{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_41280/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_41280","id":"gutenberg_41280","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41280","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Unitarianism"],"text":"CHRISTIANITY\n\n  AND\n\n  MODERN THOUGHT.\n\n\n\n\n  BOSTON:\n  AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION.\n  1873.\n\n\n\n\n  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by\n\n  THE AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION,\n\n  In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.\n\n\n\n\n  CAMBRIDGE:\n  PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nThe following discourses were delivered in Boston, at Hollis-Street\nChurch, on successive Sunday evenings, and repeated at King's Chapel on\nMonday afternoons, during the winter of 1871-72, in response to an\ninvitation of the Executive Committee of the American Unitarian\nAssociation, whose purpose was thus declared in the letter of\ninvitation:--\n\n     \"It is not proposed that the course shall be a merely popular one,\n     to awaken the indifferent and interest them in familiar religious\n     truths; but rather to meet the need of thoughtful people perplexed\n     amid materialistic and sceptical tendencies of the time. Nor is it\n     desired simply to retrace in controversial method the beaten paths\n     of sectarian or theological debate; but rather, in the interest of\n     a free and enlightened Christianity, to present freshly the\n     positive affirmations of faith.\"\n\nThe several discourses were prepared independently, without conference\nor concerted plan; and for their statements and opinions the\nresponsibility rests solely with their respective authors.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                     PAGE\n\n  Introduction                                          v\n\n  Break between Modern Thought and Ancient Faith\n    and Worship                                         3\n\n          By Henry W. Bellows.\n\n\n  A True Theology the Basis of Human Progress          35\n\n          By James Freeman Clarke.\n\n\n  The Rise and Decline of the Romish Church            61\n\n          By Athanase Coquerel, Fils.\n\n\n  Selfhood and Sacrifice                              101\n\n          By Orville Dewey.\n\n\n  The Relation of Jesus to the Present Age            129\n\n          By Charles Carroll Everett.\n\n\n  The Mythical Element in the New Testament           157\n\n          By Frederic Henry Hedge.\n\n\n  The Place of Mind in Nature and Intuition in Man    179\n\n          By James Martineau.\n\n\n  The Relations of Ethics and Theology                209\n\n          By Andrew P. Peabody.\n\n\n  Christianity: What it is not, and what it is        231\n\n          By G. Vance Smith.\n\n\n  The Aim and Hope of Jesus                           273\n\n          By Oliver Stearns.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BREAK BETWEEN MODERN THOUGHT\n\nAND\n\nANCIENT FAITH AND WORSHIP.\n\nBy HENRY W. BELLOWS.\n\n\nThere is evidently a growing disrelish, in an important portion of the\npeople of our time, for professional religion, technical piety, and\ntheological faith. These were always unpopular with youth, and people in\nthe flush of life and spirits; but this was because they called\nattention to grave and serious things; and youth, as a rule, does not\nlike even the shadow of truth and duty to fall too early or too steadily\nupon it. Restraint, care, thoughtfulness, it resists as long as it can;\nand none who recall their own eager love of pleasure and gayety, in the\nspring-time of life, can find much difficulty in understanding or\nexcusing it. Of course, too, careless, self-indulgent, sensual, and\nfrivolous people have always disliked the gravity, and the faith and\ncustoms, of people professing religion, and exhibiting special\nseriousness. They were a reproach and a painful reminder to them, and\nmust be partially stripped of their reproving sanctity, by ridicule,\ncharges of hypocrisy, and hints of contempt. But, all the while this was\ngoing on, the youth and frivolity of previous generations expected the\ntime to come when they must surrender their carelessness, and be\nconverted; and even the worldly and scoffing shook in their secret\nhearts at the very doctrines and the very piety they caricatured. The\nold relations of master and pupil describe almost exactly the feeling\nwhich youth and levity held toward instituted faith and piety, a\ngeneration or two since. The schoolboy, indeed, still thinks himself at\nliberty to call his master nick-names, to play tricks upon him, and to\ntreat with great levity, among his fellow-pupils, all the teaching and\nall the rules of the school. But he nevertheless sincerely respects his\nteacher; believes in him and in his teachings, and expects to derive an\nindispensable benefit from them, in preparing himself for his coming\ncareer. So it was with the religion and piety of our fathers. The people\nprofoundly respected the creed, the elders in piety, and the eminent\nsaints in profession and practice, although the young had their jibes\nand jests, their resistance to church-going, their laugh at sanctimony;\nand the majority of people then, as now, were not fond of the restraints\nof piety, or the exercises of devotion.\n\nBut the alienation to which I wish to draw your attention now is\nsomething quite different from the natural opposition of the young to\nserious thoughts; or the gay, to grave matters; or those absorbed in the\npresent, to what belongs to the future; or of those charmed with the use\nof their lower or more superficial faculties and feelings, to the\nsuggestions and demands of their deeper and nobler nature. That the body\nshould not readily and without a struggle submit to the mind; that\nthoughtlessness should not easily be turned into thoughtfulness; that\nyouth should not readily consent to wear the moral costume of maturity,\nor the feelings and habits of riper years; that the active, fresh,\ncurious creature, who has just got this world with its gay colors in\nhis eye, should not be much attracted by spiritual visions, and should\nfind his earthly loves and companions more fascinating than the\ncommunion of saints or the sacred intercourse of prayer,--all this, to\nsay the least of it, is very explicable, and belongs to all generations,\nand hardly discourages the experienced mind, more than the faults and\nfollies of the nursery the wise mother who has successfully carried many\nolder children through them all.\n\nIt is quite another kind of antipathy and disrelish which marks our\ntime. It is not confined to youth, nor traceable to levity and\nthoughtlessness. The Church and its creed on one side, the world and its\npractical faith on the other, seem now no longer to stand in the\nrelation of revered teachers and dull or reluctant pupils; of\nseriousness, avoided by levity; of authoritative truth, questioned by\nbold error; of established and instituted faith, provoking the\ncriticisms of impatience, caprice, ignorance, or folly. An antagonism\nhas arisen between them as of oil and water,--a separation which is\nneither due to period of life, nor stage of intelligence, nor even to\nworth of character; which does not separate youth from maturity, the\nthoughtless from the thinking, the bad from the good, but divides the\ncreeds, observances, and professions of Christians, from a large body of\npeople who insist that after a certain fashion they are Christians too,\nand yet will have little or nothing to do with professions of faith, or\npious pretensions, or religious ways of feeling, talking, or acting.\n\nClearly, it would not do any longer to say that the worth and virtue and\ninfluence of society, in this country, could be estimated by the number\nof communicants in the churches, by the degree of credit still given to\nany of the long-believed theological dogmas, deemed in the last\ngeneration the sheet-anchors of the State. We all know hundreds of\npeople, who could sign no creed, and give no theological account of\ntheir faith, whom we do not count as necessarily less worthy in the\nsight of God or man than many who have no difficulty in saying the whole\nAthanasian Creed. Nay, there are some millions of people in this\ncountry, not the least intelligent or useful citizens in all cases, who\nnever enter a church-door. A generation or two back, you would safely\nhave pronounced all these absentees to be worldly, careless people,\ninfidels, atheists, scoffers. Do you expect to find them so now? Some,\nof course, but not the majority. Indeed, you would find a great many of\nthese people supporting churches, to which their families go, and not\nthemselves; or to which others go, for whom they are glad to provide the\nopportunity. They would tell you, if they could discriminate their own\nthoughts, something like this: \"Public worship and church organizations,\nand creeds and catechisms, and sermons and ceremonies, and public\nprayers and praises, are doubtless very good things, and very useful up\nto a certain stage of intelligence, and for a certain kind of character.\nBut we have discovered that the real truth and the real virtue of what\npeople have been misnaming religion is a much larger, freer, and more\ninteresting thing than churches, creeds, ministers, and saints seem to\nthink it. Here is this present life, full of occupations and earnest\nstruggles and great instructions. Here is this planet, not a thousandth\npart known, and yet intensely provoking to intelligent curiosity; and\nscience is now every day taking a fresh and an ever bolder look into it;\nand we want our Sundays to follow these things up. That is our idea of\nworship. Then, again, the greatest philosophers are now writing out\ntheir freest, finest thoughts about our nature; and, if we go to church,\nwe are likely to find some fanatical and narrow-minded minister warning\nus against reading or heeding what these great men say; and it is a\nthousand times fresher and grander and more credible than what he says\nhimself! Why, the very newspapers, the earnest and well-edited ones,\ncontain more instruction, more warning, more to interest the thoughtful\nmind, than the best sermons; and why should a thinking man, who needs to\nkeep up with the times, and means to have his own thoughts free, go\nwhere duty or custom makes it common to frown upon inquiry, doubt, and\nspeculation,--to shut out knowledge and testimony, and stamp a man with\na special type of thinking or professing?\"\n\nFor there are, you observe,--in justice to these thoughts,--these two\ninstructors to choose between in our generation. Here is the Church,\nwith its ecclesiastical usages and its pious exhortations; its Sunday\nschool for the children; its devotional meeting in the week, and its\nSunday teaching and worship,--all acknowledged as good for those that\nlike them, and are willing to accept what people thought or believed was\ntrue a hundred or five hundred years ago; and here is the modern press,\nwith the wonderful profusion of earnest and able books, cheap and\nattractive, and treating boldly all subjects of immediate and of\npermanent interest; and here are the reviews, quarterly and monthly,\nthat now compress into themselves and popularize all that these books\ncontain, and furnish critical notices of them; and then, again, here are\nthe newspapers, wonderful in variety and ability, that hint at, suggest,\nand bring home all the new and fresh thoughts of the time. And the\nmarvel is, that most of these books, reviews, papers, are in the\ninterest of, and seem inspired by, something larger, freer, fresher,\ntruer, than what the churches and the creeds are urging. Thus church\nreligion and general culture do not play any longer into each other's\nhands. If you believe what the men of science, the philosophers, the\npoets and critics, believe, you cannot believe, except in a very general\nway, in what the creeds and churches commonly profess. Accordingly, the\nprofessors in college, the physicians, the teachers, the scientists, the\nreformers, the politicians, the newspaper men, the reviewers, the\nauthors, are seldom professing Christians, or even church-goers; and if\nthey do go to church from motives of interest or example, they are free\nenough to confess in private that they do not much believe what they\nhear.\n\nAssuming that this is a tolerably correct account--although doubtless\nexaggerated for pictorial effect--of the existing state of things among\nthe reading and thinking class of this country, what is the real\nsignificance of it? Is it as new as it seems? Is it as threatening to\nthe cause of religious faith as it seems? Reduced to its most general\nterms, is it any thing more or other than this? The faith and worship of\nthis generation, and the experience and culture of a portion of this\ngeneration, have temporarily fallen out; and, as in all similar\nquarrels, there is, for the time, helpless misunderstanding, mutual\njealousy and misrepresentation. The faith and piety of the time\npronounce the culture, the science, the progressive philanthropy, the\npolitics, the higher education and advanced literature, to be godless\nand Christless; and the culture of the age retaliates, perhaps, with\nstill greater sincerity, in pronouncing the faith and worship of the\ntime to be superstitious, antiquated, sentimental, and specially fitted\nonly to people willing to be led by priests and hireling ministers.\n\nNow, if this were a quarrel between experience and inexperience, between\ngood and bad, between truth and falsehood, it would be easy to take\nsides. But faith and knowledge have both equal rights in humanity.\nPeople who are sincerely in love with knowledge and science and\nphilosophy are not thereby made enemies of God or man; certainly are not\nto be discouraged and abused for their devotion to practical and\nscientific truth, their search for facts, their interest in the works of\nthe Creator, even if they are not possessed of what the church properly\ncalls faith and piety. And, on the other hand, however shocked\nestablished faith and piety may naturally be by the handling which\nreligion and its creeds and worship receive from modern inquisitors,\nought the deeper believers to be seriously alarmed for the safety of its\nroot or its healing leaves, on account of the shaking which the tree of\nlife is now receiving? However slow science and culture may often show\nthemselves to be in recognizing the fact, can any reasonable and\nimpartial mind, acquainted with history or human nature, believe that\nfaith itself is an inconstant or perishable factor in our nature? prayer\na childish impulse, which clear-seeing manhood must put away? the\nconscience, not the representative of a holiness enthroned over the\nmoral universe, but an artificial organ, which social convenience has\ndeveloped, much like the overgrown liver in the Strasburg goose? In\nshort, who that considers the part that faith and worship have played in\nthe history of the race, can doubt their essential and permanent place\nin human fortunes? The question of _some_ religion, of _some_ worship,\nfor the people, does not seem debatable. The only alternative among\nnations has been a religion in which mystery, awe, and fear prevailed,\nclothing themselves in dread and bloody sacrifices, or else a religion\nin which more knowledge, more reason, more love, embodied themselves in\na simpler and gentler ritual. The nations have had only a choice--not\nalways a wholly voluntary one--between terrific superstitions and more\nor less reasonable religions. Christianity has prevailed in civilized\nnations, since Constantine, by accommodating its theological dogmas and\nexternal ritual to the needs of successive eras; beginning with coarser\nand more heathenish symbols, and running itself clearer and more clear,\nas the mind and taste and experience of the race have developed\n\"sweetness and light.\" But does this make Christianity only a human\ngrowth, and so predict a coming decay, which many seem to think has\nalready begun? On the contrary, the decisive fact about Christianity is,\nthat, while its intellectual history is changing, its early records are\nin form fixed and permanent, and that its real progress has been\nuniformly a return towards its original simplicity. Other faiths\ndevelop. It is we who develop under Christianity, and are slowly changed\nunto the original likeness of Christ. Christ's statements, Christ's\ncharacter, Christ's words, do not become antiquated. We are not called\nupon to explain away, as superstitions of the time, any of the _certain_\nwords he said, or thoughts he had, or commandments he left. True, there\nare critical embarrassments about the record, and room enough to\nquestion how it was made up; and we cannot always trust the reporters of\nthat age, or our own. But when we get, as we certainly do get in\nhundreds of cases, at Christ's own words; or when we really see--as by a\nhundred vistas, through all the _d\u00e9bris_ and rubbish of the age, we may\nsee--the true person and bearing and spirit of Jesus, we behold, we\nrecognize, we know, a Being who, transferred to this age, and placed in\nthe centre of the choicest circle of saints and sages whom culture and\nscience and wisdom could collect, would bear just the same exalted\nrelation of superiority to them that he did to the fishermen and\npublicans and kings and high-priests and noble women and learned rabbis\nof his own day. We should not hesitate, any more than they did, to call\nhim Master and Lord; to say, \"To whom else shall we go? Thou hast the\nwords of eternal life.\"\n\nThose, then, who fear that true culture, that science or philosophy\nboldly pushed, that learning and logic impartially applied,--whether in\nstudying God's method in creation, or his method in revelation,--can\ninjure permanently faith and piety, or endanger Christianity, as a\nwhole, must either think the religious wants of man very shallow or very\nartificial, or the providence of God very easily baffled, and the\nharmony of his word and works very badly matched. If there be in nature\nor in man, in earth or in our dust, in chemistry, astronomy,\nanthropology; in geology, the language of dead eras; or in language, the\ngeology of buried races, any thing that disproves the existence and\nprovidence of a living God, the holiness and goodness and\ntrustworthiness of his character; the moral and religious nature of man,\nhis accountableness, his immortality; the divine beauty and sinless\nsuperiority of Jesus Christ, and the essential truth of his\nreligion,--by all means let us know it! Why should we allow ourselves\nto be beguiled by fables and false hopes and make-believes? But the\nfaith of religious experience, the confidence of those who know and love\nand have become spiritually intimate with the gospel of Jesus Christ, is\nusually such that they would sooner mistrust their senses than their\nsouls. They have found a moral and spiritual guidance, a food and\nmedicine in their Christian faith, which enables them calmly to say to\ncriticism, to science, to culture, \"We do not hold our faith, or\npractise our worship, by your leave, or at your mercy.\" Faith leans\nfirst on the spiritual nature of man, and not on demonstrable science.\nIt would not be faith, if it were only a sharper sight. It is insight,\nnot sight. It springs from its own root, not primarily from the\nintellect. As we love our wives and children with something besides the\njudgment, or the logical faculty, so we love God with the heart, and not\nwith the understanding. We stand erect, with open eyes, when we are\nseeking truth; we fall on our knees with closed eyelids, when we are\nseeking God! Religion is not the rule of three, but the golden rule; it\nis not the major and minor premises and copula of logic, but the sacred\ninstinct of the soul, which Jesus Christ has satisfied, and guided, and\nowned, and directed, in an inestimable way.\n\nBut when faith and worship have taken this true and independent tone,\nlet them not join the foolish bigots, who think that because faith rests\non other foundations than science, therefore it owes nothing to science\nand culture, and can wholly separate its fortunes and future from them.\nTrue, _faith_ and _culture_, religion and science, in spite of their\ngeneral and permanent agreement and connection, when they cannot get on\nhonestly together, had better for the time separate; for they embarrass\neach other, and it is in their insulation that they sometimes ripen and\nprepare in separate crucible elements that are ultimately to blend in a\nfiner compound than either ever knew before. Thus faith, driving science\nand culture out of her cell, and closing the doors on fact and\nobservation, wrapt in devotion, has sometimes caught visions of God\nthrough her purely spiritual atmosphere, which sages in their\nlaboratories have never seen. The great religious inspirations have not\ncome from scholars, but from seers; from men of soul, not men of sense.\n\"How knoweth this man letters, having never learned?\" said his\ncontemporaries of Christ. Well, he knew no letters, but he had what\nletters never teach,--divine wisdom! He knew God, that end of knowledge;\nhe knew man, that last of philosophy. Faith therefore often recruits\nitself in a temporary divorce from science, just as Romanism profitably\ndrives her priests into periodical retreats for prayer and exclusive\nmeditations on God and Christ. It is beautiful to study even those\nhumble and uninstructed Christian sects, whose simple and implicit faith\nis protected, yes, and exalted, by their providential indifference to\nscience or unacquaintance with speculative difficulties. It is not their\nignorance that kindles their devotion, but it is faith's vitality, which\nin certain exceptional natures and times beams and glows most purely,\nfed only on its own sacred substance. When you have reached the inner\nkernel of a true Moravian, or even a true Catholic heart, and found a\nsolid core of faith, unsupported by any other evidence than that which\nthe Scripture described in the words, \"Faith is the substance of things\nhoped for, the evidence of things not seen,\" you have gone far towards\nfathoming the holiest secret in our nature, the well of living water.\nAnd, on the other hand, how much better, both for faith and science,\nthat science should, at a time like this, go without religious ends into\nphysical or metaphysical pursuits, investigate, inquire, test, question,\nin absolute independence of theological or spiritual results. It is only\nwhen thus free and bold and uncommitted that her testimony is worth any\nthing. Think of Newton, meditating and exploring the solar system, in\nthe simple love of truth, without let or hindrance from ecclesiastical\nintermeddlers, and compare him with Galileo, lifting his telescope under\nthe malediction of the priesthood of Rome.\n\nNo: let science be as free as light, as brave as sunbeams, as honest as\nphotography! Encourage her to chronicle her conclusions with fearless\nand unreproached fidelity. She will doubtless make many things which\nhave been long associated with religion look foolish and incredible. But\nit is only so religion can shed some husks, and get rid of some\nembarrassments. It is, in short, only just such assaults and criticisms\nfrom science and experience that ever induces religion to strain out the\nflies from her honey; to dissociate what is accidental in faith from\nwhat is essential and permanent. And, when science and culture have\ngathered in the full harvest of this wonderful season of discovery and\nspeculation, we may expect to find faith stripped of many garments, now\nworshipped, which ignorance and fear put upon her for protection and\ndefence; but really strengthened in substance, by the free movements\nallowed her lungs, and the dropping of the useless load upon her back.\nThen, too, science and philosophy will again resume their places at the\nfeet of the master-principle in our nature, until again driven away, by\nnew disagreements, to return again by the discovery of a finer harmony.\n\nSelf-culture will never supersede worship, more than golden lamps\nburning fragrant oils will ever supersede the sun; more than digging and\nhoeing and planting will supersede sunshine and rain from heaven.\nSelf-culture? Yes: by all means, and in any amount, but not as an end.\nWhen people look to ornamental gardening for the crops that are to feed\nthe famine-smitten world, and not to the pastures and prairies, as they\nlie in the light of the common sun, they will look to self-culture for\nthe characters, the hearts, the souls that glorify God and lift and\nbless the world. \"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,\nand thy neighbor as thyself.\" That is the irrepealable law of growth.\n\"Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all other\nthings shall be added unto you.\" Worship, faith, duty, devotion to God,\nChrist, humanity, to justice, freedom, truth,--these, and not\nself-culture, have lifted the race and the world. Learn, acquire,\ncultivate, improve, develop yourselves, by art, music, reading,\nlanguages, study, science, experience, but do it all in seeking to know\nand love and serve God and man. Seek to know Christ, and you will learn\nmore, indirectly, than though you sought all knowledge without this\nthirst. Seek to know God, and you shall find all science and culture\nhealthful, sacred, harmonious, satisfying, and devout.\n\nThe break between modern thought and ancient creeds and worship, thus\nconsidered, though serious, and worth the utmost pains to heal, by all\narts that do not conceal or salve over, without curing the wound, is not\npermanently discouraging to earnest and well-considered Christian\nfaith. Nor are all the signs of the times one way. For--after all that\nhas been said about the restless and dissatisfied condition of the\ncritical and conscious thought of the time, and the scepticism of the\nlearned, or the speculative class, or of the new thinkers born of the\nphysical progress of the age, and the decay of worship in the literary\nand artistic, the editorial and poetical circles--it remains to be said,\nthat, leaving this important and valuable body of people aside,--not\nbadly employed, and not without personal warrant for their doubts and\nwithdrawal from positive institutions,--there remains a mighty majority,\non whom the Christian religion and historical faith and the external\nchurch have a vigorous and unyielding hold; whose practical instincts\nand grand common-sense and hereditary experience anchor them safely in\npositive faith, while the scepticism raves without and blows itself\nclear, and passes over. Christianity first addressed itself to common\npeople, not to avoid criticism, but to secure the attention of the moral\naffections and the spiritual powers, instead of the meaner\nunderstanding. It has lived on the heart and conscience and needs and\nyearnings of the masses, from and to whom practical wisdom and fixed\ninstitutions and simple faith always come and always return. Common\nsense is not the sense that is common, but the sense that is _in_\ncommon. And popular faith is not the faith of private ignorance massed,\nbut of that wisdom which alone enables ignorant people to find a basis\nfor feelings and actions that all feel to be beyond and above their\nprivate ignorance or self-will. The common people were the first to hear\nChrist gladly: they will be the last to hear any who deny him.\n\nIt is easy to exaggerate the decline of modern faith, and to misread the\ntendencies of the time on which we have been dwelling. Thus, paradox\nthough it seem, it were just as true to say that more people are\ndeliberately interested in Christian faith and worship to-day than at\nany previous era in the history of our religion, as to asseverate that\nmore people doubt and regret it than ever before. Both statements are\ntrue; and they are reconciled only by the fact that it is only in this\ncentury that the claims of faith and worship have been popularly\ndebated, or that the people were expected or allowed to have any\nindependent opinion about them. The general soil of our humanity is for\nthe first time surveyed and sown; and it is found that, with more\n_wheat_ than ever, there are also more _tares_. With more intelligent\nand convinced worshippers, there are more wilful or logical neglecters\nof worship; with more genuine believers, more sceptics; with more\nreligious activity, more worldliness. Without an army in the field,\nthere will be no deserters; without a common currency of genuine coin,\nno counterfeits; without a formidable body of affirmers, few deniers.\n\nThe positive institutions of Christianity decline in one form, to spring\ninto new life in other and better forms. Doubtless, fourfold more money\nis expended to-day upon temples of worship than in what have been\nfalsely called the ages of faith,--rather the ages of acquiescence.\nReligion does not decline as a costly interest of humanity with the\nprogress of doubt, freedom, intelligence, science, and economic\ndevelopment. It is a permanent and eternal want of man, and is always\npresent, either as a vast, overshadowing superstition, or as a more or\nless intelligent faith. Nowhere has it a stronger hold on society than\nin free America, which false prophets, with their faces to the past,\nmuttered was about to become its grave. This busy, delving, utilitarian\ncountry, without a past, denied the influence of ruins and the memory of\nmythic founders, a land without mystery or poetry,--how could so tender\nand venerable a sentiment as reverence live in its garish day? how so\nsweet a nymph as Piety kneel in its muddy marts of trade, or chant her\nprayers in its monotonous wilderness, ringing with the woodman's axe or\nthe screeching saw? But now delegates of all the great religious bodies\nin the Old World are visiting America, for religious instruction and\ninspiration. Nowhere, it is confessed, is there to be found a people so\ngenerally interested in religion, ready to make so great sacrifices for\nit, or so deeply convinced that its principles and inspirations are at\nthe root of all national prosperity. Nowhere do churches and chapels\nspring up with such rapidity, and in such numbers; nowhere is the\nministry as well supported, or its ministers as influential members of\nsociety; nowhere do plain men of business and intelligence, I do not say\nof science and philosophy, participate so freely in religious worship.\nAnd since all political compulsion has been taken off from the support\nof religion, and it has been made purely voluntary, its interests have\nreceived even more care. There is little doubt that the decline of\nreligious establishments, the decay of priestly authority, the complete\nwithdrawal of governmental patronage, the discrediting of the principle\nof irrational fear, the dispersion of false dogmas, the clearing up of\nsuperstition, the growth of toleration and charity, instead of weakening\ntrue faith or lessening public worship, will greatly increase and\nstrengthen both. For it is not man's ignorance, weakness, and fears,\nthat lead him most certainly to Christian worship and faith. There is a\nworship and a faith of blindness and dread; but they have no tendency to\ndevelop a moral and spiritual sense of the character of God, or the\ncharacter becoming man, or to survive the spread of general intelligence\nand mental courage. If thought, if courage of mind, if inquiry and\ninvestigation, if experience and learning and comprehensive grasp, if\nlight and sound reason, and acquaintance with human nature, tended to\nabolish a living God from the heart and faith of man, to disprove the\nessential truths of Christianity, or to make life and the human soul\nless sacred, aspiring, and religious, the world would be on its rapid\nway to atheism. But I maintain that science itself, philosophy and free\ninquiry, however divorced from religious institutions and dogmas, were\nnever so humble, reverential, and Christian as since they partly\nemancipated themselves from theological or ecclesiastical censure and\nsuspicion. For ages science knelt to religion as she went to her\ncrucible or laboratory, like the sexton passing the altar in a Catholic\ncathedral, and with as little thought or feeling as he, simply to avert\ncensure, while she pursued inquiries she knew would banish the\nsuperstition she pretended to honor. Faith and knowledge were at\nopposite poles; religious truth and scientific truth, finally and\npermanently amenable to different standards. How dishonoring to religion\nwas this distrust of light and knowledge! how faithless in God, this\nfaith in him which could not bear investigation! how compromising to\nChristianity, the sort of trust which refuses as blasphemous the\napplication of all the tests and proofs which are required in the\ncertification of every other important conviction! Religious faith rests\non the spiritual nature; but its basis is not less real for being\nundemonstrable, like the axioms of mathematics. That is not real faith\nwhich dares not investigate the grounds of its own being. It is\nirreverent to God, to affirm that he does not allow us to try his ways;\nto demand proofs of his existence and righteous government; to ask for\nthe credentials of his alleged messengers; to doubt until we are\nrationally convinced. If the artificial feeling that faith is opposed to\nreason; religious truth to universal truth; that belief in unseen things\nis less rational or less capable of verification than the radical\nbeliefs of the senses,--if these prejudices were sound, or not the\nreverse of true, the world would be on its inevitable way to universal\ninfidelity and godless materialism. But is that the tendency of things?\nIs it that religion is growing _less_ mystic? or only science more so?\nHave not real and affecting mysteries been very much transferred for the\ntime from theology to philosophy, from the priest to the professor? I\ndoubt very much whether men of science are not more truly on their knees\nthan men of superstition, in our days. Never did such candor, such\nconfessions of baffled insight, such a sense of inscrutable wisdom and\npower, such a feeling of awe and dependence, seem to prevail in science\nas now, when so many theologians are raising the eyebrow, and seeking to\nalarm the world at what they call the atheism of the most truth-loving,\nearnest, and noble men. I would sooner have the scepticism--reverent and\nhonest and fearless--of these solemn and awed inquisitors in the inner\nshrines of nature, than the faith of self-bandaged priests, who are\nthinking to light the way to heaven with candles on the mid-day altar,\nor to keep faith in God alive only by processions in vestments of purple\nand gold.\n\nNor has Christianity any thing permanently to fear from the disposition\nwhich now so largely prevails, to separate it from its accidents, its\naccretions, and its misrepresentations. The days have not long gone by\nwhen men were counted as entitled to little respect, if they did not\nwear side-swords and bag-wigs. You recollect how our Benjamin Franklin\nsurprised, shocked, and then delighted all Europe, by appearing at the\ncourt of France in plain citizen's clothes? Religion, too, has had her\ncourt-dress, and her sounding court-titles, and official robes, and\ncircuitous ceremonies. The world has felt horror-stricken whenever any\nbrave and more believing spirit has ventured to ask the meaning of one\nof these theological tags and titles. But how much less wholesome is\nliving water, if drunk out of a leaf, or the palm of one's hand, than if\npresented on a salver, in a curiously jewelled flagon, by a priest in\nlivery? How much has theological ingenuity of statement and systematic\ndivinity, which it takes the study of a life to understand, added to the\npower of the simplicity of Christ as he unfolds himself in the Sermon on\nthe Mount? Yet, if any one has dared to be as simple as Christ himself\nwas in his own faith, he has been said to deny the Lord that bought him.\nIt has been called infidelity, to think Christ meant only just what he\nsaid, and was understood to say, in his simple parables. You must\nbelieve something not less incredible and abstruse than the church\nTrinity; something not less contrary to natural justice and common sense\nthan the church vicarious atonement; something not less cruel and\nvindictive than the eternal misery of all who through ignorance, birth,\nor accident, or even perversity and pride, do not hear of, or do not\naccept, the blood of Christ as their only hope of God's mercy and\nforgiveness, or you are no Christian. Now I hold these dogmas themselves\nto be unchristian in origin and influence, although held by many\nexcellent Christian men. I believe that they are the main obstacles with\nmany honest, brave, and enlightened men in our day, to their interest in\npublic worship; and that millions repudiate the Church, and\nChristianity, which is a different thing, simply because they suppose\nher to be responsible for these barnacles upon the sacred ship. It would\nbe just as reasonable to hold the Hudson River responsible for the filth\nthe sewers of the city empty into it; or to hold the sun answerable for\nthe changes in its beams, caused by the colored glass in church-windows.\n\nChristianity, the Christianity of Christ, is simple, rational,\nintelligible, independent of, yet in perfect harmony,--if it be often an\nunknown harmony,--with philosophy, ethics, science; true, because from\nGod, the God of nature as well as grace; true, because the transcript of\nself-evident and self-proving principles; true, because guaranteed by\nour nature; true, because of universal application, unimpeached by time\nor experience. It affirms the being and authority of a righteous, holy,\nand all-loving God, whom man can serve and love and worship because he\nis made in his image; can know, by studying himself; and to whom man is\ndirectly related by reason, conscience, and affections. It affirms\ndivine science and worship to consist in obedience to God's laws,\nwritten on man's heart, and for ever urged by God's Spirit. It affirms\nthe present and persistent penalty, the inevitable consequences, of all\nmoral and spiritual wrong-doing and disobedience; the present and future\nblessedness of well-doing and holiness. It sets forth Jesus Christ as\nthe Son of God and Son of Man,--appellations that, deeply considered,\nreally mean the same thing,--the direct messenger, representative, and\nplenipotentiary of God,--his perfect moral image. It insists upon men's\nputting themselves to school to Christ, honoring, loving, and following\nhim; forming themselves into classes,--another name for churches,--and\nby prayer, meditation, and study of his life, informing their minds and\nhearts, and shaping their wills in his likeness, which is the ideal of\nhumanity. Its clear object is to dignify and ennoble man, by presenting\nGod as his father; to show him what his nature is capable of, by\nexhibiting Christ in the loveliness, sanctity, and power of his awful\nyet winning beauty; to make him ashamed of his own sins, and afraid of\nsin, by arousing moral sensibility in his heart; safely to fence in his\npath by beautiful and sacred customs,--the tender, simple rites of\nbaptism and communion; the duty of daily prayer, the use of the\nScriptures, and respect for the Lord's Day.\n\nHere is a Christianity without dogmatic entanglement; plain, direct,\nearnest, simple, defensible, intelligible to a child, yet deep enough to\nexhaust a life's study. For it is the simplicities of religion that are\nthe permanent and glorious mysteries that never tire. They draw our\nchildhood's wonder, our manly reverence, and age's unquenched curiosity\nand awe. Do we ever tire of the stars, or the horizon, or the blue sky,\nor the dawn, or the sunset, or running water, or natural gems? Do we\never tire of the thought of a holy, all-wise, all-good Spirit of\nspirits, our God and our Father, or of hearing of the reverence and\ntrust, the obedience and the love, due to him? Do we ever tire of Jesus\nChrist, considered as the sinless image, within human limitations, of\nGod's love and truth and mercy and purity? Do we ever tire of hearing\nthe wondrous story of his obedient, disinterested, and exalted life and\nsacrifice? or of the call to follow his graces and copy his perfections\ninto our own hearts and lives? Are we ever weary of hearing of the\nblessed hope of immortality, with the comfortable expectation of\nthrowing off the burden of our flesh, and winging our way in spiritual\nfreedom nearer to God and the light of our Master's face? Who can\nexhaust, who can add to, the real force and attraction and fulness of\nthose truths and promises? Truly received, they grow with every day's\ncontemplation and use; they fill the soul with an increasing awe and\njoy; they prove only less common-place as they are more nearly\napproached, more copious as they are more drawn upon, and more sacred as\nthey are more familiar.\n\nIt is the common, simple, universal truths that are the great,\ninexhaustible, powerful, and never-wearying truths. But doubtless it\nrequires courage, personal conviction, and self-watchfulness, to\nmaintain personal piety or religious institutions under free and\nenlightened conditions, when they are just beginning. When sacramental\nmysteries are exploded, when the official sanctity of the ministry is\ndisowned, when the technical and dogmatic conditions of acceptance with\nGod are abandoned, when every man's right of private judgment is\nconfessed, when common sense is invited into the inner court of faith,\nwhen every man is confessed to be a king and a priest in that temple of\nGod which he finds in his own body and soul, when real, genuine goodness\nis owned as the equivalent of religion, then it is evident that the\nsupport of religious institutions, of public worship, of the church and\nthe ordinances, must appeal to something besides the ignorance, the\nfears, the superstitions, the traditions of the Christian world. They\nmust fall back on the practical convictions men entertain of their\nintrinsic importance. They must commend themselves to the sober, plain,\nand rational judgment of men of courage, reflection, and observation.\nThey fall into the same category with a government based not on the\ndivine right of kings, or the usages of past generations, the artificial\ndistinctions of ranks and classes, owing fealty each to that which is\nsocially above itself, but resting on the consent of the governed, and\nderiving its authority and its support from the sense of its usefulness\nand necessity. We have not yet achieved fully, in this country, the\npassage of the people over from the Old World status of _subjects_ to\nthe New World status of _citizens_. We are in the midst of the glorious\nstruggle for a State, a national government, which rests securely on the\nlove and service of hearts that have created it, and maintain and defend\nit on purely rational and intelligible grounds. It is so new, so\nadvanced, so sublime an undertaking, that we often falter and faint, as\nif man were not good enough, nor reasonable enough, to be entitled to\nsuch a government. We often doubt if we can bear the dilution which the\npublic virtue and good sense in our native community suffers from the\nflood of ignorance and political superstition coming with emigrants from\nother and coarser states of society and civil organizations. We are not\nhalf alive to the glory and grandeur of the experiment of free political\ninstitutions, and do not press with the zeal we ought the general\neducation, the political training, the moral discipline, which can alone\nsave the State, when it has no foundation but the good-will, the\nrespect, and the practical valuation of the people. But is the State or\nthe nation ever so truly divine as when it is owned as the voice of God,\ncalling all the people to maintain equal justice, to recognize universal\ninterests, to embody Christian ethics in public law? And despite our\nlocal mortifications and occasional misgivings, what nation is now so\nstrong and firm, what government so confident and so promising, as our\nown? What but freedom, fidelity to rational principles and ideal\njustice, give it this strength? What is it, on the other hand, but\ntraditions that represent the ignorance and accidents and injustice of\nformer ages,--what is it but authority usurped and then consecrated,\nsocial superstitions hardened into political creeds,--that is now\nproving the weakness and peril of European nationalities, and imperial\nor monarchical governments? Knowledge, science, literature, progress,\ntruth, liberty, become sooner or later the enemies of all governments,\nand all social institutions, not founded in abstract justice and equal\nrights. Yet how fearful the transition! Who can contemplate the downfall\nof the French empire, and then look at the architects of the new\nrepublic, working in the crude material of a priest-ridden or unschooled\npopulace, without dismay? Yet the process is inevitable. Democratic\nideas are abroad: they are in the air. They corrode all the base metal\nthey touch; and thrones and titles, and legalized classes, and\nexceptional prerogatives, are predestined to a rapid disintegration. How\nblessed the nation that has transferred its political homage from\ntraditions to principles; from men or families, to rights and duties;\nfrom a compromise with ancient inequality and wrong, to an affirmation\nof universal justice and right! Yet never had a people so grave and so\nconstant and so serious duties as we have. And there is nothing in our\nprinciples or government that _must_ save our country, in spite of the\nfailure of political virtue, intelligence, and devotion, in our private\ncitizens. God has buried many republics, because the people were\nunworthy of them. Their failure was no disproof of the principle\ninvolved, but only an evidence that the people fell wholly below their\nprivileges and ideas. America may add another to this list of failures,\nbut can do nothing to discredit the truth and glory and final triumph of\nthe democratic idea. I do not believe we shall fail; on the contrary, I\nhave an increasing faith in the sense and virtue and ability of the\npeople of this country. But the success of American political\ninstitutions depends very much on the success of the Christian and\nreligious institutions that match them, and are alone adapted to them.\nWe cannot long guarantee religious institutions, in a country of free\nschools, public lyceums, unlicensed newspapers, unimpeded inquiry, and\nabsolute religious equality, if they do not rest on grounds of reason\nand experience and sober truth. Mere authority, mere ecclesiasticism,\nmere sacred usages, mere mystery, or mere dogmatism, will not long\nprotect the creeds and formularies of the church. They are undergoing a\nspecies of dry-rot, like to that which the rafters of my own church\nlately suffered from the confinement and unventilated bondage in iron\nboxes in which their ends had been placed for greater security. They\nwanted air and light, and more confidence in their inherent soundness;\nand, if they had been permitted it, they would have lasted a hundred\nyears. It is precisely so with the Christian religion, boxed up in\ncreeds. It grows musty, worm-eaten, and finally loses its life and hold.\nA certain timid and constitutionally religious portion of the community\nwill cherish any creed or usage which is time-honored; and the less\nrobust and decisive minds of the time will rally about what is\nestablished and venerable, however out of date, incredible, or\nirrational. But it is what is going on in the independent and free mind\nof the common people, that should have our most serious regard. What is\nthe faith of the fairly educated young men and women who are now\nspringing up in America? Certainly, it is not, in the more gifted or the\nmost thoughtful part of it, in sympathy with any form of sacramental or\ndogmatic Christianity. It is not Trinitarian; it is not biblical; it is\nnot technical. It is hardly Christian! It is bold, independent,\ninquisitive, questioning every thing, and resolute in its rights of\nopinion. It is alienated from church and worship to a great degree. It\nsuspects the importance of religious institutions, and reads and thinks\nand worships in books of poetry and philosophy. A timid heart might\neasily grow alarmed at the symptoms, and think that irreligion, and\ndecay of worship and fellowship in the Christian Church, were upon us.\nBut sad and discouraging as the present symptoms are to many, I see more\nto hope than fear in these tendencies. They are a rebuke to formal and\ntechnical theology,--to mere ecclesiasticism, to outworn ways. They are\nbringing a violent assault upon the hard crust of a stifling belief, of\nwhich the world must get rid before the gospel of Christ can emerge, and\nbe received in its primitive simplicity. It is the only way in which\nfaith is ever purified,--by doubt and denial. The gospel requires a new\nstatement. It must come out of its ecclesiastical bulwarks. It must\nabandon its claim to any other kind of judgment than all other truth\nclaims and allows. It must place itself by the side of science,\nexperience, and philosophy, and defy their tests. It must invite the\nmost rigid investigation. It must claim its foundations in eternal\ntruth. It must prove its efficiency, not with the weak, but the strong;\nnot with the ignorant, but the learned; not with the bound, but the\nfree. And then it will recover its lost ground, and take a stronger and\ndiviner position than it ever had before.\n\nThis is the work that Liberal Christianity has in hand; a difficult,\nslow, and often discouraging work, but one that is intensely patriotic,\nintensely practical, intensely necessary. That which was the mere\nfortress into which the enlightened and free-minded people of\nMassachusetts fled for refuge from ecclesiastical tyranny, a\nhalf-century ago,--Unitarianism,--is now become a recognized crusade for\nreligious liberty for the American people. The liberty is coming fast\nenough, and surely enough; but will the worship, will the Christian\nseriousness, will the fellowship of faith, will the piety that gives\naromatic beauty as well as health to the soul, come with it? If it were\nnot to come, liberty would be only license and secularity and\nworldliness. Every firm, well-ordered, earnest and religious\ncongregation of the liberal faith; exhibiting stableness, order,\nsolemnity; doing religious work among the poor, and cultivating piety in\nits own youth; making sacrifices to its own ideas, and upholding its own\nworship,--is an argument of the most solid kind, an example of\ncontagious power, an encouragement of priceless cheer, for those who\nthink that Christian liberty necessarily leads to license and decay of\nworship; or that Christ is less revered and loved and trusted when he is\naccepted in the derived and dependent character he claimed,--the only\ntenable, rational, possible character in which a century hence he can be\nreceived by any unsuperstitious persons. We have a sacred privilege, a\nglorious opportunity. We only need to show ourselves warm, earnest,\nunited, attached to worship, fruitful in piety, devoted to good works,\nzealous for God's glory and man's redemption, sincere, humble, yet\nrational and free followers of Christ, to win an immense victory for the\ngospel in this inquiring and doubting age. I have no great _immediate_\nhopes, but hopes beyond expression in the gracious development of\nanother generation. I bate not a jot of heart or hope that absolute\nliberty in religion will favor the growth of piety, as much as political\nfreedom has favored the growth of order and peace and prosperity. Oh!\nnot a thousandth part the power of Christian truth and righteousness has\nyet been shown in the world. The love of God, the love of man, have only\nbegun their glorious mission. Christ yet waits for his true throne.\nHumanity is just come of age, and, with some wild festivity, is claiming\nits heritage. But God is with and over it; and Jesus Christ is its\ninspirer and guide. He will not lose his headship. He will be more\nfollowed when less worshipped; more truly loved when less idolized; more\ntriumphant when more clearly understood! Darkness, wrath, threats,\nenchantments, sacraments, prostrations, humiliations of reason,\nemotional transports, affectations of belief, belief for its own\nsake,--none of these things are truly favorable to Christ's kingdom or\nthe glory of his gospel. God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.\nChrist is the Sun of righteousness. When reason, conscience, affection,\nrule the world; when love and justice, and mild and tender views of life\nand humanity, of God and Christ, displace the cruel terrors and\nsuperstitions that have survived the social and political meliorations\nof the age, we shall begin to see that love is the fulfilling of the\nlaw, and liberty of thought the greatest friend of worship, the finest\nresult of Christ's coming, and the throne from which he commands the\nwhole human heart and history.\n\n\n\n\nA TRUE THEOLOGY THE BASIS\n\nOF\n\nHUMAN PROGRESS.\n\nBy JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE.\n\n\nThe subject of the present lecture is \"A True Theology the Basis of\nHuman Progress.\" And, in order to strike the key-note, and to indicate\nthe object at which I aim, I will read four or five passages from the\nNew Testament, which describe such a Theology in its spirit and root.\n\nThe Apostle Paul says:[1] \"I count not myself to have apprehended: but\nthis one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and\nreaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the\nmark.\" So he declares himself a Progressive Christian.\n\n[Footnote 1: Phil. iii. 13.]\n\nAgain he says:[2] \"We know in part, and we prophesy [or teach] in part.\nBut when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall\nbe done away.\" So he declares that all intellectual statements, his own\nincluded, are relative and provisional. He is here speaking, doubtless,\nnot of rational insights, but of the insight when elaborated by the\nintellect into a statement; not of intuitional knowledge, but that which\ncomes from reflection. In regard to all such propositions, he would\naccept the modern doctrine of the Relativity of Knowledge; thus cutting\nup by the roots the poisonous weed of Bigotry.\n\n[Footnote 2: 1 Cor. xiii. 9, 10.]\n\nAgain: \"Brethren, be not children in understanding: howbeit, in malice\nbe ye children, but in understanding be men.\"[3] He thus requires and\nauthorizes a manly, intelligent Theology.\n\n[Footnote 3: 1 Cor. xiv. 20.]\n\nAgain: \"Who also hath made us able ministers of the New Testament; not\nof the letter, but of the spirit: for the letter killeth, but the spirit\ngiveth life.\"[4] He here rejects the Theology of the letter, including\nthe doctrine of Literal Inspiration.\n\n[Footnote 4: 2 Cor. iii. 6.]\n\nAgain: \"God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of\nlove, and of a sound mind.\"[5]\n\n[Footnote 5: 2 Tim. i. 7.]\n\nMy Thesis to-night is not a truism; my argument is not unnecessary or\nuncalled for. Nothing is more common than to undervalue the importance\nof Theology; to regard it as having no bearing on life, no influence on\nhuman progress, no causative power in regard to civilization. Mr.\nBuckle, one of the most recent English philosophical historians,\ncontends that Theology is the result rather than the cause of national\ncharacter; that it is merely symptomatic of the condition of a people.\nIf they are in a good condition, they have a good Theology; if in a bad\ncondition, a bad one. He even thinks it owing to a mistaken zeal that\nChristians try to propagate their religion, because he believes that\nsavages cannot become Christians. Civilization, Mr. Buckle supposes,\ndepends greatly upon soil, upon climate, upon food, upon the\ntrade-winds; but not much upon religious ideas. He says that, in\nEngland, \"theological interests have long ceased to be supreme.\" \"The\ntime for these things has passed by.\" And this is also a very common\nopinion among ourselves. Many reformers have a notion that we have done\nwith Theology, that we can do without it. Some men of science tell us\nthat Theology has nothing to do with the advance of civilization, but\nthat this comes from discovery in the sphere of physical science. But I\nbelieve that the one thing which retards the progress of reform is a\nfalse philosophy concerning God and man, a false view of God's ideas\nconcerning this world; and that the one thing needful for Human Progress\nis a deeper, higher, broader view of God and his ways. And I hope to be\nable to show some grounds for this opinion.\n\nThe religious instinct in man is universal. Some individuals and some\nraces possess more of it, and others less; but the history of mankind\nshows that religion in some form is one of the most indestructible\nelements of human nature. But whether this religious instinct shall\nappear as faith or as fanaticism; whether it shall be a blind enthusiasm\nor an intelligent conviction; whether it shall be a tormenting\nsuperstition or a consoling peace; whether it shall lead to cruel\npersecutions or to heavenly benevolence; all this, and more, depends on\nTheology. Religion is a blind instinct: the ideas of God, man, duty,\ndestiny, which determine its development, constitute Theology.\n\nThe same law holds concerning Conscience and Ethics. Conscience in the\nform of a moral instinct is universal in man. In every human breast\nthere is a conviction that something is right and something wrong; but\nwhat that right and wrong is depends on Ethics. In every language of\nman, there are words which imply ought and ought not, duty,\nresponsibility, merit, and guilt. But what men believe they ought to do,\nor ought not to do,--that depends on the education of their conscience;\nthat is, on their Ethics.\n\nConscience, like religion, is man's strength, and his weakness.\nConscience makes cowards of us all; but it is the strong-siding champion\nwhich makes heroes of us all. Savages are cruel, pirates are cruel; but\nthey cannot be as cruel as a good man, with a misguided conscience. The\nmost savage heart has some touch of human kindness left in it, which\nnothing can quite conquer,--nothing but conscience. That can make man as\nhard as Alpine rock, as cold as Greenland ice. The torture-rooms and\n_autos da fe_ of the Inquisition surpass the cruelties of the North\nAmerican Indian. The cruelties of instinct are faint compared with the\ncruelties of conscience. Now what guides conscience to good or to evil?\nTheology, in the form of Ethics, is the guide of conscience. For, as\nsoon as man believes in a God, he believes in the authority of his God\nto direct and control his actions. Whatever his God tells him to do must\nbe right for him to do. Therefore religion in its inward form is either\na debasing and tormenting superstition or a glad faith, according to the\nTheology with which it is associated. And religion, in its outward form,\nis either an impure and cruel despotism or an elevating morality,\naccording to the idea of God and Duty which guide it; that is, according\nto its associated Theology.\n\nSome persons, like Lucretius, seeing the evils of Superstition, Bigotry,\nand Fanaticism, and perceiving that these have their root in religion,\nhave endeavored to uproot religion itself. But could this be effected,\nwhich is impossible, it would be like wishing to get rid of the\natmosphere, because it is sometimes subject to tempests, and sometimes\ninfected with malaria. Religion is the atmosphere of the soul, necessary\nto the healthful action of its life, to be purified, but not renounced.\n\nEvery one has a Theology, who has even a vague idea of a God; and every\none has this who has an idea of something higher and better than\nhimself, higher and better than any of his fellow-men. The Atheist\ntherefore may have a God, though he does not call him so. For God is not\na word, not a sound: he is the Infinite Reality which we see, more or\nless dimly, more or less truly, rising above us, and above all our race.\nThe nature of this ideal determines for each of us what we believe to be\nright or wrong; and so it is that our Theology rules our conscience, and\nthat our conscience determines with more or less supremacy the tendency\nand stress of our life.\n\nNo one can look at the History of the Human Race without seeing what an\nimmense influence religion has had in human affairs. Every race or\nnation which has left its mark on Human Progress has itself been under\nthe commanding control of some great religion. The ancient civilization\nof India was penetrated to the core by the institutions of Brahmanism;\nthe grand development of Egyptian knowledge was guided by its\npriesthood; the culture of China has been the meek disciple of Confucius\nfor two thousand years. Whenever any nation emerges out of darkness into\nlight,--Assyria, Persia, Greece, or Rome,--it comes guided and inspired\nby some mighty religion. The testimony of History is that religion is\nthe most potent of all the powers which move and govern human action.\n\nSuch is the story of the past. How is it at the present time? Has\nmankind outgrown the influence of religion to-day? Has the spread of\nknowledge, the advance of science, the development of literature, art,\nculture, weakened its power in Christendom? Never was there so much of\ntime, thought, effort, wealth, consecrated to the Christian Church as\nthere is now. Both branches of that Church, the Catholic and Protestant,\nare probably stronger to-day than they ever were before. Some few\npersons can live apart from religious institutions; but mankind cannot\ndispense with religion, and they need it organized into a Church or\nChurches.\n\nReligion is a great power, and will remain so. But what is to determine\nthe character of this power? It may impede progress or advance it; it\nmay encourage thought or repress it; it may diffuse knowledge or limit\nit; it may make men free or hold them as slaves; it may be a generous,\nmanly, free, and moral religion or a narrow, bigoted, intolerant,\nfanatical, sectarian, persecuting superstition. It has been both: it is\nboth to-day. What is to decide which it shall be? I answer, its\nTheology; the views it holds concerning God, man, duty, immortality, the\nway and the means of salvation. Religion is an immense power: how that\npower is to be directed depends on Theology.\n\nProceeding then with my theme, I shall endeavor to show how false ideas\nin Theology tend to check the progress of humanity, and afterward how\ntrue ideas always carry mankind onward along an ascending path of\nimprovement.\n\nBut first let me say that my criticism is of ideas, not of sects,\nchurches, nor individuals. By a true Theology, I mean neither a\nUnitarian nor a Trinitarian Theology, neither a Catholic nor a\nProtestant Theology. I do not mean Calvinism nor Arminianism. I have\nnothing to say concerning these distinctions, however important they\nmay be; and I, for one, consider them important. But I refer to a\ndistinction more important still, lying back of these distinctions,\nlying beneath them; a difference not of opinions so much as of ideas and\nspirit.\n\nBy a true Theology, I mean a manly Theology, as opposed to a childish\none; a free, as opposed to a servile one; a generous, as opposed to a\nselfish one; a reasonable and intelligent Theology, as opposed to a\nsuperstitious one.\n\nBy a true Theology, I mean one which regards God as a father, and man as\na brother; which looks upon this life as a preparation for a higher;\nwhich believes that God gives us freedom, inspires our reason, and is\nthe author of whatever is generous, self-forgetting, and noble. I find\nsomething of this Theology in all sects and churches; from the Roman\nCatholic at one extreme, to the Universalists and Unitarians, the\nSpiritualists and Come-outers, at the other. And the opposite, the false\nTheology, dishonorable to God, degrading to man, I find in all sects,\nand accompanying all creeds. And if I shall show, as truth compels me to\nshow, that certain parties and persons are specially exposed to danger\nin one or another direction, I wish distinctly to state my belief that\nsincere and earnest men continually rise above the contagion of their\nposition, and live untainted in an atmosphere which may have in it some\nspecial tendency to disease.\n\nOne false idea in Theology, which opposes human progress, is that\nPantheistic view of the Deity, which loses sight of his personality, and\nconceives of him as a blind, infinite force, pervading all Nature, and\ncarrying on the universe, but without intelligence and without love.\n\nI know indeed that many views have been accused of being Pantheism which\nare not. I do not believe in a God outside of the universe. I believe\nthat he is one \"in whom we live, and move, and have our being,\" one\n\"from whom, and through whom, and to whom are all things,\"--a perpetual\nCreator, immanent in his world. But this view is quite consistent with a\nbelief in his personal being, in his intelligent, conscious, loving\npurpose. Without such a belief, hope dies out of the heart; and without\nhope mankind loses the energy which creates progress. Unless we have an\nintelligent Friend who governs the universe, it will seem to be moving\nblindly on toward no divine end; and this thought eats out the courage\nof the soul.\n\nIn some poetical natures, as in the case of Shelley, this Pantheism\ntakes the form of faith in a spirit of beauty, or love, or intellectual\npower, pervading all things. In more prosaic minds it becomes a belief\nin law, divorced from love. It turns the universe into a machine, worked\nby forces whose mutual action unfolds and carries on the magnificent\nCosmos. Often this view comes, by way of a reaction, against an\nexcessive Personality of Will. When the Christian Church speaks of the\nDeity as an Infinite Power outside of the world, who creates it and\ncarries it on according to some contrivance, of which his own glory is\nthe end, it is perhaps natural that men should go to the other extreme\nand omit person, will, and design from their conception of Deity. But\nthus they encounter other and opposite dangers.\n\nA gospel of mere law is no sufficient gospel. It teaches prudence, but\nomits Providence. This utilitarian doctrine, which reduces every thing\nto law,--which makes the Deity only a Great Order, not a Father or\nFriend,--would soon put a stop to the deepest spring of human progress.\nIt takes faith and hope out of our life, and substitutes observation,\ncalculation, and prudence. But the case of Ecclesiastes and of Faust\nteaches us what comes from knowledge emptied of faith. He who increases\nsuch knowledge increases sorrow. The unknown, wonderful Father; the\ndivine, mysterious Infinite; the great supernatural power and beauty\nabove Nature, and above all,--these alone make life tolerable. Without\nthis brooding sense of a Divine love, of a Heaven beyond this world, of\na Providence guiding human affairs, men would not long have the heart to\nstudy, because all things would seem to be going nowhere. Without such a\nHeavenly Friend to trust, such an immortal progress to hope, all things\nwould seem to revolve in a circle. Not to believe in something more than\na God of Law is to be without God in the world, is to be without hope.\nAnd hope is the spring of all progress, intellectual progress as well as\nall other. Intellect, divorced from faith, at last kills intellect\nitself, by destroying its inner motive. It ends in a doctrine of\ndespair, which cries continually, \"What is the use?\" and finds no\nanswer. And so the soul dies the only death the soul can die,--the death\nof torpor and inaction.\n\nAnother false idea in Theology, which interferes with human progress, is\nthat of ecclesiastical authority in matters of faith and practice. When\nthe Church comes between the soul and God, and seeks to be its master\nrather than its servant, it takes from it that direct responsibility to\nGod, which is one of the strongest motives for human effort. I know that\nthis has always been done from a sincere desire, at any rate in the\nbeginning, to save men from apparent dangers. The Church has assumed\nauthority, in order to do good with it. It has commanded men not to\nthink for themselves, lest they should err. But God has meant that we\nshould be liable to error, in order that we should learn to avoid it by\nincreased strength. Therefore Christ said, \"Be not called Rabbi; be not\ncalled Masters, and call no man father on earth.\" His church, and his\napostles, and he himself are here, not to be masters of the soul, but to\nbe its servants.\n\nThe Roman Catholic Church is a great organization, which has gradually\ngrown up, during a thousand years, the object of which has been to\neducate men in Christian faith and Christian conduct. It has sincerely\nendeavored to do this. But, unfortunately, it took a narrow view of\nChristian education; supposing that it meant instruction and guidance,\nrestraint and tuition, but not development. It has magnified its own\nauthority, in order to produce docility in its pupils. It has not\nallowed them freedom of inquiry nor liberty of conscience. It has not\nsaid, like Paul, \"Be not children in understanding;\" on the contrary, it\nhas preferred to keep them children, so as to guide them more easily. It\nhas not said, with Paul, \"Stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ has\nmade you free;\" for it has come to hate the very name of liberty. What\nis the result? You may read it to-day in France, where, as Mr. Coquerel\ntells us, that Church has prevented the steady development of free\ninstitutions. It has always supported the principle of authority in the\nState, as the natural ally of authority in the Church. There are so few\nrepublicans in France to-day, because the people have been educated by\nthe Church to blind submission. The priests are not to blame, the people\nare not: it is the Roman Catholic Theology which is to blame. That\nTheology teaches that the soul is saved by the reception of external\nsacraments, and not by vital, independent convictions of truth.[6]\n\n[Footnote 6: The proof of this may be amply found in the famous\nEncyclical and Syllabus of Pius IX., Dec. 8th, 1864. In the Syllabus he\ndenounces as errors such propositions as the following:--\n\nThat \"every man is free to embrace and profess that religion which\nguided by the light of reason, he holds to be true.\" \u00a7 15.\n\nThat \"one may well hope, at least, for the eternal salvation of those\nwho are in no wise in the true Church of Christ.\" \u00a7 17.\n\nThat \"the Church has no power to employ force.\" \u00a7 24.\n\nThat \"men emigrating to Catholic countries should be permitted the\npublic exercise of their own several forms of worship.\" \u00a7 78.\n\nThat \"the Roman Pontiff can and ought to reconcile and harmonize himself\nwith progress, with liberalism, and with modern civilization.\" \u00a7 80.]\n\nOr, if you wish another illustration of the same thing, look at New\nYork. Why have republican institutions in New York almost proved a\nfailure? Why were a few robbers able to take possession of the city, and\nplunder the citizens? Because they could control the votes of the Irish\nCatholics in a mass; because this vast body of voters were unable to\nvote independently, or to understand the first duties of a free citizen.\nAnd why was this? Not because the Irish are naturally less intelligent\nthan the New-Englanders, the English, the Germans. No; but the Roman\nCatholic Church, which has had the supreme control over the Irish\nconscience and intellect for a thousand years, has chosen to leave them\nuneducated. Of course, the Roman Church, if it had pleased to do so,\nmight long ago have made the Irish nation as enlightened as any in\nEurope. But its Theology taught that education might lead them into\nheresy, and so take them out of the true Church, and that ignorance _in_\nthe Church was infinitely better than any amount of intellectual and\nmoral culture _out_ of it. The fatal principle of Roman Catholic\nTheology--\"Out of the true Church there is no salvation\"--has been the\nruin of the Irish nation for hundreds of years, and has very nearly\nentailed ruin on our own.\n\nDo you wonder that the priests oppose our school system? If I were a\nRoman Catholic priest, I should oppose it too. Should I run the risk of\npoisoning my child's body by accepting as a gift a little better food\nthan that I am able to buy? And shall I risk the vastly greater evil of\npoisoning its soul, by allowing it to be tainted with heretical books\nand teachers in free schools? The Roman Catholic priest is consistent:\nit is the Theology which teaches salvation by sacraments that is to\nblame. It is a theology which naturally, logically, necessarily, stands\nopposed to human progress. It says, \"In order to be children in malice,\nyou must also be children in understanding.\"\n\nWhen the Protestant Reformation came, it brought with it a manly\nTheology. It put the Bible into all men's hands, and asserted for each\nthe right of private judgment and liberty of conscience. Therefore the\nReformation was the cause of a great forward movement in human affairs.\nIt awakened the intellect of mankind. Science, literature,\ninvention,--all were stimulated by it. It ran well, but something\nhindered. Its reverence for the Bible was its life; but, unfortunately,\nit soon fell into a worship of _the letter_. It taught a doctrine of\nverbal inspiration. It forgot the great saying of Paul, \"not of the\nletter, but the spirit; for the letter killeth.\" Very soon that saying\nwas fulfilled. Reverence for the letter of the Bible killed the spirit\nof the Bible. That spirit is as free as air. It teaches no creed, it\ndemands no blind acceptance of any dogma. It declares that where the\nspirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. But the letter-theology has\nopposed nearly all the discoveries of science and all moral reforms with\nthe words of the Bible. It has set Genesis against geology, and the book\nof Psalms against the Copernican system. Because the Book of Genesis\nsays the heavens and earth were made in six days, the letter-theology\ndeclared that the fossil shells were made in the rocks just as they are,\nor were dropped by pilgrims returning from the Holy Land. Because the\nbook of Psalms said that \"God hath established the earth so that it\nshall not be moved for ever,\" the letter-theology denied its daily and\nyearly revolution. Because Noah said, \"Cursed be Canaan,\" the\nletter-theology defended the slavery of the negro. Because Noah also\nsaid, \"He who sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed,\" the\nletter-theology has defended capital punishment as a religious duty.\nBecause the Jews were commanded to rest on the seventh day, the\nletter-theology forbids the Boston Public Library to be open on the\nfirst. Becoming ever more timid and more narrow, it clings to the letter\nof the common English translation, and the received text. It even\nshrinks from alterations which would give us the true letter of the\nBible, instead of the false one.\n\nSome years ago the American Bible Society appointed a committee of the\nmost learned scholars, from all Orthodox denominations, to correct the\ntext and the translation of our common English Bible, so as to make it\nconform to the true Hebrew and Greek text. They were not to make a new\ntranslation, but merely to correct palpable, undoubted errors in the old\none. They did their work; printed their corrected Bible; laid it before\nthe Bible Society,--_and that Society refused to adopt it_. They had not\nthe slightest doubt of its superior correctness; but they feared to make\nany change, lest others might be called for, and lest the faith of the\ncommunity might be disturbed in the integrity of the Scriptures. Jesus\nhad promised them the Holy Spirit to lead them into all truth, to take\nof his truth and show it to them; but they did not believe him. They\npreferred to anchor themselves to the words chosen by King James's\ntranslators than to be led by the Spirit into any new truth. So it is\nthat \"the letter killeth.\" It stands in the way of progress. It keeps us\nfrom trusting in that ever-present Spirit which is ready to inspire us\nall to-day, as it inspired prophets and apostles of old. It is an\nevidence not of faith, but of unbelief.\n\nThus, this false idea in Theology, that inspiration rests in the letter\nof a book or a creed rather than in its spirit, is seen to be opposed to\nhuman progress.\n\nAnd then there is another Theology which is opposed to human progress.\nIt is the Theology of Fear. It speaks of hell rather than of heaven; it\nseeks to terrify rather than to encourage; it drives men by dread of\ndanger rather than leads them by hope. Its ruling idea is of stern,\nimplacable justice; its God is a God of vengeance, who cannot pardon\nunless the full penalty of sin has been borne by some victim; whose\nmercy ceases at death; who can only forgive sin during our short human\nlife, not after we have passed into the other world. To assuage his\nanger, or appease his justice, there must be devised some scheme of\nsalvation, or plan of redemption. He cannot forgive of pure, free grace,\nand out of his boundless love.\n\nNow those who hold such a Theology as this will apply its spirit in\nhuman affairs. It will go into penal legislation, into the treatment of\ncriminals. It will make punishment the chief idea, not reformation.\nJesus taught a boundless compassion, an infinite tenderness toward the\nsinful, the weak, the forlorn people of the world. He taught that the\nstrong are to bear the burdens of the weak, the righteous to help the\nwicked, and that we are to overcome evil with good. When this principle\nis applied in human affairs, the great plague spots of society will\ndisappear: intemperance, licentiousness, pauperism, crime, will be cured\nradically. Society, purified from these poisons, will go forward to\nnobler achievements than have ever yet been dreamed of. But this\nprinciple will not be applied while the fear-theology prevails, and is\nthought more of than that of love. The progress of human society depends\non the radical cure of these social evils, not their mere restraint. And\nthey can only be cured by such a view of the divine holiness and the\ndivine compassion as is taught by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount and\nthe Parable of the Prodigal Son; showing the root of crime in sin, and\ninspiring a profound faith in God's saving love.\n\nIt may seem to some persons that I go too far in asserting that a true\nTheology is at the basis of human progress. They may ascribe human\nprogress to other causes,--to the advance of knowledge, to scientific\ndiscovery, to such inventions as printing, the steam-engine, the\nrailroad, and the like. But I believe that spiritual ideas are at the\nroot of all others. That which one thinks of God, duty, and\nimmortality,--in short, his Theology,--quickens or deadens his interest\nin every thing else. Whatever arouses conscience, faith, and love, also\nawakens intellect, invention, science, and art. If there is nothing\nabove this world or beyond this life; if we came from nothing and are\ngoing nowhere, what interest is there in the world? \"Let us eat and\ndrink, for to-morrow we die.\" But if the world is full of God,--if we\ncome from him and are going to him,--then it becomes everywhere\nintensely interesting, and we wish to know all about it. Science has\nfollowed always in the steps of religion, and not the reverse. The Vedas\nwent before Hindoo civilization; the Zend-Avesta led the way to that of\nPersia; the oldest monuments of Egypt attest the presence of religious\nideas; the Laws of Moses preceded the reign of Solomon; and that\ncivilization which joined Greeks, Romans, Goths, Vandals, Franks, and\nSaxons in a common civilization, derived its cohesive power from the\nlife of Him whose idea was that love to man was another form of love to\nGod. \"The very word _humanity_,\" says Max M\u00fcller, \"dates from\nChristianity.\" No such idea, and therefore no such term, was found among\nmen before Christ came.\n\nBut it may be said that these instances are from such obscure epochs\nthat it is uncertain how far it was religion which acted on\ncivilization. Let us, then, take one or two instances, concerning which\nthere is less uncertainty.\n\nIn the deserts, and among the vast plains of the Arabian Peninsula, a\nrace had slumbered inactive for twenty centuries. Those nomad-Semitic\ntribes had wandered to and fro, engaged in perpetual internecine\nwarfare, fulfilling the prediction concerning Ishmael, \"He will be a\nwild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand\nagainst him.\" No history, no civilization, no progress, no nationality,\nno unity, could be said to exist during that long period among these\ntribes. At length a man comes with a religious idea, a living, powerful\nconviction. He utters it, whether man will bear or forbear. He proclaims\nthe unity and spirituality of God in spite of all opposition and\npersecution. At last his idea takes hold of the soul of this people.\nWhat is the result? They flame up into a mighty power; they are united\ninto an irresistible force; they sweep over the world in a few decades\nof years; they develop a civilization superior to any other then extant.\nSuddenly there springs up in their midst a new art, literature, and\nscience. Christendom, emasculated by an ecclesiastical and monastic\nTheology, went to Islam for freedom of thought, and found its best\nculture in the Mohammedan universities of Spain. Bagdad, Cairo,\nDamascus, Seville, Cordova, became centres of light to the world. The\nGerman conquerors darkened the regions they overran: the Mohammedans\nenlightened them. The caliphs and viziers patronized learning and\nendowed colleges, and some of their donations amounted to millions of\ndollars. Libraries were collected. That of a single doctor was a load\nfor four hundred camels. That of Cairo contained a hundred thousand\nmanuscripts, which were lent as freely as those in the Boston Public\nLibrary. The College Library of Cordova had four hundred thousand. In\nthese places grammar, logic, jurisprudence, the natural sciences, the\nphilosophy of Aristotle, were taught to students who flocked to them\nfrom all parts of Christendom. Many of the professors taught from\nmemory: one man is reported to have been able to repeat three thousand\npoems. The Saracens wrote treatises on geography, numismatics, medicine,\nchemistry, astronomy, mathematics. Some, like Avicenna, went through the\nwhole circle of the sciences. The Saracens invented pharmacy, surgery,\nchemistry. Geber, in the eighth century, could prepare alcohol,\nsulphuric acid, nitric acid, corrosive sublimate, potash, and soda.\nTheir astronomers measured a degree of the earth's meridian near Bagdad,\nand determined its circumference as twenty-four thousand miles. They\nfound the length of the year, and calculated the obliquity of the\necliptic. Roger Bacon quotes their treatises on optics. Trigonometry\nretains the form given it by the Arabs, and they greatly improved\nAlgebra. We received from them our numerical characters. We all know the\nbeauty and permanence of their architecture, and much of our musical\nknowledge is derived from them. They also made great progress in\nscientific agriculture and horticulture, in mining and the working of\nmetals, in tanning and dying leather. Damascus blades, morocco,\nenamelled steel, the manufacture and use of paper, the use of the\npendulum, the manufacture of cotton, public libraries, a national\npolice, rhyme in verse, and our arithmetic, all came to us from the\nArabs.\n\nAll this fruitful intellectual life must be traced directly back to the\ntheological impulse given by Mohammed to the Arab mind; for it can be\nderived from no other source.\n\nIt is not quite so easy to define the precise influence on human\nprogress given by the doctrines of the Reformation; for, before Luther,\nthese were in the air. But no one can reasonably doubt that the demand\nfor freedom of conscience and the right of private judgment in religion\nhas led to liberty of thought, speech, action, in all other directions.\nTo the war against papal and ecclesiastical authority in concerns of the\nsoul we owe, how much no one can say, of civil freedom, popular\nsovereignty, the emancipation of man, the progress of the human mind.\nThe theses of Luther were the source of the Declaration of Independence.\nAnd modern science, with the great names of Bacon and Newton, Descartes\nand Leibnitz, Goethe and Humboldt, is the legitimate child of Protestant\nTheology.\n\nIt is true that printing and maritime discoveries preceded Luther. But\nthese inventions came from the same ideas which took form in the\nLutheran Reformation. The discovery of printing was a result, no less\nthan a cause. It came because it was wanted; because men were wishing to\ncommunicate their thoughts more freely and widely than could be done by\nwriting. If it had been discovered five hundred years before, it would\nhave fallen dead, a sterile invention, leading to nothing. And so the\nsteam-engine and the railroad did not come before, because they were not\nwanted: as soon as they were wanted they came. That which lies at the\nroot of all these inventions is the wish of man to communicate easily\nand rapidly and widely with his brother-man; in other words, the sense\nof human brotherhood. Material civilization, in all its parts and in all\ntimes, grows out of a spiritual root; and only faith leads to sight,\nonly the things unseen and eternal create those which are seen and\ntemporal.\n\nThe two Theologies at the present time which stand opposed to each other\nhere are not Calvinism and Armenianism, not Trinitarianism and\nUnitarianism, not Naturalism and Supernaturalism. But they are the\nTheology of discouragement and fear on one side, that of courage and\nhope on the other. The one thinks men must be driven to God by terror:\nthe other seeks to attract them by love. The one has no faith in man,\nbelieves him wholly evil, believes sin to be the essential part of him.\nThe other believes reason a divine light in the soul, and encourages it\nto act freely; trusts in his conscience enlightened by truth, and\nappeals to it confidently; relies on his heart, and seeks to inspire it\nwith generous affections and disinterested love. That this Theology of\nfaith is to triumph over that of fear who can doubt? All the best\nthought, the deepest religion, the noblest aspiration of the age, flows\nin this direction. Whether our handful of Unitarian Churches is ever to\nbecome a great multitude or not, I do not know; but I am sure that the\nspirit which inspired the soul of Channing is to lead the future age,\nand make the churches which are to be. It is not now a question of Unity\nor Trinity, but something far deeper and much more important. While\nendeavoring to settle the logical terms of Christ's divinity and\nhumanity, we have been led up higher to the sight of the Divine Father\nand the Human Brotherhood. Like Saul, the son of Kish, we went out to\nseek our father's asses, and have found a kingdom.\n\nWe have recently been told about a Boston Theology. If there is any\nthing which deserves to be called a Boston Theology it is this doctrine\nof courage and hope. For it is shared by all the leading minds of all\nProtestant denominations in this city. Whatever eminent man comes here,\nno matter what he was when he came, finds himself, ere long, moving in\nthis direction. The shackles of tradition and formality fall from his\nlimbs, his eyes open to a new light; and he also becomes the happy\nherald of a new and better day.\n\nBut a better word still, if one is wanted by which to localize these\nideas, would be \"The New England Theology.\" For in every part of New\nEngland, from the beginning; in every one of the multiform sects, whose\nlittle spires and baby-house churches have spotted our barren and rocky\nhills, there have never failed men of this true Apostolic succession;\nmen believing in truth, and brave to utter it; believing that God loves\ntruth better than falsehood; that he desires no one to tell a lie for\nhis glory, or to speak words of wind in his behalf. With all our\nnarrowness, our bigotry, our controversial bitterness, our persecuting\nzeal,--of which, God knows, we have had enough in New England,--the\nheart of New England has been always free, manly, and rational. Yes: all\nthe way from Moses Stuart to William Ellery Channing, all along the road\nfrom the lecture-rooms on the hills of Andover to the tribune of\nTheodore Parker standing silent in the Music Hall, we have had this same\nbrave element of a manly Theology. This has been the handful of salt\nwhich has saved New England. Hence it is that from the days of the early\nPuritans, men and women, of Harry Vane, Mrs. Hutchinson, and Roger\nWilliams, who stood up for the rights of the human soul against priestly\ntyranny, down through the ministers of the Revolution who went with\ntheir people to the camp of Washington at Cambridge; down to the days of\nthe Beechers,--there has never failed a man in the New England pulpit to\nstand up for justice, freedom, and humanity. From our bare hill-tops New\nEngland men and women have looked up to the sky and seen it not always\nnor wholly black with superstitious clouds, but its infinite depths of\nblue interpenetrated evermore with the warm living light of a God of\nLove. And therefore has New England been the fountain of Progress, the\nfruitful parent of Reforms, \"the lovely mother of yet more lovely\nchildren.\"\n\nI have quoted several striking passages from the Apostle Paul. One\nexpresses his longing for greater excellence, and declares that he\nforgets every thing already attained, and is reaching out for better\nthings, for more truth and more love. Another passage calls on his\ndisciples to think for themselves, and be rational Christians, not\nchildren in understanding. A third asserts that he is the minister of\nthe spirit of the gospel, not its letter; a fourth that his religion is\nnot one of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind; a fifth says,\nStand fast in freedom, and be liberal Christians; and in other places he\nexhorts his brethren not to be narrow, nor bigoted; but to look at every\nthing beautiful, lovely, true, and good, no matter where they find it.\nBut a little while before he said these things Paul himself was one of\nthe most narrow, and intolerant of men, opposed to progress wholly. What\nmade this great change in his soul? It was that he had found a true\nTheology. He learned from Christ to trust simply in the divine love for\npardon and salvation. He learned that God was the God of Heathen and\nPagans as well as of Jews. He learned that no ritual, ceremony,\nsacraments nor forms, but only the sight of God as a Father and Friend,\ncan really save the soul from its diseases, and fill it with immortal\nlife. A true Theology was the secret of Paul's immense progress, and of\nhis wonderful power to awaken and convert others. There are many who\nsuppose his Theology obscure and severe. But when we penetrate the veil\nof Jewish language, we find it one of Freedom, of Reason, of Love, manly\nand tender, generous and intelligent. And this same Theology passing in\nits essence from Paul to Augustine, to Luther, to Wesley, has always\nbeen the motive power of human civilization and human development. It\nhas been the friend of free thought, liberty of conscience, and\nuniversal progress.\n\nI mean then by a true Theology what Paul meant when he said that God\n\"has not given to us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of\na sound mind.\" I mean what he said when he declared that God had made\nhim a minister of the New Testament, not of the letter but of the\nspirit; for the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life.\n\nI mean the Theology which places the substance above the form; the thing\nbefore the name; which looks at the fact, not at the label.\n\nLet us then, brethren, who call ourselves Unitarians, be glad and\ngrateful for the gospel of faith and hope which we enjoy. And let us\ngive to others what we have ourselves received. If it be true, as we\nhave tried to show, that human progress depends largely on a true\nTheology we cannot help mankind more than by diffusing widely that which\nGod has given us of his truth. Freely you have received, freely give.\nYou who have always lived in this community, surrounded by this mellow\nwarm light of peace and freedom, do not know, cannot tell, what those\nsuffer who have been taught from early childhood to fear God, and to\ndistrust his light in their soul. Do your part in spreading abroad the\nbeams of a better day. Give to the world that religion which is not a\nspirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RISE AND DECLINE\n\nOF THE\n\nROMISH CHURCH.\n\nBy ATHANASE COQUEREL, Fils.\n\n\nWe live in a time of great and manifold changes. There is one church\nthat for centuries has had her principal glory in asserting that she\nnever has changed,--that she has at all times been exactly the same; but\nnow she can hardly deny that either in accordance with her own will, or\nby the force of circumstances, very great changes have been wrought in\nher during the last few years. This, if it is true, must change also the\nnature, the system, the course of our controversy with her. The\ncontroversy between the two churches has not always, perhaps, been quite\nfair; and I should not like to be unfair to any adversary, whoever he\nmay be. I should not be at ease in my conscience if I thought I had been\nunfair to any thing, especially to any thing religious, of whatever kind\nthat religion may be; because in any religion, even the most imperfect,\nthere is some aspiration from this earth to the sky; at least, from\nhuman souls to what they hope or believe to be God. And especially I\ncould not pardon myself for being in any way unjust to that great church\nwhich has for centuries comforted and sustained a multitude of souls,\nand made them better and happier by her teachings. It is a Christian\nchurch; and though I think that Romish Christianity has been in a very\ngreat degree alloyed, and mixed with grave errors,--and that is exactly\nwhat I wish to show,--yet, even under that veil of human errors, I\nrecognize, I acknowledge, religion, Christianity; and therefore I bow\nbefore it.\n\nI think, however, the changes that have taken place have not altered the\nessential character of the Roman Church. I think the changes that have\nhappened are in conformity with the nature of that church; really were\nto be expected, and have nothing absolutely new in them. We might,\nperhaps, for a long time have seen them coming; and, if we had had\nforesight enough, we might have seen them from the very first times of\nthat church. Let us try to understand exactly what she is, what she\nmeans; let us try to see what there is under that name, \"Roman Catholic\nChurch.\" She calls herself _catholic_, which means _universal_, and at\nthe same time she has a local name. She is for the whole world; but at\nthe same time she belongs to one city, and she bears the name of that\ncity. Why? This is the question; and though it seems only a question of\nname, I think we shall find by other ways that it is a question of\nfacts. A second advance requires a change in our polemics with Roman\nauthority. A new science has been created in our time, which gives us\nbetter means of judging and studying other churches than our own; that\nscience is called the comparative history of religions. In England Max\nM\u00fcller, in France Burnouf, and in this country James Freeman Clarke,\nhave compared the history of several religions. According to that\ncomparative history, there are rules to be understood, to be\nacknowledged, in the development of religion. One of the rules which I\nthink we can deduce from any comparative history of religion may be a\nstartling one; and I will use a very homely comparison, to make myself\nperfectly understood. Have you ever seen over a shop door a sign-board,\nwhere the name of the old shop-keeper was painted; and, when his\nsuccessor came in, he had the same board covered with a new color, and\nhis own name painted over the old one? But in time the new paint wore\noff, so that the old name reappeared under the new, in such a way that\nit became perhaps difficult to distinguish clearly which letters or\nlines belonged to the old, and which to the new. If this image appears\nsomewhat too familiar, let me ask you if you remember what scholars call\na palimpsest. Sometimes in the Middle Ages it was difficult to find\nwell-prepared parchment on which to write, and there were a great many\nmonks who had nothing else to do--and it was the best use they could\nmake of their time--but write or copy the Bible or other religious\nbooks. When they found parchments where were copied the comedies and\ntragedies or other works of the heathen, they thought those were of very\nlittle use, and they could very easily have the writing on those\nparchments washed out, or covered over with white paint, in such a way\nthat what had been written there was no more visible. Then on those\nparchments they would write the Bible, or sermons, or any document they\nthought useful. But the same thing happened then that happened with the\nsign-board,--the old writing reappeared after a time; the white covering\nspread over the page disappeared. And thus it happens that scholars are\nsometimes pondering for a long time over a page from a sermon of Saint\nAugustine, or John Chrysostom, in which they find a verse from some\ncomedy of Terence or Aristophanes; then they have perhaps some trouble\nin making out which is comedy and which is sermon, in distinguishing\nexactly what of the writing is old and what is new; and they have not\nalways perfectly succeeded in that effort.\n\nNow what we see in the sign-board we see also in the religion of the\ndifferent churches, when a whole multitude, at one time, pass from one\nworship to another. Then, against their will, and perhaps without their\nknowing it, they never come into the pale of their new church\nempty-handed: they carry with them a number of ideas, and habits, and\nturns of thought, which they had found in their old worship. And thus,\nafter a time, when the fervor of the early days is over, you find in the\nnew religion, or new worship, a real palimpsest: the old one is\nreappearing under the new. That makes itself manifest in a good many\nways; sometimes in ways the most strange and unexpected.\n\nIf you ask me, now, remembering this rule, what means the name, \"Roman\nCatholic Church,\" I answer: Christianity absorbed into itself the Roman\nempire; the Roman empire became Christian in a very few years, with a\nmost rapid, with a most admirable sway; souls became conquered in large\nnumbers; they became Christian. But afterwards it appeared that they\nwere not so perfectly unheathenized as they were thought to be, or as\nthey thought themselves: many of their heathenish habits of life,\nthoughts, and customs remained even in their very worship. Thus, after\nChristianity had absorbed the Roman world, it appeared that the Roman\nworld had penetrated and impregnated the whole of Christianity; and this\nis the Roman Catholic Church. She is Christian, but she is full of the\nerrors and superstitions that belonged to the old Roman heathenish\nworld.\n\nTo understand what this means we must now try to comprehend what the old\nRoman genius was. Here I ask you not to confound it with the Greek\ngenius, which was in many respects highly superior, but which had, at\nthat time, passed away in a large measure, and been replaced everywhere\nby the Roman genius. What were the especial traits of character of the\nRomans? The first, and a very striking one to those who have travelled\nand studied in those countries, is a most vivacious love for tradition.\nIn Rome, at the present day, you find things that are done, that are\nsaid, that are believed, that are liked, because they were two thousand\nyears ago, without the people themselves having a very clear notion of\nit. Their custom--and it is born in their flesh, and in their blood--is\nto look backwards, and to see in the past the motives and the precedents\nfor their acts and for their belief. Of this I could quote to you a\nnumber of instances. I will choose but one. The first time I was in Rome\nI stopped, as every traveller does, on the _Piazza del Popolo_. In the\nmidst of that square is an obelisk, and on one side of the pedestal of\nthat obelisk is written: \"This monument was brought to Rome by the High\nPontiff, C\u00e6sar Augustus.\" I went round the monument, and on the other\nface of the same pedestal I read: \"This monument, brought to Rome by the\nHigh Pontiff, C\u00e6sar Augustus, was placed in this square by the High\nPontiff, Sextus V.\" And then I remembered that one of those High\nPontiffs was a Roman heathen, an Emperor; and that the other was a\nChristian, was a priest, was a pope; and I was astonished, at first\nsight, to find on two faces of the same stone the same title given to\nthose two representatives of very different religions. Afterwards, I\nobserved that this was no extraordinary case, but that in many other\nplaces in Rome instances of the same kind were to be found. I inquired a\nlittle more deeply, perhaps, than some other travellers, into the\nmeaning of those words. I asked myself why this pope, Sextus V., and\nthis Emperor Augustus, should each be called \"pontiff.\" What is the\nmeaning of \"pontiff\"? \"Pontiff\" means bridge-maker, bridge-builder. Why\nare they called in that way? Here is the explanation of that fact. In\nthe very first years of the existence of Rome, at a time of which we\nhave a very fabulous history, and but few existing monuments,--the\nlittle town of Rome, not built on seven hills as is generally supposed;\nthere are eleven of them now; then there were within the town less than\nseven even,--that little town had a great deal to fear from any enemy\nwhich should take one of the hills that were out of town, the Janiculum,\nbecause the Janiculum is higher than the others, and from that hill an\nenemy could very easily throw stones, fire, or any means of destruction,\ninto the town. The Janiculum was separated from the town by the Tiber.\nThen the first necessity for the defence of that little town of Rome was\nto have a bridge. They had built a wooden bridge over the Tiber, and a\ngreat point of interest to the town was that this bridge should be kept\nalways in good order, so that at any moment troops could pass over it.\nThen, with the special genius of the Romans, of which we have other\ninstances, they ordained, curiously enough, that the men who were a\ncorporation to take care of that bridge should be sacred; that their\nfunction, necessary to the defence of the town, should be considered\nholy; that they should be priests, and the highest of them was called\n\"the high bridge-maker.\" So it happened that there was in Rome a\ncorporation of bridge-makers, _pontifices_, of whom the head was the\nmost sacred of all Romans, because in those days his life, and the life\nof his companions, was deemed necessary to the safety of the town.\nThings changed; very soon Rome was large enough not to care about the\nJaniculum; very soon Rome conquered a part of Italy, then the whole of\nItaly, and finally almost the whole of the world. But when once\nsomething is done in Rome, it remains done; when once a thing is said,\nit remains said, and is repeated; and thus it happened that the\nprivilege of the bridge-makers' corporation, as beings sacred and holy,\nremained; and that privilege made everybody respect them; gave them a\nsort of moral power. Then kings wanted to be made High Bridge-makers;\nafter kings, consuls; later, dictators; and, later, emperors themselves\nmade themselves High Bridge-makers, which meant the most sacred persons\nin the town.\n\nWhen Constantine, who is generally called the first Christian\nemperor,--but who was very far from being a real Christian,--when\nConstantine became nominally a Christian, he did not leave off being the\nhigh bridge-maker of the heathen. He remained high priest of the heathen\nat the same time he was a Christian emperor; and he found means, as well\nas his son after him, to keep the two functions. He acted on some\noccasions as high pontiff of the heathen; on other occasions, he called\ncouncils, presided over them, and sent them away when he had had enough\nof their presence; declared to the bishops that he was in some sense one\nof them, and acted to all intents and purposes as popes have acted after\nhim. Thus that title remained the type of whatever was most sacred in\nRome; and the bishop of Rome, when an opportunity came,--when the title\nhad been lost in Rome by emperors,--took it up again. And thus we see on\nthe same stone, at the present time in Rome, the name of a high\nbridge-maker who is a heathen emperor, and the name of a high\nbridge-maker who is a pope, who is the head of the Christian Catholic\nChurch. Thus you see an old superstition, an old local superstition,\nestablished with a political meaning, has survived itself, has survived\ncenturies, has survived the downfall of heathenism, and is at the\npresent time flourishing. You all know that the present pope is called\n_Pontifex Maximus_; it is his title; and everywhere you see, even on the\npieces of money, that Pio Nono is _Pontifex Maximus_,--the great\nbridge-maker, which means the highest of all priests, of all sacred\nbeings. Thus has tradition, on that special spot, and in connection with\nthe history and with the antiquities of that spot, established an\nauthority unequalled anywhere else.\n\nThough the Roman Catholic Church is special to that place, and inherits\nthe local habits and traditions, it pretends also to universality. This\nis, again, perfectly Roman. The heathen Romans had thought for centuries\nthat the world was made to be conquered by them; that unity was\nrepresented by Rome; that Rome was all in all; and at the present time\nthe Pope, on Thursday of every Easter week, gives his solemn blessing,\nas you know, to the town first, and the world afterwards,--_urbi et\norbi_. All countries, both hemispheres, all nations, all languages, are\nlost in that great unity. One town and one world, of which that town is\nthe capital,--that was the wish, the hope of the heathenish Romans for\ncenturies; and that has been the aim, the assumption of papal Rome for\ncenturies also. When the present Pope said, on a celebrated day, after\nenumerating the great acts of his pontificate, that he had created more\nbishoprics than any other pope, he was right. He has created, on his own\nauthority, bishoprics in Holland, in England, and in other countries;\ncut out bishoprics on the map of those countries. And he did that\nbecause, as pope, he is the spiritual sovereign of the world; because\nEngland and Holland belong to him; because Rome is the capital of the\nworld; and he cuts off a part of any country, in America as well as in\nEurope, in order to make of it the see or dominion of a bishop. The old\nRoman idea was that nobody knew how to govern except Romans. They\nassumed--and often, if an unscrupulous government was the best of all,\nif a tyrannical government was the best of all, they were right--to\ngovern better, more wisely, and with more acute politics, than any other\nnation. They said, \"Other sciences, other arts, may be the share of\nother nations; but our share in the great things of this world is\n_government_.\" I hardly dare to speak Latin in an English country,\nbecause I cannot pronounce Latin as you do; but though I pronounce it as\na Frenchman, which is, perhaps, a shade less bad than to pronounce it as\nyou do in England and America, you may guess what I mean when I recall\nto the memory of some of you the famous lines of Virgil, where he says\nwhat must be, in this world, the function of the Romans:--\n\n    \"Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento;\n    H\u00e6 tibi erunt artes.\"\n\nThat is to say, \"You Romans! remember that you are made to govern the\nnations; that must be your office; all the arts come after this; this is\nthe special Roman art.\" I declare to you that at this present moment\nthe clergy, the cardinals, the bishops, the prelates, the court of Rome,\nthink, and have never ceased to think, that they are the people to\ngovern better than any other political body; and that the government of\nthe world has been providentially reserved to that town; first, in a\ntemporal way, for the heathen; and, secondly, in a spiritual way, for\nthe Christians, for the Catholic countries of the world. And as they\nbelieve spiritual things are a great deal more important than temporal\nthings, they think their government is a great deal more important, and\ngreatly superior to any government of any kind.\n\nLet us now turn back a little again, and try more fully to understand\nwhat the old Roman genius was in its way of government. They governed by\nlaws. You all have heard about Roman law, about Roman jurisprudence. It\nhas been said for centuries that they were men who, better than any\nother, understood the art of making laws,--very precise, full of\nforesight, forgetting nothing, or few things, and giving in the most\nexact terms the decisions to be enforced in all possible cases, at least\nin all the cases with which they had occasion to deal. It is said also,\nit has always been said, that their laws were hard; but they accepted\nthem, though hard: \"_dura lex, sed lex_.\" And certainly there was\nsomething noble and good in this respect for law, whatever the law was:\nthere was something just, really in the interest of nations, in this\nlove of law. But at that time this love of law was accompanied by the\nfact that the law was exceedingly hard in a great number of cases. Yet\nthat hardness was in conformity with the general temperament of the\nnation at that time: the Romans were hard.\n\nI have no time to stop to show you how different they were from the\nGreeks; but you remember that when the Greeks assembled in one of their\ngreat annual festivals, they heard music, they listened to poetry, they\nlistened to the works of the historian; or they saw men run races, or\nengage in one of those contests that were not cruel, that were only\ndisplays of strength, agility, or training. That was the pleasure of the\nGreeks in their annual festival. What did the Romans do? You all know.\nThey had immense amphitheatres where they assembled to see men kill one\nanother. Their pleasure was to see people die, to see people suffer, to\nsee people maimed, and weltering in their blood: that was their favorite\namusement. And ambitious men in that day secured votes by bringing\nlions, hyenas, and tigers, in large numbers, to Rome, and by giving the\npeople the diversion of seeing those animals killing men, devouring\nliving men, women, and children, living Christians, often. That was the\npunishment in fashion at that time: Christian men, women, and children\nwere killed, were devoured, were mangled before the eyes of the people,\nand for their pleasure. In their hardness they had a taste for the\nformal, precise execution of their law, whatever it might be.\nChristianity came and swept away their abominable pleasures,--this\ncruelty, which was contrary to every human feeling; but the habit of a\nsort of hardness, in the infliction of the penalties of law, remained in\nRome more than it did in any other place. And this was allied to another\nfeeling of a different nature, but which very well connected itself with\nit. I mean the Roman love for the literal in every thing. They did not\nlike to understand any thing as metaphorical, as poetry: they liked to\ntake every thing literally; and it was in consequence of this\ncharacteristic of the Roman mind that they were able to enforce their\nlaw. Even if the result of what the law demanded was absurd, they\nmaintained, for the honor of the law, that it must be literally\nunderstood, and literally executed; and they permitted none of those\ndifferent ways of alleviating the hardships of the law that have been in\nother places not only allowed, but ordered, by those in command. This is\nof extreme importance. Perhaps at first sight it does not strike you so,\nbut it is. Remember from what country Christianity came. Christianity\ncame from the East, came from Asia, came from the Jews. The Apostles,\nthe first propagators of Christianity, were Oriental men, were Jews. I\nhave seen part of the Levant, I have seen those very countries, and I\ncan speak of it as a fact known for centuries, that the people of the\nOrient never speak otherwise than by images. They do not like the\nshortest way from one point to another; they make the way long. They use\nflowers, and rays of light, and moonshine, or any thing else that gives\nan image and color to their speech. They bring these things in\ncontinually, whatever may be the subject they speak of.\n\nPerhaps I may give here an illustration that will make you understand\nme. I was in a house made of branches of trees, where lived a sheik. He\ntold me that every thing in that house, his own person, his own family,\nwere mine; and he said this with the greatest protestations. This is\nexactly the same as if you should say to a foreigner, coming into your\nhouse, \"You are welcome.\" Nothing more. If, on going away, I had taken\nany thing from that house, the man would immediately have shot me;\nthough he had given me every thing, even to his own person and his own\nfamily; because he would have had this idea: \"This man is a thief; I\nhave a thief in my house.\" If I had said, \"But you gave me every thing\nin the house,\" he would have answered me, \"You come from a country where\npeople have no politeness. I gave you these things: that means\n_welcome_, and nothing more.\" Thus a man of the Orient never says any\nthing in the simple short way that Western nations do: they always want\nsome poetry, some rhetoric, some image about it. And you must remember\nthat many of the most admirable teachings of the Bible are in images,\nare in poetry, and are extremely beautiful and eloquent by their poetry.\nWe are accustomed to this, so that we know that it is poetry; and we\nunderstand it. But the Romans, accustomed to their principle, that the\nlaw may be hard, but that law is law, and must be understood literally,\nand executed literally, understood every thing literally, and in that\nway they spoiled many of the great Christian truths. I will not here\nquote many instances, though it would be exceedingly easy to bring them\nin large numbers before you. I will take the most striking and best\nknown of all. When our Lord, a few hours before being separated from his\ndisciples, to die on the cross, gave them of the bread that was on the\ntable, and said, \"Eat, this is my body,\" it was absolutely impossible\nfor Eastern people to misunderstand him; it was impossible for them not\nto understand that he meant, \"This represents my body.\" The idea that\nwhat he held in the hands of his own body was his own body again; that\nhe gave them his own body to eat, and that he ate some of it himself\nwith them,--that idea could not for a moment have entered the head of\none of those who were there. And if a multitude had been there, instead\nof the twelve Apostles, it would have been exactly the same. Nobody\nwould have understood, when the Lord said, \"I am the way,\" or when he\nsaid, \"I am the door,\" that he was really, in fact, a path or a gate;\neverybody knew that he meant, \"I am the leader; you must come with me; I\nshow you the way.\" Everybody in the Orient understood that. But here\ncomes the Roman genius, taking every thing literally; and they repeat,\n\"He said, 'This is my body,' and this _is_ his body.\" They repeat: \"You\nProtestants do not accept the truth coming from the lips of your Master.\nHe says, 'This is my body,' but you Protestants say, 'No, it is not his\nbody, it represents his body.'\" Thus it seems we are convicted of crime;\nit seems we will not accept the teachings of our Lord; yet we are\nperfectly true to his own meaning, to his real meaning, that could not\nbe misunderstood in the East, but that was misunderstood when it was\ncarried to Rome, a country where people gloried in taking every thing in\na literal sense. So they did with many other most beautiful and delicate\nthings in the Bible. The Roman genius--I cannot help saying it--had\nsomething clumsy in it. They were like giants, having very strong arms,\nand enormous hands, to take every thing, and to dominate over every\nthing. But any thing very delicate, very poetic, like flowers from the\nEast, they could not touch without the flowers being broken and faded,\nlosing their charm and their color. That was their way of treating many\nof the most beautiful things of the Bible, which they did not\nunderstand; which they made absurd or repulsive, by taking in a literal\nsense what was said, and ought to be taken, in a spiritual sense. They\nacted exactly as we should, if we received an Oriental letter and\nunderstood as literal every thing contained in it.\n\nI will give another instance to make this clear. I remember having seen\ntwo letters, written one by a French General, and another by\nAbd-el-Kader, the chief of the enemies of the French in Algeria. These\nletters were intended to convey identically the same thing; that is to\nsay, that some prisoners on one side were to be exchanged for the same\nnumber of prisoners on the other side. It had been decided that the\nFrench General and the Arab chief should say the same thing. I have seen\nboth. The French General writes two lines; very clear, distinct, and\npolite, with nothing but the exact meaning he wanted to convey. But\nAbd-el-Kader, meaning to write the same thing, writes a whole page,\nabout flowers, and jewels, and roses, and moonshine, and every thing of\nthe kind. His intention was to say exactly the same thing, to convey\nidentically the same meaning; but these things, translated from one\nlanguage to another, pass, as a celebrated German scholar says, \"from\nthe Shemitic to the Japhetic; from the poetic language of the sons of\nShem, to the precise language of the sons of Japhet.\" This has been the\nfault of the Roman Catholic Church in many dogmas, in many points of\nvery high importance: the sons of Japhet could not understand what the\nsons of Shem meant. They thought they understood it, when they were\nentirely in error, and gave to it a meaning altogether different from\nwhat was intended.\n\nI must add, that what helped them along in this belief of things, taken\nin a literal sense, was Roman superstition. In that town, and in Italy,\nhave always prevailed the strangest superstitions. The most celebrated\nRomans, men whose wisdom and whose glory have filled the world, if they\nmet, when they went out of their house in the morning, a hare in the\nway, re-entered their house on the instant, and renounced any thing they\nhad to do, because meeting a hare was ominous of misfortune, and any\nthing they should undertake that day would result in their confusion or\nmisfortune. When they put their foot in the wrong way, the left before\nthe right, or the right before the left, on the stone at the entrance of\na house, they stopped there and returned to their house, because every\nthing they should do in that house would prove unfortunate, since they\nhad made a mistake in putting the wrong foot foremost when they entered\nthe house.\n\nSo there were a multitude of superstitions. You know when they were to\ndecide the greatest questions of peace or war, they consulted their\nsacred chickens. They gave them grains of wheat, and if the chickens ate\nit, or if they refused to eat it, or if they ate it too fast, or if the\nchickens let fall a grain of wheat from their mouths,--these signs meant\nthat war would be successful, or that it would not be, and they decided\naccording to these whether there should be a war or not. And those great\nmagistrates, who were sometimes men of the greatest eminence, like\nCicero, were augurs. You know what Cicero says, \"Two of us cannot meet\nwithout laughing;\" because they knew that their auguries were utterly\nworthless, but the multitude thought they were true. So the Romans were\nsuperstitious to the highest degree, and they have never ceased to be\nso. There is superstition in the marrow of their bones. Many Romans are\nready to believe any thing to-day, at the present moment. I shall allude\nto a single fact. They all believe devoutly in the evil eye; that there\nare people who, if they look at you, will bring upon you some horrible\nmisfortune, disease, or death. They believe this so fully, that they\nhave a gesture, representing with their fingers a pair of horns; and,\nwhen they meet any one who is supposed to have the evil eye, they\nendeavor, in a secret way, to make that sign, to prevent misfortune from\ncoming upon them. It is believed, in Rome, that the present pope, who is\nto them God on earth, who is to them the successor and vicar of Jesus\nChrist, that he, as a man, has the evil eye. And when he passes through\nthe streets of Rome, a great many women, devoutly kneeling before him,\nwith their heads almost in the dust, craving to receive his blessing, as\nhe passes in his carriage, will, under their aprons, make this sign, to\npreserve themselves from the effects of the evil eye. This is no\ndisparagement to his person; they think that the poor man cannot help\nit; that there is no ill will in it; that it is fate; he has the evil\neye.\n\nI could cite many other instances of this superstition; perhaps it will\nbe enough to refer to one more, and one that disgusted me completely. It\nis the worship with which they surround the _Santo Bambino_. There is on\nthe Capitoline Hill a church that was formerly a heathen temple, and\nwhich has kept an old name, \"_Ara C[oe]li_,\" or \"altar of Heaven.\" In\nthat church, the Franciscan monks keep a very ugly doll. This doll is\nsaid to have been sculptured out of one of the olive-trees on the Mount\nof Olives, and then Saint Luke is supposed to have painted it over.\nSaint Luke must have been the painter of the poorest daubs that ever\nwere in the world, and the angels who took it to him must have been very\nfar from being connoisseurs of painting. This doll is covered with\ndiamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and other precious stones, of greatest\nprice. It is kept in a box on the altar, and, when you ask to see it,\nthe monks pray before the door, they light tapers, they produce the box,\nand then the box is opened, and you see the hideous little wooden image.\nNow, this _Santo Bambino_ is supposed to have healing properties. He\nheals people, when they are rich enough to pay a good salary to him; he\nis not a physician who heals for nothing. He has a magnificent carriage\nof his own, and servants with his own livery; and, when any rich man\nwants to be cured by him, the _Santo Bambino_ goes in his own carriage\nto the man's house, carried on the knees of Franciscan monks, and cures\nthe patient,--if he can. Such is the belief of the country. But I could\nnot see any very great difference between that doll and the idols that\nthe old Romans had, and used in the same way. The idea is this: they\nsuppose that the _Santo Bambino_ represents Christ as a little child.\n\nNot only were the old Romans superstitious, but we know, by historical\ntestimony coming from the heathen themselves, that at the time when\nChristianity appeared there was an increase of superstition; there was a\ngeneral feeling of a want of something definite, something like a sort\nof atonement; and at that time all sorts of ceremonies, all sorts of\nbloody sacrifices, were introduced from Syria, from Libya, from the most\nremote countries, and the Romans tried to find for their consciences\nsome satisfaction in those rites. For instance, you all know they had a\ncustom of having their sins expiated by means of what they called\n_taurobolium_. A man had a grave dug in the ground, and then over that\ngrave was put a marble slab, with a great many holes in it, like a\nsieve. In that grave the man stretched himself at full length, and over\nthe marble slab a bull was killed, in such a way that the blood fell\nthrough the holes into the grave. When the bull was taken away, and the\nmarble slab was lifted, the man rose out of that grave perfectly covered\nwith the blood of the bull, entirely bathed in that blood. Then he was\nsupposed to be a new man, supposed to be washed of all his sins. He\nbelieved that from that moment the anger of the gods had passed to the\nbull, and that the blood of the bull had been shed instead of his own.\nWe find in Ovid, one of the poets of the time, the prayer of a man for\nwhom was about to be offered up the sacrifice of the black hen. He asks\nthe gods to take the heart of the hen instead of his own, the fibres of\nthe hen's body instead of the fibres of his own body. The poor black hen\nwas sacrificed in the most cruel way they could find; she must suffer as\nlong as possible, because then the anger of some god who was supposed to\npursue the man found full satisfaction. The ferocity of the god had\nample satisfaction in the torture of the poor black hen, and the sins of\nthe man were expiated. Then there was superstition upon superstition,\nbecause, when the mangled remains of the unfortunate hen were thrown\ninto the street, if any person unconsciously put his foot on that body,\nthen he became the inheritor of the crimes of the first man, and of the\nanger of the gods. They had a special name for those bloody remains of\nthe sacrificed fowl: they called them _purgamentum_, because they\nthought that such a sacrifice purged a man of his sins. As nobody dared\nlift or touch the body of the victim, they put a fence around it; and,\nas long as there remained on the ground in the streets of Rome a vestige\nof the poor bird, nobody would tread on that place; and the fence was\nput there to prevent this. These were the superstitions of that time;\nand Plutarch wrote a treatise to which he gives the title\n[Greek: Deisidaimonia], which is translated very often by the word\n\"superstition;\" but it means more than that, it means \"terror of the\ngods.\" It means that feeling which was more and more prevailing in the\nRoman world, that the gods were to be feared; that there was anger in\nheaven; that the earth could not defend itself against the bad will of a\nsupernatural power. We can very well understand that when Christianity\nwas preached to those people they were happy to take that religion of\nhope, that religion of regeneration and sanctification. It was to them a\nmarvellous deliverance to be out of that old doctrine and in the new\none. But they carried with them many habits of thought, many things\nwhich were inherent in the ancient religion. Among those things was the\nhabit of multiplying the divine being. They had been for a long series\nof centuries polytheists, believing in many gods. With their\nsuperstitious fears, they were always afraid there were not gods enough.\nThat was saying a good deal, for they had more than 30,000 of them at\nthe time of Christ. It was recognized that nobody could even know them\nall by name.\n\nAgain you will excuse me if I use here a very familiar illustration to\nmake the leading thought of polytheism understood.\n\nYou know that in fairy tales the fairies are always called in to the\nfestival at the baptism of the infant child. The intention is to invite\nthem all, but there is always one forgotten; and that one curses the\nchild in some way or other; and then all the gifts of all the good\nfairies cannot prevent the child from suffering, at least for a time,\nfrom the bad will of the one that has been forgotten. This involves the\nessential idea of polytheists. They had always the thought that all the\ngood gods whom they worshipped could not prevent any malevolent one who\nhad been neglected from hurting them; and they were always in search of\nthat one. They were always making altars \"to the unknown god or gods,\"\nto be certain in that way to include them all. They were constantly\nasking what gods were worshipped in such a country, in such a place; and\nif it was a god that was not known among them, straightway they prepared\na place for his worship. They said, \"He has no existence, very likely;\nbut if he has, if he lives, then we must sacrifice to him, to prevent\nhis spoiling the happiness that the other good gods wish to give us.\" So\nthere was an incessant adding to the immense number of gods. At the time\nof Christ, they had so many of them that, from the time a grain of corn\nwas put into the ground to the time the harvest commenced, they had nine\ndifferent deities who in succession took charge of the corn that had\nbeen put into the ground, and thus it passed from one god to another.\nNine of them were necessary while the grain was in the ground. Thus,\nwhen the heathen became Christians, they had been in the constant habit\nof adding gods to their heaven, of adding good men to their gods, and\nalso men not good, but whom they feared,--for all the emperors were made\ngods the moment they died, so that one of them, who was rather a wit,\nwhen he was dying said, \"I feel that I am becoming a god.\" The heathen\nhad become so habituated to this that, when they became Christians, they\ncontinued very naturally to multiply the number of the objects of\nworship. They soon ceased to make the slightest difference between\nChrist and the Father. In good time they unconsciously put Mary, the\nmother of Christ, above Christ; now, without ever having this intention,\nthey put, in fact, Mary above the Father. And so on, adding always a new\ngod to a new worship, and always making the new worship as binding and\nas efficacious as possible, to satisfy that polytheistic craving. They\ndid not understand their error in keeping between the infinite God and\nthemselves an immense number of minor deities. This craving was\nunwholesome, but very sincere. That unconscious wish to multiply gods\nand make saints has continued to this day; and no pope has canonized so\nmany saints as the present one, who is always trying to show that he\ndoes more in this way than any of his predecessors.\n\nThis will suffice to give you an idea of what the old spirit of Rome\nwas, the whole tendency of the Roman mind, and what was brought by them\ninto the church. I must now ask you to go in imagination with me to the\ntomb of one of those old Romans, who were not burned, according to the\ncustom of that period, say the Scipios. Suppose one of the Scipios taken\nout of his tomb; and bring him into a Roman Catholic Church: do you\nthink he will be very much astonished? He will be astonished at one\nthing,--by the crucifix, the image of the crucified Son of God. That was\ncompletely contrary to the Roman ideal and their habit of thought. But\nall the other things he will see will not astonish him at all. He had\nseen them all his life in his own time. You believe, perhaps, that the\nshape of a Roman Catholic Church at Rome will astonish a pagan? Not at\nall. Cato had given the Romans the pleasure of enjoying, for the first\ntime, a portico with three ranges of columns, the middle aisle being\nbroader than the others; and at the end was what we call an apse, but\nthe ancients a conch. The end was rounded off, and thrown into the form\nof a semi-circle, and the tribunal for the pr\u00e6tor or judge was placed in\nthat half-circle at the end. This portico was called a _stoa basilica_,\nand the first Roman Christian churches were built on that plan.\nAfterwards, the idea came of making the church in the shape of a cross;\nand then a smaller basilica was placed across the other, forming the\ntransept of the church. But those long ranges of columns remained, with\nthe same wide space in the middle, and narrower aisles on either side.\nThe basilica was the form of public buildings most in fashion in Rome at\nthat time. There the gothic style was never popular. Even now, of four\nor five hundred churches in Rome, only one, the Minerva, is gothic. When\nChristian architecture was born, Christian architecture accepted the\nheathen plan.\n\nIn the new church, in that _basilica_, what do we find? We find holy\nwater at the door. That was exactly what you found in the pagan temple,\nonly it was called lustral water. In the temple, my Scipio, who goes\nwith me, recognizes all his old habits of thought, all the old emblems\nof his religious devotion. He sees a number of statues, or images; but\nhe has seen those all his life. There is not only a central shrine, but\nthere are small chapels. The saints have a golden circle round their\nheads: Christians call it the _aura_, the ancients called it the\n_nimbus_; but it was exactly the same thing. They had it around the\nheads of their deities in painting and sculpture, and so on. There are\ncensers and there are tapers burning there; and there are all the\nornaments a pagan was accustomed to see in his temple. All those things\nhad been kept, had been re-established, and the pagans had brought them\nwith them into the Catholic churches. When I went for the first time to\nNaples, the man who showed me the museum there showed me feet, legs, and\narms, hands, eyes, and ears, in stone. He said, \"These are _ex voto_.\"\nPeople who were ill gave to some of the gods, the ones they chose, these\nthings as marks of gratitude for having been cured. The cicerone told\nme, \"You see, sir, it is exactly the same thing we have in our\nchurches.\" And so it is. In all the churches in Naples and Rome, and in\nthe Roman Catholic churches all over Spain and France, you see, in wax,\nin gold, in silver, and in stone, such legs and arms, eyes and ears. It\nis exactly the same thing. The heathen man said to his god, \"I will pay\nyou by this mark of honor and gratitude, by this mark of your power and\nyour glory, if you cure me.\" The Roman Catholic says exactly the same\nthing to a saint, to the Virgin, sometimes to Jesus, and very rarely to\nGod.\n\nI cannot mention here all the other details, like funeral services at\nthe end of the year, like funeral chapels, like many other institutions\nthat exist in the Roman Catholic Church, that are practised every day in\nit, and that are exactly the same, so far as religious ideas go, as were\npractised in the pagan churches. But I must add something of more\nconsequence than that, about the worship of human beings, and especially\nof the worship of the Virgin Mary. It was nothing new to the Pagans to\nworship a woman, and especially to worship a virgin. That was one of the\nideas the most familiar to their devotion. In Rome they had the temple\nof Hestia or Vesta, who was supposed to be a virgin; and she had around\nher nuns who were pledged to live in celibacy, and punished by death if\nthey did not remain true to their vow. In Greece it was the same thing\nwith Pallas. Perhaps you all know that in Athens, the largest, most\nperfect, and most beautiful of the Greek temples--immensely superior to\nany edifice I ever saw in any country--is called the Parthenon, which\nmeans the Virgin Temple. That temple is the temple of Pallas,--Athene,\nor Minerva,--who was the principal deity of Athens. Thus that idea was\nperfectly familiar to them, and they only kept it, and brought it with\nthem into Christianity.\n\nI have spoken of monks. You must not believe that the monks are by any\nmeans a Roman Catholic invention. In the East there have been monks in\nall times and in all religions. It seems to have been a special habit or\ntaste of the people of the East to give some men no other business, no\nother work to do, but to live in solitude, and pray for them; and some\nmen have always, in those very hot countries, where it is exceedingly\ntiresome to work, liked to live in perpetual prayer better than any\nother more fatiguing labor. We find the monk in all times and countries\nin the East, then in the West; and he has been imported from paganism\ninto Christianity, like all the rest. I do not believe there is a\nreligion more completely contrary to the monastic feeling than the\nreligion of Christ. I do not think there was ever a type more radically\ncontrary to the type of the monk, than the figure of Christ as we find\nit in the Bible. However, that old monkish spirit of the Orient was\nalways known to the Romans from the beginning; for they had priests and\nmonks from the time their city began. That spirit has, like other\nthings, been smuggled into the Church, though it was contrary to the\nspirit of Christianity.\n\nI must recall one last rite of great importance. Both the old Romans and\nthe old Jews had, as a principal part of their worship, the rite of\nsacrifice. The origin of it was simply this: that men in the first place\npossessed nothing but flocks, and they gave to God one head of their\nflock, one sheep, or one bull, as being the only riches they had to\ngive. Before they had houses, before they had garments, before they had\nany other thing,--money they were very far from having,--men had to eat,\nand they had flocks because they wanted to have meat to eat; and thus\nthey gave to God the only necessity of life to them, the only thing they\nunderstood the importance of. And they gave him the whole animal, not\nreserving to themselves any part of it, in some cases; in other cases, a\npart of it only, making a meal of the rest for themselves. To give a\npart to God was one essential element of their worship, the rite of\nsacrifice; and we find that the rite grew out of that, and nothing else.\nIt was a habit deeply rooted in the Roman mind, and at the same time\nalready familiar to the Jews; and when those Christians who had been\nJews spoke of Christ to the Romans, they could not prevent that Roman or\nJewish habit from taking double force, and double space in religion.\nWhat happened? It happened that the old Romans and old Jews wanted a\nsacrifice; wanted to give something to God; wanted a victim; and then\ncame this strange fact, very easy to understand however, of which we\nfind traces in the first days of Christianity,--that there was no better\nvictim to offer to God than Christ. When they had identified completely\nChrist with the Father, then there was no greater victim to offer to\nGod than God himself. Therefore, they had a sacrifice that is called\n\"the mass.\" You know the official name is \"sacrifice of the mass.\" It\nconsists in this. The priest takes the host, which is merely bread,--it\nis nothing but a little flour and water, made into bread,--he pronounces\nthe consecrating words; then, after he pronounces them, there is no\nbread, there is no flour; instead of the bread, instead of the flour,\nthere is Jesus Christ. According to the Council of Trent, that _is_\nJesus Christ, his body, his blood, his soul, and his divinity; it is\nJesus Christ; is perfect God. And this has been, by an old Roman\nCatholic writer, very clearly expressed in these three words: \"The\npriest, what is he? what does he do? _Creatus Creatorem creat._\" He is a\ncreature who creates the Creator. After that comes the second great part\nof the sacrifice of the mass. There is God, and the priest sacrifices\nGod to God. And how? _Sacrificat manducando._ That is to say, according\nto the formal explanation, he sacrifices God by eating God. This is the\nsacrifice of the mass. If the Roman mind had not been accustomed, as I\nhave shown you, to superstition, to all literalism, to the love of the\nlaw and the letter, even when the law or the letter was absurd, they\nwould not easily have accepted all this; but with their turn of mind,\nwith their way of taking things, that was exactly what they wished for,\nand that was what they adopted. Not at once: it was very long in\nelaborating itself. It was so completely, I cannot say otherwise, so\ncompletely absurd, that it required a great deal of time to make it so\nprecise; but they attained to that at last, and they could not but do\nso. See, then, what a man the priest is. He has before him bread, and he\nmakes God; he afterwards sacrifices God; he is almost a God himself. At\nthe moment when he makes God, he seems to be superior to God; at the\nmoment when he sacrifices God, by eating him, he seems superior to God.\nThence comes the immense power of the priesthood, of priestcraft. And as\nif this were not enough, in the mass, as you know, the priest has not\nonly the host, but he has the wine, the cup. The other members of the\nchurch have not the cup, because they must not be equal to the priest\neven in the communion; even in the act of uniting themselves with God.\nLaymen cannot arrive at the height of glory to which the priest arrives;\nthey must eat the host when it is given to them, but they cannot touch\nthe cup; that is reserved to the priest, a sort of heavenly, or divine,\nor godlike character. Even as the Romans had respected their old\nbridge-makers, their old _pontifices_, their old priests, whom they\nconsidered the bulwarks of their town, they respected afterwards the\npriests of the Roman Catholic Church. So the mass was established, with\nall its consequences.\n\nThis is not all. I must explain exactly how a part of the heathenish\nreligion answered, in the time of Jesus, the wants of the heathen better\nthan the more natural religion of the Christians. At the time of Christ,\nmany Romans did not believe in thirty thousand gods and in all the\nabsurd and indecent history of those thirty thousand deities, but they\nhad a form of worship that had become purer and purer. They had what\nthey called \"Mysteries.\" In Greece, and in Rome also, there were\n\"Mysteries.\" These were ceremonies in which great philosophic and\nreligious lessons were given. There exists a very touching letter from\nPlutarch to his wife, written at the time he lost his only daughter, and\nwhen they were in the deepest affliction and desolation. He writes to\nhis wife, who was separated from him at that time, a very kind and\nloving letter, trying to give her comfort and hope. He says to her,\n\"Remember the beautiful things we have seen together in the Mysteries of\nBacchus.\" You must not believe, as many would at first believe, that the\nMysteries of Bacchus were nothing but drunkenness and disorder: they\nwere something else. They were like the Mysteries of Ceres, the Goddess\nof Corn, and like the representations, in other cases, of the\nimmortality of the soul. They were a sort of tragedy in which, less by\nword than by singing, and by acting especially, was shown to men that,\nwhen the body is interred in the ground, the soul lives, and the soul\nshall rise to fulness of life. A grain of wheat hidden in the ground\nremained hidden there for weeks before coming to life. That was the\nemblem of the new life of immortality. Now, this teaching, good in\nitself, true in itself, but given in dramatic images, was at that time\nthe very best, soundest, most human, and most natural part of\nheathenism. And then it happened that Mysteries were acted, not only in\nthe heathen churches, but in Christian churches; that the history of\nChrist, that the death of Christ, that the resurrection of Christ, took\nthe place of the resurrection of Proserpine, the daughter of Ceres, who\nrepresented wheat and corn; and then Christianity became a sort of\nsubject of sacred myths, sacred plays, that were very devoutly acted,\nand that kept their title of \"Mysteries.\" As soon as we see something of\nthe dark ages, and what the practice of worship was, we see this same\nthing. It is going on in all countries in some measure. You may see it\nin the Roman Catholic churches during Easter week. You may see then\nthat, when Christ dies, all the lights are put out, save one very small\nlight, because that represents the moment when the sky was covered with\ndarkness at his death. And you hear in a choir some persons sing the\nwords of the people who screamed \"Crucify him!\" and others repeating the\nwords of Caiaphas and the words of Christ. This \"Mystery,\" this serious,\ndevout play, is acted in all Roman Catholic churches. When Christ is\ndead, the host is taken away from the altar, and it is carried into the\ntomb, carried into some lower chapel, from which it comes back to the\ngreat altar on Easter morning, on the day of the resurrection. That\nsolemn play is going on in all Roman Catholic countries at the present\ntime, and that is a \"Mystery.\" Such is also the \"Mystery\" that was\nplayed in Germany, at Oberammergau (Bavaria), during the last year, and\nis played there every ten years. It is a devout, religious, serious,\ndramatic representation of our Lord's suffering, death, and\nresurrection. The mass in itself was in the beginning a Mystery; it is\noften called so; it is often called in old Roman Catholic books and\noften in modern ones the \"Mystery of the Mass.\" It was a representation\nof the death and sacrifice of Jesus; but the Roman Catholic spirit\ncoming in declared that this Mystery was not, like others, a mere\nrepresentation, a sacred play, but a reality; and according to the\ndoctrine proclaimed by the Council of Trent, three hundred years ago,\nthe sacrifice of the mass is much more than a representation of Christ's\ndeath, of Christ's sacrifice, for he is sacrificed anew, he suffers\ndeath really anew. And it has been declared, because some Protestant\nopponents were astonished at it, that every time any priest says\nmass,--and every priest must say mass at least once every day,--every\ntime a priest says mass, Christ suffers again, and dies again,\nsacrificed by the priest for the redemption of human kind. This is the\ndoctrine of the mass, and this gives it a very tragic, grand, and solemn\neffect in the eyes of those who believe in it. Yet this again is nothing\nbut Roman literalism, the Roman way of taking every thing literally.\n\nIs all this real Christianity? At all events I have said enough, I hope,\nto give you an idea of the way in which the religion of Jesus of\nNazareth, as he was called, preached by him on the hills of Galilee,--a\nreligion that was quite spirit, and quite truth; a religion that had at\nthat time no bleeding, no consecrated man, but that was alive by the\nSpirit of God in the conscience and in the hearts of men,--how that\nreligion, purely spiritual as it was, became all the pomp, all the\nexterior complications, all the dramatic intricacies of the Church of\nRome.\n\nAnd here I stop to ask again, Can all this suit the urgent necessities\nof our times? Is that the truth after which our souls hunger and thirst?\n\nNow I must, before I end, say a few words to you about the late changes.\nDo those changes make matters better or worse? Let us pass over ages and\ncenturies, and come to the present day, because I say we must make some\nchange in our way of resisting the Church of Rome. I must state, and\nvery rapidly, what these changes are. There are three of them. The first\nis, that a new dogma has been established. The new dogma amounts to\nthis, without going into details, that Mary, the mother of Christ, was\ncreated, at the moment she began to exist, exempt from original sin. All\nhuman beings are guilty of Adam's sin, with one exception, and that\nexception is Mary. That exception dates from the very first instant of\nher existence. She never was, even in thought or in feeling, a sinner;\nshe is consequently out of the pale of humanity; she is not a human\nbeing; she is more than a woman, she is something godlike from before\nher birth. That is the dogma. It is not new; it was invented in Spain;\nit is a Spanish, an Andalusian dogma. It was invented at a time when the\nCatholics in Spain were laboring very hard to expel from their country\nthe Moors, the African Moslems, who were masters of a great part of\nSpain, and who had more science, more art, and more literary culture\nthan the Christians of Spain, but who had absurd doctrines about the\nfamily and about religion, as well you know. Nothing could displease\nthem more, could astonish them more, or could confound all their ideas\nmore, than to tell them that a woman was godlike. They thought, as all\nMoslems have thought, that a woman had no soul; and here was a woman who\nwas a goddess before her birth, who was always a goddess. This was\nsomething absolutely incredible to them, and it showed the great\ndifference between Christians and Moslems, between Spaniards and Arabs.\nThis became the general rule among the Spaniards of the southern part of\nthe country, in Andalusia especially; and when they met one another they\ndid not salute with words of good greeting, but for centuries it was the\nhabit in Andalusia, when one Spaniard met another, to say to him, _Ave\nMaria purissima_, and the other answered, _Sin pecado concepida_, which\nmeans that that dogma was proclaimed every time two persons met. This\ndogma has been taken into special favor by the very powerful order of\nJesuits. They thought it was important to the church; it was putting\nMary in the highest honor, to have that dogma become the law of the\nchurch. But up to the present century, up to last year in the Roman\nCatholic Church, people could believe it or not; now the Pope has\ndeclared that henceforth every man who does not believe that dogma is\neternally lost and damned. This he has decreed, after consulting with\nsome bishops, with whom he conferred about it, but declaring that he did\nso of his own accord, because, as pope, he had a right to decide on\nthat. He said, it is no new doctrine; it has always been in the church.\nAs the great writer Father Perrone wrote, \"That dogma has been\ndeveloping itself in the church a long time.\" When I saw the Church of\nRome speaking of a dogma \"developing itself,\" I thought, This is the\nbeginning of the end. If they understand that dogmas develop themselves,\nthat they have not fallen like aerolites from the heavens, it seems to\nme that that is the end of infallibility. Some people think it was the\nbeginning of infallibility, that it was the Pope for the first time\ndeclaring a dogma for all men without consulting officially or legally\nany one, and that when he had done this he had augmented his power. I\nmust remark here, that when a pope is very weak, the general rule is, he\ndoes something extremely strong. When he is extremely weak, politically,\nmaterially, he generally makes some great demonstration of spiritual\npower. When Pope Gregorius VII. kept Henry in his shirt a whole night at\nthe door of the castle of Canossa without opening the door to him,\nsaying, \"You are a sinner, do penance,\"--when he did that, the Pope had\nbeen expelled from Rome, he had lost Rome, therefore he must prove his\nimmense spiritual power, because his temporal power was lost. And when\nthe present Pope has done acts of authority greater than any other pope,\nit has not been because he was strong, but because he was weak; to\nremain on his throne he wanted to have the bayonets of Louis Bonaparte\nto keep him in power. His own subjects would very soon have shown him a\nsecond time the way to the frontier, if they had not been prevented by\nthe bayonets of that man. Thus the Pope did more towards asserting and\nconfirming his own power than any of his two hundred and fifty odd\npredecessors. When afterwards he took a new step, it was in continuance\nof this. He called a council when three hundred years had elapsed since\nan [oe]cumenical council had been called. I know old Roman Catholic\nfamilies who had been waiting for centuries for the moment when an\n[oe]cumenical council should assemble, to denounce before that council\nthe encroachments of the Pope, and to ask that the popedom be kept\nwithin bounds for the future. Pio IX. had an [oe]cumenical council\ncalled, and held it in his own house, in the Vatican. And there, in one\nend of one of the transepts of the immense church of Saint Peter, the\nPope had himself declared infallible by the council. Thus all the other\ncouncils which had been the hope of such persons in the church as could\nnot accept every word of the Pope, all those councils have been\nsacrificed, have abdicated, in the last of them, at the foot of the\nPope. Now, the Roman Catholic Church has become very logically, what it\nought to become, the same thing in the spiritual world that the Roman\nEmpire became in the temporal world. The Roman Emperor was every thing;\nthere had been priests and magistrates who had great powers; then the\nemperor made himself dictator, consul, tribune of the people; made\nhimself high bridge-maker; took upon himself all dignities. He was every\nthing; and then the whole Roman Empire was one man; and sometimes it\nhappened that that man was a mad man like Caligula, who said, \"I am\nsorry that all men have not one head that I might cut it off.\" Such was\nthe unity of the Roman Empire, and we see the same fact in the Roman\nCatholic Church to this extent, that there is one human brain that\nthinks for all Roman Catholics in the world, and if that human brain\ndecides that such a thing is or is not, all other human brains must\nbelieve it, or be damned eternally; there is no choice. This is\nperfectly logical; this is not an unexpected change; this must have come\nto pass. As the Pope became physically weak, the more absolute became\nthe necessity that this should be done. Now, he is weak, he has lost\nRome. Although it was not in my way, I passed through Rome a few months\nago for the purpose of seeing Rome free, and it was an immense joy to\nsee that. I had seen Rome groaning under that proud, domineering\ngovernment of the priests, who declared that their government was the\nbest in the world, while the whole world called it emphatically _il mal\ngoverno_. Now I have seen it free; and I think no Bonaparte of France,\nnor any French Government, nor any other government, had any right to\ngive up Rome to the priests, to prevent the Romans from being masters in\ntheir own house, from being free in their own city. I must declare to\nyou, that if in one sense the Roman Catholic Church has lost a great\ndeal because she has lost that great tradition, lost that long habit of\nruling in Rome, and the high prestige that comes from it, yet the Roman\nCatholic Church has gained more perhaps than she has lost in this. You\nmust not believe that the Roman Catholic Church is to disappear\nto-morrow, or the next day: that shall not happen. There are hundreds of\nthousands of souls who like better to have one man on a throne thinking\nfor them, taking on his conscience and his honor the question of their\nsalvation,--they like that better than to think for themselves; and\nthere will be Roman Catholic churches for a long time to come. They will\neven be stronger in one sense, because that temporal power was so\nexercised that it caused great weakness; and now the Pope will be\nstrengthened; will find more interest and sympathy, because he is a king\nwithout a crown, a king without a throne: in his weakness he will find\nnew strength.\n\nWhat must we do, we Protestants, in the presence of this fact? Must we\nexaggerate, must we be unfair in our attacks? No. Must we go to sleep,\nthinking there is nothing to do? No, not that either. We must work; we\nmust work steadily to give light and instruction to all. We have\nhere,--and I have tried in a very rapid way to give you an idea of\nit,--we have here history. That is the greatest of weapons in such a\ncase as this. Usurpers never like history, because they know very well\nthat history condemns them. We must make history known, make the facts\nknown, and proclaim liberty and the rights of the human conscience. We\nmust do that over the whole world. I do not believe that Protestantism,\nas it has often been said, is nothing else but Roman Catholicism\nstripped of some of its abuses, and without some of its errors. It is\nsomething else. If there were time, and I could begin now instead of\nending, I would try to show you that in the history of Protestantism,\nand even before Protestantism appeared, there has always been, next to\nthat stream of power of Roman Catholicism, always becoming stronger and\nmore encroaching up to these last days, another current of protest;\nthere have always been men struggling for faith with liberty, who said,\n\"That cannot be;\" who understood better the Gospel, who liked the spirit\nof the Gospel, the spirit of God in Christ, better than the spirit of\nRome. For centuries their mouths may have been closed; their speaking\nand teaching punished by death; but always they became more and more\nnumerous, and active, and vigorous; and then came the great day of\nLuther. Protestantism has not been a negation, a remnant of Roman\nCatholicism, the negative side of Christianity. I cannot adopt that idea\nin the least. True Protestantism is full of the spirit of the Gospel; it\nis the living soul of Christ in the Church, it embodies the perfect\nconviction that there is truth, that there is salvation, that there is\nliberty, in the Gospel, and nowhere else so completely.\n\nNow, we must consider the Roman Catholic Church as being an organization\nof power, the most dreadful, the most tyrannical, the most crushing\norganization of power that ever was. It is the master-piece of Roman\ngenius. It has been preparing during centuries, and it has been complete\nonly since yesterday. It is a great organization against liberty,\nagainst man's rights, against man's conscience, for the honor of a\nchurch and of a man. And this we must resist, too. In my country, I\ndeclare that the cause of all our ills, the fact that is at the basis of\nall our suffering and all our misfortunes, is nothing else than Roman\nCatholicism. This is against the conscience of many souls; this throws\nmany people into sheer Atheism, because they see no choice between\nkissing the shoe of the Pope, as is done in ceremonies, and denying the\nexistence of God. So they deny God rather than submit to the Pope. We\nmust give them sound teaching, religious teaching; we must give them\nthe Gospel. And I came to this country to say these things to you; to\nask you to help us with all your might, and with all your heart, to do\nwhat is necessary should be done in France to-day; what will be\nnecessary to be done in this country sooner or later, and what will be\nnecessary to be done in all countries, to show more and more that \"where\nis the Spirit of the Lord, there is liberty.\"\n\n\n\n\nSELFHOOD AND SACRIFICE\n\nBy ORVILLE DEWEY.\n\n\nThe title which I have chosen for this discourse, is Selfhood and\nSacrifice. My purpose is, to consider what place these principles have\nin human culture. I use the word, selfhood, rather than self-regard or\nself-interest, because I wish to go back to the original\nprinciple--selfhood, according to the analogy of our language,\ndescribing the simple and absolute condition in which self exists; as\nmanhood does that of man, or childhood, that of a child. And I say\nsacrifice, rather than self-sacrifice, because the true principle does\nnot require the sacrifice of our highest self, but only of that which\nunlawfully hinders outflow from self.\n\nThe subject of culture has been brought before the public of late, by\nProfessor Huxley, and Matthew Arnold, and Mr. Shairp. I do not propose\nto enter into the questions which have engaged their able pens, but to\ngo back to those primary and foundation principles, which I have\nproposed to consider--the one of which is the centre, and the other, the\ncircumference of human culture,--Selfhood and Sacrifice.\n\nIt is the object of this course of lectures, in part at least as I\nunderstand it, to discuss this subject--to discuss, _i.e._ the\nprinciples and grounds, on which right reason and rational Christianity\npropose to build up a good and exalted character. Now with regard to\nwhat Christianity teaches, has it never occurred to you, or has it never\nseemed to you, in reading the Gospels, that they appeal to\nself-interest, to the desire to be saved, in a way that is at variance\nwith the loftiest motives? But it is appealed to, and therefore is, in\nsome sense, sanctioned. And yet, as if this self-interest were something\nwrong, the prevalence of it in the world, the world's selfishness in\nother words, is represented by many preachers, as if it were the sum of\nall wickedness, the proof indeed, of total depravity. Here then, it\nseems to me, whether we look at Christianity or at the teachings of the\npulpit, there is urgent need of discrimination. And there is another\naspect of the same subject, which seems to require attention; and that\nis what is called, individualism--the mentally living, if not for, yet\nin and out of ourselves; claiming to find all the springs and forces of\nfaith and culture within ourselves, to the exclusion of the proper\ninfluence of society, of Christianity, of the whole great realm of the\npast, by which we have been trained and formed; individualism, which\nsays, \"I belong to myself, and to nobody else, and do not choose to be\nbrought or organized into any system of faith or action with anybody\nelse.\" This, indeed, is an extreme to which, perhaps, but few minds go;\nbut there is a tendency of this kind, which needs to be looked into.\n\nNow there is a way of thinking, in matters of practical expediency, to\nwhich I confess that I am committed by my life-long reflections; and\nwhich has always prevented me from going to the extreme with any party,\nwhether in reforms, in politics, in religious systems, or in any thing\nelse; and that is, to look to the mean in things; to look upon human\nnature and human culture, as held in the balance between opposing\nprinciples. With this view, I shall first undertake to show that the\nprinciple of self-regard, or of individualism, is right and lawful--is\nindeed, an essential principle of culture.\n\nThere is a remarkable passage in the old \"Theologia Germanica,\" which\nhits, I think, the very point in this matter of self-regard. Speaking of\nits highest man, it says, \"All thought of self, all self-seeking,\nself-will, and what cometh thereof, must be utterly lost, surrendered\nand given over to God, _except in so far as they are necessary to make\nup a person_.\" This personality, this stand-point, we must hold to, go\nwhere we will.\n\nBut let me state more precisely what it is, that is here conceded, and\nmust be maintained; and why it is important to defend and justify it. I\ncall it selfhood; and the word, I conceive, is philosophically necessary\nto meet the case. Because it is a principle, that goes behind\nselfishness; and of which selfishness is the excess and abuse.\nSelfishness calculates, overreaches, circumvents. But selfhood is\nsimpler. It is the instinctive, instantaneous, uncalculating rush of our\nfaculties, to preserve, protect and help ourselves. Selfishness proposes\nto take advantage of others; selfhood only to take care of itself. It is\nnot, as a principle of our nature, a depraved instinct; animals possess\nit. It is not moral, or immoral, but simply unmoral. It is a simple\nforce, necessary to our self-preservation, to our individuality, to our\npersonality. The highest moral natures feel it as well as the lowest.\nThe martyr, who gives up every thing else, holds his integrity fast and\ndear. It is written of the great Martyr, that, \"for the joy that was set\nbefore him, he endured the cross, despising the shame.\" No being that\nis not an idiot, can be divested of all care and regard for himself. And\nnot only does necessity enforce, but justice defends the principle. If\nhappiness is a good, and there are two equal amounts of it, the one of\nwhich is mine, and the other my neighbor's, I may in strict justice,\nvalue and desire my own as much as his. If I love his more than my own,\nI go beyond the commandment. It is not worth while to put any Utopian\nstrain upon the bond of virtue; nay, it does positive harm.\n\nYet this is constantly done; to the injury of virtue, of conscience, and\nof a proper self-respect. In our theories of culture, we demand of\nourselves, what is impossible, what is unjust to ourselves, what\nrepudiates a part of the very nature we would cultivate. We demand of\nourselves, and we suppose that Christianity demands of us, a certain\nunattainable perfection,--or what we call perfection,--a sinking of\nourselves out of sight, and an absorption into the love of God and men,\nquite beyond our reach: and failing of that--thinking it entirely out of\nour sphere, we give up the proper rational endeavor to be Christians. We\nmake the highest virtue something exceptional, instead of regarding it\nas a prize for us all. We imagine that some few have attained it; that\nJesus did, and that a few persons, denominated _saints_, have approached\nhim; but that for the common run of men, this is all out of the\nquestion. The fact is, that Christianity is regarded by many, as an\nenigma, a secret of the initiated, as an idle vision or hard\nexaction--not as a rational culture. Listen to the conversation of the\nmart or the drawing-room, you will find that the high Christian law is\nbut a mocking dream in their eyes. \"Giving to him that asketh, and from\nhim that would borrow, turning not away, and to him that takes from us\nour coat, giving our cloak also; and turning the other cheek to the\nsmiter;\"--what is this, they say, but extravagance and fanaticism? As if\nthey did not know that there is such a figure of speech as hyperbole;\nand that it was perfectly natural, in a society where the poor and the\nweak were trodden under foot, for the greatest heart that ever was, thus\nto pour out itself in pleadings for sympathy, commiseration and\nkindness. But the same Master said, \"It is profitable for thee--it is\nbetter for thee,\" to have some of thy pleasures cut off--thine offending\nhand or eye; rather _that_, than to have thy whole being whelmed in\nmisery.\n\nIt is really necessary in this matter, not only to vindicate\nChristianity as a reasonable religion, but to vindicate human nature to\nitself; to save it from the abjectness of feeling that the necessity of\nself-help is an ignoble necessity. Men say, \"Yes, we are all selfish, we\nare all bad;\" and they sink into discouragement or apathy, under that\nview.\n\nThe conditions of true culture are attracting increased attention at the\npresent time; and it is natural that they should, when men's minds are\ngetting rid of theologic definitions and assumptions, and are coming to\ntake broad and manly views of the subject. I am endeavoring to make my\nhumble contribution to it; and with this view, to show, in the first\nplace, what part our very selfhood, both of right and of necessity, has\nin it.\n\nThis principle lies in the very roots of our being; and it is developed\nearliest in our nature. Before the love of right, of virtue, of truth,\nappears this self-regard. Disinterestedness is of later growth. Infancy\ncomes into the world like a royal heir, and takes possession, as if the\nworld were made for itself alone. Itself is all it knows; it will by and\nby, take a wider range. There is a natural process of improvement in the\nvery progress of life. \"You will get better,\" says a dramatic\nsatirist,[7] \"as you get older; all men do. They are worst in childhood,\nimprove in manhood, and get ready, in old age, for another world. Youth\nwith its beauty and grace, would seem bestowed on us, for some such\nreason, as to make us partly endurable, till we have time to become so\nof ourselves, without their aid, when they leave us. The sweetest child\nwe all smile on, for his pleasant want of the whole world to break up,\nor suck in his mouth, seeing no other good in it--would be roughly\nhandled by that world's inhabitants, if he retained those angelic,\ninfantile desires, when he has grown six feet high, black and bearded;\nbut little by little, he sees fit to forego claim after claim on the\nworld, puts up with a less and less share of its good as his proper\nportion, and when the octogenarian asks barely for a sup of gruel or a\nfire of dry sticks, and thanks you as for his full allowance and right\nin the common good of life,--hoping nobody will murder him--he who began\nby asking and expecting the whole world to bow down in worship to\nhim--why, I say, he is advanced far onward, very far, nearly out of\nsight.\"\n\n[Footnote 7: Browning: A Soul's Tragedy, p. 250.]\n\nThis advancement, thus springing out of the very experience of life, I\nam yet to consider, and have it most at heart to consider. It is of such\npriceless worth, it so embraces all that is noble in humanity, that the\nimportance of the opposite principle, is liable to be quite overlooked.\nSelfishness, which is the excess of a just self-regard, is the one form\nof all evil in the world. The world cries out upon it, and heaps upon it\nevery epithet, expressive of meanness, baseness and guilt. And let it\nbear the branding scorn; but let us not fail to see, though selfishness\nbe the satirist's mark, and the philosopher's reproach, and the\ntheologian's argument, the real nature and value of the principle, from\nwhich it proceeds.\n\nSelfhood I have preferred to call it; self-love, be it, if you please.\nIt is that, which satire and false criticism have misconstrued, when\nthey have said that love of kindred, of friends, of country, of God\nhimself, is but self-love. The mistake arises from that primal and vital\npart and participation which ourself has in every thing that we enjoy or\nlove or adore. This magnificent _I_--and I emphasize it, because all\nmeanness is thought to be concentred in that word--this mysterious and\nmagnificent _I_--this that one means, when he says I--we may utter, but\ncan never explain, nor fully express it. There are great men in the\nworld, whose lives are of far more importance than mine--statesmen,\ncommanders, kings--but _I_--no being can feel an intenser interest in\nhis individuality than I do in mine; no being can be of more importance\nto himself than I am to myself; the very poles of thought and being turn\nupon that slender line; that simple unity, like the unit in figures,\nswells to infinite multiplication; that one letter, that single stroke\nof pen or type, may be varied and complicated, till it writes the\nhistory of the world. \"I think, therefore I am,\" said the philosopher;\nbut the bare utterance of the word I, yields a vaster inference. No\nanimal ever knew what that word means. It is some time before the little\nchild learns to say, I. It says, \"Willy or Ellen wants this or\nthat--will go here or there.\" What is insanity, but the wreck of this\npersonality? The victim loses himself. And the morally insane, the\nprodigal, when he returns to reason and virtue, comes to himself.\n\n\"A man's self,\" says Thackeray, \"must always be serious to him, under\nwhatever mask or disguise or uniform he presents it to the public.\" Yes,\nthough it were as mime, harlequin, jester fool almost; nor could there\nbe a more deplorable or desperate condition for a human being, than to\naccount himself nothing, or nothing worth, or worthy only to be the butt\nof universal scorn and contempt. From this utter ruin, every man is\nprotected by that mysterious and momentous personality that dwells\nwithin him. We may be little in comparison with the general mass of\ninterests, little in comparison with kingdoms, little in comparison with\nthe swelling grandeur of thrones and empires, little in comparison with\nthe great orb that rolls round the sun, and bears millions of such; but\nwe are forever great in the sense of individual destiny. _This_ swells\nbeyond kingships, grandeurs, empires, worlds, to infinitude and\neternity.\n\nThere is another element in this selfhood, to be considered, besides its\nconscious importance, and that is free will--itself also unmoral, but\nindispensable. For imagine a rational being to be placed in this world,\n_without_ free will. He can choose neither wrong nor right. He has a\nconscience, but no freedom; no power to choose any thing. It is, I\nthink, an incongruous and impossible kind of existence; but imagine it.\nEvils, troubles, temptations press against this being, and he can do\nnothing; he cannot even will to resist. Could there be a condition more\nhorrible? No; man is a nobler and happier being than this amounts to.\nFree will is put in him, on purpose to fight the great battle against\nevil. He could not fight, if he could not will. He could not choose the\nright, without being free to choose the wrong; for choosing one path\nwithout being at liberty to take the other, would be no choosing. Free\nwill is to fight the battle. It is a glorious prerogative. And man, I\nbelieve, is out of all proportion, happier, with this power, all its\naberrations included, than he would be without it. I am glad for my\npart, that I am not passing through this world, like a car on a\nrailroad, or turning round like a wheel in a mill; that I can go, this\nway or that, take one path or another; that I can read, or write, or\nstudy, or labor, or do business; and that when the great trial-hour,\nbetween right and wrong, comes, though I may choose the wrong, yet that\nI _can_ choose the right. What better would there be for me than\nthis--what better constitution of a rational nature? I know of no better\npossible.\n\nSelfhood, then--this interest in ourselves, being seen to be right, and\nthe play of free will which is a part of it desirable; let us turn\nfinally to the useful working of the principle. You may have said in\nlistening to me thus far, \"What need of insisting so much upon\nself-regard, which we all perfectly well understand?\" I doubt whether it\nis so well understood; and this must be my apology. We have seen that\nthe principle is native and necessary to us; let us look a moment, at\nits utility.\n\nI am put in charge of myself--of my life, first of all. So strong is the\nimpulse to keep and defend it, that self-preservation has been called\nthe first law of our being. But that argues an antecedent\nfact--self-appreciation. Why preserve that which we value not? We\ndefend ourself, because we prize ourself. We defend our life, with the\ninstant rush of all our faculties to the rescue. \"Very selfish,\" one may\nsay; \"And why does a man care so much for himself; he isn't worth it.\"\nHe can't help it. He obeys the primal bond; he is a law to himself. Is\nit not well? Man's life would perish in a thousand ways, if he did not\nthus care for it. The great, universal and most effective guardianship\nover human life everywhere, is--not government nor law, not guns nor\nbattlements, not sympathy, not society--but this self-care.\n\nI am put in charge of my own comfort, of my sustenance. I must provide\nfor it. And to provide for it, I must have property--house, land,\nstores, means--something that must be my own, and not another's. If I\nwere an animal, I might find food and shelter in the common storehouse\nof nature's bounty. But I have other wants; if I have no provision for\nthem that is my own; if some godless International League, or Agrarian\nLaw, could break down all the rights of property, there would be an end\nto industry, to order, to comfort, and eventually to life itself.\nWhatever evils, whatever monstrous crimes come of the love of gain, its\nextinction would be infinitely worse.\n\nI am put in charge of my good name, my place among men. I must regard\nit. I am sinking to recklessness about virtue if I cease to value\napprobation. Even the martyr, looking to God alone, seeks approval. And\ngood men's approbation is the reflection of that. To seek honor from men\nat the expense of principle, is what the Master condemns--not the desire\nof honor. It has been made a question whether the love of approbation\nshould be appealed to, in schools. It cannot be kept out, from there,\nnor from anywhere else. If it could, if the vast network of social\nregards, in which men are now held, were torn asunder, society would\nfall to pieces.\n\nFinally, I am put in charge of my virtue--of that above all. And that I\nmust get and keep for myself; no other can do it for me. Another may\nstretch out the hand to defend me from a fatal blow; another may endow\nme with wealth; another may give me the praise I do not deserve; but no\nfriendly intervention, no deed of gift, no flattery, no falsity, can\ngive me inward truth and integrity. That solemn point in human\nexperience, that question upon which every thing hangs--shall I do\nright?--or shall I do wrong?--is shrouded in the secrecy and silence of\nmy own mind. All the power in the world, cannot do for me the thing that\nI must do for myself. To me, to me, the decision is committed.\n\nNow what I have been saying, is this; it is well that that self-regard,\nupon which so much is devolved, should be strong; that there should be\nno apathy, no indifference, upon this point; that if ever a man wanders\naway into recklessness, into idleness, into disgrace, into utter moral\ndelinquency and lawlessness, he should be brought to a stand, and\nbrought back again, if possible, by this intense and uncontrollable\nregard for himself--for his own well-being. I do not resolve every thing\nin human nature, into the desire of well being. I do not say that the\nlove of life, of property, of reputation, still less of virtue, is the\nsame as the love of happiness; but I say that to the pursuit of all\nthese a man is urged, driven, almost forced, by this love of his own\nwell-being; nay more to the pursuit of the highest eventually, and that,\nby the very laws of his nature.\n\nLet us now turn to the other principle which I propose to discuss--that\nwhich opens the whole field of our culture--the principle that carries\nus out of, and beyond ourselves.\n\nIt has been no part of my design, in discussing the principle of\nselfhood, to show the hinderance to culture, and the evil every way,\nthat come from the abuse of it. That will be sufficiently manifest, if\nit be made to appear, that all culture and happiness are found in the\nopposite direction. But if I wanted to put this in the strongest light,\nI should point to the pain and obstruction which are experienced in a\ndiseased self-consciousness. It would be a powerful argument for that\ngoing out of self, which I am about to speak of. Self, if it is a\nnecessary stand-point, is yet liable to be always in our way. A morbid\nanxiety about our position, our credit with men, the good or ill opinion\nothers have of our talents, tastes or merits, causes more misery, I am\ninclined to think, than any other form of human selfishness. See a\ncompany of persons, inthralled with music, charmed by eloquence,\ntransported by some heroic action set before them; and they forget\nthemselves; they do not think, how they look, how they are dressed, what\nothers think of them, in their common delight.\n\nThe sense of this, I believe it was, that lay at the bottom of the old\nBuddhist doctrine of Nirwana--_i.e._, self-oblivion. To lose this\nwearisome, diseased self, seemed to Gautama, the great apostle of\nBuddhism, to be the chief good. Nirwana has been taken to mean absolute\nannihilation. I do not believe the Buddhists meant that; for to me, it\nis incredible, that any great sect, numbering millions, should have so\ntotally given up the natural love of existence, and desire of\nimmortality; and Max M\u00fcller and others have brought that construction\nof the Buddhist creed, into doubt. Individuals may go that length.\nUnhappy Blanco White, tortured in body and mind, could say that he\ndesired no more of life, here or hereafter. A German naturalist could\nsay, \"Blessed be the death hour--the time when I shall cease to be.\" But\nthis revolt against self and very self-existence, whether ancient or\nmodern, I advert to, only to show the necessity of going out from it, in\norder to build up the kingdom of God within us. It is notable; it is\nsuggestive; but it is neither healthy, nor true to human nature. Far\ntruer is that admirable little poem of David Wasson's, originally\nentitled \"Bugle Notes,\" which in unfolding the blessing and joy of\nexistence, touches, I think, the deepest and divinest sense of things.\n\nBut let us proceed to consider the law of sacrifice--not sacrifice of\nhappiness nor improvement, but the finding of both, in going out from\nself, to that which is beyond and above it.\n\nA man's thought starts from himself; but if it stopped there, he would\nbe nothing. All philosophy, science, knowledge presuppose certain\noriginal faculties and intuitions; but not to cultivate or carry them\nout, would leave their possessor to be the mere root or germ of a man. A\nline in geometry presupposes a point; but unless the point is extended,\nthere can be no geometry; it is a point barren of all science, of all\nculture.\n\nEvery intellectual step is a step out of one's self. The philosopher who\nstudies _himself_, that he may understand his own mind and nature, is\nbut studying himself objectively; his very self _then_ lies out of\nhimself, and is an abstraction to him. And the mathematician, the\nastronomer, the naturalist, the poet, the artist, each one goes out of\nhimself. His subject, his theorem, his picture it is, that draws\nhim--not reward, not reputation. Doubtless Newton or Herschel, when he\nleft his diagram or his telescope, and seated himself in the bosom of\nhis family, might say, \"We must live; I must have income; and if public\nor private men offer to remunerate and sustain me, it is right that they\nshould do so.\" But the moment he plunges into deep philosophic\nmeditation, he forgets all that. Nature has more than a bridal charm,\nscience more than golden treasures, truth more than pontifical\nauthority, to its votaries. Not wooing, but worship, is found at its\nshrines and altars. In the grand hierarchies of science, of literature,\nof art, there is a veritable priesthood, as pure, as unworldly, as can\nbe found in any church. It is delightful to look upon its work, upon its\ncalm and loving enthusiasm. The naturalist brings under his microscope,\nthe smallest and most unattractive specimen of organized matter, and\ngoes into ecstasies over it, that might seem ridiculous; but no, this is\na piece of _holy nature_--a link in the chain of its majestic harmonies.\n\nAnd so every intellectual laborer, when his work is noblest, forgets\nhimself--the lawyer in his case, the preacher in his sermon, the\nphysician in his patient. Is it not true then, and is it not noteworthy,\nthat all the intellectual treasures that are gathered to form the\nnoblest humanity, all the intellectual forces that are bearing it\nonward, come of self-forgetting?\n\nEqually true is it--more true if possible, in the moral field. The man\nwho is revolving around himself, must move in a very small circle.\nVanity, self-conceit, thinking much of one's self, may be the foible of\nsome able and learned men, but never of the greatest men: because the\nwider is the circle of a man's thought or knowledge, at the more points\ndoes he see and feel his limitations. Vanity is always professional,\nnever philosophic. It belongs to a narrow, technical, never to the\nlargest, moral culture. And all the moral _forces_ in the world, are\nstrongest, divinest, when clearest of self. When the public man seeks\nhis own advancement, more than the public weal, he is no more a\nstatesman, but a mere politician; and when the reformer cares more for\nhis own opinion than for the end to be gained, the people will not\nregard nor respect him. The world may be very selfish, but it will have\nhonesty in those whom it permits to serve it.\n\nThe truth is that the whole culture of the world, is built on sacrifice;\nand all the nobleness in the world lies in that. To show that, it is\nonly necessary to point to those classes of men and spheres of action,\nwhich exert the widest influence upon the improvement and welfare of\nmankind. They will all be found to bear that mark.\n\nLook, first, at the professional teachers of the world--the authors,\nartists, professors, schoolmasters, clergymen. In returns of worldly\ngoods, their services have been paid less, than any other equal ability\nand accomplishment in the world. Doubtless there have been exceptions;\nsome English bishops and Roman prelates have been rich; and some authors\nand artists have gained a modest competence. More are doing it now, and\nyet more will. But the great body of intellectual laborers, has been\npoor. The instruction of the world, has been carried on by perpetual\nsacrifice. A grand army of teachers--authors, artists, schoolmasters,\nprofessors, heads of colleges--have been through ages, carrying on the\nwar against ignorance; but no triumphal procession has been decreed to\nit; no spoils of conquered provinces have come to its coffers; no crown\nimperial has invested with pomp and power. In lonely watch-towers the\nfires of genius have burned, but to waste and consume the lamp of life,\nwhile they gave light to the world.\n\nIt is no answer to say that the victims of intellectual toil, broken\ndown in health or fortune, have counted their work, a privilege and joy.\nAs well deny the martyr's sacrifice, because he has joyed in his\nintegrity. And many of the world's intellectual benefactors, have been\nmartyrs. Socrates died in prison, as a public malefactor; for the\nhealing wisdom he offered his people, deadly poison was the reward.\nHomer had a lot so obscure, at least, that nobody knew his birthplace;\nand indeed some modern critics are denying that there ever was any\nHomer. Plato travelled back and forth from his home in Athens to the\ncourt of the Syracusan tyrant, regarded indeed and feared, but\npersecuted and in peril of life; nay, and once sold for a slave. Cicero\nshared a worse fate. Dante, all his life knew, as he expressed it,--\n\n    \"How salt was a stranger's bread,\n    How hard the path still up and down to tread,\n    A stranger's stairs.\"\n\nCopernicus and Galileo found science no more profitable than Dante found\npoetry. Shakspeare had a home; but too poorly endowed to stand long in\nhis name, after he left it; the income upon which he retired was barely\ntwo or three hundred pounds a year; and so little did his contemporaries\nknow or think of him, that the critics hunt in vain for the details of\nhis private life. \"The mighty space of his large honors,\" shrinks to an\nobscure myth of a life in theatres of London or on the banks of the\nAvon.\n\nI might go on to speak, but it needs not, of the noble philanthropists\nand missionaries, often spoken of lightly in these days, because what is\nnoblest must endure the severest criticism; of inventors, seldom\nrewarded for their sagacity and the immense benefits they have conferred\nupon the world; of soldiers, our own especially, buried by thousands, in\nunknown graves--green, would we fain say, green forever be the mounds\nthat cover them! Let processions of men and women and children, every\nyear, bring flowers, bring garlands of honor, to their lowly tombs!\n\nBut there is another form of self-consecration which is yet more\nessential, and which is universal. And yet _because_ it is essential and\nuniversal, the very life-spring of the world's growth; because it is no\nsignal benefit, but the common blessing of our existence; because it\nmoulds our unconscious infancy, and mingles with our thoughtless\nchildhood, and is an incorporate part of our being, it is apt to be\noverlooked and forgotten. The sap that flows up through the roots of the\nworld--it is out of sight. The stately growths we _see_; the trees that\ndrop balsam and healing upon the nations, we _see_; the schools, the\nuniversities, the hospitals, which beneficence has builded, we _see_;\nbut the stream that, through all ages, is flowing from sire to son, is a\nhidden current.\n\nIt is one of the miracles of the world--this life that is forever\nlosing, merging itself in a new life. We talk of martyrdoms; but there\nare ten thousands of martyrdoms, of which the world never hears.\nBeautiful it is to die for our country; beautiful it is to surrender\nlife for the cause of religious freedom; beautiful to _go forth_, to\nbear help and healing to the sick, the wounded, the outcast and forlorn;\nbut there are those who _stay at home_, alone, unknown, uncelebrated, to\ndo and to bear more than is ever done, in one brief act of heroism or\nhour of martyrdom. In ten thousand homes are those, whose life-long care\nand anxiety wear and waste them to the grave. They count it no praise;\nthey consider it no sacrifice. I speak not, but for the simple truth, of\nthat which to me, is too holy for eulogy. But meet it is, that a\ngeneration coming into life, which owes its training and culture and\npreservation to a generation that is passing away, should be sensible of\nthis truth--of this solemn mystery of Providence--of this law of\nsacrifice, of this outflow from self into domestic, into social life,\nwhich lies at the very roots of the world.\n\nThere is one further application of the principle of disinterestedness,\nwhich goes beyond classes and instances such as I have mentioned, and\nembraces men simply as fellow-men. Much has been said among us of late\nyears, and none too much, of the dangers of an extreme individualism. We\nbegan as a religious body, in a strong assertion of the rights of\nindividual opinion; and we went on in that spirit for a considerable\ntime; till it seemed, at length, as if we were liable to lose all\ncoherence and to fall to pieces in utter disintegration. But a few years\nago, moving in that zig-zag line which marks all human progress, we\nawoke to the dangers of the situation; and happily found that if we\ncould not agree upon any technical definition of Christian faith, we\n_could_ combine for Christian work. The National Conference was formed;\na new impulse was given; new funds were poured into our treasury; we are\ncirculating books and tracts more widely than we have ever done before;\nwe are helping feeble churches and founding new ones, besides doing\nsomething for missions abroad: in short, we are trying to do the work\nwhich, in common with other Christian communions, properly belongs to\nus.\n\nBut there is another movement, which I regard with equal interest, and\nwhich promises in fact, to go deeper than any thing else we can do. I\nallude to those Unions, in which, I think the city of Providence leads\nthe way: and in which New Bedford, Worcester, and Brooklyn have followed\nthe example. These associations provide a public room or rooms, well\nlighted and warmed, for those who will, to resort to them; but\nespecially for the young, who most need good culture, entertainment and\nencouragement; and in these rooms are found books, pictures, games, and\nmusic perhaps; and classes for regular instruction may be formed, and\nlectures occasionally given, or discussions held; in fact, whatever will\ncontribute to the general improvement and to the pleasant and profitable\npassing of social evenings, may be introduced. This kind of institution\nis especially adapted to our smaller cities; and may be extended to our\ncountry villages. Our people in the country, live too much apart and\nalone; and besides the direct advantages of these gatherings together, a\nmutual acquaintance and a kindly feeling would be promoted, which are of\nscarcely less importance.\n\nLet me add that there is a new ideal of life, which, I think, is slowly\narising among us; and which, when it is fully carried out, I believe,\nwill make an impression upon society, never before seen in the world.\nThis is the idea of mutual helpfulness; of every man's living not to\nhimself, but to God, in loving and helping his kind. Helpfulness, I\nsay--that which Mr. Ruskin describes as the most glorious attribute of\nGod himself; and which has so seized upon his imagination, that he\nventures to substitute for \"Holy, holy, holy is the Lord,\" Helpful,\nhelpful, helpful, is the Lord God Almighty! This will not do; but it\nindicates a glorious tendency of modern thought. The old ideal of life\nhas been, to get together the means of comfort and enjoyment; to get\nwealth, to get a fine house, to get luxuries for wassail and feasting,\nor to get books and pictures; and then to sit down and enjoy all this\ngood estate, and transmit it to fortunate heirs, with little thought of\nothers--with some charities perhaps, but without taking into heart or\nlife, the common weal, happiness and improvement of all around.\n\nWhat a millennium would it begin, if, instead of this, every man should\nbe thinking, just so far as he can go beyond taking care of his own body\nand soul, what he can do for others--not in any merely eleemosynary way;\nnot merely to instruct and improve men, with the pharisaic assumption of\nbeing better or better off than they; but by acting a brotherly part\ntowards them, speaking neighborly words, doing neighborly deeds,\nsmoothing the path, softening the lot, seeing all erring and sorrow, and\njoy and worth, as if they were their own; and wherever there is any\ndifficulty or trial or need, to \"lend a hand.\" Whenever such a spirit\nenters into and pervades society, it will make a world, compared with\nwhich, _our_ time will sink back among the dark ages.\n\nIn short, when is it, that a man does and is, the highest that he is\ncapable of? The answer is, when forgetting himself, forgetting\nadvantage, gain, praise, fame, he pours himself out, in intellectual or\nmoral, and, any way, beneficent activity. When does culture or art in\nhim attain to the highest? It is when going beyond all thoughts of\nculture and art, he flings himself, in perfect sympathy and free\ncommunion, into the great mass of human interests. It is so that the\ngreatest things have been achieved in all the higher fields of human\neffort--in writing, in eloquence, in painting and sculpture and music;\nand it is so, especially, that the doers of great things, have become\nthe noblest men. \"Art for art's sake,\" has been the motto for culture,\nwith some. And to a certain extent, that is true. It is fine to work for\nthe perfection of the work, and without any intrusion of self. But a man\nmay work so, upon a theme of little or no significance to the world's\nimprovement or welfare. He may work so, with small thoughts, small\nideals, for which nobody cares, or has any reason to care. But so can he\nnot work grandly, however finished be the result. Art is for the sake of\nsomething beyond itself. Only when it goes out into great ideals that\nmingle themselves with the widest culture and improvement of men, only\nwhen it strikes for the right, for liberty, for country, for the common\nweal, does it achieve its end.\n\nWe have had literature enough, and have it now, in which the writer\nseems hardly to go beyond himself--writing out of himself and into\nhimself--occupied with making fine sentences, without any earnest\nintent; and which readers, used to feed upon the honest bread of plain\nEnglish speech, hardly know what to make of. Very fine, these sparkling\nsentences may be, very beautiful, very apt to strike with admiration;\nbut they divert attention with surprises, or cover up thought with\ncoruscations. They are like gems that lie scattered upon the table; they\nare not wrought into any well-woven fabric; they do not move _on_ the\nsubject to any conclusion.\n\nMen may win great admiration and great fame, but not great love; though\nthey gain, perhaps, as much as they give. Only by writing out of the\nbosom of a great humanity _to_ the great humanity, can one fill the\nmeasure of good art or good culture. Even Goethe, of whom Professor\nSeeley says, that \"he found every thing interesting except the fact that\nNapoleon was trampling upon Germany\"--a fatal exception: even Goethe,\nwith all his art, his marvellous versatility and fine accomplishment,\nfailed to reach the highest place, either in the best self-culture, or\nin men's best love. _Savant_, poet, novelist, of high mark, as he was,\nhe has no such place as Newton, Wordsworth, and Walter Scott, in men's\nlove. Schiller and Richter, I believe, are more beloved in Germany, than\nGoethe.\n\nIn mere art, in perfection of style, no writers have equalled Homer and\nShakspeare. But _they_ did not say, \"Art for art's sake.\" They had no\nthought but to communicate their thought. If singular felicities appear\nin their style, little eddyings of exquisitely turned conceits, as\nespecially in Shakspeare, they made a part of, and swept on the strong\ncurrent of their ideas. They were not introduced for their own sake, or\nmerely to please the writer.\n\nIt has been said that great authors are born of great occasions. Some\nremarkable era, some turn or tide in human thought, or in human affairs,\nhave borne them on to their supreme greatness. Will not the time come,\nwhen men shall so look into the depths of the human heart, into the\ntragic or blissful experiences of all human life, that no great era\nshall be necessary to make great writers?\n\nI believe it. I believe in a perpetual human progress--progress in every\nkind, material, mental, moral, religious, divine; and I greatly desire\nto say a few words in close, if you will indulge me upon this point. For\nI found this faith in progress, on the two principles which I have been\nconsidering in this lecture. Selfhood obliges a man to take care of\nhimself. To go out of himself is the only way, in which he can\ntake care of himself--can take care, that is to say, of his own\nimprovement and happiness. In selfhood, necessary as it is, there is\nno virtue, and little joy. Outflow from it--love, generosity,\ndisinterestedness--embraces the whole sphere of our culture and welfare.\n\nCan there be any doubt upon either of these points--either the culture\nor welfare?\n\nUpon the culture, I say; upon what makes for human improvement. There is\nevil enough in the world; but what nation or age ever approved of it?\nWhat people ever praised selfishness, injustice, falsifying of speech or\ntrust? No literature ever celebrated them. No religion ever enjoined\nthem. No laws ever enacted them. Imagine a law that proposed to reward\nvillains and to punish honest men. The world would spit upon it. Imagine\na book or essay or poem or oration, that plainly set about to tell what\na beautiful and noble thing it is, to lie, to defraud, to wrong,\ncorrupt, and ruin our fellows. No man ever had the face to do such a\nthing. No; books may have taught such things, but they never taught them\nas noble things. The man never lived, that would stand up and say, \"It\nis a glorious thing to betray trust, or to ruin one's country, or to\nblaspheme God.\" Men do such things, but they don't reverence nor respect\nthemselves for doing them.\n\nThis then being settled--and it is a stupendous fact--the right\nprinciple about culture, being thus set up, high and irrepealable in the\nhuman conscience and in the sentiments of all mankind--what says the\ncommon judgment of men about the happiness or misery of following the\nright? Does it say--\"It is a blessed thing to be a bad man; it is good\nand wise to be a base or cruel man.\" Does it say--\"Happy is the miser,\nthe knave, the drunkard.\" No, it does not. There is temptation to do\nwrong; _that_ all know; there is a notion that it may promote some\ntemporary interest or pleasure; there is a disposition in many, to\nprefer some sensual gratification to the purer satisfactions of the\nhigher nature; but there is, at the same time, a deep-founded\nconviction, that misery in the long run must follow sin; that the\neverlasting law of God has so ordained it to _be_; and that only the\npure, the noble, the heroic, the good and godlike affections can ever\nmake such a nature as ours, content and happy.\n\nHere then is another stupendous principle settled. And now, I say, this\nbeing is a lover of happiness. He is not wise; he is not clear-seeing;\nhe is not good either--_i.e._, he is not fixedly and determinately good;\nhe is weak too; he is easily misled; he is often rebellious to the\nhigher laws of his nature; but--I hold to that--he is a lover of\nhappiness; and happiness, he knows, can never be found, but in obedience\nto those higher laws. He is a lover of happiness, I say; he cannot be\nworse off, without wishing to be better off; if he is sick, he wants to\nbe well; if his roof lets in the rain, he will have it repaired; if the\nmeanest implement he uses, is broken, he will have it mended. Is it not\nnatural--is it not inevitable, that this tendency should yet develop\nitself in the higher concerns of his being? Is it not in the natural\norder of things, that the higher should at length gain the ascendency\nover the lower, the stronger over the weaker, the nobler over the\nmeaner? How can it be thought--how can it _be_, in the realm of Infinite\nBeneficence and Wisdom, that meanness and vileness, sin and ruin should\nbe strong and prevail, and gain victory upon victory, and spread curse\nbeyond curse, and draw their dark trail over the bright eternity of\nages!\n\nNo, in the order of things, this cannot be. Grant that there are evils,\ndifficulties, obstacles in the way. But in the order of things,\nprinciples do not give way before temporary disturbances. Law does not\nyield to confusion. Gravitation binds the earth, notwithstanding all the\nturmoil upon its bosom. Light prevails over darkness, though cloud and\nstorm and night interrupt its course. The _moral_ turmoil upon earth's\nbosom, war and outbreak and widespread disaster, the cloud and storm and\ndarkness of human passions and vices, the bitter struggles and sorrows\nof humanity, the dark shadows of earthly strife and pain and sin, are\nyet to give place to immutable law, to all-conquering might and right,\nto everlasting day.\n\nI am as sure of it, as I am of the being of God--as I am of my own\nbeing. The principles of progress are laid in human nature. If man did\nnot care for himself, I should have no hope of him. If he could not go\nout from himself, and find therein his improvement, virtue and\nhappiness, I should have no hope of him. But these two principles yoked\ntogether, in the Heaven-ordained frame of our being, will draw on to\nvictory.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RELATION OF JESUS\n\nTO THE\n\nPRESENT AGE.\n\nBy CHARLES CARROLL EVERETT.\n\n\nThe writer to the Hebrews affirms that Jesus Christ is \"the same\nyesterday, to-day, and for ever.\" Paul exclaims to the Corinthians,\n\"Though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we\nhim no more.\" Christ was the same; yet before the generation that he\nleft upon the earth had passed away his relation to the earth had\nchanged. Thus does the work of Christ shape itself afresh to meet the\nneeds of every generation. Compare together the Christ of the first\ncentury, the Christ of the thirteenth, the Christ of the sixteenth, and\nthe Christ of the nineteenth centuries, and you would hardly think they\nall represent the same personality. Christ is always the same. His work\nis always substantially the same; but because the ages change, the\nmethod of this work changes. The same needs always exist in the heart of\nhumanity, but in different ages these needs manifest themselves in\ndifferent ways, and are to be met by different instrumentalities. And,\nfurther, it is not merely because the needs of humanity continually\nchange their aspect that the work of Christ is ever changing. No age is\na recipient alone. There is no action without reaction Each age\ncontributes something to the work of Christ. It adds new forces, new\nmethods, new machinery. Its spirit, and by this I mean its real, vital,\nenergizing spirit, becomes united with the spirit of Christ, as it is\npresent and active in the world.\n\nIn considering the relation of Christ to the present age, we have then\nto consider it under two aspects. We have to consider each as a giver,\nand each as a receiver. We may help to make this double relation clear\nby saying that Christ is present to this nineteenth century at once as a\nproblem and as a power. No questions have stirred more deeply the heart\nof the age than those which have to do with the person and the office of\nChrist. The answers to these questions shape the aspect in which he\nstands to the age, and become therefore parts and elements of the power\nby which he acts upon the world. But this statement does not exhaust the\ntwofold relation of which I speak. That which the age gives to Christ is\nnot merely its thought about him. The secular thought and life of the\nage bring their contribution, they are themselves a contribution to him.\nThey furnish one part of that complete organism of which Christ\nfurnishes the other. If the age, in any fundamental forms of its thought\nand life, seems to stand in opposition to Christ, this apparent\nopposition is only the antithesis of elements which belong together. If\nwhat we call the spirit of the age seems, in any respect, to stand in\nopposition to the spirit of Christ, this only shows the need that each\nhas of the other. The spirit of this nineteenth century needs the spirit\nof Christ, and the spirit of Christ needs the spirit of this nineteenth\ncentury. It is not then merely that the thought of the age clears away\nsomething of the obscurity and the misconception that have gathered\nabout the person and the work of Christ. If all he said and did were as\ntruly comprehended now as they could have been at the first, no less\nreal, no less important, would be the offering which this age would\nbring to him. Neither does the fact, that the work of Christ needs the\nwork, and that his spirit needs the spirit, of the century in which we\nlive, necessarily imply any imperfection in his original work, or any\nthing originally lacking in his spirit. The question as to what he had\nin reserve, as to the limit, or the lack of limit, of his insight and\ncomprehension, is one that I do not need, and do not intend here to\nraise. There is a kind of work that cannot be done all at once. There is\na fulness of spirit that cannot manifest itself all at once. It is\nsufficient to know that Christ recognized this fact as well as we can.\nHe affirmed it as clearly and as confidently as it is possible for us to\ndo. \"I have,\" he said to his disciples, \"yet many things to say unto\nyou, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit, when he, the Spirit of truth,\nis come, he shall lead you into all truth.\" All, so far as we can see,\nthat it was possible for any spirit to do at one moment, Christ did. He\ninfused into the world a spirit of love and faith and consecration, a\nprinciple of enthusiasm for humanity. He added to these the vitalizing\npower that came from his personality. This he did, and with this he was\nforced to be content. He told us the nature of his work, and foretold to\nus its history. It was to be as a little leaven which a woman hideth in\na measure of meal till the whole is leavened. He hid in the world the\nleaven of his truth. That was all that he could do. It is for us to\nwitness, and to contribute to, the completion of his work.\n\nIn considering the theme before us, I shall speak, first, of the\nexternal history of Christ, next of his teaching, and finally of his\npersonality, in their relation to the present age.\n\nIn considering the relation of Christ to the present age, we are met,\nthen, first by the most external form of this relation. The external\nhistory of Christ, the very framework of many of his highest and purest\nteachings, contains elements that are utterly opposed to the habits of\nthought which are most peculiar to the present century. I refer to\nwhatever in the history of Christ implies the exercise of any miraculous\npower by him.\n\nThe idea of a miracle is opposed to the fundamental axioms of the\npopular thought of the present. The writers who best represent this\nthought do not hold it necessary to disprove the fact of miracles. They\nsimply affirm, with Strauss, that the time is past when a miracle can be\nbelieved. On the other hand, the miraculous is inextricably intertwined\nwith the history of Christ. We find miracles recognized, not merely in\nrecords the genuineness of which has, with or without reason, been\nsuspected. In Epistles of Paul, the genuineness of which no critic of\nrepute has ever dreamed of assailing, the miraculous element is\nrecognized as distinctly as in the Gospels. We have at least the\ntestimony of Paul--one of the grandest souls that ever lived, a man whom\nwe know and honor as we know and honor few--that he believed himself to\nhave wrought miracles, and that he believed the other apostles had done\nand were in the habit of doing the same. And we further have his\ntestimony, with that of others indorsed by him, in regard to the most\nimportant of the miracles of Jesus; namely, the manifestation by Jesus\nof himself to his disciples after his death.\n\nHere is a collision between the form of the external manifestation of\nChrist and the spirit of the age. The age itself has given such\nprominence to this that we cannot overlook it. The idea of miracle is so\nforeign to the spirit of the age that it has a fascination for it. It\nhas less importance than any thing else in the history of Jesus, and yet\nnothing has more occupied the thoughts of the thinkers of the present\ngeneration.\n\nFor the reasons already stated, we must concede a certain degree of\nright to both sides of the great controversy. If we cannot eliminate the\nmiraculous from the history of Jesus, neither can we, nor would we if we\ncould, eliminate from the spirit of the age that element which finds it\nhard to accept a miracle. The very antagonism between the two, the right\nwhich each maintains being granted, shows the need that each has of the\nother. Each has a contribution for the other which could be received\nfrom no other source.\n\nIn the first place, the absolute incredulity with which the most\nthorough representatives of the thought of the time receive any story of\nthe miraculous shows that now, for the first time, a miracle is seen to\nbe in the truest sense of the word a miracle. To the child or the savage\na miracle is hardly possible. Either every thing is a miracle or nothing\nis. It is only as the absoluteness of law is recognized that a miracle,\nwhich is in appearance a violation of this law, begins to produce its\nfull impression. The present age has placed behind miracle a mighty\nbackground of law. From out this does miracle first stand forth in its\ntrue nature, as something demanding yet defying credence. Those who\nblame the spirit of the age for lack of faith in this direction should\nat least give it credit for this immense contribution to the idea of\nmiracle, by which, for the first time, a miracle stands forth absolutely\nin its true nature.\n\nNot only does the spirit of the age thus furnish to miracles the\nbackground that they need: it furnishes to them also a content. The\nthought of law does not stop with the background of laws of which I\nspoke. Laws may be finite: law is infinite. The miracle sets at defiance\nthe great background of recognized laws; but itself can be only the\nmanifestation of some higher, grander, more comprehensive law. Thus does\na miracle more truly than ever before come as a real revelation. For the\nfirst time it has its full and logical meaning. It was before expected\nto prove something which from the nature of the case it could not prove.\nNo miracle, however stupendous, can prove the truth of a principle in\nmorals. It can show, indeed, some superiority, in some respect, in him\nwho works the miracle; but this superiority may not be of a nature to\ndemand implicit confidence towards the person in all respects. It may be\nlike the superiority of the European over the ignorant savage. The\nmissionary may win the trust of the simple barbarian by sending a\nmessage written upon a chip; but the sailor, bringing the seeds of all\nthe vices of civilization, can \"make the chip speak\" as well as the\nmissionary. But when the miracle testifies of the comprehensive law\nwhich it manifests, then first does it have a meaning which cannot be\nwrested out of it. Nay, then first does it become really sublime.\nBefore, it was a single meteor flashing in short-lived brightness across\nthe sky. Now, it is the first manifestation of a vast system of worlds\nof which we had not dreamed. Such is the contribution which the spirit\nof the age, through the very antagonism of which I spoke, makes to the\nmiracles which constitute so much of the external form in which Christ\nmeets it.\n\nOn the other hand, miracle brings a no less important contribution to\nthe spirit of the age. This spirit tends, not only to look upon law as\nabsolute, but to look upon the system of laws which it has discovered as\nfinal. These laws tend continually to become narrow and hard. They tend\nto become merely a system of physical forces. There is danger that the\nspirit may become shut up within these physical laws as in a\nprison-house. The miracle demonstrates to the senses that these physical\nlaws are not absolute, even in their own realm; that these physical\nforces are encompassed and interpenetrated by spiritual forces; that\nmatter is at the last subordinate to spirit. It may not reveal the\nnature of these spiritual forces; but it does reveal their presence. All\ndo not need this demonstration. The same truth may be reached in other\nways. The laws of thought reveal it. The spiritual consciousness may be\nsufficient unto itself. Christ himself regarded his miracles as of\ncomparatively small account. He wrought them because he was moved to use\nwhatever power he had to bless mankind. If he healed the sick, it was\nbecause he loved to heal them. He sympathized with sorrow and suffering,\nand, so far as he could, would remove their cause. But the miracles\ncarry, as we have seen, their own revelation with them; and they have\ntheir place, however lowly, in regard even to the spiritual\nconsciousness. The albatross, we are told, with all its magnificent\nsweep of wing, cannot lift itself from the flat surface of the deck on\nwhich it may be lying. Just because its wings are so strong and large,\nit needs to be lifted a little, that they may have space to move, that\nthey may have freedom to smite the air. When this freedom has been given\nit, then it mounts upward, sustained by its own inherent strength. So is\nit, sometimes, with the spirit. It has strength of its own. It has a\nself-sustaining power. But it sometimes needs to be lifted a little way\nabove the dead level of its daily life, above the plane of physical\nrelations, before its wings find strength and freedom to beat the air.\nThen, leaving its temporary support behind it, it mounts in glad flight\nheavenward. Such help many have found, and may yet find, in the miracles\nof Jesus. The miracle may lift the level surface of life as if into a\nwave, from the crest of which the spirit may start upon its flight.\n\nFrom the external manifestation of the history of Christ, and the\nexternal relations in which through this he stands to the present age,\nwe pass to the inner power of this life. Within these external\nmanifestations we find his teachings. We have, then, next to consider\nthe relation in which Christ stands to the present age as a teacher. We\nshall find here the same twofold relation which we have found before;\nand the external may thus stand as a type and illustration of the\ninternal. We will first consider, under this aspect, the basis and form\nof the teaching of Christ, and next its substance.\n\nThe spirit of the age is truth-seeking. We speak often of the eagerness\nfor wealth that marks the age. I think that when, from the distant\nfuture, men shall look back upon this period of the world's history, the\nsearch for wealth will not be seen to fill the place that to us it seems\nto occupy. The age will be seen to be animated by a nobler quest than\nthis. The search for truth will be seen to be the quest by which it is\nmarked most really. We speak of the corruption of the age, of the\ntrickeries of trade, of the unscrupulousness of speculation, of the\npretence and display of fashion, of the venality of politics. All this\nis true. These things deserve the denunciation of the moralist and the\npreacher. But behind all this is the life which truly marks the age. It\nis the life of patient, earnest, honest search for truth. I believe that\nnever and nowhere has there been manifested, to so great extent, such\nconscientious and self-forgetful love of truth for its own sake as may\nbe found in the scientific investigations of the present day. Such\naccuracy of research, such microscopic delicacy of measurement, such\npatient and unprejudiced examination, I believe to be unequalled in the\nhistory of man. This proves that, in spite of the frauds and falseness\nof which I spoke, the age is really sound at heart. Theologians\nsometimes speak of the flippancy and conceit of the science of the day.\nThe terms would be more true applied in the opposite direction. Theology\nis more open to such charges than science. A love of truth that would\nfling away even the highest glory of the earth and the hope of heaven,\nif so be truth may stand pure and perfect, has something sublime about\nit. Well might the theologian take a lesson from the man of science in\nregard to this consecration to truth. For theology, with its\npresumption, its prejudice, its pretence, its glossing over of\ndifficulties, its leaning upon authority which it feels at heart is not\nauthority, its saying what it does not exactly believe, that it may not\ncontradict those who perhaps do not believe exactly what they say, may\nwell stand ashamed in the presence of the science of the day that has\nleft all to follow truth. Theology should give to science not\ntolerance, not patronage, but reverence. While it utters fearlessly the\ntruth that is given it to speak, it should in its turn seat itself as a\nlearner at the feet of science, and seek not only to gather the facts\nwhich it has to teach, but to catch something of its spirit, the spirit\nthat loves truth, and that will suffer nothing to take the place of\nthis.\n\nBut Christ was not a truth-seeker. It does not appear that he ever\ndoubted or questioned. Pilate asked the question, What is truth? It does\nnot appear that Jesus ever did. Jesus came not to seek the truth, but to\nannounce it. \"To this end,\" he cried, \"was I born, and for this cause\ncame I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth.\" He\ncame to bear witness unto the truth, but it was truth that came to him\nwithout his seeking. Neither does it appear that Christ loved truth\nabove all things. To the Jesuit there is something better than truth,\nand to this he will sacrifice truth itself. I assert nothing like this\nin regard to Christ. Truth was to him fundamental and essential. He\nwould not accept or tolerate what was false. But still to know was not\nthe great object of his life. There was something better to him than\ntruth; namely, life. He would rather be than know. At his touch truth\nsprang into life. If he came to bear witness to the truth, this was only\na step in his grander work, the work which he proclaimed at the very\nbeginning of his mission, when he cried, \"I am come that they might have\nlife, and that they might have it more abundantly.\" And, further, Christ\ndid not merely teach life through truth: he taught truth through life.\n\"If any man,\" he said, \"will do his will, he shall know of the\ndoctrine.\" And John was full of the spirit of his Master when he cried,\n\"The life is the light of men.\"\n\nWe see more clearly the antithesis between Christ as a teacher on the\none side, and the present age on the other, in this fact: viz., that\nChrist speaks with authority to an age which rejects authority. The cry\nof the age, in the world of the intellect as well as in that of\npolitics, is for liberty. But to this age, as to every age, Christ comes\nas a master. \"My yoke,\" he says, \"is easy;\" but it is a yoke none the\nless.\n\nIf the relation of Christ to his truth is so different from that of the\nspirit of the age to its truth, it must follow that the two forms of\ntruth rest on different bases. The faculties by which the age seeks\ntruth must be different from those through which the truth came unsought\nto Jesus. This age seeks truth by the discriminating and investigating\npower of the understanding. Truth came to Jesus through the intuitions\nof the soul. In him the moral and spiritual faculties were full of\nstrength. He lived as naturally in the world of spiritual realities as\nother men live in the world of physical realities. As we need only open\nour eyes and see, so his spirit had only to open its eyes and it saw. As\nthe voices of the outward world come to us without our listening for\nthem, so the voice of God came to him whether he would or no. And this\nwas the ground of the authority with which he spoke. Whoever speaks from\nthe moral and spiritual consciousness to the moral and spiritual\nconsciousness may and must speak with authority. We may illustrate this\nby an extreme case. When a man is lurking for the commission of some\ncrime, or after he has committed it, he feels the mastery of all\ninnocent things. The rustle of a leaf may excite his dread. To a voice\ndenouncing his crime, or crime like his, he listens as to the voice of\nGod. This recognition of the mastery of a higher degree of life after\nits own kind is felt at every stage of moral and spiritual development.\nIf the soul be comparatively guilty, it recognizes this mastery with\ndread. If it be comparatively innocent, it recognizes it with joy. Such\nwas the authority with which Jesus spoke. Though he spoke with\nauthority, what he said did not rest on this authority. It was the\nauthority with which the awakened calls to the sleeper, bidding him\nawake, for the world is bright with the morning. The voice penetrates to\nthe obscured consciousness of the sleeper. He stirs himself, he opens\nhis eyes, and rejoices for himself in the morning brightness. So Christ\ncalled to a sleeping world. Nay, he called to those who were dead in\ntrespasses and sin, and they that were dead heard the voice of the Son\nof Man and lived.\n\nIf the truth taught by Jesus and the truth that is sought by the present\nage rest on such different bases, they must be, we should suppose, in\nsome respects different each from the other. But, if each be truth, they\nmust be the complements each of the other. And, if they are the\ncomplements each of the other, they must need one another. Each must be\nimperfect without the other. Each must find a certain confirmation and\nsupport from the other, and each must complete for the other the circle\nof truth. We are thus led to look at some points in the teaching of\nChrist, and to see how these complete and are completed by the truth\nwhich the present age seeks and finds.\n\nIn the first place, Christ teaches us of the loving providence of God.\nHe awakens in our hearts all childlike instincts of trust and\nconfidence. He tells us that God is our father, that his love watches\nover all his children, that it follows the prodigal in his wandering\nand greets him on his return, that even a sparrow does not fall to the\nearth without it. This teaching is sufficient for the spiritual\nnecessities of our nature. The spirit that has adopted these principles\ninto itself will live a strong and blessed life. They have been the\ninspiration of the centuries ever since Christ uttered them. They\ncontain all that could be told of God in the age when Jesus lived. But\nthey do not exhaust the truth of God. They leave space for\nmisconception. Love may be universal, and yet be not without caprice.\nProvidence may watch over all, and yet in every case be only a special\nprovidence. God may watch over every individual of the race, but over\neach merely as an individual. If there may be the caprices of love, then\nit is not a long step to the possibility of caprices which spring from\nthe lack of love. Love may alternate with hate. If each individual be\ndealt with singly, as though he existed by himself, the step is not a\nlong one to the thought of discrimination between individuals. The\ncaprices of love may become favoritism, and the special favor shown to\none implies the neglect of another. All these things are foreign from\nthe spirit and the teaching of Christ. They contradict the fundamental\nprinciples of his teaching. And yet, men's habits of thought being such\nas they were, the teaching of Christ could not be absolutely fortified\nagainst them. He told men that the love of God was like the sunshine\nthat visits all alike, but the words passed through their ears unheeded.\nThus Christianity all along has been corrupted by misrepresentations of\nits truth in which the thought of love had suggested caprice, and the\nthought of special love and special providence had suggested the thought\nof favoritism, and favoritism had suggested discrimination and neglect.\nAll men were seen to stand in the presence of God as individuals, which\nis true; and merely as individuals, which is false.\n\nThe truth that God is love needs to be supplemented by another truth;\nnamely this, that God is Law. The great truth of the absoluteness of law\ncannot be taught in a single lesson. No man can tell it to another. It\nmust be demonstrated to be believed. It must be shown in its myriad and\nunvarying applications to all forms of being before it can be felt as a\nreality. One must see for one's self the grand march of the order of the\nuniverse, the unfailing sequence of cause and effect, the mathematical\nexactness of the correlation of all the forces of the world, before one\ncan have a sense of the truth which lies at the basis and forms the\nculmination of scientific thought to-day. This truth has not been\nreached suddenly. The ages have been groping after it. This age has\nreached, by slow and patient thought, a comprehension of this truth\nwhich is its inspiration. The ages to come will only add to it new\nillustrations as they follow its mighty sweep. This truth is what seems\nat times to put this age into antagonism with the spirit of Christ. It\nis really the offering which the thought of the age brings to Christ.\nThe teaching of Christ needs, as we have seen, this truth as its\ncomplement. The antithesis between the two shows the intimate\nrelationship between them. When we bring the two together in one\nthought, we have the most sublime conception that ever dawned upon the\nmind of man. The truth of Christ finds a body: the truth of the age\nfinds a soul. On the one side, all possibility of caprice is driven from\nour thought of God. The love of God, as strong and tender as the lips\nof Jesus could describe it, is seen to be as regular and as calm as the\nmovements of the heavens. This truth only adds to the strength and the\nclearness of our thought of the love of God. We see demonstrated before\nus how his care pursues all things, how not a sparrow falls to the earth\nunfollowed by this watchful providence, how every grain of dust that\nfloats in the summer sun has its place and work in the great whole, not\na single mote forgotten. We learn in what direction to look for the\naction and succor of this providence. We do not look for it to come to\nus in weakness, but in strength. We see that this perfect order is the\ntruest providence, that the care of each is most perfect that recognizes\neach in its relations to all the rest. So soon as we recognize the\ndivinity of law and the love that is enshrined in it, we feel the\nomnipresent might of this divinity, the omnipotence of this love. The\nrestlessness and passion of our hearts are stilled. Trust in God takes\non the peace and the calmness of the heavens. Such is the offering which\nthe age brings to Christ. It brings a body in which his spirit may\nincarnate itself afresh.\n\nThe result of the union of the thought of the age with the thought of\nChrist may be seen in all the relations in which the soul stands to God.\nChrist bade his followers preach his gospel to every creature. The age\nhas taught us the necessity of educating and civilizing the barbarian,\nif we would christianize him. Christ taught us to love the sinner while\nhating sin. This has seemed to some paradoxical; but the age has removed\nsome of the difficulty by showing how much of what we call character is\nthe result of inherited tendencies and outward circumstances. Jesus\ntaught the doctrine of immortality. Men have tended to look upon the\nfuture life as something standing over against the present. The age\nteaches us that such a break in life is impossible, that if there be an\nimmortality it must lie hidden in the present. It teaches, too, that the\njudgments of God, if there be a God, are never arbitrary. He does not\nhold blessing in one hand and cursing in another, and give each, by an\noutward bestowal, as he may see that it is deserved. Men's acts drag\ntheir consequences after them. Thus the old Scripture phrases are just\ncoming to their meaning. It is not an angry God that pursues the sinner:\nit is his own sin that has found him out. Men do reap the fruit of their\nown sowing. There is no scientific truth of the day that stands in any\nstronger antagonism to the truth of Christ than is implied in such\nantitheses as have been referred to. Even the theories of development,\nso rife at present, do not stand in the way of Christ. Christ looks not\ndownward but upward, not backward but forward. Such theories, if\nestablished, would only show the progressive power of spirit, the\nomnipotence of life.\n\nBut if the thought of Jesus needs that of the present age, still more\ndoes the thought of the age need that of Jesus. If the spirit needs a\nbody, still more does the body need a spirit. The laws, the forces on\nwhich the thought of the age dwells, until this divineness is added to\nthem are hard and cold. The body, which could carry on all the functions\nof its life, yet without life, would be a machine, perfect indeed and\nwonderful, but a machine none the less. The thought of the age, taken by\nitself, uninspired by Christian truth, tends to drag down the soul, to\nimprison it in mere mechanism, to take from it its divine inspiration;\nand while we need the thought of the present age to illustrate to us the\nmethods of God's dealings with the soul, none the less does the thought\nof the age need the knowledge that there is a soul. Among all the forces\nof the universe, the power of the soul, the culmination of them all, is\napt to be lost sight of. The thought of the age tends to look upon\nthings from without, and to lose that which is their essence. It needs\nthe voice that shall awaken its own inner life, and thus bring it to a\nconsciousness of the life that lies at the heart of all things.\n\nThus we see how the thought of Christ and the thought of the age need\nand complement each other. The thought of Christ is spiritual, the\nthought of the age tends to become material. In this world we are\nneither wholly spiritual nor wholly material. And we must bear in mind\nthat the two elements should not exist over against one another in our\nthought. We must not hold the two conceptions, however opposite they may\nappear, as two. In life the spirit and the body do not exist as two but\nas one. As soon as they exist as two, there is death. So must the truth\nof Jesus and the truth of this present age be blended in one thought. We\nmust not say love and law, but love in law. We must not see the divine\npower setting at work forces that by their natural operation shall\nreward or punish the spirit. We must see the divine power working in and\nthrough these forces. Then, as science makes us feel that we are\nencompassed by law, the words will not need translating to us; for we\nshall feel that we are encompassed by God.\n\nThe relation which we have found to exist between the intellectual\nteaching of Christ and the thought of the age is no less marked between\nthe moral teaching of Christ and the life of the age. The moral teaching\nof Christ is absolutely true. It is as true as his thought of God; yet\nlike that it needs its complemental truth. Further, the moral teaching\nof Christ needs instrumentalities. Love, however strong, cannot work\nwithout means. The heart needs the hands and the feet.\n\nIn both of these respects the age brings its offering to Christ. Christ\nteaches love and self-sacrifice. He bids us do for others as we would\nhave them do for us. He bids us give to him that asks, and lend to him\nthat would borrow. These principles are the very life of society. They\nare the very truth of God. But yet these principles carried out, without\nexplanation and qualification, would produce harm as well as good. The\nchurch of every age, in striving to carry out these precepts, has done\nmuch good; but it has done much harm also. It has done good by bringing\nsuccor to the lives that needed it. It has done immeasurable good by\nkeeping alive on the earth the spirit of Christian love. Men have been\nblest by the power of the spirit, even more than by its specific acts of\nmercy. But, while it has relieved the poor, it has too often tended to\nperpetuate poverty. Indiscriminate alms-giving, mere alms-giving, is the\nvery mother of pauperism. We see in some Catholic countries how the\nalms-giving which the church has taught in the very words of Christ has\ndegraded whole populations, has taken from manhood its real dignity and\nstrength. We need, then, not only the principle of love, but also a\nknowledge of all social laws. The science of political economy must be\nunderstood; but this, like physical science, cannot be taught in a day.\nAges must teach the lesson. The present age has only half learned it.\nBut it has learned enough to bring a magnificent contribution to Christ.\nChrist bids us help men: the age, in its poor blundering way, is just\nbeginning to tell us how to help them. It teaches that the best way to\nhelp the poor is to strike at the root of poverty. No less does the age\nfurnish means for carrying out the principles of Jesus. It brings the\nends of the earth together. Christ bids us love our neighbor. This age\nhas made those from whom the sea parts us our neighbors. There is\nfamine, or some more sudden calamity, on the other side of our\ncontinent, or in a foreign land. Christ bids us help those who need. How\nshall we carry sudden help unless we hear at once the story? How shall\nwe send prompt help if there be no strong and swift messenger waiting at\nour door? But now the lightning tells the story the moment in which\nthere is a story to be told, and the unwearied steam bears our gifts as\nsoon as they can be gathered. The commands of Jesus are absolute. The\npower of the age to fulfil these commands is approaching absoluteness.\nThus does the age add to the teaching of Christ the completeness that it\nneeds.\n\nBut does not the age in turn need this teaching? Materialism and\nmechanism in thought are bad enough: they are worse in life. The life of\nthe age has a tendency to materialism and mechanism. The science of\npolitical economy tends to become a hard system of rules, in which the\nspontaneous sympathy of the helper and the individuality of the helped\nare lost together. The eagerness of the world after material prosperity\ntends to a practical absorption in these ends. Thus we have the greed,\nthe excitement, the madness, the display, the corruption that to so\ngreat an extent characterize the age. We have seen that there is a\ndeeper life beneath this superficial one; but these evils, however\nsuperficial, need prompt and constant care lest they eat into the very\nheart. The body needs the spirit, or it will sink into decay.\n\nI have spoken of the two elements which we are considering as if they\nstood simply over against one another. This is in some respects true.\nThe thought and life of the age are, indeed, largely indebted to the\nstimulus of Christianity; but they are not, like the painting and\narchitecture of the Middle Ages, the direct outgrowth of it. The science\nof the present day is self-developed and self-sustained. The machinery\nof the world has been invented for the world's uses. Its political\neconomy has been thought out to facilitate its own ends.\n\nBut though the two elements, to some extent, stand over against one\nanother, yet each, by its natural development, is approaching the other,\nand each is becoming penetrated by the other. On the one side, religion\nis catching the spirit of the age, and is approaching the clearness and\naccuracy of scientific thought. On the other side, science is becoming\nconscious of truth which is unattainable by its methods, and which is to\nit therefore the unknowable. Already does Herbert Spencer, who\nrepresents the foremost thought of the time, feel the awe of this\nmystery, and see gleaming through it something of the presence of the\ninfinite love. The life of the age, also, by bringing men near to one\nanother, tends to produce the sense of human brotherhood. Its vast\nbusiness enterprise, in some of its aspects, does more for the cause of\nhumanity than many a professed charity. Further, the age is, to some\nextent at least, directly inspired by Christianity. Its zeal for\nhumanity, its sympathy with the oppressed and suffering everywhere, its\ngigantic and unparalleled charities, show it to be more truly Christian\nthan any age that has preceded it.\n\nIf however, in spite of all this, we are sometimes tempted to doubt\nwhether the power of the truth which Christ represents is to win the\nmastery, or whether it is destined to be lost in the great struggle, we\nmust remember that its authority is that of elements that are\nfundamental in human nature. The spiritual instincts may be repressed:\nthey cannot be exterminated. As in every little creek and inlet along\nthe shore the water answers to the call of the ocean, and feels the\nmight of the outgoing and the incoming tide, so in human life deep\nanswers unto deep.\n\nWe must remember, too, that Christ is not a mere teacher. His power is\nnot alone that of the truth he utters. It is no mere accident of history\nthat the higher truth and life which we have been considering confront\nthe age as Christian truth and life. They receive a power from their\nunion with Christ which they could not have received, even had the\nthought of men attained to them, without this. We have looked at the\nexternal form of his life and at his teaching in their relation to the\nage. There is yet another step to take. There is still an inner reality\nto be unveiled. Behind the power of his teaching is the power of his\npersonality. In this is found the climax of the antithesis in which he\nstands to the present. The tendency of the present age is, consciously\nor unconsciously, to disown personality. The laws which make the\nsubstance of its thought, the mechanism that makes the framework of its\nlife, both tend to assert themselves against the power of a free\npersonality. We may illustrate this by the modern method of warfare. In\nancient times the victory depended on the strength of the individual arm\nand the courage of the individual heart. Now it depends more upon the\ndrill of the army and the clear head of the general.\n\nThis tendency of the thought of the age is not based on error. It brings\nto our thought of personality the correction that it needs. The tendency\nof the past has been to look upon personality as existing by and for\nitself. It has recognized no limits to the power of freedom. Each\nindividual stood by and for himself in the universe. Now we see a common\nelement in all lives. All lives are entwined together. We see limits\nwhich freedom cannot pass. We understand something of the limits of each\nindividual. We understand something of the laws of descent and of the\npower of education. Even the personality of Jesus does not stand by\nitself as it seemed to once. We see in him the power of the common\nnature. We see in him the effect of forces which had been in operation\nsince the world was. He was no stranger upon the earth. He was the Son\nof God, but he was no less the Son of man. He was the flowering of a\nnation's history, the flowering of humanity. The flower is drawn forth\nby the sun, but it is drawn out from the plant. Even the sun can kindle\nthe flame of no rose upon the bramble's stalk. While, however, the age\nteaches us what is the background out from which the power of\npersonality stands forth, and what are the elements that are fused\ntogether in it, personality itself remains too much unrecognized. But, I\nrepeat, the integrity of human nature can never be violated; and\npersonality is the culmination of human nature. The power of a modern\narmy, we have seen, depends largely on its drill; yet even here the\nimpetuous courage of a leader may infuse a life into this vast machine\nthat shall decide the victory. Mere signals, it is found, upon a ship\nwill not answer the purpose of communication between the captain and the\nmen. In times of peril, in the midst of the fury of the storm, the\nsailor needs the inspiration of the captain's voice, ringing with a\nforce that is mightier than the tempest; namely, the force of human will\nand courage. No matter how mechanical the age may become, no matter how\nthe idea of freedom may be eliminated from its thought, the great heart\nof humanity beats still in its bosom, and the voice of a strong, free\npersonality will sooner or later arouse it to an answering\nconsciousness. The very bands which it sets about personality will make\nits power more strongly felt when it is perceived. Its very knowledge of\nthe elements that are united in it will make it feel more really the\nmight of the force which can fuse these into one burning point.\n\nPersonality involves three elements. The first is freedom; the second, a\npurpose freely chosen; the third, devotion to this purpose. There is no\nslavery like sin. Absolute freedom, and thus absolute personality, can\nbe found only in a nature wholly pure and unselfish. Christ was thus\nfree. His purpose was the vastest that any human soul has grasped; and\nhe gave himself to it with all the power of his nature. Thus Christ\npossessed the most intense personality ever felt upon the earth. His\nteaching came forth glowing with its fire. We feel to-day the effect\nwhich his personality produced upon those who came into direct contact\nwith it. This influence has propagated itself from age to age. The\nChurch grew out of it, and its influence is felt to-day far beyond the\nlimits of the Church. Besides this indirect power of the personality of\nJesus, we may feel its force directly, as we bring ourselves into\npersonal relation with him. It has not lost its original might. It still\ntends to reproduce itself in the present.\n\nThe form in which truth first utters itself has a power which no\nsubsequent repetition can equal. There is a kind of work that can be\ndone only once. The first discoverer or announcer of any truth stands in\na relation to it which no other can ever fill. Many navigators have\ncrossed the sea, but there is only one Columbus. Many astronomers have\nsearched the heavens, but there has been no second Newton. This fact is\nmost noticeable in regard to truths that represent not merely the\nintellect, but the whole moral and spiritual nature of him who first\nuttered them in their fulness. There is a fact in science strange,\napparently illogical, but yet unquestionable. It is this: The power of\nheat-bearing rays to pass through any resisting medium depends not upon\nthe temperature of the rays, but upon that of the body from which they\ncome. The heat-bearing rays of the sun that approach the earth hardly\ndiffer in temperature from the rays that are reflected from it; but the\nformer pass almost unimpeded through the atmosphere by which the latter\nare to a great extent imprisoned. The rays reach the earth without\ndifficulty, but are entrapped by the principle referred to, and remain\nto bless the world. The first have this power to pass through the\natmosphere because they come direct from the burning body of the sun.\nThe reflected rays have lost this power, because they proceed from the\ncolder earth. This law is as true in the intellectual and spiritual as\nit is in the physical world. The power of moral and spiritual truths to\npenetrate to the hearts of men has this strange dependence upon the\nmoral and spiritual power of him who utters them. The very spontaneity\nof this utterance is a revelation of this power. It is because the truth\nthat Jesus uttered came forth from his glowing heart of love, it is\nbecause it sprang fresh and spontaneous from the intensity of his\nspiritual life, that it has such power to-day to touch the hearts of\nmen. As the sun's rays preserve their penetrating force through all the\ninterplanetary spaces, so the teachings of Christ have preserved it\nthrough all the reaches of history. No subsequent repetition of these\ntruths can ever have quite the power that their first complete utterance\nstill retains. And the power that they exercise is largely in this, that\nthey excite in the hearts of men a spiritual life akin to that from\nwhich they originally sprang. Scientific truths are taught by\ndemonstration. Spiritual truths are taught chiefly by stimulating the\nspiritual life. When we live merely in the contemplation of laws, in the\nstudy of external relations, our intellect is stimulated, but our moral\nand spiritual nature may be comparatively dormant. Our life is\nstimulated as we are brought into living relationship with the universe.\nAs our inner nature is thus stimulated, as it rounds itself into\ncompleteness, the moral and spiritual consciousness is awakened. This is\nthe reason why it so often happens that spiritual truths are so real in\nmoments of sorrow. In its sorrow the soul lives wholly in love, and it\nreceives the enlightenment of love. Our nation had almost forgotten God;\nbut in those terrible years of war, when every soul was full of life and\nearnestness, the earth and the heavens were full of God. Our nation's\nhistory became transparent to us, as the history of the Hebrews was\ntransparent to them, and we saw God's providence in it all. Theology has\nwrestled vainly with science. In such a struggle it will always be the\nloser. Christian theology can never conquer science. Christian life must\nabsorb science into itself.\n\nThe truths that Jesus uttered, as they have been absorbed into the\ncommon thought of men, or as they are received directly from the record\nof his life, have a mighty power to purify the thought and elevate the\nhearts of men. But I think that the greatest power of Christ to-day is\nthat of imparting his life to the men and women who are now living in\nthe world. The power of the Church will depend upon its power to receive\nthis life and to impart it. It is well to have a true theology; but the\nchurch that has the most of the life of Christ will accomplish the most\nfor men. It brings to this truth-seeking and law-investigating age the\npure personality which it needs. And it will at last possess the truest\ntheology, for now and evermore it is the life that is the light of men.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MYTHICAL ELEMENT\n\nIN THE\n\nNEW TESTAMENT.\n\nBy FREDERIC HENRY HEDGE.\n\n    \"[Greek: Philosoph\u00f4teron kai spoudaioteron poi\u00easis historias estin.]\"\n\n                                                   Aristotle.\n\n\nWhen Dr. Strauss, thirty-five years ago, in his \"Life of Jesus,\"\nadvanced and applied to the narrative of the New Testament a theory of\ninterpretation, in principle the same with that which a Christian Father\nof the third century had employed in his treatment of the Old, the\ntheological world was profoundly shocked by what seemed to be the last\nimpiety of criticism. A hundred champions rushed with drawn pen to the\nrescue of the old interpretation of the text. The truth of Christianity\nwas supposed to be assailed; the belief in Christianity as divine\nrevelation was felt to be imperilled by a theory which substituted\nmythical figment for historic fact. That no such harm was intended, or\nwas likely to ensue from his labors, the author himself assures us in\nthe preface to that extraordinary work. \"The inner kernel of Christian\nfaith,\" he declares, \"is entirely independent of all such criticism.\nChrist's supernatural birth, his miracles, his resurrection and\nascension, remain eternal truths, however their reality as facts of\nhistory may be called in question.\"\n\nIn this declaration I find a fitting text for the following discourse.\n\nHow far does the cause of Christianity depend on the facts, or alleged\nfacts, of the Gospel narrative? Or, to state the question in other\nwords, Is the truth of Christianity identical and conterminous with the\nliteral truth of its record?\n\nIt is obvious at the start that a certain amount of historic truth must\nbe assumed as implied in the very existence of any religion which dates\nfrom a personal founder whose thought it professes to embody, and whose\nname it bears. Christianity purports to be founded on the ministry of a\nJewish teacher, entitled by his followers \"the Christ.\" We have the\ntestimony of a nearly contemporary Latin historian to the fact that an\nindividual so named was the leader of a numerous body of religionists,\nand was put to death by command of Pontius Pilate, in the reign of\nTiberius. But, without this confirmation, the very existence of the\nChristian Church compels us to accept as historic facts, the ministry of\nJesus, the strong impression of his word and character, his purity of\nmanners and moral greatness, his life of beneficent action, his martyr\ndeath, and his manifestation to his disciples after death, however that\nmanifestation be conceived, whether as subjective experience or as\nobjective reality. So much, beyond all reasonable question, must stand\nas history, vouched by documentary evidence, and by the existence, in\nthe first century, of a church universally diffused, which affirmed\nthese facts as the ground of its being, and in the strength of them\novercame the world.\n\nBut, observe, it is Christianity that assures the truth of these facts,\nand not the facts that prove Christianity. To base the truth of\nChristianity on the credibility, in every particular, of the Gospel\nrecord; to measure the claims of the religion by the strict historic\nverity of all the narrative of the New Testament, is to prejudice the\nChristian cause in the judgment of competent critics. It is to challenge\nthe cavil and counter-demonstration of unbelief.\n\nChristianity assures the truth of certain facts; but by no means of all\nthe facts affirmed by the writers of the New Testament. Faith in\nChristianity as divine dispensation does not imply, and must not be held\nto the belief, as veritable history, of all that is recorded in the\nGospel. Not the historic sense, but the spiritual import; not the facts,\nbut the ideas of the Gospel, are the genuine topics of faith.\n\nChristianity, like every other religion, has its mythology,--a mythology\nso intertwined with the veritable facts of its early history, so braided\nand welded with its first beginnings, that history and myth are not\nalways distinguishable the one from the other. Every historic religion,\nthat has won for itself a conspicuous place in the world's history, has\nevolved from a core of fact a nimbus of legendary matter which criticism\ncannot always separate, and which the popular faith does not seek to\nseparate, from the solid parts of the system. And in one view the\nlegends or myths which gather around the initial stage of any religion\nare as true as the vouched and substantial facts of its record: they are\na product of the same spirit working, in the one case, in the acts and\nexperiences; in the other, in the visions, the ideas, the literary\nactivity of the faithful. It is one and the same motive that inspires\nboth the writer and the doer.\n\nWhen I speak of historic religions, I mean such as trace their origin\nto some historic personage, and bear the impress of his idea, in\ncontradistinction to those which have sprung from unknown sources, the\nwild growths of nature-worship as found in ancient Egypt, in the Indian\nand Scandinavian peninsulas, and in Greece.\n\nNo distinction in religion is so fundamental as that between the wild\nreligions and those which have sprung from the word of a human sower\ngoing forth to sow; the religions of sense and those of reflection, the\n\"natural\" and the \"revealed.\" The prime characteristic of the former is\npolytheism; that of the latter, monotheism. Mosaism, Mohammedism,\nBuddhism,--so far as it knows any God,--even Parsism, is monotheistic in\nas much as its dualism is resolvable into the final triumph and\nsupremacy of the good. No founder of a religion ever taught a plurality\nof gods.\n\nAnother characteristic of the wild religions is their transitoriness.\nThe Egyptian, the Greco-Roman, the Scandinavian, perished long ago.\nBramanism, the last survivor of the ancient polytheisms, is fast melting\nbeneath the advancing heats of Islam and the Brahmo Somaj. The\n\"revealed\" religions on the contrary are permanent. No religion of\nhistoric origin, so far as I know, has ever died out. Judaism, the\neldest of them, still flourishes: never since the destruction of\nJerusalem has it flourished with a greener leaf than now. Mohammedism is\npushing its conquests faster than Christianity in the East, Parsism is\nstill strong in Bengal, Buddhism in one or another form calls a third\npart of the population of the globe its own.\n\nAll religions have their mythologies, but with this distinction:\npolytheism is mythical in principle as well as form, in soul as well as\nbody, and mythical throughout. Its whole being is myth. Whatever of\nscientific or historic truth may be hidden in any of its legends, such\nas the labors of Herakles, the fire-theft of Prometheus, or the rape of\nEuropa, is matter of pure conjecture. In the \"revealed\" religions, on\nthe contrary, the mythical is incidental, not principial, and always\nsubordinate to doctrine or fact. Always the truth shines through the\nmyth, explains it, justifies it.\n\nBefore proceeding any farther, I desire to explain what I mean by myth\nin this connection. I shall not attempt a philosophic definition, but\ncontent myself with this general determination. I call any story a myth\nwhich for good reasons is not to be taken historically, and yet is not a\nwilful fabrication with intent to deceive, but the natural growth of\nwonder and tradition, or a product of the Spirit uttering itself in a\nnarrative form. The myth may be the result of exaggeration, the\nexpansion of a veritable fact which gathers increments and a _posse\ncomitatus_ of additions as it travels from mouth to ear and ear to mouth\nin the carriage of verbal report; or it may be the reflection of a fact\nin the mind of a writer, who reproduces it in his writing with the color\nand proportions it has taken in his conception; or it may be the poetic\nembodiment of a mental experience; or it may be what Strauss calls \"the\ndeposit[8] of an idea,\" and another critic \"an idea shaped into fact.\" I\nthink we have examples of all these mythical formations in the New\nTestament; and I hold that the credit of the Gospel in things essential\nis nowise impaired, nor the claim of Christianity as divine revelation\ncompromised, by a frank admission of this admixture of fancy with fact\nin its record. On the contrary, I deem it important, in view of the\nvulgar radicalism which confounds the Christian dispensation and its\nrecord, soul and body, in one judgment, to separate the literary\nquestion from the spiritual, and to free the cause of faith from the\nburden of the letter.\n\n[Footnote 8: Niederschlag.]\n\nIt has been assumed that the proof of divine revelation rests on\nprecisely those portions of the record which are most offensive to\nunbelief. On this assumption the Christian apologists of a former\ngeneration grounded their plea. Prove that we have the testimony of\neye-witnesses to the miracles recorded in the Gospels, and Christianity\nis shown to be a divine revelation. In the absence of such proof (the\ninference is) Christianity can no longer claim to be, in the words of\nPaul, \"the power of God unto salvation.\" This is substantially Paley's\nargument. Planting himself on the premise that revelation is impossible\nwithout miracles, in which it is implied that miracles prove revelation,\nhe labors to establish two propositions: 1. \"That there is satisfactory\nevidence that many professing to be original witnesses of the Christian\nmiracles passed their lives in dangers, labors, and sufferings,\nvoluntarily undergone in attestation of the accounts which they\ndelivered, and solely in consequence of their belief in those accounts;\nand that they also submitted from the same motives to new rules of\nconduct.\" 2. \"That there is _not_ satisfactory evidence that persons\npretending to be original witnesses of any other similar miracles have\nacted in the same manner in attestation of the accounts which they\ndelivered, and solely in consequence of their belief in the truth of\nthose accounts.\" The argument is stated with the characteristic\nclearness of the author, and as well supported perhaps as Anglican\nchurch-erudition in those days would allow; but the case is not made\nout, and, if it were, the argument fails to satisfy the sceptical mind\nof to-day. To say nothing of its gross misconception of the nature of\nrevelation, which it makes external instead of internal, a stunning of\nthe senses instead of mental illumination, an appeal to prodigy and not\nits own sufficient witness,--waiving this objection, the argument fails\nwhen confronted with the fact that, in spite of the evidence which\nscholars and critics the most learned and acute of all time have arrayed\nin support of the genuineness of the Gospels, the number is nowise\ndiminished, but rather increases, of intelligent minds that find\nthemselves unable, on the faith of any book, however ancient, to receive\nas authentic a tale of wonders which contradict their experience of the\nlimits of human ability and their faith in the continuity of nature. For\nmyself, I beg to say, in passing, I am not of this number. I do not feel\nthe force of the objection against miracles drawn from this alleged\nconstancy of nature, which it seems to me reduces the course of human\nevents to a dead mechanical sequence, makes no allowance for any\nreserved power in nature or any incalculable forces of the Spirit, and\nvirtually rules God, the present inworking God, out of the universe. I\ncan believe in any miracle which does not actually and demonstrably\ncontravene and nullify ascertained laws, however phenomenally foreign to\nnature's ordinary course. But the possibility of miracles is one thing,\nthe possibility of proving them another. With such views as these\nobjectors entertain of the constancy of nature, I confess that no\ntestimony, not even the written affidavit of a dozen witnesses taken on\nthe spot, supposing that we had it, would suffice to convince me of the\ntruth of marvels occurring two thousand years ago, of the kind recounted\nin the Gospels. My Christian prepossessions might incline me to believe\nin them: the weight of evidence would not. No wise defender of the\nChristian cause, at the present day, will rest his plea on the issue to\nwhich Paley committed its claims. After all that Biblical critics and\nantiquarian research have raked from the dust of antiquity in proof of\nthe genuineness and authenticity of the books of the New Testament,\ncredibility still labors with the fact that the age in which these books\nwere received and put in circulation was one in which the science of\ncriticism as developed by the moderns--the science which scrutinizes\nstatements, balances evidence for and against, and sifts the true from\nthe false--did not exist; an age when a boundless credulity disposed men\nto believe in wonders as readily as in ordinary events, requiring no\nstronger proof in the case of the former than sufficed to establish the\nlatter,--viz., hearsay and vulgar report; an age when literary honesty\nwas a virtue almost unknown, and when, consequently, literary forgeries\nwere as common as genuine productions, and transcribers of sacred books\ndid not scruple to alter the text in the interest of personal views and\ndoctrinal prepossessions. The newly discovered Sinaitic Code, the\nearliest known manuscript of the New Testament, dates from the fourth\ncentury. Tischendorf the discoverer, a very orthodox critic, speaks\nwithout reserve of the license in the treatment of the text apparent in\nthis manuscript,--a license, he says, especially characteristic of the\nfirst three centuries.\n\nThese considerations, though they do not discredit the essential facts\nof the Gospel history,--facts assured to us, as I have said, by the\nvery existence of the Christian Church,--might seem to excuse the\nhesitation of the sceptic in accepting, on the faith of the record,\nincidental marvels of a kind very difficult of proof at best. I recall\nin this connection the remarkable saying of an English divine of the\nseventeenth century. \"So great, in the early ages,\" says Bishop Fell,\n\"was the license of fiction, and so prone the facility of believing,\nthat the credibility of history has been gravely embarrassed thereby;\nand not only the secular world, but the Church of God, has reason to\ncomplain of its mythical periods.\"[9]\n\n[Footnote 9: Tanta fuit primis seculis fingendi licentia, tam prona in\ncredendo facilitas, ut rerum gestarum fides graviter exinde laboraverit,\nnec orbis tantum terrarum sed et Dei ecclesia de temporibus suis\nmythicis merito queratur.]\n\nIt is not in the interest of criticism, much less of a wilful\niconoclasm, from which my whole nature revolts, but of Christian faith,\nthat I advocate the supposition of a mythical element in the New\nTestament. I am well aware that in this advocacy I shall lack the\nconsent of many good people who identify the cause of religion with its\naccidents, and fancy that the sanctuary is in danger when a blind is\nraised to let in new light. I respect the piety that clings to idols\nwhich Truth has outgrown, as Paul at Athens respected the religion which\nworshipped ignorantly the unknown God. But Truth once seen will draw\npiety after it, and new sanctities will replace the old. No Protestant\nin these days feels himself bound to accept as history the\necclesiastical legends of the post-apostolic age. Some of them are quite\nas significant as some of those embodied in the canon; but no Protestant\nscruples to reject as spurious the story of the caldron of boiling oil\ninto which St. John was thrown by order of the Emperor Domitian, and\nfrom which he escaped unharmed, or that of the lioness which licked the\nfeet of Thecla in the circus at Antioch, or Peter's encounter with\nChrist in the suburbs of Rome. If we talk of evidence, I do not see but\nthe miracles said to be performed by the relics of martyrs at Milan,\nattested by St. Augustine, and those of St. Cuthbert of Durham, attested\nby the venerable Bede, are as well substantiated as the opening of the\nprison doors and the liberation of the Apostles by an angel, attested by\nLuke. The Church of Rome makes no such distinction between the first and\nthe following centuries: she indorses the miracles of all alike. But\nmodern Protestantism draws a line of sharp separation between the\napostolic and the post-apostolic ages. On the farther side the portents\nare all genuine historic facts: on the hither side they are all\nfigments. While John the Evangelist, the last of the twelve, yet\nbreathed, a miracle was still possible: his breath departed, it became\nan impossibility for evermore. And yet when Conyers Middleton first ran\nthis line between the ages, and published his refutation of the claim of\ncontinued miraculous power in the Church, religious sensibility\nexperienced a shock as great as that inflicted in our day by Strauss,\nand resented with equal indignation the affront to Christian faith. The\nauthor of the \"Free Inquiry\" published in 1748 was assailed by\nopponents, who \"insinuate\" he tells us \"fears and jealousies of I know\nnot what consequences dangerous to Christianity, ruinous to the faith of\nhistory, and introductive of universal scepticism.\" The larger work had\nbeen preceded by an \"Introductory Discourse\" put forth as a feeler of\nthe public pulse; for \"I began,\" he says, \"to think it a duty which\ncandor and prudence prescribed, not to alarm the public at once with an\nargument so strange and so little understood, nor to hazard an\nexperiment so big with consequences till I had at first given out some\nsketch or general plan of what I was projecting.\" The experiment which\nrequired such careful preparation was to ascertain how far the English\npublic in the middle of the eighteenth century would bear to have it\nsaid that the miracles affirmed by Augustine and Chrysostom and Jerome,\nas occurring in their day, were not as worthy of credit as any of the\nwonders recorded in the New Testament. Up to that time, English\nProtestants as well as Romanists had given equal credence to both, and\nesteemed the former as essential to Christian faith as the latter. Men\nlike Waterland and Dodwell and Archbishop Tillotson held that miracles\ncontinued in the Church until the close of the third century, and were\neven occasionally witnessed in the fourth. Whiston, the consistent\nArian, maintained their continuance up to the establishment of the\nAthanasian doctrine in 381, and \"that as soon as the Church became\nAthanasian, antichristian, and popish, they ceased immediately; and the\nDevil lent it his own cheating and fatal powers instead.\"\n\nTo me, I confess, the position of the Church of Rome in this matter\nseems less indefensible than that of Middleton and modern Protestantism.\nEither deny the possibility of miracles altogether to finite powers, or\nadmit their possibility in the second century, and the third century, as\nwell as the first, and in all centuries whenever a worthy occasion\ndemands such agency. I can see no reason for separating, as Middleton\ndoes, the age of the Apostles from all succeeding. Had he drawn the line\nbetween the miracles of Christ and those ascribed to his followers, the\nprinciple of division would have been more intelligible, and more\nadmissible on the ground of ecclesiastical orthodoxy.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBut the question here is not of the possibility or probability of\nmiracles, as such, in one age rather than another. It is a question\nsimply of Biblical interpretation,--whether the literal sense of the\nrecord is in every case the true sense, whether history or fiction is\nthe key to certain Scriptures. Those who insist on the verbal\ninspiration of the New Testament will be apt to likewise insist on the\nliteral historic sense of every part of every narrative. And yet that\nmode of interpretation is by no means a necessary consequence or logical\noutcome of that theory. Origen believed in the verbal inspiration of the\nOld Testament, but Origen did not accept in their literal sense the\nHebrew theophanies: he allegorized whatever seemed to him to degrade the\nidea of God. The Spirit can utter itself in fiction as well as fact, and\nin communicating with Oriental minds was quite as likely to do so. And\nsurely, for those who reject the notion of verbal inspiration, the way\nis open, in perfect consistency with Christian faith, for such\ninterpretation as reason may approve or the credit of the record be\nthought to require. The credit of the record will sometimes require an\nallegorical interpretation instead of a literal one.\n\nIt is a childish limitation which in reading stories can feel no\ninterest in any thing but fact; and a childish misconception which\nsupposes that where the form is narrative, historic fact must needs be\nthe substance. Recount to a little child a fable of Pilpay or \u00c6sop, and\nhis questions betray his inability to apprehend it otherwise than as\nliteral fact. He has no doubt of the truth of the story; \"what did the\nlion say then?\" he asks; and \"what did the fox do next?\" The maturer\nmind has also no doubt of the truth of the story, but sees that its\ntruth is the moral it embodies. Of many of the Gospel stories the moral\ncontained in them is the real truth. In the height of our late civil war\nthere appeared in a popular journal a story entitled \"A Man without a\nCountry,\" related with such artistic verisimilitude, such minuteness of\ndetail, such grave official references, that many who read it not once\nsuspected the clever invention, and felt themselves somewhat aggrieved\nwhen apprised that fiction, not fact, had conveyed the moral intended by\nthe genial author. But those who saw from the first through the veil of\nfiction the needful truth and the patriotic intent were not less edified\nthan if they had believed the characters real, and every incident\nvouched by contemporary record. The story of William Tell was once\nuniversally received as authentic history: it was written in the hearts\nof the people of Uri, and so religiously were all its incidents\ncherished, that when a book appeared discrediting the sacred tradition\nit was publicly burned by the hangman at Altorf. For five centuries the\nchapel on the shore of the Lake of the Four Cantons has commemorated a\nhero whose very existence is now questioned, of whom contemporary annals\nknow nothing, of whose tyrant Gessler the well-kept records of the\nCanton exhibit no trace, whose apple placed as a mark for the father's\narrow on the head of his child is proved to have done a foregone service\nin an elder Danish tale. The story resolves itself into an idea. That\nidea is all that concerns us; and that idea survives, inexpugnable to\ncriticism, a truth for evermore. In the world of ideas there is still a\nWilliam Tell who defied the tyrant at Altorf, and slew him at K\u00fcsnacht,\nand whose image will live while the mountains stand that gave it birth.\n\nAnd so all that is memorable out of the past, all that tradition has\npreserved, the veritable facts of history as well as the myths of\nlegendary lore, pass finally into ideas. Only as ideas they survive,\nonly as ideas have they any abiding value. The anecdote recorded of\nAristides--his writing his own name at the request of an ignorant\ncitizen on the shell that should condemn him--embodies a noble idea\nwhich has floated down to us from the head-waters of Grecian history. Do\nwe care to know the evidence on which it rests? If by critical\ninvestigation the fact were made doubtful, would that doubt at all\nimpair the truth of the idea? The story of Damon and Pythias, reported\nby Valerius Maximus, for aught that we know, may be a myth: suppose it\ncould be proved to be so, the truth that is in it would be none the less\nprecious. We do not receive it on the faith of the historian, but on the\nfaith of its own intrinsic beauty. There is scarcely a fact in the\nannals of mankind so vouched and ascertained as to be beyond the reach\nof historic doubt, if any delver in ancient documents, or curious\nsceptic, shall see fit to call it in question. But, however the fact may\nbe questioned, the idea remains. We have lived to see apologies for\nJudas Iscariot, and the literary rehabilitation of Henry VIII. But Judas\nis none the less, in popular tradition, the typical traitor, the\nimpersonation of devilish malice; and Henry VIII. is no less the\nremorseless tyrant whose will was his God. When Napoleon I. pronounced\nall history a fable agreed on, he reasoned better perhaps than he knew.\nThe agreement is the thing essential; but that agreement is never\ncomplete, is never final. Every original writer of history finds\nsomething to qualify, and often something to reverse, in the judgment of\nhis predecessors. How can it be otherwise, when even eye-witnesses\ndisagree in their observation and report of the same transaction; when\neven in a matter so recent as the siege of Paris, or the conflagration\nof Chicago, the verification of facts is embarrassed by contradictory\naccounts? The best that history yields to philosophic thought is not\nfacts, but ideas. These are all that remain at last when the tale is\ntold,--all, at least, that the mind can appropriate, all that profits in\nhistorical studies, the intellectual harvest of the past. A fact means\nnothing until thought has transmuted it into itself: its value is simply\nthe idea it subtends. Homer's heroes are as true in this sense as those\nof Plutarch. Ajax and Hector are as real to me as Cimon or Lysander; Don\nQuixote's battle with the windmills which Cervantes imagined is as real\nas the battle of Lepanto in which Cervantes fought; and Shakespeare's\nHamlet is incomparably more real than the Prince of Denmark whom Saxo\nGrammaticus chronicles.\n\nI do not underrate the importance of facts on their own historic plane.\nThe historian, as annalist, is bound by the rules of his craft with\nconscientious investigation to ascertain, substantiate, and establish,\nif he can, the precise facts of the period he explores. I only contend\nthat historic truth is not the only truth; that a fact,--if I may use\nthat term in this connection for want of a better,--that a fact which is\nnot historically true may yet be true on a higher plane than that of\nhistory, true to reason, to moral and religious sentiment and human\nneed. The story of Christ's temptation is none the less true, but a\ngreat deal more so, when the narrative which embodies the interior\npsychological fact is conceived as myth, than when it is interpreted as\nveritable history. The truth that concerns us is that the Son of Man\n\"was tempted in all points as we are,\" not that he was taken by the\nDevil and set on a pinnacle of the Temple, and thence spirited away\n\"into an exceeding high mountain.\"\n\nWe have now attained a point of view from which to estimate on the one\nhand the real import of what I have ventured to call the myths of the\nNew Testament, and on the other hand to overrule the petulant radicalism\nwhich, not distinguishing truth of idea from truth of fact, contemns\nthese legends, and perhaps contemns the Gospel, on their account. I have\nwished to show how unessential it is to the right enjoyment or\nprofitable use of those portions of the record that we receive them as\nfact; to show that, if we seize and appropriate the idea, those\nnarratives are quite as edifying from a mythical as from an historical\npoint of view; in other words, that the Holy Spirit may and does\ninstruct by fiction as well as fact. If I am asked to draw the line\nwhich separates fact from fiction, or to fix the criterion by which to\ndiscriminate the one from the other, I answer that I do not pretend to\ndecide this point for myself, much less should I presume to attempt to\nsettle it for others. I am not disposed to dogmatize on the subject. It\nis a matter in which each must judge for himself. I will only say that\nfor myself I do not place the line of demarcation between miracle and\nthe unmiraculous, for the reason that it seems to me, as I said before,\nunphilosophical to make our every-day experience of the limits of human\npower and the capabilities of nature an absolute standard by which to\nmeasure the possible scope of the one or the other.\n\nI content myself with a single illustration of what I regard as a\nmythical formation. My example is the story known as \"The Annunciation.\"\nLuke alone, of all the evangelists, records the tale. The angel Gabriel\nis sent to a virgin named Mary, and surprises her with the tidings,\n\"Thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and shalt bring forth a son, and shalt\ncall his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of\nthe Highest. And the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his\nfather David. And he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and\nof his kingdom there shall be no end.\" This beautiful legend, the most\nbeautiful, I think, of all the legends connected with the birth of\nChrist, the favorite theme of Christian art, so lovingly handled by Fra\nAngelico, by Correggio, Raphael, Titian, Andrea del Sarto, and a host of\nothers, is best understood as a Jewish-Christian conception, taking an\nhistoric form and \"shaped into a fact.\" The legend represents the\nhumility and faith of a pious maiden communing with the heavenly\nPresence, drawing to herself divine revelations of grace and promise,\nand thus sanctioning the hope so dear to every Jewish maiden,--that of\nbecoming the mother of the Messiah. The sudden inspiration of that hope\nis the angel of the Annunciation.\n\nA word more. How far is our idea of Christ affected by a mode of\ninterpretation which supposes a mingling of mythical with historic\nelements in the Gospel record? That idea is based on the representations\nof the evangelists. Will not our confidence in those representations be\nimpaired by this view of their contents? I see no cause to apprehend a\nresult so distressing to Christian faith. The mythical interpretation of\ncertain portions of the Gospel has no appreciable bearing on the\ncharacter of Christ. The impartial reader of the record must see that\nthe evangelists did not invent that character; they did not make the\nJesus of their story; on the contrary, it was he that made them. It is a\ntrue saying that only a Christ could invent a Christ. The Christ of\nhistory is a true reflection of the image which Jesus of Nazareth\nimprinted on the mind of his contemporaries. In that image the spiritual\ngreatness, the moral perfection, are not more conspicuous than the\nwell-defined individuality which permeates the story, and which no\ngenius could invent.\n\nIf the Christ of the Church, of Christian faith, is, as some will have\nit, an ideal being, it was Jesus of Nazareth who made the ideal. The\nideal in him is simply the result of that disengagement from the earthly\nvestiture which death and distance work in all who live in history. By\nthe very necessity of its function, history idealizes. The historic\nfigure and the individual represented by it, though inseparably one in\nsubstance, are not so identical in outline that the one exactly covers\nthe other, no more and no less. The individual is the bodily presence as\nit dwells in space; the historic figure is the image of himself which\nthe individual stamps on his time, and, so far as his record reaches, on\nall succeeding time,--his import to human kind. That image is a\nveritable portrait, but not in the sense of a _fac-simile_. A material\nportrait, a portrait painted with hands, if the painter understands his\nart, is not a _fac-simile_: it presents the chronic idea or\ncharacteristic mode, not the temporary accidents, \"the fallings off, the\nvanishings,\" of the person portrayed. In the hero-galleries of\nTradition, as in the visions of the Apocalypse, they are seen with white\nrobes, and palms in their hands, and unwrinkled brows of grace, who in\nlife were begrimed with the dust and furrowed with the cares of their\ntime. St. Paul is there without his thorn in the flesh, Luther without\nhis impatience, Washington without his fiery choler, Lincoln without his\ncoarseness, Dante and Milton without their scorn. History strips off the\nindignities of earth when she dresses her heroes for immortality. And\nthe transfigurations she gives us are nearer the truth than the\nlimitations of ordinary life. The man is more truly himself in the epic\nstrain of public action, with spirit braced and harness on, than in the\nsubsidence and undress of the closet. It is not the gossiping anecdotes,\nthe spoils of the ungirt private life, so dear to antiquaries and\nliterary scavengers, but the things which history hastens to record,\nthat show the man. We must take the life at full-tide; we must view it\nin its freest determination, in its supreme moment, to know the deepest\nthat is in him. And the deepest that is in him is the true man. That is\nhis idea, his mission to the world, his historic significance. It is\nthis that concerns us in all the great actors of history,--the historic\nperson, not the individual. And the more the historic person absorbs the\nindividual, the higher we rise in the scale of being until we reach the\nidea of God, from which all individuality is excluded, and only the\nPerson remains, filling space and time with the ceaseless procession of\nhis being.\n\nWe misread the Gospel and reverse the true and divine order, if we\nsuppose the ideal Christ to be an essence distilled from the historical.\nOn the contrary, the ideal Christ is the root and ground of the\nhistorical; and without the antecedent idea inspiring, commanding, the\nhistory would never have been.\n\nIt has not been my intention in any thing I have said to make light of\nthe record. The record to me is a literary relic of inestimable value,\naboriginal memorial of the dearest and divinest appearance in human form\nthat ever beamed on earthly scenes. I sympathize with every attempt to\nclear up and verify its minutest details, with the labors of all critics\nand arch\u00e6ologists devoted to this end. I rejoice in all topographical\nadjustments and illustrations; in all that local researches, following\nin the steps of \"those blessed feet,\" have gleaned from the soil of\nPalestine. But all this is important only as it draws its inspiration\nfrom and leads my aspiration to the ideal Christ, \"the same yesterday,\nto-day, and for ever.\" Dissociated from this idea, the acres of\nPalestine are as barren as any which the ebbing of a nation's life has\nleft desolate.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PLACE OF MIND IN NATURE\n\nAND\n\nINTUITION IN MAN.\n\nBy JAMES MARTINEAU.\n\n    \"Behold, there went forth a Sower to sow.\"--Mark iv. 3.\n\n\nThat the universe we see around us was not always there, is so little\ndisputed, that every philosophy and every faith undertakes to tell how\nit came to be. They all assume, as the theatre of their problem, the\nfield of space where all objects lie, and the track of time where events\nhave reached the Now. But into these they carry, to aid them in\nrepresenting the origin of things, such interpreting conceptions as may\nbe most familiar to the knowledge or fancy of their age: first, the\n_fiat of Almighty Will_, which bade the void be filled, so that the\nlight kindled, and the waters swayed, and the earth stood fast beneath\nthe vault of sky; next, when the sway of poetry and force had yielded to\nthe inventive arts, the idea of a _contriving and adapting power_,\nbuilding and balancing the worlds to go smoothly and keep time together,\nand stocking them with self-moving and sensitive machines; and now,\nsince physiology has got to the front, the analogy of _the seed or\ngerm_, in itself the least of things, yet so prolific that, with history\nlong enough, it will be as spawn upon the waters, and fill every waste\nwith the creatures as they are. The prevalence of this newest metaphor\nbetrays itself in the current language of science: we now \"_unfold_\"\nwhat we used to \"_take to pieces_;\" we \"_develop_\" the theory which we\nused to \"_construct_;\" we treat the system of the world as an\n\"_organism_\" rather than a \"_mechanism_;\" we search each of its members\nto see, not what it is _for_, but what it is _from_; and the doctrine of\n_Evolution_ only applies the image of indefinite growth of the greater\nout of the less, till from some datum invisible to the microscope arises\na teeming universe.\n\nIn dealing with these three conceptions,--of _Creation_, _Construction_,\n_Evolution_,--there is one thing on which Religion insists, viz., that\n_Mind is first, and rules for ever_; and, whatever the process be, is\n_its_ process, moving towards congenial ends. Let this be granted, and\nit matters not by what path of method the Divine Thought advances, or\nhow long it is upon the road. Whether it flashes into realization, like\nlightning out of Night; or fabricates, like a Demiurge, through a\nproducing season, and then beholds the perfect work; or is for ever\nthinking into life the thoughts of beauty and the love of good; whether\nit calls its materials out of nothing, or finds them ready, and disposes\nof them from without; or throws them around as its own manifestation,\nand from within shapes its own purpose into blossom,--makes no\ndifference that can be fatal to human piety. Time counts for nothing\nwith the Eternal; and though it should appear that the system of the\nworld and the ranks of being arose, not by a start of crystallization,\nbut, like the grass or the forest, by silent and seasonal gradations, as\ntrue a worship may be paid to the Indwelling God who makes matter itself\ntransparent with spiritual meanings, and breathes before us in the\npulses of nature, and appeals to us in the sorrows of men, as to the\npre-existing Deity who, from an infinite loneliness, suddenly became the\nMaker of all. Nay, if the poet always looks upon the world through a\nsuppliant eye, craving to meet his own ideal and commune with it alive;\nif prayer is ever a \"feeling after Him to find Him,\" the fervor and the\njoy of both must be best sustained, if they are conscious not only of\nthe stillness of His presence, but of the movement of His thought, and\nnever quit the date of His creative moments. In the idea, therefore, of\na gradual unfolding of the creative plan, and the maturing of it by\nrules of growth, there is nothing necessarily prejudicial to piety; and\nso long as the Divine Mind is left in undisturbed supremacy, as the\nliving All in all, the belief may even foster a larger, calmer, tenderer\ndevotion, than the conceptions which it supersedes. But it is liable to\na special illusion, which the others by their coarsely separating lines\nmanage to escape. Taking all the causation of the world into the\ninterior, instead of setting it to operate from without, it seems to\ndispense with God, and to lodge the power of indefinite development in\nthe first seeds of things; and the apprehension seizes us, that as the\noak will raise itself when the acorn and the elements are given, so from\nits germs might the universe emerge, though nothing Divine were there.\nThe seeds no doubt were on the field; but who can say whether ever \"a\nSower went forth to sow\"? So long as you plant the Supreme Cause at a\ndistance from His own effects, and assign to Him a space or a time where\nnothing else can be, the conception of that separate and solitary\nexistence, however barren, is secure. But in proportion as you think of\nHim as never in an empty field, waiting for a future beginning of\nactivity, as you let Him mingle with the elements and blend with the\nnatural life of things, there is a seeming danger lest His light should\ndisappear behind the opaque material veil, and His Spirit be quenched\namid the shadows of inexorable Law. This danger haunts our time. The\ndoctrine of Evolution, setting itself to show how the greatest things\nmay be brought out of the least, fills us with fear whether perhaps Mind\nmay not be last instead of first, the hatched and full-fledged form of\nthe protoplasmic egg; whether at the outset any thing was there but the\nraw rudiments of matter and force; whether the hierarchy of organized\nbeings is not due to progressive differentiation of structure, and\nresolvable into splitting and agglutination of cells; whether the\nIntellect of man is more than blind instinct grown self-conscious, and\nshaping its beliefs by defining its own shadows; whether the Moral sense\nis not simply a trained acceptance of rules worked out by human\ninterests, an inherited record of the utilities; so that Design in\nNature, Security in the Intuitions of Reason, Divine Obligation in the\nlaw of Conscience, may all be an illusory semblance, a glory from the\nlater and ideal days thrown back upon the beginning, as a golden sunset\nflings its light across the sky, and, as it sinks, dresses up the East\nagain with borrowed splendor.\n\nThis doubt, which besets the whole intellectual religion of our time,\nassumes that we must _measure every nature in its beginnings_; admit\nnothing to belong to its essence except what is found in it then; and\ndeny its reports of itself; so far as they depart from that original\nstandard. It takes two forms, according as the doctrine of Evolution is\napplied to Man himself, or to the outward universe. In the former case,\nit infuses distrust into our self-knowledge, weakens our subjective\nreligion or native faith in the intuitions of thought and conscience,\nand tempts us to imagine that the higher they are, the further are they\nfrom any assured solidity of base. In the latter case, it weakens our\nobjective religion, suggests that there is no originating Mind, and that\nthe divine look of the world is but the latest phase of its finished\nsurface, instead of the incandescence of its inmost heart. Let us first\nglance at the theory of HUMAN evolution, and the moral illusions it is\napt to foster.\n\nI. Under the name of the \"Experience Philosophy,\" this theory has long\nbeen applied to the _mind of the individual_; and has produced not a few\nadmirable analyses of the formation of language and the tissue of\nthought; nor is there any legitimate objection to it, except so far as\nits simplifications are overstrained and cannot be made good. It\nundertakes, with a minimum of initial capacity, to account for the\nmaximum of human genius and character: give it only the sensible\npleasures and pains, the spontaneous muscular activity, and the law by\nwhich associated mental phenomena cling together; and out of these\nelements it will weave before your eyes the whole texture of the perfect\ninner life, be it the patterned story of imagination, the delicate web\nof the affections, or the seamless robe of moral purity. The outfit is\nthat of the animal; the product but \"a little lower than the angel.\" All\nthe higher endowments--our apprehension of truth, our consciousness of\nduty, our self-sacrificing pity, our religious reverence--are in this\nview merely transformed sensations; the disinterested impulses are\nrefinements spun out of the coarse fibre of self-love; the subtlest\nintellectual ideas are but elaborated perceptions of sight or touch;\nand the sense of Right, only interest or fear under a disguise. If this\nbe so, how will the discovery affect our natural trust in the\nintimations of our supreme faculties? Does it not discharge as dreams\ntheir most assured revelations? By intuition of Reason we believe in the\nLaw of Causality, in the infinitude of Space, in the relations of\nNumber, in the reality of an outside world, in all the fundamental\nconceptions of Science; but here are they, one and all, recalled to the\nstandard of Sense, which they seem to transcend, and emptied of any\nmeaning beyond. By vision of Imagination we see an ideal beauty\nenfolding many a person and many a scene, and appealing to us as a\npathetic light gleaming from within; but here we find it all resolved\ninto curvature of lines and adjustments of color. By inspiration of\nConscience we learn that our sin is the defiance of a Divine authority,\nand, though hid from every human eye, drives us into a wilderness of\nExile,--for \"the wicked fleeth, though no man pursueth;\" but here we are\ntold that the ultimate elements of good and evil are our own pleasures\nand pains, from which the moral sanction selects as its specialty the\napprobation and disapprobation of our fellow-men. Thus all the\nindependent values which our higher faculties had claimed for their\nnatural affections and beliefs are dissipated as fallacious; they are\nall based upon a _sentient measure_ of worth which lies at the bottom;\nthey are like paper money, refined contrivances representative of the\nultimate gold of pleasure, but, where not interchangeable with this,\nintrinsically worthless. And so the feeling almost inevitably spreads,\nthat we are dupes of our own characteristic capacities; that the loftier\nair into which they lift us is a tinted and distorting medium, and\nshows us glories that are not there; that the idea of an eternal Fount\nof beauty, truth and goodness, behind the pleasingness and concinnity of\nphenomena, is an illusion; and that the tendency, irresistible as it is,\nto cling to this idea as something higher than its denial, is but a part\nof the romance. Is this scepticism imaginary? Let any one, in studying\nthe modern writers of this school, compare the solid, manly, sensible\nway in which they deal with every thing on the physiological and\nsensational level, with their manner towards all the convictions and\nsentiments usually recognized as the supreme lights of our nature; the\ntone now of forbearing indulgence, now of sickly appreciation, often of\nhardly concealed contempt, that is heard beneath the interminable\nconjectural analyses of Moral and Religious affections,--and he will\nfeel the difference between the honor that is paid to truth, and the\nconstrained patience towards what other men revere.\n\nBy a recent extension, the theory of Evolution has been applied to the\nwhole natural history of our race; and the resources of _Habit_, already\nserviceable in explaining the aptitudes of individuals, have been turned\nto account on the larger scale of successive generations, transmitting\nby inheritance the acquisitions hitherto made good. In the training of a\nnature, the world thus becomes a permanent school, the interruption of\ndeath is virtually abolished, and life is laid open to continuous\nprogress. By this immense gain of power, it is supposed, all the\ndifferences which separate Man from other animals may be accounted for\nas gradual attainments; and many an intuition of the mind, too immediate\nand self-evident to be a product of personal experience, may yield to\nanalysis as a more protracted growth, and stand as the compend of ages\nof gathering feeling and condensing thought. Among creatures that herd\ntogether for common safety, each one learns to read the looks of anger\nor of good-will in its neighbors, and discovers what it is that brings\nupon him the one or other; and insensibly he forms to himself a rule for\navoiding the displeasure and conciliating the favor in which he has so\nlarge an interest. This rudimentary experience imprints and records\nitself in the nervous organization, and descends to ulterior generations\nas an original and instinctive recoil from what offends and impulse\ntowards what gratifies the feeling of the tribe: so that the lesson\nneeds not be gone over again; but the offspring, taking up his education\nwhere the parent left off, accumulates his feeling, quickens his mental\nexecution, and hands down fresh contributions to what at last emerges as\na Moral Sense. In this way, it is contended, the Conscience is a hoarded\nfund of traditionary pressures of utility, gradually effacing the\nprimitive vestiges of fear, and dispensing itself with an affluence of\ndisinterested sympathy. And the religious consciousness that visits the\nsoul in its remorse, of an invisible Witness and Judge who condemns the\nsin, comes, we are told, from the deification of public opinion, or the\nfancy that some dead hero's ghost still watches over the conduct of his\nclan.\n\nThis vast enlargement of the doctrine of Evolution, while increasing its\npower, and removing it from the reach of accurate tests, alters neither\nits principle nor its practical effect. It undertakes to exhibit the\nhighest and the greatest in our nature as ulterior phenomena of the\nlowest and the least. And it usually treats as a superstition our\nnatural reverence for the rational, moral, and religious intuitions as\nsources of independent insight and ultimate authority; and, in order to\nestimate them, translates them back into short-hand expressions of\nsensible experience and social utility. Nor can we wonder at this\nscepticism. If the only reality at bottom of the sense of duty is fear\nand submission to opinion, whatever it carries in it that transcends\nthis ground, and persuades us of an Obligation in which fear and opinion\nhave no voice, is an ideal addition got up within us by causes which\nproduce in us all sorts of psychological figments. If the only facts\nthat lie in our idea of Space are a set of feelings in the muscles and\nthe skin and the eye, then whatever beliefs it involves which these\ncannot verify are naturally discredited, and treated as curiosities of\nartificial manufacture. If our human characteristics are throughout the\ndeveloped instincts of the brute, differing only in degree, then the\nmoment they present us with intuitions which are distinct _in kind_,\nthey begin to play us false; and those who see through the cheat\nnaturally warn us against them. And so we are constantly told that our\nhighest attributes are only the lower that have lost their memory, and\nmistake themselves for something else.\n\nIt is not my present intention to call in question either of these\nvarieties of evolution. Inadequate as the evidence of them both appears\nto be, I will suppose their case to be made out: and still, I submit, it\ndoes not justify the sceptical estimate which it habitually fosters of\nthe intellectual, moral, and religious intuitions of the human mind.\nFor,\n\n(1) Though animal sensation, with its connected instinct, should be the\nraw material of our whole mental history, it is not on that account\nentitled _to measure all that comes after it_, and stand as the\nboundary-line between fact and dream, between terra firma and \"airy\nnothing.\" That which is first in Time has no necessary priority of rank\nin the scale of truth and reality; and the later-found may well be the\ngreater existence and the more assured. If it is a development of\nFaculty, and not of incapacity, which the theory provides, the process\nmust advance us into new light, and not withdraw us from clearer light\nbehind: and we have reason to confide in the freshest gleams and inmost\nvisions of to-day, and to discard whatever quenches and confuses them in\nthe vague and turbid beginnings of the Past. With what plea will you\nexhort me, \"If you would rid yourself of intellectual mysteries, come\nwith us, and see the stuff your thought is made of: if you would stand\nfree of ideal illusions, count with us the medullary waves that have run\ntogether into the flood-tide of what you call your conscience: if you\nwould shake off superstition, look at the way in which the image of dead\nmen will hang about the fancy of a savage, or the personification of an\nabstract quality imposes on the ignorance of simple times\"? Is our\nwisdom to be gathered by going back to the age before our errors? And\ninstead of consulting the maturity of thought, are we to peer into its\ncradle and seek oracles in its infant cries? If the last appeal be to\nthe animal elements of experience, we can learn only by unlearning; and\nby shutting one after another of the hundred ideal eyes of the finished\nintellect, we shall have a chance of seeing and feeling things as they\nare. If nothing is to be deemed true but what the pre-human apes saw,\nthen all the sciences must be illusory; with the suicidal result that,\nwith them, this doctrine of Evolution must vanish too. Or if, stopping\nshort of this extreme distrust of the acquired intuitions, you make a\nreservation in favor of the new visions of the intellect, what right can\nyou show for discharging those of the conscience? The tacit assumption\ntherefore that you upset a super-sensual belief, by tracing the history\nof its emergence among sensible conditions, is a groundless prejudice.\n\n(2) Further, the question to be determined may be presented as a problem\nin physiology, to be resolved by corresponding rules: What is the\n_function_ of certain parts of our human constitution, viz., the Reason\nand the Moral Faculty? Now it is a recognized principle that, in\nestimating function, you must study the organ, not in its rudimentary\ncondition, before it has disengaged itself from adjacent admixtures and\nflung off the foreign elements, but in its perfect or differentiated\nstate, so as to do its own work and nothing else. In order to give the\nidea of a timepiece to one who had it not, you would not send him to one\nof the curious medi\u00e6val clocks which could play a tune, and fire a gun,\nand announce the sunrise, and mark the tides, and report twenty\nmiscellaneous things besides; but to the modern chronometer, simple and\ncomplete, that, telling only the moment, tells it perfectly. And in\nnatural organizations, to learn the capabilities and project of any\nstructure, you would not resort to the embryo where it is forming but\nnot working: you would wait till it was born into the full presence of\nthe elements with which it had to deal; not till then could you see how\nthey played upon it, and what was its response to them. In conformity\nwith this rule, whither would you betake yourself, if you want to\nmeasure the intrinsic competency of our intellectual faculty, and\ndetermine what its very nature gives it to know? Would you take counsel\nof the nurse who held you \"when you first opened your eyes to the\nlight,\"[10] or otherwise study \"the first consciousness in any infant,\"\n\"before the time when memory commences,\"[11] and disregard every thing\n\"subsequent to the first beginnings of intellectual life\"?[12] On the\ncontrary, you would avoid that soft inchoate promise of nature, only\nnominally born, where the very structures of its finer work have not yet\nset into their distinctive consistency and form; and will hold your\npeace till the faculty is awake and on its feet, and can clearly tell\nyou what it sees for itself, and what it makes out at second-hand: just\nas, to gauge the lunar light, you must have patience while the thin\ncrescent grows, and wait till the full orb is there. Still less can you\ntake the report of the Moral Faculty from the confessions of the cradle,\nor from the quarrels and affections of the apes; the conditions being\nnot yet present for the bare conception of a moral problem. The most\nthat can be asked of an intuition is, that it shall keep pace with the\ncases as they arise, and be on the spot when it is wanted; and if you\nwould know what provision our nature holds for dealing with its Duty and\ninterpreting its guilt, you must go into the thick of its moral life,\nand bid it tell you what it sees from the swaying tides of temptation\nand of victory. The \"purity\" of intuitions is not \"pristine,\" but\nultimate; cleared at length from accidental and irrelevant dilutions,\nand with essence definitely crystallized, they realize and exhibit the\nidea that lay at the heart of all their tentatives, and constitutes\ntheir truth. Am I told that it is hopeless at so late an hour to\nseparate what is an indigenous gift from what is implanted by education?\nI reply, it no doubt requires, but it will not baffle, the hand of\nskilled analysis; it is a difficulty which, in other cases, we find it\nnot impossible to overcome; for there are assuredly instincts and\naffections, strictly original and natural, that make no sign and play no\npart till our maturer years, yet which are readily distinguished from\nthe products of artificial culture.\n\n[Footnote 10: Mill's Examination of Hamilton, 3d ed. p. 172.]\n\n[Footnote 11: Ibid.]\n\n[Footnote 12: Ibid., p. 160.]\n\nIf, to find the functions of our higher faculties, we must look to their\nlast stage, and not to their first, we at once recover and justify the\nideal conceptions which the expositors of Evolution are accustomed to\ndisparage as romance. For among these functions are present certain\nIntuitive beliefs--for the Reason, in Divine Causality; for the\nConscience, in Divine Authority; together blending into the knowledge of\na Supreme and Holy Mind. These august apprehensions we are entitled to\ndeclare are not the illusions, but the discoveries, of Man; who, by\nrising into them, is born into more of the Universe of things than any\nother being upon earth, and is made conscious of its transcendent and\nultimate realities. If these trusts are indeed the growth of ages, from\nseeds invisibly dropped upon the field of time, be it so; it was not\nwithout hand: there was _a Sower_ that went forth to sow.\n\nII. We turn now to the Second Form of doubt raised by the doctrine of\nEvolution: under which it weakens our objective trust in an originating\nMind.\n\nA naturalist who to his own satisfaction has traced the pedigree of the\nhuman intellect, conscience, and religion, to Ascidian skin-bags\nsticking to the sea-side rocks, is not likely to arrest the genealogy\nthere, at a stage so little fitted to serve as a starting-point of\nderivative being. Or, if his own retreat should go no further, others\nwill take up the regressive race, and, soon passing the near and easy\nline into the vegetable kingdom, will work through its provinces to its\nlichen-spotted edge: and, after perhaps one shrinking look, will dare\nthe leap into the dead realm beyond, and bring home the parentage of all\nto the primitive elements of \"matter and force.\" To give effect to this\nextension over the universe at large of the theory of Evolution, the\nscientific imagination of our day has long been meditating its projected\nbook of Genesis, and has already thrown out its special chapters here\nand there; and though the scenes of the drama as a whole are not yet\narranged, the general plan is clear: that the Lucretian method is the\ntrue one; that nothing arises for a purpose, but only from a power; that\nno Divine Actor therefore is required, but only atoms extended,\nresisting, shaped, with spheres of mutual attraction and repulsion;\nthat, with these _minima_ to begin with, a growth will follow of itself\nby which the _maxima_ will be reached; and that thus far the chief and\nlatest thing it has done is the apparition of Mind in the human race and\ncivilization in human society, conferring upon man the melancholy\nprivilege of being, so far as he knows, at the summit of the universe.\n\nThe main support of this doctrine is found in two arguments, supplied\nrespectively by physical science and by natural history; each of which\nwe will pass under review.\n\ni. The former relies on the new scientific conception of the _Unity of\nForce_. When Newton established the composition of Light in his treatise\non Optics, and the law of Gravitation in his Principia, he conceived\nhimself to be treating of two separate powers of nature, between which,\nquick as he was to seize unexpected relations, he dreamt of no\ninterchange. Yet now it is understood that when collisions occur of\nbodies gravitating on opposite lines, the momenta that seem to be killed\nsimply burst into light and heat. When Priestley's experiments detected\nthe most important chemical element on the one hand, and the fundamental\nelectrical laws on the other, he seemed to move on paths of research\nthat had no contact. Yet, in the next generation, chemical compounds\nwere resolved by electricity; which again turns up in exchange for\nmagnetism, and can pass into motion, heat, and light. To see the\ntransmigration of natural agency, trace only through a few of its links\nthe effect of the sunshine on the tropic seas. So far as it warms the\nmass of waters, either directly or through the scorched shores that they\nwash, it stirs them into shifting layers and currents, and creates\n_mechanical_ power. But it also removes the superficial film; and thus\nfar spends itself, not in raising the temperature, but in changing the\nform from liquid to vapor, and so altering the specific gravity as to\ntransfer what was on the deep to the level of the mountain-tops. It is\nthe Pacific that climbs and crowns the Andes, resuming on the way the\nliquid state in the shape of clouds, and as it settles crystallizing\ninto solid snow and ice. The original set of solar rays have now played\ntheir part, and made their escape elsewhere. But there is sunshine among\nthe glaciers too, which soon begins to resolve the knot that has been\ntied, and restore what has been stolen. It sets free the waters that\nhave been locked up, and lets their gravitation have its play upon their\nflow. As they dash through ravines, or linger in the plains, they steal\ninto the roots of grass and tree, and by the tribute which they leave\npass into the new shape of _vital_ force. And if they pass the\nhomesteads of industry, and raise the food of a civilized people, who\ncan deny that they contribute not only to the organic, but to the\n_mental_ life, and so have run the whole circuit from the lowest to the\nhighest phase of power? That the return back may be traced from the\nhighest to the lowest, is shown by every effort of thought and will;\nwhich through the medium of nervous energy in one direction sets in\naction the levers of the limbs, and in another works the laboratory of\nthe organic life, and forms new chemical compounds, of which some are\nreserved for use, while others pass into the air as waste. Still\nfurther: all doubt of identity in the force which masks itself in these\nvarious shapes is said to be removed by the test of direct measurement\nbefore and after the change. The heating of a pound of water by one\ndegree has its exact mechanical equivalent;[13] and a given store of\nelevated temperature will overcome the same weights, whether applied\ndirectly to lift them, or turned first into a thermo-electric current,\nso as to perform its task by deputy.[14] The inference drawn from the\nphenomena of which these are samples is no less than this: that each\nkind of force is convertible into any other, and undergoes neither gain\nnor loss upon the way; so that the sum-total remains for ever the same,\nand is only differently represented as the proportions change amongst\nthe different forms of life, and between the organic and the inorganic\nrealms. Hence arises the argument that, in having _any_ force, you have\nvirtually _all_; and that, assuming only material atoms as depositories\nof mechanical resistance and momentum, you can supply a universe with an\nexhaustive cosmogony, and dispense with the presence of Mind, except as\none of its phenomena.\n\n[Footnote 13: Viz., the fall of 772 lbs. through a foot. See Mr. Joule's\nExperiments in Grove's Correlation of Physical Forces, p. 34, 5th ed.]\n\n[Footnote 14: See Grove's Correlation, p. 255, 5th ed.]\n\nTo test this argument, let us grant the data which are demanded, and\nimagine the primordial space charged with matter, in molecules or in\nmasses, in motion or rest, as you may prefer. Put it under the law of\ngravitation, and invest it with what varieties you please of density and\nform. Thus constituted, it perfectly fulfils all the conditions you have\nasked; it presses, it moves, it propagates and distributes impulse, is\nliable to acceleration and retardation, and exhibits all the phenomena\nwith which any treatise on Mechanics can properly deal. In order,\nhowever, to keep the problem clear within its limits, let us have it in\nthe simplest form, and conceive the atoms to be all of _gold_; then, I\nwould fain learn by what step the hypothesis proposes to effect its\npassage to the _chemical_ forces and their innumerable results. _Heat_\nit may manage to reach by the friction and compression of the materials\nat its disposal; and its metal universe may thus have its solid, liquid,\nand gaseous provinces; but, beyond these varieties, its homogeneous\nparticles cannot advance the history one hair's breadth through an\neternity. It is not true, then, that the conditions which give the first\ntype of force suffice to promote it to the second; and in order to start\nthe world on its chemical career, you must enlarge its capital and\npresent it with an outfit of _heterogeneous_ constituents. Try,\ntherefore, the effect of such a gift; fling into the pre-existing\ncaldron the whole list of recognized elementary substances, and give\nleave to their affinities to work: we immediately gain an immense\naccession to our materials for the architecture and resources for the\nchanges of the world,--the water and the air, the salts of the ocean,\nand the earthy or rocky compounds that compose the crust of the globe,\nand the variable states of magnetism and heat, which throw the\ncombinations into slow though constant change. But with all your\nenlargement of data, turn them as you will, at the end of every passage\nwhich they explore, the _door of life_ is closed against them still; and\nthough more than once it has been proclaimed that a way has been found\nthrough, it has proved that the living thing was on the wrong side to\nbegin with. It is not true, therefore, that, from the two earlier stages\nof force, the ascent can be made to the vital level; the ethereal fire\nyet remains in Heaven; and philosophy has not stretched forth the\nPromethean arm that can bring it down. And if, once more, we make you a\npresent of this third phase of power, and place at your disposal all\nthat is contained beneath and within the flora of the world, still your\nproblem is no easier than before; you cannot take a single step towards\nthe deduction of sensation and thought: neither at the upper limit do\nthe highest plants (the exogens) transcend themselves and overbalance\ninto animal existence; nor at the lower, grope as you may among the\nsea-weeds and sponges, can you persuade the sporules of the one to\ndevelop into the other. It is again not true, therefore, that, in virtue\nof the convertibility of force, the possession of any is the possession\nof the whole: we give you all the forms but one; and that one looks\ncalmly down on your busy evolutions, and remains inaccessible. Is, then,\nthe transmigration of forces altogether an illusion? By no means; but\nbefore one can exchange with another, _both must be there_; and to turn\ntheir equivalence into a universal formula, _all_ must be there. With\nonly one kind of elementary matter, there can be no chemistry; with\nonly the chemical elements and their laws, no life; with only vital\nresources, as in the vegetable world, no beginning of mind. But let\nThought and Will with their conditions once be there, and they will\nappropriate vital power; as life, once in possession, will ply the\nalembics and the test-tubes of its organic laboratory; and chemical\naffinity is no sooner on the field than it plays its game among the\ncohesions of simple gravitation. Hence it is impossible to work the\ntheory of Evolution upwards from the bottom. If all force is to be\nconceived as One, its type must be looked for in the highest and\nall-comprehending term; and Mind must be conceived as there, and as\ndivesting itself of some specialty at each step of its descent to a\nlower stratum of law, till represented at the base under the guise of\nsimple Dynamics. Or, if you retain the forces in their plurality, then\nyou must _assume_ them _all_ among your data, and confess, with one of\nthe greatest living expositors of the phenomena of Development, that\nunless among your primordial elements you scatter already the germs of\nmind as well as the inferior elements, the Evolution can never be\nwrought out.[15] But surely a theory, which is content simply to assume\nin the germ whatever it has to turn out full-grown, throws no very\nbrilliant light on the genesis of the Universe.\n\n[Footnote 15: Lotze's Mikrokosmus, B. iv. Kap. 2, Band ii. 33, seqq.]\n\nii. The second and principal support of the doctrine under review is\nfound in the realm of natural history, and in that province of it which\nis occupied by _living beings_. Here, it is said, in the field of\nobservation nearest to us, we have evidence of a power in each nature to\npush itself and gain ground, as against all natures less favorably\nconstituted. There is left open to it a certain range of possible\nvariations from the type of its present individuals, of which it may\navail itself in any direction that may fortify its position; and even if\nits own instincts did not seize at once the line of greatest strength,\nstill, out of its several tentatives, all the feeble results would fail\nto win a footing, and only the residuary successes would make good their\nground. The ill-equipped troops of rival possibilities being always\nrouted, however often they return, the well-armed alone are seen upon\nthe field, and the world is in possession of \"the fittest to live.\" We\nthus obtain a principle of self-adjusting adaptation of each being to\nits condition, without resorting to a designing care disposing of it\nfrom without; and its development is an experimental escape from past\nweakness, not a pre-conceived aim at a future perfection.\n\nI have neither ability nor wish to criticise the particular indications\nof this law, drawn with an admirable patience and breadth of research,\nfrom every department of animated nature. Though the logical structure\nof the proof does not seem to me particularly solid, and the\ndisproportion between the evidence and the conclusion is of necessity so\nenormous as to carry us no further than the discussion of an hypothesis,\nyet, for our present purpose, the thesis may pass as if established; and\nour scrutiny may be directed only to its bearings, should it be true.\n\n(1) The genius of a country which has been the birthplace and chief home\nof Political Economy is naturally pleased by a theory of this kind;\nwhich invests its favorite lord and master, _Competition_, with an\nimperial crown and universal sway. But let us not deceive ourselves with\nmere abstract words and abbreviations, as if they could reform a world\nor even farm a sheep-walk. _Competition_ is not, like a primitive\nfunction of nature, an independent and original power, which can of\nitself do any thing: the term only describes a certain intensifying of\npower already there; making the difference, under particular conditions,\nbetween function latent and function exercised. It may therefore turn\nthe less into the more; and it is reasonable to attribute to it an\n_increment_ to known and secured effects; but not new and unknown\neffects, for which else there is no provision. It gives but a partial\nand superficial account of the phenomena with which it has concern; of\ntheir degree; of their incidence here or there; of their occurrence now\nor then: of themselves in their characteristics it pre-supposes, and\ndoes not supply, the cause. To that cause, then, let us turn. Let us\nconsider what must be upon the field, before competition can arise.\n\n(2) It cannot act except in the presence of some _possibility of a\nbetter or worse_. A struggle out of relative disadvantage implies that a\nrelative advantage is within grasp,--that there is a prize of promotion\noffered for the contest. The rivalry of beings eager for it is but an\ninstrument for _making the best of things_; and only when flung into the\nmidst of an indeterminate variety of alternative conditions can it find\nany scope. When it gets there and falls to work, what does it help us to\naccount for? It accounts certainly for the triumph and _survivorship of\nthe better_, but not for there _being a better to survive_. _Given_, the\nslow and the swift upon the same course, it makes it clear that the race\nwill be to the swift; but it does not provide the fleeter feet by which\nthe standard of speed is raised. Nay more; even for the prevalence of\nthe better (\"or fitter to live\") it would not account, except on the\nassumption that whatever is _better_ is _stronger_ too; and a universe\nin which this rule holds already indicates its divine constitution, and\nis pervaded by an ideal power unapproached by the forces of necessity.\nThus the law of \"natural selection,\" instead of dispensing with anterior\ncausation and enabling the animal races to be their own Providence and\ndo all their own work, distinctly testifies to a constitution of the\nworld pre-arranged for progress, externally spread with large choice of\nconditions, and with internal provisions for seizing and realizing the\nbest. On such a world, rich in open possibilities, of beauty, strength,\naffection, intellect, and character, they are planted and set free;\ncharged with instincts eagerly urging them to secure the preferable line\nof each alternative; and disposing themselves, by the very conditions of\nequilibrium, into a natural hierarchy, in which the worthiest to live\nare in the ascendant, and the standard of life is for ever rising. What\ncan look more like the field of a directing Will intent upon the good?\nIndeed, the doctrine of \"natural selection\" owes a large part of its\nverisimilitude to its skilful imitation of the conditions and method of\nFree-will;--the indeterminate varieties of possible movement; the\npresentation of these before a selective power; the determination of the\nproblem by fitness for preference,--all these are features that would\nbelong no less to the administration of a presiding Mind; and that,\ninstead of resorting for the last solution to this high arbitrament, men\nof science should suppose it to be blindly fought out by the competing\ncreatures, as if they were supreme, is one of the marvels which the\nprofessional intellect, whatever its department, more often exhibits\nthan explains.\n\n(3) But, before competition can arise, there must be, besides the field\nof favorable possibility, _desire or instinct_ to lay hold of its\nopportunities. Here it is that we touch the real dynamics of evolution,\nwhich rivalry can only bring to a somewhat higher pitch. Here, it must\nbe admitted, there is at work a genuine principle of progression, the\nlimits of which it is difficult to fix. Every being which is so far\nindividuated as to be a separate centre of sensation, and of the\nbalancing active spontaneity, is endowed with a self-asserting power,\ncapable, on the field already supposed, of becoming a self-advancing\npower. Under its operation, there is no doubt, increasing\ndifferentiation of structure and refinement of function may be expected\nto emerge; nor is there any reason, except such as the facts of natural\nhistory may impose, why this process should be arrested at the\nboundaries of the species recognized in our present classifications.\nPossibly, if the slow increments of complexity in the organs of sentient\nbeings on the globe were all mapped out before us, the whole teeming\nmultitudes now peopling the land, the waters, and the air, might be seen\nradiating from a common centre in lines of various divergency, and,\nhowever remote their existing relations, might group themselves as one\nfamily. The speculative critic must here grant without stint all that\nthe scheme of development can ask; and he must leave it to the\nnaturalist and physiologist to break up the picture into sections, if\nthey must. But then, _Why_ must he grant it? Because here, having\ncrossed the margin of animal life, we have, in its germ of feeling and\nidea, not merely a persistent, but a self-promoting force, able to turn\nto account whatever is below it; the mental power, even in its\nrudiments, dominating the vital, and constraining it to weave a finer\norganism; and, for that end, to amend its application of the chemical\nforces, and make them better economize their command of mechanical\nforce. Observe, however, that, if here we meet with a truly fruitful\nagency, capable of accomplishing difficult feats of new combination and\ndelicate equilibrium, we meet with it _here first_; and the moment we\nfall back from the line of sentient life, and quit the scene of this\neager, aggressive, and competing power, we part company with all\nprinciple of progress; and consequently lose the tendency to that\nincreasing complexity of structure and subtlety of combination which\ndistinguish the organic from the inorganic compounds. Below the level of\nlife, there is no room for the operation of \"natural selection.\" Its\nplace is there occupied by another principle, for which no such wonders\nof constructive adaptation can be claimed;--I mean, the dynamic rule of\n_Action on the line of least resistance_,--a rule, the working of which\nis quite in the opposite direction. For evidently it goes against the\nestablishment of unstable conditions of equilibrium, and must therefore\nbe the enemy rather than the patron of the complex ingredients, the\nprecarious tissues, and the multiplied relations, of sentient bodies;\nand on its own theatre must prevent the permanent formation of any but\nthe simpler unions among the material elements. Accordingly, all the\ngreat enduring masses that form and fill the architecture of inorganic\nnature,--its limestone and clay, its oxides and salts, its water and\nair,--are compounds, or a mixture, of few and direct constituents. And\nthe moment that life retreats and surrenders the organism it has built\nand held, the same antagonist principle enters on possession, and sets\nto work to destroy the intricate structure of \"proximate principles\"\nwith their \"compound radicals.\" With life and mind therefore there\nbegins, whether by modified affinities or by removal of waste, a\n_tension_ against these lower powers, carrying the being up to a greater\nor less height upon the wing; but with life it ends, leaving him then to\nthe perpetual gravitation that completes the loftiest flight upon the\nground. Within the limits of her Physics and Chemistry alone, Nature\ndiscloses no principle of progression, but only provisions for\nperiodicity; and out of this realm, without further resources, she could\nnever rise.\n\nThe downward tendency which sets in with any relaxation of the\ndifferentiating forces of life is evinced, not only in the extreme case\nof dissolution in death, but in the well-known relapse of organs which\nhave been artificially developed into exceptional perfection back into\ntheir earlier state, when relieved of the strain and left to themselves.\nUnder the tension of a directing mental interest, whether supplied by\nthe animal's own instincts or by the controlling care of man, the\norganism yields itself to be moulded into more special and highly\nfinished forms; and a series of ascending variations withdraws the\nnature from its original or first-known type. But wherever we can lift\nthe tension off, the too skilful balance proves unstable, and the law of\nreversion reinstates the simpler conditions. Only on the higher levels\nof life do we find a self-working principle of progression: and, till we\nreach them, development wants its dynamics; and, though there may be\nevolution, it cannot be self-evolution.\n\nThese considerations appear to me to break the back of this formidable\nargument in the middle; and to show the impossibility of dispensing with\nthe presence of Mind in any scene of ascending being, where the little\nis becoming great, and the dead alive, and the shapeless beautiful, and\nthe sentient moral, and the moral spiritual. Is it not in truth a\nstrange choice, to set up \"_Evolution_,\" of all things, as the negation\nof _Purpose_ pre-disposing what is to come? For what does the word mean,\nand whence is it borrowed? It means, to unfold from within; and it is\ntaken from the history of the seed or embryo of living natures. And what\nis the seed but a casket of pre-arranged futurities, with its whole\ncontents _prospective_, settled to be what they are by reference to ends\nstill in the distance. If a grain of wheat be folded in a mummy-cloth\nand put into a catacomb, its germ for growing and its albumen for\nfeeding sleep side by side, and never find each other out. But no sooner\ndoes it drop, thousands of years after, on the warm and moistened field,\nthan their mutual play begins, and the plumule rises and lives upon its\nstore till it is able to win its own maintenance from the ground. Not\nonly are its two parts therefore relative to each other, but both are\nrelative to conditions lying in another department of the world,--the\nclouds, the atmosphere, the soil; in the absence of which they remain\nbarren and functionless:--and _this_, from a Cause that has no sense of\nrelation! The human ear, moulded in the silent matrix of nature, is\nformed with a nerve susceptible to one influence alone, and that an\nabsent one, the undulations of a medium into which it is not yet born;\nand, in anticipation of the whole musical scale with all its harmonies,\nfurnishes itself with a microscopic grand-piano of three thousand\nstretched strings, each ready to respond to a different and definite\nnumber of aerial vibrations:--and _this_, from a Cause that never meant\nto bring together the inner organ and the outer medium, now hidden from\neach other! The eye, shaped in the dark, selects an exclusive\nsensibility to movements propagated from distant skies; and so weaves\nits tissues, and disposes its contents, and hangs its curtains, and\nadjusts its range of motion, as to meet every exigency of refraction and\ndispersion of the untried light, and be ready to paint in its interior\nthe whole perspective of the undreamed world without:--and _this_, from\na Cause incapable of having an end in view! Surely, nothing can be\nevolved that is not first involved; and if there be any thing which not\nonly carries a definite future in it, but has the whole _rationale_ of\nits present constitution grounded in that future, it is the embryo,\nwhence, by a strange humor, this denial of final causes has chosen to\nborrow its name. Not more certainly is the statue that has yet to be,\nalready potentially contained in the pre-conception and sketches of the\nartist, than the stately tree of the next century in the beech-mast that\ndrops upon the ground; or the whole class of Birds, if you give them a\ncommon descent, in the eggs to which you choose to go back as first; or\nthe entire system of nature in any germinal cell or other prolific\n_minimum_ whence you suppose its organism to have been brought out.\nEvolution and Prospection are inseparable conceptions. Go back as you\nwill, and try to propel the movement from behind instead of drawing it\nfrom before, development in a definite direction towards the realization\nof a dominant scheme of ascending relations is the sway of an overruling\nend. To take away the ideal basis of nature, yet construe it by the\nanalogy of organic growth, will be for ever felt as a contradiction. It\nis to put out the eyes of the Past, in order to show us with what secure\nprecision, amid distracting paths, and over chasms bridged by a hair, it\nselects its way into the Future.\n\nIf the Divine Idea will not retire at the bidding of our speculative\nscience, but retains its place, it is natural to ask, what is its\nrelation to the series of so-called Forces in the world? But the\nquestion is too large and deep to be answered here. Let it suffice to\nsay, that there need not be any _overruling_ of these forces by the will\nof God, so that the supernatural should disturb the natural; or any\n_supplementing_ of them, so that He should fill up their deficiencies.\nRather is His Thought related to them as, in Man, the mental force is\nrelated to all below it; turning them all to account for ideal ends, and\nsustaining the higher equilibrium which else would lapse into lower\nforms. More truly, yet equivalently, might we say, these supposed\nforces, which are only our intellectual interpretation of classes of\nperceived phenomena, are but varieties of His Will, the rules and\nmethods of His determinate and legislated agency, in which, to keep\nfaith with the universe of beings, He abnegates all change; but beyond\nwhich, in His transcendent relations with dependent and responsible\nminds, He has left a glorious margin for the free spiritual life, open\nto the sacredness of Personal Communion, and the hope of growing\nsimilitude.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RELATIONS\n\nOF\n\nETHICS AND THEOLOGY.\n\nBy ANDREW P. PEABODY.\n\n\nMy subject is the mutual relations of Ethics and Theology.\n\nEthics is the science of the Right; and we would first inquire whether\nthis science is a mere department of theology, or whether it has its own\nindependent existence, sphere, and office. Our opening question then is:\nWhat is the ground of right? Why are certain acts right, and certain\nother acts wrong? Are these characteristics incidental, arbitrary,\ncreated by circumstances; variable with time or place, or the\nintelligence of the agent; contingent on legislation, human or Divine?\nOr are they intrinsic, essential, independent of command, even of the\nDivine command?\n\nWe can best answer this question by considering what is implied in\nexistence. Existence implies properties, and properties are fitnesses.\nEvery object, by virtue of its existence, has its place, purpose, uses,\nrelations. At every moment, each specific object is either in or out of\nits place, fulfilling or not fulfilling its purpose, subservient to or\nalienated from its uses, in accordance or out of harmony with its\nrelations, and therefore in a state of fitness or of unfitness as\nregards other objects. Every object is at every moment under the control\nof the intelligent will either of the Supreme Being or of some finite\nbeing, and is by that will maintained either in or out of its place,\npurpose, uses, and relations, and thus in a state of fitness or\nunfitness as regards other objects. Every intelligent being, by virtue\nof his existence, bears certain definite relations to outward objects,\nhis fellow-beings, and his Creator. At every moment each intelligent\nbeing is either faithful or unfaithful to these relations, and thus in a\nstate of fitness or unfitness as regards outward objects and other\nbeings. Thus fitness or unfitness may be predicated at every moment of\nevery object in existence, of the volitions by which each object is\ncontrolled, and of every intelligent being with regard to his voluntary\nposition in the universe. Fitness and unfitness are the ultimate ideas\nthat underlie the terms _right_ and _wrong_. These last are metaphorical\nterms: right, _rectus_, straight, upright, according to rule, and\ntherefore _fit_; wrong, _wrung_, distorted, twisted out of place,\nabnormal, and therefore _unfit_. We are so constituted that we cannot\nhelp regarding fitness with esteem and complacency; unfitness, with\ndisesteem and disapproval, even though we ourselves create it or\nimpersonate it.\n\nFitness is the law by which alone we have the knowledge of sin, by which\nalone we justify or condemn ourselves. Duty has fitness for its only aim\nand end. To whatever object comes under our control its fit place or use\nis due; and our perception of that _due_ constitutes our _duty_, and\nawakens in us a sense of obligation. To ourselves and to other beings\nand objects, our fidelity to our relations has in it an intrinsic\nfitness; that fitness is their and our due; and the perception of that\n_due_ constitutes our _duty_, and awakens in us a sense of obligation.\n\nConscience is the faculty by which we perceive fitness or unfitness. Its\nfunctions are not cognitive, but judicial. Its decisions are based upon\nour knowledge, real or imagined, from whatever source derived. It judges\naccording to such law and evidence as it has; and its verdict is always,\nrelatively, a genuine _verdict_ (_verum dictum_), though potentially\nfalse and wrong by defect of our knowledge,--even as in a court of law\nan infallibly wise and incorruptibly just judge may pronounce an utterly\nerroneous and unjust decision, if he have before him a false statement\nof facts, or if the law which he is compelled to administer be\nunrighteous. What we call the education of conscience is merely the\naccumulation and verification of the materials on which conscience is to\nact; in fine, the discovery of fitnesses.\n\nPermit me to illustrate the function of conscience by reference to a\nquestion now mooted in our community,--the question as to the moral\nfitness of the temperate use of fermented liquors. Among the aborigines\nof Congo and Dahomey, there being no settled industry, no mental\nactivity, and no hygienic knowledge as to either body or mind, it seems\nfitting, and therefore right, to swallow all the strong drink that they\ncan lay their hands upon; for it is fitted to produce immediate animal\nenjoyment,--the only good of which they have cognizance. Among civilized\nmen, on the contrary, intoxication is universally known to be opposed to\nthe fitnesses of body and mind, an abuse of alcoholic liquors, and an\nabuse of the drinker's own personality; and it is therefore condemned by\nall consciences, by none more heartily than by those of its victims.\nBut there still remains open the question as to the moderate use of\nfermented liquors; and this is not, as it is commonly called, a question\nof conscience, but a mere question of fact,--of fitness or unfitness.\nSays one party, \"Alcohol, in every form, and in the least quantity, is a\nvirulent poison, and therefore unfit for body and mind.\" Says the other\nparty, \"Wine, moderately used, is healthful, salutary, restorative, and\ntherefore fitted to body and mind.\" Change the opinion of the latter\nparty, their consciences would at once take the other side; and, if they\nretained in precept and practice their present position, they would\nretain it self-condemned. Change the opinion of the former party, their\nconsciences would assume the ground which they now assail. Demonstrate\nto the whole community--which physiology may one day do--the precise\ntruth in this matter, there would remain no differences of conscientious\njudgment, whatever difference of practice might still continue.\n\nFrom what has been said, it is necessarily inferred that right and wrong\nare not contingent on the knowledge of the moral agent. Unfitness,\nmisuse, abuse, is none the less wrong because the result of ignorance.\nIf the result of inevitable ignorance, it does not indeed imply an\nunfitness or derangement of the agent's own moral powers. Yet it is none\nthe less out of harmony with the fitness of things. It deprives an\nobject of its due use. It perverts to pernicious results what is\nsalutary in its purpose. It lessens for the agent his aggregate of good\nand of happiness, and increases for him his aggregate of evil and of\nmisery. In this sense--far more significant than that of arbitrary\ninfliction--the maxim of jurisprudence, _Ignorantia legis neminem\nexcusat_ (\"Ignorance of the law excuses no one\"), is a fundamental\nprinciple of human nature.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe are now prepared to consider the relation of moral distinctions to\ntheology. In the first place, if the ground which I have maintained be\ntenable, ethical science rests on a basis of its own, wholly independent\nof theology. Right and wrong, as moral distinctions, in no wise depend\non the Divine will and law; nay, not even on the Divine existence. The\natheist cannot escape or disown them. They are inseparable from\nexistence. For whatever exists, no matter how it came into being, must\nneeds have its due place, affinities, adaptations, uses; and an\nintelligent dweller among the things that are cannot but know something\nof their fitnesses and harmonies, and, so far as he acts upon them,\ncannot but feel the obligation to recognize their fitnesses, and thus to\ncreate or restore their harmonies. Even to the atheist, vice is a\nviolation of fitnesses which he knows or may know. It is opposed to his\nconscientious judgment. He has with regard to it an inevitable sense of\nwrong. I can therefore conceive of an atheist's being--though I should\nhave little hope that he would be--a rigidly virtuous man, and that on\nprinciple.\n\nBut while atheism does not obliterate moral distinctions, or cancel\nmoral obligation, these distinctions are a refutation of atheism; and\nfrom the very fitness of things, which we have seen to be the ground of\nright, we draw demonstrative evidence of the being, unity, and moral\nperfectness of the Creator: so that the fundamental truths of theology\nrest on the same basis with the fundamental principles of ethics. Let me\nask you to pursue this argument with me.\n\nEvery object, as I have said, must, by virtue of its existence, have its\nfit place and use; but, in a world that was the dice-work of chance,\nthere would be myriads of probabilities to one against any specific\nobject's attaining to its fit place and use. This must be the work of\nwill alone. If chance can create, it cannot combine, co-ordinate,\norganize. If it can throw letters on the ground by the handful, it\ncannot arrange them into the Iliad or the Paradise Lost. If it can stain\nthe sky or the earth with gorgeous tints, it cannot group them into a\nMadonna or a landscape. Its universe would be peopled by straylings,\nfull of disjointed halves of pairs,--of objects thrown together in such\nchaotic heaps that seldom could any one object find its counterpart or\nsubserve its end.\n\nThe opposite is the case in the actual world. The first discoveries\nwhich the first human being made were of the fitnesses of the objects\naround him to himself and to one another. With every added year his\nmicrocosm enlarged, so that, before he left the world, he had within his\ncognizance a range of fitnesses and uses sufficient to guide his own\nactivity, and to enable him to predict its results, together with\nnumerous other results not contingent on his own agency. Beyond this\nmicrocosm, indeed, lay a vast universe impenetrable to his search, in\nwhich he could trace no relations, no filaments of order; in which all\nseemed to him a medley of chaotic confusion, mutually intruding systems,\nclashing and jarring forces. On this realm of the unknown man has ever\nsince been making perpetual aggressions; and every step of his progress\nhas been the discovery of fitnesses, relations, reciprocal uses, among\nthe most remote, diverse, and at first sight mutually hostile objects,\nclasses, and systems. Natural history, physics, and chemistry, are the\nscience of mutual fitnesses and uses among terrestrial objects.\nAstronomy is the science of harmonies among all the worlds,--of\nfitnesses in their relations and courses to the condition of things in\nour own planet, approximately to other bodies in the solar system, and,\nby ascertained analogies, to those distant orbs of which we know only\nthat they stand and move ever in their order. Geology is the science of\nmutual fitnesses in former epochs and conditions of our own planet, and\nof prospective fitnesses in them to the needs and uses of the present\nepoch; so that by harmonies which run through unnumbered \u00e6ons we are the\nheirs, and sustain our industries by the usufruct, of the ages, the\ngreat moments of whose history we are just beginning to read.\nMathematical science reveals geometrical and numerical fitnesses,\nproportions, and harmonies, which are traced alike in the courses of the\nstars and in the collocation of the foliage on the tree, and which\npromise one day to give us the equation of the curve of the sea-shell,\nof the contour of the geranium-leaf, of the crest of the wave. There is\nstill around us the realm of the unknown; yet not only are daily\naggressions made upon it, but science has advanced so far as to render\nit certain that there is no department or object in the universe, which\nis not comprehended in this system of mutual fitnesses, harmonies, and\nuses.\n\nNow consider the relation of organized being to this system. What is an\norgan? It is the capacity of perceiving, choosing, and utilizing a\nfitness. The rootlets of the tree by the river-side perceive the\nadjacent water, elongate themselves toward it, in a drought make\nconvulsive and successful efforts to reach it; while the corolla of the\nheliotrope perceives the calorific rays, and turns toward their source\nin the heavens. The organs of the plant select from the elements around\nit such substances as are fitted to feed its growth, and appropriate\nthem to its use, even though they be found in infinitesimal\nproportions, in masses of alien substance. In all this there is a\nsemi-self-consciousness, corresponding, not indeed to the action of\nmind, but to that of the spontaneous life-processes in intelligent\nbeings.\n\nThe animal carries us a step higher. His instincts are an unerring\nknowledge of fitnesses and uses within his sphere. He seeks what is\nfitted, shuns what is unfitted to his sustenance and growth, is never\ndeceived when left to his own sagacity, and fails only when brought into\nanomalous relations with the superior knowledge of man. He lives, merely\nbecause he is conscious of the fitnesses of nature, and yields up his\nlife to a stronger beast, in accordance with those same\nfitnesses--beneficent still--by which all realms of nature are kept\nfully stocked, yet never overstocked, with healthy and rejoicing life.\n\nThe fitness which thus pervades and unifies the entire creation, man as\nan animal perceives, as a living soul recognizes and comprehends; and to\nhis consciousness it is an imperative law, obeyed always with\nself-approval, disobeyed only with self-condemnation. Of disobedience he\nalone is capable, yet he but partially. In order to live, he must obey\nin the vast majority of instances; still more must he obey, if he would\nhave society, physical comfort, transient enjoyment of however low a\ntype; and the most depraved wretch that walks the earth purchases his\ncontinued being by a thousand acts of unintended yet inevitable\nobedience to one of voluntary guilt. Man's law--the law which, in\nviolating or scorning it, he cannot ignore or evade--is the very same\nfitness which runs through all inorganic nature, and which the\nsemi-conscious tree, shrub, or flower, the imperfectly self-conscious\nbird, fish, or beast uniformly obeys.\n\nNow can chance have evolved this universal fitness, and the souls that\nown their allegiance to it? Is it not the clear self-revelation of a\nGod, one, all-wise, omnipotent? Has it any other possible solution?\nBears it not, in inscriptions that girdle the universe in letters of\nlight, the declarations of the Hebrew seer, \"In the beginning God\ncreated the heavens and the earth,\" and \"The Lord our God is one Lord\"?\nI am not disposed to cavil at the argument from design in the structure\nand adaptations of any one organized being; but immeasurably more cogent\nis this argument from a consenting universe, in which filaments of\nfitness, relation, and use cross and recross one another from bound to\nbound, from sun to star, from star to earth, from the greatest to the\nleast, from the order of the heavens to the zo\u00f6phyte and the microscopic\nanimalcule. In the human conscience I recognize at once the revelation\nand the perpetual witness of this all-pervading adaptation, this\nuniversal harmony. Conscience is the God within, not in figure, but in\nfact. It is the mode in which He who is enshrined in all being, who\nlives in all life, takes up his abode, holds his perpetual court, erects\nhis eternal judgment-seat, within the human soul.\n\nWe pass to the consideration of the moral attributes of the Creator. I\nhave spoken of moral distinctions as logically separable from and\nindependent of the Divine nature. From this position alone can we\nestablish the holiness, justice, and mercy of the Divine Being. In\norder to show this, let me ask your attention to the distinction\nbetween necessary and contingent truths; that is, between truths which\nhave an intrinsic validity, which always were and cannot by any\npossibility be otherwise than true, and truths which were made true,\nwhich began to be, and the opposite of which might have been.\nMathematical truth is necessary and absolute truth,--not made truth even\nby the ordinance of the Supreme Being, but truth from the very nature of\nthings, truth co-eternal with God. Omnipotence cannot make two and two\nfive, or render the sum of the angles of a triangle more or less than\ntwo right angles, or construct a square and a circle of both equal\nperimeter and equal surface. In our conception of mathematical truth we\nare conscious that it must have been true before all worlds, and would\nbe equally true had no substance that could be measured or calculated\never been created. Every mathematical proposition is an inherent\nproperty or condition of the infinite space identical with the Divine\nomnipresence, or of the infinite duration identical with the Divine\neternity.\n\nMoral truth is of the same order, not contingent, but necessary,\nabsolute. This is distinctly declared in one of the most sublime bursts\nof inspiration in the Hebrew Scriptures. If you will trace in the book\nof Proverbs the traits of Wisdom as personified throughout the first\nnine chapters, you will find that it is no other than a name for the\ninherent, immutable, eternal distinction between right and wrong. It is\nthis Wisdom, who, so far from confessing herself as created, ordained,\nor subject, proclaims, \"Jehovah possessed me in the beginning of his\nway, before his works of old. I was set up from everlasting, from the\nbeginning, or ever the earth was.... When he prepared the heavens, I\nwas there.... When he appointed the foundations of the earth, then I was\nby him, AS ONE BROUGHT UP WITH HIM; and I was daily his delight,\nrejoicing always before him.\"\n\nIt is only on the principle thus vividly set forth that we can affirm\nmoral attributes of the Supreme Being. When we say that He is perfectly\njust, pure, holy, beneficent, we recognize a standard of judgment\nlogically independent of his nature. We mean that the law of fitness,\nwhich He promulgates in the human conscience, and which is our only\nstandard of right, is the self-elected law of his own being. Could we\nconceive of omnipotence and omniscience devoid of moral attributes, the\ndecrees and acts of such a being would not be necessarily right.\nOmnipotence cannot make the wrong right, or the right wrong; nor can it\nindue either with the tendencies of the other, so that the wrong, that\nis, the unfitting, should produce ultimate good, or the right, that is,\nthe fitting, should produce ultimate evil. God's decrees and acts are\nnot right because they are his; but they are his because they are right.\nOn no other ground, as I have said, can we affirm moral attributes of\nhim. If his arbitrary sovereignty can indue with the characteristics of\nright that which has no intrinsic fitness, beauty, or utility, then the\naffirmation that He is holy, or just, or good, is simply equivalent to\nthe absurd maxim of human despotism, \"The king can do no wrong.\" It is\nonly when we conceive of the abstract right as existing of necessity\nfrom a past eternity, and as a category of the Divine free-will and\nperfect prescience, in which the creation had its birth and its\narchetypes, that holiness, justice, and goodness, as applied to the\nDivine character, have any meaning.\n\nWe thus see that our ethical conceptions underlie our theology, and\nthat, however explicit the words of revelation may be as to the Divine\nnature, he alone can understand them, who recognizes in his own heart\nthe absoluteness and immutableness of moral distinctions. How many\nChristians have there been in every age since the primitive, who, in\nusing the terms _just_ and _holy_ with reference to the Almighty, have\nemployed them in an entirely different sense from that in which they are\napplied to human conduct, and with regard to supposed dispositions and\nacts, which in man they would call unjust and cruel! And this simply\nbecause they have attached no determinate meaning, but only a\nconventional and variable sense to ethical terms, and have imagined that\narbitrary power could reverse moral distinctions, or that God could\nimpose on man one law of right, and himself recognize another.\n\nWe have thus seen that theology is indebted to the fundamental\nprinciples of ethics for the most luculent demonstration of the being,\nomnipotence, and omniscience of God, and for the clear conception of his\nmoral attributes.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe will now consider the reciprocal obligations of ethics to theology;\nand, in the first place, to Natural Religion. Pure theism attaches the\nDivine sanction to the verdicts of conscience, makes them the will, the\nvoice of God, enforces them by his authority, and elevates the\nconception of virtue by establishing a close kindred between the\nvirtuous man and the Ruler of the universe. And this is much, but not\nfor many. It has raised some elect spirits to a degree of excellence\nwhich might put Christians to shame. It has conjoined virtue with lofty\ndevotion and earnest piety in a Socrates and a Marcus Antoninus, and\nrefined it into a rare purity, chasteness, and tenderness of spirit in a\nPlutarch and an Epictetus. But on the masses of mankind, on the worldly\nand care-cumbered, on the unphilosophic and illiterate, it has exerted\nlittle or no influence. Moreover, while among the virtuous men of\npre-Christian times and beyond the light of the Jewish revelation, we\nrecognize some few of surpassing excellence, we find not a single\nethical system, or body of moral precepts, which does not contain\nlimitations, deficiencies, or enormities utterly revolting to the moral\nsense of Christendom. Thus Plato had lofty conceptions of virtue, but\nthere are directions in which his precepts give free license to lust and\ncruelty; and even Socrates sanctioned by his unrebuking intimacy and\nfondness the leaders and ornaments of the most dissolute society in\nAthens.\n\nThe acme of extra-Christian piety, and consequently of moral excellence,\nis presented in the writings and lives of the later Stoics, whose\nincorruptible virtue affords the only relief to our weariness and\ndisgust, as we trace the history of Rome through the profligacy of the\ndeclining commonwealth and the depravity of the empire. We find here the\nSimeons and Annas of the Pagan world, who, though with the fleshly arm\nthey embraced not the Son of God, needed but to see him to adore and\nlove him. Yet in nothing was Stoicism more faulty than in its exalted\nsense of virtue. For it had no charity for sin, no tolerance even for\nthe inferior forms of goodness. It was the ethics of the unfallen. It\nproffered no hope of forgiveness; it let down no helping hand from the\nheavens; it uttered no voice from the eternal silence; it opened no\nFather's house and arms for the penitent. In Moore's \"Lalla Rookh\" the\nPeri, promised forgiveness and readmission to Paradise on condition of\nbringing to the eternal gate the gift most dear to heaven, returns in\nvain with the last drop of the patriot's blood. Again, when she brings\nthe expiring sigh of the most faithful human love, the crystal bar moves\nnot. Once more she seeks the earth, and bears back the tear of penitence\nthat has fallen from a godless wretch melted into contrition by a\nchild's prayer; and for this alone the golden hinges turn. Stoicism\ncould boast in rich profusion the patriot's blood, could feed the torch\nof a love stronger than death; but it could not start the penitential\ntear,--it failed of the one gift of earth for which there is joy in\nheaven.\n\nLet us rise, then, from the purest philosophy of the old world to\nChristianity in its ethical relations and offices.\n\nChristianity, as a revelation, covers the entire field of human duty,\nand gives the knowledge of many fitnesses, recognized when once made\nknown, but undiscoverable by man's unaided insight. The two truths which\nlie at the foundation of Christian ethics are human brotherhood and the\nimmortality of the soul.\n\n1. _Human brotherhood._ The visible differences of race, color, culture,\nreligion, customs, are in themselves dissociating influences. Universal\ncharity is hardly possible while these differences occupy the\nforeground. Slavery was a natural and congenial institution under Pagan\nauspices, and the idea of a missionary enterprise transcends the\nbroadest philanthropy of heathenism. We find indeed in the ancient\nmoralists, especially in the writings of Cicero and Seneca, many\nprecepts of humanity toward slaves, but no clear recognition of the\ninjustice inseparable from the state of slavery; nor have we in all\nancient literature, unless it be in Seneca (in whom such sentiments\nmight have had more or less directly a Christian origin), a single\nexpression of a fellowship broad enough to embrace all diversities of\ncondition, much less of race.[16] Even Socrates, while he expects\nhimself to enter at death into the society of good men, and says that\nthose who live philosophically will approach the nature of the gods,\nexpresses the belief that worthy, industrious men who are not\nphilosophers will, on dying, migrate into the bodies of ants, bees, or\nother hard-working members of the lower orders of animals.\n\n[Footnote 16: The verse so often quoted from Terence, \"Homo sum; humani\nnihil a me alienum puto,\" will probably occur to many as inconsistent\nwith my statement. The sentiment of this verse is, indeed, as it stands\nby itself, truly Christian; but in the Comedy from which it is quoted,\nso far from having a philanthropic significance, it is merely a\nbusy-body's apology for impertinent interference with the concerns of\nhis neighbor.]\n\nThe fraternity of our entire race--even without involving the mooted\nquestion of a common human parentage--is through Christianity\nestablished, not only by the Divine fatherhood so constantly proclaimed\nand so luculently manifested by Jesus, but equally by the unifying\nministry of his death as a sacrifice for all, and by his parting\ncommitment of \"all the world\" and \"every creature\" to the propagandism\nof his disciples. Though the spirit of this revelation has not yet been\nembodied in any community, it has inspired the life-work of many in\nevery age; it has moulded reform and guided progress in social ethics\nthroughout Christendom; it has twice swept the civilized world clean\nfrom domestic slavery; it has shaken every throne, is condemning every\nform of despotism, monopoly, and exclusiveness, and gives clear presage\nof a condition in which the old pre-Christian division of society into\nthe preying and the preyed-upon will be totally obliterated.\n\n2. _The immortality of the soul_, also, casts a light, at once broad and\npenetrating, upon and into every department of duty; for it is obvious,\nwithout detailed statement, that the fitnesses, needs, and obligations\nof a terrestrial being of brief duration, and those of a being in the\nnursery and initial stage of an endless existence, are very wide\napart,--that the latter may find it fitting to do, seek, shun, omit,\nendure, resign, many things which to the former are very properly\nmatters of indifference. Immortality was, indeed, in a certain sense\nbelieved before Christ, but with feeble assurance, and with the utmost\nvagueness of conception; so that this belief can hardly be said to have\nexisted either as a criterion of duty or as a motive power. How small a\npart it bore in the ethics of the Stoic school may be seen, when we\nremember that Epictetus, than whom there was no better man, denied the\nlife beyond death; and in Marcus Antoninus immortality was rather a\ndevout aspiration than a fixed belief. In the Christian revelation, on\nthe other hand, the eternal life is so placed in the most intimate\nconnection with the life and character in this world as to cast its\nreflex lights and shadows on all earthly scenes and experiences.\n\nChristianity, in the next place, makes to us an ethical revelation in\nthe person and character of its Founder, exhibiting in him the very\nfitnesses which it prescribes, showing us, as it could not by mere\nprecepts, the proportions and harmonies of the virtues, and\nmanifesting the unapproached beauty, nay, majesty, of the gentler\nvirtues,--_virtutes leniores_, as Cicero calls them,--which in\npre-Christian ages were sometimes made secondary, sometimes repudiated\nwith contempt and derision.\n\nIt is, I know, among the commonplaces of the rationalism and secularism\nof our time, that the moral precepts of the Gospel were not original,\nbut had all been anticipated by Greek or Eastern sages. This is not\nliterally and wholly true; for in some of the most striking of the\nalleged instances there is precisely the same difference between the\nheathen and the Christian precept that there is between the Old\nTestament and the New. The former says, \"Thou shalt not;\" the latter,\n\"Thou shalt.\" The former forbids; the latter commands. The former\nprescribes abstinence from overt evil; the latter has for its sum of\nduty, \"Be thou perfect, as thy Father in heaven is perfect.\" But the\nstatement which I have quoted has more of truth in it than has been\nusually conceded by zealous champions of the Christian faith; and I\nwould gladly admit its full and entire truth, could I see sufficient\nevidence of it. The unqualified admission does not in the least detract\nfrom the pre-eminent worth of Him who alone has been the Living Law. So\nfar is this anticipation of his precepts by wise and good men before him\nfrom casting doubts on the divinity of his mission upon earth, that it\nonly confirms his claims upon our confidence. For the great laws of\nmorality are, as we have seen, as old as the throne of God; and strange\nindeed were it, had there been no intimation of them till the era of\ntheir perfect embodiment and full promulgation. The Divine Spirit,\nbreathing always and everywhere, could not have remained, without\nwitness of right, duty, and obligation in the outward universe and in\nthe human conscience. So, struggling through the mists of weltering\nchaos, were many errant light-beams; yet none the less glorious and\nbenignant was the sun, when in the clear firmament he first shone,\nall-illumining and all-guiding.\n\nBut in practical ethics a revelation of duty is but a small part of\nman's need. According to a Chinese legend, the founders of the three\nprincipal religious sects in the Celestial Empire, lamenting in the\nspirit-land the imperfect success which had attended the promulgation of\ntheir doctrines, agreed to return to the earth, and see if they could\nnot find some right-minded person by whose agency they might convert\nmankind to the integrity and purity which they had taught. They came in\ntheir wanderings to an old man, sitting by a fountain as its guardian.\nHe recalled to them the high moral tone of their several systems, and\nreproached them for the unworthy lives of their adherents. They agreed\nthat he was the very apostle they sought. But when they made the\nproposal to him, he replied, \"It is the upper part of me only that is\nflesh and blood: the lower part is stone. I can talk about virtue, but\ncannot follow its teachings.\" The sages saw in this man, half of stone,\nthe type of their race, and returned in despair to the spirit-land.\n\nThere is profound truth in this legend. It indicates at once the mental\nreceptivity and the moral inability of man, as to mere precepts of\nvirtue. It is not enough that we know the right. We know much better\nthan we do. The words which Ovid puts into the mouth of Medea, _Video\nmeliora, proboque, deteriora sequor_ (\"I see and approve the better, I\npursue the worse\"), are the formula of universal experience. We, most of\nall, need enabling power. This we have through Christianity alone. We\nhave it: 1. In the Divine fatherhood, as exhibited in those genial,\nwinning traits, in which Jesus verifies his saying, \"He that hath seen\nme hath seen the Father,\"--a fatherhood to feel which is to render glad\nand loving obedience to the Father's will and word; 2. In the adaptation\nof the love, sacrifice, and death of Christ to awaken the whole power of\nloving in the heart, and thus by the most cogent of motives to urge man\nto live no longer for himself, but for him who died for him; 3. In the\nassurance of forgiveness for past wrongs and omissions, without which\nthere could be little courage for future well-doing; 4. In the promise\nand realization of Divine aid in every right purpose and worthy\nendeavor; 5. In institutions and observances designed and adapted to\nperpetuate the memory of the salient facts, and to renew at frequent\nintervals the recognition of the essential truths, which give to our\nreligion its name, character, and efficacy.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThus, while right and obligation exist independently of revelation, and\neven of natural religion, Christianity alone enables us to discern the\nright in its entireness and its due proportions; and it alone supplies\nthe strength which we need, to make and keep us true to our obligations,\nunder the stress of appetite and passion, cupidity and selfishness,\nhuman fear and favor.\n\nMorality and religion, potentially separable, are yet inseparable in the\nwill of God, under the culture of Christ. It used to be common to place\nthe legal and the evangelical element in mutual antagonism. Nothing can\nbe more profane or absurd than this. That which is not legal is\nevangelical only in name and pretence. That which is not evangelical is\nlegal to no purpose. The religious belief or teaching, which lays not\nsupreme stress on the whole moral law, is an outrage on the Gospel and\nthe Saviour. The morality, which rests on any other foundation than\nJesus Christ and his religion, is built on the sand, the prey of the\nfirst onrush or inrush of wind or wave. \"What therefore God hath joined\ntogether, let not man put asunder.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHRISTIANITY:\n\nWHAT IT IS NOT, AND WHAT IT IS.\n\nBy G. VANCE SMITH.\n\n\nI.\n\nIn looking back upon the past history of Christianity, it is easy to\ntrace the existence of two very different ideas of the nature of that\nreligion. Their influence is discernible in what may be termed its\nincipient form, in perhaps the earliest period to which we can ascend,\nwhile it has been especially felt during the last three hundred years,\nas also it materially affects the position and relations of churches and\nsects at the present moment. From obvious characteristics of each, these\nideas may be respectively designated as the _ritualistic_, or\nsacerdotal, and the _dogmatic_, or doctrinal. It is scarcely necessary\nto add, that the two have been constantly intermingled and blended\ntogether, acting and reacting upon each other, and either supporting or\nelse thwarting each other with singular pertinacity. Neither of them is\nfound, in any instance of importance, existing wholly apart from the\nother, so as to be the sole animating principle of a great religious\norganization. The nature of the case renders this impossible.\nRitualistic observances cannot be rationally followed without dogmatic\nbeliefs. The former are the natural exponents of the latter, which\nindeed they are supposed to represent and to symbolize. Nor can\ndoctrinal creeds, again, wholly dispense with outward rites and forms.\nEven the most spiritual religion requires some outward medium of\nexpression, if it is to influence strongly either communities or\nindividuals. It must, therefore, tacitly or avowedly adopt something of\nthe dogmatic, if not of the ritualistic, idea, although this may not be\nput into express words, much less formed into a definite creed or test\nof orthodoxy.\n\nA common factor of the greatest importance enters into the two\nconceptions of Christianity just referred to, though not perhaps in\nequal measure. I allude to the moral element, which may also be denoted\nas the sense of duty,--duty towards God and towards man. It may, indeed,\nbe said to be a distinguishing glory of Christianity, that it can hardly\nexist at all, under whatever outward form, without being more or less\nstrongly pervaded by the moral spirit of which the ministry of Christ\naffords so rich and varied an expression. It is true, however, that the\nritualistic idea has constantly a tendency to degenerate into a mere\ncare for church observances, devoid of any high tone of uprightness and\npurity in the practical concerns of ordinary life. It is a common thing,\nin that great religious communion of Western and Southern Europe which\nis so strongly animated by this idea, to see people in the churches\nceremoniously kneeling in the act of prayer, while all the time they are\nbusy, with eager eyes, to follow every movement in the crowd around\nthem. In certain countries, many of the ritualistically devout, it is\nwell known, have no scruple in practising the grossest impositions upon\nstrangers; a statement which is especially true of those lands that in\nmodern times have been governed and demoralized beyond others by the\ninfluence of the priestly class, with their religion of material\nexternalities. A Greek or an Italian brigand, it is said, will rob and\nmurder his captive with a peaceful conscience, provided only that he\nduly confesses to the priest, and obtains his absolution. This last is a\ngross and, happily, a rare case. But, equally with the more innocent\nacts, it illustrates the natural tendencies of ritualistic Christianity\namong various classes of persons. In ordinary civilized society, such\ntendencies are kept powerfully in check by other influences. Hence it is\nnot to be denied that, throughout the Christian world, devotional\nfeeling and the sense of duty are usually deep and active in their\ninfluence, and that the practical teachings of Christ, directly or\nindirectly, exercise a potent control, whatever may be the ritualistic\nor the dogmatic idea with which they are associated.\n\nThe ritualistic conception now spoken of offers us a Christianity which\nsecures \"salvation,\" by the intervention of a priest,--a man who,\nthough, to all outward appearance, but a human being among human beings,\nyet alleges, and finds people to believe, that he can exercise\nsupernatural functions, and has the power of opening or closing the\ngates of heaven to his fellow-men. It is needless to say how large a\nportion of Christendom is still under the influence of this kind of\nsuperstition, or how pertinaciously the same unspiritual form of\nreligion is, at this moment, struggling to establish itself, even in the\nmidst of the most enlightened modern nations.\n\nNor is it necessary here to argue, with any detail, against the notion\nof its being either inculcated upon us within the pages of the New\nTestament, or enforced by any legitimate authority whatever. Probably\nno one who cares to hear or to read these words would seriously maintain\nthat the Gospel of Christ consists, in any essential way, in submission\nto a priesthood, fallible or infallible, in the observance of rites and\nceremonies or times and seasons, or in a particular mode or form of\nchurch government, whatever doctrines these may be supposed to embody or\nto symbolize. Such things have, indeed, variously prevailed among the\nChristian communities from the beginning. Generation after generation\nhas seen priests, and Popes, and patriarchs, and presbyters, without\nnumber. These personages have decked themselves out in sacred garments,\nassumed ecclesiastical dignities and powers, and sought, many of them,\nto heighten the charm and the efficacy of their worship by the aid of\naltars and sacrifices, so called, of prostrations, incense, lamps and\ncandles, and many other such outward accessories. But are such things to\nbe reckoned among the essentials of Christian faith or Christian\nrighteousness? Does the presence or the blessing of the Spirit of God,\nto the humble, penitent, waiting soul of man, depend upon any thing\nwhich one calling himself a priest can do or say for us? Will any one,\nwhose opinion is worth listening to, say that it does?\n\nThe teaching of Christ and his Apostles is, in truth, remarkably devoid\nof every idea of this kind. So much is this the case, that it may well\nbe matter of astonishment to find men who profess to follow and to speak\nfor them holding that in such matters there can be only one just and\nadequate Christian course,--that, namely, which commends itself to\n_their_ judgment! It is evident, on the contrary,--too evident to be in\nneed of serious argument,--that the very diversities of opinion and\npractice which prevail in the world--as expressed by such names as\nCatholic and Protestant, Greek Church and Latin Church, Church of\nEngland and Church of Scotland, Episcopalian, Presbyterian,\nCongregational--prove conclusively that nothing imperative has been\ntransmitted to us. The great Christian brotherhood, in its various\nsections and diverse conditions, has manifestly been left, in these\nthings, to its own sense of what it is good and right to follow. Thus,\ntoo, if we will not close our eyes to the plainest lessons of His\nProvidence, the Almighty Father gives us to understand that He only asks\nfrom us the service of heart and life that is \"in spirit and in truth;\"\nand, consequently, that we may each give utterance to our thoughts of\npraise and thanksgiving, to penitence for sin, to our prayer for the\ndivine help and blessing, in whatever form of words, through whatever\npersonal agency, and with whatever accompaniment of outward rite and\nceremony we may ourselves deem it most becoming to employ.\n\nThe second, or dogmatic, conception of the Gospel has been less\ngenerally prevalent than that of which I have been speaking. Yet, ever\nsince the days of Luther, not to recall the older times of Nicene or\nAthanasian controversy, it has been possessed of great influence in some\nof the most important Christian nations. Protestant Christianity is\npredominantly dogmatic. Under various forms of expression, it makes the\nGospel to consist in a very definite system of _doctrines_ to be\nbelieved; or, if not actually to consist in this, at least to include\nit, as its most prominent and indispensable element. We are informed,\naccordingly, that a man is not a Christian, cannot be a Christian, and\nperhaps it will be added, cannot be \"saved,\" unless he receives certain\nlong established doctrines, or reputed doctrines, of Christian faith.\n\nWhat these are, it is not necessary here minutely to inquire. It is\nwell, however, to note with care that there would be considerable\ndifferences of opinion in regard to them, among those who would yet be\nagreed as to the necessity of holding firmly to the dogmatic idea\nreferred to. A Roman Catholic, of competent intelligence, would not by\nany means agree with an ordinary member of the Anglican church equally\nqualified. Both of these would differ in essential points from a member\nof the Greek church; and the three would be almost equally at variance\nwith an average representative of Scotch Presbyterian Calvinism, as also\nwith one whose standard of orthodoxy is contained in the Sermons, and\nthe notes on the New Testament, of the founder of Methodism. Nay, it is\nwell known, even within the limits of the same ecclesiastical communion,\ndifferences so serious may be found as are denoted, in common phrase, by\nthe terms _ritualistic_ and _evangelical_, and by other familiar words\nof kindred import.\n\nAmong the great Protestant sects the want of harmony under notice is,\ndoubtless, confined within comparatively narrow limits. But there is\ndiversity, not to say discord, even here. No one will dispute the fact\nwho has any knowledge of the history of Protestant theology, or who is\neven acquainted with certain discussions, a few years ago, among\nwell-known members of the English Episcopal Church, or with others, of\nmore recent date, among English Independents,--in both cases on so\nweighty a subject as the nature of the Atonement.[17] Moreover, in the\nsame quarters, varieties of opinion are notorious on such topics as\nBaptismal regeneration, the authority of the Priesthood, the inspiration\nof Scripture, eternal punishment,--all of them questions of the most\nvital importance, in one or other of the popular schemes of the\ndoctrine.\n\n[Footnote 17: Between Archbishop Thomson, in _Aids to Faith_, and some\nof the writers of _Tracts for Priests and People_; also between several\neminent Independent Ministers, in the _English Independent_ newspaper\n(August, 1871).]\n\nNow the indisputable fact referred to--the existence of this most\nserious diversity and opposition of opinion and statement--affords the\nstrongest reason for considering it an error of the first magnitude to\nregard Christianity as essentially consisting in a definite system of\ntheological dogmas. For is it possible to believe that a divine\nrevelation of doctrine, such as the Gospel has been so commonly supposed\nto be, would have been left to be a matter of doubt and debate to its\nrecipients? Admitting, for a moment, the idea that the Almighty\nProvidence had designed to offer to men a scheme of Faith, the right\nreception of which should, in some way, be necessary for their\n\"salvation,\" must we not also hold that this would have been clearly\nmade known to them? so clearly, plainly stated as to preclude the\ndifferences just alluded to, as to what it _is_ that has been revealed?\nIt is impossible, in short, on such an assumption, to conceive of\nChristianity, as having been left in so doubtful a position that its\ndisciples should have found occasion, from age to age, in councils and\nassemblies and conferences, in books and in newspapers, to discuss and\ndispute among themselves, often amidst anger and bitterness of spirit,\nupon the question of the nature or the number of its most essential\ndoctrines. Of all possible suppositions, surely this is the least\nadmissible, the most extravagantly inconsistent with the nature of the\ncase.\n\nTo this consideration must be added another, of even greater weight. We\ngain our knowledge of Christianity, and of the Author of Christianity,\nfrom the New Testament. And, in this collection of Gospels and Epistles,\nit nowhere appears that it was the intention of Christ or of the early\ndisciples, to offer to the acceptance of the future ages of the world a\nnew and peculiar Creed, a Confession of faith, a series of Articles of\nbelief in facts or in dogmas, such as the speculative theologian of\nancient and of modern times has usually delighted to deal with. This is\nnowhere to be seen in the New Testament, although it speedily made its\nappearance when the Gospel had passed from the keeping of the primitive\nchurch into that of Greek and Hellenistic converts.\n\nThe only thing that can be supposed to approach this character, within\nthe sacred books themselves, occurs in such phrases as speak of faith in\nJesus Christ, or also of \"believing\" in the abstract, without any\nexpressed object. But in none of these instances can a dogmatic creed be\nreasonably held to be the object implied or intended. What is meant, is\nsimply belief in Jesus as the Christ,[18] as may be at once understood\nfrom the circumstances of the case, and may easily be gathered from a\ncomparison of passages. In the early days of the Gospel, the great\nquestion between the Christians and their opponents was simply this,\nwhether Jesus of Nazareth was the Christ or not. One who admitted this,\nand received him in this character, had _faith_ in him, and might be an\naccepted disciple. One who denied and rejected him, as the multitudes\ndid, was not, and could not be, so accepted. A man could not, in a word,\nbe a Christian disciple, without recognizing and believing in the\nFounder of Christianity.\n\n[Footnote 18: Comp. Matt. xvi. 14-16; Acts ix. 22, xvi. 31; Rom. iii.\n22, viii. 6, 9.]\n\nThis explanation of the nature of the Faith of the Gospel will be found\nto apply throughout the New Testament books. An illustration may be seen\nin one of the most remarkable passages, the last twelve verses of St.\nMark's Gospel,--a passage, it should be noted, usually admitted to be of\nlater origin than the rest of the book. Here (v. 16) we read, \"He that\nbelieveth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not\nshall be damned\" (condemned). The meaning is explained by a reference to\nthe related passage, in chapter xxv. of the first Gospel. Here we learn\nthat at the second Advent, shortly to come to pass, those who, having\nreceived Jesus as Lord, had approved themselves by their works obedient\nand faithful disciples, would by him be recognized as his, and admitted\nto share in the blessings of the promised kingdom of heaven: those who\nhad not done so should be rejected and driven from his presence. It is\nclear that there is, in such ideas, no sufficient ground for supposing\nfaith or belief in a creed or a dogma to have been intended by the\nwriter of either Gospel.\n\nLet me further illustrate my meaning by a brief reference to an ancient\nand, by many persons, still accepted formula of orthodox doctrine. This\nprofesses to tell us very precisely what is the true Christian faith. In\nplain terms it says, Believe this, and this, and this: believe it and\nkeep it \"whole and undefiled;\" unless you do so, \"without doubt\" you\nshall \"perish everlastingly.\"\n\nNow my proposition is, that this kind of statement, or any thing like\nit, is not to be met with in the teaching of Christ, or in any other\npart of the New Testament. Had it been otherwise,--had he plainly said\nthat the form of doctrine now referred to, or any other, was so\nessential, there could have been no room for hesitation among those who\nacknowledged him as Teacher and Lord. But he has manifestly not done\nthis, or any thing like this. Hence, as before, we are not justified in\nthinking that the religion which takes its name from him, and professes\nto represent his teaching, consists, in any essential degree, in the\nacceptance, or the profession, of any such creed or system of doctrine,\nexactly defined in words, after the manner of the churches,--whether it\nmay have come down to us from the remotest times of ante-Nicene\nspeculation, or only from the days of Protestant dictators like Calvin\nor Wesley; whether it may have been sanctioned by the authority of an\n[oe]cumenical council, so called, or by that of an imperial Parliament,\nor only by some little body of nonconformist chapel-builders, who, by\nputting their creed into a schedule at the foot of a trust-deed, show\ntheir distrust of the Spirit of Truth, and their readiness to bind their\nown personal belief, if possible, upon their successors and descendants\nof future generations.\n\nWe may then be very sure that, if the Christian Master had intended to\nmake the \"salvation\" of his followers dependent upon the reception of\ndogmas, whether about himself or about Him who is \"to us invisible or\ndimly seen\" in His \"lower works,\" he would not have left it to be a\nquestion for debate, a fertile source of angry contention or of\nheartless persecutions, as it has often virtually been, _what_ the true\ncreed, the distinctive element of his religion, really is. The very fact\nthat this _has_ been so much disputed, that such differences do now so\nlargely exist before our eyes, forms the strongest possible testimony to\nthe non-dogmatic character of the primitive or genuine Christianity. The\nsame fact ought to rebuke and warn us against the narrow sectarian\nspirit in which existing divisions originate, and which is so manifestly\nout of harmony with \"the spirit of Christ.\"\n\n\nII.\n\nThis absence from the Christian records of all express instruction, on\nthe subjects above noticed, clearly warrants us in turning away from any\nmerely dogmatic or ecclesiastical system, if it be urged upon us as\nconstituting the substance, or the distinctive element of Christianity.\nWe are thus of necessity led to look for this in something else. But to\nwhat else shall we turn? In what shall we find an answer to our inquiry,\nas to the true idea of the Christian Gospel?\n\nThe reply to this question is not difficult. The true idea of Christ's\nreligion can only be found in the life and words of the Master himself.\nAnd these it may well be believed, in their simple, rational, spiritual,\npractical form, are destined to assume a commanding position among\nChristian men which they have never yet held, and, in short, to suppress\nand supersede the extravagancies alike of ritualism and its related\ndogmatism, whatever the form in which these may now prevail among the\nchurches and sects of Christendom.\n\nThis conclusion is readily suggested, or it is imperatively dictated, by\nvarious expressions in the New Testament itself. \"Lord, to whom shall we\ngo? Thou hast the words of eternal life:\"--such is the sentiment\nattributed to the Apostle Peter by the fourth Evangelist. Paul has more\nthan one instance in which he is equally explicit: \"Other foundation\ncan no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ;\" while in\nanother place he writes, \"If any man have not the spirit of Christ, he\nis none of his.\" Jesus himself speaks in terms which are even more\ndecided, when he declares, \"_I_ am the Way, the Truth, and the\nLife.\"[19]\n\n[Footnote 19: John vi. 68; 1 Cor. iii. 11; Rom. viii. 9; John xiv. 6.]\n\nIn such expressions as these we may, at the least, plainly see the\nsurpassing importance, to the judgment of the earliest Christian\nauthorities, of the personal Christ, of his teaching and example. We are\nthus emphatically taught, in effect, that we must look to CHRIST, and\ntake HIM, in his life, his words, his devout and holy spirit, as the\nimpersonation of his religion. When it is asked, then, What is the true\nidea of Christianity, no better answer can be given than by saying, it\nis Christ himself; that it is _in_ Christ himself, in what he was and\nsays and does, in all that made him well pleasing in the sight of God,\nas the beloved Son of the Almighty Father.\n\nWhat Jesus was, in his visible life among men, we learn from the Gospel\nrecords. We learn it from them alone; for nowhere else have we\ninformation respecting him that deserves to be compared with theirs in\noriginality or fulness of detail. It is not necessary to our present\npurpose to enter at length into the particulars which they have\npreserved for us, or into the differences between the three synoptical\nGospels and the Fourth, in regard to the idea which they respectively\nconvey of the ministry of Christ. The latter Gospel, it may, however, be\nobserved, is usually admitted to be the last of the four in order of\ntime. It is also, without doubt, the production of a single mind; and\ncannot be supposed, like the others, simply to incorporate, with little\nchange, the traditions handed down among the disciples, for perhaps a\nlong series of years before being committed to writing. But whatever\naccidental characteristics of this kind may be thought to belong to the\nrespective Gospels, they all agree in the resulting impression which\nthey convey, as to the high character of Jesus. And, it will be\nobserved, they do this very artlessly, without any thing of the nature\nof intentional effort or elaborate description. They state facts, and\nreport words, in the most simple manner, often with extreme vagueness\nand want of detail. It thus, however, results, that the image of Christ\nwhich the Evangelists, and especially the first three, unite to give us\nis, above all things, a moral image only; in other words, it has been\nprovidentially ordered that the impression left upon the reader is\nalmost entirely one of moral qualities and of character.\n\nIt may even be true, as some will tell us, that we have in each of the\nfirst three Gospels, not simply the productions of as many individual\nwriters, but rather a growth or a compilation of incidents, discourses\nand sayings from various sources, and drawn especially from the oral\naccounts which had long circulated among the people, before they were\nput together in their present form. But even so, the result is all the\nmore striking. The identity and self-consistency of the central object,\nthe person of Christ, is the more remarkable. Such qualities lead us\nsafely to the conclusion that one and the same Original, one great and\ncommanding personality, was the true source from which all were more or\nless remotely derived. Hence, even the imperfect or fragmentary\ncharacter of the Gospel history becomes of itself a positive evidence\nfor the reality of the life, and the peculiar nature of the influence,\nof him whose career it so rapidly, and it may be inadequately, places\nbefore us.\n\nIt is, however, to be distinctly remembered that we reach the mind of\nChrist only through the medium of other minds. So far as can now be\nknown, no words of his writing have been transmitted to our time, or\nwere ever in the possession of his disciples. To some extent, therefore,\nit would appear, the thoughts of the Teacher[20] may have been affected,\ncolored and modified, by the peculiar medium through which they have\ncome down to us. Under all the circumstances of the case, this inference\nis natural and justifiable. It is one too of some importance, inasmuch\nas it directly suggests that, in all probability, the actual Person\nwhose portraiture is preserved for us by the Evangelists must have\nsurpassed, in his characteristic excellences, the impression which the\nnarratives in fact convey. The first generation of disciples were\nevidently men who were by no means exempt from the influence of the\nnational feelings of their people, or of the peculiar modes of thought\nbelonging to their class. In the same degree in which this is true, they\nwould be unable rightly to understand, and worthily to appreciate the\nteaching and the mind of Christ. This remark applies perhaps more\nespecially to the first three Gospels, but it is not wholly inapplicable\nto the Fourth. Indeed, the fact referred to comes prominently out to\nview at several points in the Evangelical narrative,--as in the case of\nPeter rebuking his Master for saying that he must suffer and die at\nJerusalem; in that of the request made by the mother of Zebedee's\nchildren; and in the anticipations ascribed by the first three\nEvangelists to Jesus himself, of his own speedy return to the\nearth,--anticipations which are recorded very simply, and without any\ncorrective observation on the part of the writer.[21]\n\n[Footnote 20: The term _Teacher_ is constantly used of Christ in the\nGospels, though usually disguised in our English version under the\nrendering \"Master.\" Comp. e.g. Mark ix. 17, 38; Luke x. 25.]\n\n[Footnote 21: Matt. xvi. 22, xx. 20, xxiv. 24-36; Mark viii. 31-33, x.\n35-45, xiii. 24-30; Luke xviii. 31-34.]\n\nBut, whatever the hindrances of this kind in the way of a perfectly just\nestimation by the modern disciple, the portrait of Christ preserved for\nus by the Evangelists is, in a remarkable degree, that of a great\nReligious Character. The Christ of the Gospels is, before all things, a\nSpiritual Being, unpossessed, it may even be said, of the personal\nqualities which might mark him off as the product of a particular age or\npeople. He is, in large measure, the opposite of what the disciples were\nthemselves, free from the feelings and prejudices of his Jewish birth\nand religion. This he evidently is, without any express design of\ntheirs, and by the mere force of his own individuality. He is thus, in\neffect, the Christ[22] not merely of his immediate adherents, or his own\nnation, but of all devout men for all ages. He stands before us, in\nshort, so wise, and just, and elevated in his teaching, so upright and\npure in the spirit of his life, so engaging in his own more positive\nexample of submission to the overruling will, and touching forbearance\ntowards sinful men, that innumerable generations of disciples, since his\ndeath, have been drawn to him and led to look up to him even as their\nbest and highest human representative of the Invisible God Himself.\n\n[Footnote 22: That is to say, \"anointed,\" or _King_,--in other words,\nLeader, Teacher, Saviour from sin, as the Gospels also expressly term\nhim.]\n\nIt is very probable, however, that all this was not so fully seen by\nthose who stood nearest to Jesus during his brief and rapid career, as\nit has been since. At least many, even the vast majority of his day,\nfailed to perceive it. And yet, to a Hebrew reader of the Gospels, the\ngreatness of his character could be summed up in no more expressive\nterms than by claiming for him that he was the Christ; that he embodied\nin himself the moral and intellectual pre-eminence associated with that\noffice. In this light he is especially represented in the first three\nGospels. In John, too, we have substantially the same thing, though very\ndifferently expressed. In that Gospel, he is also the Christ, but he is\nso by the indwelling of the divine Word. \"The Word became flesh and\ndwelt among us,\" and the glory which had been seen among men, \"full of\ngrace and truth,\" was the glory even \"as of the only-begotten of the\nFather.\" Probably no language could have been used that would have\nconveyed to a reader of the time a higher idea of the moral and\nspiritual qualities of any human being. And this corresponds entirely\nwith the impression given by other writers of the New Testament, to some\nof whom Jesus was personally known,--by Peter, for example, by James, by\nPaul, and by the writer to the Hebrews. They evidently looked back to\ntheir departed Master, and up to the risen Christ, as a person of\ncommanding dignity and spiritual power, and this not merely on account\nof the official title of Messiah which, rightly or wrongly, they applied\nto him, but for the lofty moral virtues with which his name was to them\nsynonymous.[23] He \"who did no sin, neither was guile found in his\nmouth,\" was, without doubt, the most perfect example which they could\ncite of all that was acceptable in the sight of God. \"The spirit of\nChrist,\" without which we are \"none of his,\" could be nothing else, and\nnothing less, than a participation in Christ-like goodness; nor can it\ntherefore possibly be wrong, if we too lay the main emphasis of the\nChristian profession precisely _here_, where it is laid by the apostles;\nif, in other words, we pass over, or leave out of sight, as altogether\nof secondary importance, or of none, those various and often conflicting\ndogmas and forms and \"diversities of administration,\" about which the\nChristian world is so sorely, and for the present, so irreparably\ndivided.\n\n[Footnote 23: 1 Pet. ii. 21, seq.; iv. 1-5, 13-16; James ii. 1, seq.;\nGal. vi. 22-24; Eph. iv. 13-15 and _passim_; Phil. i. 27, seq.; ii.\n1-11; Rom. xiii. 14; 2 Cor. iv.]\n\nThe character of Christ stands in very intimate relations with the\nmiraculous powers attributed to him by the Gospels. Those powers, it is\nneedless to say, have been seriously called in question, as actual facts\nof history, by the critical investigations of recent times. Many\npersons, it may be, cannot see, and will not admit, that their value has\nbeen affected by the inquiries alluded to. To such persons the miracles\nwill naturally retain whatever efficacy they may be conceived to possess\nas evidence of the divine, that is, supernatural, claims of him who is\nrecorded to have wrought them. They are entitled to their own judgment\nin the case, as well as to whatever support to Christian faith they\nthink they can derive from such a quarter. At the same time other\ninquirers may be permitted to think differently. If the lapse of time\nand the increasing grasp and penetration of critical knowledge\nnecessarily tend to lessen the certainty of the miraculous element of\nthe Evangelical history, may not this too be a part of the providential\nplan--contemplated and brought about for great and wise ends? May it\nnot be that now the spiritual man shall be left more entirely free to\ndiscern for himself the simple excellence of the Christian teaching and\nexample? left increasingly without that support from the witness of\noutward miracle which has usually been deemed so important, and which is\nunquestionably found to be the more commonly thus estimated, in\nproportion as we descend into the lower grades of intelligence and moral\nsensibility.[24]\n\n[Footnote 24: In illustration of this remark, it is scarcely necessary\nto mention the \"miracles\" of the Roman Catholic Church in all ages.]\n\nBut, on the other hand, if this be true, one who may thus think need not\nof necessity also hold that the miracles of the Gospels did not take\nplace, but that the history relating to them is the mere product of weak\nand credulous exaggeration. For, in truth, the ends which might be\nsubserved by such manifestations are easily understood. Occurrences so\nunwonted and remarkable could not fail both to secure the attention of\nthe spectator, and make him ponder well upon the words of the\nmiracle-worker, and also to awaken in him new feelings of reverence\ntowards the mysterious Being who had given such power to men. Thus it is\nreadily conceivable, that a miracle might be a thing of the highest\nutility to those who witnessed it and to their generation. But then, on\nthe other hand, it is not to be alleged that such occurrences are needed\nnow to show us that God is a living Spirit in the world; or,\nconsequently, that religious love and veneration are in any way\ndependent upon them, either as facts beheld by ourselves, or as\nincidents recorded to have been seen by others who lived many centuries\nago. And, if this be so, surely we may look with indifference upon the\nmost destructive operations of literary or scientific criticism, being\nanxious only, and above all things, for the simple truth, whatever it\nmay be.\n\nAgain, however, it is not to be denied that the possession of miraculous\npower may have been for Christ himself, not less than for those who saw\nhis works, of the deepest spiritual import. The formation of a character\nlike his would seem peculiarly to require the training that would be\nafforded by such an endowment. We know how, with ordinary men, the\ncommand of unlimited power is, in fact, a test of rectitude,\nself-government, unselfishness, of the most trying and, it may be, most\nelevating, kind. The temptations which necessarily accompany it are\nproverbial. Was Christ exempt from that kind of moral discipline, that\nsupreme proof of fidelity to God? Allowing, for a moment, what the\nnarratives directly intimate, that he felt within himself the force of\nmiraculous gifts, and the capacity to use them, if he had so willed, for\npurposes either of personal safety or of political ambition;[25] in\nthis, we may see at once, there would be an end to be served of the\ngreatest moment both to himself and to the future instruction of his\ndisciples. By such an experience, the moral greatness of his example\nmight be doubly assured. It would be made possible to him to deny and\nhumble himself,--even, in apostolical phrase, to \"empty\" himself of his\nMessianic prerogatives, in order the better to do the Heavenly Father's\nwill, and, preferring even the cross to a disobedient refusal of the cup\nwhich could not pass from him, to be \"made perfect through suffering,\"\nthus showing himself worthy to be raised up at last to be, as he has\nbeen, the spiritual Lord of the Church.\n\n[Footnote 25: Matt. iv. 1, seq.]\n\nThis idea was, in fact, a familiar one to Paul, as to others of the\nChristian writers.[26] Its literal truth is enforced by the\nconsideration of the strange improbability that one by birth a Galilean\npeasant, without any special gifts or powers to recommend him to the\nnotice of his people, should yet be acknowledged by many of them as the\npromised Messiah; should, in spite of an ignominious death, be accepted\nin that character by multitudes; and finally, in the same or a still\nhigher character, should acquire the love and reverential homage of half\nthe world.\n\n[Footnote 26: 2 Cor. viii. 9; Eph. i. 20-23; Phil. ii. 5-11; Heb. ii. 9,\n10, 18; 1 Pet. ii. 21.]\n\nAnd yet it may remain true that, as time passes, this consideration\nshall lose much of its weight, in the judgment of increasing numbers of\nearnest inquirers. They, accordingly, will cease to place reliance on\nthe outward material sign. Jesus, nevertheless, may still be to them as\nan honored Master and Friend, whose name they would gladly cherish, for\nwhat he is in himself. To those who thus think his character and words\nwill appeal by their own intrinsic worth. He will be Teacher, Saviour,\nSpiritual Lord, simply by the inherent grace and truth spoken of by the\nEvangelist of old.\n\nIf this be the destined end, we may gladly acknowledge the providential\nguiding even in this; and we shall certainly guard ourselves against\njudging harsh or uncharitable judgment in reference to those who on this\nsubject may not see as we see, or feel as we feel;--who, nevertheless,\nin thought and deed and aspiration, may not be less faithful to Truth\nand Right, or less loyally obedient to all that is seen to be highest\nand best in Christ himself.\n\n\nIII.\n\nChrist, then, I repeat, thus standing before us in the Evangelical\nrecords of his ministry, is the impersonation of his religion. What we\nsee in Him is Christianity. Or, if it be not so, where else shall we\nlook with the hope to find it? Who else has ever had a true _authority_\nto place before us a more perfect idea, or to tell us more exactly what\nthe Gospel is? The _Church_, indeed, some will interpose, has such\nauthority! But examine this statement, and its untenable character\nspeedily appears. The Church at any given moment is, and has been,\nsimply a body of fallible mortals, like ourselves. If the Christian men\nof this present day cannot suppose themselves to be preserved from\nintellectual error in matters of religion, neither can we think the\nChristian men of the past to have been more highly privileged. In fact,\nit must be added, as we ascend into the darker periods of Church\nhistory, we come upon the most undeniable traces of ignorance,\nmisunderstanding, worldliness and folly, on the part of the\necclesiastics of the early and the middle ages, such as deprive their\njudgments on the subject before us of all right or claim to unquestioned\nacceptance. Let any one read, for example, the accounts given by\ntrustworthy historians[27] of that great assembly of the Church which\nproduced the Nicene Creed. Will any one allege that in the passion and\nprejudice, the smallness of knowledge, the subtlety of speculation, and\nnarrowness of heart, pervading the majority of that assembly, the Divine\nSpirit was peculiarly present to dictate or guide the decision arrived\nat, and make it worthy of the blind adhesion of future Christian\ngenerations? And, if we cannot thus admit the peculiar idea of\nChristianity _there_ approved, it will surely be in vain to look to any\nsimilar quarter, either of the past or of the present, for what shall\nsupersede the living \"grace and truth,\" seen in Christ himself.\n\n[Footnote 27: E.g., in Dean Stanley's _History of the Eastern Church_.]\n\nThis conclusion is greatly strengthened by the briefest reference to the\nnegative results of unbelief and irreligion, so prevalent in those\ncountries which have been the longest under the influence of the old\nritualistic idea of the Church and the priesthood. Positively speaking,\nthis idea, it is needless to add, has largely failed in almost every\nthing except the encouragement among the people of the grossest\nsuperstitions[28]--superstitions of which there is no trace whatever in\nimmediate connection with the Christian Master. Not, however, to dwell\nin detail on this unpromising theme, let us rather turn to the\nconsiderations by which our leading position may be confirmed; from\nwhich too we may learn that a better future is yet in store for us.\n\n[Footnote 28: A good authority has recently observed, \"Catholicism,\nsubstituted for Christ, has turned the thought of Southern Europe to\nsimple Infidelity, if not to Atheism; let us take heed that\nProtestantism does not bring about the same thing in another way in the\nNorth.\"--Bishop Ewing, in a _Letter_ to the Spectator newspaper, April\n8, 1870. The remark here quoted is of much wider application than the\nBishop himself would probably admit!]\n\nThe experience of past ages, the existing sectarian divisions of\nChristendom, the errors and superstitions involved in the grosser\nassumptions of Church authority, all unite to compel us to the\nconclusion of the essentially erroneous character of the old ritualistic\nand dogmatic conceptions of the nature of the Gospel. They show us not\nonly that dogmas and rites about which the most earnest men are so\nutterly at variance cannot possibly be of the essence of Christianity,\nbut further that the latter is nowhere to be found except in Him whom in\nspite of diversities all alike agree to hold in honor. And, in truth,\nhis life, brief and fleeting as it was, may well be said to constitute\nthe Christian revelation. That it does so, and was intended to do so,\nmay, as already observed, be seen better in our day, than it was by the\nearliest disciples. Their thoughts were preoccupied, their vision\nobscured, by various influences which prevented them from clearly\ndiscerning the one thing needful. The temporal kingdom of their Master\nfor which they were, many of them, so eagerly looking; his speedy return\nto judge the world,--an expectation of which there are so many traces in\nGospels and Epistles alike; the great and urgent question of the Law and\nits claims, with that of the admission of the Gentiles to the faith of\nChrist without the previous adoption of Judaism;--such thoughts and such\ncares as these largely engaged and filled the minds of the disciples,\nwithin the limits of the period to which the origin of the principal New\nTestament books must be assigned. After the close of that period, fresh\nsubjects of controversial interest continually arose, until these were\ngradually overshadowed by the rising authority of the Church and the\nlater growth of sacerdotal power, followed in due course of time by the\ngrosser corruptions of the primitive Gospel which marked the\nChristianity of the darker ages, and which have by no means as yet spent\ntheir power. Thus has it pleased the Great Disposer that men should be\nled forward to truth and light through error and darkness. Even as the\nHebrews of old were gradually brought by many centuries of experience,\nand in the midst of imperfections and backslidings innumerable, to their\nfinal recognition of the One Jehovah, so have the Christian generations\nbeen slowly learning and unlearning according as their own condition and\ncapacities allowed. Thus the great development has been running its\ndestined course, and will doubtless conduct us eventually to yet better\nand truer ideas of what the Almighty purposes had, in Christ, really\ndesigned to give to the world.\n\nTo vary the form of expression, the life of Christ itself constitutes\nthe revelation of His will which the Almighty Father has given to man by\nHis Son. And that life does constitute a revelation, in the most full\nand various import of this term. It shows us, in a clear and engaging\nlight, the One God and Father of all, the Just and Holy One, who will\nrender to every man according to his deeds. It shows us the high powers\nand capacities of man himself; for, while and because it tells him to be\nperfect even as the Father in Heaven is perfect, it not only recognizes\nin him the capability to be so, but also abundantly affords the\nspiritual nutriment by which the higher faculties of his nature may be\nnurtured and strengthened within him. It shows us how to live a life of\nreligious trust and obedience to the commands of duty, and, amidst many\nsorrows and trials, still to preserve a soul unstained by guilt. It\nshows us that this high devotion to the sacred law of Truth and Right is\nthat which is well pleasing to God; and that His will is that man should\nthus, by the discipline of his spirit, join the moral strength and\nsensibility in this world which shall fit him, if he will, to enter upon\nthe higher life of the world to come. All this we see plainly expressed\nand announced in Christ, constituting him the _Revealer_ in the best\nsense of this term. All this we do see, even though it may be very hard\nto find any doctrinal creed laid down in definite words, or any system\nof rites and ceremonies of worship, of Church government, or of priestly\nfunctions and dignities, placed before us as constituting an\nindispensable part of our common Christianity.\n\nAnd it is here an obvious remark that, while Christian men have so often\nquestioned and disputed with one another about the essentials of their\nreligion; while they have sometimes, again, been forgetful of its\nspirit, in their controversies as to its verbal and written forms,--all\nthis time they have been substantially agreed as to the matters which\nare the greatest and weightiest of all. About the Gospel as embodying\nand expressing man's faith in God and in heaven, and as setting forth\nthe highest moral law with its exemplification in an actual human life;\nabout the Gospel in these, which are surely its most serious and\ninteresting aspects, there has been no dispute. The great spiritual\nprinciples taught by Christ, and the power of his practical exhibition\nof human duty, have been constantly admitted and--may it not be\nadded?--constantly felt in the world, among all the sects and parties of\nChristendom, in spite of the differences of forms and creeds which have\nseparated men from each other.\n\nThis fact suggests a further consideration of obvious interest. Regarded\nas a dogmatic or an ecclesiastical system, the Gospel is one of the\ngreatest failures which the world has seen, no two sects or churches,\nscarcely any two congregations, being agreed as to some one or other of\nwhat are deemed its most essential elements. Regarded as a moral and\nspiritual energy and instructor among men, it is and always has been a\nquickening power,--tending directly, in its genuine influences, to\nsupport and to guide aright, and, even amidst the worst distractions or\nperversions of human passion and error, whispering thoughts of hope,\ncomfort, and peace, to many troubled hearts. This should not be\nforgotten in our estimates of the part played by Christianity in past\ntimes, or in the judgments sometimes so lightly uttered by a certain\nclass of its critics, who show themselves so ready to confound the\nreligion with its corruptions, and to include it and them in one\nindiscriminate condemnation. It should help to call us back to juster\nviews of the nature and the function of Christ's religion, and lead us\nthe better to see that these consist, not in its capacity or its success\nas an imposer of dogmas or of ceremonial acts to be received and\ncarefully performed by either priests or people, but in its power to\nstrengthen with moral strength, to guide in the path of duty, to save us\nfrom our sins, to breathe into us the spirit of Christ, and so to bring\nus nearer to God. Such is the true function and the real power of the\nGospel, even though it may constantly have had to act in the midst of\ngross ignorance, or of false and exaggerated dogmatic conception; nor is\nit too much to say that this its highest character has not been\naltogether wanting to it, even in the darkest periods of man's\nintellectual experience, during the last eighteen centuries.\n\nAnd not only is this so; but, further, it is evidently not through the\n_peculiar_ doctrines of his church or sect that a man is most truly\nentitled to the name of Christian, but rather by his participation in\nwhat is _common_ to all the churches and sects which are themselves\nworthy of that name. For let us call to mind, for a moment, some of the\nmore eminent Christian men and women of modern times, to whatever\nsectarian fold they may have owned themselves to belong. Recall the\nnames of a F\u00e9nelon, an Oberlin, a Vincent de Paul, a Xavier, a\nMelancthon, a Milton, a Locke, a Chalmers, a Clarkson, a Wilberforce, a\nMrs. Fry, a Keble, a Heber, a Wesley, a Lardner, a Priestley, a\nChanning, a Tuckerman, with innumerable other true-hearted followers of\nhim who both bear witness to the truth, and \"went about doing good.\" In\nsuch persons we have representatives of nearly all the churches, with\ntheir various peculiarities of doctrinal confession. And must we not\nbelieve that such men and women were true Christians? If so, will it not\nfollow that in every one of their differing communions true Christians\nare to be found? Probably no man, unless it be one of the most bigoted\nadherents of Evangelical or high Anglican orthodoxy, would venture to\ndeny this. There are, then, good Christians, let us gladly admit, in all\nthe various sects and parties of Christendom; men whom Christ himself,\nif he were here, would acknowledge and welcome as true disciples. But\nwhat is it that entitles such persons all alike to the Christian\ncharacter and name? It cannot be any thing in which each _differs_ from\nthe rest, but rather something which they all have in common. It cannot\nbe any thing that is peculiar to the Roman Catholic alone, for then the\nProtestant would not have it; nor any thing that is peculiar to the\nProtestant alone, for then the Roman Catholic would not have it; nor any\nthing that is peculiar to the Trinitarian alone, for then the Unitarian\nwould not have it. It must be something apart from the distinctive creed\nof each. It is then something which all must possess, otherwise they\nwould not be truly Christian; which they must have in _addition_ to\ntheir several distinguishing doctrines,--in company with which the\nlatter may indeed be held, but which is not the exclusive property of\nany single church, or sect, or individual, whatever.\n\nWhat then do all the Christian sects and parties, of every name, hold in\ncommon, and never differ about? Is it not simply in this, that they\nreceive and reverence Jesus as the beloved Son in whom God was well\npleased? that they hold the Christian faith in the Father in Heaven,\nwith all that this involves of love to God and love to man? that they\naccept the law of righteousness, placed before us in the \"living\ncharacters\" of Christ's own deeds and words, and strive to obey it in\ntheir conduct? that they hold the same common faith as to the presence\nand the providence of God, the future life and the judgment to come?\nThis Christian allegiance, it is true, is expressed under the most\ndifferent forms of statement, and in many a case it may hardly be\ndefinitely expressed at all; but yet even this, and such as this, is, by\nbelief and practice, the common property of every Christian man; and so\nfar as he lives in the spirit of this high faith is he truly a disciple\nand no further whatever may be the church or sect, or forms of doctrine\nand worship, to which he may attach himself. And all this, I repeat, is\nmost plainly revealed to us in the spirit and the life of\nChrist,--insomuch that we feel the statement to be incontrovertibly\nsure, that he is the truest Christian of all whose practical daily\nspirit and conduct are the most closely and constantly animated and\ngoverned by the spirit and precepts and example of the Master Christ.\n\nIt seems strange, when we think about it, that men should have gone so\nfar astray, in times past, from the more simple and obvious idea of\nChristianity thus laid before us. We may have difficulty in explaining\nhow this has come to pass; how it is that so much of the weight and\nstress, as it were, of the Christian religion should have been laid upon\nobscure metaphysical creeds and dogmas, the obvious tendency of which\nis, and always has been, to divide men from each other, to degenerate\ninto gross superstition, and destroy the liberty \"wherewith Christ has\nmade us free,\" and which, moreover, are nowhere contained in the\nScriptures, and cannot even be stated in the language of the Scriptures;\nhow it is, again, that so little emphasis should be laid in these\ndogmatic formulas upon that obedience which is better than sacrifice,\neven that doing the Heavenly Father's will, which--strange to tell!--is\nthe only condition prescribed by Christ for entering into the kingdom.\n\nTruly this question is not without its perplexities. But some\nexplanation may be found. It is the obvious law of Divine Providence, it\nis and has been a great law of human progress, that Truth shall not be\nflashed upon the mind at once, either in religion or in any other of the\ngreat fields of interest and occupation to man; but that it shall be\nconquered and won through the medium of slow and gradual approach, even\nin the midst and by the help of misunderstanding and error. It is thus,\ndoubtless, that men are trained to appreciate rightly the value of the\ntruths and principles which they ultimately gain. In other words, past\nexperience goes far to show us that moral excellence and the\napprehension of truth, by such a being as man, can only be acquired by\nmeans of previous conflict with evil and untruth, in some one or other\nof their manifold forms; or, if not by an actual personal conflict for\neach of us individually, at least by means of the observed or recorded\nexperience of others, more severely tried than ourselves.\n\nThus it has doubtless been with the reception and gradual prevalence of\nChristian truths and principles. Men have had slowly, by a varied and\nsometimes painful experience, to learn that it is not by saying, Lord,\nLord, by confessing some formal creed, or being included within the\nlimits of some visible church; not by forms and ceremonies of any kind,\nsuch as baptism at the hands of a priest, or the confession of sin into\nhis ear, that we may become truly recipients of the light and strength\nof the Gospel of Christ; but much rather by personal communion with the\nSpirit of God, by doing the things which the Lord hath said, by striving\nto be like Christ, in heart and in life, active in goodness, submissive\nto the Heavenly Father's will, and ready to the work of duty which He\nhas given us to do.\n\nIn proportion as this conception of Christianity comes forward into\nview, and assumes the pre-eminence to which it is entitled, and which is\neither implied or expressly declared in the principal writings of the\nNew Testament, in the same degree must the merely dogmatic and\nsacerdotal idea sink into insignificance. It will be seen that moral and\nspiritual likeness to the Christian Head is what is all-important; and,\nconsequently, that within the limits of the same communion, bound\ntogether by the common principle of Christian faith,--the principle of\nlove and reverence for the one Master, Christ,--there may exist the most\ncomplete mental freedom, and even, to a very large extent, the most\ndiverse theological beliefs.\n\n\nIV.\n\nBut here I may be met by certain objections which will hardly fail to\noccur to different classes of readers.\n\nIn the first place, it may be said, the idea of the Gospel above\npresented is itself dogmatic; and indeed that the conception of\nChristianity as involving definite forms of doctrine is not to be got\nrid of. This remark I am by no means concerned wholly to escape.\nDoubtless the Gospel, as it is given in the words of Christ, includes\nvarious clearly stated truths respecting the Divine Providence and Will,\nand the retributions of this world and the next,--truths, I may add,\nwhich are not only level to the apprehension of the human faculties, but\nalso in harmony with the highest dictates of the natural conscience and\nreason of man. But these great truths are not dogmatically laid before\nus in the Gospel. The mind of each reader is left free to gather them\nfor itself. They are so stated as to quicken and elevate, not to stupefy\nor render useless, the religious and moral sense of the disciple. They\nserve thus, in the result, to arouse in him the strength of deep\nindividual conviction, without which they could have little practical\nvalue. The teaching function of the Gospel is of _this_ kind, rather\nthan dogmatic and denunciatory, in the manner of the creeds. It does not\nattempt to put before us a ready-made body of doctrine, in such a way as\nto save the disciple the trouble of inquiry and reflection for himself,\nas though it would make him the mere recipient of what is imposed upon\nhim from without. Not in this mechanical way, either in the world of\noutward nature, or in the Gospel of His Son, does the Great Parent speak\nto the hearts of His children; but chiefly by awakening their higher,\ndevouter sensibilities, and letting them feel the force of truth and\nright within their own secret spirits. No imposition from without could\nfitly accomplish this divine work; and we may be well assured that no\nman living, and no church or sect on earth, has a legitimate authority\nto define exactly the limits within which Christian belief shall confine\nitself, or beyond which belief shall not extend, without ceasing to be\nChristian. Obviously and unquestionably Christ himself has nowhere\nattempted to dictate his religion in such a way; neither has any of his\napostles, not even the ardent and impetuous Paul. On the contrary, the\nlatter, like his Master, constantly attaches the greatest importance to\nthe practical virtues, and to a devout spirit,--in no case making his\nappeal to a dogmatic statement, or giving us to understand that he had\nthe least idea of any dogmatic system whatever, similar, in spirit or in\nform, to the creeds of modern orthodoxy.\n\nA second objection may be urged by a defender of the prevailing forms\nand dogmas of the churches. Such a person may say that, in taking Christ\nas the measure and representative of his own religion, we leave out of\nsight all that may have been contributed to its development by the\nApostles, to say nothing of their successors, and that the Epistles of\nthe New Testament contain much that is not met with in connection with\nhim. In reply, let it be observed in what terms the Apostles speak of\ntheir Master, and of the obedience, the faith, and veneration due to\nhim. Paul, for example, in various forms, tells them to \"put on the Lord\nJesus Christ;\" to let his mind be in them, his word dwell in them\nrichly, to acquire his spirit, to follow him in love and self-sacrifice.\nHe will know nothing, he says, \"save Jesus Christ, and him crucified;\"\nand we know how closely he treads in his Master's steps, in the\nabsolute preference which he gives to the Love which, he declares, is\ngreater than faith, and the very fulfilling of the law itself. The same\nstrain is held by others of the Apostles; and there can be no doubt that\nChrist, under God, was constantly looked up to by them as the great\nobject of the faith, the love, and the imitation of every disciple. It\nis true, indeed, that there are many things in the Apostolical writings\nother than we find in connection with Christ's personal life; but these\nwill be found to belong, almost exclusively, to the peculiar\ncircumstances and controversies of the times succeeding his death. In\ntruth, they belong so entirely to them as to have little of practical\nreference, or utility, beyond. Paul's Epistles, for instance, are full\nof the long debated question as to the claims of the law upon Gentiles,\nand the mystery which, he says, had been hidden \"from the foundation of\nthe world,\" that the Messiah should be preached even to those who were\nnot of the fold of Israel. But these are only temporary incidents of the\nearly career of Christianity. They have no intimate connection with the\npermanent influence of Christ; and we of modern times have little\nconcern with them, except only to be on our guard against letting them\nunduly sway our judgment and turn us away from subjects of greater\nconsequence,--as too often has happened to the ingenious framers of\ntheological systems. Christianity, in a word, has been only perplexed\nand impeded in its course, by those thoughtless or over-zealous\nexpounders who have insisted upon constructing schemes of orthodoxy out\nof the antiquated disputes of Jews and Gentiles.[29]\n\n[Footnote 29: See, e.g., the Essay on the Death of Christ, in _Aids to\nFaith_.]\n\nIn all his Epistles St. Paul, in the true spirit of his Master, gives us\nclearly to know what is of chief importance. After treating, as he\nusually does, of the local and passing concerns and disputes which\nengaged many of his correspondents, he never fails to turn at last to\nspeak of the practical goodness, the purity of heart and life, the\nkindly affections towards one another, the reasonable service of love\nand duty, by which the Christian disciple may be known, by which alone\nhe can present himself as a \"living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto\nGod.\" In such qualities as these, the attainment or the practice of\nwhich he so earnestly urges upon his friends, we have precisely what\nconstitute the most marked features in the life and the teachings of\nChrist. Thus we are brought once more to the old conclusion that in\nfaithful loyalty to Christ, to the highest ideal presented to us of his\nspirit and character, are to be found the true light and joy and peace\nof the Christian Gospel.\n\nA third objection is of a different character. There are some things, it\nwill be said, in immediate connection with him whom we term Teacher and\nLord, some things in his words and ideas, if not in his actions, which\nare far from being in perfect harmony with the highest truth, as known\nto men in these later times. For example, when he speaks as though he\nbelieved diseases and insanity to be caused by the presence of a devil,\nor demon, in the afflicted person, are we to attach importance to this,\nso as ourselves to think that such disorders are (or were) so\nproduced?--or shall we not rather follow the guidance of modern science,\nand believe that the various infirmities which, in ancient times, were\nattributed to evil spirits arose from natural causes, and that the\nmanner in which such things are spoken of in the New Testament is a\nproduct simply of the imperfect knowledge of those days?\n\nIn reply, there need be no hesitation in saying that we are bound, as\nbeings of thought and reason, to follow the best guidance which God has\ngiven us, in these and all other subjects; and by the term _best_ can\nonly be understood that which commends itself most forcibly to our\nrational intelligence. It can in no way be claimed for Christ that he\nwas intellectually perfect; that he did not share in the prevailing\nbeliefs of his countrymen, and partake even of their ignorance. Such a\nclaim as this is certainly nowhere advanced in the New Testament, but\nthe _contrary_; and those who, in our time, would bring it forward\nshould ask themselves whether, by so doing, they are most likely to\nbenefit, or to injure, the cause which doubtless they would desire to\nsupport. Jesus himself makes no pretension to intellectual\ninfallibility, but lets us see, in no uncertain way, that he was not\nunconscious of the limitation of his own knowledge.[30]\n\n[Footnote 30: Mark xiii. 32.]\n\nIn general terms it may be added, the Gospel, when first preached in the\nworld, was necessarily adapted to the people to whom it was addressed.\nIt conformed, in many respects, to their ideas and modes of expression,\nand also made use of these for its own ends. Had it not done so, how\ncould it have touched and moved them as it did, and as, through them, it\nhas touched and moved the world ever since? Jesus, therefore, himself,\nand those who took up his work after him, were, in a large degree, men\nof their own day, imbued with prevailing ideas and feelings, and\nemploying these in their speaking and preaching in the most natural\nmanner. Is it not even so with ourselves at the present moment? For how,\nindeed, can it be otherwise? And if many of the primitive Christian\nideas were more or less erroneous and ill-founded, it is easy to\nunderstand that, while the overruling Providence made them its\ninstruments for leading men on by degrees to something better, still it\ncan have been no part of the great design of God that misunderstanding\nand ignorance should be removed by any other process than by the natural\ngrowth of knowledge among men. They were not to be supernaturally\nrefuted, but left to be corrected in due course of time; and the needed\ncorrection was and is to come even as men grow wiser and more thoughtful\nand able to bear it.\n\nHence, it is not to be questioned, many errors, chiefly of the\nintellectual kind, attached to the early preaching of the Gospel, and\nsome certainly did to the words of Christ himself; just as very much of\nhuman ignorance and prejudice has since and continually been involved in\nthe ideas prevailing as to the character and purposes of his religion.\nAs before observed, man has been made by his Creator to find his way up\nto light and truth from the most imperfect beginnings, and by a\nprolonged conflict against and amidst darkness and manifold error. Such\nis our human nature, and the position which the Divine Will has assigned\nto us. And so in the early ages after Christ there sprung up the\nidolatrous worship of the Virgin Mary and of innumerable saints; nor is\nthe world yet free, though it is slowly freeing itself, from the\ninfluence of these superstitions and their related errors of thought.\nSuccessive generations inherit much of the evil as well as the good, the\nignorance as well as the knowledge, of those who have been before them.\nThus does the Almighty Father exercise and discipline his human family\nin patience, in self-control, in the search after truth, even by letting\nus suffer and work for the good fruits of knowledge and righteousness,\ninstead of giving them to the world at once without thought or effort of\nour own. This is eminently true in connection with the whole course of\nChristian development. In Christ's own teachings and those of the\nApostles, as time has amply shown, erroneous ideas were not wanting.\nPeter denied his Master, and thought at first that only Jews could be\ndisciples. Both he and Paul, as well as James, with probably all the\nearly Christians, long cherished the hope of their Master's return to\nthe earth within that generation; a belief which is to be traced also,\nequally with that in demoniacal possessions, in the recorded words of\nJesus himself. Other instances of a similar kind might easily be\nmentioned.\n\nBut, while all this seems perfectly undeniable, has not Divine\nProvidence so ordered that what is really wrong and false in men's ideas\nof Christian truth shall sooner or later be seen in its real character,\nin the advancing progress of human knowledge?--and therefore, if we are\nourselves only patient and faithful, each of us, to what we see, or\nthink we see, to be right and good, that the untrue in our ideas shall\nbe eventually separated from the true, however close may be the\nconnection which at any time may subsist between them? Such is,\ndoubtless, the Almighty purpose, such the all-sufficient process\nprovided in His wisdom for securing the training and growth of the races\nand generations of men in the knowledge of Divine things. It follows,\nagain, that whatever in the Christian teaching, as in other teaching,\nshall stand the test of advancing knowledge, and still approve itself\nas true and honest and just and pure and lovely and of good report[31]\nto the purified conscience and practised intellect of man, that shall be\nGod's everlasting Truth; that too He must have designed not only by the\nword of Christ, but through the living souls of His rational children,\nto proclaim to the world with the mark of His Divine approval.\n\n[Footnote 31: Philip. iv. 8.]\n\nIt is not necessary here to ask in detail what it is in existing schemes\nof Christian theology, or in the outward forms and arrangements of\npriesthoods and of churches, that will bear this test of advancing\nknowledge, and this scrutiny of the educated intellect and conscience.\nDoubtless much in the popular creeds of our day will do so; but much\nmore will only be as chaff before the wind, or stubble before the\ndevouring flame. Among the perishable things will surely be the\necclesiastical systems which vary with every different country and\nchurch, and along with these the claims to priestly and papal authority\nand infallibility, about which we again hear such angry contention.\nTruly, none of these will bear the test and strain of time and\nknowledge; but only those great and unchangeable principles of spiritual\ntruth, and those deep-lying sentiments of moral right, which are\n_common_ to _all_ the different sects and parties of Christendom. These\nwill retain their place among the great motive forces of the world, even\nbecause their roots are firmly planted by the Divine hand itself in the\nvery nature of man, and made to be a part of the constitution of his\nmind; while, also, it is true, and the Christian disciple will ever\ngratefully acknowledge, they owe their best and highest expression and\nexemplification to Jesus the Christ, the \"beloved Son,\" in whom God was\n\"well pleased.\"\n\nWe may conclude then, as before, that in the mind and life of\nChrist,--in his unshaken trust in the Heavenly Father, and in the heaven\nto be revealed hereafter,--in his readiness to obey the call of Duty,\nwherever it might lead him, even though it might be to the shame and the\nagony of the cross,--in his faithful adherence to the right, and earnest\ndenunciation of falsehood, hypocrisy, and wrong-doing,--in his gentle\nspirit of forgiveness and filial submission even unto death,--we have\nthe lessons of Christian truth and virtue which it most of all concerns\nus to receive and to obey. In this high \"faith of Christ\" we have the\ntrue revelation of God's will for man; the Gospel speaking to us in its\nmost touching and impressive tones,--either reproaching us for our\nindifference and calling us to repentance, or else aiding and\nencouraging us onward in the good path of righteousness.\n\nSo long as Christianity shall be thus capable of speaking to the world,\nso long will it, amidst all the varieties of outward profession, be a\nliving power for good; and vain will be the representation which would\ntell us that it is now only a thing of the past, unfitted for the better\nknowledge and higher philosophy of these modern times. Surely not\nso!--but, rather, until we have each individually attained the moral\nelevation even of Christ himself, and can say that we too, in character\nand conduct, in motive and aspiration, are well pleasing in the sight of\nHeaven, until we _are_ this, and can feel and say this with truth, the\nreligion of Christ will be no antiquated thing of the past to _us_; but\nfrom its teaching and its spirit--the teaching and the spirit of\nChrist--we shall still have wisdom and truth to learn.\n\nMay the time speedily come, which shall see Christ's spirit ruling the\nindividual lives of all around us,--more truly inspiring the thoughts\nand efforts of our lawgivers,--teaching men everywhere to be just and\nmerciful towards each other; and thus making Christianity, in deed and\nin truth, the \"established religion,\" the guiding and triumphant power\nof this and all other lands! Then, indeed, will the daily prayer of all\nChristian hearts be answered, and the \"kingdom of heaven\" on earth be\ntruly come.\n\n\n\n\nTHE AIM AND HOPE OF JESUS.\n\nBy OLIVER STEARNS.\n\n\nA learned Historian of the Christian Theology of the Apostolic age\nobserves that what most distinguishes the Jewish religion, at least in\nits last centuries, is not so much monotheism as faith in the future.\nWhile elsewhere we see the imagination of men complacently retracing the\npicture of a golden age irrecoverably lost, Israel, guided by its\nprophets, persisted in turning its eyes towards the future, and attached\nitself the more firmly to a felicity yet to come, the more the actual\nsituation seemed to give the lie to its hopes.[32]\n\n[Footnote 32: Reuss, History of the Christian Theology of the Apostolic\nAge.]\n\nWhat these hopes were in relation to the future of that people and of\nthe world, what the Messianic ideas and expectations were, we learn from\nthe New Testament, particularly from the Gospels. And we find our\nimpressions from this source made more clear in some points, and in all\nconfirmed, by a study of the Apocalyptic literature,--of those writings\nof which it was the object to give both shape and expression to the\nHebrew thought of the kingdom of heaven, and of the brilliant and\nmiraculous events which would introduce and establish it.\n\nJewish Theology in the age of Jesus Christ divided the whole course of\ntime into two grand periods; one, comprehending the past and the\npresent, was that of suffering and sin; the other, embracing the future,\na period of virtue and happiness. The last years of the former period\nformed the most important epoch in the History of Humanity, the\ntransition to a new order of things, and was designated by a peculiar\nphrase,--the consummation of the age and the last days. It would be\nintroduced by the appearance of the great Restorer or Deliverer of the\npeople of God, and of the world, whom the prophets predicted; and who\nwas called the Messiah, the Anointed of the Lord,--_i.e._, the King by\neminence, the King of Israel. He was to be the successor and the son of\nDavid. The precise moment of his appearance was not known. The Jewish\ntheologians tried to determine the precursive signs of the near approach\nof his advent. The first of these was the period of great wickedness and\nsuffering, marked by a particular name, the anguish, and compared to the\npangs of child-birth. Immediately preceding the advent of the King, a\nprophet of the Old Covenant would be restored to life to announce it,--a\npart in the miraculous drama commonly assigned to Elijah. The Messiah\nhimself would come on the clouds of heaven, with a retinue of angels,\nand with a pomp and splendor which would leave no doubt of the fact of\nhis advent. He would come to found the kingdom of God. This implied the\npolitical, moral, and religious regeneration of the people. A series of\nmost imposing scenes would follow the advent. At the sound of a trumpet,\nthe dead would arise and appear for the judgment of the last day. The\njust would take part in the judgment of the reprobate, who would be\nthrown into the lake of fire, prepared for the devil and his angels to\nsuffer eternal torture. And the kingdom of God or of the Messiah would\nbe established immediately on the earth, which, with the whole of the\nuniverse of which it was the centre, would be gloriously transformed to\nfit it to be the abode of the elect of God.\n\nInto the circle of these ideas and expectations Jesus was born. In it he\npassed his life, acted and suffered; and claimed to found the kingdom of\nGod. He claimed in some sense to be the Messiah; and, though rejected by\nhis people and put to death, he has borne the name in history, and now\nbears it. He is Jesus, the Christ. How did he regard these ideas and\nexpectations? Did he adopt them? And, if at all, how far? Did he claim\nto be such a Messiah as the Jews expected? If so, then Christianity may\nbe what it has been called, \"a natural development of Judaism.\" It is\nnot essentially a new religion. It is not an evolution of a perfect\nuniversal, from an imperfect and partial, religion. It is essentially\nJudaism still; and \"the kingdom of God, which Jesus preached in both a\ntemporal and spiritual sense, developed naturally and logically into the\nPopedom, which is the nearest approximation to the fulfilment of the\nclaim of Jesus. Judaism is germinal Christianity, and Christianity is\nfructified Judaism.\" Christianity is only what is weakest and most\nfantastic in Judaism gone to seed. _The fruit_ is the Roman Hierarchy\nand Ritual. That which is alone characteristic of it is limited and\nperishable. Jesus himself, though his ambition was a lofty one, was\nmistaken in an essential point of his self-assertion; and the gospel is\nnot destined to be an universal religion, but only to make some moderate\ncontributions thereto.\n\nIt is an important question, then,--one which concerns his worth and\nposition as a man, as well as his wisdom as a founder of a\nreligion,--What did Jesus aim at? and what did he expect as the result\nof his movement? The answers that have been given may be reduced to\nthree principal forms: 1. He expected to found a political Empire; 2. He\nexpected to introduce a vast Theocracy, to which believers of other\nnations should be admitted, and which was to be established on the\nrenovated earth, after his death, at his return to take possession of it\nas King, to reward his followers, and to put all opposition under his\nfeet; 3. He expected to found a purely spiritual communion or society in\nwhich he should continue to exercise for ages, by his spirit, word, and\nlife, a power of truth and love over the minds and hearts of men,\nfilling them with the most exalted sense of God.\n\nThe first view has been presented by some able adversaries of\nChristianity, among whom Reimarus led the way in a fragment \"On the Aim\nof Jesus,\" published with others anonymously in 1778. He charged Jesus\nwith using religious motives as merely a means to a political end; but\nsupposed that, after he found death impending, he renounced the\npolitical aim, and pretended that his purpose was only a moral one. A\nfew able scholars have been disposed to blend the last view with the\nothers. They suppose an original Theocratic purpose to have been\nentertained by Jesus, in which the moral and religious principle\npredominated, but which was not at first exclusive of the political\nelement. They suppose, however, a progress in his aim; that after his\nrejection by the people, \"which he regarded as God's rejection of any\nnational limitation of his work,\" he inferred that his mission was to\nfound a spiritual kingdom. Though the direct imputation of a political\naim has not been a favorite expedient with ultra-rationalist critics\nsince Reimarus was answered by Reinhard and others, it ought not to be\npassed without consideration. It is continually reappearing in modified\nforms. And this happens, because it is impossible to present the\nhypothesis that Jesus intended to be a Jewish Messiah without involving\nthe supposition of something political in his object, and in his means\nof accomplishing it. Accordingly a very recent critic[33] of\nChristianity, writing in the interest of \"Free Religion,\" and\nrepresenting Jesus as claiming to be a Jewish Messiah, after saying very\ntruly that \"the popular hope of a Priest-king transformed itself in the\nsoul of Jesus into the sublime idea of a spiritual Christ ruling by\nlove,\" is constrained to say, inconsistently, in another place, that, if\nJesus had assumed the office, he would not have hesitated to discharge\nits political duties, and to exercise political sway. Here, then, is a\nrevival of the imputation to Jesus of a political aim. But I am not\naware that it is anywhere in recent criticism enforced with any new\nstrength of argument. It is obviously contradicted by the general\nbearing of his actions, and by the whole tone of his teachings when\nrightly apprehended. It is contradicted by his utter neglect of\npolitical measures. He could not be induced or forced to take the\nposition of a political ruler. Admirers wished to proclaim him King: he\nsent them away, tore his disciples from them, and went himself into the\nmountain to commune with God. Asked to settle a dispute about property,\nhe says he has never been constituted an administrator of civil justice.\nWhen shown the tribute-money, and inquired of if it were lawful to pay\ntribute unto C\u00e6sar, he makes the memorable reply in which he at once\nacknowledges the rights of the government _de facto_; and the rights of\nconscience and religion, which to deny would be usurpation. He was the\nfirst to distinguish the spheres of the church and of the state so\nintimately related, but never to be blended. And this is just what the\npolitical Messiah, the Priest-king, could not have conceived. The\noutlines of his church may serve as the model of a free church to-day.\nThere was no political motive to enter it. It had no officer who could\nexercise political power. There was no authority but in the\ncongregation. It was amenable to no political head. Its fundamental\ntruths were the equal relation of all men with God as his children, and\nthe common relation of all men with one another as brethren. The only\nend of his church was the moral and spiritual development of its members\nand of all men; the only condition of membership, the recognition of\nthis end; and, with it, of the providential gift of truth and life given\nin Jesus Christ's consciousness of God, and an appropriating and\nco-operative sympathy with his character and purpose. Its method was\nfree conference and prayer in the spirit of unity, and in devotion to\nthe regeneration of the human family; a method, the results of which, he\nassured them, would be the reaching of decisions which would be in\nessential harmony with his own spirit, the Spirit of God. He drew more\nfrom the synagogue than from the temple. Worship might ascend anywhere\nfrom the heart. One need not go to Jerusalem. No political Messiah could\nhave thought of any centre of the restored Theocracy but the holy city,\nto which the tribes should repair with their sacrifices, and the\nconverted heathen bring their votive offerings to Jehovah, the God of\nJews; but the temple must be destroyed, and not one stone of it left\nupon another, according to Jesus, in order to prepare for that worship\nof the Father by men in spirit and in truth, which he, as the Christ,\nwould inaugurate.\n\n[Footnote 33: See \"The Index,\" Toledo, Jan. 1 and Jan. 8, 1870.]\n\nWe thus come naturally to another point in the discussion. The theories\nwhich recognize the political aim of Jesus commonly suppose that he\nregarded it as his personal mission to restore Mosaism to its primitive\npurity. And, if he shared in the hope of the restoration of the\nTheocracy, he would probably take the most conservative ground in regard\nto the Levitical institutions and the Mosaic precepts. He would believe\nthe Jewish people must be made independent, in order to give supremacy\nto those institutions. The Roman yoke must be broken, and the coming\nkingdom be inaugurated with war. Nothing of this, however, is found in\nthe ministry of Jesus Christ. When he preached \"the kingdom of heaven is\nat hand,\" it was no summons to war. The characteristic qualities of\nthose who belonged to this kingdom were opposed to the Theocratic\nspirit. And the Sermon on the Mount taught, as clearly as the formal\ndeclaration before Pilate, that it was not of this world. Why should his\nfollowers be ready to suffer social persecution, if his aim tended in\nthe direction regarded with social favor? What mean the non-resistant\nexhortations, instructing his followers to waive their rights for the\nsake of the higher interests they were living for, if he and his\nadherents are charged with the political duty of driving the invader\nfrom the sacred soil? The rise and progress of this kingdom, Jesus said,\non another occasion, could not be observed like those of an empire\nfounded by force: it would not \"come with observation.\" It had already\ncome unobserved. It began to come with John the Baptist, until whose\nwork the law was in the ascendant; but since whom men had been pressing\ninto the kingdom of heaven, which was tending to supplant the law. And,\non still another occasion, if he expected his movement to leave the\nJewish ritual intact, how could he say, with pregnant significance, that\nnew wine must not be put into old wineskins, lest they break, and the\nwine be lost. I know great stress is laid upon his saying, \"Think not\nthat I have come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I have not come to\ndestroy, but to fulfil. For truly do I say to you, Till heaven and earth\npass away, not one jot or one tittle shall pass from the law, till all\nbe fulfilled.\" But, if taken literally, they prove too much; for,\naccording to other passages, his teaching on some points--as, for\ninstance, divorce, and, as many think, the Sabbath--directly conflicted\nwith that of Moses. He threw doubt directly upon the tradition that God\nrested on the seventh day. God, he said, had been always working up to\nthat hour, and in his own acts of healing done on the Sabbath he had\nbeen co-operating with God. We must therefore interpret freely this\nlanguage, and understand by it the everlasting law. The smallest\nrequirement of the true law, however overlooked and despised it may have\nbeen in the popular exegesis, would have its emphasis in the new\nteachings; and whoever slighted it would be the least in the kingdom of\nheaven. There is not a word which can be fairly construed into\ncommendation of the Levitical priesthood. He gives to the Mosaic\nprecepts cited the most spiritual interpretation, or sets them aside\nwhen they cannot be wrought into a more profound system of natural\nmorality. He implies his superiority to all preceding teachers,\nincluding Moses. \"It was said to the ancients, but _I_ say unto you.\"\nIndeed, his tone in this discourse is any thing but that of a Jewish\nRabbi of his period. It is that of the most human and universal\nteaching. It asserts, when we penetrate beyond the immediate occasion of\nit to its principle, that which is true in all times and places. Those\naffirmations with which it opens, what are they but declarations, the\nsubstantial verity of which it is possible for every man, if he know not\nnow, yet sometime to know in himself. \"Blessed are the poor in spirit:\nfor theirs is the kingdom of heaven.\" The spirit of those who can set a\nlimit to their wants and curb ambition, who do not live blinded by\ninterests to the demands of a pure soul,--the spirit of such is always\nblessed. Happy he who imbibes it from the circumstances of his life; and\nhappy he who, amidst the blandishments of riches, is taught it by the\ndiscipline of Heaven. These are they to whom has come the kingdom of\nheaven from Jesus' day until now. Then, \"Blessed are the pure in heart:\nfor they shall see God.\" And is not a pure mind the very moral\natmosphere in which man sees God as he is, and rejoices in the sight? A\nman's moral sentiments are the medium through which comes to him the\nthought of God. Let those sentiments be perverted, and he imagines\neither that God is not or that he is different from what he is. His\nwrong mind either obstructs entirely the beam which darts from the\nDivine essence, or scatters the spotless white of that Sun, the pure\naggregate of Divine perfections, into the particolored tints of the\nearthly and sensual soul itself. Again, \"Blessed are the merciful: for\nthey shall obtain mercy.\" It is even so. Those who sympathize with\nhuman wants will feel the sympathy of God flowing into their souls, and\ncan never lack assurance of the Divine mercy so long as they keep in\nthemselves that pledge of it,--the merciful spirit. And so it is a grand\ncaution, which every one who has wantonly condemned others knows he\nought to keep in memory,--\"Condemn not, lest ye be condemned.\" For the\nundeserved, heavy sentence of condemnation which a man lifts high to\nhurl with malignant intent at his brother is arrested by an interposing\nlaw of Providence, and falls from his weak hand with its full weight\nupon his own head. And at length we come to what might be thought a\nstudied satire upon the boasted maxims of human wisdom: \"Blessed are ye\nwhen men shall speak evil of you falsely for my sake.\" Is this the sober\ntruth? Is not Christ, so true elsewhere, mistaken here? It is a verity\nas certain as the laws of God. Do not minds advance unequally in truth,\nin all the successive phases of a soul's spiritual growth? Whoever goes\nbefore others in thought and life will find men laying this to his\ncharge. But, if by following the command of Christian truth to his\nconscience he has opened upon himself the battery of human\ncensoriousness, he may exult; for every unjust word or groundless\nsuspicion will but remind him of his unbribed devotion, and be changed\nbefore it touches his deepest happiness into the benediction of God.\n\nWere we to go through what was spoken on the Mount, we might show its\ntruth commanding unquestionably the assent of our moral natures. It all\ntakes hold of our mind and life. It comes to us to throw light on what\nwe do and suffer, and to borrow confirmation from it in turn. Though we\nfall so far short of it, and could not have conceived it originally and\nfrom ourselves, as Jesus did, it so accords with the laws of our being\nas to seem to be the suggestion of our experience, some admonition\nfloating to us by intent of God on that ever-heaving sea of life, of\nambition, of passion, of mutual misunderstanding, of strong loves and\npiercing griefs, of various mingling sympathies, on whose shore we do\nnow stand, and whose tide, for our few seconds here in time, laves our\nfeet and dashes upon us its spray.\n\nWe might turn over other pages of Jesus' instruction beyond that\nintroductory statement of the principles of the kingdom of God, and\nevolve its sense in terms presenting an undeniable spiritual fact to all\nour race. For instance, \"To him who hath shall be given, and he shall\nhave abundance; but from him that hath not shall be taken away, even\nthat which he seemeth to have.\" How true! It is verified in the mental\ncondition of every man at this moment. We only seem to have the faculty\nwe do not use. There is no long, healthy sleep to the mind and the moral\nwill any more than to the body; but the alternative is, live or die. And\nthus Jesus was ever holding up the law of the spiritual life to the\nlight of that day which dawned with his advent. He dwelt on what is\ninward. Although you cannot find that once, in his popular teaching, he\nlaid stress upon observances, times without number he studiously\ndistinguished between every thing of the nature of ceremonial and those\neverlasting obligations of justice and humanity, of inward and outward\npurity, which ought to be recognized in the home and in the state, in\nall the intercourse of man with man, and in watching over the secret\nheart. We may not infer that he was hostile to religious forms. He\nobserved them. He knew that man needed them, and that souls instinct\nwith life would perpetuate them and adapt them to their own wants. But\nhe saw in the spirit of the Scribes the evil of teaching that any\narbitrarily imposed outward act can in itself please God; and, in regard\nto such, the whole emphasis of his teaching was, \"These ought ye to have\ndone, and not to have left the other undone.\" He quoted from the\nprophets habitually, \"I will have mercy and not sacrifice.\"\n\nSuch is the genius of Christianity,--of Christianity as it came from its\nFounder,--the religion which is said to have ripened into the medi\u00e6val\ntheology and the Roman hierarchy. Too little, indeed, has this genius of\nChristianity been regarded! The old Judaic spirit which brought Jesus to\nthe cross has, among Protestants as well as Catholics, too often\ncrucified the Christianity of Christ. Human metaphysics have been put\ninto creeds and catechisms. Sects have been founded and built up on the\nimportance attached to the form of a rite as a part of essential\nChristianity. Disputes have raged which the traditions of the Church and\nthe letter of Scripture have failed to settle, and about which Jesus, if\nteaching among us, would not waste a minute's breath.\n\nIf further proof were wanting of the breadth and spirituality of Jesus'\nview, it might be found in the fact that he was brought to the cross by\nthe pro-Judaism party. His friends would interpret him differently from\nhis enemies. The universality and spirituality of his aim were not at\nonce apprehended by his followers. Their very trust in him would make\nthem slow to perceive his radical meaning; for, to impute to him what\nwas in his mind, would seem to be distrust. They would put a limited\nconstruction upon what he said. It would be otherwise with his enemies,\nwho would be sharp and quick to see the full extent to which his words\nwould carry him.\n\nThe movement of Jesus, then, may be called revolutionary, not in the\nsense of aiming directly at political revolution, but in the sense of\nhis expecting to found a free, spiritual, and universal religion, which\nwould uproot and remove in time the partial religions, Judaism included.\nStill he designed to connect himself with the Old Dispensation. He\nrecognized the Divine mission of Moses and the Providential office of\nthe prophets in preparing for him. In the expectations which they\nfostered there was something true as well as something false. When they\ndepicted a glorious and happy political condition of the Jewish nation\nunder the Messiah as an earthly king, Jesus must have regarded them as\nbeing in error. We find him pronouncing John the Baptist the greatest of\nthe prophets of the old order, and declaring that the least in the\nkingdom of heaven was greater than he; and the reason is shown by the\ncontext of the words (Matt. xi.) to be that John as a Jewish prophet\nregarded the kingdom of God in part as a political kingdom. But the\nfundamental idea of the Theocracy, that other nations would be united\nwith Israel under the dominion of the One True God, was one in harmony\nwith Jesus' thought.[34] This expectation Jesus regarded it as his\nmission to realize and fulfil. He had only to separate from the\nTheocratic predictions of the prophets the partial political element, to\nbring them into unison with his universal aim. Whatever in the hitherto\nprevailing ideas and hopes was capable of expansion he absorbed into\nhimself, that it might be given out in a wider and higher form, and\nlive for ever. A case somewhat parallel might be found in the changes\nwrought by our late war. Those who took a radical view of the issue of\nthe contest were exposed to the charge of being revolutionary and\ndestroying the Constitution. They could reply, \"Yes: the issue will be\nrevolutionary. There will be a new state of law, and of the relations of\nthe people in important respects, effected by carrying out fundamental\nprinciples. But those principles were the essence of the Constitution;\nand to carry them out is only fully to accomplish its purpose, by\nannihilating transient provisions at war with liberty and social\njustice, and giving scope to the principles of the Declaration of\nIndependence. We hold to the Constitution. We have come not to destroy,\nbut to fulfil.\" So Jesus Christ came not to destroy all that had gone\nbefore, but to fulfil whatever in it was fundamental to the Divine\npurpose in relation to man. In this feeling of a real connection between\nhis movement and the Hebrew ideas and hopes is to be found the principal\nexplanation of his confining his labors, and those of the apostles when\nfirst sent forth, chiefly to Judea and Galilee. Not only must his own\nwork be limited in its local scope,--for he could not go\neverywhere,--but the historical basis of his movement lay in the Hebrew\nhistory. Among the Hebrew people only could he find suitably prepared\nimmediate disciples. Salvation was to be from the Jews. And, foreseeing\nthat the nation as such would reject him, he saw that it was essential\nto the extension among the Gentiles of the truths and hopes he inherited\nas a Jew, essential to the breaking down of the partition wall which now\nkept out the true doctrine of God from the heathen world, that he should\ncome to a distinct issue with the Jewish authorities, and make it clear\nand notorious that it was the narrow spirit of Pharisaism and legal\nformality which crucified him. (If he were lifted up, he would draw all\nmen to him.) And from the first the ruling sect, with the acute instinct\nof self-interest, discerned the revolutionary character of his\nmovement,--that it elevated man above the Jew, and struck at the root of\nthe idolized Hebrew pre-eminence.\n\n[Footnote 34: See Noyes's Introduction to his Translation of the\nProphets.]\n\nI pass now to a more subtle hypothesis, that Jesus expected to establish\nthe Theocratic empire by angelic assistance on occasion of his return to\nearth, which would occur at the same time with the great outward change\nof the world. It is founded on such passages as this: \"For the Son of\nMan is to come in the glory of his Father, with his angels; and then he\nwill render to every one according to his works.\" (Matt. xvi. 27. Comp.\nMatt. xiii. 41, and xxvi. 29-60.) It is thus stated by Strauss:[35] \"He\nwaited for a signal from his heavenly Father, who alone knew the time of\nthis catastrophe; and he was not disconcerted when his end approached\nwithout his having received the expected intimation.\" His Messianic hope\nwas not political or even earthly. He referred its fulfilment to a\nsupermundane theatre.\n\n[Footnote 35: Life of Jesus, Part II. \u00a7 66. The charge of enthusiasm is\nretained, but not discussed, in his Life of Christ for the German\npeople.]\n\nStrauss speaks of Jesus' hope as corresponding with the Messianic ideas\nof the Jews. It took its form from those ideas. Scherer also represents\nJesus' idea of the kingdom as wholly Apocalyptic. The _first_ criticism\nto be made upon this hypothesis is, that a Theocratic idea arising out\nof the Jewish expectations and conformed to them could not dispense with\nall thought of earthly conflict. The struggle could not have been\naltogether upon a supermundane theatre, nor the triumph of the Messiah\nachieved without common warlike agencies. The common Jewish idea was\nfounded on the language of some Hebrew prophets, and appears in the\nApocalyptic writings of Christ's age; and his own mind in cherishing the\nhope attributed to him must have quite surrendered itself to the popular\nexpectation. This expectation supposed some outward conflict as the\noccasion of supernatural interference. Nor do I know any ground for\nthinking that in Christ's time the Jews expected the Messiah to prevail\nwith angelic aid without a conflict of arms. Whoever will read Ezekiel\nand Daniel will see that those prophets expected a contest on earth with\nearthly weapons, as the occasion for the intervention of Jehovah. And\nwhoever will read the wars of the Maccabees will see how Jewish courage,\nfired with the expectation of celestial assistance, never stopped to\ncompare the apparent strength of the respective forces. Nor did the\nApocalyptic seers dismiss this thought of earthly battle. The book of\nEnoch speaks of the unconverted as delivered at the judgment into the\nhands of the righteous, whose horses shall wade in the blood of sinners,\nand whom the angels shall come to help.[36] The Apocalypse of the New\nTestament presents the picture of the Messiah as mounted on a white\nhorse, and riding forth to judge and make war; and the comment of Dr.\nNoyes on this and similar passages is that, in the mind of the writer,\nthere was to be war in heaven and upon earth, before Christ should reign\nin final triumph.[37] This theory has no distinctive character without\nsupposing the angels acting on the stage of sense and time, and giving\nthe Hebrews the victory. With this expectation is probably connected the\n\"sign from heaven\" demanded of Jesus by the Pharisees, a sign which\nshould stimulate Hebrew faith to irresistible warlike ardor. The\nunconverted were to be vanquished by some mysterious exercise of\nMessianic power. Hence many were not satisfied with Christ's miracles;\nnot that they disputed their reality, but as being not decisive of his\nMessianic character. Now, if this had been the thought of Jesus, he\nwould have been disposed to seek an occasion for such interference from\non high. It is true, in saying this, we say he must have given himself\nup to the enthusiasm which so often fanatically manifested itself in his\nage, and was always ready to break forth. But the idea supposed, when\none's whole being was yielded to it,--as Jesus did yield his whole being\nto the ideas which possessed him,--could not have stopped short of\npractical action. He must have been prepared in his thought to act with\nfanaticism. Strauss says, \"He did not try to bring about all this by his\nown will; but awaited a signal from his heavenly Father.\" The actual\nJesus did undoubtedly as Strauss says; but the supposed Jesus would have\nat some time believed the signal to be given. The idea, and the sort of\nfaith in supernatural aid which accompanied it, would lead him to think\nthe moment had come for this demonstration. \"If such were the ideal of\nJesus in fact, why did he not seek to realize it at once? Why did he\nprefer the way of renunciation and self-sacrifice to the possession of\nthe kingdoms of the world? Why, in the place of the Son of Man, have we\nnot a Mahomet six hundred years in advance.\" The logical and necessary\nresult of belief in his Messiahship, and of faith in this sort of\nsupernatural aid in realizing it, was that he should bring about an\noccasion for this demonstration. It was an encounter with the Romans, in\nthe hope that Jehovah and the angels would fight for God's people, and\nbe more than strong enough against all odds. \"The Messianic Theocracy\ncould not exist as a Roman province.\"[38] But Jesus studiously avoids\nconflict with Rome. Besides, the second part of the temptation of Christ\nsets aside at once this ideal. His early consciousness of wonderful\npower had not the effect of disposing his mind favorably toward such\nJewish Messianic ideas. That consciousness tended rather to spiritualize\nhis thought: we may say, it subdued him. It made his whole feeling\nmoderate, and his whole thought wise and temperate. This is a very\nremarkable part of the representation of him by the evangelists.\n\n[Footnote 36: Book of Enoch, Dillman, ch. 100.]\n\n[Footnote 37: Rev. xix. 11; comp. Christian Examiner, May, 1860, p.\n382.]\n\n[Footnote 38: Hase's Life of Jesus.]\n\nBut, secondly, I will now suppose the expectation of Jesus to have been\npurified from every notion of warlike action. The regeneration\n(palingenesia) was to be not a political revolution, but a renovation of\nthe earth and the heavens, attended by a resurrection of the dead, of\nwhom the accepted were to dwell with Christ in the renovated world,--not\nthe present earth, but the earth restored,--and that his presence and\nreturn were to be visible. This is his coming with the angels to set up\nhis kingdom and to reign.\n\nI. The very language which this hypothesis is adopted to explain, taken\nin its proper sense, proves too much. Jesus was to be a king on the\nrenewed earth, yet his kingdom was to be different from those of this\nworld. \"It is not,\" he says, \"of this world.\" It is a real kingdom as\nmuch as that of David; but it is not to be a worldly rule on the one\nhand, nor a purely spiritual rule on the other. It is political, and not\npolitical. According to the writer of the Apocalypse, whose views are\nsupposed to have been sanctioned by Jesus, this king must reign until he\nhas put all enemies under his feet. When the kingdom is consummated, he\nis to surrender it to his Father. The hypothesis under consideration\nrepresents the kingdom as to be consummated at the time of the\nworld-catastrophe which, with the second or real coming of Jesus as\nMessiah, will occur, according to the alleged words of Christ himself,\nimmediately after the destruction of the city. Why shall not the kingdom\nbe given up immediately to the Father? This king in \"the proper sense,\"\nand in no purely spiritual sense, who comes visibly, will have no\noccasion for a reign in the proper sense of the word. Strauss says,\n\"Jesus expected to restore the throne of David, and with his disciples\nto govern a liberated people. But in no degree did he rest his hopes on\nthe sword of his adherents, but on the legions of angels which the\nFather would send him. He was not disconcerted when his end approached\nwithout the kingdom having come. It would come with his return.\" But how\nwhen he returned was the throne of David to be restored, and a proper,\nliteral reign to exist, and not a mere spiritual reign? This king has no\nbusiness to perform: his work is all accomplished immediately by a\nstupendous miracle. And he and his apostles have nothing to do but to\nsit on idle thrones, or to feast at tables loaded with luxuries which\nare at the same time mundane and supermundane; to enjoy a sensual\nparadise, which differs from a Mohammedan paradise only in that it does\nnot consist of the coarsest forms of sensual life. They are to partake\nof an actual wine, a fruit of the vine,--a new kind of wine; to observe\nthe passover with supermundane food, but food pleasurable to the taste.\nThis Jesus is thought to have expected and promised.[39] I sometimes\nthink this attempt to find a half-way doctrine of Jesus' expectation\nconcerning the future ascribes to him an apocalypticism more inept and\nfatuous than that of the Jews themselves. It attempts to unite the\ncontradictory. It cannot be stated by Strauss in any thing like the\nliteral sense of the passages on which it is founded, without supposing\nsomething of that political element which it is designed to exclude; or\nelse entirely dropping that relation to Jewish hopes to which it is\nbelieved to owe its origin, and thus leaving it unexplained. For, if\nJesus gave up all expectation whatever of a kingdom of this world, we\nhave no occasion for a visible return.\n\n[Footnote 39: See Renan's Life of Jesus, first edition.]\n\nII. The second objection to this view is that it is incompatible with\nthe most important expressions and opinions of Jesus.\n\n1. The kingdom is to come with the world-catastrophe; and the King is\nthen to come in some mysterious manner on the clouds of heaven. How,\nthen, could Jesus say the kingdom of God cometh not with _observation_?\nCould any political kingdom arise in a more outwardly striking manner?\nHow does that saying of Christ comport with his promising a literal\nmiraculous light in the heaven (Matt. xxiv. 30) which shall betoken his\nown coming and the great world-change? That form of coming with a\nprecursive sign in the heaven is just what he contradicted. Such a\nkingdom would come with a sign which could be watched for,--a sign very\ndifferent from those signs of the time, the moral indications, which a\nspiritual insight might discern. How could he say the kingdom of God was\namong them _already_, if it were yet to come at the time of the great\nworld-change? How could he say to Caiaphas: \"Yes, I am the Messiah; and\nmoreover _from this moment_ you shall see the Son of Man sitting on the\nright hand of power and coming on the clouds of heaven\"? It was\nequivalent to saying, \"You have arrested me, you have already doomed me\nto death. But I am the Anointed of God to introduce the new spiritual\nkingdom of Humanity; and, from this moment in which you decree my death,\nmy cause takes a Divine impulse, and my purpose strides on to the\ntriumph God has destined for it.\"\n\n2. This expectation is incompatible with what he says on other topics\nrelated to the kingdom, the resurrection, and the future life. This\nexpectation implies the Apocalyptic view of the resurrection. The\nMessiah was to come to raise the dead. (The Christian world has\ngenerally entertained the same view.) The visible return and the\nresurrection coexisted, probably, in Jesus' mind. If he held the one, he\nheld the other. The two opinions were Siamese twins, connected by a\nvital bond; separate them and you would kill them both. But Jesus gave a\nview of the resurrection and the future life totally different from the\nApocalyptic one. He taught the _continuance_ of life. His argument with\nthe Sadducees proves that doctrine, or it amounts to nothing. God is the\nGod not of the dead, but of the living. The Rich Man and Lazarus, of the\nparable, are already in a future state of retribution. He who believes\non him has \"already passed from death unto life.\" Jesus could not\nsuppose that one who had received from him the quickening of spiritual\nlife could pass into the under-world, and grope as a shade in the\nintermediate state. \"Whosoever liveth and believeth in him shall never\ndie.\" Now, to one who is satisfied that Jesus was emancipated from the\ndoctrine of an intermediate state, it must be evident that he could not\nhave held the Apocalyptic notion resting on it of a raising of the dead\nat the coming of the Messiah, and could not have held to the visible\ncoming of the Messiah who was to come to do that very thing.\n\nThe same observation is to be made of the judgment. Jesus shows himself\nemancipated from the common notion of the judgment, and of a future\nsimultaneous judgment-day. He that believeth on him is not judged. He\nthat believeth not is judged already, in that he has not believed in the\nonly-begotten Son of God. God sent him not to judge or to punish the\nworld, but to save it. The judgment of the world is not to be\nexclusively at a remote day. It has begun. It is _now_. Christ says, Now\nis the judgment of this world; now is the Prince of this world to be\ncast out; now, when Jesus is about to consummate by dying the moral\nmeans of that result. Jesus is not to be a personal Judge of men at a\nremote time. His principles are for ever to judge men, to judge them\nfinally. Not himself as the personal Logos, or as the reappearing\nMessiah, is to judge men, but \"the word he has spoken.\" These thoughts\nin the fourth Gospel must have come from Jesus, not from the writer, who\nshows himself in places not emancipated from the view of his time.\n\n3. The doctrine of Christ's expectation which I am considering is not\ncongruous with the means which he contemplates for accomplishing his\nwork, and with the view he took of the progress of his kingdom, and of\nthe moral duties and retributions of Humanity. Nothing is clearer than\nthat his kingdom of God was to be a communion of men on earth bound\ntogether by the same consciousness of the heavenly Father. It was to\nextend into another life. But it was to spread more and more widely, and\nsubdue the world to his spiritual dominion. By moral influence he is to\nbe King. This communion is to be the salt of the earth, the light of the\nworld. It is to extend its influence by holy example, by good works. He\nwill be in spirit with the apostles and with his church. He trains them\nto carry on his work, and tells them to preach the good news to all\nnations. He does this as if founding a work which shall go on\nindefinitely. He declares early, in a discourse designed to explain his\nkingdom, that the law shall not pass away; that it shall in its moral\nrequirements be all realized. Heaven and earth shall not pass away until\nall shall _be_. And he directs his disciples to pray as much as for\ndaily bread that God's kingdom may come, and that God's will may be done\n_on earth_ as it is done in heaven. Is it possible that this teacher\nexpects all this to be closed in thirty or forty years, by a violent\ncatastrophe, and by the substituting of a universal miracle for this\nmoral instrumentality? He says it is not the Father's will that one of\nthe lowliest shall perish. Did he mean to limit the opportunity of\nsalvation for the race to forty years, and to consign to the torment of\nGehenna all who did not accept the new truth in that time? And all this\nimpossibility is heightened by the nature of some of those parables in\nwhich he treated of his kingdom. \"If the kingdom of God were to be\nestablished by an irresistible miracle, on a fixed day, in a manner so\nsplendid, what signify those admirable parables of the mustard-seed, of\nthe leaven, of the net, of the grain growing from itself, which suppose\na development, slow, regular, organic, proceeding from an imperceptible\npoint, but endowed with a Divine vitality, and displaying successively\nits latent energies?\"[40] Besides, no one ever more strictly enjoined\nthe duties of life, the everlasting obligations. He contemplates such\nduties as are to be done in such a world as ours was then and is now, as\nthe essential sphere in which the heavenly spirit must be formed in man.\nHis principle of final judgment is, \"Inasmuch as ye have done the duties\nof Humanity unto your fellow-men, ye have done them unto me. Come, ye\nblessed of my Father.\" Could that teacher suppose that the opportunity\nfor performing such duties would cease for ever before the last of his\napostles should have died? Could he think that within that time the\ndestinies of Humanity as he knew it would be closed?\n\n[Footnote 40: R\u00e9ville, Review of Renan's Life of Jesus.]\n\nThese are the principal reasons which determine me to believe that Jesus\ndid not expect to return visibly to raise the dead, judge the world, and\nbe the head of an external Theocratic kingdom on the renewed earth.\nWhat, then, shall be said of the language which appears to express that\nopinion? \"Ye shall drink the wine new with me in my Father's kingdom.\"\n\"Ye shall sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel,\" &c. Two\nconsiderations are to be kept in sight in establishing the views and\nexpectations of Jesus: first, that he used this language--so far as he\nused it--in a figurative sense, to represent spiritual and providential\nfacts as he conceived them; second, that the evangelists may have\nsometimes given to his language a precision and a connection which did\nnot belong to it, as delivered. That he could not have employed this\nlanguage as it is reported to us, in its literal and proper sense, is to\nmy mind a necessary conviction in the premises. This would suppose that\nhe entertained two orders of conceptions, which were opposed to one\nanother, with a clear profound conviction, and gave them as revelations\nof God: one his spiritual and rational beliefs; the other his\nApocalyptic beliefs. This supposition is the vice of Renan's seventeenth\nchapter. The language of the Apocalyptic beliefs Jesus might use to some\nextent as a vehicle for conveying the spiritual and rational to others;\nand the most explicit language in which he conveyed his spiritual\nbeliefs, so far as it was retained in their feebler minds, might be\nforced into harmony with their traditional opinions. But that in Jesus'\nmind, so original, so manifestly filled with fresh thought on every\ntheme of Providence and man, these spiritual apprehensions of a kingdom\nor communion of God which should act under and within the state,\nrenovating human life and society; of a Messiah who by such a kingdom\nshould fulfil the missionary function of Israel to the race of man; of a\nresurrection which should be the uninterrupted continuance of the\nblessed life, or an immediate renewal of the sense of wasted opportunity\nand law violated on earth; of a judgment both immediate and continual of\nevery soul despising the truth revealed to it; of a retribution to civil\nsocieties according to Divine law,--should arise as original\nconceptions, be held with firm decisive grasp, be of the essence of his\ninstruction, and so pronounced in him that our most advanced modern\nthought is but the distant echo of his profound and distinct\nenunciations; and that at the same time he should hold those Apocalyptic\ntraditions, of a visible coming, of a Theocratic throne before whose\nsplendor that of C\u00e6sar would fade away, of a simultaneous resurrection\nand judgment,--hold them in unimpaired conviction, as truths to be\nsolemnly insisted upon as a part of his revelation,--this, it seems to\nme, comes as near a psychological contradiction as we can well conceive.\nAnd besides, if Jesus had clung to those beliefs as Divine convictions,\nthe language ascribed to him would have had the unity of that of the\nEpistles and the Apocalypse on this subject. We should not be perplexed\nwith apparent contradictions. As it is, we are obliged to use those\nwords which inculcate his spiritual thought for explaining that part of\nhis language which is conformed to Jewish conceptions.\n\nBut, it is said, this language would naturally create misunderstanding,\nand that it is too bold to be taken in a figurative sense. In regard to\nthe misunderstanding of it, let it be said, if we suppose a mind\ninspired by God to see far deeper and further than its contemporaries,\nit must be liable to be misunderstood in proportion to the poverty of\nthe vernacular language. Jesus' inspiration and insight gave his speech\na character such as the highest poetic endowment always gives, and made\nit bold. It is not to be forgotten that he belonged to the east and to\nthe people who have given us the Old Testament prophecies. The boldest\ntropes were natural to him. In moments of strong moral excitement, they\nfly from him as sparks from the flint or lightning from the charged\ncloud. It exposes him to the charge of mysticism. We forget that he was\nnot a lecturer, a systematic teacher; but a prophet, a converser in the\nstreets, a popular teacher, a poet sent from God to re-create humanity.\nNecessity concurred with inspiration to make his speech tropical and\noften liable to be misapprehended. He was obliged to use images and\nterms which the people and the schools applied to the Messiah in order\nto claim, as he meant to claim, a predetermined, providential connection\nwith Hebrew history and hope. When he said to Pilate, \"I am a king,\" it\nwas a truth; but it was a trope. \"I am the bread of life,\"--a truth, but\na trope. \"I am come to send a sword on the earth, not peace;\" \"This cup\nof wine is my blood sealing the new covenant,\"--truths, but compact with\nthe boldest tropes. When he said, \"I am the Messiah,\" it was a truth,\nbut a trope. It was liable to be misunderstood; but, without it, it was\nimpossible that he should be understood. He saw Satan, after the seventy\nreturned from their mission and related their success, \"falling like\nlightning from heaven.\" If he foresaw political revolutions which would\noccur within a generation, and believed they would be employed by\nProvidence to further the establishment of his principles or kingdom,\nwhich would then reach a point from which it would be evident, to a\nsympathizing mind quick to catch the glimpses of a new day, that they\nwould become dominant in humanity, would it be too bold a figure for him\nto say, \"The coming of the Son of Man will be as the lightning which\nshoots from horizon to horizon,\" or too bold a figure to describe those\nprecursive overturns and downfalls of the old in language borrowed from\nIsaiah and Joel, the prophets whom he loved and knew by heart? Might he\nnot believe, identifying his religion and the Divine spirit which would\nspread it, that at the time of these changes, conspiring providentially\nwith the labors of apostles and evangelists, his voice would call the\nchosen, those prepared by mental and moral affinity, to the new\nlife-work, to the new order of things; that his call to his own would be\nlike the supposed call of the last trumpet summoning them to come into a\nspiritual communion of blessed work, and blessed hope? These figures\nwere naturally, almost inevitably, formed in these circumstances.\n\nHe used the language given him in the speech of his time in a figurative\nsense, partly because of the want of proper terms suited to his purpose,\nand partly because as a popular teacher, desirous to impress the common\nmind, he could not sacrifice all the associations connected with that.\nBut we often find in proximity with it words of his own, or something in\nthe occasion, which he might expect to constrain the listeners to\nreflect that he was speaking figuratively; as John vi., \"My words, they\nare spirit and they are life,\" and the reply Luke xxii. 38, to the\ninformation, here are two swords, \"It is enough.\" Were the accounts more\nfull, it is fair to suppose we might have more such expressions. They\nwould not be so likely to be remembered as the striking, figurative\nwords.\n\nThere are words of Christ at the Last Supper which seem to me to have\noccasioned quite unnecessary perplexity. \"I say unto you I will not\nhenceforth drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it\nnew with you in my Father's kingdom.\" They were the spontaneous outflow\nof mingled sadness, affection, and hope. He might expect them to be\ninterpreted to his disciples by his situation, by all he had said of\nleaving them, and by his habit of conveying spiritual thought under the\nsensuous images suggested by the moment. They referred to the kingdom he\ndied to establish. They were as natural as to say, \"Where two or three\nare gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.\" But\nthey have been a stumbling-block to students whom we should have\nexpected to be able better to _orient_ themselves in the Master's genius\nand style.\n\nColani has spent a page to ridicule it, and show that it is not fit for\nits place.[41] Yet a similar figure is used by occidental preachers, who\nwould not expect to be reproached for coarseness. A young minister\non an occasion not unlike that on which Jesus sat with his\ndisciples--occurring as did that passover in the midst of sacrifice and\nrevolution, the Thanksgiving day celebrated after the close of our great\nwar, in our land at once so afflicted and so blessed--addressed his\nhearers, some of whom had lost sons or brothers in camp or field, in\nfigurative but very appropriate and touching language, in which we may\nsuppose he felt the inspiration of his Master's words at the last meal.\nIt was to the effect that, although those who had fallen in the strife\ncould no more partake with us in the bounty with which the Thanksgiving\ntable would be spread, they would in all future festivals be with us in\nspirit, and rejoice in the blessings ever more and more to be realized\nwhich had been purchased by their sacrifices for our disinthralled\ncountry.\n\n[Footnote 41: Jesus Christ and the Messianic Beliefs of his Time.]\n\nNor do I see any better cause of the offence which is taken at the\nlanguage ascribed to Jesus in Matt. xix. 28, in the offer of thrones:\n\"In the regeneration, when the Son of Man shall sit on the throne of his\nglory, ye also shall sit on twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of\nIsrael.\" Let us think how Jesus must have longed to communicate his\nthought and his hope to those chosen ones; how he would not be willing\nto drive them away by his very greatness as he sometimes drove away the\ncareless and cavilling; how his mind, if he were a human being and not\nan automaton, would alternate between the sternest truth-speaking and\nthe necessity of coming closer to them, and giving them hope, and\nlifting them a little nearer to himself; how like the mother bird,\nenticing her brood to their first flight, and finding he had at one\nmoment gone beyond them, he would come back, and alight on a point\nnearer to their apprehension, that he might tempt them to use the\nuntried pinions of their thought,--and we need have no difficulty in\nseeing that he meant thrones of moral power. I do not know how those men\nreceived it; but I do not believe they thought then of political power.\nIf, after Jesus left them, they recalled this and every other such\nexpression as a means of nourishing the hope of an Apocalyptic return\nand kingdom, the great Teacher and Comforter was not accountable for\nthat perversion.\n\nJesus' language, then, can be explained without supposing him to have\nexpected visibly to return after death to erect a kingdom of God of\nwhich he should be the visible head.\n\nThe result of our inquiries is, that Jesus did not aim at any political\nsovereignty, that he rose by the force of the special endowment of his\nnature above the Apocalyptic superstition of his age, and that he looked\nand labored immediately for the moral and spiritual renovation of\nhumanity on this earth. He claimed to be a Messiah; not a Messiah after\nthe Jewish conceptions, but a man anointed and endowed of God, to\nperfect by the manifestation of the Divine in the human, the means of\nthis moral renovation of humanity. He regarded the spiritual Messiahship\nas a divinely appointed means to this end. He aspired to spiritual rule\nfor no end but this, and his aspiration was disinterested, godlike. It\nhas been said that he was ambitious, though it is allowed that his\nambition was the most elevated. And he has been compared with\ndisadvantage to Socrates, whose ambition, it is said, was \"_to serve\nwithout reigning_,\" while that of Jesus was \"_to reign by serving_,\" and\nthe former is justly thought to be the nobler purpose. It is no time to\ninstitute a comparison between Jesus and Socrates. I have no wish to\ndisparage the great Pagan. I will allow Grote's estimate, that the\nApology as given by Plato is the speech of one who deliberately foregoes\nthe immediate purpose of a defence, the persuasion of his judges; who\nspeaks for posterity without regard to his own life. The aim of Socrates\nwas disinterested, but not so elevated as that of Jesus. The aim of\nSocrates belonged to the realm of the understanding; the aim of Jesus,\nto the realm of the Spirit. They both took delight in the exercise of\ntheir gift: this is innocent, when not an exclusive motive; but Socrates\nmore consciously sought this delight than Jesus. No self-abnegation can\nbe conceived more entire than that of the Christ as represented by the\nevangelists with every mark of truth. He sought to reign only as all\nseek to reign who put forth their powers to assist the development of\nother minds. He would reign only so, and so far, as this might be to\nserve his race. He had no ambition. His purpose was not _to reign by\nserving_, but _to reign that he might serve_. He respected the freedom\nof the mind. He appealed to reason and conscience. He claimed authority\nin the name of reason and conscience, and believed that he thus claimed\nit in the name of God. And if his reign has been more extensive, more\ndurable, and more beneficent than that of others, it is because he has\nacted by the highest kind and with the largest measure of truth and\nlife, on the highest powers and tendencies of man.\n\n\nCambridge: Press of John Wilson and Son.\n\n\n  Transcriber's Notes:\n\n  Obvious punctuation errors were repaired.\n\n  Phrases in italics are indicated by _italics_.\n\n  Words in the text which were in small-caps were\n    converted to ALL-CAPS.\n\n  Greek text is transliterated and surrounded by [Greek: ].\n\n  The \"oe\" ligature is indicated by \"[oe]\" (e.g. [oe]cumenical).\n\n  On pg. 77, the Latin phrase for \"altar of Heaven\"\n    is transcribed as \"Ara C[oe]li\" (it might be \"Ara C\u00e6li\").\n\n  Typo corrected:\n    \"phenonema\" changed to \"phenomena\"\n    (pg. 206, \"classes of perceived phenomena\")","title":"Christianity and Modern Thought","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":84714}