analogy, what we call\ndeath must have appeared as only another form of sleep, and how the\ntheory of dreams gave rise to a belief in the continuance of life beyond\nthe grave. That sleep and death are twin brothers, was to the primitive\nman more than mere metaphor. As in sleep, so in death, the body is at\nrest, but as in sleep, so also in death, a shade was supposed to go\nforth capable of acting and suffering, and yearning to return to its\nformer condition. The apparitions of the deceased seen at night by the\nfriends they had left behind, were taken to be real visitations, and\ncorroborated the assumption of the continued existence of the departed.\nThe ghosts of the dead were dreaming phantoms, debarred from permanently\nreturning to their abandoned bodies.\n\n     * The dream theory seems to be the one generally adopted by\n     writers on primitive culture. For an extended account of\n     this subject vide the works of Tylor, Lubbock and Bastian,\n     from which the illustrations given in the text are taken.\n\n     ** Peter Schlemihl.\n\n     *** The soul was believed to be corporeal in nature, only\n     more vague and shadowy than the framework of the body, and\n     distinguished by greater swiftness of locomotion.\n\nThe view we have taken of the origin of the conception of soul is\ngreatly strengthened when we consider the thoroughly material character\nof the ghost's life after death. The ghost continues to be liable to\nhunger, pain, cold, as before. But the living have shut it out from\ntheir communion; in consequence it hates its former companions,\npersecutes them where it can, and wreaks its vengeance upon them when\nthey are least prepared to resist it. In a certain district of Germany\nit was believed that the dead person, when troubled by the pangs of\nhunger, begins by gnawing its shroud until that is completely devoured,\nthen rising from the grave, it stalks through the village and in the\nshape of a vampire, sits upon the children in their cradles, and sucks\ntheir blood. When sated with the hideous feast, it returns to the\nchurchyard to renew its visits on the succeeding nights. In order to\nhinder them from using their jaws, it was customary to place stones or\ncoins into the mouths of the dead before burial and the most grotesque\ndevices were resorted to, to prevent the much dreaded return of the\ndenizens of the tomb. In the middle ages the corpse was often spiked\ndown to hinder its rising. Among the Hottentots a hole was broken into\nthe wall, through which the corpse was carried from the house, and then\ncarefully covered up, it being the prevailing superstition, that the\ndead can only reenter by the same way in which they have previously made\ntheir exit. Among a certain negro tribe of Africa, the path from the\nhouse to the grave was strewn with thorns, in the hope that the ghost\nwould find the path too painful, and desist. As late as 1861, it\noccurred in a village in Gallicia, that the ghost of a dead peasant was\nfound to pursue the living, and the inhabitants rushing out to the grave\nfearfully mutilated the body, to prevent it from committing further\ninjury.\n\nThe same conception, from a more charitable point of view, led to the\ninstitution of regular meals for the ghosts at stated intervals. In\nNorth-eastern India, after the body has been consigned to its final\nresting-place, a friend of the deceased steps forward, and holding food\nand drink in his hand, speaks the following suggestive words, \"Take and\neat; heretofore you have eaten and drunk with us, you can do so no more;\nyou were one of us, you can be so no longer; we come no more to you;\ncome you not to us.\" In Eastern Africa, the Wanicas are accustomed to\nfill a cocoa-nut shell with rice and tembo, and place it near the grave.\nIn the Congo district, a channel is dug into the grave leading to the\nmouth of the corpse, by which means food and drink are duly conveyed.\nThe sense of decorum impels certain Turanian tribes to place not only\nfood, but even napkins, on the graves of their relatives. We cannot\nresist the temptation of quoting the following passage from Mr. Tylor's\ngraphic account of the manner in which the Chinese feast their ghostly\nvisitors. \"Some victuals are left over for any blind or feeble spirit\nwho may be late, and a pail of gruel is provided for headless souls,\nwith spoons for them to put it down their throats with. Such proceedings\nculminate in the so-called Universal Rescue, now and then celebrated,\nwhen a little house is built for the expected visitors, with separate\naccommodations, and bath rooms for male and female ghosts.\" * In the\nAlpach Valley of Tyrol, ghosts released from purgatory on the night\nof All Souls, return to the houses of the peasantry. A light is left\nburning in the dining room, and a certain cake, prepared for the\noccasion, is placed upon the table for their delectation, also a pot of\ngrease for the poor souls to anoint their wounds with.\n\n     * Tylor, Primitive Culture, ii, p. 34.\n\nOccasionally, to obviate the necessity of continued attendance upon\nthe dead, a single sumptuous feast is provided immediately after their\ndemise, and this is believed to cancel their claims once for all. In\nthis manner arose the custom of funeral banquets. In England, in the\nfifteenth century, a noisy revel of three days' duration attended the\nobsequies of Sir John Paston. The so-called Irish wake originated in\nthe same way. After the first outbreaks of grief have subsided, meat and\ndrink are brought in, chiefly the latter, and what was at first intended\nfor a parting entertainment to the dead, often ends in the boisterous\nexcesses of the living.\n\nIt is here proper to remark that the savage tribes who believe in an\nafter existence, do not in many instances claim this privilege for\nthemselves alone, but share it willingly with the lower animals and even\nwith inanimate objects. Weapons, utensils, and even victuals--have their\nghostly representatives like men. When a great chief dies, his widow is\noften forced by public opinion to follow him to the grave, in order that\nthe departed brave may not be wifeless in the hereafter. But besides the\nwidow, his horse, his war-club, his girdle, his favorite trinkets are\nburied or burned with him to serve his use or vanity in spectre-land.\n\nFrom what has preceded, it must be clear that the savage's conception of\na ghost bears but a faint and distant resemblance to the idea of soul,\nas it became current in the schools of philosophy; nor can the latter\nderive support from the ignorant reasonings, the hasty inductions of\nprimitive man. On the lower levels of culture the idea of immortality\nindeed is quite unknown. If the ghost continues its shadowy existence\nafter death, it is none the less liable to come to an abrupt end, and\nthen nothing whatever of its former substance remains; it is a pale,\nfilmy thing, exposed to the inroads of the hostile elements, surrounded\nby numerous dangers, to which it may at any moment succumb. In the Tonga\nIslands only the souls of the well-born are supposed to survive at all.\nThe common people have no souls worth speaking of, and when they die,\nare completely extinguished. The ghosts of Guinea negroes are compelled\nto approach the bank of the terrible river of death. Some of them are\nthereupon wafted across to lead pleasant lives on the opposite side,\nothers are drowned in the stream, or beaten to atoms with a club. With\nthe Fijians it is always a matter of doubt whether a soul will succeed\nat all in maintaining its feeble existence after it has left its\nprotecting house of sinew and bone. But they open a peculiarly dismal\nprospect to wifeless souls. Nanananga, a fierce demoniac being, watches\nfor them on the shore as they approach, and dashes them to pieces upon\nthe rocks. The Greenlanders affirm that after death the soul enters\nupon a long, lone journey over a mountain full of precipitous descents,\ncovered with ice and snow. The storms howl about its path, and every\nstep is fraught with pain and danger. If any harm happens to the poor\nwanderer here, then it dies \"the other death\" from which there is no\nre-awakening.\n\nIn the theories of a future state, as devised by the lower races, we are\nat a loss to detect the germs of any more spiritual longings. Far from\nlooking forward with pleased anticipation or confidence to the world to\ncome, the barbarian shuddered as he thought of his approaching end,\nand was loath to exchange the white and sunny world for the dreary\ncompanionship of luckless shades. The life that awaited him was not in\nthe majority of instances a better or a higher life than this; not free\nfrom the limitations of sense; no larger perfecting of what is here\ndwarfed and crippled; it was lower, poorer, meaner; it was to the\npresent, what the pressed flower is to the full-blown rose; the same\nin substance, indeed, but with its beauty perished, and its joyous\nfragrance evanesced.\n\nThe argument from the common consent of mankind in truth deserves no\nserious attention.*\n\n     * The doctrine of spiritual immortality is not common to the\n     human race.   The material life of the ghost bears no\n     analogy to what we mean by the soul's continuance.    The\n     continuance of the ghost's existence is not an immortal\n     continuance.\n\nThe argument cannot be substantiated, it would prove nothing, if it\ncould. The general concurrence of the whole human race in any form of\nerror would not make that error less erroneous, and the testimony of\nunited millions against a solitary thinker might kick the beam when\nbalanced in the scales of truth.\n\nWhen we behold an ignorant knave squandering his ill-gotten gains\non superfluities, while honest people are famishing for want of the\nnecessaries; when we see the unscrupulous politician outstripping the\ndeserving statesman, in the race for fame and station; when modest merit\nshrinks in corners, and the native royalty of talent plays courtier to\nthe kings of lucre, we are reminded of the complaint of Job, that the\nbad prosper, and the righteous are down-trodden, yet that they sleep\ntogether in the dust and the worm covers them alike.\n\nThis evident disparity between virtue and happiness has led men to take\nrefuge in the thought of compensation hereafter, and the necessity of a\nfuture state in which the good shall be rewarded, and the evil punished,\naccording to the verdict of a just judge, has been deduced even from the\napparent injustice of the present. Thus the very imperfections of our\nown life on earth, afford a pretext for the most ambitious conceptions\nof human destiny.\n\nThe argument from the necessity of reward and punishment is extremely\npopular among the uneducated, since it appeals ostensibly to their sense\nof justice and assures them that by the aid of Divine omnipotence, a\nfull correspondence between worthiness and happiness, though vainly\nexpected here, will be established in another sphere. It behooves us to\nenquire whether there is anything in the nature of virtue, that demands\na correspondence of this kind.\n\nThe philosopher Epicurus was perhaps the first among the ancients to\ntake strong ground in favor of the utilitarian view of virtue. Pleasure,\nhe holds, is the purpose of existence, and virtue is thus reduced\nto enlightened self-interest. There are different kinds of pleasure;\npleasures of the senses and of the soul. Epicurus points out that the\nformer cannot be considered true pleasures, since they defeat their\nown end, blunting the capacity of enjoyment in proportion as they are\nindulged, and incapable of affording permanent satisfaction. Himself\na man of refined tastes and fastidious habits, he shrank from the very\ncoarseness of the passions, and counselled moderation, friendship and\nbenevolence. But he refused to recognize in these virtues any intrinsic\nvalue of their own, and lauded them only because in contrast to the\nlower appetites, the enjoyment they afford is lasting and constantly\nincreases with their exercise. It is easy to perceive that when the\nmoral law is thus stripped of its authority to command, the choice\nbetween duty and inclination will be governed by fortuitous preferences,\nand not by principle. It then remains for each individual to decide what\nform of pleasure may be most congenial to his temper and desires. The\nphilosopher will value the delights of contemplative ease, and of kindly\ncommunion with his fellow-men; the passionate youth may hold that a\nsingle deep draught from the chalice of sensual pleasure is worth more\nthan a whole lifetime of neutral self-restraint; \"eat and drink\" will\nbe his motto; \"remote consequences--who knows? To-morrow we may die.\"\nMoreover the doctrine of enlightened self-interest has this fatal\nobjection to it, that if consistently applied, at least among the\npowerful of the earth, it would lead to consequences the very reverse\nof moral. It is but too true that honesty is not always the best policy;\nthat fraud and violence, when perpetrated on a scale of sufficient\nmagnitude, (instance the division of unfortunate Poland,) are not always\npunished as they deserve to be. Far from teaching the tyrant to subdue\nhis baser instincts, enlightened self-interest might rather lead him to\nstifle the accusing voice of conscience, and to root out the scruples\nthat interfere with his ambition. Unless we concede that the moral law\nhas a claim upon us which the constitution of our nature does not permit\nus to deny with impunity, and that its pleasures differ, not only in\ndegree, but in kind, from all others, virtue, while a necessity to the\nweak, becomes folly in the strong; and Napoleon, that gigantic egotist,\nwas correct, when he called love a silly infatuation, and sentiment a\nthing for women.\n\nThe principles of Epicurus not only adulterate the motives of goodness\nwith the desire of reward, but they make the reward of desire the very\nsanction of all virtue, and thus deprive human nature of its best title\nto nobility.\n\nTruly disinterestedness is the distinguishing mark of every high\nendeavor. The pursuit of the artist is unselfish, the beauty he creates\nis his reward. The toil of the scientist in the pursuit of abstract\ntruth is unselfish, the truth he sees is his reward. Why should we\nhesitate to acknowledge in the domain of ethics, what we concede in the\nrealm of art and science? To say that unselfishness itself is only\nthe more refined expression of a selfish instinct, is to use the term\nselfish with a double meaning, is a mere empty play on words. We have\nthe innate need of harmony in the moral relations; this is our glory,\nand the stamp of the Divine upon our nature. We cannot demonstrate the\nexistence of disinterested motives, any more than we can demonstrate\nthat there is joy in the sunlight and freedom in the mountain breeze.\nThe fact that we _demand unselfishness_ in action alone assures us that\nthe standard of enlightened self-interest is false.\n\nAnd indeed if we consult the opinions of men, where they are least\nlikely to be warped by sophistry, we shall find that disinterestedness\nis the universal criterion by which moral worth is measured. If we\nsuspect the motive we condemn the act. If a person gives largely for\nsome object of public useful ness or charity, we do not permit the\nmunificence of the gift to deceive our judgment. Perhaps he is merely\ndesirous of vaunting his wealth, perhaps it is social standing he aims\nat, perhaps he is covetous of fame. If these suspicions prove well\nfounded, the very men who accept his bounty will in their secret hearts\ndespise him, and by a certain revulsion of feeling we shall resent his\naction all the more, because, not only is he destitute of honorable\npurpose, but he has filched the fair front of virtue, and defiled the\nlaurel even in the wearing of it.\n\nWe do not even accord the name of goodness to that easy, amiable\nsympathy which leads us to alleviate the sufferings of others, unless it\nbe guided by wise regard for their permanent welfare.\n\nThe tattered clothes, the haggard looks, the piteous pleading voice of\nthe pauper on the public highway may awaken our pity, but the system of\nindiscriminate alms-giving is justly condemned as a weakness rather than\na virtue.\n\nOn the other hand obedience to duty, when it involves pain and\nself-abnegation, seems to rise in the general estimation. Clearly\nbecause in this instance even the suspicion of interested motives is\nremoved, since hardship, injury in estate and happiness, and even the\npossible loss of life, are among the foreseen consequences of the act.\nIt is for this reason that the Book of Martyrs has become the golden\nbook of mankind, and that the story of their lives never fails to fill\nus with mingled sorrow, and admiration, and pride. They are monuments\non the field of history, milestones on the path of human progress. We\nregard them and gain new courage and confidence in our better selves.\nThe blazing pyre on the Campo Fiore, whereon Giordano Bruno breathes his\nlast, becomes a beacon-light for the truth-seeker; the dying Socrates\nstill pours benignant peace over many a sufferer's couch; the Man of\nsorrows, on Calvary, comforts the hearts of the Christian millions.\nIn the presence of these high examples the inadequacy of the selfish\nstandard becomes clearly apparent. We recognize what a sublime quality\nthat is in man which enables him, not only to triumph over torment and\nsuffering, but to devote his very self to destruction for the sake of\nhonor and truth. Freely must virtue be wooed, not for the dowry she may\nbring; by loyal devotion to her for her own sake only, can she be won!\n\nIf thus it appears that not only is there nothing in the nature of\nvirtue to warrant a claim to reward, but that it is her very nature to\ndisclaim any reward, it will become plain that the problem, as stated\nin the beginning, rests upon an entirely false foundation. That the\nunrighteous and unprincipled should enjoy temporal happiness, does not\noffend the law of justice. That you, my good sir, honest in all your\ndealings, truthful in all your acts, should be unhappy, is greatly to\nbe deplored. Why evil and unhappiness should have been allowed at all to\nenter a world created by an all good and all powerful Being may fairly\nbe asked. Why those who possess the treasure of a clear conscience\nshould not also possess the lesser goods of earth, is a question with\nwhich morality is in no wise concerned.\n\nVirtue can have no recompense, save as it is its own recompense, and\nvice can receive no real punishment save as it is its own avenger.\nThe hope of immortality, in so far as it is based upon the supposed\nnecessity of righting in a future state what is here wrong, is therefore\nuntenable, for it is based upon the assumption of a wrong which exists\nin the imagination merely. _And he who claims a reward because of his\nvirtue, has thereby forfeited his right to maintain the claim, since\nthat is not virtue, which looks for reward._\n\n*****\n\nHaving endeavored to show that the joys of earth cannot be claimed as\nthe recompense of a moral life, we must yet admit that the desire of\nhappiness is altogether too strong and deep-seated in human nature to\nbe thus summarily dismissed. We seek happiness on its own account quite\napart from any title which virtue may give us to its enjoyment. Were we\ncreated for misery? Does not the poverty and general unsatisfactoriness\nof our present condition warrant us in expecting ampler fulfilment,\npermanent bliss in an after life? I think we shall derive some\nassistance in discussing this question, by attempting to resolve the\nconception of happiness into its constituent elements.\n\nPleasure has been defined to consist in the satisfaction of any of man's\nnatural wants. The variety of our pleasures corresponds to the diversity\nof our wants.\n\nFood to the hungry, rest to the weary, are sources of pleasure. To feel\non some cold wintry day the genial warmth of true hearth fire creeping\ninto our blood, and the frozen limbs relaxing their stiffness, is\npleasure. All men admire the beautiful and delight in adornment. Even\nthe rude savage seeks to gratify his aesthetic tastes, so far as the\nmeans which nature places at his command permit. The custom of tattooing\nthe skin is widely practiced among the lower races, and stars and\ncircles, trees and plants, and other ingenious devices are impressed\nwith laborious patience upon the different members of the body. The\nchiefs of the Fiji Islanders, a nude and cannibal race, are represented\nas wearing an elaborate head-dress of three and even five feet in\ndimensions, and were accustomed to spend several hours each day, under\nthe care of the royal hair-dresser. Among civilized men the desire for\nadornment finds vent chiefly in external objects, while every coarse\nsolicitation of attention to the person is shunned. Tastily decorated\nhouses, flowers, paintings, music, gratify our sense of symmetry, and\nspread an atmosphere of culture and refinement in the vicinity of our\ndaily occupations. But there are deeper and purer joys in reserve. Man\nis eminently a social being; he has the need of sympathy and depends\nupon the affections of his fellows. The presence of cherished companions\nand friends becomes a necessity to him; in absence he yearns for it,\nand the lack of it is one of the most serious afflictions of human life.\n\"Woe unto him who, far from parents and loved kinsmen, a lonely life\nmust lead. His present joys devouring grief doth snatch. His thoughts\nare ever straying in the distance back to his father's hall, where the\nsun of life first rose upon him, and where children of the common\nhome, playfully, with gentle bonds, close and closer drew their hearts\ntogether.\"* The tranquil delight which we derive from the enlargement of\nintellect, and the exquisite inward satisfaction that results from high\nfidelity to duty, may be mentioned as the last to crown the scale of\npleasures.\n\n     * Goethe, Iphigenie auf Tauris, Act I.\n\nNow, it is evident that all these elements of happiness, these diverse\nrays that nowhere melt into the perfect light, are dependent upon the\nphysical organization of man, such as it is, even for their partial\nattainment; of the lower pleasures, this is at once evident. But a\nlittle reflection will show the same to be the case with the higher. If\nwe consider the aesthetic faculty, we find its gratification conditioned\nby a physical basis. What were music without the ear; what the symmetry\nof form, without the eye and touch? The intellect, in its turn,\nfashions-the rough timber of experience, which an ever flowing stream of\nsensation carries into the workshop of the brain. Can the mind feed upon\nitself? Can the laws of thought act otherwise than upon the material\nafforded by the senses? The same is also true with respect to our moral\nqualities, and the exercise of the virtues is inconceivable beyond the\npale of human society. All virtue presupposes a tendency to err;\nthe failings and limitations of our mortal condition. Justice is the\nadjustment of limitations common to all men in such manner that their\nstress shall not bear more heavily upon one than upon the other. Love\nis the expansion of one limited nature in another and their mutual\nenrichment by such union. Charity, fortitude, continence, whatever we\napplaud in human conduct, is but an indirect testimony to the natural\nimperfections inherent in the human heart, and is accounted admirable\nonly in so far as it tends to ensure the best interests of the race on\nearth. When therefore this body is corrupted, when we depart from out\nthe fellowship of men, the gratification of the appetites, the enjoyment\nof beauty, the exercise of reason, and the practice of virtue become\nalike unthinkable.\n\nWe desire larger happiness than we can here achieve; but because we\ndesire a thing, are we therefore at all warranted in believing that\nwe shall obtain it? Is the course of the world's affairs such as to\nencourage so flattering an hypothesis? Is not the fatality that so often\nattends our best efforts in this life, an argument against, rather than\nin favor of increasing felicity in another? We should assume a wiser\nattitude as against fate. There are those who fret under disappointment,\nand murmur and rebel as if they had been defrauded of a right; as if\nthey had entered into a compact with destiny to their advantage, as if\nthe myriad worlds moved through space for their especial good. This is\nan insane spirit. We need something of the vim of stoicism to grapple\nwith the difficulties of life; we need to cultivate a larger patience;\nan humble spirit prepared for every loss, and welcoming every hour\nof joy as an unlooked for gain. There are a thousand pleasures too in\nlittle things which we, with the petulance of children, daily spurn,\nbecause we cannot have all we ask for. In every stone there is\ninstruction, in every varying aspect of the sky there is beauty,\nwherever men congregate and commune, lessons of wisdom are revealed to\nthe observer. The movement of everlasting laws quivers in the meanest\ntrifles, and the eternities, thinly veiled, look out upon us with their\nsolemn gaze from every passing mask of time. These let us study; art\nwill help us; science will open to us a wondrous chain of workings which\nthe mind cannot exhaust, and active exertions for the common weal will\ngive a generous glow to our lives, and still the unquiet yearnings which\nwe may never entirely set at rest. You have seen how the flowers grow,\nhow that many seeds are scattered and but few take root; how the germ\nslowly and with difficulty develops. The rain waters it, the warm\nsunbeam fosters it; storms sweeping over the earth, may crush it while\nit is still a young and tender shoot. At last, sometimes after years of\npreparation, it buds and opens and blooms and becomes a delight and a\nglory, a fount of fragrance, a crown of beauty. A few days pass and\nit droops; what the long process of time has slowly created, a single\nmoment may suffice to destroy; and yet though its time was brief, the\nflower fulfilled its nature only in that passing bloom; all the previous\nstages of its existence had a meaning only as they led up to this, the\nfinal revelation of its purpose.\n\nThe bloom of human life is morality; whatever else we may possess,\nhealth, and wealth, power, grace, knowledge, have a value only as they\nlead up to this; have a meaning only as they make this possible. Nor\nshould we complain that the blight of death so quickly withers what the\ncourse of threescore years has scarce sufficed to produce. In the hour\nof our destruction, we will lift up our hearts in triumph--we have\nblossomed! We have blossomed!\n\nBut it will be said, that the flower when it is wilted and withered\nhere, may be transplanted to fairer regions; that the soul may take\non new organs, when it has abandoned its earthly habitation, and in a\nseries of transformations of which, it is true, we can form no definite\nconception, may enter afresh upon its struggles for worthiness in other\nspheres. This is, indeed, the loftiest expression which the hope of\nimmortality has found. Unlike the arguments previously considered, it\nis unalloyed by any selfish motive, is founded upon a really exalted\nsentiment, and it is Love and Virtue themselves that here take up the\nstrain, and sing us their animating song of ceaseless progress toward\nthe good. The argument in this shape, involves the further question\nwhether the existence of an independent and indestructible soul is\nassured, and upon this point the whole problem of immortality finally\nhinges.\n\nThe question whether what we are accustomed to call the soul is a\ndistinct and indivisible entity, or merely the result of material\nprocesses, has divided mankind for more than two thousand years, and\nsome of the ablest thinkers have ranged themselves on either side. As\nearly as the fifth century B. C. the philosopher Democritus propounded\nmaterialistic doctrines among the Greeks. According to him, the soul is\na combination of smooth, round, polished and moving atoms, and to the\nmotions of these atoms the phenomena of life are to be ascribed.\n\nAmong the Romans, Lucretius advanced similar views. He took particular\npains to combat the \"vulgar fear of death,\" protesting that the prospect\nof dissolution would lose its terrors, did we not foolishly imagine\nourselves conscious of being dead, forgetting that death implies the\nentire cessation of consciousness. The followers of materialistic\nopinions among the ancients, were not a few. But during the ascendancy\nof the Christian Church, these opinions retired into the background,\nuntil in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, they were revived by\nsuch men as Gassendi and La Mettrie, and others. In modern times they\nhave been widely spread.\n\nThe list of names on the opposite side is headed by Socrates, Plato,\nAristotle, and embraces the great majority of writers and public\nteachers, down to the present day.\n\nIt may appear strange that when the belief in immortality had once\nbecome current, men should have been tempted to forego its pleasing\nprospects, and even, with a certain vehemence, to urge their sceptical\nviews upon others. Let us consider for a moment, what it was that\ninduced the materialists to assume their position. The observed\ncorrespondence between mental and physical phenomena doubtless led them\nin the first instance to adopt their peculiar views.\n\nWe see in the tiny body of the new born babe, barely more than the faint\nstirrings of animal life; months pass by before it is able to form any\nclear conception of the persons and things in its vicinity, the simpler\nmental processes appearing simultaneously with the growth of the bodily\norgans. The intellect reaches its highest development in the age of\nmanhood and womanhood, when we stand in the maturity of our physical\npowers. In that middle age of life lies, with rare exceptions, the best\nwork we are destined to accomplish. Having entered upon the downward\nslope, our faculties gradually lose their vigor, until we sink into the\nfinal stage of drivelling old age, and become feeble in mind, as we\nare helpless in body. In this manner the close connection between our\nspiritual and material parts, is brought home forcibly, even to\nthe unreflecting; as the one enlarges so does the other: as the one\ndiminishes so does the other: together they increase, together they are\nweakened; the inference is drawn, shall it not be, that together they\nwill perish?\n\nThe phenomena of sleep and of coma seem to convey the same lesson. A\nhaze steals over our consciousness; sometimes settling into impenetrable\nnight; as the body for a time wears the semblance of death, so also\nis the mind stupefied or completely paralyzed. Hours pass by; in the\ninterval, the business of the world has gone on as before, but to us\nthere has been only a void and utter blank. And thus it is said shall\nthere be a void and a blank in the tomb; time will pass by, and we shall\nnot know it; men will move and act and we shall be none the wiser for\nit; it will be all like sleep, only that there will be no dreams.\n\nAnd again when some malignant fever seizes upon the body and corrupts\nthe currents of the blood, how do the poor disordered thoughts dance\nabout wildly, driven by the lash of the distemper; how does the use of\nstimulants besot the intellect, so that every higher power is deadened;\nhow in the wild ravings of the diseased brain, do we behold the hideous\nmockery of mind.\n\nAnd does not the grave itself testify loudly that the end is an end\nindeed; the body falls to pieces, the dust commingles with the dust, and\nnothing remains, nothing at least of which we can ever have experience.\nRight or wrong, these facts impress the mind, and their leaden weight\nserves to drag down our aspirations.\n\nIt is true, the considerations I have enumerated are based upon a mere\nsurface view of things, but the more accurate methods of science seem,\nat first sight, to confirm the general conclusions to which they lead.\nOn this point, it would be well to dwell for a moment. John Stuart Mill\nacknowledges that \"the evidence is well-nigh complete that all thought\nand feeling has some action of the bodily organism for its immediate\ncoincident and accompaniment, and that the specific variations, and\nespecially the different degrees of complication of the nervous and\ncerebral organism, correspond to differences in the development of our\nmental faculties.\"\n\nThe prodigious difficulties in the way of the study of the brain may\nlong retard the progress of the investigator, but for the purposes of\nour argument we are at liberty to assume whatever is within the limits\nof possible achievement. We may suppose that physiology will succeed\nso far that the brain will be accurately and completely mapped out, and\nthat the motions of the atoms upon which the thousand varying modes of\nthought and feeling depend, will be known and measured. In anticipating\nsuch results, we have reached the utmost tenable position of\nmaterialism.\n\nBut now to our surprise we discover that all this being allowed, the\nultimate question, what is soul, remains still unsolved and as insoluble\nas ever. The unvarying coincidence of certain modes of soul with certain\nmaterial processes may be within the range of proof, but what cannot be\nproven is, that these material processes explain the psychic phenomena.\n\nIf it is urged that the same difficulty presents itself in the\nexplanation of the most ordinary occurrences, this objection is based\nupon a misapprehension of the point at issue.\n\nThe scientist cannot show why heat should be convertible into motion,\nbut how it is thus transformed is easy to demonstrate, and the exact\nmechanical equivalent of heat has been calculated. But how certain\nmotions of atoms in the brain should generate, not heat, but\nconsciousness, but thought and love, is past all conception. There are\nhere two different orders of facts, having no common principle to which\nthey could both be reduced. There is an impassable gulf between them\nwhich can in nowise be bridged over.\n\nNor would it avail us to endow the atom itself with the promise and\npotency of intellect; we should thereby throw back the issue a step\nfurther, and disguise the problem whose existence it were better to\nplainly acknowledge. The broad fact of consciousness therefore remains\nunexplained and inexplicable as before. Arrived at this limit, science\nitself pauses and refuses to pass further.\n\nSome of the leading naturalists of our day have lately expressed\nthemselves clearly and tersely in this sense. The eminent physiologist\nDubois Rey-mond denies that the connection between certain motions of\ncertain atoms in the brain, and what he calls, the primal, undefinable\nand undeniable facts of consciousness, is at all conceivable.\nProfessor Tyndall in his address on \"The scope and limits of Scientific\nMaterialism,\" explains his views with similar precision.\n\nWere our minds so expanded, strengthened and illuminated as to enable\nus to see and feel the very molecules of the brain; were we capable of\nfollowing all their motions, all their groupings, all their electric\ndischarges, if such there be; and were we intimately acquainted with the\ncorresponding states of thought and feeling, we should be as far as\never from the solution of the problem. How are these physical processes\nconnected by and with the facts of consciousness? I do not think the\nmaterialist is entitled to say that his molecular groupings and\nhis molecular motions explain everything, in reality they explain\nnothing.... The problem of body and soul is as insoluble in its modern\nform as it was in the pre-scientific ages.\n\nNow since it is impossible to demonstrate that the powers of mind are a\nproduct of matter, the possibility undoubtedly remains that these powers\nmay continue to exist even after their connection with the physical\norganism has been dissolved. If all the arguments that are commonly\nadduced in support of the doctrine of a future life fall short of their\nobject, it is but just to add that every argument to the contrary is\nequally devoid of foundation. The doctrine of immortality cannot be\ndisproved. Of the nature of soul we are in absolute ignorance we know\nnothing; what is more, we can know nothing At this point we touch the\nutmost boundary of human reason, and must be content to write mystery of\nmysteries.\n\nIn the state of settled uncertainty to which we are thus reduced, the\nshape of our opinions will be determined by the bias of our natures or\nthe influence of education. The sceptic will remind us of the points\nin which we resemble all the perishable forms of nature and hold it\nimprobable that we alone should escape the universal law of dissolution.\nOthers will cling to the hope of continued life, even on the brink of\nthe grave, and the strong instinct of self preservation will give tone\nand color to their religious beliefs. Deep philosophical speculations\nare possible as to that ultimate source of being, that hidden light of\nwhich both matter and mind are diverse reflections. And here too poetry\nassumes its legitimate office. On the mists that cover the infinite\nabyss, we may project whatever images, foul or fair, we list. Science\nyou may be sure will never disturb us. Dogmatic assertion however, on\neither side is totally unwarranted: and the question of immortality (I\nthink we must sooner or later make up our minds to that) will remain an\nopen one. Certain, only, is the fact of our uncertainty.\n\nIf the conclusions to which we have thus been led, seem purely negative\nin their bearings, they are none the less capable of certain positive\napplications, which deserve our serious attention. The longing for\nimmortality has been developed into a morbid craving under the influence\nof the current religious teachings, and has become a disturbing element\nin human society. On more than one occasion it has imperilled the peace\nof nations, and the doctrines of salvation became the watchwords of\ncontending armies. The doubtful chances of eternal felicity or damnation\nbecame the one absorbing topic on which men's minds dwelt, and the wild\nhorrors of the Christian Hell have cast a gloom over many an innocent\nlife, and curtailed the scant measure of its earthly happiness. It were\nsomething gained, if by a cool and dispassionate judgment the influence\nof these dismal fantasies could be lessened, and men be freed from\ntheir slavish subjection to phantoms born of their own distempered\nimaginations.\n\nFurthermore, it follows from what we have said that the belief in\nimmortality should not be inculcated as a dogma in our schools of\nreligion, and above all that the dictates of the moral law should in no\nwise be made to depend upon it for their sanction. The moral law is\nthe common ground upon which all religious and in fact all true men may\nmeet. It is the one basis of union that remains to us amid the clashing\nantagonisms of the sects. While dogma is by its nature, open to attack,\nand its acceptance at all times a matter of choice, the principles of\nmorality have a right to demand implicit obedience, and should rest as\neverlasting verities in the human heart. Let us reflect well before we\nimperil the latter by the undue prominence which we give the former. It\nis not needful to impart to a child the whole truth, but what it learns\nshould be wholly true, and nothing should be taught it as a fundamental\nfact which it can ever in after years be led to call in question. How\noften has it occurred that when the riper reason of the man has rejected\nthe tenets of the church in which he was educated, he has been tempted\nto cast aside all the religious teachings of his youth, the moral with\nthe rest, as idle fable and deceit.\n\nAnd lastly, friends, as we do not, cannot know, it is presumably wise\nthat we should not know. The vanity of all our efforts to grasp the\ninfinite, should teach us that on this island of time whereon we live,\nlies our work. In its joys we may freely take delight; for its woes we\nshould reserve our sympathies, and in laboring to advance the progress\nof the good we must find our satisfaction.\n\nBefore closing this subject however let us recall vividly to our minds\nthat the desire for continuance after death is capable of the most\nnoble expression, and of supplying us with wholesome consolation and\ninspiriting motives to action. The individual passes, but the race\nlives! There is a law in nature that no force is ever lost. The thousand\nvarying forms that ebb and flow around us are various only to our feeble\nvision. At the core they are one, transmuted, yet the same, changing\nyet changeless, perishing to rise anew. The law of the conservation of\nenergy holds good throughout the entire domain of matter. And such a law\ntoo obtains in our spiritual life. The law of the conservation of moral\nenergy is no less an abiding truth; we are not dust merely, that returns\nto dust; we are not summer flies that bask in the sunshine of the\npassing day; we are not bounded in our influence by the narrow tenure\nof our years. Say not when the sod has closed above those who have been\ndear to you that all is gone. Say not that the grace and loveliness, and\nwisdom that once dwelt within the pallid form is breathed away like\na hollow wind. Nor yet stand idly gazing upon the cloud-land of the\nfuture, watching if you can trace perchance their shadowy lineaments\nfading into the dimness of untried worlds. The dead are not dead if we\nhave loved them truly. In our own lives we give them immortality. Let us\narise and take up the work they have left unfinished, and preserve the\ntreasures they have won, and round out the circuit of their being to the\nfullness of an ampler orbit in our own.\n\nAll the good that was in them lives in you, the germ and nucleus of\nthe better that shall be. All the evil that inhered in them shall be\ncleansed away in you and your virtues shall be the atonement for their\nsins. Thus shall the fathers live in the children, and from generation\nto generation the bond that connects the past with the future remains\nunbroken. They that have left you are not afar; their presence is near\nand real, a silent and august companionship. In the still hours of\nmeditation; under the starlit night, in the stress of action, in trials\nand temptations, you will hear their voices whispering words of cheer or\nwarning, and your deeds are their deeds and your lives are their lives.\n\nSo does the light of other days still shine in the bright hued flowers\nthat clothe our fields; so do they who are long since gathered into\nthe silent city of the dead still move about our houses, distributing\nkindness and nobleness among our lives. So does the toll of the funeral\nbell become an alarum to rouse us to more active effort and to the\nnobler service of mankind.\n\n\n\n\nII. RELIGION.\n\nThe question, Have we still a religion, propounded by David Friedrich\nStrauss some few years ago, will long engage the attention of radical\nthinkers. It is clear that to answer it satisfactorily we must\ndetermine, in the first instance, what meaning ought rightly to be\nattached to the term religion. In common parlance, it is often used with\nreference to mere externals, a religious person being one who conforms\nto the rites and usages of some particular church. On the other hand,\nevery innovation in the sphere of doctrine is branded as irreligious.\nThus Luther was deemed irreligious by the Catholics; St. Boniface by\nthe heathen Germans, Jesus by the Jews, Elijah by the servants of Baal.\nThere is not any single form, nor even a single fundamental principle\ncommon to all religions. Religion is not identical with theology. It\nis indeed often maintained that the belief in a personal God should\nbe regarded as the foundation and criterion of religion; but upon this\nassumption, two facts remain inexplicable, the existence of religion\nbefore ever the idea of a deity had arisen among men, and the existence\nof what may be termed an atheistical religion, in conscious antagonism\nto the doctrine of a personal God. Among the lower races we find men\nworshipping, sacrificing and uttering their invocations to mountains,\nfountains, rivers, rocks and stones: they know not a deity--sometimes\nthey have not even idols, and yet they certainly have, after a fashion\nof their own, a religion. Again, Buddhism, while possessing a subtle\nsystem of philosophy and an admirable code of ethics, starts with the\nproposition that there never was a creation, and in consequence, never\na creator, and yet more than four hundred millions of the earth's\ninhabitants call it their religion!\n\nThe question returns to us, What is religion? It is not creed; it is\nnot sacrifice; it is not prayer; it is not covered by the dogmas of any\nspecial form of belief; it has acted as a controlling force in all ages,\nin every zone, among all manner of men. Are we devoid of it? Of it? Of\nwhat?\n\nThe feeling which the presence of the Infinite in the thoughts of man\nawakens within him, is called, the feeling of the sublime. _The feeling\nof the sublime is the root of the religious sentiment._ It assumes\nvarious phases, and to these correspond the various religions. Let us\nendeavor to enumerate some of the most prominent.\n\nThe feeling of the sublime is awakened by the mysterious. The indefinite\ngives us our earliest presentiment of the infinite; the religion\nof mystery is fetishism. The feeling of the sublime is awakened by\nexhibitions of superhuman power. The religion of power is paganism. The\nfeeling of the sublime is evoked by vastness; the religions of vastness\nare Brahminism and Buddhism. The loftiest type of sublimity is to be\nfound in the morally infinite. Judaism, Christianity and Islam have\nsought to give it expression.*\n\n     * We do not pretend that the above schedule is at all\n     exhaustive. Various elements of the sublime, not mentioned\n     in the text, have entered into the composition of each of\n     the great religions. We have merely attempted to seize the\n     more salient feature of a few leading types.\n\nLet us discuss in the first place the origin of Fetishism. There are\ncertain natural phenomena that fill us with alarm, without our being\nable to attribute the effect to any definite cause. The darkness of\nnight, the rustling of leaves, the moaning of the wind through the\nforest, the wailing cry of certain birds, and the peculiar effects of a\ngathering fog, are of this kind. I have had occasion to observe a little\nchild suddenly starting from its play with every sign of fear depicted\nupon its countenance; the spasm passed away as quickly as it had come,\nbut was repeated at various intervals, until at last the child ran up to\nme in uncontrollable alarm, and threw up its arms for protection: it was\na raw wintry day, a gusty wind blew fitfully against the windows; and\nthe dreary sound of the rattling panes could be distinctly heard in the\nstillness of the room; on closer observation I noticed that the signs\nof alarm in the child recurred with great regularity, as often as\nthis sound was repeated. In a similar way we may imagine our earliest\nancestors to have been affected by whatever was vague and mysterious in\nnature. The sense of uncertainty occasioned in this manner, gave rise in\nthe primitive man to the first conceptions of mysterious powers beyond\nhim.\n\nThe invention, or rather the discovery, of fire tended still further in\nthe same direction. To us it is barely possible to imagine life without\nthis most useful of the elements. The wild beast flees fire and fears\nit, man uses it, and it becomes the chief instrument of civilization.\nBut if we strive to picture to ourselves the state of the savage's mind\non his first acquaintance with fire and its properties we shall find\nhim utterly at a loss to account for. How will he regard this nimble,\nplayful being, so bright and yet so fearful in its ravages. Of the laws\nof chemical action he has of course no conception, but he has sometimes\nseen the lightning strike into the wood of the tree, and now from the\nsame wood he evokes the semblance of the lightning. He is twirling two\ndry sticks between his hands; of a sudden, a lambent flame shoots forth,\nseizes the wood, makes away with it, and leaves nothing but blackened\ncinders behind. Whence did it come, whither has it vanished? Here was\na new mystery; a spiritual presence, latent in trees and stones; kindly\nand beneficent at times, then again hostile and fiercely destructive.\n\nThe mystery of the preparation of fire is celebrated in the ancient\nhymns of the Vedah. We there find its birth from the friction of the\ndouble sticks described, and its properties rehearsed in reverent\nlanguage. It is invoked like any superior spirit to bless its votaries,\nand to protect them from harm. The important role ascribed to fire in\nthe sacred usages of the ancients, is well-known, and the origin of fire\nworship apparent.\n\nThe theory of dreams, to which we have referred on a previous occasion,\ncontributed in like manner, to extend the boundaries of the world of\nmystery. Convinced that he bore within himself an airy counterfeit of\nself, the savage attributed the same species of possession to things\nanimate and inanimate alike. Why should not beasts and rivers and stones\nhave their ghosts like man? Moreover, as to the ghosts of the human\ndead, no one could tell where they might take up their abode. They\nmight be anywhere and everywhere. Their countless legions surrounded\nthe living in all places. They were heard shouting in the echo among\nthe hills; they were seen to ride past on the midnight gale. Often\nthey assumed the shape of birds and reptiles and beasts of prey. Those\ncreatures were singled out with a preference, whose movements and habits\nsuggested the idea of mystery. Thus the owl was supposed to harbor an\nevil spirit, and the serpent was worshipped because of its stealthy,\ngliding motion, its venomous bite, and the fascination in its eye.\nSerpent worship existed the world over. Traces of it are preserved in\nthe literature of the Greeks and Romans, and it was practised even among\nthe Hebrews, as the Books of Kings attest. Among certain African tribes\nit is still customary to keep huge serpents in temples, and priests are\ndedicated to their service. Powerful animals also, such as the bear,\nthe lion and the tiger, were sometimes supposed to contain the ghosts of\ndeparted chieftains, and were revered accordingly.\n\nIf we remember the unfriendly relations supposed to subsist between the\nliving and the dead, we may conceive the state of alarm in which our\nprimitive ancestors must have passed their lives on beholding themselves\nthus beset on every side, with ghosts or demons in disguise. A thousand\nfabulous terrors haunted their imagination. Wherever they turned they\nsuspected lurking foes; spirits were in the earth, in the air, in birds,\nin animals, in reptiles, in trees. They could not move a step without\ninfringing on the boundaries of the spirit realm. Every object the least\nextraordinary in size, or shape, or color, appeared to them the token of\nsome demon's presence, and was worshipped in consequence, not on its own\naccount, but because of the mystery which it suggested.\n\nIn this manner Fetishism arose. The fetish worshipper leaves his hut in\nthe morning, sees some bright pebble glistening on his path, lifts it\nfrom the ground and says, this shall be my fetish. If he succeeds in the\nbusiness of the day, he places the little object in a shrine, gilds it,\nbrings it food, addresses his prayers to it; if it fails, it is cast\naside. Again, if after a little time the fetish ceases to fulfil his\nwishes, he breaks it and drags it in the mire by way of punishment.\n\nSuch are a few of the gross and grotesque conceptions to which the\nreligion of mystery has given birth. It is true, to the educated mind\nof the present day they will appear the very reverse of sublime. But\ngreatness is relative, and our own loftier conceptions of the sublime\nare but the slow result of a long process of growth and development.\n\n\nTHE RELIGION OF POWER\n\nIt has often been said that fear is the beginning of religion; a\nstatement of this kind however, cannot be accepted, without serious\nqualification. There is a sense of kinship with the great, in whatever\nform it may appear, of which even the meanest are susceptible. A nation\nworships the hero who ruins it; and slaves will take a certain pride in\nthe superiority of their masters. It is not fear so much as admiration\nof might which makes men servants of the mighty. The first tyrants on\nearth were, in all likelihood, strong, agile, and brave men, possessing\nin an extraordinary degree, the qualities which all others coveted. They\nwon applause, they were looked up to as natural leaders, and the arm of\nforce maintained what the esteem of their fellows had accorded in the\nfirst instance. There is a touch of the sublime even in the rudest\nadoration of force.\n\nIn the second stage of religious development, which we are now\napproaching, the theory of possession discussed in the above, was\nextended to the heavenly bodies, and the sun, moon and stars were\nendowed with the attributes of personal beings. Hence the origin of the\ngreat gods. As the sun is the most conspicuous body in the heavens,\nthe sun god figures as the central deity in every pantheon. The various\nphases through which the luminary passes are represented in distinct\npersonalities. We find gods of the rising sun and of the setting\nsun; gods of the sun of spring, summer and winter, gods also of the\ncloud-enshrouded sun, that battles with the storm giants.\n\nSince the hosts of heaven were supposed to be beings allied in nature\nto ourselves, the action and interaction of the meteoric phenomena\nwas ascribed to personal motives, and the ingenuity of the primitive\nphilosophers was exhausted in finding plausible pretexts to explain\ntheir attractions and repulsions, their seeming friendships and\nhostilities. Thus arose the quaint and fanciful myths with which the\ntraditions of antiquity abound. Those problems which the modern mind\nseeks to settle with the help of scientific investigation, the limited\nexperience of an earlier age was barely competent to attack, and it\ncovered with some pretty fiction, the difficulties which it could not\nsolve. The genealogy and biography of the sun-god formed the main theme\nof all mythologies.\n\nThe daily progress of the sun through the heavens, is described as\nfollows: Each morning the golden crowned god leaves his golden palace\nin the East, deep down below the ocean's waves; he mounts his golden\nchariot, drawn by fiery steeds. A rosy fingered maiden opens the purple\ngate of day, upward rush the steeds through blinding mist along the\nsteep ascent of heaven, down they plunge at evening into the cooling\nwaters of the sea; the naiads await the deity and bear him backward to\nhis orient home.\n\nAgain the fair youth Adonis is said to come out of the forest, where\nnymphs had nurtured him. Venus and he hunt in joyous company through\nwood and dale. One day Adonis is slain; the blood that trickled from\nhis wounds has turned the roses red, and the tender anemones have sprung\nfrom the tears that love wept when she beheld his fall. The young god\nwho comes out of the forest is Spring; for a time he disports joyously\non earth, with love for his companion, but his term of life is quickly\nended. Spring dies, but ever returns anew. Among the Syrian women it\nwas customary for a long period to observe the festival of the Adoneiah;\nwith every sign of grief they first bemoaned the god's untimely death;\nthey beat their breasts, cut off the rich luxuriance of their hair;\nshowed upon his effigy the marks of the wounds he had received; bound\nhim with linen bands, anointed him with costly oil and spices, and then\nburied him. On the seventh day the cry was heard, Adonis lives, Adonis\nis resurrected from the grave. The story of a young god typical of the\nSpring who suffers a premature death, and after a time resurrects from\nthe grave is well known in the mythologies of other nations.\n\nThe progress of the sun through the seasons is thus personified. The\nrays of the sun are described as the locks of the sun-god's hair. When\nthe sun's heat waxes, these locks increase in abundance, when it wanes\nthey diminish, until in mid-winter the head of the sun-god is entirely\nbald. At this season the god is supposed to be exceedingly weak, and his\neye, bright in the summer, is now become blind. He is far from his home,\nand subject to the power of his enemies, the wintry storms. These traits\nrecur in the familiar Hebrew myth of Samson. The word Samson means sun;\nhe is bound with ropes, as is also the sun-god among the Polynesians.\nThe secret of his strength is in his hair. Shorn of this the giant\nbecomes feeble as a child, and is blinded by his foes.\n\nBut it is the sun in its conflict with the demons of the storm, the sun\nas a warrior and a hero, that chiefly attracts the _religious_ reverence\nof the heroic age. In nature there is no more striking exhibition of\npower than is revealed in the phenomena of the thunder-storm. Even to us\nit has not lost its sublimity, and a sense of awe overcomes us whenever\nthe mighty spectacle is enacted in the heavens. Primitive man had a far\ndeeper interest in the issue of the tempest than we are now capable of\nappreciating. To him the clouds appeared to be ferocious monsters, and\nwhen they crowded about the central luminary, he feared that they might\nquench its light in everlasting darkness. The very existence of the\nuniverse seemed to be threatened. The sun-god, the true friend of man,\nhowever arises to wage war against the demons: a terrific uproar follows\nand the contending forces meet. Do you hear Thor's far-sounding\nhammer, Jove's bolt falling in the thunder clap: do you see Indra's\nlightning-spear flashing across the sky, and piercing the sides of the\nstorm dragon? The light triumphs; the tempest rolls away, but presently\nreturns to be again defeated. In this way arose the transparent stories\nof Jupiter's conflict with Typhon, his precipitate flight, and his final\nvictory; the story of Indra's warfare against the writhing serpent,\nVritra, and numerous others that might be mentioned. It is the sun-god\nwho flashes the lightning and hurls the thunder. To him men owe the\nmaintenance of the order of existence. He is the mightiest of the gods.\nFighting their battles on high, he is invoked by the warriors to aid\nthem in their earthly-conflicts; he takes precedence of all the other\ndeities; he the strongest god is raised to the throne of the celestial\nstate.\n\nNow if we study the history of these deities, their intercourse among\nthemselves and with men, we find them to be no more than colossal images\nof ourselves cast on the mists of the unknown. It is our face and form\nthat Jupiter wears; the echo of our wishes comes back to us in his\noracles. \"If horses and cows could draw their gods,\" an ancient\nphilosopher has pointedly said, \"as horses and cows would they draw\nthem.\" The gods share our passions, the good and the evil, distinguished\nonly in this, that what we feebly attempt, they can execute on a scale\nof gigantic magnitude. They love and bless and shower a thousand gifts\nupon their worshippers; but they can hate also; are vain, vindictive,\ncruel.\n\nThe gods demand tribute. Like the kings of earth, they received the best\nshare of the spoils of war and of the chase; and gold and silver also\nwas deposited in their sanctuaries. Perfumed incense and dainty cakes\nwere placed upon their altars. The gods are hungry, they must be fed.\nThe gods are thirsty, and certain strong narcotic beverages were brewed\nespecially for their benefit. For this among the Hindoos the juice of\nthe soma plant was mixed with pure milk.\n\nThe gods demand blood. The wide prevalence of human sacrifice is the\nsaddest fact that stains the annals of religious history. Among the\nFijians the new boat of the chieftain was not permitted to venture upon\nthe waves until it had been washed with human blood, in order to secure\nit against shipwreck. Among the Khonds of India, we learn that the body\nof a human victim was literally torn in pieces and his blood mixed\nwith the new turned clod, in order to insure a plentiful harvest. It is\nestimated that at least twenty-five hundred human beings were annually\nsacrificed in the temples of Mexico. Human sacrifice was known among\nthe Greeks, and its practice among the Hebrews is recorded in the Hebrew\nBible.\n\nWhen the manners of men ameliorated, and gentler customs began to\nsupplant the barbarous usages of an earlier day, the tyranny of the\ngods was still feared, but various modes of substitution were adopted\nto appease their jealousy of human happiness. In India we are told, that\nthe god of light being displeased with the constant effusion of blood,\ncommanded a buffalo to appear from out the jungle, and a voice was heard\nsaying, sacrifice the buffalo and liberate the man.\n\nAnother mode of substitution was to give a part for the whole. Some one\nmember of the body was mutilated or curtailed in order to indicate that\nthe person's life was in reality forfeit to the god. Among certain of\nthe aboriginal tribes of America, the youth, on reaching the years of\nmaturity, was forced to place his hand upon a buffalo's skull, and one\nor more joints of the finger were then cut off and dedicated to the\ngreat spirit. There were other modes of mutilation of which I dare not\nspeak, but I will briefly add that the so-called rite of the covenant,\nwhich is practised among the Jews even at the present day, rose in\nexactly the same manner. Of course the original signification of the\ncustom has been forgotten and a purely symbolical mean-ing has been\nattached to it. Nevertheless, its continuance is a disgrace to religion.\nThe grounds of sanity on which it is urged, are not in themselves\ntenable, and if they were, religion would have no concern with them. It\nis but a fresh instance of the stubborn vitality which seems to inhere\nin the hoary superstitions of the past.\n\nOccasionally, when a whole people was threatened with destruction, some\nprominent and beloved individual was selected for sacrifice, in order\nthat by his death he might save the rest. The same feature was also\nintroduced into the legends of the gods. Philo tells us that the great\nGod El whom the Hebrews and Phoenicians worshiped, once descended to\nearth, and became a king. This El was the supreme deity. He had an only\nson whom he loved. One day when great dangers threatened his people,\nthe god determined to sacrifice his only begotten (--Greek--) son and\nto redeem his people: and year by year thereafter a solemn festival was\ncelebrated in Phoenicia in honor of that great sacrifice.\n\nThe religion of force has left its dark traces in the history of\nmankind. Even the higher religions accepted, while they spiritualized,\nits degrading conceptions into their systems. Slowly only and with the\ngeneral spread of intelligence and morality, can we hope that its last\nvestiges will be purged from the minds of men.\n\nVastness is an element of the sublime. In the religious conceptions of\nthe Hindoos we find it illustrated. It entered alike into the system of\nthe Brahmin and of the Buddhist, and determined their tone and quality.\nA certain fondness for the gigantic, is peculiar to Hindoo character.\nWitness the almost boundless periods of their ancient chronology;\nthe colossal forms with which the remains of their monuments and\narchitecture abound. A great Aryan nation having advanced from the\nwaters of the Indus to the shores of the sacred Ganges and having\nsubdued the natives by the force of superior numbers or bravery,\nhad learned to forget the active pursuits of war, and yielded to the\nlassitude engendered by the climate of their new settlements. Around\nthem they beheld a rich and luxuriant vegetation; birds of rare and\nmany colored plumage, stately trees rising from interminable jungles.\nRavishing perfumes lulled their senses as they reposed in the shade of\nthese fairy-like forests. It was a land suited to dreamy contemplation.\nHere the philosophic priests might dwell upon the vastness of the\nUniversal, and the imagination bewildered by the ever shifting phenomena\nof the scene might well seek some principle of unity which could connect\nand explain the whole. Brahma was the name they gave to the pervading\nSpirit of All things. From Brahma the entire order of existence has\nemanated; the elements of material things, plants, birds, beasts and\nmen. The lower castes came forth first and are nearest the brutes;\nthe castes of free-born workmen, and of warriors next, the priests and\nsaints last, in whom the world's soul found its loftiest expression.\n\nTo Brahma all things must return. Passing through an endless series of\ntransformations, and paying in the long and painful interval the penalty\nof every crime it has committed, the migrating spirit of man is led back\nat last to its primal source, and is resolved in the Brahma whence it\narose. The connection between individual and universal life was thus\nkept constantly in view. The soul in the course of its wanderings might\npass through every conceivable mode of existence; might assume the\nshape of creeping plants and worms, and wild animals; might rise to the\npossession of miraculous powers in the heavens of the Rishis, while its\nfinal destiny was to be reunited with the One and All.\n\nThe Buddhist Nirvana resembles the Brahma in being accounted the\nultimate principle of the world. When in the sixth century B. C. the\nroyal Hermit of the Cakyas revolted against the cruel despotism of the\npriesthood, the legend relates that the sight of suffering in the forms\nof sickness, old age and death, roused him from a life of indolent\npleasure, and impelled him to seek a remedy for the ills of human life.\nHis counsels were sweet and kindly; he taught self-control and wise\nmoderation in the indulgence of the passions, and brotherly help and\nsympathy to lessen the evils which foresight cannot avert. He lifted\nthe degraded masses of the Indian land from out their dull despair; he\nwarred against the distinctions of caste, he took women and slaves for\nhis companions, he was a prophet of the people, whom the people loved.\nBut even to him the ills of this mortal condition seemed little when\ncompared with the endless possibilities of future ill that awaited\nthe soul in the course of its ceaseless transmigrations. He yearned to\nshorten its weary path to the goal; and the mystic methods by which he\nsought to enter Nirvana were a means adapted to this end. Nirvana is\nthe beginning and the end of things. Nirvana in which there is neither\naction nor feeling; in which intelligence and consciousness are\nsubmerged, appeared to this pessimist preacher the last, the only\nreality. Life is a delusion, real only in its pains: the entire\ncessation of conscious existence, is the solution he offers to human\nsuffering.\n\nNirvana is the universal--its conception is vast and dim; it hovers in\nthe distance before the pilgrim of the earth; there will he find rest.\n\nUnlike the Western nations, the Hindoos regarded the idea of immortality\nwith dread and terror, rather than pleased anticipation. The highest\npromises of their religion, were intended to assure them that they would\ncease to continue as individual beings or cease to continue altogether.\nPeace in the tomb when this present toil is over seemed to them the\nmost desirable of goods, and a dreamless sleep from which no angel trump\nshould ever wake the sleeper.\n\n\"Two things,\" says Kant, \"fill the soul with ever new and increasing\nadmiration and reverence; the star-lit heavens above me, and the moral\nlaw within me.\"*\n\n     * Kant's Works (Rosenkranz edition) vol. viii. p. 312.\n\nThe Hebrews were the first to lend to the moral ideas a controlling\ninfluence in the sphere of religion. Let me attempt to briefly sketch\nthe origin of Monotheism amongst them, as numerous considerations\nelsewhere recited in detail, have led me to conceive of it. The\nreligions of the Semitic nations who surrounded ancient Israel were\nintensely emotional in character, and their gods were gods of pleasure\nand pain. In the temples unbounded license alternated with self\nsacrificing asceticism. The lewd rites of the goddess of love must\nbe regarded as typical of the one; the slaughter of sons in honor of\nMoloch, of the other. Now the Hebrews have been distinguished for the\npurity of their home life from a very early period of their history. The\nhigh value which they set on male offspring, the jealous vigilance with\nwhich they guarded the virtue of their women are alike illustrated in\nthe narratives of the Bible. The more gifted and noble minded among\nthem, beholding their domestic feelings outraged by the prevailing\nreligions, rebelled against the gross conceptions of idolatry. How could\nthey offer up their beloved sons for sacrifice, how could they give\nover their wives and daughters to shame? The controlling force of their\ncharacter determined the doctrines of their creed. Judaism became, so to\nspeak, a family religion. Jehovah is conceived of as the husband of\nthe people. Israel shall be his true and loyal spouse, the children\nof Israel are His children. The image of Jehovah is that of the ideal\npatriarch. Like the patriarch, he is the head of the spiritual family\nof man. Like the patriarch in ancient times, he is the lawgiver and\nthe judge; He is the guardian of domestic purity. The word for false\nreligion in Hebrew signifies fornication. \"Contend against your mother,\"\nsays Jehovah, \"for I am not her spouse, nor she my wife.\" \"My people\nlust after false gods, for the spirit of impurity has seduced them.\" And\nthe day of the triumph of the true religion is thus predicted: \"On that\nday thou shalt not call me any more my Baal, (paramour) but thou shalt\ncall me my husband, and I shall wed thee in justice, etc.\" Thus the idea\nof Jehovah sprang from the soil of the family, and the conception of a\ndivine father in heaven was derived from the analogy of the noblest of\nmoral institutions on earth. The spiritual God of the Hebrews was the\npersonification of the moral Ideal.\n\nLike his relations to the chosen people and to mankind in general,\nthe relations of the Deity to the external world were described in\naccordance with the demands of the Ethical Law. Two things morality\ninsists upon; first, that the natural in its coarser acceptation shall\nbe subordinate to the moral. Secondly, that in the scale of values\nitself shall occupy the highest rank, and that the purpose human life on\nearth can only be a moral purpose. As the mechanism of nature is not of\nitself calculated to harmonize with the purposes of spirit, it behooves\nthat the spiritual God shall possess a power over matter adequate to\nenforce the claims of the moral ideal, such power as only the creator\ncan exert over his creatures. Hence the doctrine of the creation. And\nagain the state of perfection to which the human heart aspires can only\nbe attained through the instrumentality of supreme wisdom, power and\nlove, in a millennial age when the scheme of the universe will be\nperfected in the reign of absolute justice and peace. Hence the doctrine\nof the Messiah. Both doctrines are the typical expression of a moral\nneed.\n\nIn the opening of Genesis we read a description of the making of the\nworld. All was wild vast chaos, and darkness brooded over the abyss,\nwhen the Spirit of Jehovah breathed on the waters; a single word of\ncommand and light penetrated the gloom, the waters divided, the great\nluminaries started forth on their course; the earth clothed herself in\nverdure, and the forms of living beings sprang into existence. The words\n\"God saw everything he had made and behold it was very good,\" contain\nthe gist of the narrative. In Zephaniah and Isaiah we read: \"On that day\nI will turn to the people a pure language that they may all call upon\nthe name of the Lord to serve him with one consent.\" \"No one shall then\ndo evil, no one hurt in all my holy mountain, for the earth shall be\nfull of the knowledge of God as the waters cover the sea.\"\n\nThese visions are not true in the sense of historical occurrences past\nor future. That the world was ever created out of nothing, what human\nunderstanding can conceive of it? That a time will come when society\nshall be so transformed that the pure language of love alone shall be\nspoken, who that is instructed in the failings of our finite nature can\ncredit it? They are true in the sense of ideals; true, with the truth\nof poetry, bodying forth in concrete shape the universal yearnings of\nmankind.\n\nThere is also another element of belief associated with the doctrine of\nthe Messiah, which still more plainly illustrates the typical value of\nreligious tenets. In the coming week the churches throughout Christendom\nwill rehearse the story of the passion and the death of their founder.\nMournful chants and lamentations will recall every circumstance of the\ndark drama that closed on Calvary. That tale of harrowing agony still\nmoves the hearts of millions as though it were a tale of yesterday. It\nis the symbol of the suffering and the crucifixion of the whole human\nrace. \"Ah, but our griefs he has borne, our sorrows he has carried, he\nwas wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities.\"\nHundreds of years before the birth of Christ, the author of these lines\ntranscribed in them the sad experience of the reformers of his day. He\ndoes not refer to any one Messiah; he speaks of that legacy of sacrifice\nwhich is the heritage of the great and good, the world over. For who can\nhelp us when we are plunged in deepest anguish, when it seems as though\nwe must sink under the load of trouble, but one who has endured like\ntrials, endured and triumphed over them? It is the martyrdom of the pure\nthat has redeemed mankind from guilt and sin? There is this constant\natonement of the strong for the weak, of the good for the evil. As old\nPaul Gerhard has it in his seventeenth century hymn:\n\n     \"When utmost dread shall seize me,\n     That human heart can know,\n     Do thou from pain release me,\n     By thy great pain and woe.\"\n\nThe teachings of religion then have their source in the aspirations\nof the human heart; are the echoes of our wishes and our hopes. Not\nvalueless on that account, but valuable only in so far as they express\nin noble types, noble aspirations of our souls. It were sad indeed if\nmorality depended upon the certainty of dogma. On the contrary it\nis true that all that is best and grandest in dogma, is due to the\ninspiration of the moral law in man. The time will come when the tenets\nof faith will no longer be narrowly understood as now; and while\ntheir influence will still be great, they will cease to be harmful\nand confining. They will be used as rare imagery, to deck the sublime\nmeanings which they symbolize; not as vessels that contain the absolute\ntruth, but as choice and beautiful vases, fit to hold the ever fresh and\never blooming flowers of the ideal.\n\nThe dogmatic assertion of religious teachings we hold to be a serious\nevil, and dogma as such we cannot accept. Its influence in the past has\nbeen pernicious, and is so at the present day no less. It has inflamed\nthe hatred of man against his brother man, it has led to the fatal error\nof duties toward a personal Creator, distinct from our duties toward our\nfellows: it has perverted the moral sense, by giving to the concern of\nfuture salvation, a degree of prominence before which the interests\nof the present life sink into comparative insignificance; it does not\nafford us a common basis whereon we could unite, for it is by nature\nuncertain and calculated to provoke dissensions. On the other hand we\nbehold in conscience the root of whatever good religion has achieved,\nand the law of conscience must suffice to guide and elevate our lives.\nTo refresh the moral sentiment is the one thing needful in our time, and\nindeed presents a task on whose accomplishment the highest interests of\nsociety depend. Time will show that a simple appeal to duty will surely\nsuffice to lead men to more earnest exertions toward the good. Time will\nshow that those who know no other mode of salvation than the salvation\nwhich is attained by works of love, will be at least as active in the\npursuit of virtue as those who put their trust in faith.\n\nThe gold of morality has been variously coined in the world's religious\nsystems. Various have been the symbols that were stamped thereon, and\nvarious the images of the King in whose name it was issued, but\ntheir value so far as they had value was in the moral gold that they\ncontained, and in naught else. Let Liberalism stamp its coin with the\nEagle of Liberty only, in its ethical teachings it will still retain the\nsubstance of all religion.\n\nDogma we will keep in abeyance,--this is our point of departure, and\nthe deed superior to the creed. Be it ours to hold high the moral ideal,\nwhether we clothe it with personality or not. Be it ours to act divine\nthings, no matter how we regard divine mysteries. Be it ours to help in\nlifting up the fallen, to lend free utterance to the complaints of\nthe oppressed, to brand the social iniquities of our time, to give our\nhearts warmth and the labor of our hands to the cause of their redress,\nand to push on with whatever power we may, the progress of our race\ntoward those high and holy goals of which the dreamers dream, the\nprophets prophesy.\n\n\n\n\nIII. THE NEW IDEAL\n\nThe old religions and science are at war. With pitiless consistency\nscience directs its attack upon their vulnerable positions. The\nconception of inexorable law subverts the testimony of miracles; the\nfond belief in truths divinely revealed fails to withstand the searching\nanalysis of historical criticism; the battle of science is yet far from\nbeing won, but from our standpoint the issue cannot appear doubtful. It\nbehooves us therefore to inquire into the moral bearings of the general\nresult thus far achieved and to review what we have lost and won.\nShall we succeed thereby in allaying the sense of alarm that is wont\nto agitate the timid heart when it beholds so much that it confidently\nbelieved a part of the everlasting verities of life, sink back into the\ngulf of uncertainty and doubt?\n\nWe are standing at the portals of a new age, and new conceptions have\narisen of the purpose which we are here to accomplish and of the means\nof help we can command in the attempt to realize our destiny. These\nnew conceptions we call The New Ideal. It is the purpose of our present\ndiscourse to compare some salient features of the old and new.\n\nThe old and new Ideals agree in looking to an Infinite beyond the\nborders of experience, for it is in the nature of the ideal to lift us\nabove the merely real. They differ in the direction in which they\nseek their object, and the bias which they consequently give to men's\nthoughts and actions. Theology, perceiving the inability of reason to\nsolve the problems of the beginning and the end, yet unable to\nrestrain a desire to know what is really unknowable, has impressed the\nimagination into its service, and drawn a picture of the transcendental\nworld, conforming indeed to the analogies of man's terrestrial\nexistence, but on this account all the more adapted to answer the wishes\nof the masses of mankind. Enough for them that they feel the need of\nbelieving the picture true. We of the New School are, if possible,\neven more profoundly convinced of the limitations of human reason. We\ncheerfully accord to the religious conceptions of the past a poetic\nvalue; they are poetry, often of the sublimest kind; but we cannot\ndeceive ourselves as to the noble weakness of the heart to which they\nowe their origin; we cannot forget that in their case alas the wish\nhas been father to the thought. To us the mystery is still mystery--the\nveiled arcana are not revealed, the riddle is unread. But we are not\ntherefore filled with terror or dismay. In the moral nature of man we\ndiscover a divine element. In the voice of conscience we hear the voice\nof the present divinity within us, and we learn to regard this mortal\nstate of ours as a channel through which the currents of Eternity ebb\nand flow ceaselessly. The divine nature is not far off, nor beyond the\nsea; in our own hearts on our own lips!\n\nBut let us seek to scrutinize the distinctive features of the old and\nnew more closely. The old ideal was supernatural in character, it taught\nman to regard his life on earth as a brief, temporary transit, himself\nan exile from the Kingdom on high. The concerns of the present world\nwere in consequence deemed of secondary importance, and the eye dwelt\nwith anxious preference on the dim chances of the hereafter. Where the\nhope of immortality has been prominently put forward by any religion,\nthe effect has thus but too often proved disastrous to the progress and\nsecurity of society. It is well-known by what painful penances the monks\nof the Middle Ages sought release from the trammels of the flesh,\nhow they affected to despise the ties of domestic affection, how they\nretarded the advancement of knowledge, how the passions which they\nsought in vain to suppress often recoiled upon them with fearful\nretribution, and gave rise to disorders which seriously undermined\npublic virtue.\n\nBut not only has supernaturalism tended indirectly to weaken the springs\nof virtue, it has called into being an order of men whose very existence\nis a standing menace to the freedom of intellect and the rights of\nconscience. The distance between the Creator and his creatures is so\ngreat, that the intervention of some third party is deemed necessary\nto mediate between the finite and the Infinite. The priest steps in to\nperform this office, and his influence is great in proportion to the\nvalue of the services which he is supposed to render. Furthermore it\nis believed that the personal deity requires the performance of certain\nactions in his honor, and what these actions are is again left to the\npriest to determine. In this manner the ceremonial part of religion\ngrows up, and acquires a degree of importance fatal to the moral life.\nThe duties toward God transcend the duties toward man, and but too often\nusurp their place.\n\nThe Bible likens the relations of man to God to those of a child to its\nfather. It is true supernaturalism has often proved a valuable stay to\nthose already morally strong, and it were absurd to deny that under its\nfostering care many of the noblest qualities that distinguish the filial\nrelation have been developed in the lives of religious men. It is from\nno lack of appreciation on our part that we have dwelt on the evils\nrather than the blessings it has brought. But in acknowledging that we\nhave really lost the sense of protection, the childlike trust which lend\nsuch rare beauty to the character of many ancient models of piety, we\ndeemed it important to point to the shades that darken the picture\nof the * supernatural religions, its lights are made the theme of a\nthousand discourses week after week, and are hardly in any danger of\nbeing speedily forgotten.\n\nFrom the back-ground of the old Ideal stands out in bold relief the new.\nIt is the reverse of supernatural; if it takes pride in anything, it is\nin marking a return to nature. Trammels of the flesh, contamination of the\nbody? There is nothing it tells us in itself contaminating. The body is\nnot alien to the mind, it is the seed plot from which mind flowers out\nin every part. Regard the form of man, observe the quick play of the\nfeatures, the expressive smile, the speaking glance, every attitude,\nevery gesture full of meaning, the whole body irradiated as it were,\nwith the indwelling intelligence. And so the passions too which we are\nwont to associate with our corporeal nature are but the rough material\nfrom which the artist soul behind them fashions its immortal types of\nbeauty and of holiness. There is a graceless innuendo in the term nature,\nas of something hard, gross, material. In truth, nature is the subtlest,\nmost ethereal presence of which we catch a gleam only at rare intervals,\nthe reflex of a hidden light that glimmers through the facts and motions\nof the world. Take the nature of water for instance. Is it in the\nhydrogen, in the oxygen, in the single atom? Not there, yet there!\nsomewhere hovering, imponderous, elusive. It comes nighest to the senses\nwhen the atoms act and react upon each other, in the flow of mighty\nrivers, in the leap of cataracts, in the turmoil of the sea. Or the\nnature of the tree; is it in the roots, in the trunk, in the spreading\nbranches, the leafy crown? Perhaps in the fruit more than elsewhere the\nhidden being of the tree comes forth into external reality, and opens\nto the eye and touch. In action and fruition the deeper nature appears.\nThus in the outward world, and thus in man. Our soul-life, too, is a\nflowing stream, whose power is not in any part but in the ceaseless,\nchangeful motion of the whole, that forms a strong spiritual current on\nwhich our thoughts and sentiments move like swimmers toward an infinite\nsea. And like a tree are we, with the mighty trunk of intellect, the\nspreading branches of imagination, the fibrous roots of the lower\ninstincts, that bind us to the earth. But the moral life is the fruit we\nbear; in it our true nature is revealed; in it we see the purpose of\nour being fulfilled. So when we speak of a return to nature, it is this\nhigher nature to which we refer, whose origin we know not, but whose\nworkings we feel, and know them by the token of the sweet satisfaction\nthey afford us to be the crown and glory of our lives. The old Ideal\nemphasizes the Eternal that is without us; the new the Eternal that is\nwithin ourselves. The old styles us exiles from the kingdom of truth;\nthe new summons us to be the banner-bearers of truth; the old points to\na heaven beyond the earth, the new tells us that our earth too is a part\nof the heaven, a light-world, among endless worlds of light.\n\nIf secondly we consider the means of support at our disposal in\nthe pursuit of the ideal, we find prayer in universal use among the\nadherents of the old. Prayer in the sense of supplication, has been\ndefined as \"a request made to the Deity as if he were a man.\" And truly\nthe language of prayer often tallies with this description. \"Let me\nsucceed in this undertaking,\" prays the Indian, \"that I may slay my\nenemy and bring home the tokens of victory to my dear family, in order\nthat they may rejoice together. Have pity on me and protect my life,\nand I will bring thee an offering.\" Some such inducement as the last is\nfrequently coupled with the petition, \"Here is an offering for you, O\nGod! Look kindly towards this family, let it prosper and increase, and\nlet us all be in good health.\" \"Let me come upon my enemies speedily,\nlet me find them sleeping and not awake, and let me slay a good many of\nthem.\" \"I pray for cattle, I pray for corn, I ask also for children, in\norder that this village may have a large population, and that your name\nmay never come to an end, for of old we have lived by your favor, let us\ncontinue to receive it. Remember that the increase of our produce is the\nincrease of your worship, and that its diminution must be the diminution\nof your rites.\" Among the Hindoos the efficacy ascribed to prayer was\nsuch that the gods themselves were deemed powerless to resist it, and\nthe mystic invocations of the priests exerted a fateful influence on the\ndestinies of the world. The ancient and modern literature of the Hebrews\nlikewise testifies to their faith in prayer, and Christianity has\nherein followed if not outstripped their example. In case of drought\nthe following prayer is offered in many of our churches: \"Send us, we\nbeseech thee, in this our necessity, such moderate rain and showers that\nwe may receive the fruits of the earth to our comfort and to thy honor.\"\nIn case of storms: \"We humbly beseech thee to restrain these immoderate\nrains, wherewith for our sins thou hast afflicted us, and we pray thee\nto send such seasonable weather that the earth may in due time yield her\nincrease for our benefit.\" In case of famine, \"Increase the fruits of\nthe earth by thy heavenly benediction, and grant that the scarcity\nand dearth which we now most justly suffer for our sins, through thy\ngoodness may be turned into plenty.\" In case of sickness, prayers are\noffered for the recovery of the sufferer.\n\nAgainst all these forms of petition the modern view of life emphatically\nprotests. It starts with the grandest of scientific generalizations,\nthat of the universality of nature's laws. These laws cannot be broken;\nthey govern the course of the planets as they revolve through space,\nthey appear in the slightest eddy of dust that rises on our streets. The\nworld is a Kosmos; to pray for a change in its arrangements is to pray\nfor its destruction. The rains come when they must come, and the earth\nyields or withholds her crop, as a system of causes determined from\nimmeasurable aeons of time prescribes. Is the God to whom men pray\nso poor a workman that he will change the mechanism of the Universe at\ntheir bidding? If all that is, is his work, why then the drought is\nhis work, and the famine, and the sickness are his work, and they are,\nbecause he has willed that they should be. \"The gods help them that\nhelp themselves.\" We are placed in a world with which we are but half\nacquainted; our business is to know it thoroughly. All the history of\nmankind from the beginning has been a series of tentative struggles to\nacquire this precious knowledge, and we have made indeed some headway.\nWe began by defending ourselves against the attacks of wild beasts; we\ntilled the soil; we invented tools, we formed communities, we moderated\nthe friction of social intercourse; we discovered the talisman of\nscience, and the Aladdin's lamp of art. In the treatment of disease also\na great advance has been made. When the Mayflower reached the American\ncontinent, she found a bleak and barren shore, full only of graves. A\ngreat epidemic had swept over the Indian tribes, and the natives fell\nlike dead flies before the scourge. They had charms and prayers; these\ndid not help them. We have accomplished a little; we are bound to aim\nat more. Why then call in the supernatural? It will not come, though we\ncall never so loudly. The vain attempt does but keep us from that which\nis more needful, active exertion and strenuous efforts at self-help.\nBut we are told that our success is poor at best, and that in the vast\nmajority of cases, all our exertions avail nothing: moreover it is said\nthat man is too frail and feeble a creature to depend upon himself alone\nin times of trial, and that prayer, whether it be answered or not, is\nvaluable as a means of consolation that soothes and stills the heart. It\nis but too true that our achievements fall far short of our desires. Let\nthose that do not, cannot pray, seek support in the sympathies of\ntheir kind, and where self-help fails, mutual help will offer them an\ninexhaustible source of strength and comfort. As for that species of\nprayer which is not addressed to a personal God at all, but claims to\nbe an aspiration, an outpouring of the spirit, we do fail to see how it\ndeserves the name of prayer in any sense. The use of the vocative,\nand of the pronoun thou is certainly calculated to mislead, and the\nappearance of inconsistency is hardly avoidable.\n\nLastly, the old Ideal was stationary, retrospective; it placed its\nparadise at the beginning of human history. In the far off past it\nbeheld our best and loftiest hopes anticipated and realized. Then the\nfull significance of life had been reached; then the oracles had spoken\nloudly and clearly whose faint echoes now float like memories of\nhalf forgotten melodies to our ear; then the imperishable truths were\nrevealed in those olden, golden days. Not so, says the new Ideal. Rude\nand wretched were the beginnings of mankind on earth, poor the mind, and\nvoid the heart. Far from being exemplary, the ideas of right and wrong\nentertained by our earliest progenitors were infinitely below our\nown. Not indeed, that the substance of the moral sentiment has ever\nperceptibly changed. The inherent principle of right remains the same,\nbut it assumes higher forms and is applied on a wider scale as the race\nadvances. Thus the commandment not to kill a being like ourselves was\nrecognized from the first, but in the earliest times, only members of\nthe same family were esteemed beings like ourselves; to kill a neighbor\nwas not wrong. The family widened into the clan, the clan into the\npeople, and all the nations are now embraced in the common bond of\nhumanity. Thus step by step the life of the clansman, the fellow citizen\nand at last of every human being came to be regarded as sacred. From a\ncommon centre morality has developed _outward in concentric circles_.\nIn different ages also different virtues predominated. Patriotism was\nesteemed highest in the Roman world; self-sacrifice and chastity in the\nfirst Christian communities. But whatever had thus been gained was not\nthereafter lost. Each age added its own to the stock of virtue; each\ncontributed its share to swell the treasure of mankind. The struggle for\nexistence that raged fiercely on the lower levels of culture, loses its\nharsher aspects as we advance upon the path of civilization. The methods\nof force by which the unfit were eliminated are gradually falling into\ndisrepute, if not into disuse. At last the good will survive because\nof its own persuasive excellency. The conflict will become one of ideas\nmerely, an emulous peaceful contest for the prize of truth.\n\nThat the manners of the modern world have indeed become ameliorated, our\nown brief experience as a society serves to illustrate. A few centuries\nago, such an enterprise as ours would never have been attempted, or if\nundertaken, would have been speedily crushed by the arm of authority or\nthe weight of prejudice. We will not say that bigotry is dead; the fires\nof persecution still slumber beneath their ashes, and now and then start\nup into pretty bonfires to amuse the idle crowd; but the time has\ngone by when they could mount on funeral pyres--they can kindle\nconflagrations no more.\n\nThe new Ideal is progressive. Whatever we have achieved, it tells us\nthere are larger achievements yet beyond. As we rise in the scale of\nmoral worth, the eye becomes clearer and wider of vision. We see in\nremote ages a race of men freer and stronger because of our toils, and\nthat is our dearest hope and our sweetest recompense that they shall\nreap what we have sown.\n\nThe old and the new Ideals will struggle for the mastery; that which is\nstronger will conquer as of old, in the struggle for existence. But the\nnew hope fills us with trust and gladness that that which is true will\nbe strong.\n\n\n\n\nIV. THE PRIESTS OF THE IDEAL\n\nIt is with good reason, that the very name of the priesthood, has become\nodious to the modern mind. How has their fanaticism drenched the earth\nwith blood, how has their unbridled ambition sown seeds of discord\namong the nations; how lamentable a commentary is the record of their\nfrailties upon the assumption of superior sanctity and God-given\nauthority. Yet it is not the priestly office, but its abuse, which has\nproved of evil, nor has the time yet come, when the ministry of priests\ncan be safely dispensed with. There shall come a new Ideal to attract\nmen's reverence and a new service of the Infinite and a new priesthood\nalso to do its ministry. It is of this modern priesthood, I would speak.\n\nFear not that I am about to advocate a return to that system of\nspiritual bondage, from which we have but just escaped. The priests to\nwhom we allude shall not be known by cassock or surplice. It is not\nat the altar they shall serve, least of all shall they have dogmas to\ncommunicate. They shall not be more than human, only if possible more\nhuman. Priests have we of science, we name them so; men whose whole soul\nis wrapped up in the pursuit of knowledge: priests of art, who dedicate\ntheir lives to the service of the Beautiful, priests also of the Moral,\nartists of the Good, sages in the science of Virtue, teachers of the\nIdeal.\n\nLet us consider for a moment, in order to illustrate our meaning, the\nlife of one such priest, whose fame has come down to us undimmed by the\ncorroding influence of time--the life of Socrates. He held no office, he\nministered at no shrine, yet he was in the true sense a priest. A plain\nunpretentious man, content to live on coarse fare, inured to want,\nhomely in appearance, using homely language; nothing had he in\nappearance to attract; yet the gay youths left their feasts and frolics\nwhen he approached, and the busy market-place was hushed to listen\nto the strange wisdom of his sayings; there was indeed a singular and\npotent charm in this man's soul. He had a great need of righteousness,\nwonderful, how he awakened the same need in the hearts of the Athenian\nburghers of his day. He was the reverse of dogmatic. In comparison with\nthe vastness of the unknown, he was wont to say, all human knowledge\nis little even to nothingness, he did not assume to know the truth, but\nstrove to assist men in finding truths for themselves. He had his own\nenlightened views on questions of theology. But far from desiring to\nconvert others to his convictions, he rather sought to divert their\nattention from those mysterious problems, in which men can never be\nwise, problems that are no nearer their solution today, than they were\ntwo thousand years ago. To those who questioned him concerning religion\nhe replied: Are ye then masters of the humanities, that ye seek to pry\ninto divine secrets? His father had been a fashioner of statues before\nhim, he was a fashioner of souls! This Socrates was condemned to suffer\ndeath on the charge of atheism, and met his fate with the calmness of\nthe philosophic mind. If death, he said, is progress to untried spheres,\nthen welcome death! If it is sleep only, then also welcome death and its\ndeep repose. All the tokens of the priest were fulfilled in him. He was\ntrue to himself and unbared to others the veiled truths of their own\nhigher nature. He was a loftier presence on earth, a living flame fed\nfrom its own central being, a sun to which the world turned and was\nthereby enlightened. We perceive then, that what we desire is not a new\nthing. There has been this service of the Ideal from the earliest times.\nOnly a new plea would we urge for larger fidelity to that which the best\nhave striven for, and which under new conditions it will be the glory of\nour age to approach more nearly.\n\nThe priest shall be a teacher of the \"Ideal,\" but what is the Ideal and\nhow distinguish it from the Real. Regard the trees, behold their number,\nthe wondrous plenitude of their kinds.. There is the lithe and slender\npine, the mighty oak, the stately palm, the tender willow. Alike\nyet most unlike. And who has ever seen the perfect tree! Observe the\nexpressive features of the human face. How many thousands of such faces\nare born into the world each year and yet no two alike. By what fine\nshades, what scarce perceptible curves, what delicate touches has\nnature's chisel marked them each apart. Graceful forms and lovely faces\nthere are, yet perfect none. Now the Ideal is the perfection of the\nReal. To find it we must go beyond the Realities. We study the nature of\nthe tree, of man. We note the suggestions of the various parts, complete\nand produce them in utmost harmony, each perfect in itself, each serving\nby its own perfection, the rounded symmetry of the whole. In the image\nthus created we grasp the ideal form. Art with its genial enchantments,\ncreates such images and gives them permanence in pure types of immortal\nsignificance. Art is idealism of form.\n\nThe intellect also, which looks out from behind the features, the\nindwelling man, exhibits the same twofold aspect of the Real and Ideal.\nOur real thoughts are incomplete and inadequate. We are led astray a\nthousand times by false analogies, we are decoyed into the labyrinths\nof fancy, we become the victims of impression, the toys of circumstance.\nBut deep down in the basic structure of the mind are true laws, unerring\nguides. Logic expresses them, logic is the idealism of intellect.\n\nAnd lastly we recognize the same distinction in the realm of feeling.\nTo the untutored caprice, the overmastering impulse, in brief to the\nrealism of the passions is opposed the law of right feeling, which\nethics expresses. Ethics is the idealism of character. We call this last\nthe capital revelation of man's nature. The moral law is not derivative,\nit can not be proven, it can not be denied. It is the root from which\nsprings every virtue, every grace, all wisdom and all achievement. An\nattempt has indeed been made to base morality upon a certain commonplace\nutility, but true morality scorns your sad utilities. That is useful,\nwhich serves an object besides itself, while morality is itself an end,\nand needs and admits no sanction save its own excellency. As it delights\nthe man of science to expand his judgment in ever wider and wider\ngeneralizations, as the larger thought is ever the truer thought, so is\nthere an exquisite pleasure and an unspeakable reward in expanding the\nnarrow consciousness of self in the unselfish, and the larger emotion\nis ever the nobler emotion. We speak of the moral Ideal, as The IDEAL,\nbecause it expresses the central idea of human life,# the purpose of our\nexistence on earth. To expound and illustrate its bearings on our daily\nduties, our joys, our griefs and our aspirations, is the scope and limit\nof the priestly office.\n\nThe moral ideal would embrace the whole of life. Before it nothing is\npetty or indifferent, it touches the veriest trifles and turns them into\nshining gold. We are royal by virtue of it, and like the kings in the\nfairy tale, we may never lay aside our crowns. It tells us, that nothing\nshall be for its uses only, but all things shall take their tone and\nquality from the central idea.\n\nWhen we build a house, it shall not be for its uses only. We shall have\nkitchens and drawing rooms and libraries and pictures and flowers, if\npossible. But the house, with all its comforts and luxuries, is mere\nframework, and our words and doings construct the true, the spiritual\nhome. When we sit down to table, it shall not be for the use of the\nfood and the flavor of the wine only, but morality should preside at the\nfeast and lend it grace and dignity. Morality does not mope in corners,\nis not sour nor gloomy. It loves genial fellowship, loves to convert\nour meanest wants into golden occasions for joy and sympathy and happy\ncommunion. Manners too are the offspring of character. We do not rate\nhighly the dry and cheerless conventionalisms of etiquette, but in\ntheir origin, they were the fruit of truth, and love. The rules of good\nbreeding may be reduced to two; self-possession and deference. As when\na public speaker loses his self-control, his own uncertainty is quickly\ncommunicated to his audience, and he forfeits his influence over his\nhearers; so the same cause produces the same effect in every lesser\naudience that gathers in our parlors. Society says to you: If I shall\ntrust you, you must begin by trusting yourself. The man of the world\nwill enter the palace of the prince and the cottage of the peasant with\nthe same equipoise of manner. If he respects himself, there is no\nreason why he should stand abashed. Self-possession is essentially\nself-respect. Deference, too, is a primary condition of all courtesy.\nIt teaches us to concede to others whatever we claim for ourselves; it\nleads us instinctively to avoid loudness, and self-complacency. It is\nexpressed not only in the polished phrase, but in mien, attitude, every\nmovement. Self-possession and deference of manner are both the outgrowth\nof moral qualities, the one depending on the consciousness of personal\nworth, the other inspired by an unselfish regard for the well-being of\nothers. From these two it were possible to deduce the rules of a\nnew 'Chesterfield,' which should be free from all the conceit and\naffectation of the old. Unfortunately, manners are no longer the natural\noutpouring of heart-goodness. Men attire themselves in politeness as\nthey do in rich apparel; they may be as rude as they please, the year\nround, they know they can be fine on occasion. Moreover in the home\ncircle, where the forms of courtesy are quite indispensable to prevent\nundue friction; to send the light of grace and poetry into a world of\nlittle cares; to fill the atmosphere of our daily surroundings as\nwith the fragrance of a pervading perfume; they are yet most commonly\nneglected. The word manners has the same meaning as morals. When we\nshall have better morals, we shall have truer and sweeter manners.\n\nThe Ideal which thus seeks to interpenetrate the most ordinary affairs\nof private life, stands out also in the market place, in the forum, in\nthe halls of legislation, and setting aside the merely useful, exhorts\nmen to return to permanent values. That is the ideal view of politics\nwhich teaches us to hold the idea of country superior to the utilities\nof party, to exact worthiness of the public servants, to place the\ncommon good above sectional animosities and jealousies. That is the\nideal view of commerce, which impels the merchant, while seeking\nprosperity by legitimate means, to put conscience into his wares and\ndealings and to keep ever in sight the larger purposes of human\nlife. That is the ideal view of the professions, which leads their\nrepresentatives to subordinate the claims of ambition and material gain\nto the enduring interests of science, justice, and of all the great\ntrusts that are confided to their keeping. And he therefore shall be\ncalled a priest of the Ideal, who by precept and example will divert us\nfrom the absorbing pursuit of the realities and make plain to us that\nthe real is transitory, while in the pursuit of the Ideal alone we can\nfind lasting happiness. For the realities are constantly disconcerting\nus in our search for the better. They are so powerful, so insistent; we\nthink them every thing until we have proved their attractions and find\nthem nothing. We have that only which we are. But the common judgment\nholds to the reverse; we are only what we have. And so the turbulent\ncrowd plunges madly into the race--for acres, for equipage, for\nwell-stocked larders, for office, for fame. Good things are these, as\nscales on the ladder of life, but life is somewhat more than acres and\nequipage and office and fame. Seldom indeed do we truly live. Often are\nwe but shadows of other lives. We affect the fashions not only in dress\nbut also in thought and opinion. We are good or bad, as public opinion\nbids us. The state is ruined, the church is corrupted, and the world's\ngiddy masquerade rushes heedlessly on. Give me one who will think Having\nand Seeming less than Being; who will be content to be himself and a\nlaw unto himself and in him I will revere the ideal man. Before him the\nshams and mockeries of existence shall sink away. He will look into his\nown soul and tell you the oracles he has read there, and you will hear\nand behold your own heart. He will plant the sign of the Eternal on a\nhigh standard and call unto a people that strays in the wilderness to\nlook up to that and be saved. The old and the young will he instruct,\nand they shall love him, for his words will be an articulate cry to the\ndumb voices in their own breasts. This is the be-all and end-all of his\nmission,--to make them acquainted with themselves. Do you know he will\nsay, what a power is in you, what a light is hidden in the deep recesses\nof your nature. Artists are ye all to whom your own soul is given to\nmold it into beauty. Happy, happy indeed if you seek no other reward\nbut the artist's joy in his work and know that to be your glory and your\nrecompense.\n\nIt is well, that there should be priests appointed to bear such messages\nto us from time to time as we rest from our toil; to bring us face\nto face with the inner life. But there are special occasions in these\npassing years of ours, when the ideal bearings of life come home to us\nwith peculiar force and when we require the priest to be their proper\ninterpreter.\n\nMarriage is one of them. We often hear it said that marriage is a mere\nlegal compact. The state, it is true, has a vital interest in protecting\nthe purity of the conjugal relation and may prescribe certain forms to\nwhich its citizens are bound to conform. But has the meaning of the new\nbond been indeed fully expressed, when the magistrate in the court room\nhas pronounced the young man and the maiden to be now husband and wife?\nAmong the ancient Hebrews youths and young girls were wont to meet\non the Day of Atonement, the most solemn day of the year, the day of\npurification from sin, to cement their affections and plight their\ntroth. For marriage itself was esteemed an act of purification. Marriage\nis the foundation of all morality. Its celebration does not end with the\nwedding day: it is a constant celebration, a perpetual intermarrying of\ntwo souls while life lasts.\n\nNot the state only, but humanity also, that ideal state of which we are\nall citizens, has an interest in the contract. A new sanctuary is to be\nreared sacred to the ineffable mysteries of the home-life; in the home\nwith all the tender and holy associations that cluster about it let it\nbe dedicated. The supreme festival of humanity is marriage. There shall\nbe music and joy and a white-robed bride with myrtle wreath; and solemn\nwords to express the solemn meanings of the act.\n\nAt the grave also is the office of the priest, When some dear friend has\nbeen taken from us, when the whole earth seems empty for the loss\nof one and the pillars of existence seem broken, he shall say to the\ngrieving heart: Arise, be strong. He shall bid your brooding sorrow\npause. He shall speak of larger duties, which they you mourn have left\nyou, as their legacy. Larger duties: this is his medicine. You are not\nfree, you poor and sadly stricken friends to stand aside in idle woe,\nbut you shall make for the departed a memorial in your lives and assume\ntheir half completed tasks. So the loss, though loss it be, will purify\nyou, and vim and vigor be found in the consolations of the Ideal. We\ntrust that we have used the term priest in no narrow restricted sense.\nIt is not the hierarchies of the past or the present of whom we have\nspoken. The priest is not superior to his fellow men, nor has he access\nto those transcendental regions which are closed to others. His power\nis in this, that he speaks what all feel. And he shall be counted an\nacceptable teacher, then only, when the slumbering echoes within you\nwaken to the music that moves and masters him.\n\nThere have been those, whose lives were molded on such a pattern among\nthe clergy at all times, and it is this circumstance, that has attracted\nthe reverence of mankind to the priestly office.\n\nNoble men were they whose love burst through the cramping fetters of\ntheir creeds, apostles of liberty, missionaries of humanity.\n\nBut there is one other trait necessary to complete the picture. The\npriest of the Ideal must have the gift of tongues and kingly words to\nutter kingly thoughts. In the philosophy of Alexandria it was held, that\nbefore the world was, the word was, and the word created a universe out\nof chaos and the word was divine. With that heaven-born energy must he\nbe filled, and with a breath of that creative speech must he inspire.\nNo tawdry eloquence be his, no glittering gift of phrase or fantasy, but\nwords of the soul's own language, words of the pith and core of truth.\n\nThe image of the Ideal priest which I have attempted to draw is itself\nan ideal image, nowhere realized, never to be fully attained. But it\nis to it that the priests of the new age will strive to come near and\nnearer, and that will be their pride and their happiness, if they can\nbecome in this sense friends and helpers of their kind.\n\nIn the eyes of the dogmatist they are strangers out of a strange land of\nthought. If you ask them for their pass word, it is freedom, if you ask\nfor their creed, it is boundless. The multitude seeking to compress\nthe infinite within the narrow limits of the senses, must needs have\ntangible shapes to lay hands on, names if nothing better. But the Ideal\nin the highest is void of form and its name unutterable. We will ascend\non the wings of the morning, we will let ourselves down to the uttermost\ndepths of the sea, and know it there. But chiefly within ourselves shall\nwe seek it, in ourselves is its shrine. The time will come when single\nmen shall no more be needed to do its ministry, when in the brotherhood\nand sisterhood of mankind all shall be priests and priestesses one to\nanother, for all their life shall be a song of praise to the highest,\nand their whole being shall be consecrated and glorified in the immortal\nservice of deathless Ideals.\n\n\n\n\nV. THE FORM OF THE NEW IDEAL\n\n\n\n\nA NEW ORDER.\n\nI AM aware that there exists a deep seated prejudice in the minds of\nmany of my hearers against what are called the forms of religion. We\nhave too long experienced their limitations and restraints, not to be\njealous now of our hard won liberties. But let us ask ourselves what\nit is that alienates our sympathies from the ritual and ceremonial\nobservances of the dominant creeds? Is it the forms as such? Is it not\nrather the fact that to us they have become dead forms: that they no\nlonger appeal to our sentiments, that they fail to stir, to invigorate,\nto ennoble us? We have not cast them aside lightly. Often have we\nentered the house of worship, prepared to be drawn back into the\ninfluence of its once familiar surroundings: we beheld again the great\nassembly, we heard the solemn music, we listened to the preacher as he\nstrove to impress upon a silent multitude, the lessons of the higher\nlife. But in the prayers we could not join, and the words to which\nthe music moved we could not sing, and the maxims of the preacher were\ncouched in language, and enforced with doctrinal arguments that touched\nno chord in our hearts. We left disappointed, we had received no help:\nif this were religion, we felt ourselves more distant from religion than\never before.\n\nOn the banks of the Euphrates there flourished of old an extensive\ncolony of Jews. A \"Prince of the Captivity\" revived the memory of the\nvanished glory of King David's house. High schools were erected that\nafforded a common centre to the scattered members of the Jewish Faith.\nIn these the people beheld at once their bond of connection with the\npast, and the pledge of future restoration to their patrimony. In the\nearly part of the middle ages, a prayer for the health and prosperity of\nthe presidents of the high schools was inserted into the liturgy. Well\nnigh eight hundred years have elapsed since these dignitaries, and\nthe schools themselves, have ceased to exist, yet the prayer is still\nretained, and may be heard repeated on any Sabbath in the synagogues of\nthe orthodox--a prayer for the health of the Prince and the high schools\non the Euphrates that vanished from the face of the earth eight hundred\nyears ago. Thus do religious forms continue to maintain themselves long\nafter their vitality is perished and their very meaning is forgotten.\nBut if the prevalent forms have ceased to satisfy us, can we therefore\ndispense with form altogether? If the house that has given us shelter is\nin ruins, shall we therefore live in the woods and fields, or shall we\nnot rather erect a new mansion on a broader foundation, and with firmer\nwalls? It has been the bane of liberalism, that it was simply critical\nand not constructive. Your thought must have not wings only, but hands\nand feet to walk and work, to form and reform. Liberalism must have its\norgans, must enter the race with its rivals; must not criticise only,\nbut do better. Liberalism must pass the stage of individualism, must\nbecome the soul of great combinations. What then shall be the form\nadequate to express the new Ideal?\n\nThe form of any religion is the image of its ideal. To illustrate what\nthis means, let us consider for a moment the origin of the synagogue and\nthe church.\n\nThe orthodox opinion that Judaism was revealed to Moses fourteen hundred\nyears B. C. is condemned by modern critics of the Bible. The following\nare some of the considerations that have influenced their verdict.\nFirst, we read in scripture that so late as the reign of David, idolatry\nwas still rampant among the Hebrews, and the attempt to explain this\nfact upon the theory of a relapse, is contrary to the testimony of the\nBible itself.\n\nSecondly: The name of Moses is unknown to the prophets, his ostensible\nsuccessors, a circumstance which would remain inexplicable if Moses had\nindeed been the founder of monotheism.\n\nThirdly: Large portions of the Pentateuch were probably not composed\nbefore the sixth or fifth century B. C, that is to say about a thousand\nyears after the time of Moses. The account they give of the early\nhistory of the people is therefore open to serious and just doubt. The\nprophets were the real authors of monotheism. The priestly code of the\nPentateuch does not represent the form of Judaism which they taught.\nThey are not chargeable with the technicalities and dry formalism of the\n\"Books of Moses.\" They were the avowed enemies of the priesthood and for\na long time engaged in fierce struggles with the ruling hierarchy. Their\ndoctrines were in the essence these: That there is a Creator, that he\nis just and merciful, that the same qualities in man are the most\nacceptable species of divine service, that God directs all events,\nwhether great or small; and that it is the duty of man to accept the\nguidance of the Deity, and to follow with tireless diligence the clews\nof the Divine Will. Jehovah is to be reverenced not only as a spiritual,\nbut also as a temporal sovereign, and the prophets are his ministers\ncommissioned to transmit his decrees to men. Thus Monotheism found\nexpression in the form of Theocratic government. It is true the heathen\nworld was not yet prepared to enter into so near a relationship with the\nCreator. On this account the Jews were selected to be a typical people,\nand the Kingdom of God was for the time being confined to them. It\nis evident from the above that the order of the prophets was the very\nmainstay of the Theocratic fabric. When these inspired messengers\nceased to appear, the conclusion was drawn that the Will of God had been\nfully revealed. The writings of the prophets were then collected into\nsacred books, and were regarded as the constitution of the divine\nempire. When Jerusalem was destroyed, the sacrifices were discontinued\nand Judaism was purged of many heathenish elements which had been\nallowed to mar the simplicity of the prophetic religion. The synagogue\ntook the place of the Temple, and an intricate code of ceremonies was\ngradually elaborated, intended to remind the pious Jew at all hours and\nseasons of his duties toward God, and the peculiar mission accorded to\nhis people. The synagogue was a single prominent peak in the range\nof the religious life, a rallying point for the members of the Jewish\ncommunity, a meeting house where they assembled to confirm their\nallegiance to their heavenly King.\n\nNow the cardinal point of difference between primitive Christianity and\nJudaism related to the alleged abrogation of the ancient constitution\nset forth in the old Testament. Christianity said: The Messiah has come;\nthe law of Moses is fulfilled; the King has issued a new constitution,\nand sent his own Son to put it in force. The time has arrived when the\nKingdom of God need no longer be restricted to a single people. Jesus\nwho perished on the cross will presently return, and the universal\ntheocracy will then be proclaimed. But Jesus did not return, his\nfollowers waited long and patiently, but they waited in vain. As time\nrolled on, they learned to dwell less upon the expected Millennium on\nearth, and to defer the fulfilment of their hopes to the life beyond the\ngrave. In the interval they perfected the organization of the church.\nThe Christian Ideal of the Kingdom of Heaven is that of a communion of\nall saints under the sovereignty of God through Christ. The Christian\nChurch is designed to be an image of this Ideal, a communion of saintly\nmen on earth, accepting Christ as their Master. Christianity aspired to\nbe the universal religion; there should be no barriers any more between\nman and man; the exclusiveness of ancient Judaism should be broken down;\nyet withal the barriers of a new creed soon arose in place of the old;\nthe portals of the Kingdom of Heaven were rigidly closed against all who\nrefused to bow to the despotism of dogma; and the virtues of pagans were\ndeclared to be shining vices. The moral teachings of Christ are gentle\nand kindly, but in the doctrinal contentions of the Christians the\nspirit of the Master was forgotten, and the earth was deluged with\nblood. And now the new Ideal differs from Christianity in this, that it\nseeks to approach the goal of a Kingdom of Heaven upon earth, not by the\nmiraculous interference of the Deity, but by the laborious exertions\nof men, and the slow but certain progress of successive generations. We\nhave named the form of religion an image of the Ideal, yet an image poor\nand incomplete at best, rather a symbol, a suggestion of what can never\nbe realized. In the realm of art we do not find the soul of beauty in\nthe colored canvas or the marble statue; these are helpful hieroglyphics\nonly, teaching those that can read their mute language to create anew\nthe ideal as it lived in the artist's soul, in the divine hour of\nconception. Thus all form has its value only in what it suggests. Our\nIdeal is that of the fellowship of humanity in highest wisdom, highest\ntruth and highest love. The form of this ideal therefore can be none\nother than a new fellowship united by the higher truths and purer love\nthat make its bond to be a symbol of the highest! We are weary of the\nunreal and untrue existence we are forced to lead; we are weary of the\nemptiness of routine, weary of the false coin of reputation that passes\ncurrent in the market of vanity fair; we are weary of the low standards\nby which actions are judged, and to which, to our dismay, we perceive\nour actions insensibly conform. But the pressure of social influences\nabout us is enormous, and no single arm can resist it. We must needs\nband together then, if we would achieve a higher life; we must create\nfor ourselves a purer atmosphere, if any rarer virtues are to flourish\nin our midst; we must make our own public opinion, to buoy us up in\nevery loftier aspiration. Unions we want that will hold, not religion\nas a duty, but duty as a religion; union to achieve a larger morality.\nThree things morality demands of us as interpreted in the light of our\npresent social conditions: greater simplicity in manners, greater purity\nin the passions, greater charity. The habit of luxurious living\nis eating into the vitals of society, is defiling the family, and\ncorrupting the state. Let me not be falsely understood. All that is\nluxury which political economists are wont to class as unproductive\nconsumption. In this sense, books, music and pictures are luxuries, and\nwho would be willing to forego them. It becomes us to the utmost of our\npowers to satisfy the thirst for knowledge, and to educate the sense of\nharmony: it is wise to expend generously upon every means of culture and\nrefinement. But this we must bear in mind, that there should be a rank\nand a proper subordination among our tastes and desires. Now that is\nluxury in the evil, in the debasing sense of the term, that we subvert\nthe natural order of our tastes, that we make the mere gratification of\nthe animal passions, the mere pursuit of wealth, the mere adornment of\nour clay, main objects, while the graces of intellect perish, and the\nadornment of the soul is neglected. Say not, we will do the one, and not\nleave undone the other; for the inordinate degree to which the meaner\npassions are developed, dulls our sense of loftier needs. We cannot\nserve these two masters. Frivolous in prosperity, we become helpless in\nadversity and perish inwardly, our growth stunted, our nobler sympathies\nblunted, long before we are bedded in our graves. What single effort can\nachieve a change? Fellowship, friends are needed, and a public opinion\non behalf of simplicity.\n\nAnd purity in the passions is needed. An ugly sore is here concealed,\na skeleton in the closet of which men speak with bated breath. Is there\nnot such a thing as sanctity of the person! Did you not rebel against\nhuman slavery because you said it was wrong that any being born in\nthe image of man should be the tool of another? And no arguments could\ndeceive you--not if the slave offered himself willingly to the yoke, and\nrejoiced in his bondage. You dared not so sin against human nature, and\naccept that offer. And yet New York has its slaves, Boston its slaves,\nand every large town on the face of the wide earth has this sinful,\noutcast army of slaves--tools, whom we have robbed of that which no\nhuman being has a right to barter, the right to virtue at least, if not\nto happiness. Call not that a law of nature, which is the lawlessness of\nnature! Say not, it has ever been thus, and ever shall be! From depths\nof vice which the imagination dare not recall, humanity has slowly risen\nto its present level, and higher and higher will it take its course when\nthe conscience is quickened and true love expands. Fellowship is needed\nto support this difficult virtue and a public opinion on behalf of\npurity.\n\nAnd charity, friends; not that which we commonly called charity; but\ncharity that prevents rather than cures. You pass through the lower\nquarters of our city, you see the misery, the filth, the gaunt, grim\npoverty, the careworn faces, the candidates for starvation. Starvation!\nwhoever hears of it? The newspapers rarely speak of it; here or there an\nexceptional case. Nay truly, these people do not starve; they die of a\ncold perhaps; the small-pox came and carried them off: diphtheria\nmakes its ravage among them. Ah, but was it not want that sapped their\nstrength, and made them powerless to resist disease? Was it not their\nlife of pinched pauperism that ripened them for the reaper's scythe?\nThen pass from these sorrowful sights to our stately Avenue. Behold\nthe gay world of fashion, its painted pomp, its gilded sinfulness, its\nheartless extravagance. Is not this an intolerable contrast? Shall we\nrest quiet under the talk of irremediable evils? Is it not true\nthat something must be done, and can be done because it must? The\ndistribution of wealth they say, is governed by economic laws, and\nsentiment has no right to be considered in affairs of business. But\nwhere I pray you is the sentiment of brotherly love considered as it\nshould be? Educate the masses! But do we educate them? Stimulate their\nself-respect and teach them self-help! But what large or effective\nmeasures are we taking to this most desirable end? You cannot help,\ngood friend, nor I. But a dozen might aid somewhat, and a thousand brave\nunselfish hearts knit together for such a purpose, who shall say what\nmighty changes they could work. Surely fellowship is needed here, and a\npublic opinion on behalf of charity.\n\nThe \"fine phrase,\" humanity has pregnant meanings. They stand for the\ngrandest, the sternest realities of the times. Purity, charity and\nsimplicity, these shall be the watchwords of a new fellowship, which\nshall practice the teachings of humanity, that are vain as the empty\nwind, if heard only and approved, but not made actual in our deeds.\n\nAnd yet some will smile incredulously and ask, where are the men and\nwomen prepared to undertake such a task? It is true, we must begin at\nthe beginning. From earliest childhood the young must be trained on\na nobler method, and in the ethical school lies the main work of\npreparation. There every step in the course of development must be\ncarefully considered, vigilantly watched and wisely directed, to the\none crowning purpose of ripening the young minds and hearts for that\nfellowship of love and hope.\n\nA new fellowship, a new order, I say boldly, whose members shall not be\nbound by any vows, which shall have no convents, no mysteries, but shall\nmake itself an exemplar of the virtues it preaches, a form of the ideal.\nThe perils that attend such organizations are great; we will not attempt\nto underrate their gravity, but we believe they can be overcome. The\nspirit of co-operation lends mighty momentum to every cause; it depends\nupon the cause itself whether the influence exerted shall be for good or\nevil. And there has been in history a single order at least of the kind\nwhich I describe: \"The brotherhood of the common life,\" it was called;\nan order composed of earnest, studious men, to whom the upheaval of\nEurope in the sixteenth century was largely due; a noble brotherhood\nthat prepared the way for the great Reformation. The Catholic orders are\ndedicated to the world to come; the order of the Ideal will be dedicated\nto the world of the living: to deepen and broaden the conscience of men\nwill be its mission.\n\nThe propaganda of Liberalism in the past has been weak and barren of\ngreat results. Strong personalities it has brought forth; around these\nsocieties have clustered and fallen asunder when the personal magnet was\nwithdrawn. What we need is institutions of which persons shall be merely\nthe exponents; institutions that must be grounded on the needs of the\npresent, and that shall last by their own vitality, to future ages and\nto the increase of future good.\n\nIt is the opening of the spring.* After its long winter sleep, the earth\nreawakens, and amid the fierce storms of the Equinox nature ushers in\nthe season of flowers and of summer's golden plenty. It is the day of\nEaster. Loudly the bells are pealing and joyous songs celebrate in the\nlegend of \"Christ risen from the grave,\" the marvel of the Resurrection.\nWhat we cannot credit of an individual, is true of the nations. After\nlong periods of seeming torpor and death, humanity ever arises anew from\nthe dust, shakes off its slumbers, and clothes itself with fresher vigor\nand diviner powers.\n\n     * The above discourse was delivered on Easter Sunday, April\n     1st.\n\nLet the hope of the season animate us. Let it fill our souls with\nconfidence in our greater destinies; let it teach us to trust in them\nand to labor for them, that a new Ideal may vivify the palsied hearts\nand a new spring tide come, and a new Easter dawn arise over all\nmankind.\n\n\n\n\nVI. THE RELIGIOUS CONSERVATISM OF WOMEN.\n\nNo thoughtful person can fail to appreciate the enormous influence which\nwomen are constantly exercising for good and evil upon the destinies\nof the world. The charms and graces of existence, whatever ennobles and\nembellishes life, we owe mainly to them. They are the natural guardians\nof morality, and from age to age the mothers of households have\npreserved the sacred fire on the domestic hearth, whereat every virtue\nis kindled. But they have also been the most formidable enemies of\nprogress. Their conservatism is usually of the most unreasoning kind,\nand the tenacity with which they cling to favorite prejudices is\nrarely overcome either by argument or appeal. They have been from\ntime immemorial the dupes, the tools, and the most effective allies of\npriestcraft. Their hostility to the cause of Reform has been so fatal,\nnot only because of the direct influence of their actions, but because\nof that subtle power which they exert so skilfully over the minds of\nhusbands, brothers and friends, by the arts of remonstrance, entreaty\nand the contagion of their feeble alarms. The question whether their\nhostility can be turned into friendship, is one of momentous importance\nfor the leaders of the Liberal movement to consider.\n\nIn the following we shall endeavor to make plain that the subordinate\nposition hitherto assigned to women, is the principal cause that has\nimpelled them to take sides against religious progress.\n\nAmong the primitive races woman was reduced to a condition of abject\nslavery. Affection of the deeper kind was unknown. The wife was robbed\nor purchased from her relations; was treated as a menial by her husband,\nand often exposed to the most brutal abuse. As civilization advanced,\nthe marriage bond became more firm, and common interest in the offspring\nof the union served to create common sympathies. Among the Greeks, the\nideal of domestic life was pure and elevated. The tales of Andromache,\nPenelope and Alcestes illustrate the strength of conjugal fidelity and\nthe touching pathos of love that outlasts death. The Grecian home was\nfenced about with scrupulous care and strictest privacy protected its\ninmates from temptation. It was the duty of the wife to superintend\nthe internal economy of the household, to spin and weave, to direct the\nslaves in their various occupations, to nurse them when sick, to\nwatch over the young children, and chiefly to insure the comfort and\nsatisfaction of her lord. His cares and ambitions indeed she hardly\nshared. She never aspired to be his equal, and simple obedience to\nhis wishes was the supreme virtue impressed upon her by education, and\nenforced by habit. Among the Romans, the character of the matron is\ndescribed in the most laudatory and reverential terms. Still the laws\nof the Republic made woman practically the bondswoman of man. It is\nwell-known that our English word family is derived from the Latin\nwhere it originally means the household of slaves. The matron too, was\ncounted, at least theoretically, among these slaves, and the right of\ndeciding her fate literally for life or death, belonged exclusively to\nher husband. It is true in the cordial intimacy of the monogamic bond,\nthe austerity of usage, and the harshness of the laws are often tempered\nby affection and mutual respect; yet we are aptly reminded by a modern\nwriter on this subject, that the law which remains a dead letter to\nthe refined and cultivated becomes the instrument of the most heartless\noppression in the hands of the vulgar and the passionate.\n\nAmong the Hebrews, a position of great dignity and consequence was\nsometimes accorded to their women. The wives of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob\nplayed an important part in directing the affairs of the Patriarchal\nhouseholds. A woman performed the functions of judge and leader of\narmies, women sat upon the throne, prophetesses were consulted in grave\nmatters of the State and of religion; in the absence of sons, the\nMosaic law guarantees to daughters the right of succession to the family\nestate. The later writings of the Jews are likewise replete with noble\nsentiments touching the sanctity of the conjugal tie. Many of the\nordinances of the Talmud depend upon women for their execution, and this\ncircumstance alone must have contributed to raise them in the popular\nestimation. In every marriage contract a certain sum was set apart for\nthe wife, in case of her husband's death or of divorce. Still the right\nof dissolving the matrimonial connection belonged exclusively to the\nhusband, although under certain conditions he could be forced by the\ncourt to issue the \"writ of separation.\" However the wife might be\nhonored and loved, she was ever regarded as man's inferior.\n\nThe influence of Christianity upon the position of women, was twofold,\nand in opposite directions. On the one hand women had been among\nthe first and most devoted followers of Jesus; women were largely\ninstrumental in effecting the conversion of the Roman Empire, and in the\nlist of martyrs, their names shine preeminent. On the other hand, the\nchurch in the early centuries cast an unpardonable slur on the\nmarriage relation. We read of young maidens fleeing the society of dear\ncompanions and friends, to escape the temptation of the affections, of\nfaithful wives, filled with inexpressible loathing at a connection which\nthey deemed contrary to the dictates of religion, and deserting husbands\nand children. The desire of love was poisoned with a sense of guilt. The\ncelibacy of the clergy, finally enforced by Pope Hildebrand, gave rise\nto the most shocking irregularities. All this tended to degrade the\nfemale sex.\n\nAt the time of the crusades a partial revulsion of feeling took place.\nThe spirit of chivalry entered the church, the character of woman was\ntransfigured, and the worship of the Virgin Mary spread in consequence\nthroughout Europe. A change in the education of girls was one of the\nresults of the rise of Chivalry. Music and poetry became its chief\nelements; women were fed on intellectual sweetmeats, but strong and\nhealthy nourishment was still denied them.\n\nIn all the different stages of progress which we have thus rapidly\nscanned, the assumption of man's superiority to woman was held as an\nincontestible article of belief, and even the chivalric ideal is only a\nmore amiable and disguised expression of the same view.\n\nWhat effect the disabilities under which they labored must have had upon\nthe religious life of women will readily be perceived. There are two\nattitudes of mind peculiarly favorable to orthodoxy; the one a tendency\nto lean on authority, the other a disposition to give free sway to the\nfeelings without submitting them to the checks of reason. Now it is\nplain that the condition of dependence to which society has condemned\nwoman is calculated to develop these very qualities to an abnormal\ndegree. From early childhood she receives commands and is taught to\ndistrust her own judgment. When she enters the bonds of matrimony she\nbecomes dependent on her husband for support, and in the vast majority\nof cases, his riper judgment shames her inexperience. In all graver\nmatters she must perforce defer to his decision. Accustomed to rely on\nauthority, is it surprising that in matters of religion, where even\nmen confess their ignorance, she should rejoice in the authority of the\npriest, whose directions relieve her of doubt and supply a ready channel\nfor her thoughts and acts. Again the feelings are her natural weapons,\nshall she not trust them! The stability and security of society are the\nconditions on which her dearest hopes depend for their realization. Can\nshe welcome the struggles of innovation. All her feelings cluster about\nthe religious traditions of the past; all a woman's heart pleads for\ntheir maintenance.\n\nNow to confine the feelings of woman within their proper bounds, it is\nnecessary to give wider scope, and a more generous cultivation to her\nintellect; in brief to allow her the same freedom of development as is\nuniversally accorded to man. Freedom makes strong, and the confidence of\nothers generates an independent and self-reliant spirit in ourselves. It\nis indeed often urged that woman is by nature the inferior of man. But\nthe appeal to physiology seems to be at least premature; the relation of\nthe size of the brain to intellectual capacity being by no means clearly\ndetermined; while the appeal to history is, if possible, even more\ntreacherous, because it cites the evils engendered by an ancient and\nlong continued system of oppression in favor of the system itself.\nCounting all the disadvantages against which woman has been forced\nto contend, and which have hampered her every effort to elevate her\ncondition, it is truly marvelous, not that she has done so little, but\nthat she has accomplished that which she has. Even in the difficult art\nof government she has earned well merited distinction, and women are\nnamed among the wisest and most beneficent rulers of ancient and modern\ntimes.* What the possibilities of woman's nature may be, no one can\ntell; least of all she herself. As it is she is credited with a superior\npower of intuition, a readier insight into character, a more complete\nmastery of details. What larger powers now latent a broader culture will\nbring to light, remains for the future to show.\n\n     * J. S. Mill, The Subjection of Women, p. 100.\n\nBut we are told that the sphere of woman's work is in the home, and that\nproperly to perform her vocation there, she does not need the vigorous\ntraining required for men. That woman's mission ought to be and happily\nis in the majority of cases in the home, no one will gainsay. At the\nsame time, we should not close our eyes to patent facts, facts such as\nthese; that the number of women whose mission actually does not lie in\nthe home, is exceedingly great; that according to the last census of the\nUnited States, for instance, the female population of the State of New\nYork, is fifty-six thousand in excess of the male; that well nigh two\nmillions of women in this country are engaged in working for their\nlivelihood. Is it not cruel mockery to say to these women that their\nbusiness is in the household? If the condition of things is such that\nthey must seek outside labor; if we permit them to toil by hundreds of\nthousands in the fields and factories, on what plea of right or reason\ncan we deny them admission to the higher grades of service? Is it not\nsimple justice to admit them to all the professions, and to allow them\nthe same advantages in colleges and professional schools as are enjoyed\nby men?\n\nWe need not fear that the privilege will be abused. If women undertake\nto engage in pursuits for which they are physically or mentally unfit,\nthe effect of competition will quickly discourage them, and here as\nelsewhere, only the fittest will survive.\n\nBut aside from those who are destined to remain single, and considering\nthe seven millions of women, or more, who will become wives and mothers\nof families; is not the demand for higher education equally imperative\nin their case? Young girls are but too often educated to be the\nagreeable companions, rather than the partners of their future husbands.\nThey receive sufficient instruction to give them a general acquaintance\nwith the surface of things, but not sufficient to develop what ought to\nbe the chief end of every scheme of education--a permanent intellectual\ninterest in any one direction. Much time is wasted on minor\naccomplishments. At an age when the young girl is still totally\nimmature, she is often withdrawn from the influence of her preceptors,\nand hurried from dissipation to dissipation, to tread the round of\nsociety's gayeties, and to inhale the poisonous atmosphere of flattery\nand conventional falsehoods. She enters a new world. The contrast\nbetween the restraints of school life, and her novel sense of\nconsequence intoxicates her; the desire for pleasure becomes a passion;\nthe books of useful information, that never possessed a real charm for\nher, are cast aside, and the literature of the sentiments alone retains\nits attractions during the remainder of life. It is not astonishing\nthat those whose minds are thus left barren, should employ their leisure\nhours in frivolous or vicious occupations; that an exorbitant luxury,\nthe sign at all times, of deficient culture, should have infected the\ncommunity. It is not wonderful that when the trials of life approach,\nthese women grasp wildly at the nearest superstition, and prostrate\nthemselves before any idol of the vulgar, in their blind ignorance and\ncredulity.\n\nI have said that higher education can alone make marriage what it ought\nto be, for it is not fancy or the glow of passion that can bind the\nhearts together in lasting wedlock. The marriage bond has deeper\nmeanings. Two souls are united, each to be all in all to each. Here\nshall be the very consummation of love; love, that precious boon that\nassuages every pang, and stills every grief, and triumphs over sickness,\nsorrow, and the tomb. All nature's symbols fail to express its fulness;\nit has the hope of the dawning day; it has the tender pathos of the\nlight of the moon; it has the melody of birds, the mystic stillness\nof the forest, the infinity of the fathomless sea! Bounteous love,\nhow inexhaustible are its treasures! The fires of the passions kindle\naffection, but cannot secure it. If there be only the stubble of desire\nin the heart, that will quickly be consumed; if there be veins of true\ngold there, that will be melted and refined. Years pass, youth fades,\nthe attendant train of the graces vanishes, loveliness falls like a\nmask, but the union only becomes firmer and trustier, because it is a\nunion, not of the sentiments merely, but of the souls. The wife becomes\nthe true sharer of her husband's thoughts; mutual confidence reigns\nbetween them; they grow by mutual furtherance; each sees in each the\nmirror of his nobler self; they are the true complement one to the\nother. Who does not know that such unions are rare! Common sympathies,\ncommon duties do indeed create a tolerable understanding in most\nhouseholds; but that is not wedlock that men and women should jog on\ntolerably well together for the better part of a lifetime.\n\nThe modern mind is constantly broadening; new facts, new discoveries are\nconstantly coming to light, and loftier problems engage the attention\nof thinkers. If woman would not be utterly left behind in the race, then\nmust she make an effort to acquire more solid knowledge, and educational\nreform is the first step in the cause of woman's emancipation. The\nelectoral franchise, and whatever other measures may be included in\nthe popular phrase of \"Woman's rights\" should be reserved for future\ndiscussion. If practicable at all, they are assuredly for the present of\nsecondary importance.\n\nPermit me to close by briefly formulating a few points that seem to me\nto deserve special consideration in this connection.\n\nWoman, like man, should comprehend the age in which she lives and the\ngreat questions by which it is agitated. To this end a knowledge of\nhistory, and chiefly the history of her own nation, is requisite. She\nshould learn to understand the principles of the language she speaks,\nand the literature in which it is preserved, not from dry text-books,\nbut from the living works of the authors themselves. She should be able\nto pass an intelligent judgment upon the political issues of the day,\nthat take up so large a share of men's conversation, and to this end\nthe rudiments of political science might profitably be taught her.\nShe should possess sufficient familiarity with the natural sciences to\ncomprehend at least the main results of scientific investigations, and\na training of this kind would have the further advantage of accustoming\nher mind to the methods of accurate thinking. She should gain some\nknowledge of the human body and of the laws upon which its health\ndepends. Is it not strange that this important branch of knowledge is\nso generally neglected in the training of those who are to be mothers of\nthe future generation? How often would proper attention to a few simple\nrules of hygiene prevent sickness; how often would more efficient\nnursing avert death, where it is now freely allowed to enter. Then too\nthe outlines of pedagogy should be included in a course of advanced\ninstruction for women. Mothers are the educators of the children, but\nthe educators themselves require to be educated.\n\nIf the intellect of girls were braced and stimulated in this manner,\nthey would exhibit greater self-possession and self-reliance in their\nlater lives; they would be less apt to be deluded by false appeals to\nthe feelings: \"the woman's view\" would be no longer proverbial for the\nweaker view; the whole of society would feel the beneficent change, and\nthe problem which we set out to discuss in the beginning would in due\ntime solve itself.\n\nWe do not for a moment apprehend that the increased cultivation of\nthe intellect would entail any loss of sweetness or of those gracious\nqualities that make the charm of womanhood. Wherever such a result has\nbeen apparently observed, it is safe to ascribe it to other causes.\nTruth and beauty are far too closely akin in their inmost nature to\nexclude each other. Nor do we fear that the intensity of moral feeling,\nfor which women are distinguished, would suffer under the restraining\ninfluence of reason's guidance. The moral feelings would indeed be\npurified, elevated and directed to their proper objects by the judicious\nuse of reason; they would not therefore be enfeebled. In the past,\nthe conservatism of women has been a mighty obstacle in the path\nof progress. It is but just to add that at the dawn of every great\nreligious movement which promised the moral advancement of the race,\ngifted women, rising above the weakness of their sisters, have been\namong the earliest to welcome the new hope for humanity; have been among\nthe most ardent, the most self-sacrificing of its disciples. The Liberal\nmovement of our day also is essentially a movement for larger morality,\nand more and more as this feature will be clearly developed, may it hope\nto gain the sympathies of brave and good women to its side. In their\nsupport it will behold at once the criterion of its worthiness, and the\nsurest pledge of its ultimate triumph.\n\n\n\n\nVII. OUR CONSOLATIONS\n\n     {A discourse delivered on Sunday, April 29, 1877.}\n\nWe go out in these balmy days of spring into the reviving fields, and\nthe eye drinks in with delight the fresh and succulent green of the\nmeadows; the willows begin to put forth their verdant foliage, the\nbrooks purl and babble of the new life that has waked in the forest:\nbe glad, all nature cries, summer is coming. And the freshness of the\nseason enters into our own hearts, our pulses beat more quickly, our\nstep is more buoyant. We remember all that is joyful in existence; the\narts that embellish, the aspirations that ennoble, the affections that\nendear it. Golden the future lies before us; our very cares lose their\nsombre hues; like the golden islands of cloud that glow in the glory of\nsunset skies.\n\nBut beneath the fair semblance of nature that for a time deludes our\nsenses, a dark and terrible reality is concealed. Observe how pitilessly\nthe destructive elements pursue their path, the earthquake the tornado,\nthe epidemic. A few months ago a rise of the sea swept away two hundred\nthousand human lives in the course of a few hours. Myriads of sentient\nbeings are daily cast up in the summer to perish with the first breath\nof cold. In the animal world, the strong feed upon the weak, and the\nremorseless struggle for existence extends even into the sphere of human\nactivity. At this very moment the whole of Europe is filled with\nanxious alarm in view of an impending war of conquest. While industry\nis paralyzed, while trade is at a stand-still, while a virulent disease\ngenerated by starvation has broken out in Silesia, and the workmen\nof Lyons have become dependent on the public charity of France, the\nresources of nations, already well nigh exhausted, are drained to\nprepare for the emergencies of conflict. With a secret thrill of terror\nwe read that beds for the wounded and millions of roubles for hospital\nappliances are being voted by the municipalities of Russia. Readily the\nimagination can picture to itself what these ghastly preparations mean.\nIt is true, so long as all is well with us, the larger evils of the\nworld do not greatly disturb our equanimity. Man has the happy faculty\nof abstracting his attention from things remote. The accumulated woes of\na continent affect us less than some trifling accident in our immediate\nvicinity. But when the messengers of evil have cast their shadows across\nour threshold, when calamity has laid its heavy hand upon our shoulder,\nit is then that the general unsatisfactoriness of life recurs to us with\nadded force in view of our own experience; the splendor fades from the\nsurrounding scene; every dark stain takes on a deeper blackness, and the\ngloom that comes from within fills and obscures the entire field of our\nvision. We have sustained financial loss, perhaps we are harrowed by\ndomestic discord, we are suddenly stricken in the midst of health, and\ndrag on long years as hopeless invalids, or worse still, we stand at the\nbedside of some dear friend or kinsman, see him stretched upon the rack\nof pain, and can do nothing to alleviate his sufferings; we see the end\nslowly nearing; but oh, the weary waiting, the patient's agonizing cry\nfor death, the cruel struggle that must still intervene. And when at\nlast, it is over, and we have laid him away under the sod, and returned\nto our desolate homes, what hope remains! Whither now, we ask, shall we\nturn for consolation? Is there no outlook from this night of trouble? Is\nthere no winged thought, that will bear us upward from out the depths;\nis there no solace to assuage our pangs?\n\nAmong the means of consolation commonly recommended the doctrine of\nImmortality seems to be regarded as the most appropriate and effective.\nIt is needless to lament; the deceased has entered a better life. Yet a\nlittle and you will join him to be no more parted. Nor can we deny that\nto those who cordially entertain it, the belief in the soul's\nimmortal continuance becomes a source of pure and inexpressibly tender\nsatisfaction. But with a certain class of minds--and their number, I\nbelieve, is on the increase--the consoling influence of this doctrine is\nmarred by the fatal uncertainty in which the whole question is involved,\nand which no efforts of man have ever yet, nor ever will, avail to\nremove. Christianity indeed claims to have settled the point. The Deity\nhimself, it avers, intervened by direct revelation from on high, to set\nour doubts at rest, and Jesus when he arose on the third day forever\ndeprived the grave of its sting and took away our fears of the tomb. But\nto those who read the books of revelations with unbiased mind, the fact\nof their human authorship becomes sadly apparent, and the resurrection\nitself is as difficult to prove as the doctrine which it is designed to\nsubstantiate.\n\nIn modern times spiritualism has likewise endeavored to demonstrate to\nthe senses the existence of a world of souls beyond our own. But\nthe phenomena on which it lies are in part disputed, in part the\ninterpretation put upon them, must, to say the least, be regarded as\npremature.\n\nMoreover we should remember that even if by some unknown means the fact\nof immortality could be established, the question of our re-union with\nfriends in the hereafter, in which alone the heart of the mourner is\ninterested, would still remain an open one and might be answered in the\nnegative. The belief in immortality has been held in this way by some of\nthe greatest intellects of the human race, Spinoza among the rest. If we\nknew that we shall continue to live, we should not therefore know how\nwe shall continue to live. Perhaps it might prove that all our previous\nconnections would be severed; and who can tell what new phases of\nexistence, what endless metamorphoses might await us among the infinite\npossibilities of Eternity.\n\nSo deep seated is the sense of uncertainty concerning our fate beyond\nthe tomb, that no religion, however great the control which it exerted\nover men, has ever been able to banish it entirely from their hearts.\nThe most ardent Christian is hardly less anxious than the infidel to\nretain those who are dear to him in life. He prays as fervently for\ntheir health as though their present state were the sum total of their\nexistence. And yet he should rather hail the day of death as a day of\nthanksgiving, and rejoice that those whom he loves have been translated\nto a sphere every way so much more desirable than our own. No, the\nnatural feeling cannot be suppressed, loss is felt to be loss, and death\nremains death. No hope of a happier condition in the world to come, no\nconfidence in the promises and prophesies of faith, can efface the sense\nof present bereavement, and as we all alike feel it, so are we all,\nbelievers and unbelievers, interested in seeking the means of its\npresent relief.\n\nSome of the most fervid, religious natures of the past endeavored to\nescape the sorrows of the world by having recourse to the cruel remedy\nof asceticism. The ascetic ponders the origin of suffering; he sees\nthat the desire for pleasure is the cause of pain. Were we not eager to\npossess we should not regret to lose. He cuts the gordian knot saying,\nabjure desire! When you cease to want, you shall no longer be bruised.\nThere are certain wants inherent in the body--the want of food,\ndrink, sleep; the heart has its needs--friendship, sympathy; the\nmind--knowledge, culture. All these should be subdued. We should eat\nand drink the coarsest in quality and the least possible in quantity; we\nshould avoid the attachments of love; we should be poor in spirit, and\ndespise wisdom. The ascetic ideal took firm root in Christianity at an\nearly period of its history. The extravagance of the Egyptian anchorites\nis well known. The \"pillar saint,\" St. Simeon, who is said to have\npassed some thirty years of his life on the summit of a column twenty\nyards in height, taking only the scantiest nourishment, eschewing\nablutions, covered with filth and sores, was worshipped as a holy man by\nthe multitude and his example was followed by others, though with less\nrigor, during a period of nearly a thousand years. Among the Hindoos,\ntoo, the ascetic ideal acquired a baneful ascendency. We can hardly\ncredit the tales that have come to us concerning the insane fanaticism\nwhich raged amongst this people. To what tortures of body and soul did\nthey subject themselves, what cruel ordeals did they invent in order to\nsteel themselves against the inevitable sufferings of life. It was their\nbeau-ideal to achieve a state bordering upon absolute unconsciousness,\nin which the power of sensation might be entirely blunted, and even the\nexistence of the physical man be forgotten.\n\nThis, indeed, is a capital remedy, a species of heroic treatment that\nattains its end. Man becomes passive in pain, incapable of sorrow,\nunmoved by any loss. But with the pains, the joys of existence have\nlikewise fled. The human being walks as a shadow among shadows, a\nsoulless substance, the wretched semblance of his former self. Who would\nnot rather bear the heaviest ills that flesh is heir to, than purchase\nhis release at such a cost.\n\nAnd now in setting forth our own view of this mighty problem of human\nsorrow, let us bear in mind that our private hardships and those general\nevils which we see enacted on a scale of such appalling magnitude in\nthe world around us, must be considered together, for the same cause\nconstantly gives rise to both. It is of the utmost importance that\nwe should weigh well what we have a right to expect, and ponder the\nconditions on which humanity holds the tenure of its existence. Perhaps\nour deepest disappointments are often due to the fact that we ask more\nthan we have any legitimate title to receive, and judge the scheme of\nthe Universe according to false analogies and preconceived notions which\nthe constitution of things does not bear out. We are subject to two\nlaws, the one the law of nature, the other that of morality: the two\nclash and collide, and a conflict ensues. Theology labors to show that\nthis conflict is apparent rather than real, to admit it would seem to\nimpugn the justice of the Deity. Thus we read in the Old Testament that\nwhen the sufferer Job protested his innocence, his friends assailed his\nveracity, and persisted in holding the bare fact of his misfortune as\nunimpeachable evidence of his sinfulness. And thus the Psalmist assures\nus, that he has grown old and never seen the righteous man in want. The\nexperience of the Psalmist must have been limited indeed! The conflict\nexists, however it may be denied. Nature is indifferent to morality,\ngoes on regardless. The great laws that rule the Kosmos, act upon this\nplanet of ours, nor heed our presence. If we chance to stand in the way,\nthey grind us to pieces with grim unconcern: the earth opens, the\nvolcano sends forth its smoldering fires, populous cities are\noverwhelmed, locusts devastate the country; they do not pause before the\nfield of the righteous; they have no moral preference. The seeds of\ndisease also are scattered broadcast over the land, and the best, often\nthose whom we can least afford to lose, are taken. These are the hostile\nforces, and against these man must contend. To them he opposes his\nintellect, his moral energy; he seeks to adapt himself to his place in\nthe universe. He discovers that these foes are blind, not necessarily\nhis enemies, if he can trace their path. If he can read the secret of\ntheir working, they cease to threaten him; he holds them with the reins\nof intellect, and binds them to his chariot, and behold like swift\nsteeds they carry him whithersoever it pleases him, and on, on, they\ndraw his car of progress. In this manner the sway of man's genius is\nextended on earth. Already life is far easier than it was among our\nancestors ten thousand years ago; the epidemic is checked by wise\nsanitary regulations, greater justice prevails in government, and the\nmeans of happiness are extended over wider areas of the population. What\nwe thus behold realized on a partial scale, we conceive in our visions\nof the future to be indefinitely prolonged, the course of development\nleading to higher and higher planes, healthier conditions, wiser laws,\nnobler manners. The moral order will thus increase on earth. The moral\norder never is, but is ever becoming. It grows with our growth, and to\nbring on the triumph of intellect over mechanism, of responsible\nmorality over irresponsible force, is our mission. The purpose of man's\nlife is not happiness, but worthiness. Happiness may come as an\naccessory, we dare never make it an end. There is that striving for the\nperfect within us: in it we live, by it we are exalted above the clod;\nit is the one and only solace that never fails us, and the experience of\nprogress in the past, the hope of greater progress in the future, is the\nredeeming feature of life. But the condition of all progress is\nexperience; we must go wrong a thousand times before we find the right.\nWe struggle, and grope and injure ourselves until we learn the uses of\nthings. Pain therefore becomes a necessity, but it acquires in this view\na new and nobler meaning, for it is the price humanity pays for an\ninvaluable good. Every painful sickness, every premature death, becomes\nthe means of averting sickness and death hereafter. Every form of\nviolence, every social wrong, every inmost tribulation, is the result of\ngeneral causes and becomes a goad in the sides of mankind, pressing them\non to correct the hoary abuses it has tolerated, the vicious principles\nof government, education and economy to which it has conformed. Wide as\nthe earth is the martyrdom of man, but the cry of the martyr is the\ncreaking of the wheel which warns us that the great car of human\nprogress is in motion.\n\nIf we keep duly in mind the position which the human race occupies over\nagainst nature, we shall not accuse fate. Fate is our adversary; we\nmust wrestle with it, we are here to establish the law of our own higher\nnature in defiance of fate. And this is the prerogative of man, that he\nneed not blindly follow the law of his being, but that he is himself the\nauthor of the moral law, and creates it even in acting it out. We are\nall soldiers in the great army of mankind, battling in the cause of\nmoral freedom; some to fight as captains, others to do valiant service\nin the ranks; some to shout the paean of victory, others to fall on the\nbattle field or to retire wounded or crippled to the rear. But as in\nevery battle so too in this, the fallen and the wounded have a share\nin the victory; by their sufferings have they helped, and the greenest\nwreath belongs to them.\n\nIt is strictly in accordance with the view we have taken, that we behold\nin the performance of duty the solace of affliction. All of us have\nfelt, after some great bereavement, the beneficent influence of mere\nlabor: even the mechanical part of duty affords us some relief. The\nknowledge that something must be done calls us away from brooding over\nour griefs, and forces us back into the active currents of life. The\ncultivation of the intellect also is a part of man's duty, and stands us\nin great stead in times of trouble. We should seek to accustom the mind\nto the aspect of large interests. In the pursuit of knowledge there is\nnothing of the personal: into the calm and silent realm of thought the\nfeelings can gain no entrance. There, after the first spasms of emotion\nhave subsided, we may find at least a temporary relief,--there for hours\nwe drink in a happy oblivion. But more is needed, and the discharge of\nthe duties of the heart alone can really console the heart. There is\nthis secret in the affections, that they constantly add to our strength.\nConstant communion between allied natures leads to their mutual\nenrichment by all that is best in either. But when the rude hand of\ndeath interferes, we are as a stream whose outlet is barred, as a\ncreeper whose stay is broken. A larger channel is needed then into which\nthe waters of our love may flow, a firm support, to which the tattered\ntendrils of affection may cling anew. True, the close and intimate bond\nthat unites friend to friend can have no substitute, but the warm love\nthat obtains in the personal relations may be expanded into a wider\nand impersonal love, which, if less intense, is broader, which, if less\nfond, is even more ennobling. The love you can no longer lavish on one,\nthe many call for it. The cherishing care you can no longer bestow\nupon your child, the neglected children of the poor appeal for it; the\nsympathy you can no longer give your friend, the friendless cry for it.\nIn alleviating the misery of others, your own misery will be alleviated,\nand in healing you will find that there is cure.\n\nThis remedy is suggested in an ancient legend related of the Buddha, the\ngreat Hindoo reformer, who was so deeply affected by the ills of human\nlife.* There came to him one day a woman who had lost her only child.\nShe was wild with grief, and with disconsolate sobs and cries called\nfrantically on the prophet to give back her little one to life. The\nBuddha gazed on her long and with that tender sympathy which drew all\nhearts to him, said, \"Go my daughter, get me a mustard seed from a house\ninto which death has never entered, and I will do as thou hast bidden\nme.\" And the woman took up the dead child, and began her search. From\nhouse to house she went saying, \"Give me a mustard seed, kind folk, a\nmustard seed for the prophet to revive my child.\" And they gave her\nwhat she asked, and when she had taken it, she inquired whether all were\ngathered about the hearth, father and mother and the children; but the\npeople would shake their heads and sigh, and she would turn on her way\nsadder than before. And far as she wandered, in town and village, in\nthe crowded thoroughfare, and by the lonely road side, she found not the\nhouse into which death had never entered. Then gradually as she went on,\nthe meaning of the Buddha's words dawned upon her mind; gradually as she\nlearned to know the great sorrow of the race every where around her,\nher heart went out in great yearning sympathy to the companions of her\nsorrow; the tears of her pity fell free and fast, and the passion of\nher grief was merged in compassion. She had learned the great lesson of\nrenunciation; had learned to sink self in the unselfish.\n\n     * We have ventured to offer this interpretation of the\n     legend in an article published in the Atlantic Monthly for\n     June, 1875, from which the account in the text is taken.\n\nFrom the depths of the heart the stream of grief rises resistless, the\ndams and dykes of reason are impotent to stay its course. Prepare a\nchannel therefore to lead out its swelling tide away to the great ocean\nof mankind's sorrow, where in commingling it shall be absorbed.\n\nThe consolations of the Ideal are vigorous: they do not encourage idle\nsentiment: they recommend to the sufferer, action. The loss indeed as we\nset out by saying, remains a loss, and no preaching or teaching can ever\nmake it otherwise. The question is, whether it shall weaken and embitter\nus, or become the very purification of our souls, and lead us to grander\nand diviner deeds, lead us to raise unto the dead we mourn, a monument\nin our lives that shall be better than tiny pillared chapel or storied\nmarble tomb.\n\nThus from whatever point we start, we arrive at the same conclusion\nstill: \"not in the creed but in the deed!\" In the deed is the pledge of\nthe sacredness of life; in the deed is the reward of our activities in\nhealth; in the deed our solace, and our salvation even in the abysmal\ngulfs of woe. In hours of great sorrow we turn in vain to nature for an\ninspiring thought. We question the sleepless stars; they are cold\nand distant: the winds blow, the rivers run their course, the seasons\nchange; they are careless of man. In the world of men alone do we find\nan answering echo to the heart's needs. Let us grasp hands cordially and\nlook into each other's eyes for sympathy, while we travel together on\nour road toward the unknown goal. To help one another is our wisdom, and\nour renown, and our sweet consolation.\n\n\n\n\nVIII. SPINOZA.\n\nTwo centuries have elapsed since Spinoza passed from the world of the\nliving, and to-day that high and tranquil spirit walks the earth once\nmore and men make wide their hearts to receive his memory and his name.\nThe great men whom the past has wronged, receive at last time's tardy\nrecompense.\n\nOn the day that Columbus set sail for America, the Jews left Spain in\nexile. Many of their number, however, who could not find it in their\nhearts to bid adieu to their native land, remained and simulated the\npractice of devout Catholics while in secret they preserved their\nallegiance to their ancestral religion. They occupied high places in the\nchurch and state, and monks, prelates and bishops were counted in their\nranks. Ere long the suspicions of the Inquisition were alarmed against\nthese covert heretics, and their position became daily more perilous and\ninsecure. Some were condemned to the stake, others pined for years in\ndungeons; those that could find the means, escaped and sought in distant\nlands security and repose from persecution. It was especially the Free\nStates of Holland whose enlightened policy offered an asylum to the\nfugitives, and thither accordingly in great numbers they directed their\nsteps. Their frugality, their thrift and enterprise, contributed not a\nlittle to build up the prosperity of the Dutch metropolis.\n\nIn the opening of the seventeenth century a considerable congregation of\nthe Jews had collected in the city of Amsterdam. There in the year\n1632, the child of Spanish emigrants, Benedict Spinoza was born. Of\nhis childhood we know little. At an early age he was initiated into\nthe mysteries of Hebrew lore, was instructed in the Hebrew grammar, and\nlearned to read and translate the various writings of the Old Testament.\nHe was taught to thread his way through the mazes of the Talmud, and its\nsubtle discussions proved an admirable discipline in preparing him for\nthe favorite pursuits of his after years. Lastly he was introduced to\nthe study of the Jewish philosophers, among whom Maimonides and Ibn Ezra\nengaged his especial attention. Maimonides, one of the most profound\nthinkers of the middle ages, strove to harmonize the teachings of\nAristotle with the doctrines of the Bible. Ibn Ezra on the other hand,\nwas a confirmed sceptic. In his biblical commentaries he anticipates\nmany noteworthy discoveries of modern criticism, and his orthodoxy in\nother respects also is more than doubtful.\n\nIn all these different branches of theology the young Spinoza made rapid\nprogress and soon gained astonishing proficiency. He was the favorite\nof his instructors, and they predicted that he would one day become a\nshining light of the synagogue. Not content, however, with this course\nof study, Spinoza addressed himself to the study of Roman literature,\nand with the assistance of a certain Dr. Van den Ende, who had at that\ntime gained considerable repute as a teacher of liberal learning, he\nsoon became an accomplished Latin scholar. He also took up the study of\nGeometry and of Physics, and acquired considerable skill in the art of\nsketching. His mind being thus stored with various knowledge, he was\nprepared to enter the vast realm of metaphysical speculation and\nhere the works of Rene Descartes, preeminently engaged his attention.\nDescartes, whose motto, _De omnibus dubitandum est_, sufficiently\nindicates the revolutionary character of his teachings, was the leader\nof the new school of thought on the continent. His influence proved\ndecisive in shaping the career of Spinoza. Bruno also deserves mention\namong those who determined the bias of Spinoza's mind. I mean that Bruno\nwas among the first followers of Copernicus, proclaimed the doctrine of\nthe infinity of worlds and who himself inculcated a species of pantheism\nfor which he paid the last penalty at Rome in the year 1600, thirty-two\nyears before Spinoza was born. By all these influences the mind of the\nyoung philosopher was widened beyond the sphere of his early education.\nIn the pursuit of truth he sought the society of congenial minds, and\nfound among the cultivated Christians of his day that intellectual\nsympathy of which he stood in need. From the high plane of thought\nwhich he had now reached, the rites and practices of external religion\ndwindled in importance, and the questions of creed for which the mass\nof men contend appeared little and insignificant. His absence from the\nworship of the synagogue now began to be remarked; it was rumored\nthat he neglected the prescribed fasts and he was openly charged\nwith partaking of forbidden food. At first he was treated with great\nleniency. So high was his credit with the Rabbis, so impressed were they\nwith his singular abilities, that they strove by every gentle means to\nwin him back to his allegiance. They admonished him, held out prospects\nof honor and emolument; it is even stated that at last in despair of\nreclaiming him they offered an annual pension of a thousand florins to\npurchase his silence. Spinoza himself was keenly alive to the gravity\nof his position. It had been fondly hoped that he would shed new lustre\nupon the religion of Israel. He would be accused of vile ingratitude for\ndeserting his people. He foresaw the inevitable rupture that would cut\nhim off forever from friends and kinsmen, from the opportunities of\nwealth and honorable position, and deliver him over to privation and\npoverty. He himself tells us in the introduction of a work which had\nlong been forgotten and has been only recently rescued from oblivion,\nthat he saw riches and honor and all those goods for which men strive,\nplaced before him on the one hand, and a sincere life serenely true\nto itself on the other; but that the former seemed veritable shams and\nevils compared with that one great good. Nay, he said, though he might\nnever reach the absolute truth, he felt as one sick unto death, who\nknows but one balm that can help him and who must needs search for that\nbalm whereby perchance he may be healed.\n\nGreat was the commotion stirred up against him in the Jewish community\nof Amsterdam. One evening a fanatic assaulted him on the street and\nattempted his life. The stroke of the assassin's dagger was successfully\nparried. But Spinoza felt that the city was now no longer safe for him\nto dwell in. He fled and for some time frequently changed his place of\nresidence, until at last he settled at the Hague where he remained until\nhis death. In the mean time the lenient spirit of the Jewish leaders had\nchanged into stern, uncompromising rigor. Observe now how persecution\nbreeds persecution. It had been the pride of Judaism from of old that\nwithin its pale the practice of religion was deemed more essential\nthan the theory; that it permitted the widest divergence in matters of\nbelief, and granted ample tolerance to all. But these Jews of Amsterdam,\nfresh from the dungeons and the torture chambers of the Inquisition, had\nthemselves imbibed the dark spirit of their oppressors. Uriel d'Acosta\nthey had driven to the verge of insanity and to a tragic death by their\ncruel bigotry. And now the same methods were employed against a wiser\nand greater and purer man, far than he.\n\nOn the 27th of July, 1656, in the synagogue of Amsterdam, the sacred\nark, containing the scrolls of the law, being kept open during the\nceremony, the edict of excommunication was solemnly promulgated. It\nreads somewhat as follows:\n\n\"By the decree of the angels and the verdict of the saints we separate,\ncurse and imprecate Baruch de Spinoza with the consent of the blessed\nGod and of this holy congregation, before the holy books of the Law with\nthe commandments that are inscribed therein, with the ban with which\nJoshua banned Jericho, with the curse with which Elias cursed the\nyouths, and with all the imprecations that are written in the Law.\nCursed be he by day and cursed by night; cursed when he lies down,\nand cursed when he rises; cursed in his going forth, and cursed in his\ncoming in. May the Lord God refuse to pardon him; may his wrath and\nanger be kindled against this man, and on him rest all the curses that\nare written in this book of the Law. May the Lord wipe out his name\nfrom under the heavens, and separate him for evil from all the tribes\nof Israel, with all the curses of the firmament that are written in the\nbook of the Law. And ye that hold fast to the Lord God are all living\nthis day! we warn you that none shall communicate with him either by\nword of mouth or letter, nor show him any favor, nor rest under the same\nroof with him, nor approach his person within four yards, nor read any\nwriting that he has written.\"\n\nWhen Spinoza heard of this anathema he calmly replied: \"They compel me\nto do nothing which I was not previously resolved upon.\" He retired\nfrom the commerce of the world. He coveted solitude. Within his silent\nchamber he moved in a world of his own. There in twenty years of patient\npassionless toil he built up the mighty edifice of his system. It rises\nbefore us as if hewn of granite rock. Its simplicity, its grandeur,\nits structural power have been the wonder of men. I can offer only the\nbarest outline of its design.\n\nMan's questioning spirit seeks to penetrate to the heart of Nature,\nwould grasp the origin of things. There is this mighty riddle: who will\nsolve it? Various attempts have been made. Pantheism is one. Spinoza was\nthe great philosopher of Pantheism.\n\nBeneath all diversity there is unity. In all of Nature's myriad forms\nand changes, there is a substance unchangeable. It is uncreated,\nundivided, uncaused, the Absolute, Infinite, God. Thought and extension\nare its attributes; it is the One in All, the All in One. God is not\nmatter, is not mind; is that deeper unity in which matter and mind are\none; God or Nature, Spinoza says. This is not the God of theology. God\nis in the tree, in the stone, in the stars, in man. God does not live,\nnor labor for any purpose, but produces from the necessity of his Being\nin endless variety, in ceaseless activity. He is the inner cause of all\nthings, the ultimate Reality, and all things are as in their nature they\npartake of him.\n\nMan also is of God. The essence of man is in the mind. Man is a logical\nbeing. God alone owns truth; in so far as man thinks truly and clearly,\nhe is a part of the infinite God. Logic is the basis of ethics. Spinoza\nignores sentiment, ignores art. Good and evil are but other names for\nuseful and not useful. But that alone is useful that we follow the\nnecessary and universal laws, seeking by the depth and reach of\nintellect to know and understand.\n\nVirtue is the pursuit of knowledge. There are three kinds of knowledge:\nthe blurred perceptions of the senses, the light of the understanding,\nthe intuition of intellect. The last is the highest.\n\nVirtue is the sense of being; whatever heightens the joyous\nconsciousness of our active faculties is therefore good. The wise man\ndelights in the moderate enjoyment of pleasant food and drink, in the\ncolor and loveliness of green shrubs, in the adornment of garments, in\nmusic's sweetness. But our true being is to be found only in intellect;\nhence, virtue the joy of being, is the joy of thought; hence, the bold\nassertion--that is moral which helps, and that immoral which hinders\nthought.\n\nMan is a social being. As a drop is raised upward in the great ocean\nby the onflowing of the wave, so the individual mind is exalted by the\npresence and communion of congenial minds moving in the same current.\n\n'Tis thus that Spinoza deduces the social virtues. Hate is evil at all\ntimes, for hate implies the isolation and the weakness of the powers of\nreason. We should reward hatred with love and restore the broken accord\nof intellect. Love is the sense of kinship in the common search for\nreason's goal--wisdom. That all men should so live and act together that\nthey may form, as it were, one body and one mind, is the ideal of life.\nFriendship therefore he prizes as the dearest of earth's possessions,\nand wedlock he esteems holy because in it is cemented the union of two\nsouls for the common search of truth. We should be serene at all times\nand shun fear, which is weakness, and hope also which is the child of\ndesire, and haughtiness and humbleness and remorse and pity should we\navoid. But in stillness and with collected power shall we possess our\nsouls obedient to the laws of mind that make our being and helping when\nwe help for reason's sake. The passions bind us to passing phenomena.\nWhen they become transparent to our reason, when we know their causes\nthen our nature conquers outward nature and we are masters, we are free.\n\nThus the emotional life is extinguished. The feelings lose their color\nand vitality, become blank \"as lines and surfaces,\" and man, freed from\nthe constraints of passion, dwells in the pure realm of intellect, and\nin constant intercourse with the mind of God, fulfills the purpose of\nhis existence--to know and understand.\n\nAgainst the blows of misfortune also reason steels us. Sorrow is but the\nlurking suspicion that all might have been otherwise. When we come to\nknow that all things are by necessity, we shall find tranquillity in\nyielding to the inevitable. For so God works by necessity. For all\nthings are in his hands as clay in the hand of the potter, which the\npotter taketh and fashioneth therefrom vessels of diverse value, some\nto honor and some to disgrace. And none shall rebuke him, for all is by\nnecessity.\n\nWhen the body passes away the mind does not wholly perish, but something\nremains that is infinite, an eternal modus dwelling in the depths of\nthe eternal mind. But though we knew not that something of the mind\nremained, yet were goodness and strength of soul to be sought for above\nall else. For who, foreseeing that he cannot always feed on healthy\nnourishment, would therefore sate himself with deadly poison? or who,\nthough he knew that the mind is not immortal, would therefore lead an\nempty life, devoid of reason's good and guidance? The wisdom of the wise\nand the freedom of the free is not in the aspect of death but of life.\nReligion and piety lead us to follow the laws of necessity in the world\nwhere they are manifest, to dwell on the intellect of God, of God their\nfount and origin.\n\nBut I forbear to enter farther into this wonderful system. We see a\ngiant wrestling with nature, seeking to wrest from her her secret.\nMysterious nature baffles him and the riddle is still unread. That\nsubstance of which he speaks is no more than an abstraction of the mind\nwhose reality in the outward world he has failed to prove. He has also\nerred in turning aside from the rich and manifold life of the emotions,\nfor the emotions are not in themselves evil, they are the seminal\nprinciple of all virtue.\n\nOn pillars of intellect, Spinoza reared his system. Still, solemn,\nsublime like high mountains it towers upward, but is devoid of color and\nwarmth, and even the momentary glow that now and then starts up in his\nwritings, passes quickly away like the flush of evening that reddens the\nsnowy summits of Alpine ranges.\n\nSpinoza's name marks a lofty peak in human history. He was a true man;\nno man more fully lived his teachings. If he describes the pursuit\nof knowledge as the highest virtue, he was himself a noble example of\ntireless devotion in that pursuit. He was well versed in the natural\nsciences, skillful in the use of the microscope, and his contributions\nto the study of the inner life of man have earned him lasting\nrecognition. Johannes Mueller, the distinguished physiologist, has\nincluded the third division of Spinoza's _Ethics_ in his well known work\non physiology.\n\nReligion, however, was Spinoza's favorite theme, that religion which is\nfree from all passionate longings and averse to superstition of whatever\nkind. He was among the first to hurl his mighty arguments against\nthe infallible authority of the Bible, arguments that still command\nattention though two hundred years have since passed by. Miracles, he\nsaid, are past belief, the beauty of Cosmos is far more deserving\nof admiration than any so called miracle could possibly be. He\ndemanded--this was a great and novel claim--that the methods of natural\nscience be applied to the study of scripture, that the character of the\nage and local surroundings be considered in determining the meaning of\neach scriptural author. In brief that a natural history of the bible,\nso to speak, should be attempted. He claimed that the priesthood had\nfalsified the very book which they professed to regard most holy.\nHe denied the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch, and set forth in\nsingularly clear and lucid language the discrepancies in which that work\nabounds. He closed the treatise in which these views are laid down--the\nTheologico-political Tract--with a magnificent plea for liberty of\nconscience and of speech. That state alone, he says, can be free and\nhappy which rests on the freedom of the Individual citizen. Where the\nright of free utterance is curtailed, hypocrisy and shameful conformance\nflourish, and public contumely and disgrace which ought to serve as a\nmete punishment for the vicious, become a halo about the head of the\nmost noble of men. Religion and piety, he concludes, the state has a\nright to demand, but nothing hereafter shall be known as religion and\npiety save the practice of equity and of a wise and helpful love.\n\nIt was a bold awakening note which thus rang out into the seventeenth\ncentury, and theologians were bitter in their replies. The book was\nconfiscated and Christian curses were added to Jewish anathemas. But\nthey failed to affect Spinoza.\n\nFew men have suffered as he did. Few have preserved the same equanimity\nof soul in the face of adverse fortune. Twenty years he dwelt alone. For\ndays he did not leave his student's closet, drawing his mighty circles,\nintent on those high thoughts that formed the companionship he loved.\nThose that knew him well revered him. De Witt the noble statesman, De\nWitt who ended his days so miserably, torn to pieces by a maddened mob,\nsought his counsel. Young ardent disciples from a distance sent him\nwords of cheer into his solitude. His soul was pure as sunlight, his\ncharacter crystal clear. He was frugal in the extreme: a few pence a day\nsufficed to sustain him. Not that he affected austere views in general,\nbut the deep meditations that occupied his mind left him little time\nor inclination for the grosser pleasures. His sense of honor was\nscrupulously nice. Again and again did he reject the munificent pensions\nwhich his friends pressed upon him; he would be free and self-sustained\nin all things. In his leisure hours he busied himself with the grinding\nand polishing of optical lenses, an exercise that offered him at once\nthe means of support and a welcome relaxation from the severe strain\nof mental effort. His temper was rarely ruffled; he was placid, genial,\nchildlike. When wearied with his labors he would descend to the family\nof his landlord, the painter Van der Speke, and entering into the\naffairs of these simple people, he found, in their unaffected converse,\nthe relief he sought.\n\nHe valued the peace of mind which he had purchased so dearly. When the\nElector of the Palatinate offered him the chair of philosophy at the\nUniversity of Heidelberg on condition that he would so expound his\nphilosophy as not to interfere with the established religion, he\ndeclined, replying that he could teach the truth only as he saw it, and\nthat evil and designing men would doubtless add point and poison to his\nwords. Yet he was fearless. When toward the close of his career,\nhis life was again imperiled, the grave tranquillity of his demeanor\ninspired his agitated friends with calmness and confidence.\n\nHe had gained his forty-fourth year. For half a life time he had been\nfighting a treacherous disease, that preyed in secret upon his health.\nHis life was slowly ebbing away amidst constant suffering, yet no\ncomplaint crossed his lips and his nearest companions were hardly\naware of what he endured. In the early part of the year 1677 one day\nin February, while the family of the painter were at church the end\napproached. Only a single friend was with him. Calmly as he had lived,\nin the stillness of the Sunday afternoon, Spinoza passed away.\n\nHe has left a name in history that will not fade. His people cast him\nout, Christianity rejected him, but he has found a wider fellowship, he\nbelongs to all mankind. Great hearts have throbbed responsive to his\nteachings and many a sorrowful soul has owned the restful influence of\nhis words. He was a helper of mankind. Not surely because he solved the\nultimate problems of existence--what mortal ever will--but because he\nwas wise in the secret of the heart, because he taught men to appease\ntheir fretful passions in the aspect of the infinite laws in which we\nlive and are.\n\nSacred is the hour in which we read his Ethics. From the heat and glare\nof life we enter into its precincts as into the cool interior of some\nhallowed temple of religion. But no idol stands there; the spirit of\ntruth alone presides and sanctifies the place and us. The great men\nof the past we will reverence. They are mile-stones on the highway of\nhumanity, types of the Infinite, that has dawned in human breasts. Such\nan one was he of whom I have spoken. And more and more as the light\nincreases among men will all that was good and great in him shine forth\nto irradiate their path. And as we stand here to-day on this day of\nremembrance to recall his teachings and his example, so when other\ncenturies shall have elapsed, the memory of Spinoza will still live,\nposterity will still own him, and distant generations will name him\nanew: Benedictus--Blessed!\n\n\n\n\nIX. THE FOUNDER OF CHRISTIANITY\n\n     {A discourse delivered on Sunday, December 31, 1876.}\n\n\"I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil, for verily I say unto you till\nheaven and earth pass away one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass\nfrom the law till all be fulfilled.\" \"Resist not evil, * * * bless them\nthat curse you, do good to them that hate you.\"\n\nIn these sayings of Jesus the key note of early Christianity is struck.\nIt was not a revolt against Judaism, it was but a reiterated assertion\nof what other and older Prophets of the Hebrews had so often and so\nfervently preached. The law was to remain intact, but the spiritual\nlaw was meant, the deeper law of conscience that underlies the forms of\nlegislation and the symbols of external worship.\n\nThere is a rare and gracious quality in the personality of Jesus as\ndescribed in the Gospels, which has exercised its charm upon the most\nheterogeneous nations and periods of history wide apart in the order of\ntime and of culture.\n\nTo grasp the subtle essence of that charm, and thereby to understand\nwhat it was that has given Christianity so powerful a hold upon\nthe affections of mankind, were a task well worthy the attention of\nthoughtful minds. We desire to approach our subject in the spirit of\nreverence that befits a theme with which the tenderest fibres of faith\nare so intimately interwoven; at the same time we shall pay no regard\nto the dogmatic character with which his later followers have invested\nJesus, for we behold his true grandeur in the pure and noble humanity\nwhich he illustrated in his life and teachings.\n\nThe New Testament presents but scant material for the biography of\nJesus, and the authenticity, even of the little that remains to us, has\nbeen rendered extremely uncertain by the labors of modern critics. A few\nleading narratives, however, are doubtless trustworthy, and these will\nsuffice for our purpose. A brief introduction on the character of the\npeople among whom the new prophet arose, the characteristics of the\nage in which he lived, and the beliefs that obtained in his immediate\nsurroundings, will assist us in our task.\n\nThe expectation of the Messiah had long been rife among the Jews.\nHolding themselves to be the elect people of God, they believed the\ntriumph of monotheism to be dependent upon themselves. The prophets of\nJehovah had repeatedly assured them that their supremacy would finally\nbe acknowledged. Events however had turned out differently. Instead of\nsuccess they met with constant defeat and disaster; Persia, Egypt, Syria\nhad successively held their land in subjection; the very existence of\ntheir religion was threatened, and the heathen world, far from showing\nsigns of approaching conversion, insisted upon its errors with increased\nobstinacy and assurance. And yet Jehovah had distinctly promised that he\nwould raise up in his own good time, a new ruler from the ancient\nline of Israel's Kings, a son of David, who should lead the people to\nVictory. To his sceptre all the nations would bow, and in his reign the\nfaith of the Hebrews would be acknowledged as the universal religion.\nEvery natural means for the fulfilment of these predictions seemed now\ncut off, nothing remained but to take refuge in the supernatural; it was\nsaid that the old order of things must entirely pass away; a new heaven\nand a new earth be created and what was called the Kingdom of Heaven\nmight then be expected. The \"Kingdom of Heaven,\" a phrase that\nfrequently recurs in the literature of the Jews, is used, not to\ndescribe a locality, but to denote a state of affairs on earth, in\nwhich the will of heaven would be generally obeyed without the further\nintervention of human laws and government. The agency of the Messiah was\nlooked to, for the consummation of these happy hopes. To reward those\nwho had perished before his coming, many moreover of those that slept\nin the dust would awaken, and the general resurrection of the dead would\nsignalize the approach of the millennium.\n\nAt the end of the first century B. C. these expectations had created\na wild ferment among the population of Palestine. Now if ever, it was\nfondly urged, they must be fulfilled. The need was at its highest, help\nthen must be nighest. For matters had indeed grown from bad to worse,\nthe political situation was intolerable, after the brief spell of\nindependence in the days of the Maccabees, the Roman yoke had been\nfastened upon the necks of the people, and the weight of oppression\nbecame tenfold more difficult to support from the sweet taste of liberty\nthat had preceded it. The rapacity of the Roman Governors knew no\nbounds. A land impoverished by incessant wars and the frequent failure\nof the crops, was drained of its last resources to satisfy the\nenormous exactions of a foreign despot, while to all this was added the\nhumiliating consciousness that it was a nation of idolators which was\nthus permitted to grind the chosen people.\n\nNor was the condition of religion at all more satisfactory. It is true\nthe splendid rites of the public worship were still maintained at the\nTemple, and Herod was even then re-building the Sanctuary on a scale of\nunparalleled magnificence. Bright was the sheen and glitter of gold upon\nits portals, solemn the ceremonies enacted in its halls, and grand and\nimpressive the voices of the Levitic choirs as they sang to the tuneful\nmelody of cymbals and of harps. But the lessons of history teach us\nthat the times in which lavish sums are expended on externals, are not\nusually those in which religion possesses true vitality and power and\ndepth. Here was a brand flickering near extinction; here was a builder\nwho built for destruction; the Temple had ceased to satisfy the needs of\nthe people.\n\nIn the cities an attempt to supply the deficiency was made by the party\nof the Pharisees. They sought to broaden and to spiritualize the meaning\nof scripture--they laid down new forms of religious observance by means\nof which every educated man became, so to speak, his own priest. The\nreligion of the Pharisees however assumed a not inconsiderable degree of\nintellectual ability on the part of its followers. So far as it went it\nanswered very well for the intelligent middle classes. But out in the\ncountry districts it did not answer at all; not for the herdsmen, not\nfor the poor peasants, not for those who had not even the rudiments of\nlearning and who could do nothing with a learned religion. And yet these\nvery men before all others needed something to support them, something\nto cling to, even because they were so miserably poor and illiterate.\nThey did not get what they wanted--they felt very strongly that the\nburdens upon them were exceedingly grievous; that while they suffered\nand starved, religion dwelt in palaces, and had no heart for their\nmisfortunes. They felt that something was wrong and rotten in the then\nstate of affairs, and that a new state must come, and a heaven-sent\nking, who would lend a voice to their needs, and lift them with strong\narms from out their despair and degradation. Nowhere was this feeling\nmore marked than in the district of Galilee. A beautiful land with\ngreen, grassy valleys, groves of sycamores, broad blue lakes, and\nvillages nestling picturesquely on the mountain slopes, it nourished\nan ardent and impulsive population. Their impatience with the existing\norder of things had already found vent in furious revolt. Judah, their\nfamous leader, had perished; his two sons, James and Simon, had been\nnailed to the cross; the Messiah was daily and hourly expected; various\nimpostors successively arose and quickly disappeared; when would the\nhour of deliverance come; when would the true Messiah appear at last?\n\nIt was at such a time and among such a people, that there arose Jesus\nof Nazareth in Galilee. What was the startling truth he taught? What was\nthe new revelation he preached to the sons of men? An old truth, and an\nold sermon--Righteousness; no more, meaning nothing at all, a mere trite\ncommon-place, on the lips of the time-server and the plausible vendor of\nmoral phrases. Meaning mighty changes for the better, when invoked with\na profounder sense of its sanctity, and a new sacredness in life, and\nlarger impulses for ever and for ever. Righteousness he taught, and\nthe change that was to come by righteousness. Yes, so deep was his\nconviction, so profoundly had the current conceptions of the day\naffected him, that he believed the change to be near at hand, that he\nhimself might be its author, himself Messiah.\n\nThe novelty of Jesus' work has been sought in various directions. It has\nbeen said, for instance, to consist in the overthrow of phariseeism; and\nit is true that he rebukes the pharisees in the most severe terms; these\nreproaches, however, were not directed against the party as a whole, but\nonly against its more extravagant and unworthy members. The pharisees\nwere certainly not a \"race of hypocrites, and a generation of vipers.\"\nLet us remember that Jesus himself, in the main, adhered to their\nprinciples; that his words often tally strictly with theirs; that even\nthe golden sayings which are collected in the sermon on the mount, may\nbe found in the contemporaneous Hebrew writings, whose authors were\npharisees. Thirty years before his time, Hillel arose among the\npharisees, renowned for his marvellous erudition, beloved and revered\nbecause of the gentleness and kindliness of his bearing, the meekness\nwith which he endured persecution, the loving patience with which he\novercame malice and hate. When asked to express in brief terms the\nessence of the law, he to the pharisee replied, \"Do not unto others what\nthou wouldst not that others do unto thee;\" this is the essence, all the\nrest is commentary,--\"go and learn.\" Jesus fully admits the authority\nof the pharisees. \"The pharisees,\" he says, \"sit in Moses' seat; all\ntherefore whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do.\" If we\nread the gospel of Matthew, we find that he does not attempt to abrogate\nthe pharisaic commandments, but only insists upon the greater importance\nof the commandments of the heart. \"Woe,\" he cries, \"or ye pay tithe of\nmint, of anise and cumin, but ye have omitted the weightier matters of\nthe law, judgment, mercy and faith, these ought ye to have done, _and\nnot to leave the other undone_,\"--and again, \"If thou bring thy gift\nto the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against\nthee, leave there thy gift before the altar and go thy way; first be\nreconciled to thy brother, and then _come and offer thy gift_.\" The\nleper also whom he cured of his disease, he advises to bring the gift\nprescribed by the Jewish ritual. We cannot fully understand the conduct\nof Jesus in this respect, unless we bear in mind that he believed the\nmillenial time to be near at hand. At that time it was supposed\nthe ancient ceremonial of Judaism would come to an end by its own\nlimitation; until that time arrived, it should be respected. He does\nnot wage war against the religious tenets and practices of his age; only\nwhen they interfere with the superior claims of moral rectitude does\nhe bitterly denounce them, and ever insists that righteousness be\nrecognized as the one thing above all others needful.\n\nNor is the novelty of Jesus' work to be found in the extension of the\ngospel to the heathen world. It seems, on the contrary, highly probable\nthat he conceived his mission to lie within the sphere of his own\npeople, and devoted his chief care and solicitude to their welfare. \"I\nam not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel,\" he says;\nand thus he charges his apostles, \"Go ye not into the way of the\nGentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not. Go rather to\nthe lost sheep of the house of Israel, and as ye go, preach, saying the\nkingdom of heaven is at hand.\" And yet his exclusive devotion to\nthe interest of the Jews is not at variance with the world-embracing\ninfluence attributed to the Messianic character. In common with all\nhis people, he believed that upon the approach of the millennium, the\nnations of the earth would come of their own accord, to the holy mount\nof Israel, accept Israel's religion, and thenceforth live obedient to\nthe Messianic King. The millennium was now believed to be actually in\nsight. \"Verily I say unto you there be some standing here who shall not\ntaste of death until they see the Son of man coming in his Kingdom.\"\nFrom the Jewish standpoint, therefore, which was the one taken by Jesus\nand the earliest Christians, the mission to the heathen was unnecessary.\n\nAnd again it has been said that the evangel of Jesus was new, in that\nit substituted for the stern law of retribution the methods of charity\nand the law of love; that while the elder prophets had taught the people\nto consider themselves servants of a task-master, he taught them freedom\nand brotherhood. But is this true? Will any one who has read the Hebrew\nProphets with attention, venture to assert that they instil a slavish\nfear into the hearts of men; they whose every line speaks aspiration,\nwhose every word breathes liberty? It is true their language is often\nstern when they dwell on duty. And it is right that it should be so, for\nso also is duty stern and in matters of conscience sentimental ism is\nout of place, harmful. Simple obedience to the dictates of the moral law\nis required, imperatively, unconditionally, not for pity's sake, nor for\nlove's sake, but for the right's sake, simply and solely because it\nis right. But the emotions that are never the sufficient sanctions of\nconduct may ennoble and glorify right conduct. And how tenderly do the\nancient prophets also attune their monitions to the promptings of the\nrichest and purest of human sympathies. \"Thy neighbor thou shalt love as\nthyself,\" was written by them, and \"Have we not all one Father, has not\none God created us all.\" Thy poor brother too is thy brother, and in\nsecret shalt thou give charity. In the dusk of the evening the poor are\nto come into the cornfields and gather there, and no man shall know who\nhas given and who has received. The ancient prophets were idealists,\npreachers of the Spirit as opposed to the form that cramps and\nbelittles. In Jesus we behold a renewal of their order, a living protest\nagainst the formalism that had in the interval become encrusted about\ntheir teachings, only differing from his predecessors in this, that the\nhopes which they held out for a distant future, seemed to him nigh their\nfulfilment, and that he believed himself destined to fulfil them.\n\nIf we can discover nothing that had not been previously stated in the\nsubstance of Jesus' teachings, there is that in the method he pursued,\nwhich calls for genuine admiration and reverence, the method of rousing\nagainst the offender the better nature in himself: of seeming yielding\nto offence based on an implicit trust in the resilient energy of the\ngood; of conquering others, by the strength of meekness and the might of\nlove. Hillel too was endowed with this strength of meekness, and Buddha\nhad said, long before the days of Jesus: \"Hatred is not conquered by\nhatred at any time, hatred is conquered by love; this is an old rule.\"\nBut in the story of no other life has this method been applied with such\nsingular sweetness, with such consistent harmony from the beginning to\nthe end. Whether we find him in the intimate circle of his disciples,\nwhether he is instructing the multitude along the sunny shores of Lake\nGennesareth, whether he stands before the tribunal of his judges, or in\nthe last dire agonies of death--he is ever the patient man, the loving\nteacher, the man of sorrows, who looks beyond men and their crimes to\nan ideal humanity, and confides in that; who gives largely, and forgives\neven because he gives so much.\n\nBut we shall not touch the true secret of his power until we recall\nhis sympathy with the neglected classes of society; that quality of his\nnature which caused the poor of Galilee to hail him as their deliverer,\nwhich produced so lasting an impression upon his contemporaries, and\nmade the development of his doctrines into a great religion possible.\nHis gospel was preeminently the gospel for the poor: he sat down with\ndespised publicans, he did not shun the contamination of lepers, nay nor\nof the moral leprosy of sin--he visited the hovels of paupers and\ntaught his disciples to prefer them to the mansions of the fortunate; he\napplied himself with peculiar fervor to those dumb illiterate masses of\nGalilee, who knew not whither they might turn, to what they might cling.\nHe gave them hope, he brought them help. And so it came about that in\nthe early Christian communities which were still fresh from the presence\nof the master, the appeal to conscience he had made so powerfully,\nresulted in solid helpfulness; so it came about that in those pristine\ndays, the Church was a real instrument of practical good, with few\nforms, and little parade, but with love feasts and the communion table\nspread with repasts for the needy. \"Come unto me all ye that labor and\nare heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and\nlearn of me, * * * for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.\" It is\nfrom such particulars that there was drawn that fascinating image which\nhas captivated the fancy and attracted the worship of mankind. The\nimage of the pale man with the deep, earnest eyes, who roused men to new\nexertions for the good, who lifted up the down-trodden, who loved little\nchildren and taught the older children in riddles and parables that they\nmight understand, and the brief career of whose life was hallowed all\nthe more in memory, because of the mournful tragedy in which it closed.\nAll the noblest qualities of humanity were put into this picture and\nmade it lovely. It was the humanity, not the dogma of Jesus, by which\nChristianity triumphed. Like a refreshing shower in the perfumed spring,\nhis glad tidings of a new enthusiasm for the good came upon the\narid Roman world, sickening with the dry rot of self-indulgence, and\nthirsting for some principle to give a purpose to the empty weariness\nof existence. Like a message from a sphere of light it spread to the\nGermanic tribes, tempered the harshness of their manners, taught them\na higher law than that of force, and conquered their grim strength with\nthe mild pleadings of the Master of meekness in far-off Galilee.\n\nIt is the moral element contained in it that alone gives value and\ndignity to any religion, and only then when its teachings serve to\nstimulate and purify our aspirations toward the good, does it deserve to\nretain its ascendancy over mankind. Claiming to be of celestial origin,\nthe religions have drawn their secret spell from the human heart itself.\nThere is a principle of reverence inborn in every child of man,--this he\nwould utter. He sees the firmament above him, with its untold hosts;\nhe stands in the midst of mighty workings, he is filled with awe; he\nstretches forth his arms to grasp the Infinite which his soul seeketh,\nhe makes unto himself signs and symbols, saying, let these be tokens of\nwhat no words can convey. But a little time elapses, and these symbols\nthemselves seem more than human, they point no more beyond themselves,\nand man becomes an idolator, not of stone and wood merely. Then it is\nneedful that he remember the divine power with which his soul has been\nclothed from the beginning, that by the force of some moral impulse he\nmay break through the fetters of the creeds, and cast aside the weight\nof doctrines that express his best ideals no more. And so we find in\nhistory that every great religious reformation has been indebted for its\ntriumphs, not to the doctrines that swam upon the surface, but to the\nswelling currents of moral energy that stirred it from below; not to the\ndoctrine of the Logos in Jesus' day, but to the tidings of release\nwhich he brought to the oppressed, not to \"justification by faith,\"\nin Luther's time, but to the mighty reaction to which his thunderous\nprotest lent a voice, against the lewdness and the license of a corrupt\nand cankerous priesthood. The appeal to conscience has ever been the\nlever that raised mankind to a higher plane of religion.\n\nConscience, righteousness, what is there new in these--their maxims\nare as old as the hills? Truly, and as barren often as the rocks. The\nnovelty of righteousness is not in itself, but in its novel application\nto the particular unrighteousness of a particular age. It was thus that\nJesus applied to the sins and mock sanctities of his day, the ancient\ntruths known to the prophets and to others long before him. It is\nthus that every new reformer will seek to bring home to the men of his\ngeneration what it is that the ancient standard of right and justice now\nrequires at their hands. That all men are brothers, who did not concede\nit? But that the enslaved man too is our brother, what a convulsion did\nthat not cause, what vast expenditure of blood and treasure until that\nwas made plain. That we should relieve the necessities of the poor, who\nwill deny it? But that a social system which year by year witnesses the\nincrease of the pauper class, and the increase of their miseries, stands\ncondemned before the tribunal of Religion, of justice, how long will\nit take before that is understood and taken to heart? The facts of\nrighteousness are few and simple, but to apply them how mighty, how\ndifficult a task. The time is approaching when this stupendous work\nmust be attempted anew, and we, a small phalanx in the army of progress,\nwould aid, with what power in us resides. Let this inspire us that we\nhave the loftiest cause of the age for our own, that we are helping\nto pave the way for a stronger and freer and happier race. For by so\nlaboring, alone can we feel that our life has a meaning under the sky\nand the sacred stars.\n\nThe year in which we have entered upon our journey is passing away.\nTo-night when the midnight bells send forth their clamorous voices, we\nshall greet the new year, and the work it brings. No peaceful task dare\nwe expect, but something of good accomplished may it see.\n\n     \"Ring out wild bells to the wild sky,\n     The flying cloud, the frosty light,\n     The year is dying in the night,\n     Ring out wild bells and let him die.\n\n     \"Ring out the old, ring in the new,\n     Ring happy bells across the snow,\n     The year is going, let him go,\n     Ring out the false, ring in the true.\"\n\n\n\n\nX. THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY DISCOURSE.\n\nIt is May, the gladdest season of the year. Life is in the breezes, life\nin the vernal glory of the fields, life in the earth and in the skies.\nOf old, men were wont to go forth at this time into the forest, to\nwreath the fountains with garlands, to cover their houses with green\nbranches, with songs and dances to celebrate the triumph of the Spring.\nHappy festivals, happy omens.\n\nA year has now passed since we began our work, and for many months we\nhave met in this hall week after week. We have reached the first resting\nplace upon our journey, and it behooves us to look back once more upon\nthe path we have travelled, and forward into the yet untried future that\nawaits us.\n\nWhat was it that induced us to enter upon so perilous and for many\nreasons so uncertain an enterprise?\n\nWe felt a great need. Religion which ought to stand for the highest\ntruth, had ceased to be true to us. We saw it at war with the highest\nintelligence of the day; religion and conscience also seemed no longer\ninseparably connected, as they should be. We saw that millions are\nannually lavished upon the mere luxuries of religion, gorgeous temples,\nchurches and on the elaborate apparatus of salvation; we could not but\nreflect that if one tithe of the sums thus set apart were judiciously\nexpended upon the wants of the many who are famishing, distress might\noften be relieved, sickness averted, and crime confined within more\nnarrow boundaries. We saw around us many who had lapsed from their\nancient faith but still preserved the outward show of conformance,\nencouraged in so equivocal a course, by the advice and example of noted\nleaders in the churches themselves. We saw that the great tides of being\nare everywhere sweeping mankind on to larger achievements than were\nknown to the past; only within the churches all is still and motionless;\nonly within the churches the obsolete forms of centuries ago are\nretained, or if concessions to the present are made, they are tardy,\nungracious and insufficient. We beheld that the essentials of religion\nare neglected, even while its accessories are observed with greater\npunctiliousness than ever.\n\nWe were passing moreover through a period of momentous import in our\ncountry's history. The nation had just entered upon the second century\nof its existence, and the great recollections of what the fathers had\ndone and designed for the republic, were fresh in our minds. We recalled\nthe memorable words of Washington in his first inaugural address: \"That\nthe national policy would be laid in the pure and immutable principles\nof private morality.\" But we were startled to observe how greatly recent\nevents had falsified these hopes and felt it our duty, within our own\nlimited sphere, to restore something of that noble simplicity, something\nof that high fidelity to righteousness which it is said adorned the\nearlier days, and on which alone the fortunes of the state can rest\nsecurely hereafter.\n\nThen also the question, how best to educate the children to a worthy\nlife, confronted us. The doctrines of religion as commonly interpreted,\nwe could no longer impart to them; did we attempt to do so, they would\nbe likely to discard them in later years, and would in the mean time be\nseriously injured in their moral estate by the struggle and its probable\nissue. On the other hand we were aware that the temptations which\nsurround the young in this complex and highly wrought civilization of\nours, are peculiarly dangerous and alluring, and by all the holiest\ninstincts of humanity, we conceived ourselves bound to provide more\neffectively for their moral welfare. A few of us therefore took counsel\nhow these objects might be attained, and we determined to take a step in\na new direction. We did not conceal from ourselves the difficulties that\nwould attend what we were about to undertake. We might expect honest\nopposition. There would be no need to shrink from that. We might expect\nmisconstruction, unintentioned or with malice aforethought; we might\nexpect also cold comfort from those illiberal liberals, who are eager\nenough to assert the principles of freedom for themselves, but relax\nalike their principles and their tempers when the limits are transcended\nwhich they have themselves reached, and which, on this account, they\narbitrarily set up as the barriers of future progress. There were other\nobstacles inherent in the nature of the work itself. But all these\nweighed lightly in the scales, when opposed to the stern conviction,\nthat there are certain hideous shams allowed to flourish in our public\nlife; that there are certain great truths which ought to be brought home\nwith new energy to the conscience of the people.\n\nUpon what platform could we unite. To formulate a new creed was out of\nthe question. However comprehensive in its statements it might be, nay\nthough it had been the creed of absolute negation, from which indeed we\nare far removed, it would never have combined our efforts in permanent\nunion. And yet it was plain that to be strong and to exert influence,\nwe must effect a firm, cordial, enthusiastic agreement upon some great\nprinciple. The weakness of the Liberal Party had hitherto been, as we\nknew, its dread of organization. It ensured thereby for its members a\ngreater measure of freedom than is elsewhere known, but it purchased\nthis advantage at an immense expense of practical influence and\ncoherency. Its forces are scattered, and in every emergency, it finds\nitself paralyzed for want of unity in its own ranks. The Catholic Church\nhas pursued the opposite policy, and presents the most notable instance\nof its successful prosecution. It is so formidable, mainly because of\nits splendid scheme of organization, and the high executive ability\nof its leaders. But its power is maintained at a complete sacrifice of\nfreedom. Could we not secure both? Could we not be free and strong? This\nwas the problem before us, and it seemed to us we could.\n\nWhat the exigencies of the modern age demand, more than aught else, is a\nnew movement for the moral elevation of the race. Now the basic facts of\nman's moral nature, though insufficiently illustrated in practice, are\nuniversally admitted among civilized human beings. Concerning them there\nis and can be no dispute. Here then appeared the solid principle of our\nunion. The moral ideal would point the way of safety, the moral ideal\nwould permit us to preserve the sacred right of individual differences\nintact, and yet to combine with our fellow-men for the loftiest and\npurest ends. Taking the term creed therefore in its widest application,\nwe started out with the watchword, Diversity in the Creed, Unanimity in\nthe Deed. This feature, if any at all, lends character to our movement,\nand by it would we be judged. We claim to be thereby distinguished, as\nwell from those religious corporations that base their organization upon\ndefinite theological dogmas, as also from the great majority of Liberals\nwho meet for purposes of contemplation and poetical aspiration, in that\nwe put the moral element prominently forward and behold in it the bond\nof our union, the pledge of our vitality.\n\nBut at the very threshold of our enterprise, we were met by the\nobjection that our main premise is false; that morality is impossible\nwithout dogma, and that in neglecting the one we were virtually\nneutralizing our efforts toward the other. It became our first and most\nserious task therefore to show the futility of this objection, and to\nmake clear by an appeal to philosophy and history that the claims of\ndogma are conditional, while the dictates of morality are imperative.\nThen, having established the priority and supremacy of the moral law,\nto examine what manner of substitute the ethical ideal can offer us to\nreplace the offices of the doctrinal religions; what are the hopes it\nholds out, what its consolations, what it can give us for the priesthood\nand the church. With this task we have been occupied during the year\nthat has gone by, and now, at the close, we propose to review once more,\nthe chief steps which we have taken in the course of our enquiry.\n\nWe discussed in the first place the doctrine of immortality, and some of\nthe main arguments upon which it is commonly founded.\n\nWe next proceeded to take up the study of the Hebrew Bible; for it is\nevident that so long as this book is clothed with infallible authority,\narguments based on fact and logic avail nothing, and reason is helpless\nbefore any random scriptural quotation. We examined the composition of\nthe work: we learned that many of those portions that are esteemed most\nancient, are of comparatively recent origin; that the text is studded\nwith discrepancies, and that the marks of savage and cruel customs such\nas the offering of human sacrifices to the Deity, are still clearly\nindented on the sacred volume. The conclusion followed that a book\nso full of contradiction, so deeply tinged with the evidence of human\nfallibility, could not have been the work of a divine author. The\ninspiration theory being thus divested of its support, we considered how\nbaneful *had been its influence on the course of human history; how it\nhad retarded the progress of the Jews among whom it arose; how it had\nchecked the intellectual development of Europe, how it had hampered\nthe advancement of science; how it had offered a specious plea for the\ndespotism of kings, and of the holy Inquisition; how in our own days it\nhad become in the hands of the Southern slaveholders a most formidable\nmeans of perpetuating their infamous scheme of oppression. We concluded\nthat whatever is false and worthless in the book we should feel at\nliberty to reject, while what is great and holy would not therefore\nbecome less great or less holy to us, because it was proven to be man's\nwork, man's testimony to the divine possibilities inherent in the human\nsoul.\n\nWe went on striving to penetrate more deeply the origin of that\nmysterious power which we call religion. To us it appeared that the\nfeeling of the sublime is the root of the religious sentiment in man.\nThat the Vedahs, Avesta, Koran, Bible are the songs of the nations on\nthe theme of the infinite; and that the moral ideal, whether we endow\nit with personality or not, presents to us the highest type of sublimity\nand is the sole object worthy of religious reverence.\n\n     \"Who dare express him And who profess him\n     Saying, 'I believe in him?'\n     Who feeling, seeing, deny his being\n     Saying I believe him not?\n\n     \"Call it then what thou wilt\n     Call it bliss, heart, love,\n     God; I have no name to give it.\n     Feeling is all in all,\n     The name is sound and smoke.\"\n\nWe maintained lastly, that the entrance of the moral into the sphere\nof religion has endowed the latter with whatever excellence it now\npossesses.\n\nWe showed in another course of lectures, that every great religious\nmovement has been in the essence, a protest against the formalism and\nmock holiness of its time, and derived its vital impulses from the\nmoral elements with which it was suffused. We instanced the case of\nmonotheism, which, as we believe, arose in the struggle of the prophets\nagainst the immoral rites of Baal: We mentioned Buddha, the reformer of\nthe Hindoos, whose sermon of unselfishness won for him the affections\nof the people. We referred on frequent occasions to the fact that\nChristianity likewise triumphed because of the humanity of Jesus:\nbecause he was the Master of meekness; because his gospel was a gospel\nfor the poor. The result of all which was to confirm the priority\nof morality, and to show that it is indeed the source of whatever is\ndurable and valuable in the Creeds.\n\nToward the end of February the two hundredth anniversary of the death\nof Benedict Spinoza, afforded us a welcome opportunity to dwell upon the\nlife and philosophy of that illustrious thinker.\n\nLater on, we endeavored to comprehend the causes which have produced\nthat remarkable change the religious opinions of modern men, that is\ndaily becoming more widely apparent. We found them to be the critical\ninvestigation of the Bible, the progress of the natural sciences, and\nindirectly, the influence of commerce and of industry. We attempted\nto set forth how the introduction of machinery became the means of\nfostering the growth of scepticism even among those classes to whom the\narguments of scholars and men of science do not appeal. We spoke of the\nenlightenment of the masses, and considered the theory of those who\nhold that a religion, even when it is found to be false, should still\nbe maintained as a salutary curb upon the passions of the multitude. We\ninsisted that this view of religion is as unsound as it is degrading;\nthat while all men may not be capable of the highest order of\nintellectual action, all men are capable of heart goodness, and goodness\nis the better part of religion; that a generous confidence is the\nhighest principle of education, and that to trust men is the surest\nmeans of leading them to respond to our confidence; that we should cease\ntherefore to preach the depravity of human nature and preach rather the\ngrandeur which is possible to human nature; that in freedom alone can we\nbecome worthy of being free.\n\nAnd again in a distinct group of lectures we sought to unfold our\nconception of the New Ideal, and to point out that which distinguishes\nit from what has gone before. We spoke of its appeal to the higher\nnature, of its teachings concerning the Infinite within ourselves. We\nspoke of the priests that shall do its service; of the solace it affords\nus by its summons to larger duties; of the ethical schools that shall be\nerected for its culture; of the manner in which women may be prepared\nto aid in its propaganda; lastly of the form which it may assume in the\nfuture, in our discourse on the Order of the Ideal. Thus far have we\nproceeded. We issued our appeal, at first, as men uncertain what the\nfortunes of their enterprise might be. But while we avowed it to be an\nexperiment, we were deeply convinced that it was an experiment which\ndeserved to be tried. And more and more as week followed week, the\nresponse from your side came back full and cordial; and more and more\nas the scope and the ultimate tendencies of our work were developed, new\nfriends came to us whom we had not known, and it became apparent that\nthere is a deep, downright purpose in your midst which will form a bond\nof union for us that shall not easily be snapped asunder. Until at\nlast after a period had gone by, you thought it time to exchange your\ntemporary organization for one more stable, and you declared to all who\nmight be interested in learning it, that it is your intention and your\nhope to become a permanent institution in this community.\n\nWe have made a beginning only. If we look ahead, dangers and\ndifficulties still lie thickly on our path. The larger work is still\nbefore us. But we will confide in the goodness of our cause, and believe\nthat if it be good indeed, in the end it must succeed.\n\nThe country in which we live is most favorable for such experiments as\nours. There are lands of older culture, and men' there of wider vision\nand maturer wisdom, but nowhere, as in America, is a truth once seen,\nso readily applied, nowhere do even the common order of men so feel\nthe responsibility for what transpires, and the impulse to see the best\naccomplished. Here no heavy hand of rulers crushes the incipient good.\nWhen the Pilgrims set out on their voyage across the unknown Atlantic,\nRobinson, their pastor, their leader, addressed them once more before\nthey embarked, and in that solemn hour of parting, warned them against\nthe self-sufficiency of a false conservatism, and dedicated them and the\nnew states they might found, to the increase and the service of larger\ntruths. To larger truths America is dedicated.\n\nO, if it were thine, America, America that hast given political liberty\nto the world, to give that spiritual liberty for which we pant, to break\nalso those spiritual fetters that load thy sons and daughters! All over\nthis land thousands are searching and struggling for the better, they\nknow not what. Oh that we might aid them in the struggle, and they us;\nand the hearts of many be knit together once more in a common purpose\nthat would lift them above their sordid, weary cares, and ennoble their\nlives and make them glorious! The crops are waiting; may the reapers\ncome!\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\n\n\n\nI. THE EVOLUTION OF HEBREW RELIGION.\n\n     \"Dans l'opinion du peuple pour qui ces liyres ont ete ecrits\n     le point capital et essentiel n'est certes pas la narration\n     historiquc, mais bien la legislation et l'idification\n     religieuse.\"\n\nIn 1795, Frederick Augustus Wolf published a modest octavo volume\nentitled \"Prolegomena to Homer,\" from whose appearance is dated the\nbeginning of a new era of historic criticism. The composition of the\npoems of Homer formed its subject. For wellnigh twenty years the author\nhad collected evidence, weighed arguments, and patiently tested his\nresults by constant revision. His own wishes were engaged on the side of\nthe unity of the great Grecian epic. But the results of his researches\ncontinued to point in the opposite direction, and at last his earnest\ndevotion to truth compelled him to adopt a theory the soundness of whose\nconstruction seemed to be no longer questionable. He was thus worthy\nto become the \"founder of the science of philology in its present\nsignificance.\" ** The influence of Wolfs discovery was not confined to\nthe study of classic literature only.\n\n     * \"In the estimation of the people for whom these books were\n     written, the capital, essential point surely was, not the\n     historic narrative, but rather legislation and religious\n     edification.\" (Noldeke, 'Histoire Litte'raire de l'Ancien\n     Testament,' p. 19.)\n\n     ** Bonitz, \"Ueber den Ursprung der Homerischen Gedichte.\"\n\nIt quickly radiated through every department of history. \"In every\nsinging age,\" he said, \"a single saeculum is almost like a single man.\nIt is all one mind, one soul.\"* This conception involved a new social\nlaw, and radically altered the current opinions concerning the relation\nof individual effort to the larger forces that affect the development\nof nations. The creative energy of remarkable minds was not, indeed,\nlessened in importance, but spontaneity, in this connection, acquired\na new meaning; and for the _Deus ex machina_ of the olden time\nwas substituted the cumulative force of centuries of progressive\nadvancement, culminating, it is true, at last in the triumphant\nsynthesis of genius. The commotion which the Wolfian theory has stirred\nup in the literary world is largely due to the wide range of ideas\nwhich it affected. Yet it was itself but a part of that general movement\nwhich, toward the close of the last century, became conspicuous in its\neffects on every field of human inquiry. Everywhere the shackles of\nauthority were thrown off, and, in place of blindly accepting the\ntestimony of the past, men turned to investigate for themselves. A new\nprinciple of research was everywhere acknowledged, a new method\nwas created, and science, natural and historical, entered upon that\nastonishing career of discovery whose rich promise for the future we\nhave but begun to anticipate.**\n\n     * In a letter given in Kttrte's \"Leben und Studien F. A\n     Wolf s.\" i., p. 307.\n\n     ** Scientific pursuits are distinguished from others, not by\n     the material, but by the method of knowledge. The mere\n     collection of data, however multiplied in detail, however\n     abstruse the subjects to which they may refer, does not of\n     itself deserve the name of science. The term properly\n     applies only when phenomena are placed in causal relation,\n     and the laws which govern their development are traced.\n     Measured by this standard, every attempt to explain the\n     growth of human thought and institutions, and to elucidate\n     the laws which have acted in the process of their evolution,\n     has a just claim to be classed under the head of scientific\n     inquiry.\n\nTo the impetus given by Wolf, and to the new-born spirit of science\nwhich he carried into the sphere of philology, we owe among other\nvaluable results the beginnings of a more critical inquiry into the\nrecords of the ancient Hebrew religion. Indeed, the author of the\n\"Prolegomena\" himself clearly foresaw the influence which his book was\ndestined to exert on Hebrew studies. In a letter, from which we have\nalready quoted above, he says: \"The demonstration that the Pentateuch is\nmade up of unequal portions, that these are the products of different\ncenturies, and that they were put together shortly after the time of\nSolomon, may, ere long, be confidently expected. I should myself be\nwilling to undertake such an argument without fear, for nowhere do we\nfind any ancient witness to guarantee the authorship of the Pentateuch\nto Moses himself.\"*\n\n     * Letter in Korte's \"Leben und Studien F. A. Wolf,\" i., p.\n     309.\n\nThe prediction embodied in these words soon came true. A host of\ncompetent scholars took up the study of the Hebrew Bible, and, profiting\nby Wolf's example and suggestions, applied to its elucidation the same\ncareful methods, the same scrupulous honesty of interpretation, that had\nproved so successful in the realm of classical philology. Theologians\nby profession, they set aside their predilections, and placed the\nascertainment of the truth above all other interests. They believed in\nthe indestructible vitality of religion, and were willing to admit the\nfull light of criticism upon the scriptural page, confident that any\nloss would be temporary only, the gain permanent. In the course of\ntheir researches they arrived, among others, at the following important\nconclusions:\n\nThat the editor of the Pentateuch had admitted into his volume several\naccounts touching the main facts of early Hebrew history; that these\naccounts are often mutually at variance; that minute analysis and\ncareful comparison alone can lead to an approximately true estimate\nof their comparative value; and, lastly, that the transmission of\nhistorical information had in no wise been the object of the Hebrew\nwriters. The history of their people served, it is true, to illustrate\ncertain of their doctrines concerning the divine government of the\nworld, and especially the peculiar relations of the Deity to the chosen\nrace; but it was employed much in the sense of a moral tale, being\ndesigned, not to convey facts, but to enforce lessons. Had the\nacceptance of any particular scheme of Hebrew history been deemed\nessential to the integrity of religious belief, the Bible, they argued,\nwould certainly not have included discrepant accounts of that history in\nits pages. In the light of this new insight, it seemed advisable to draw\na distinction between the biblical narrative proper and the doctrines\nwhich it was designed to illustrate. The latter belong to the province\nof faith, and their treatment may be left to the expounders of faith.\nThe former is a department of general history, and in dealing with it\nwe are at liberty to apply the same canons of criticism that obtain in\nevery other department, without fearing to trespass upon sacred ground.\nIt is our purpose in the following pages to present some of the\nmore interesting results that have been reached in the study of the\nPentateuch, so far as they illustrate the evolution of religious ideas\namong the Hebrews. We shall begin by summarizing a few instances of\ndiscrepant testimony to introduce our subject, and, in particular, to\nshow how little the ordinary purposes of history have been considered\nin the composition of the biblical writings; how little the bare\ntransmission of facts was an object with the sacred authors.*\n\nThe Scriptures open with two divergent accounts of the creation. In\nGenesis i., the work of creation proceeds in two grand movements,\nincluding the formation of inanimate and animate Nature respectively.**\nOn the first day a diffused light is spread out over chaos. Then are\nmade the firmament, the dry earth, the green herbs, and fruit-bearing\ntrees; on the fourth day the great luminaries are called into being; on\nthe fifth, the fishes and birds of the air; on the sixth, the beasts of\nthe field; and, lastly, crowning all, man, his Maker's masterpiece. The\nhuman species enters at once upon its existence _as a pair_. \"Male and\nfemale did he create them.\" In the second chapter the same methodical\narrangement, the same deliberate progress from the lower to the\nhigher forms of being, is not observed. Man, his interests and\nresponsibilities, stand in the foreground of the picture. The trees of\nthe field are not made until after Adam; and, subsequently to them,\nthe cattle and beasts. Moreover, man is a solitary being. A comparison\nbetween his lonely condition and the dual existence of the remainder\nof the animal world leads the Deity to determine upon the creation of\nwoman. A profound slumber then falls upon Adam, a rib is taken from\nhis side, and from it Eve is fashioned.* We may observe that the\nname Jehovah, as appertaining to the Deity, is employed in the second\nchapter, while it is scrupulously avoided in the first. The recognition\nof this distinction has led to further discoveries of far-reaching\nimportance, but too complicated in their nature to be here detailed.\nThe conflicting statements of the two accounts, which we have just\nindicated, have induced scholars to regard them as the work of different\nwriters. In Genesis iv. we learn that in the days of Enoch, Adam's\ngrandson, men began to call on the name of Jehovah; in Exodus vi, on\nthe contrary, that the name Jehovah was first revealed to Moses, being\nunknown even to the patriarchs.\n\n     * Many of the following examples are familiarly known. A\n     few, however, are drawn from recent investigations. Compare,\n     especially, Kuenen, \"The Religion of Israel.\"\n\n     ** Tuch's \"Genesis,\" p. 3, second edition, Halle, 1871.\n\nGen. xvi., Hagar is driven from her home by the jealousy of her\nmistress; escapes into the desert; beholds a vision of God at a well in\na wilderness. Gen. xxi., the flight of Hagar is related a second time.\nThe general scheme of the narrative is the same as above; but there\nare important divergencies of detail. As narrated in chapter xvi., the\nescape took place immediately before the birth of Ishmael. Fifteen years\nelapsed,** and Ishmael, now approaching the years of maturity, is once\nmore driven forth from the house of Abraham. But, to our surprise, in\nchapter xxi. the lad is described as a mere infant; he is carried on\nhis mother's shoulders, and laid away, like a helpless babe, under some\nbushes by the wayside. It appears that we have before us two accounts\ntouching the same event, agreeing in the main incidents of the escape,\nbut showing a disagreement of fifteen years as to the date of its\noccurrence. The narratives are distinguished as above by the employment\nof different names of the Deity: Jehovah in the one instance, Elohim in\nthe other.\n\n     * For an account of the close analogy between the biblical\n     narration and the Persian story of Meshja and Meshjane,\n     their temptation and fall, vide ibid. p. 40. It is of\n     special importance to note that reference to the account of\n     Genesis ii. is made only in the later literature of the\n     Hebrews, ibid., p. 42.\n\n     ** Gen. xvii. 25. In quoting from the Old Testament, we\n     follow the order of the Hebrew text.\n\nGen. xxxii., Jacob at the fords of Jabbok, after wrestling during the\nnight with a divine being, receives the name of Israel. Gen. xxxv.,\nwithout reference to the previous account, the name Israel is conferred\nupon Jacob at a different place and under different circumstances.\n\nGen. xlix., the dispersion of the Levites among the tribes is\ncharacterized as a punishment and a curse. They are to be forever\nhomeless and fugitive. Deuteronomy xxxiii. and elsewhere, it is\ndescribed as a blessing. The Levites have been scattered as good seed\nover the land. They are apostles, commissioned to propagate Jehovah's\nlaw.\n\nPassing on to the second book of the Pentateuch, we pause before the\naccount of the Revelation on Mount Sinai, beyond a doubt the most\nimportant event of Israel's ancient history. Exodus xxiv. 2, Moses alone\nis to approach the divine presence. Exod. xix. 24, Aaron is to accompany\nhim. Exod. xxiv. 13, Aaron is to remain below and Joshua is to go in\nhis stead. Again, Exod. xxxiii. 20, instant death will overtake him\nwho beholds God. Exod. xxiv. 9-11, Moses, Aaron, two of his sons, and\nseventy elders of Israel \"ascended, and they saw the God of Israel....\nAlso, they saw God, and did eat and drink.\" Once more, Exod. xxiv. 4-7,\nMoses himself writes down the words of revelation in a book of covenant.\nExod. xxiv. 12, not Moses but God writes them; and, elsewhere, \"Two\ntables of stone inscribed by the finger of God.\"\n\nExod. xx. enjoins the observance of the sabbath-day as a memorial of\nthe repose of the Maker of heaven and earth on the sabbath of creation.\nDeut. v., the fourth commandment is enjoined because of the redemption\nof Israel from Egyptian bondage. Exod. xxxiv., a new version of the\ndecalogue, differing in most respects from the one commonly received,\nis promulgated.* The first commandment is to worship no strange god;\nthe second, to make no graven images; the third, to observe the feast\nof unleavened bread; the fourth, to deliver the first-born unto Jehovah;\nthe fifth, to observe the sabbath, etc.\n\n     * Compare De Wette's \"Einleitung in das alte Testament\"\n     (Schrader's edition), p. 286, note 53.\n\nIn Exod. xx. we read that the guilt of the fathers will be avenged upon\nthe children down even to the third and fourth generation; in Deut.\nxxiv., the children shall not die for their fathers. Every one for his\nown sin shall die.\n\nIn Deut. xxv. the marrying of a deceased brother's wife is under certain\nconditions enjoined as a duty. In Levit. xviii. it is unconditionally\nprohibited as a crime.\n\nExod. xxxiii., Moses removes the tabernacle beyond the camp. Num. ii.,\nthe tabernacle rests in the very heart of the camp, with all the tribes\nof Israel grouped round about it, according to their standards and\ndivisions.\n\nNum. xvi., the sons of Korah, the leader of the great Leviti-cal\nsedition, perish with their father. Num. xxvi., the sons of Korah do not\nperish.*\n\nOf the forty years which the Israelites are said to have dwelt in the\ndesert, not more than two are covered by the events of the narrative.\nThe remainder are wrapped in dense obscurity. There is, however, a\nsignificant fact which deserves mention in this connection. The death\nof Aaron marks, as it were, the close of Israel's journey. Now, while in\nNum. xxxiii. the death of the high-priest is described as occurring in\nthe fortieth year, in Deut. x. it is actually referred to the second\nyear of the Exodus.**\n\n     * Num. xxvi. 11. Indeed, had the sons of Korah and every\n     human being related to him perished, as Num. xvi. avers, how\n     could we account for the fact that Korah's descendants\n     filled high offices in the Temple at Jerusalem later on?\n     The celebrated singer, Heman, himself was a lineal\n     descendant of Korah. To the descendants of Korah also are\n     ascribed the following Psalms: Ps. xlii., xliv.-xlix.,\n     lxxxiv., lxxxv., lxxxvii., lxxxviii.\n\n     ** In connection with this subject it is of interest to\n     compare Goethe's argument in the \"Westoslicher Divan\" on the\n     duration of the desert journey. Here, as in so many other\n     instances, the intuitive perception of the great poet\n     anticipated the tardy results of subsequent investigation.\n\nA brief digression beyond the borders of the Pentateuch will show that\nthe conflict of testimony which we have thus far noticed, affecting as\nit does some of the leading events of ancient Hebrew history, does not\ndiminish as we proceed in the narrative. In I Samuel vii. it is said\nthat the Philistines ceased to harass the land of Israel all the days of\nSamuel. Immediately thereupon we read of new Philistine incursions more\ndireful than ever in their consequences.* The popular proverb, \"Is Saul\namong the prophets?\" is variously explained, I Sam. x. and xix. Two\ndiscrepant accounts are given of Saul's rejection from the kingdom, I\nSam. xiii. and xv.; of David's introduction to Saul, i Sam. xvi. and\nxvii. The charming story of David's encounter with the giant Goliath\ntold in I Sam. xvii. is contradicted in 2 Sam. xxi. 19, where, not\nDavid, but some person otherwise unknown to fame, is reported to\nhave slain the giant Goliath, and also the time, place, and attendant\ncircumstances, are differently related.**\n\n     * Compare 1 Sam. vii. 13, and 1 Sam. xiii. 19.\n\n     ** In 1 Chron. xx. 5, we read, \"the brother of Goliath.\" The\n     purpose of the change is clear, and accords well with the\n     apologetical tendencies of the author of Chronicles. Vide De\n     Wette, \"Einleitung,\" etc., p. 370.    Geiger, \"Urschrift.\"\n\nIt thus appears that the compiler of the Pentateuch has admitted a\nvariety of views, not only on the ancient history of his people, but\nalso on the general subject of religion and morals, into his work; and\nthat the discordant opinions of diverse authors and of diverse stages of\nhuman progress are reflected in its pages. It is the monument of a grand\nreligious movement extending over many centuries of gradual development.\nIt is the image of a nation's struggles and growth. As contained in the\nbooks of the Pentateuch, the Mosaic religion is a religious mosaic.\n\nIn the foregoing sketch we have observed how deep a mist of uncertainty\nhangs over the earliest period, the golden age of the history of the\nHebrews. All is in a state of flux, and what appeared compact and\ncoherent at a distance yields to our touch upon closer contact. To gain\n_terra firma_ let us turn to the period which immediately succeeded the\nsettlement of the Israelites in Palestine; a period in which the outline\nof historical events begins to assume a more definite and tangible\nshape.\n\nIt was a dismal and sorrowful age. The bonds of social order were\nloosened; the current conceptions of the Deity and the rites of his\nworship were gross and often degrading. Mutual jealousies kindled the\nfirebrand of war among the contending clans. Almost the whole tribe of\nBenjamin was extirpated. Abimelech slew seventy princes upon one stone.\nLust and treachery ran riot. A wilder deed has never been chronicled in\nthe annals of mankind than that related in chapter xix. of Judges,\nnor ever has a terrible deed been more terribly avenged. Now, looking\nbackward, we ask, Is it to be believed that in the fourteenth century B.\nC. not only the leader of Israel, but also their elders, their priests,\nnay, large numbers of the very populace, shared in the most exalted,\nthe most spiritual conceptions of God, and nourished the most refined\nsentiments in regard to human relationships, while immediately\nthereupon, and centuries thereafter, violence and bloodshed, and\nidolatry, do not cease from the records? It has been argued, indeed,\nthat the worship of idols was but a _relapse_ from the purity of a\npreceding age; and that, though the tradition of the Mosaic time may\nhave been lost in the succeeding period among the people at large, it\nwas still preserved in the circle of a select few, the judges, King\nDavid, and others. These, it is believed, continued to remain faithful\ndisciples of the great lawgiver. But these very men, the judges--King\nDavid himself--all fall immeasurably below the standard that is set up\nin the Pentateuch. If they were esteemed the true representatives of\nthe national religion in their day, if the very points in which they\ntransgressed the provisions of the Mosaic code are distinguished by\nthe approval of God and man, we are forced to conclude that that\nstandard--by which they stand condemned--did not yet exist; that, in\nthe days of David, the laws of Moses, as we now have them; were as yet\nunwritten and unknown. Let us illustrate this important point by a few\nexamples taken from the records. Gideon no sooner returns from victory\nthan he makes a golden idol and sets it up for worship. Jephthah\nslays his daughter as an offering of thanksgiving to Jehovah. In\nthe Pentateuch the adoration of images is branded as the gravest of\noffences. David keeps household gods in his own home (Sam. xix). In the\nPentateuch, on its opening page, God is proclaimed as a pure spirit,\nmaker of heaven and earth. In the eyes of David (1 Sam, xxvi. 19), the\nsway of Jehovah does not extend beyond the borders of Palestine.* In the\nPentateuch the ark of the covenant is described as the treasury of all\nthat is brightest and best in the worship of the one God. None but\nthe consecrated priest dare approach it, and even he only under\ncircumstances calculated to inspire peculiar veneration and awe. In 2\nSam. vi., David abandons the ark to the keeping of a heathen Philistine.\nIn an early age of culture, when fear and terror in the presence of\nsuperior force entered largely into the religious conceptions of\nthe Hebrews, the taking of the census was deemed an act of grave\ntransgression. It appeared a vaunting of one's strength; it seemed to\nindicate a defiant attitude toward the loftier power of the Deity, which\nhe would certainly visit with condign punishment. At a later period the\npriesthood found it in their interest to override these scruples, and\nthe taking of the census became an affair of habitual occurrence. In\nthe last chapter of Samuel the more primitive view still predominated.\nSeventy thousand Israelites are miserably slain to atone for King\nDavid's presumption in commanding a census of the people. In the fourth\nbook of Moses, on the other hand, the numbering of the people not only\nproceeds without the slightest evil resulting therefrom, but at the\nexpress command of God himself.\n\nIn the book of Deuteronomy the service of Jehovah is said to consist\nmainly in the practice of righteousness, in works of kindness toward our\nfellows, in sincere and holy love toward the Deity, who is represented\nas the merciful father of all his human children. Second Sam. xxi., a\nfamine comes upon the land of Israel. The anger of Jehovah is kindled\nagainst the people. To appease him, David offers sacrifice--human\nsacrifice. The seven sons of Saul are slain, and their bodies kept\nexposed on the hill, \"in sight of Jehovah,\" and the horrid offering _is\naccepted_, and the divine wrath is thereby pacified.** Truly, in the age\nof in the beginning of the barley-harvest. This circumstance seems to\nthrow light on the primitive mode of celebrating the Passover. That the\nrite of human sacrifice was originally connected with this festival is\ngenerally acknowledged. Vide, e. g., Exod. xiii., 2. By such offerings\nit was intended, no doubt, to secure the favor of the god during the\ncontinuance of the harvest.\n\n     * Banishment being described as a transfer of allegiance to\n     strange gods.\n\n     ** It is important to note that the seven sons of Saul were\n     sacrificed\n\nDavid, the Hebrews were far, far removed from the high state of culture\nin which the ideal conception of religion that pervades Deuteronomy\nbecame possible. And long after, when centuries had gone by and the\nkingdom of Judah was already approaching its dissolution, the direful\npractices of David's reign still survived, and the root of idolatry had\nnot been plucked from the heart of the people. Still do we hear of human\nsacrifice perpetrated in the midst of Jerusalem, and steeds and chariots\ndedicated to the sun-god, and images of the Phallus, and all the\nabominations of sensual worship, filled the very Temple of Jehovah.\n\nBut in the meantime a new force had entered the current of Hebrew\nhistory. The conviction that one God, and he an all-just, almighty\nbeing, ruled the destinies of Israel, began to take root. In the eighth\ncentury B. C. authentic records prove that monotheism, as a form of\nreligious belief, obtained, at least among the more illustrious members\nof the prophetic order. We have elsewhere attempted to trace the causes\nwhich led to the rise of monotheism at this particular epoch, and can do\nno more than briefly allude to them here.\n\nWhen the mountaineers of Southern Palestine, after centuries of\nprotracted struggles, had secured the safe possession of individual\nhomes, the endearments of domestic life were invested with a sanctity in\ntheir eyes never before known. The attachment of the Hebrew toward his\noffspring was intensified; his devotion to the wife of his bosom became\npurer and more enduring. Now, the prevailing forms of Semitic religion\noutraged these feelings at every point. The gods of the surrounding\nnations were gods of pleasure and of pain; and in their worship the\nstern practices of fanatic asceticism alternated with the wildest orgies\nof sensual enjoyment. The worship of Baal Moloch demanded the sacrifice\nof children; that of the lascivious Baaltis insulted the modesty of\nwoman. The nobler spirits among the Hebrews rebelled against both these\ndemands. And, as the latter were put forth in the name of the dominant\nreligion, the inevitable conclusion followed that that religion itself\nmust be radically wrong. The spirit of opposition thus awakened was\naroused into powerful activity when, in the days of Ahab, the queen,\nsupported by an influential priesthood, determined to introduce the\nforms of Phoenician religion in Israel by measures of force. The\nroyal edicts were resisted, but for a while the rule of the stronger\nprevailed. The leaders of the opposition were compelled to flee, and,\navoiding the habitations of men, to take refuge in wild and solitary\nplaces. Thus the rupture was widened into schism, and persecution\ninflamed the zeal and kindled the energies of that new order of men of\nwhom Elijah is the well-known type.\n\nThrough their agency the emotional nature of the Semitic race now found\nexpression in a form of religious worship loftier by far than any\nthat had ever arisen among men. If Baal was the embodiment of Semitic\nasceticism and Baaltis the type of sensual orgiastic passion, the\nnational God of Israel now became the type of a nobler emotion, the\nguardian of domestic purity, the source of sanctity, the ideal Father.\nIt is indeed the image of a just patriarch that fills the mind and\nwings the fancy of the eldest prophets, when they describe the nature of\nJehovah, their God. Jehovah is the husband of the people. Israel shall\nbe his true and loyal spouse. The children of Israel are his children.\nUnchastity and irreligion are synonymous terms. And thus, if we err not,\nthe peculiar feature of Hebrew character, their faithful attachment\nto kith and kin, the strength and purity of their domestic affections,\nserves to explain the peculiar character, the origin and development\nof the Hebrew religion. And because the essential elements of the new\nreligion were moral elements it could not tolerate the Nature-worship of\nthe heathens: and the way was prepared for the gradual ascendency of\nthe purely spiritual in religion, which after ages of gradual progress\nconstituted the last, the lasting triumph of prophecy.\n\nAfter ages of development! For we are not to suppose that, in the\ncenturies succeeding Hosea, the doctrines of the prophetic schools had\nbecome in any sense the property of the people at large. \"The powers\nthat be\" were arrayed against them, and the annals of the kings are\nreplete with evidence of their sufferings. It was in the late reign\nof Josiah that they at last received not only the countenance of the\nreigning monarch, but also a decisive influence upon the direction of\naffairs. In that reign a scroll was found in the temple imbued with the\ndoctrine of the unity of God, and breathing the vigorous spirit of the\nprophets. In it was emphasized the heart's religion in preference to the\nempty ceremonial of priestly worship. The allegiance of the people was\ndirected toward the God who had elected them from among the nations of\nthe earth, and dire disaster was predicted in case of disobedience.\nWhen brought to the king and read in his presence, he was powerfully\naffected, and determined, if possible, to stem the tide of impending\nruin by such salutary measures of reform as the injunctions of the\nnewly-found Scripture seemed most urgently to call for. The concurrence\nof many critics has identified this scroll, written and published at or\nabout the time when the youthful Josiah succeeded to the throne of his\nancestors, with Deuteronomy, the fifth of the books of Moses. It differs\nmaterially from the more recent writings of the Pentateuch. The family\nof Aaron are not yet exclusively endowed with the priesthood. The\npriests are all Levites, the Levites all priests. There are, moreover,\nother vital differences, into which the limits of this article do not\npermit us to enter.* The date of the composition of Deuteronomy is thus\nreferred to the closing decades of the seventh century B. C.**\n\n     * E. G., the rebellion of Korah is unknown to the author of\n     Deuteronomy.\n\n     ** The language of Deuteronomy attests its late origin.\n     Sixty-six phrases of Deuteronomy recur in the writings of\n     Jeremiah. Vide Zunz, Zeitschrift der Deutschen\n     Morgenlandischen Gesellschaft, xxviii., p. 670.\n\nThe princes who succeeded Josiah fell back into the old course, and\nquite undid the work which had begun with such fair promise. Indeed,\nlittle permanent good was to be hoped for in so disordered a condition\nof political affairs, and from the degenerate rulers who then swayed\nthe helm of state. The fortunes of the kingdom of Judah were swiftly\ndeclining, and not fully a quarter of a century after the pious Josiah\nhad breathed his last, Nebuchadnezzar burned the Temple of Jerusalem,\nand carried its inhabitants captive to Babylon.\n\nHeretofore, with but a brief, brilliant interlude, idolatry had been\nthe court religion of Judah. Early training, long usage, the example of\nrevered ancestors, had endeared its forms and symbols to the affections\nof the people. Resistance to the innovating prophets was natural; men\nbeing then, as ever, loath to abandon the sacred usages which had come\ndown to them from the distant generations of the past. But, in the long\nyears of the captivity, a profound change came over the spirit of\nthe Hebrew people; \"by Babel's streams they sat and wept;\" by Babel's\nstreams they recalled the memories of their native land, that land which\nthey had lost. It was then that the voices of Jehovah's messengers,\nwhich had so earnestly warned them of the approaching doom, recurred to\ntheir startled recollection. They remembered the message; they beheld\nits fulfillment; the testimony of the prophets had been confirmed by\nevents; the one God to whom they testified had revealed his omnipotence\nin history; and with ready assent the exiles promised allegiance to his\ncommandments in the future. The love of country, the dread of further\nchastisement, the dear hope of restoration, combined to win them to\nthe purer worship of their God, and, in the crucible of Babylon, the\nnational religion was purged of the last dregs of heathendom.\n\nWith the permission of Cyrus, the Jews returned to Palestine and the\nTemple at Jerusalem was rebuilt. The question now arose in what\nforms the ceremonial of the new sanctuary should be conducted. The\ntime-honored festivals, the solemn and joyful convocations, the\nsacrifices and purifications of the olden time, were all more or\nless infected with the taint of paganism. Prophecy would have none of\nthem--prophecy, free child of genius, contemned sacrifice, denounced the\npriesthood, even the temple and its ritual;* proclaimed humbleness and\nloving-kindness as the true service in which Jehovah takes delight.\nThere was formalism on the one hand, idealism on the other. As is\nusual in such cases, when the time had arrived for turning theory into\npractice, it was found necessary to effect a compromise.\n\n     * Jeremiah vii. 4; Isaiah lxvi. 1; Micah vi. 6.\n\nAs Christianity in later days adopted the yule-tree into its system, and\nlit the lamps of the heathen festival of the 25th of December in honor\nof the nativity of its founder, so the leaders of the Jews, in the fifth\ncentury before our era, adopted the feasts and usages of an ancient\nNature-worship, breathed into them a new spirit informed them with a\nloftier meaning, and made them tokens, symbols of the eternal God. The\nold foes were thus reconciled; priesthood and prophecy joined hands, and\nwere thenceforth united. As an offspring of this union, we behold a new\ncode of laws and prescriptions, whose marked and inharmonious features\nat once betray the dual nature of its progenitors. \"A rough preliminary\ndraft, as it were,\" of this code, is preserved in the book of Ezekiel,\ncomposed probably about the middle of the fifth century. In its finished\nand final shape, it forms the bulk of a still later work--of Leviticus,\nnamely the third of the books of the Pentateuch: of all the discoveries\nof criticism none more noteworthy, none we are permitted to consider\nmore assured. What lends additional certainty to the result is the\ncircumstance that it was reached independently by two of the most\nesteemed scholars of our day, the one a Professor of Theology in the\nUniversity of Leyden,* the other a veteran of thought, whose brow is\nwreathed by the ripe honors of more than fourscore years.** Let us\nbriefly advert to the line of argument by which this astonishing\nconclusion was reached:\n\n     * Prof. A. Kuenen.\n\n     ** The venerable Dr. Zunz, of Berlin.\n\nThe author of the book of Ezekiel was a priest, and one confessedly\nloyal to the sanctuary of Jerusalem. Now, had the laws of the Levitical\ncode, which minutely describe the ritual of that sanctuary, existed, or\nbeen regarded as authoritative in his day, he could not, would not have\ndisregarded, much less contradicted, their provisions. He does this,\nand, be it remarked, in points of capital importance. In chapter xlv.\nof Ezekiel are mentioned the great festivals, with the sacrifices\nappropriate to each; but the feast of Pentecost, commanded in Leviticus,\nis entirely omitted; also that of the eighth day of tabernacles. The\nsecond of the daily burnt-offerings, upon which the legislator of the\nfourth book of Moses dwells with such marked emphasis, is not commanded.\nThe order of sacrifices appointed in Ezekiel is at variance with that in\nthe more recent code. Ezekiel nowhere mentions the ark of the covenant.\nAccording to him, the new year begins on the tenth of the seventh month,\nwhile the festival of the trumpets, ordained in Leviticus for the first\nof that month (the present new year of the Jews), is nowhere referred\nto. We are not to suppose, however, that the festivals, the ark, etc.,\ndid not yet exist in the time of Ezekiel. They existed, no doubt,\nbut were still too intimately associated with pagan customs and\nsuperstitions to receive or merit the countenance of a prophetic writer.\nIn Leviticus the process of assimilation above described had reached its\nclimax. The new meaning had been successfully engrafted upon the\nrites and symbols of the olden time; and they were thenceforth freely\nemployed. The legislation of the Levitical code exhibits the familiar\nfeatures which in every instance mark the ascendency or consolidation of\nthe hierarchical order. The lines of gradation and distinction between\nthe members of the order among themselves are precisely drawn and\nstrictly adhered to. The prerogatives of the whole order as against the\npeople are fenced about with stringent laws. The revenues of the order\nare largely increased. In the older code of Deuteronomy, the annual\ntithes were set apart for a festival occasion, and given over to the\nenjoyment of the people. In the new code, the hierarchy claims the\ntithes for its own use. New taxes are invented. The best portions of\nthe sacrificial animal are reserved for the banquets of the Temple.\nThe first-born of men and cattle belong to the priesthood, and must be\nransomed by the payment of a sum of money. In no period prior to the\nfifth century B. C. was the hierarchy powerful enough to design such\nlaws. At that time, however, when in the absence of a temporal sovereign\nthey, with the high-priest at their head, were the acknowledged rulers\nof the state, they were both prepared to conceive and able to carry\nthem into effect. The language of Leviticus contributes not a little to\nbetray its late origin.* The period in the history of the Jews, when\nthe fear of taking the name of the Lord in vain induced men to avoid,\nif possible, mentioning it at all. We find ha Shem in the above sense in\nLev. xxiv. 11. authorship of Moses attributed to the Levitical code is\nsymbolical. The name of Moses is utterly unknown to the elder prophets.\n\n     * To mention only a single instance, ha Shem (meaning the\n     name, i. e. the ineffable name of God) was not employed\n     until very late.\n\nIn all their manifold writings it does not occur a single time, though\nthey make frequent reference to the past. There can now be little doubt\nthat the composition of the bulk of Leviticus, and of considerable\nportions of the books of Numbers, Exodus, and even parts of Genesis,\nbelongs to the epoch of the second Temple, and that the date of these\nwritings may be approximately fixed at about one thousand years after\nthe time of Moses. As to the story of Israel's desert wanderings, it\nrests upon ancient traditions whose character it is not our present\nbusiness to investigate. It was successively worked up in various\nschools of priests and prophets, and this accounts for the host of\ndiscrepancies it contains, some of which have been noticed in the\nbeginning of this essay. It was finally amplified by the inventive\ngenius of the second-Temple priesthood, who succeeded in heightening the\nsanctity of their own institutions by tracing them back to a revered,\nheroic person, who had lived in the dim days of remote antiquity.\n\nIn the preceding pages we have indicated the more important phases of\nthat conflict which ended in the establishment of monotheism, a conflict\nwhose traces, though sometimes barely legible, are still preserved\nin our records. We saw in the first instance that the Mosaic age is\nshrouded in uncertainty. We pointed out that pure monotheism was unknown\nin the time of the early kings. We briefly referred to the rise of\nmonotheism. Finally, we endeavored to show how the prophetic idea had\nbeen successively expressed in various codes, each corresponding to a\ncertain stage in the great process of evolution. From what we have said,\nit follows that the prophetic ideal of religion is the root and core\nof all that is valuable in the Hebrew Bible. The laws, rites, and\nobservances, in which it found a temporary and changeful expression,\nmay lose their vitality; it will always continue to exert its high\ninfluence. It was not the work of one man, nor of a single age, but was\nreached in the long course of generations on generations, evolved amid\nerror and vice, slowly, and against all the odds of time. It has been\nsaid that the Bible is opposed to the theory of evolution. The Bible\nitself is a prominent example of evolution in history. It is not\nhomogeneous in all its parts. There are portions filled with tales of\nhuman error and fallibility. These are the incipient stages of an early\nage--the dark and dread beginnings. There are others thrilling with\nnoblest emotion, freighted with eternal truths, breathing celestial\nmusic. These are the triumph and the fruition of a later day. It is\nthus by discriminating between what is essentially excellent and what\nis comparatively valueless that we shall best reconcile the discordant\nclaims of reason and of faith. The Bible was never designed to convey\nscientific information, nor was it intended to serve as a text-book of\nhistory. In its ethical teachings lies its true significance. On them it\nmay fairly rest its claims to the immortal reverence of mankind.\n\nThere was a time in the olden days of Greece when it was demanded that\nthe poems of Homer should be removed from the schools, lest the minds of\nthe young might be poisoned by the weeds of superstitious belief. Plato,\nthe poet-philosopher, it was who urged this demand. That time is past.\nThe tales of the gods and heroes have long since ceased to entice our\ncredulity. The story of Achilles's wrath and the wanderings of the sage\nUlysses are not believed as history, but the beauty and freshness and\nthe golden poetry of the Homeric epic have a reality all their own, and\nare a delight and a glory now, as they have ever been before. The Bible\nalso is a classical book. It is the classical book of noble ethical\nsentiment. In it the mortal fear, the overflowing hope, the quivering\nlongings of the human soul toward the better and the best, have found\ntheir first, their freshest, their fittest utterance. In this respect it\ncan never be superseded.\n\nTo Greek philosophy we owe the evolution of the logical categories; to\nHebrew prophecy, the pure canon of moral principle and action. That\nthis result was the outcome of a long process of suffering and struggle\ncannot diminish its value in our estimation. When we compare the\ndegrading offices of the Hebrew religion in the days of the judges with\nthe lofty aspirations of the second Isaiah, when we remember the utter\nabyss of moral abasement from which the nobler spirits of the Hebrews\nrose to the free heights of prophecy, our confidence in the divine\npossibilities of the human soul is reinvigorated, our emulation is\nkindled, and from the great things already accomplished we gather the\ncheering promise of the greater things that are yet to come. It is in\nthis moral incentive that the practical value of the evolutionary theory\nchiefly lies.*\n\n     * Most aptly has this thought been expressed in the lines\n     with which Goethe welcomed the appearance of F. A. Wolfs\n     \"Prolegomena.\"\n\n     \"Erst die Gesundheit des Mannes, der, endhch vom Namen\n     Homeros Kuhn uns befreiend, uns auch flihrt in die vollere\n     Bahn. Denn wer wagte mit Gettern den Kampf? und wer mit dem\n     Einen?--Doch Homeride zu seyn, auch nur als letzter, ist\n     schon.\"\n\n     The Elegy of Hermann und Dorothea\n\n\n\n\nII. REFORMED JUDAISM.\n\nThe Jews are justly called a peculiar people. During the past three\nthousand years they have lived apart from their fellow-men, in a state\nof voluntary or enforced isolation. The laws of the Pentateuch directed\nthem to avoid contact with heathens. Christianity in turn shunned\nand execrated them. Proud and sensitive by nature, subjected to every\nspecies of humiliation and contempt, they retired upon themselves, and\ncontinued to be what the seer from Aram had described them in the olden\ntime, \"A people that dwells in solitude.\"* It followed that, in the\nprogress of time, idiosyncrasies of character were developed, and\nhabits of thinking and feeling grew up amongst them, which could not but\ncontribute to alienate them still more from the surrounding world. They\nfelt that they were not understood. They were too shy to open their\nconfidence to their oppressors. They remained an enigma. At wide\nintervals books appeared purporting to give an account of the Jews and\ntheir sacred customs. But these attempts were, in the main, dictated by\nno just or generous motive. Their authors, narrow bigots or renegades\nfrom Judaism, ransacked the vast literature of the Hebrew people for\nsuch scattered fragments as might be used to their discredit, and\nexhibited these as samples of Jewish manners and Jewish religion.\nThe image thus presented, it is needless to say, was extremely\nuntrustworthy. And yet the writings of these partial judges have\nremained almost the only sources from which even many modern writers are\naccustomed to draw their information. The historian is yet to come who\nwill dispel the dense mists of prejudice that have gathered about Jewish\nhistory, and reveal the inward life of this wonderful people, whose\nperennial freshness has been preserved through so many centuries of\nthe most severe trials and persecution. In one respect, indeed, let us\nhasten to add, the popular judgment concerning the Jews has never been\ndeceived.\n\n     * Numbers xxiii. 9.\n\nThe intense conservatism in religion for which they have become\nproverbial is fully confirmed by facts. There exists no other race of\nmen that has approved its fidelity to religious conviction for an equal\nperiod, under equal difficulties, and amid equal temptations. Antiochus,\nTitus, Firuz, Reccared, Edward I. of England, Philip Augustus of France,\nFerdinand of Spain, exhausted the resources of tyranny in vain to shake\ntheir constancy. Their power of resistance rose with the occasion that\ncalled it forth; and their fervid loyalty to the faith transmitted to\nthem by the fathers never appeared to greater, advantage than when it\ncost them their peace, their happiness, and their life to maintain\nit. Since the close of the last century, however, a great change has\napparently come over the Jewish people. Not only have they abandoned\ntheir former attitude of reserve and mingled freely with their\nfellow-citizens of whatever creed, not only have they taken a leading\npart in the great political revolutions that swept over Europe, but the\npassion for change, so characteristic of the age in which we live, has\nextended even to their time-honored religion; and a movement aiming at\nnothing less than the complete reformation of Judaism has arisen, and\nrapidly acquired the largest dimensions. The very fact that such a\nmovement should exist among such a people is rightly interpreted as a\nsign of the times deserving of careful and candid consideration; and\ngreat interest has accordingly been manifested of late on the subject\nof Jewish Reform. In a series of articles we shall undertake to give\na brief sketch of the origin and bearings of the movement. But before\naddressing ourselves to this task it will be necessary to review a few\nof the main causes that have enabled the Jews to perdure in history, and\nto consider the motives that impelled them to resist change so long, if\nwe would properly appreciate the process of transformation that is even\nnow taking place among them. Among the efficient forces that conduced to\nthe preservation of the Jewish people we rank highest:\n\n\n\n\nTHE PURITY OF THEIR DOMESTIC RELATIONS\n\nThe sacredness of the family tie is the condition both of the physical\nsoundness and the moral vigor of nations. The family is the miniature\ncommonwealth, upon whose integrity the safety of the larger commonwealth\ndepends. It is the seedplot of all morality. In the child's intercourse\nwith its parents the sentiment of reverence is instilled--the essence\nof all piety, all idealism; also the habit of obedience to rightful\nauthority, which forms so invaluable a feature in the character of the\nloyal citizen. In the companionship of brothers deference to the rights\nof equals is practically inculcated, without which no community could\nexist. The relations between brother and sister give birth to the\nsentiment of chivalry,--regard for the rights of the weaker,--and this\nforms the basis of magnanimity, and every generous and tender quality\nthat graces humanity. Reverence for superiors, respect for equals,\nregard for inferiors,--these form the supreme trinity of the virtues.\nWhatever is great and good in the institutions and usages of mankind\nis an application of sentiments that have drawn their first nourishment\nfrom the soil of the family. The family is the school of duties. But\nit has this distinguishing excellency, that among those who are linked\ntogether by the strong ties of affection duty is founded on love. On\nthis account it becomes typical of the perfect morality in all the\nrelations of life, and we express the noblest longings of the human\nheart when we speak of a time to come in which all mankind will be\nunited \"as one family.\" Now the preeminence of the Jews in point of\ndomestic purity will hardly be disputed. \"In this respect they stand\nout like a bold promontory in the history of the past, singular and\nunapproached,\" said the philosopher Trendelenburg.* According to the\nprovisions of the Mosaic Code, the crime of adultery is punished with\ndeath. The most minute directions are given touching the dress of the\npriests and the common people, in order to check the pruriency of fancy.\nThe scale of forbidden marriages is widely extended with the same end in\nview.\n\n     * Vide the essay on the Origin of Monotheism in Jahrbuch des\n     Vereins fur Wissenschaftliche Padagogik, Vol IX. 1877, by\n     the author of this article.\n\nAlmost the entire tribe of Benjamin is extirpated to atone for an\noutrage upon feminine virtue committed within its borders. The undutiful\nson is stoned to death in the presence of the whole people. That husband\nand wife shall become \"as one flesh,\" is a conception which we find only\namong the Jews. Among them the picture of the true housewife which is\nunrolled to us in Proverbs had its original,--the picture of her who\nunites all womanly grace and gentleness, in whose environment dwell\ncomfort and beauty, \"whose husband and sons rise up to praise her.\" The\nmarriage tie was held so sacred that it was freely used by the prophets\nto describe the relations between the Deity and the chosen people.\nJehovah is called the husband of the people. Israel shall be his true\nand loyal spouse. The children of Israel are his children. The worship\nof false gods was designated by the Hebrew word that signifies conjugal\ninfidelity. This feature of Jewish life remained equally prominent in\nlater times. In the age of the Talmud marriage was called Hillula,--a\nsong of praise! The most holy day of the year, the tenth of the seventh\nmonth, a day of fasting and the atonement of sins, was deemed a proper\noccasion to collect the young people for the purpose of choosing\nhusbands and wives. On that day the maidens of Jerusalem, arrayed in\npure white, went out into the vineyards that covered the slopes of the\nneighboring hills, dancing as they went, and singing as the bands of\nyouth came up to meet them from the valleys. \"Youth, raise now thine\neyes,\" sang the beautiful among them, \"and regard her whom thou\nchoosest.\" \"Look not to beauty,\" sang the well-born, \"but rather to\nancient lineage and high descent.\" Lastly, those who were neither\nbeautiful nor well born took up the strain, and thus they sang:\n\"Treacherous is grace, and beauty deceitful; the woman that fears God\nalone shall be praised.\" The appropriateness of such proceedings on the\nAtonement day was justified by the remark that marriage is itself an act\nof spiritual purification. The high value attached to the institution of\nthe family is further illustrated by many tender legends of the Talmud\nwhich we cannot here stop to recount. A separate gate, it is said, was\nreserved in Solomon's Temple for the use of bridegrooms, before which\nthey received the felicitations of the assembled people. The marriage\ncelebration was essentially a festival of religion. Seven days it\nlasted. The Talmudic law, usually so unbending in its exactions, relaxed\nits austerity in favor of these auspicious occasions, and recommended to\nall to rejoice with the joyful. On the Sabbath of the marriage-week, the\nyoung husband was received with peculiar honors in the synagogue, and\nthe liturgy of the mediaeval Jews is crowded with hymns composed in\nhonor of these solemn receptions. If a whole congregation thus united\nto magnify and sanctify the erection of a new home, the continued\npreservation of its sanctity might safely be left to the jealous\nwatchfulness of its inmates. Cases of sensual excess or of unfilial\nconduct have been extremely infrequent among the Jews, down to modern\ntimes. However mean the outward appearance of their homes might be,\nthe moral atmosphere that pervaded them was rarely contaminated. If\nthe question be asked, how it came about that so feeble a people could\nresist the malevolence of its foes; that a nation, deprived of any\nvisible rallying-point, with no political or religious centre to cement\ntheir union, had not long since been wiped out from the earth's surface,\nwe answer that the hearth was their rallying-point and the centre of\ntheir union. There the scattered atoms gained consistency sufficient to\nwithstand the pressure of the world. Thither they could come to recreate\ntheir torn and lacerated spirits. There was the well-spring of their\npower.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SCHOOLS.\n\nIf the Jewish people were preserved in moral vigor by the influence\nof their domestic life, the care they bestowed on the education of the\nyoung kept them intellectually fresh. Schools were erected in every town\nand country district. It was forbidden a Jew to reside in cities where\nno provision had been made for the instruction of children. Teachers\nwere called the guardians of cities. The destruction of Jerusalem was\nattributed to the fact that the schools had been suffered to fall into\nneglect. Synagogues were often used for purposes of primary instruction.\n\"A sage is greater than a prophet,\" said the proverb. To increase in\nknowledge, at least in a certain kind of knowledge, was a part of the\nJew's religion. According to the theory of the Rabbies the revelation\nof God to man is fully embodied in the books of the Old Testament,\nespecially in the books of the Pentateuch, commonly called the\nTora,--the Law. They contain, either by direct statement or by\nimplication, whatever it is necessary for men to know. They anticipate\nall future legislation. Though apparently scanty in substance, they\nare replete with suggestions of profound and inexhaustible wisdom. To\npenetrate the hidden meanings of \"the Law\" became, on this account, the\nprimary obligation of the devout; and ignorance was not only despised\non its own account, but was, in addition, branded as a sign of deficient\npiety. The ordinances of the Jewish sages are all ostensibly deduced\nfrom the words of the Sacred Law. Without such sanction no enactment of\nany later lawgiver, however salutary in itself, could aspire to general\nrecognition. The civil and criminal law, the principles of science,\nsanitary and police regulations, even the rules of courtesy and decorum,\nare alike rested on scriptural authority. The entire Talmud may be\nroughly described as an extended commentary on the Mosaic Law.* The\nauthors of the Talmud led a studious life, and relied in great measure\nupon the habit of study to preserve the vitality of their faith. Among\nthe sayings of the sages** we read such as these. Jose ben Joeser says:\n\"Let thy house be the resort of the wise, and let the dust of their feet\ncover thee, and drink in thirstily their words.\" Joshua ben Perachia\nsays: \"Get thee an instructor, gain a companion [for thy studies], and\njudge all men upon the presumption of their innocence.\" Hillel says:\n\"Who gains not in knowledge loses.... Say not, 'When I am at leisure\nI will study'; 't is likely thou wilt never be at leisure.... He who\nincreases flesh increases corruption; he who increases worldly goods\nincreases care; he who increases servants increases theft; but he who\nincreases in the knowledge of the Law increases life.\" Jochanan ben\nSakkai says: \"If thou art wise in the knowledge of the Law, take not\ncredit to thyself, for to this end wast thou created.\"\n\n     * For a concise but comprehensive account of the origin of\n     the Talmud, vide the art. Talmud in Johnson's Encyclopaedia.\n\n     ** Collected in the Tract Aboth (Fathers).\n\nAfter the destruction of the Temple by Titus, academies sacred to the\nstudy of the Law were erected in different cities of Palestine, and\nsimilar institutions flourished on the banks of the Euphrates. In the\neleventh century the chief seats of Jewish learning were transplanted\nto the West; and since that time the European Jews have excelled their\nbrethren of the East in all the elements of mental culture. In the\ncourse of their manifold wanderings the Jews carried their libraries\neverywhere with them. Wherever a synagogue arose, a school for young\nchildren and a high school for youths were connected with it. In the\ndark night of the ghetto the flame of knowledge was never quenched.\nWhile the nations of Europe were still sunk in barbarism the Jews\nzealously devoted themselves to the pursuit of medicine, mathematics,\nand dialectics, and the love of learning became an hereditary quality\nin their midst. The efforts of many generations have contributed to keep\ntheir intellectual faculties bright; and, unlike most oppressed races,\nthey have emerged from a long epoch of systematic persecution well\nfitted to attack the problems of the present with fresh interest and\nundiminished capacity.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DEMOCRATIC ORGANIZATION OF THE SYNAGOGUE.\n\nThe spirit of monotheism is essentially democratic both in politics\nand religion. There is to be but one king, and he the spiritual Lord\nin heaven. All the people are equal before him. When the Hebrews\nclamorously demanded a king the prophet charged them with treason\nagainst their proper ruler. The prophet and priest were hostile powers;\nand their antagonism was clearly felt, and sometimes energetically\nexpressed. The Lord takes no delight in the slaughter of animals. The\nbloody sacrifices are an offence to Him. What He requires is purity of\nheart, righteous judgment, and care for the widow and the fatherless.\nThe idea of priestly mediation--of mediation in any shape--was repugnant\nto the Jews. \"The whole people are priests,\" it was said. When the\nsanctuary at Jerusalem had been laid in ashes, anything resembling a\nhierarchical caste was no longer tolerated among them. The Law and\nthe Science of the Law were open to all; and each one was expected,\naccording to the measure of his capacity, to draw directly from the\nfountain-head of faith. The autonomy of the congregations was strictly\nguarded. Entire uniformity in the ritual was never achieved.* The public\nlector of prayers was called \"the delegate of the congregation.\" The\nRabbies (the word means Masters, in the sense of teachers) were men\ndistinguished for superior erudition and the blamelessness of their\nlives, and these qualities formed their only title to distinction.**\nTheir duties differed radically from those of the Catholic priest or the\nProtestant clergyman. They never took upon themselves the care of souls.\nTheir office was to instruct the young, and in general to regulate the\npractice of religion according to the principles and precedents laid\ndown in the sacred traditions of their people. The several congregations\nwere independent of each other. There were no general synods or\ncouncils, no graded hierarchy culminating in a spiritual head, no\noligarchy of ministers and elders; but rather a federation of small\ncommunities, each being a sovereign unit, and connected with the others\nsolely by the ties of a common faith, common sympathies, and common\nsufferings. Any ten men were competent to form themselves into a\ncongregation, and to discharge all the duties of religion. The fact that\nthis was so proved of the utmost consequence in preserving the integrity\nof Judaism. The Jews were parcelled out over the whole earth. The body\nof the people was again and again divided. But in every case the\nbarest handful that remained sufficed to become the nucleus of new\norganizations. Had the system of Judaism required any one central organ,\na blow aimed against this would doubtless have proved fatal to the\nwhole. But by the wise provisions of the federative system the vital\npower seems to have been equally disseminated over the entire community.\nLike the worm that is trodden under foot, to which Israel so often\nlikens itself in the Hebrew prayers, the divided members lived a new\nlife of their own, and though apparently crushed beneath the heel of\ntheir oppressors, they ever rose again in indestructible vitality.\n\n     * Vide Zunz Die Ritus.\n\n     ** Many of them supported themselves by following some\n     humble calling, refusing to receive remuneration for their\n     teachings, on the principle that the Law \"should not be made\n     a spade to dig with.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE INFLUENCE OF PERSECUTION.\n\nIn surveying the history of the Jewish people we find a strange blending\nof nationalism and cosmopolitism illustrated in their actions and\nbeliefs. They proudly styled themselves the elect people of God, they\nlooked down with a certain contempt upon the Gentile nations, yet they\nconceived themselves chosen, not on their own account, but for the\nworld's sake, in order to spread the knowledge of the true God among\nmen. They repudiated heathenism, and regarded Trinitarianism as an\naberration. In contradistinction to these their mission was to protect\nthe purity of the monotheistic religion until in the millennial age all\nnations would gather about their \"holy Mount.\" They considered their\nown continued existence as a people foreordained in the Divine scheme,*\nbecause they believed themselves divinely commissioned to bring about\nthe eternal happiness of the human race. The centripetal and centrifugal\nforces of character were thus evenly balanced, and this circumstance\ncontributed not a little to enliven their courage in the face of\nlong-continued adversity. When the independence of Greece was lost, the\nGreeks ceased to exist as a nation. But the loss of the Temple and\nthe fatherland gave barely more than a passing shock to the national\nconsciousness of the Jews. Easily they acclimatized themselves in\nevery quarter of the globe. The fact of their dispersion was cited\nby Christianity as a sign of their rejection by God. They themselves\nregarded it as a part of their mission to be scattered as seed over\nthe whole earth. That they should suffer was necessary, they being the\nMessianic people! Their prayers were filled with lamentations and the\nrecital of their cruel woes. But they invariably ended with words of\npromise and confidence in the ultimate fulfillment of Israel's hope.\nThus in the very depths of their degradation they were supported by a\nsense of the grandeur of their destinies, and by the proud consciousness\nthat their sufferings were the price paid for the world's spiritual\nredemption.\n\n     * \"Let it not seem strange to you that we should regain our\n     former condition, even though only a single one of us were\n     left, as it is written, 'Fear not, thou worm, Jacob!'\"--Juda\n     HA-Levi, in the book Cusari (twelfth century), iii. ii.\n\nIn the earlier half of the Middle Ages the Jews were still permitted to\nenjoy a certain measure of liberty. In Spain, France and Germany they\nlived on amicable terms with their neighbors, they engaged in trade and\nmanufacture, and were allowed to possess landed property. In the tenth\nand eleventh centuries a great part of the city of Paris was owned by\nJews. But at the time of the Crusades a terrible change in the aspect of\ntheir affairs took place. The principles embodied in the canonical law\nhad by this time entered into the practice of the European nations.\nFanaticism was rampant. The banks of the Rhine and the Moselle became\nthe theatre of the most pitiless persecution. Among the Crusaders the\ncry was raised, \"We go to Palestine to slay the unbelievers; why not\nbegin with the infidel Jews in our own midst?\" Worms, Spires, Mayence,\nStrassburg, Basle, Regens-burg, Breslau, witnessed the slaughter of\ntheir Jewish inhabitants. Toward the close of the thirteenth century\none hundred thousand Jews perished at the hands of Rindfleisch, and the\nmurderous hordes of whom he was the leader. To add fuel to the passions\nof the populace the most absurd accusations were brought forward against\nthem, and their religion was made odious by connecting it with charges\nof grave moral obliquity. Jewish physicians being in great request,\nespecially at the court of kings, it was given out that with fiendish\nmalice they were wont to procure the death of their Christian patients.*\nThey were accused of killing Christian children, and using the blood\nof Christians in celebrating the Passover festival, and this monstrous\nfalsehood was repeated until no one doubted its substantial truth.\nLet it be remembered that this charge was originally preferred, in a\nsomewhat different shape, against the Christians themselves. It floated\ndown, as such rumors will, from age to age, until, its authorship being\nforgotten, it was finally used as a convenient handle against the hated\nJews. In this manner the Easter-tide which was to announce the triumph\nof a religion of love became to the Jews a season of terror and mortal\nagony, and the Easter dawn was often reddened with the flames that rose\nfrom Jewish homes.\n\n     * Thus in the case of Charles the Bald, and others.\n\nIt is impossible to calculate the number of lives that have been lost\nin consequence of this single accusation. It has lived on even into the\npresent century.* In the fourteenth century the Black Death devastated\nthe Continent of Europe. Soon the opinion gained ground that the Jews\nwere responsible for the ravages of the plague. It was claimed that the\nRabbi of Toledo had sent out a venomous mixture concocted of consecrated\nwafers and the blood of Christian hearts to the various congregations,\nwith orders to poison the wells. The Pope himself undertook to plead for\ntheir innocency, but even papal bulls were powerless to stay the popular\nmadness. In Dekkendorf a church was built in honor of the massacre of\nthe Jews of that town, and the spot thus consecrated has remained a\nfavorite resort of pilgrims down to modern times. The preaching friars\nof the Franciscan and Dominican orders were particularly active in\nfanning the embers of bigotry whenever they threatened to die down. In\nEngland, France and Spain the horrors enacted in Germany were repeated\non a scale of similar magnitude. The tragic fate of the Jews of York,\nthe fury of the Pastoureaux, the miserable scenes that accompanied the\nexodus of the Jews from Spain are familiar facts of history. In Poland,\nin the seventeenth century, the uprising of the Cossacks under the\nchieftainship of Chmielnicki became once more the signal of destruction.\nIt is estimated that in ten years (1648-1658) upwards of two hundred\nand fifty thousand Jews perished.** Even when the lives of the Jews were\nspared, their condition was so extremely wretched that death might often\nhave seemed the preferable alternative.\n\n     *  In the year 1840 it was simultaneously renewed in Rhenish\n     Prussia, on the Isle of Rhodos, and in the city of Damascus.\n     In that city the most respected members of the Jewish\n     community were arrested, with the assistance of the French\n     Consul, Ratti Menton, and underwent cruel torture. The\n     intense excitement caused throughout Europe at the time is,\n     doubtless, still fresh in the memory of many who will read\n     these pages. The utter falsity of the charge was at last\n     exposed, thanks to the efforts of the Austrian Consul\n     Merlato and the energetic action of Lord Palmerston.\n\n     **  Graetz, Gesch. der Juden, X. p. 78.\n\nThe theory propounded by the Church and acted out by the temporal rulers\nof the Middle Ages is expressed in the words of Innocent III.,\n\"Quos propria culpa submisit perpetuae servituti, quum Dominum\ncrucifixerint--pietas Christiana receptet et sus-tineat cohabitationem\nillorum.\"*\n\nBy the crucifixion of Jesus the Jews had forfeited for themselves and\ntheir posterity the right to exist in Christian states. They lived on\nsufferance merely. In the feudal system there was no room for them. They\nwere aliens, were regarded as the property of the Emperor, and he was\nfree to deal with them as suited his convenience. Hence the name _servi\ncamera_--servants of the imperial chamber--was applied to them. They\ncould be sold, purchased, given away at pleasure. Charles IV. presented\n\"the persons and property of his Jews\" to the city of Worms. In a\nschedule of toll-dues dating from the year 1398 we read: \"a horse pays\ntwo shillings, a Jew six shillings, an ox two heller.\"** They were\ncompelled to wear a badge of shame upon their garments;*** were confined\nto narrow and filthy quarters,---_ghetto, juderia_,--debarred from all\nhonorable employments. The schools and universities were closed against\nthem. The guilds shut them out from the various trades. To gain the\nmeans of subsistence nothing remained for them but to engage in the\npetty traffic of the peddler or the disreputable business of the\nmoney-lender. They had absolutely no choice in the matter. The laws of\nMoses certainly discountenance the lending of money at interest. The\nauthorities of the Talmud severely condemn the practice of usury, and\nrefuse to admit the testimony of usurers in courts of law.****\n\n     *  Cassel, art. Juden, p. 83, in Ersch und Gruber; vide also\n     p. 85, \"ad perpetuam Judaici sceleris ultionem eisdem\n     Judaeis induxerit perpetuam servitutem.\"\n\n     ** Ibid, p. 91\n\n     *** The _signum circulate_ was borrowed from Islam. It has\n     been ingeniously conjectured that the circular form was\n     selected in contradistinction to the sign of the crescent.\n     Ibid, p. 75.\n\n     **** Mishna Sanhedrin, III. 3.\n\nBut all scruples on the part of the Jews had now to be set aside. Gold\nthey must have, and in abundance. It was the only means of buying their\npeace. The taxes levied by the imperial chamber were enormous.* The\ncities, the baronial lords, in whose territory they took refuge,\nconstantly imposed new burdens as the price of toleration. The Jews\nhave often been held up to contempt for their avarice and rapacity.\nThe reproach is unjust. It reminds one of the ancient Philistines, who,\nhaving shorn the Hebrew of his strength and blinded him, called him with\njeers from his prison-house to exhibit him to the popular gaze and to\nmake sport of his infirmity.\n\nUnder these circumstances the conservatism of the Jews in matters of\nreligion can no longer astonish us. Rejected by the world, they lived\nin a world of their own. They had inherited from their ancestors an\nextended code of ceremonial observances, dietary laws, and minute and\nmanifold directions for the conduct of life. In these they beheld the\nbulwark of their religion, the common bond that united the scattered\nmembers of their race. The Jew of Persia or Palestine could come among\nhis German brethren, and hear the same prayers expressed in the same\nlanguage, and recognize the same customs as were current among his\nco-religionists in the East. The passwords of the faith were everywhere\nunderstood. To preserve complete unanimity with respect to\nreligious usage was a measure dictated by the commanding instinct of\nself-preservation. The Jews of all countries were furthermore united by\nthe common yearnings with which they looked back to the past, and their\ncommon hope of ultimate restoration to the heritage of the promised\nland.**\n\n     * A general tax paid in recognition of the Emperor's\n     protection; the Temple tax claimed by the Holy Roman\n     Emperor in his capacity as the successor of Vespasian; the\n     so-called _aurum coronarium_, or coronation tax, by virtue\n     of which every new emperor, upon his accession to the\n     throne, could confiscate the third part of the property of\n     the Jews.    Besides these, extraordinary levies were\n     frequent.\n\n     ** On the eve of the 9th of the fifth month it was customary\n     at Jerusalem to announce the number of years that had\n     elapsed since the fall of the Temple.   Zunz, Die Ritus, p.\n     84.\n\nHowever prolonged their abode in the land of the stranger might be, they\nnever regarded it otherwise than in the light of a temporary sojourn,\nand Palestine remained their true fatherland, \"If I forget thee,\nJerusalem, wither my right hand,\" was sung as plaintively on the banks\nof the Danube and the Rhine as it had resounded of old by Babel's\nstreams. The Jewish people walked through history as in a dream, their\neyes fixed on Zion's vanished glories. Empires fell; wars devastated the\nearth; new manners, new modes of life, arose around them. What was all\nthis toil and turmoil of the nations to them! They were not admitted\nto the fellowship of mankind, they preserved their iron stability, they\nalone remained changeless. So long as the world maintained its hostile\nattitude toward them, there was little likelihood that they would\nabandon their time-honored traditions. But toward the close of the\nlast century the first tokens of political, social, and spiritual\nregeneration began to appear among the despondent people of the Hebrews.\nThe spirit of the Reformation, which had slumbered so long, awoke to\nnew vitality. The voice of love rebuked the selfishness of creeds;\nPhilosophy in the person of Kant emphasized the duties of man to man;\nPoetry sent its warm breath through the German land, and with its sweet\nstrains instilled broad, humanitarian doctrine into the hearts of men.\nLessing celebrated the virtues of his friend, Moses Mendelssohn, in\n\"Nathan the Wise,\" and in the parable of the rings showed how the\ntrue religion is to be sought and found. The Royal Academy at Berlin\nnominated the same Mendelssohn for membership in its body. Jewish\nscholars were received with distinction in the Austrian and Prussian\ncapitals. Eminent statesmen and writers began to exert themselves\nto remove the foul blot that had so long stained the conduct of the\nChristian states in their dealings with the Jews. In France the\ngreat Revolution was rapidly sweeping away the accumulated wrongs of\ncenturies. When the emancipation of the Jews came up for discussion\nin the Convention, the ablest speakers rose in their behalf. The Abbe\nGregoire exclaimed: \"A new century is about to open. May its portals be\nwreathed with the palm of humanity!\" Mirabeau lent his mighty eloquence\nto their cause. \"I will not speak of tolerance,\" he said; \"the freedom\nof conscience is a right so sacred that even the name of tolerance\ninvolves a species of tyranny.\"*\n\n     *Vide the account of the debates in the official Moniteur.\n\nOn the 28th September, 1791, the National Convention decreed\nthe equality of the Israelites of France with their Christian\nfellow-citizens. The waves of the Revolution, however, overflowed\nthe borders of France, and the agitation they caused was quickly\ncommunicated to all Germany. Wherever the armies of the Republic\npenetrated, the gates of the ghettos were thrown open, and in the name\nof Fraternity, Liberty and Equality were announced to their inhabitants.\nWhen Napoleonic misrule at last exasperated Germany into resistance, the\nseeds which French influence had sown had already taken firm root in the\nGerman soil. On the 11th March, 1812, Frederick William III. issued his\nfamous edict, removing the main disabilities from which the Jews of his\ndominions had suffered, granting them the rights and imposing upon them\nthe honorable duties of citizenship. They were no longer to be classed\nas foreigners. The state claimed them as its children, and exacted of\nthem the same sacrifices as all its sons were called upon to bring in\nthe troublous times that soon followed. With what eager alacrity the\nJews responded to the king's call the records of the German wars for\nindependence amply testify. On the battlefields of Leipzig and Waterloo\nthey stood side by side with their Christian brethren. Many sons and\nfathers of Jewish households yielded their lives in the country's\ndefence. In the blood of the fallen the new covenant of equal justice\nwas sealed for all time to come. However prejudice might still dog their\nfootsteps, however shamefully the government might violate its solemn\npledges to the Jewish soldiers on their return from the wars, the Jews\nof Germany had now gained what they could no more lose. They felt that\nthe land for which they had adventured their all, in whose behalf they\nhad lost so much, was indeed their fatherland. For the first time, after\nmany, many centuries, the fugitives had gained a home, a country. They\nawoke as from a long sleep. They found the world greatly changed around\nthem; vast problems engaging the attention of thinkers, science and\nphilosophy everywhere shedding new light upon the path of mankind. They\nwere eager to approve themselves worthy and loyal citizens, eager to\njoin in the general work of progress. They dwelt no more with anxious\npreference on the past. The present and the future demanded their\nexertions, and the motives that had so long compelled their exclusion\nfrom the fellowship of the Gentiles were gradually disappearing. As\ntheir religion was mainly retrospective in character and exclusive in\ntendency, great changes were needed to bring it into harmony with the\naltered condition of affairs. These changes were accordingly attempted,\nand their history is the history of Jewish Reform.\n\n\n\n\nIII. REFORMED JUDAISM.\n\nReformed Judaism originated in Germany; its leading representatives\nhave invariably been Germans. The history of Germany during the past one\nhundred years is the background upon which our account of the movement\nmust be projected.\n\nThe Jews of Germany had waited long and patiently for deliverance. At\nlast, toward the close of the eighteenth century it came, and one whom\nthey delight to call their \"Second Moses\" arose to lead them into the\npromised land of freedom. This was Moses Mendelssohn. His distinguished\nmerits as a writer on philosophy and aesthetics we need not here\npause to dilate upon, but shall proceed at once to consider him in his\nrelations to the political, social, and religious emancipation of his\npeople. In each of these different directions his example and influence\nupon others served to initiate a series of salutary changes, and he may\nthus appropriately be termed the father of the Reform movement in its\nwidest acceptation. It was Mendelssohn who, in 1781, inspired Christian\nWilhelm Dohm to publish his book \"On the Civil Amelioration of the\nJews,\" a work in which an earnest plea for their enfranchisement was for\nthe first time put forth. The author points to the thrift and frugality\nthat mark the Jewish race, their temperate habits and love of peace,\nand exposes the folly of debarring so valuable a class of the population\nfrom the rights of the citizen. He appeals to the wisdom of the\ngovernment to redeem the errors and injustice of the past; he defends\nthe Jews against the absurd charges which were still repeated to their\ndiscredit, and strenuously insists that liberty and humane treatment\nwould not only accrue to their own advantage, but would ultimately\nredound to the honor and lasting welfare of the state. Dohm's book\ncreated a profound impression, and though it failed to produce immediate\nresults, materially aided the cause of emancipation at a later period.\n\nAgain Mendelssohn was the first to break through the social restraints\nthat obstructed the intercourse of Jews and Christians, and thus\ntriumphed over a form of prejudice which is commonly the last to yield.\nHis fame as a writer greatly assisted him in this respect. The grace\nand freshness of his style, the apparent ease with which he divested the\nstern problems of philosophy of their harsher aspects, had won him many\nand sincere admirers. His \"Phaedon\" was eagerly read by thousands, whom\nthe writings of Leibnitz and Kant had repelled. On the afternoon of the\nJewish Sabbath he was accustomed to assemble many of the choice spirits\nof the Prussian capital, among whom we may mention Lessing, Nikolai,\nand Gleim, in his home. The conversation turned upon the gravest\nand loftiest topics that can occupy the human soul. The host himself\nskilfully guided the stream of discussion, and the waves of thought\nflowed easily along in that placid, restful motion which is adapted to\nspeculative themes. The spirit that of old had hallowed the shades of\nAcademe presided over these gatherings. Mendelssohn emulated the plastic\nidealism of Plato and the divine hilarity of Socrates. The singular\nmodesty, the truthfulness and quiet dignity that adorned his character\nwere reflected upon the people from whom he had sprung, and produced a\nsalutary change in their favor in the sentiments of the better classes.\n\nBut it is as the author of a profound revolution in the Jewish religion,\nthat Mendelssohn attracts our especial interest. Not, indeed, that he\nhimself ever assumed the character of a religious reformer. He was, on\nthe contrary, sincerely devoted to the orthodox form of Judaism, and\neven had a change appeared to him feasible or desirable, he would in all\nprobability have declined the responsibility of publicly advocating it.\nHis was the contemplative spirit which instinctively shrinks from the\nrude contact of reality. He had neither the aggressive temper nor the\nbold self-confidence that stamp the leader of parties. And yet,\nwithout intending it, he gave the first impulse to Jewish Reform, whose\nsubsequent progress, could he have foreseen it, he would assuredly have\nbeen the first to deprecate.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BIBLE.\n\nThe condition of the Jews at the close of the last century was in many\nrespects unlike that of any other race that has ever been led from a\nstate of subjection to one of acknowledged equality. Long oppression\nhad not, on the whole, either blunted their intellects or debased their\nmorals. If they were ignorant in modern science and literature, they\nwere deeply versed in their own ancient literature, and this species\nof learning was not the privilege of a single class, but the common\nproperty of the whole people. What they lacked was system. In the\nrambling debates of the Talmud the true principles of logical sequence\nare but too often slighted, and the student is encouraged to value the\nsubtle play of dialectics on its own account, without regard to any\nultimate gain in positive and useful knowledge. Impatience of orderly\narrangement being allowed to develop into a habit, became contagious. It\nimpressed itself equally on the thought, the manners, the language*\nof the Jews, and contributed not a little to alienate from them the\nsympathies of the refined. Such, however, was the preponderating\ninfluence of the Talmud that it not only engrossed the attention of the\nJewish youth to the exclusion of secular knowledge, but even perverted\nthe exegesis of the Bible and caused the study of Scripture to be\ncomparatively neglected.\n\n     * The German Jews spoke a mixed dialect of German and\n     Hebrew, which has been likened to the so-called Pennsylvania\n     Dutch.\n\nTo weaken the controlling influence of the Talmud became the first\nneedful measure of Reform, and to accomplish this it was necessary to\ngive back to the Bible its proper place in the education of the young.\nIt was an event, therefore, of no mean significance when Mendelssohn,\nin conjunction with a few friends, determined to prepare a German\ntranslation of the Pentateuch, and thus, by presenting the teachings of\nScripture in the garb of a modern tongue, to render their true meaning\napparent to every reflecting mind. The work was finished in 1783.\nIt holds a like relation to the Jewish Reform movement that Luther's\ntranslation held to the great Protestant movement of the sixteenth\ncentury. It was greeted with a storm of abuse upon its appearance, and\nwas loudly execrated by the orthodox as the beginning of larger and\nfar-reaching innovations. Its author might sincerely protest his entire\ninnocency of the radical designs imputed to him, but subsequent events\nhave proved the keener insight of his opponents. The influence of the\nnew translation was twofold. In the first place it facilitated a more\ncorrect understanding of the doctrine, the literature and language of\nScripture; secondly,--and this is worthy of special remark,--it served\nthe purpose of a text-book of the German for the great mass of the Jews,\nwho were at that time unable to read a book written in the vernacular,\nand thus became the means of opening to them the treasure-house of\nmodern thought.*\n\n     * The  German  of  Mendelssohn's   translation was   written\n     in Hebrew letters.\n\nIn the very year in which Mendelssohn's work appeared we notice among\nthe younger generation a general revival of interest in the Hebrew,\nthe mother-tongue of their race. Two students of the University of\nKonigsberg began the issue of a periodical devoted to the culture of\nthe Hebrew, which was widely read and attracted great attention. Poems,\noriginal essays, Hebrew versions of modern writings, appeared in its\ncolumns; the style of the Prophets and of the Psalmists was emulated,\nthe works of the ancient masters of the language served as models, and\nin the aspect of the noble forms employed in the diction of the biblical\nauthors the aesthetic sense of the modern Jews revived. We are inclined\nto doubt whether the Hebrew Bible, considered merely with a view to\nits aesthetic value, is even yet fully appreciated. The extravagance\nof religious credulity and the violent extreme of scepticism have alike\ntended to obscure its proper merits. The one accustomed to behold in the\n\"holy book\" a message from the Creator to his creatures shrinks, as a\nrule, from applying to the work of a Divine author the critical standard\nof human composition. The sceptics on the other hand, impatient of the\nexorbitant claims which are urged for the sacred writings of the Jews,\nand resenting the sway which they still exercise over the human reason,\nare hardly in a proper frame of mind to estimate justly its intrinsic\nand imperishable excellences. And yet, setting aside all questions of\nthe supernatural origin of the Bible, and regarding only the style in\nwhich its thoughts are conveyed, how incomparably valuable does it still\nremain! It would be difficult to calculate the extent to which many of\nour standard authors are indebted for the grandest passages of their\nworks to their early familiarity with the biblical style. Those who\nare able to read the text in the original become aware of even subtler\nbeauties that escape in the process of translation. Purity of diction,\npower of striking antithesis, simple and yet sublime imagery, a\nmarvellous facility in the expression of complex states of feeling, and\nthose the deepest of which the human soul is capable, are but a few\nof the obvious features that distinguish the golden age of Hebrew\nliterature. Never perhaps has the symbolism of nature been used with\nsuch supreme effect to express the unspeakable emotions that are deep\ndown in the heart of man. Such music as that which swells through the\npages of Isaiah's prophecies cannot be forgotten; such ringing, rhythmic\nperiods, in which the eloquence of conviction bursts forth into the\nrounded fulness of perfect oratory, can never fail to touch and to\ninspire. We know of no nobler pattern on which the modern orator could\nmould his style. And thus, too, the exquisite poetry of the Song of\nSongs, the idyl of the Book of Ruth, the weird pathos of Jeremiah's\nlament, the grand descriptions of Job, will ever be counted among the\nmasterpieces of human genius. Whatever we may think of the doctrines of\nthe Bible, it is safe to predict that the book will live long after the\nmyths that surround its origin shall have been dispelled; nay, all\nthe more, when it shall cease to be worshipped as a fetish will men\nappreciate its abiding claims to their reverence, and it will continue\nto hold its honored place in the libraries of the nations. The refining\ninfluence of the study of the Bible soon became evident among the\ncontemporaries of Mendelssohn. But in another way also his translation\ntended to their improvement. We have said that it became the means\nof acquainting them with the language of the land. A wide field of\nknowledge, embracing the rich results of modern science, philosophy,\nand art, was thus laid open to their industry. Eagerly they availed\nthemselves of the proffered opportunity; schools were erected, in which\nthe elements of liberal culture were imparted to the young, and ere long\nwe find a new generation of the Jews engaging in honorable competition\nwith their Christian brethren for the prize of learning and the rewards\nof literary distinction. It was at this time that Kant's \"Critique of\nPure Reason\" appeared, a work which marks a new epoch in the world's\nthought. Its profound reasoning and technical style made it difficult of\ncomprehension to all but the initiated. Three Jewish scholars--Dr. Herz,\nSalomon Maimon, and Ben-David--undertook the task of popularizing\nits main results, and were among the first to call attention to the\ntranscendent importance of the new system. Plainly new vital energy was\ncoursing through the veins of the Jewish people.\n\n\n\n\nSOCIAL STANDING.\n\nBut at this very time, while they were rapidly assimilating the best\nresults of modern culture and winning the respect and confidence of the\nlearned, the Jews of Germany were still laboring under an odious system\nof special laws, and beheld themselves excluded from the common rights\nof citizenship. The manly effort of Dohm in their behalf had as yet\navailed nothing; the voice of bigotry was still supreme in the councils\nof the sovereign. And yet they felt themselves to be the equals of those\nwhom the law unjustly ranked their superiors, and longed to see the\nbarriers done away that still divided them from their fellow-men. Many\nof their number had amassed fortunes, and expended their wealth with\ncommendable prudence and generosity. They supported needy students,\nfounded libraries, extended their knowledge, and refined their tastes.\nEven the Jewish maidens followed the general impulse toward self-culture\nthat was setting with such force in the Jewish community. In particular\nthe works of Schiller and Goethe, as they successively appeared at this\nperiod, inflamed their enthusiasm, and none were more zealous than\nthey in spreading the fame and influence of the new school of German\nliterature. Still they were taught to consider themselves an inferior\nclass, and were despised as such. The position of equality which the\nnarrowness of the laws denied them they were resolved to achieve by the\nweight ol character and the force of spiritual attractions. Henrietta de\nLemos, a young girl of singular beauty and attainments, had at this time\nbecome the wife of Dr. Herz, of whom we have casually spoken above in\nhis connection with Kant. She is described as tall, graceful, possessing\na face in which the features of Hellenic and Oriental beauty were\nblended in exquisite harmony; while the sobriquet of the \"Tragic\nMuse,\" by which she became known, denoted the majestic nobleness of\nher presence. Under the guidance of competent masters she had acquired\nconsiderable proficiency in many of the modern and ancient languages,\nand to a mind stored with various knowledge was added the mellow charm\nof a most sweet and loving disposition. Attracted by her fame and\ncaptivated by her genius, the most eminent men of the day sought the\nprivilege of her society. The art of conversation, which had till then\nreceived but little attention in the Prussian capital, was for the first\ntime cultivated in the _salon_ of Henrietta Herz. Sparkling wit and\nprofound philosophy were alike encouraged. Statesmen high in the service\nof their country sought the amenities of these delightful gatherings.\nAlexander and Wilhelm von Humboldt, Gentz, Schleier-macher, Friedrich\nvon Schlegel, Mirabeau, Dorothea, the daughter of Mendelssohn, Rahel,\nafterwards wife of Varnhagen von Ense, were among the intimates of her\ncircle. Christians and Jews met here on terms of mutual deference, and\nforgot for a while the paltry distinctions which still kept them\nasunder in the world without. And yet these distinctions, senseless in\nthemselves, were full of ominous meaning to those who felt their\nburden. Young men eager for advancement in life found their religion\nan insuperable obstacle in their way. The professions, the army, the\noffices of the government, were closed against them. On the threshold of\nevery higher career they were rudely repulsed, unless they embraced\nthe base alternative of changing their creed to satisfy their ambition.\nUnder these circumstances that fidelity to the faith of the fathers\nwhich had so long marked the conduct of the Jews began seriously\nto waver, and in many instances gave way. Not, indeed, that the new\nconverts became true and loyal Christians. On the contrary, they\nconsidered the rite of baptism a mere hollow form, and left it to the\nstate, which had insisted upon their conformance, to justify the deep\ndisgrace that was thus brought upon the Christian sacraments. Moreover,\na certain laxity in the interpretation of dogma had at this time\nbecome widely prevalent, which greatly assisted them in setting their\nconscience at ease. Rationalism had stripped the positive religions\nof much of their substance and individuality. To none of them was an\nabsolute value allowed. They were regarded as forms in which a principle\nhigher than all forms had found an imperfect and temporary expression.\nEven the influence of Schleiermacher tended rather to obliterate than to\ndefine the outlines of the contending creeds. Schleiermacher, the author\nof a Protestant revival in Germany, spoke the language of Pantheism,\nand his opinions are deeply suffused with the spirit of Pantheistic\nteachings. He defines religion to be the sense of dependence on the\nInfinite, the Universal. To the fact that different men in different\nages have been variously affected by the conception of the Infinite\nhe ascribes the origin of the different creeds. Theological dogmas,\naccording to him, cannot claim to be true in the sense of scientific or\nphilosophical propositions. They approach the truth only in so far as\nthey typically express certain emotional processes of our soul, and\nthose dogmas are nearest the truth which typify emotions of the most\nnoble and exalted character. Allowing Christianity to be what its\nlearned expounders had defined it, intelligent Jews could hardly find\nit difficult to assume the Christian name. It is estimated that in the\ncourse of three decades full one half of the Jewish community of Berlin\nwere nominally Christianized.\n\nHow thoroughly conventional, at the same time, the use of the term\nChristian had become may be judged from a letter addressed by David\nFriedlander, a friend of Mendelssohn's, to Councillor Teller of\nthe Consistory, in which he offered, on behalf of himself and some\nco-religionists, to accept Christianity in case they might be permitted\nto omit the observance of the Christian festivals, to reject the\ndoctrine of the Trinity, of the divinity of Jesus, and, in fact,\nwhatever is commonly regarded as essentially and specifically Christian.\nIt is true the reply of the Councillor was not encouraging.\n\n\n\n\nPARIS, THE NEW JERUSALEM.\n\nWhile the very existence of Judaism was thus threatened in Germany, it\nseemed about to regain its pristine vigor in France. More than seventeen\ncenturies had elapsed since the Sanhedrin, the High Court of Jerusalem,\nhad passed out of existence. Quite unexpectedly it was recalled to\nmomentary life by the caprice of the great Corsican, who then ruled the\ndestinies of the world. In the year 1806 Napoleon convened a parliament\nof Jewish Notables at Paris in order to definitely settle the relations\nof French Israelites to the state. Soon after an imperial decree\nconvoked the grand Sanhedrin for the purpose of ratifying the decisions\nof the Notables. The glories of Jerusalem were to be renewed in \"modern\nBabylon\" on the Seine. On February 9, 1807, the Sanhedrin met in\nthe Hotel de Ville. Care was taken to invest its sittings with due\nsolemnity; the seats of the members were arranged in crescent shape\nabout the platform of the presiding officers, as had been customary at\nJerusalem; the president was saluted with the title of Nassi (Prince),\nas in the olden time; the ancient titles and forms were copied with\nscrupulous exactness. Two-thirds of the members were Rabbis, the\nremainder laymen. The opening of the Sanhedrin attracted universal\nattention, but its proceedings were void of interest. In fact, its sole\ntask was to lend the authority of an ancient tribunal to the action of\nthe Notables, and this having been accomplished it was adjourned after\na brief session. In connection with these conventions of the years 1806\nand 1807 it behooves us to mention the creation of a new constitution\nfor the French synagogue elaborated by the joint efforts of the imperial\nCommissioners and the Notables. The form of government adopted was\nmoulded on the pattern of the secular power. A system of consistories\nwas organized throughout France, culminating in a central consistory at\nParis with a Grand-Rabbin at its head. The officers of the consistories\nwere treated as officers of the state, the charge of their maintenance\nwas in part defrayed at the public expense, and, in the course of time,\nthey were placed on a footing of almost complete equality with the\ndignitaries of the Christian churches. The union of the teachers of\nJudaism in a species of graded hierarchy, dependent upon temporal rulers\nfor their support, was as have have been expected, fruitful of evil\nresults. If it is true that the supremacy of the church over the state\ndisturbs the peace of nations and endangers the very existence of\ngovernments, it is equally certain that no religion can long continue\nto maintain its purity when the church becomes the subservient vassal\nof the state. Whatever the apparent gain in stability may be, it is more\nthan counterbalanced by the loss of spontaneity and sincerity. Hypocrisy\nflourishes, the liberty of conscience is abridged, and a spirit of base\ntime-serving eventually prepares the downfall of institutions whose\nperfect safety is consistent only with perfect freedom.\n\nThe French Synagogue, as we have indicated, presents a case in point.\nDuring the past seventy years it has stagnated. No single luminous\nthought lights up its dreary record, no single whole-souled effort to\nappropriate the larger truths of our time dignifies its annals. In the\nhistory of the Reform movement it merits no further mention.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITURGY.\n\nReturning to Germany we behold the leading Jews at last awakened to the\nnecessity of energetic measures to check the wide-spread disaffection\nthat was thinning out their ranks. Hitherto the liturgy of the synagogue\nhad not been affected by the growing tendency to change. An attempt in\nthis direction was initiated by Israel Jacobsohn, the financial agent\nof the Duke of Brunswick, a man of wealth, culture, and generous\ndisposition. He was shocked by the scenes of disorder, the utter lack of\ndecorum, that disgraced the public worship; he was resolved as far as\nin his power lay to correct the abuses which had been allowed to grow up\nunrestrained in the gloomy period of mediaeval persecution, and to\nwin back to the faith those whose affections had been estranged by\nthe barbarous form in which it appeared to view. He erected at his own\nexpense, and dedicated on July 17, 1810, in the town of Seesen, a new\ntemple,* at the same time introducing certain radical modifications into\nthe service which we shall presently take occasion to consider.\n\n     * The term Temple has since been used by the Reformers in\n     contradistinction to the orthodox Synagogue.\n\nBeing appointed to the Presidency of the Consistory of Cassel, during\nthe reign of Jerome Bonaparte, he took advantage of his official\nposition to urge his innovations upon the congregations under his\ncharge. In 1815 he transplanted the \"new fashion in religion\" to Berlin,\nand in 1818 assisted in founding the temple at Hamburg, which soon\nbecame one of the leading strongholds of Reform. A provisional service\non the same plan was likewise instituted at Leipsic,* during the\nperiod of the annual fair, and tidings of the reform were thus rapidly\ntransmitted to distant parts of Germany. The main changes introduced by\nJacobsohn, and copied by others, may be briefly summed up as follows:\nThe introduction of regular weekly sermons, which had not previously\nbeen customary; of prayers in the vernacular by the side of the Hebrew;\nof choir singing with organ accompaniment, and the confirmation of young\nchildren. These innovations implied a revolution in the character of the\npublic worship.\n\n     * Dr. Zunz was appointed preacher, and the composer\n     Meyerbeer directed the musical services.\n\nThe Jewish people had been wont to regard themselves individually and\ncollectively, as soldiers in the army of their God, commissioned to wage\nwarfare against every species of false religion. A spirit of martial\ndiscipline, as it were, pervaded their ranks. The repetition of prayers\nand benedictions by day and night in the privacy of domestic life, on\nthe public square and by the roadside, was a species of drill intended\nto keep alive in them the consciousness of their mission, and to prepare\nthem for the emergencies of actual conflict. Thrice a day they mustered\nin their synagogues, and renewed their oath of allegiance in the\npresence of their spiritual king. The term Jewish Church, though in\nfrequent use, is a misnomer based upon false analogy. The difference\nbetween the synagogue and the church is as clearly marked as that\nbetween Judaism and Christianity themselves. The sentimental element,\nusing the word in its nobler signification, which is distinctive of the\nlatter, is almost entirely lacking in the former. Both make it their\naim to elevate the moral life in man, but while Judaism acts through\nthe will upon the affections, Christianity places the affections in the\nforeground and seeks by their means to persuade and captivate the will.\n\nIt cannot be denied that the Reformers had in some measure modified the\ntraditional character of Jewish worship. The purely emotional element\nacquired a prominence which it had never had before, the very word\nemployed to designate the purpose of the temple service--\"Erbauung,\"\nedification--was foreign to the ancient vocabulary of Judaism. In\nanother direction, too, they transgressed the limits prescribed\nby time-honored usage. We have referred above to the ceremony of\nconfirmation, which has since been generally adopted by congregations\nof the Reform school. On some festival or Sabbath--the Feast of Weeks,\ncelebrated about Whitsuntide, being commonly preferred--boys and girls\nof thirteen or fourteen are assembled in the temple, where, after having\nundergone an examination in the chief tenets of their religion, they\nare required to repeat aloud a confession of faith. The ceremony usually\nattracts a large congregation, and is one of the few institutions\nintroduced by the Reformers that have strongly seized upon the popular\nheart.\n\nThe natural concern of parents for the welfare of their offspring lends\na solemn interest to the occasion. At an age when the child's character\nbegins to assume definite outlines, when the reason unfolds, and the\nperils and temptations that attend every pilgrim on the valley road of\nlife, approach near, an instinctive prompting of the human heart leads\nus to forecast the future of sons and daughters, and to embrace with\njoy whatever means are placed at our disposal to guard them against\naberration and misfortune. To utilize the impressiveness of a great\npublic gathering, the sympathetic presence of parents and friends, the\nearnest monitions of a wise and revered teacher, in order to confirm\nthem in every virtuous endeavor and high resolve, is therefore fit and\nproper.*\n\n     * It deserves to be noted that the ceremony of confirmation\n     among the Jews took its origin in the schools of Seesen,\n     Frankfort-on-the-Main, etc. Indeed, the first Reformed\n     congregations were formed by natural accretion about these\n     schools. The influence of schools in giving character and\n     stability to new religious movements is a subject of\n     sufficient importance to deserve separate treatment.\n\nThe propriety of exacting a formal confession of faith, however, has\nbeen hotly disputed both by the orthodox and the more advanced liberals.\nIt is urged that Judaism is a practical, rather than a dogmatical\nreligion. Even the existence of a God is rather presupposed as a fact\nthan asserted as a matter of belief. Apart from this it is claimed that\na child at thirteen can hardly be prepared to comprehend the fundamental\nquestions of religion, much less to express convictions on problems so\ngrave and difficult. The age of reflection and consequently of doubt is\nyet to come, nor can any child on the day of its confirmation answer for\nits convictions ten years thereafter.\n\nThe progress of the Reform movement was thus of a character to awaken\ndistrust and fierce contention at every step. The conservative party\nwere enraged at what they considered unwarrantable encroachments upon\nthe traditions of an immemorial past. The radicals were dissatisfied\nwith the lack of substance and vitality in the teachings of the\nReformers, the shallow moralizing tone of their preachers, the\nsuperficial views of Judaism which they scattered among the multitude.\n\nIt may indeed be asked how could better things have been expected at\nthat time. The great facts of Jewish history were not yet clearly known,\nthe philosophy of Judaism was proportionately vague and uncertain. No\nJewish author had ever undertaken to write out the annals of his people;\nchaotic confusion reigned in their chronicles. To know what Judaism\nmight be it seemed necessary to ascertain in the first instance what it\nhad been; the past would prove the index of the future. Untoward events\nthat happened at this period gave a powerful impulse to historical\nresearch, and led to fruitful investigations in the domain of Judaism.\n\n\n\n\n\"HEP-HEP.\"\n\nThe great battles of 1813 and 1815, in which the German people regained\ntheir independence, effected a marvellous change in the spirits and\nsentiments of the nation.\n\nAccustomed for a long time to endure in silence the insults and\narrogance of a foreign despot, they had learned to despair of\nthemselves; a deadly lethargy held their energies in bondage and in\nthe fairy visions of poetry and the daring dreams of metaphysical\nspeculation they sought consolation for the pains and burdens of\nreality. The victories of Leipsic and Waterloo completely altered the\ntone of their feelings. It is a not uncommon fact that individuals\nusually the reverse of self-asserting exhibit, on occasions, an\noverweening self-consciousness, which is all the more pointed and\naggressive because of their secret and habitual self-distrust. We note\nwith curious interest the recurrence of the same obnoxious trait in the\nlife of a great nation. The novel sense of power intoxicated them, the\nGerman mind for the moment lost its poise; Romanticism flourished, the\nviolence of the Middle Ages was mistaken for manhood, and held up to the\nemulation of the present generation. Whatever was German was therefore\nesteemed good; whatever was foreign was therefore despised, or at best\nignored.\n\nThe Jews were made to feel the sharp sting of this feverish vanity;\ntheir Asiatic origin was cast up against them, though it might have been\nsupposed that a residence of fifteen centuries had given them some claim\nto dwell at peace with the children of the soil. In the year 1819 the\nassassination of Kotzebue added fresh fuel to the fervor of Teutonic\npassion. In August of that year a professor of Wurzburg, who had written\nin defence of the Jews, was publicly insulted by the students. A tumult\nensued, the cry \"Hep-Hep\"* arose on every side, and \"Death to the Jews\"\nwas the watchword. On the next day the magistrate ordered them to leave\nWurzburg, and four hundred in number they were driven beyond the city's\nlimits. Similar excesses occurred in Frankfort-on-the-Main, Meiningen,\nCarlsruhe, and elsewhere. Inflammatory pamphlets contributed to\nincrease the excitement.\n\n     * \"Hep-Hep\" has been explained as an abbreviation of the\n     words \"Hierosolyma est perdita\" (Jerusalem is perished).\n     Probably it is no more than one of those meaningless\n     exclamations which are not infrequent in college jargon.\n\nGrattenauer, Runs, Fries, had written to good effect. All the old\nfalsehoods were revived, the fable of the use of Christian blood at\nPassover among the rest. It seemed as though the genius of chivalry\nwhich the Romantic school had invoked had returned with its grim\nattendant train to renew the orgies of mediaeval persecution in the\nfull light of the nineteenth century. In November appeared the\n\"Judenspiegel,\" by Hundt-Radowsky. In this the author argues that\nthe murder of a Jew is neither criminal nor sinful. In order to avoid\nunnecessary bloodshed however, he proposes a more peaceful means of\nridding the German people of \"these vermin.\" His propositions, couched\nin plain language and delivered in sober earnest, are simply these:\nthe men to be castrated, and sold as slaves to the East Indies; the\nwomen--but the pen refuses to record the fiendish suggestion. It\nis mortifying to reflect that this infamous publication was widely\ncirculated and eagerly read.*\n\n\n\n\nTHE SCIENCE OF JUDAISM.\n\nThe sole reply which these occurrences elicited from the intelligent\nmembers of the Jewish community was a more strenuous effort on their\npart to complete the work of inward purification, and renewed zeal\nin the study of their historic past. They trusted that the image of\nJudaism, if presented in its proper light, would remove the odium which\nrested upon their people, and would furthermore become their sure guide\nin the work of reconstructing the religion of their ancestors.\n\nLate in the year 1819 a \"Society for the Culture and Science* of the\nJews\" was founded at Berlin. Its object was twofold: first to promote\na more effective prosecution of the \"Science of Judaism\"; secondly, to\nelevate the moral tone of the people, to counteract their prevailing\nbias toward commerce, and to encourage them in the pursuits of\nagriculture, the trades, and such of the professions as they had access\nto.\n\n     * Graetz, Geschichte der Juden, X. p. 361.\n\n     ** Throughout this article we use the word \"science\" in the\n     sense of the German Wissenschaft.\n\nThe science of Judaism embraces the departments of history, philosophy,\nand philology, the last being of special importance, since it presents\nthe key to the correct understanding of the two former. The means\nadopted to secure these objects were chiefly three,--a scientific\ninstitute, a journal whose columns were enriched by many contributions\nof enduring value, and a school in which instruction was imparted gratis\nto poor students and Partisans. Among the members of the society\nwe mention Edward Gans, the President, afterwards Professor of\nJurisprudence at the University of Berlin; the eminent critic, Dr. Zunz;\nthe poet, Heinrich Heine;* Moser; the noble Wholwill; and others.\n\n     * Heine was for some time an instructor in the society's\n     school. For an account of the Cultur-Verein, and of the\n     poet's cordial interest in its success, vide Strodtmann,\n     \"Heine's Leben und Werke,\" p. 237.\n\nUnfortunately, the public mind was not yet prepared to appreciate the\nlabors of these men; the society languished for want of support, and\nafter a few years its formal organization was dissolved. But in the\nbrief term of its existence it had accomplished its main object; the\nscience of Judaism was securely established, and it could safely be left\nto the industry of a few gifted individuals to cultivate and propagate\nit. The ten years following the \"Hep-Hep\" excitement witnessed a series\nof literary achievements whose importance it would be difficult\nto overrate. Zunz and Rappoport, the pioneers of the new science,\ndiscovered the thread by which they were enabled to push their way\nthrough the labyrinth of Jewish literature. Profound erudition,\ncritical acumen, and a subtle insight amounting almost to intuition, are\ndisplayed in their writings. A band of worthy disciples followed their\nlead. The chain of tradition, which had seemed hopelessly tangled, was\nunravelled; many of its missing links were ingeniously supplied, and the\nsequence of events, on the whole, satisfactorily determined. The dimness\nand vagueness that had hung over the history of the Jews was giving way,\nand the leading figures in the procession of past generations assumed\nclear and distinct outlines. At this time Jost was employed in writing\nthe first connected history of his people which had ever emanated from\nJewish sources.\n\n\n\n\nSCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY.\n\nWhile scholars were thus busy preparing the way for a new theory of\nJudaism based on the facts of its history, no efforts were made to press\nthe needful work of practical reform. Indeed, the hostile attitude of\nthe temporal rulers discouraged any such undertaking. The influence\nof Metternich swayed the councils of the German princes. The King of\nPrussia had broken the promise of constitutional government which he\nhad given to his people in the hour of need. The power of the Triple\nAlliance was prepared to crush out the faintest stirrings of political\nor religious liberty wherever they appeared.\n\nIn 1830, however, the revolution in France swept away a second time the\nthrone of the Bourbons, and changed the face of affairs. The courage\nof the liberal party revived everywhere; the bonds of despotism were\nrelaxed; a spirit of resistance to oppression arose, and grew in\nintensity from year to year, until it at last found vent in the\nconvulsions of 1848. The Jews felt the prophetic promise of a better\norder of things, and roused themselves to renewed exertions.\n\nWe have indicated in a previous article that the cause of political and\nof religious emancipation, so far at least as Germany was concerned,\nadvanced in parallel lines. In 1831 Gabriel Riesser addressed a\nmanifesto to the German people on the position of the Jews among them.*\nIt was a clear and forcible presentment of the case. The style is\ndignified, free from the taint of undue self-assertion, and equally free\nfrom misplaced modesty. He did not petition for a favor; he demanded a\nright. He disdained all measures of compromise; he dared to treat the\nquestion as one of national importance; he asked for simple justice,\nand would be content with nothing less. The German people rewarded his\nmanliness with their confidence,** and under his able leadership the\nstruggle for emancipation was finally brought to a triumphant close.\n\n     * Ueber die Stellung der Bekenner des Mosaischen Glaubens an\n     die Deutschen aller Confessionen.    Riesser's Works, II.\n\n     ** He was elected Vice-President of the first German\n     Parliament that met in the Pauls-Kirche in Frankfort.\n\nIn 1835 Abraham Geiger, then Rabbi of Wiesbaden, began the publication\nof a \"Scientific Journal for Jewish Theology,\" and with the appearance\nof this periodical the Reform movement entered into its present phase.\nIt was the purpose of Geiger and his coadjutors to prosecute the work of\nreligious renovation on the basis of the science of Judaism. This is\nthe distinguishing feature of the modern school of Jewish Reform.\nBut, before we proceed to sketch the principles of these \"scientific\ntheologians,\" let us rapidly advert to the brief series of events that\nmark the outward development of the new school.\n\nAround the standard which Geiger had unfurled a body of earnest men\nsoon collected, who agreed with him in the main in desiring to reconcile\nscience and life (_Wissenschaft und Leben_). They were mostly young men,\nfresh from the universities, profoundly versed in Hebrew and rabbinic\nlore, zealous lovers of their religion, equipped with the elements of\nancient and modern culture, and anxious to harmonize the conflicting\nclaims of both in their private lives and public station. Many of them\nunderwent severe privations for their convictions' sake. They were\ndistrusted by the various governments, without whose sanction no Jewish\nclergyman could enter upon his functions, and were made to feel, in\ncommon with other Liberals, the displeasure which their measures,\nmoderate though they were, had provoked in high quarters. They were\nsubjected to numberless petty annoyances, and even downright force\nwas employed to check their growing popularity. With the accession of\nFrederick William IV., the Ultramontanes and the party of retrogression\nin the Protestant Church completely gained the ascendant. Covered by\nthe shield of royal favor they offered the most audacious insults to the\nconscience and common-sense of the people, the right of free speech was\nimpaired, the press was shackled, while the most abject superstitions\nwere openly encouraged. The holy coat of Jesus, exhibited at the\ncathedral of Treves, attracted hundreds of thousands of pilgrims, and\nthe fame of the miraculous cures it had effected was diligently spread.\nBut the very violence of the extremists provoked a determined opposition\namong the intelligent classes. National unity and individual liberty\nwere loudly demanded, a German Catholic party was formed with the avowed\nobject of reorganizing Catholicism on the basis of the modern State.\nFree religious congregations began to crop up here and there, which,\nthough feeble as yet in their organization, were properly regarded as\nsignificant of the spirit of the times. On the waves of the turning tide\nthe young Rabbis were carried along. They were ardent patriots;\nthey too, were eager to see their religion wedded to the progressive\ntendencies of the age. The sympathies of the most enlightened of their\nbrethren were cheerfully extended to them, and high hopes were founded\non their success.\n\nIn 1844 they were sufficiently strong to meet in convention. Disclaiming\nthe functions of a religious synod, they assumed the character of a\nscientific body, assembled to promote the objects of truth in their\nspecial department. The discussions were indeed intended to secure\nharmony of sentiment and action, but the resolutions adopted were\nbinding neither upon the members themselves nor upon the congregations\nthey represented. Three times these conventions were repeated at\nBrunswick, Frankfort, and Breslau.\n\nIn 1845 a new congregation was formed, called \"The Reform Association of\nBerlin,\" which was recruited from the extreme left wing of the liberal\nJewish party. This congregation became noted for the introduction of a\nSunday service, a measure which eventually compelled them to entirely\nabandon the Jewish Sabbath. Samuel Holdheim, the ablest exponent of\nradical Judaism, was selected to be their preacher.\n\nThus far had the Reform movement proceeded, when, in 1848, the\nincidents of a great political revolution crowded every other issue into\ncomparative insignificance. The fall of Metter-nich before the intrigues\nof the camarilla and the fury of a popular uprising, the humiliation\nof the king of Prussia, the convocation of the national parliament, the\nBaden insurrection,--these were the events that absorbed the interest\nof the public. Political incompetency on the part of the leaders\nprecipitated the catastrophe of the revolution, and the hopes of the\nGerman people were again doomed to disappointment. Soon the reaction\nset in, a dreary period of stagnation followed, and the efforts of the\nfriends of freedom were paralyzed.\n\nThe Jewish Reformers were stricken down by the general reverse that had\novertaken the liberal party, nor have they since been able to recover\nfrom its stunning effects. Two revolutions, those of 1830 and 1848,\nmark the growth and the decline of \"scientific reform.\" Within the past\nthirty years a number of prominent reformers have been called to this\ncountry, and to them is due the spread of the movement in the United\nStates.\n\nThe difficulties which confronted them here were of the most formidable\nkind. The great bulk of the Jewish emigration to the United States were\noriginally drawn from the village congregations of the Fatherland, and\nwere by no means fair specimens of the intelligence and culture of the\nJewish race. While they displayed the qualities of energy, perseverance,\nand thrift, and soon acquired wealth and influence in the commercial\nworld, few only were fitted to appreciate a movement so thoroughly\nintellectual in its bearings as that which the reformers came to\npropagate amongst them. The mere externals of reform were readily\nadopted, but its spiritual essence escaped them. Accordingly, the\ndevelopment of Reformed Judaism on American soil presents no novel or\nstriking features for our consideration, and it may appropriately be\ntreated as a mere offshoot of the German stock.\n\n\n\n\nPRINCIPLES.\n\nEver since the appearance of Geiger's \"Scientific Journal,\" Jewish\nphilology and Jewish theology have been inseparably connected. To\nattempt a detailed account of the latter would involve the necessity\nof frequent reference to the former, an attempt in which we can hardly\nassume the reader's interest would bear us out. Unwilling to test his\npatience by such a course, we shall content ourselves with stating\nthe main principles of Reformed Judaism, and briefly indicating the\nsuccessive steps by which it advanced to its present positions.\n\nThe one great fact which the Science of Judaism has indisputably\nestablished was the fact of evolution in the sphere of the Jewish\nreligion. Each generation had legislated for itself. The authorities of\nthe Middle Ages had introduced changes in the ritual; the Talmud itself,\nthat corner-stone of orthodoxy, was a stupendous innovation on the\nsimplicity of Bible religion.* Applying the theory of evolution to their\nown case, the modern Rabbis assumed on their part the right to institute\nwhatever changes the exigencies of the age had rendered imperative.\n\n     * The theory of an Oral Law, delivered to Moses on Sinai and\n     handed down from generation to generation, until it was\n     finally embodied in the ordinance of the Talmudical\n     academies, is a palpable fiction, invented by the Talmudists\n     in order to lend to their own decisions the sanction of\n     Divine authorship.\n\nThe very fact of change, it is true, presupposes the existence of a\nsubstratum that remains unchangeable. What that substratum in the case\nof Judaism is claimed to be, we shall presently discover. The measures\nof the Reformers were in the main dictated by the sentiment of\npatriotism and the desire to remove the barriers that interposed between\nthem and their fellow-men. They would cease to be a \"state within-the\nstate,\" cease to separate themselves from the fellowship of the\nGentiles. Hence the leading proposition upon which Reformed Judaism is\nfounded. _The Jewish people have ceased to be a national unit, and will\nexist hereafter as a confederation of religious societies._\n\nIf the Jews have ceased to be a nation, then the Reformers must abandon\nthe idea of a national restoration. They did so. If they have ceased to\nbe a nation, they must give up the hope of a personal Messiah who should\nlead them back to the promised land. They did so> If they desired no\nlonger to dwell in seclusion they must abolish the dietary laws, which\nforbid them to taste of the food of Christians, though commanded by the\nTalmud and founded apparently on the authority of Moses. This, too,\nthey were willing to do. Other changes were inspired by the philosophic\nteachings of the day, and were undertaken with equal readiness. Thus\nthe doctrine of resurrection in the flesh was set aside. The fabric\nof ceremonial observances had been rudely shaken, and soon gave way\naltogether. Changes in the ritual followed. The prayer-book reflected\nthe gloomy spirit of a people whose life was embittered by constant\ntrials and dangers. Naturally they had turned to the past and the\nglories of Zion; the pomp of the sacrifices, the advent of the Messiah,\nthe future restoration of the kingdom of David, were the themes on which\nthey loved to dwell. All this was no longer suited to the temper of\nthe modern Jews, and radical alterations became necessary. Many of the\nfestivals and fast-days also were struck from the calendar. One of the\nmost distinctive customs of the Jews, the so-called rite of Abraham's\nCovenant, was boldly attacked, and though the abolition of this ancient\npractice is still strenuously resisted, there is little doubt that\nit will ultimately go with the rest. Samuel Holdheim advocated the\npropriety of intermarriage between Jews and Christians.\n\nThe manner in which these conclusions were reached may be described\nas follows. At first an attempt was made to found each new measure of\nReform on the authority of the Talmud. The Talmud was attacked with\nits own weapons. The fallacy of such a method becoming apparent, the\nauthority of the Talmud was entirely set aside. A return to the Bible\nwas next in order. But even the laws of the Bible proved to be no longer\ncapable of fulfilment in their totality. A distinction was therefore\ndrawn between the letter and the spirit of the Bible. The letter is\nman's handiwork, the spirit alone ought to be regarded as the Divine\nrule of faith. The \"spirit of the Bible\" is the essence of Judaism,\nwhich cannot change. In the process of evolution it constantly assumes\nnew forms, but remains substantially the same. Nor could any motives of\nexpediency, nor could even the ardent desire of political emancipation\nhave induced the Reformers to pursue the course they did, had they for\none moment believed it contrary to the substantial teachings of\nthe Bible. The spirit of the Bible is expressed in two fundamental\npropositions: the existence of one God, the author and governor of the\nuniverse; and the Messianic mission of the people of Israel. The\nformer is no longer the exclusive property of Judaism, the latter is\ndistinctively its own; both together express the simple creed of the\nReformers.\n\n\n\n\nPROSPECTS.\n\nIf now we cast a glance upon the present aspect of Reformed Judaism we\nare confronted by a state of affairs that by no means corresponds to\nthe great anticipations which were connected with the movement in its\nearlier stages. The ancient institutions have been cleared away,--that\nwas unavoidable; they had long been tottering to their ruin,--but\nan adequate substitute for what was taken has not been provided. The\nleaders have penetrated to the foundations of their religion, but\nupon these bare foundations they have erected what is at best a mere\ntemporary structure incapable of affording them permanent shelter and\nprotection. The temper of the Reform school has been critical.\nIts members were admirably fitted to analyze and to dissect; their\nscholarship is unquestionably great; the stainless purity of their lives\nhas elevated the character of their people and entitled them to sincere\nrespect But they lacked the constructive genius needed for the creation\nof new institutions. In the year 1822 Wholwill declared that \"the Jews\nmust raise themselves and their principle to the level of science.\nScience is the one bond that alone can unite the whole human race.\" The\nemphasis thus placed on science has continued to distinguish the Reform\nmovement down to the present day. In the sphere of religion, however, it\nis not sufficient to apprehend the abstract truth of ideas with the\nhelp of intellect, but it is necessary to array these ideas in concrete\nforms, in order that they may warm the heart and stimulate the will.\n\nWe hold it erroneous to believe that the age of symbolism is passed. The\nprovince of religion is to bring the human soul into communion with\nthe Infinite. In the lower religions the conception of the Infinite was\nmeagre and insufficient and the symbols in use proportionately gross.\nAt the present day it is the ideal of moral perfection that alone is\ncapable of exciting our devotion and kindling our enthusiasm. Now it is\ntrue that the material symbolism of the churches and the synagogues, the\nvenerable, the bread and wine, the scrolls of the Pentateuch tricked\nout in fanciful vestments, fail to appeal to the sympathies of many\neducated men and women of our time; not, however, because they are\nsymbols, but because they are inadequate symbols, because of an almost\npainful disparity between their earthy origin and the vastness of the\nspiritual ideas which they are intended to suggest. There is, on the\nother hand, a species of symbolism peculiarly adapted to the needs of\nthe present generation, and which, if properly understood, might be\nemployed to incalculable advantage in the interest of a revival of the\nreligious sentiment. We allude to the symbolism of association.\n\nThe tendency to associate the efforts of individuals in corporate action\nhas never been more markedly displayed than in our own day. So long as\nsuch associations confine themselves to certain finite objects, they are\nmere social engines organized with a view to utility and power, and\nwith such we are not concerned. The characteristic of symbols is their\nsuggestiveness. They have a meaning in themselves, but they suggest\nillimitable meanings beyond their scope. Now a form of organization is\nnot only conceivable, but has actually been attempted, that fully meets\nthe requirements of the symbolic character. The Christian Church is\ndesigned to be such an organization. Not only does it propose to unite\nits members and to satisfy their spiritual needs during the term of\ntheir sojourn on earth, but it aspires to typify the union of all saints\nunder the sovereignty of Jesus, and thus to give to the believer a\npresentiment of the felicity and perfection of the higher world. In\nlike manner the Hebrews have been acquainted with the symbolism of\nassociation from a very early period of their history. If they delight\nto style themselves the chosen people, the meaning of that phrase, so\noften misunderstood, is purely symbolical.\n\nRecognizing the fact that the majority of mankind are at no time\nprepared to entertain the ideals of the few, they undertook to work out\namong themselves a nobler conception of religion and a loftier morality,\ntrusting that the force of their example would in the end bring about\nthe universal adoption of their faith and ethical code. In this sense\nthe choice of Israel was interpreted by the Prophets. They believed that\ntheir selection by the Deity imposed upon them heavier responsibilities,\nand regarded it in the light of an obligation rather than a privilege.\nWhat the statue is to the ideal of beauty, a whole people resolved to\nbe in relation to the ideal of the good. The same conception still\ndominates the thoughts of the Reformers, and is expressed by them in\ntheir doctrine of Israel's messianic mission. They claim that the\nJews have been for the past three thousand years the \"Swiss guard of\nmonotheism.\" They still believe themselves to be the typical people,\nand their firm persuasion on this head is the one strong feature of\nthe Reformers' creed. If they will use their world-wide association to\nillustrate anew the virtues for which their race became renowned in the\npast,--and we refer especially to the purity of the sexual relations\namong them, their pious reverence for domestic ties,--they may still\nbecome, as they aspire to do, exemplars of purity to be joyfully\nimitated by others. If they will use it in the spirit of their ancient\nlawgiver to tone down the harsh distinctions of wealth and poverty, to\nestablish juster relations between the strong and weak, in brief, to\nharmonize the social antagonisms of modern life, they may confer an\ninestimable benefit upon mankind. But the manner in which the symbolism\nof association might be applied to invigorate the religious sentiment,\nand to expel the coldness of the times by the fervor of a new\nenthusiasm, is a subject of too vast dimensions to be thus summarily\ndespatched, and we shall hope to recur to it on some future occasion.*\n\n     * In an article on the religious aspects of the social\n     question.\n\nThe present condition of liberal Judaism is strongly akin to that of\nliberal Christianity. The old is dead, the new has not been born. It\nis hardly safe to predict what possible developments the future may yet\nhave in store. As regards the Jews, however, it is right to add that\nsuch changes as have taken place in the constitution of their religion\nhave not brought them in any sense nearer to Christianity. On the\ncontrary, since the belief in a personal Messiah has been dropped, the\nhope of their conversion has become more vague and visionary than\never. Those whom the worship of the synagogue and the temple no longer\nattracts either become wholly sceptical and indifferent, or, as is often\nthe case, transfer their allegiance to the new humanitarian doctrine\nwhich is fast assuming the character of a religion in the ardor it\ninspires and the strong spiritual union it cements. For the great body\nof the Jews, however, the central doctrine of Judaism remains unshaken,\nand doubtless, so long as Christianity exists, Judaism as a distinct\ncreed will coexist with it. The modern Jews, like their ancestors,\nbelieve that their mission is not yet ended, and they await with\npatience the rising of some new man of genius amongst them, who will\ncombine the qualities of the popular leader with.'the attributes of\nthe scholar, and will give body and form to the ideas elaborated by the\nReformers. As a religious society they desire to remain distinct. But\nas citizens, they are eager to remove whatever distinctions still hamper\ntheir intercourse with their neighbors of other creeds. Never has the\ndesire to return to Palestine and retrieve their lost nationality been\nmore foreign to their sentiments than at the present day, though recent\nspeculations have misled many to believe otherwise. They know they can\nno more return thither. They would not if they could. They love the land\nof their birth; they wish to join their labors with those of others in\npromoting the progress of the entire human race. They have ceased to\nregret the past, and desire nothing more earnestly than to live in the\npresent and for the future.\n\nTHE END.","title":"Creed and Deed: A Series of Discourses","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":63521}